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Mark Trail, 9/5/11

It’s always worthwhile every once in a while to check in and note how thoroughly removed from reality the motivations and behavior of every single human being in Mark Trail are. First off, our Mountie is worried about an influx of tourism into this remote valley. Now, it’s true that such concerns are legitimate, but it’s also true that isolated communities are falling behind economically, and generally officials of the national government — such as members of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police — are always looking for ways to bring tourism dollars in from the outside.

So, that’s neither here nor there. But a million bazillion times more insane is the idea that this flood of flashy big-city tourists will be drawn by … news that one or two geese were found with biblical verses printed on bands around their legs? This concept doesn’t exactly have the same drawing power as, say, a water park, or a casino/concert venue. And even if you take the entire set of people who might be intrigued by the idea of an aggressive, honking bird bearing a tiny gold band engraved with a Bible verse, you have to question how many of them are going to fly out to the middle of nowhere so that they have the chance to tramp around the woods looking for said geese. Now, if you had a water park, or a casino/concert venue, where the geese with Bible verses on their legs were collected in a nice habitat where you could go look at them in comfort, that might bring in some tourist dollars.

Or, hell, what do I know? Bible geese hold no interest for me, so how can I try to predict the motivations of the target audience here? Maybe for your average Bible-goose nut, wandering around the forest with a pair of binoculars, hoping to catch that golden glint that you just know has a citation from Genesis on it somewhere, maybe that’s the whole point of making the trip in the first place. Maybe the idea of a cage full of sad geese with grubby little Bible bands on their legs, which you’d stop to gawk at for a few minutes while walking from the casino floor to the amphitheater on your way to catch Tony Danza’s fantastic one-man show Extravadanza, would just fill you with contempt for the way that the proud tradition of Bible-banding geese has been commercialized.

Anyway, long story short, the fact that Officer McQueen is very seriously discussing all this with his dog Princess is really the least of the problems with this strip.

Herb and Jamaal, 9/5/11

Ha ha, joke’s on you, Herb! Your children have never seen one of your old-fogey “CDs” in their lives.

Apartment 3-G, 9/5/11

I feel compelled to point out that Paul and Lu Ann are nowhere near anything resembling a porch swing in today’s Apartment 3-G strip.

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Six Chix, 7/29/11

I used to think that the life of a retired male thoroughbred horse — left to spend your time at leisure on a nice farm, with occasional sexy times with lady horses — seemed pretty sweet. Then I found out that thoroughbred horse semen is far too valuable to waste on a single lady horse per ejaculation, and so the studs have to get it on with a fake horse that encloses an elaborate semen-harvesting apparatus, with said semen shipped across the country to dozens of lady horses whom the male horses never get to meet. What I’m trying to say is that these two horses should probably count their blessings, unless the brown horse is in fact a particularly well designed piece of semen-harvesting apparatus.

Mark Trail, 7/29/11

Oh man, oh man. Is Mark going to punch a swan, more in sorrow than in anger? Is he going to get his pretty face all pecked? We’re only like two days into this plot and it’s already 20 times funnier than anything that’s happened in the last five years that didn’t involve Rusty getting trapped under a car.

Herb and Jamaal, 7/29/11

Your hilarious, whimsical comic of the day, everybody! I will cheerfully cop to being afraid of death, for whatever that’s worth.

Pluggers, 7/29/11

“Plugger Yelp” is when one plugger addresses another with awkward slang terms that nobody ever uses, and receives a reply that consists of unintelligible animal noises.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/20/11

Philosophical question: Is it insulting to call someone a “punk,” when they’re totally decked out in all the accoutrements of a punk rocker, circa 1978? Does the intention of the speaker count more than one’s own embrace of a retro-punk image? I have to admit that, with all his whining about verbal assault, I’m not thinking very highly of Spider the Punk (also, FYI, punk names that are not badass: “Spider”) at the moment, and on the other hand am admiring the steely gaze that Mr. Geezer is leveling at him in the final panel. “Spider, would you like me to graphically demonstrate some of the techniques I learned with my commando unit behind Japanese lines in Burma during World War II? Or would you like to go to class? Your choice.”

Herb and Jamaal, 7/20/11

Why … why wouldn’t Herb’s mother in law just removed the “mortuary” signs from her car? I’m guessing that the artist came up with a joke involving her trying to loan Ernie a hearse, then realized, “Oh, ho ho, there’s no way I can draw a recognizable hearse,” then just slapped a sign on a generic drawing of a black car and called it a day.

Pluggers, 7/20/11

Oh, come now, pluggers don’t know big words like “diuretic.” They’ll totally pee all over themselves though! That I believe.