Archive: Mark Trail

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Crock, 6/16/14

Somehow, it ain’t like the old days, right everybody? It used to be that when someone said “boombox,” you had a pretty good idea what they meant: a luggable radio with a built-in tape deck, built as large as it could get while still being portable, so the huge speakers could put out really loud bass. But boomboxes have been out of favor for 20 years, so who even knows what that word means anymore, or what any word means, for that matter. Kids today and their slang and their polysemy make language a baffling morass. Is a boombox a metallic glove now? Sure, why not!

Lockhorns, 6/16/14

This joke, obviously, is some kind or riff on Loretta’s eggs (or maybe biscuits? what pairs with brownish goo that you need to eat with a knife and fork?) being so poorly prepared that they have the consistency of vulcanized rubber; nevertheless, my immediate assumption was that Leroy was referring to Vulcans from Star Trek, which makes sense because obviously the emotional hellscape of his failed marriage is something he desperately wants to escape by whatever means necessary. Perhaps he’s trying to put himself through the Kolinahr, the Vulcan monastic discipline under which the last vestiges of emotion are purged away. “How long does it take to complete the Vulcanization process?” he wonders aloud. “When will I become a creature of pure logic? When will these awful, awful feelings stop?”

Mark Trail, 6/16/14

MARK IS IN AFRICA, everybody, and by “Africa” we mean some nonspecific country in Africa where there is fine dining but also ladies who carry things on their heads. Mark is supposed to be meeting Jacob Hickman to save the rhinos, but Jacob Hickman has been kidnapped so Mark is just going to sulk at his hotel restaurant instead. “Now I’m stuck here! I’m bored! There’s nobody to punch!”

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Mark Trail, 6/6/14

Africa!? But … I’ve finally learned how to endure time spent with my wife! Curse you, Woods and Wildlife Magazine, for somehow still having a cushy travel budget, despite the implosion of print journalism revenues!”

Blondie, 6/6/14

“We also have a terrible, persistent rodent infestation in the kitchen, which dovetails nicely with your metaphor as well!”

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 6/6/14

Silas’s face crumpled as he realized his plan to turn his store into a local literary salon would run up against an insurmountable obstacle: the near-universal illiteracy of his customer base.

Marvin, 6/6/14

Hey, remember how Marvin hates his parents? Well, they don’t really care much for each other, either.

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Mark Trail, 5/31/14

I don’t want to alarm you, but Mark Trail has spent almost as much time expressing affection for his wife (a human female) as he did gaping in wonder at the majesty of animal-on-animal combat. Will new-model Mark Trail now consist of episodes of Mark feeling emotions like a real person interspersed with violence dished out by the natural world? If so, my pick for the next animal attacker is the hawk in panel three, which has had enough of all this making out in its forest home and is swooping down to dish out harsh justice with its razor-sharp talons.

Beetle Bailey, 5/31/14

If it’s Saturday in Beetle Bailey, it must be General And Mrs. Halftrack Loathe Each Other With A Terrifying Passion Day! Here they are reading the paper in the morning, glowering at each other through sad, drooping eyelids and carping about the General’s ignorance about everything, including the institution to which he’s dedicated his life. Why should she ask him about the army? Why ask him about anything at all? Why talk? Why go on living?