Archive: Mark Trail

Post Content

Mark Trail, 8/16/09

Ah, there’s nothing more relaxing in your Sunday Mark Trail than seeing terrified horses running from an all-consuming inferno! This week’s edutaining Sunday strip reminds me of why I find Smokey the Bear so unsettling, which is because he’s wearing pants and no shirt. I can sort of see the chain of logic that got clothes on him in the first place — they had to put the hat on him to show that he was a forest ranger, and then once that happened he was a little too anthropomorphized to get away with no pants; I just don’t understand why the thought process stopped there. Surely there’s some sort of snappy uniform shirt they could have put on him? Because as it is he sort makes me think that forest rangers used to lounge around their fire towers shirtless, like slobs, which makes me glad that they all got fired due to budget cuts and replaced by people calling on their cell phones and saying “Hey, is this the government? I, uh, I think your forest is on fire.”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/17/09

I’ve been avoiding talking about Rex Morgan because I or someone I love losing their memory and forgetting who all their loved ones are is one of my very worst nightmares; and so, grasping at straws, I’m willing to accept this half-hearted conversation as a sign that we’re getting back to what I thought this storyline was all about, which is to say adultery, and suspicions of adultery. Normally I don’t root for uninteresting, semi-attractive people to flirt in the comics, but if it takes panel time away from “I don’t know who I am or where I am and I think I’m married to this person who isn’t my husband, ha ha,” then I’m all for it.

Post Content

Dick Tracy, 8/13/09

OK, when I see “cutting” bandied about as a noun like this, I think immediately about people who self-harm. However, it’s obvious that Dick Tracy lacks the depression, self-doubt, vulnerability, and ability to feel emotional pain of any sort for that to be what he’s proposing; plus, he’s offering the suggestion with an unseemly amount of enthusiasm. Therefore, I can only assume that he’s actually planning to perform an impromptu autopsy on our poor dead trapeze artist, right there on the floor of the Big Top. “The sawdust will easily absorb the blood!”

Oh by the way, Dick, IT WAS THE CLOWN THAT DID IT. THE CLOWN WITH THE SOULFUL, SHIFTY EYES. HE KILLED HER. AND SENT THE NOTE. JUST FYI.

Mark Trail, 8/13/09

It’s now clear that we can’t refer to this gun-toting, orange-clad individual as an assassin, or even as a hit man, but nevertheless I’m beginning to really sort of be in awe of him. You have to respect the years of weapons training it must have taken for him to master the craft of not quite killing people. I wonder if every day he picks up his gun and shakes his head and thinks, “Thank goodness this rifle is in my capable hands. If you didn’t know what you were doing, you could really hurt someone with this!”

Crankshaft, 8/13/09

Since Cranksaft is, as near as I can tell, standing at floor level, I’m not sure whose perspective the first panel is supposed to be drawn from. One of the garden club ladies who drank too much gin and quietly slumped out of her front row seat onto the floor? The cheering throngs gathered in the public square to look up in adulation at their gardener-dictator giving a speech from a balcony, a scenario that frequently plays out in Crankshaft’s mind? Meanwhile, panel three is definitely one of the scariest things I’ve seen this week, and replicating or even approximating it in real life would probably loosen the tongues of everyone from the perps down at central booking to al Qaeda masterminds. “NO, NOT CRANKSHAFT! I’LL TELL YOU THE REAL ANSWER! JUST DON’T LET HIM NEAR ME!”

Ziggy, 8/13/09

If you’re going to be claiming ownership over sentient beings, Ziggy, perhaps you ought not to have acquired so many of them. You can wave paperwork around all you want, but why should you expect them to respect any system of law that perpetuates their enslavement? The grim expressions make it clear that a bloody revolt is in the offing, with each animal using its particular skills in the cause of their collective freedom. You don’t even want to know what that angry little fish is going to do to you.

(Psst! Interested in seeing a piece I did on various computers in various vehicles?)

Post Content

Slylock Fox, 8/9/09

Of all the unfairly persecuted victims in Slylock Fox, Count Weirdly is clearly the most unfairly persecuted. Gosh, he’s developed some sort of revolutionary hologram chamber than can create what appears to be real environments out of thin air, and Slylock is complaining that every detail isn’t perfect? What sort of anal-retentive jerk would insist that the world created in such a holochamber should mimic reality as closely as possible, anyway? If you want to see owls with regular claws, you can just go out into the woods. If you want to see owls with webbed feet, though, you’ll need to go pay $125 an hour to enter the Count Weirdly Total Fantasy Experience Capsule™. (FINE PRINT: Count Weirdly Total Fantasy Experience Capsule™ customers will be eaten by alligators.)

Family Circus, 8/9/09

My favorite part of this cartoon is Mommy’s disgruntled look, as she knows that she’ll be responsible for dealing with the aftermath of Daddy’s terrifying tales. “Who’s going to go down to the river and wash all this soiled underwear by hand?” “Not me!”

Mark Trail, 8/9/09

This strip seems like a desperate attempt to make amends for the spike in rabies treatments that resulted from last year’s insane “Sneaky the raccoon is a delightful pet” storyline. “Remember, kids, if you’re concerned about rabies, only allow non-rabid raccoons to live with you in your house! They’ll still hoard all of your shiny objects in a nest in your crawlspace and viciously scratch at your face if you try to take them back, though.”

Panels from Apartment 3-G, 8/9/09

“Yes, Cody, I’ll miss all the ‘rides’ with you. Oh, and the horse too. Once again, Margo’s problems mean enforced celibacy for everyone else!”