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Hagar the Horrible, 1/3/06

Cathy, 1/3/06

So, I’ve been doing the married thing for about four months now, and I have to say that it’s been pretty awesome so far. Still, if the comics are to be believed, all I have to look forward to is my soul dying in tiny increments. Today’s glimpse into the essential deadness of the The Horribles’ marriage is nothing new — we’ve already seen Hagar so desperate for affection that he’s trying to pick up zombie chicks — but there’s something poignant in the second panel here: the look of desperation in Helga’s eyes as she realizes that she’s wasted her life on a slob, Honi’s stunned expression as the epiphany that her parents’ marriage is a sham (how could I not have known? she must think) hits her full-force, and the fortune teller’s total panic as she realizes that her charlatan’s platitudes have hit far deeper than she ever intended.

Cathy, meanwhile, seems to have gone even further off the reservation, as Irving progresses from wide-eyed shock to full-on horror that the woman he married (after what you may recall was a wholly spite-motivated proposal) has turned out to be totally insane. If Cathy takes an abrupt, all-out turn for the emotionally devastating, with Irving’s attempts at procuring a quick annulment leading to recriminations, legal suits and countersuits, and the eventual total public emotional meltdown on the part of both spouses’ mothers, then I for one will be happy guy. Still and all, Irving, Cathy may be an obsessive-compulsive overspender, but she’s managing to sleep happily despite the fact that she’s married a guy who’s such a tool that he wears his damn polo shirts to bed.

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Hagar the Horrible, 12/19/05

OK, let’s leave aside the fact that Hagar and Lucky Eddie are Odin-revering pagans and wouldn’t care about this so-called “Christmas” anyway. They could still have themselves a rockin’ solstice party on their boat. A little yule-log worship, a lot of mead, and then some savage pillaging of northern France, burning scores of villages to the ground, killing the men and enslaving the women and children. Should be a hoot!

Mainly, this comic struck me because it’s further proof that major comics artists are stealing my thoughts. Think I’m a paranoid loon? Well, read this article in today’s Baltimore Sun and then decide for yourself. But if you want to see a picture of me in my robe, or of a faithful reader of this blog wearing a lampshade for a hat, you’ll have to go out and lay your hands on a physical copy of the paper. (It’s not too late, Baltimore-area folks!)

Update: Hmm, since last I looked, they’ve added pictures to the online story, so save your 50 cents. (You’re really not going to understand what I’m talking about without looking at it now, so click the link, I beg of you.)

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/19/05

Rex looks puzzled and anxious in panel three. Missing thought balloon: “Soccer ball? Does he think I went to some kind of European medical school! Damn it man, try to hold it together!”

Apartment 3-G, 10/20/05

Lu Ann, your engagement is falling apart! Your love life is crisis! This is no time for hand-jiving!

Hagar the Horrible, 10/21/05

Yeah, it’s just as ridiculous as saying that people will play a game that involves knocking a tiny ball into a hole with little sticks! Or that there will be an organized medical profession! Or institutionalized and regular taxation! Or … oh, why do I bother?