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Hagar the Horrible, 5/14/05

I’m not even going to dwell on the ostensible humor content of this strip. I mean, I really think a pair of bloodthirsty Viking warriors and one of their Valkyrie-like mates could think of “something” to get the attention of the waiter that’s a little more forceful than standing on the furniture. That “something” should at a bare minimum involve the severed head of the maître d’ and a rusty pike if any of our diners want to have a hope of entering Valhalla in gore-soaked triumph.

But what I’m really worried about his the The Horribles’ domestic situation. Specifically, what kind of married couple goes out on a date to a fancy romantic restaurant and brings the husband’s dorky sidekick along? Couples in trouble, that’s what kind! Are Hagar and Helga so terrified by the prospect of staring across the table at one another with nothing to say that they’ve dragged Lucky “Third Wheel” Eddie (or maybe that should be “Lucky” “Third Wheel” Eddie) along to break up the long, painful silences with his patented brand of deliberately-missing-the-point comedy? Or maybe I’m coming at things from the wrong angle: maybe Lucky Eddie has become so well-beloved by the hardcore Hagar the Horrible audience (which, against all logic, I feel must exist somewhere, or else why does the strip persist in existing?) that every time he fails to make an appearance in the strip, angry letters pour in to King Features Syndicate. Perhaps some day, after Hagar and Helga have converted to Christianity and gone off to raise sheep in Iceland, the strip will follow the lead of Barney Google and Snuffy Smith and be called Hagar the Horrible and Lucky Eddie, with decades passing between appearances of the former. It’ll be just like Joey, but (and I can’t believe I’m typing this) not as funny.

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Hagar the Horrible, 2/28/05

Okay, so I don’t claim to have any special insight into the creative process over at Hagar the Horrible Central, but I think the line of thought that led to today’s comic went something like this:

1. Come up with uproarious joke involving cannibal natives and Hagar and Lucky Eddie in a big cast-iron pot.
2. Realize that cannibal natives don’t fit into the carefully constructed and meticulously researched ninth-century AD European milieu of the strip.^*
3. Refuse to give up on joke because, I mean, you’ve already thought of it, and golf doesn’t just play itself.
4. Replace cannibal natives with random medieval-looking knights/villagers; replace pot with stakes.
5. Taste the hilarity!

*Yes, sometimes Hagar and Lucky Eddie are stranded on what appear to be tropical islands. I say they’re in the Mediterranean, off the coast of North Africa. The historical accuracy of Hagar the Horrible is not to be impugned! Feel free to impugn its humor level, though, because that’s generally very, very low.

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Here’s the sort of hard-hitting commentary you come here for: What’s the deal with men in the comics and golf? Every male in the funnies, from modern-day types like Dagwood and General Halftrack to anachronistic duffers like Hagar the Horrible and B.C., pines to get back to the links the way Proust wants a madeleine. Is golf equipment intrinsically fun to draw? Does the comics community view it as a metaphor for so many of the important things in life, like walking, carrying heavy objects, and hitting things? Or do comics artists themselves hanker to be on the course so badly that they can’t get the thought out of their heads and end up drawing golf-themed strips out of desperate longing? If the latter is true, it would explain a few other things as well.

Speaking of Hagar the Horrible, some poor soul recently posed the following profound question to Ask Jeeves: “Does Hagar the Horrible have a last name?” Sadly, their resulting trip to this site didn’t answer the query. However, nameless seeker, I’ll tell you this: If Hagar were a real Viking, he wouldn’t have a last name in the modern sense, but would have a patronymic — that is, a name based on his father’s name. Leif Ericson, for instance, just means “Lief, son of Eric.” So If Hagar’s father was, say, Thor, his name would be Hagar Thorson. However, if Hagar were a real Viking, he wouldn’t play golf, either, so take all this with a grain of salt.

A linkback goes to Mike Donovan, who has his own comic. And, one final metanote: my previous post was the 100th since I began this blog! I’m very happy that it was about meth addicts in Mary Worth.