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Mark Trail, 3/22/09

Is this more Mark Trail misogyny? “Hey fellas, when these ‘roly-poly’ liberated broads want you to help with the kids, it sure does cut into your ‘extracurricular activities,’ amiright? By the way, these feminist grub-eating freaks are the ‘bald eagles of New Zealand,’ which tells you all you need to know about New Zealand. USA NUMBER 1!”

Blondie, 3/22/09

“Emily Armful”? “Clint Brawny”? I … I think that Dagwood and Blondie spent New Years at some kind of adult film industry event. I suppose that would be a particularly lucrative market for a caterer to try to break into.

Judge Parker, 3/22/09

In the final panel of today’s Judge Parker, we learn that this whole “changing my image and trying out for the cheerleading squad” routine has been a smokescreen; Sophie apparently intends to get her revenge on the popular girls who wronged her by simply murdering them. In fact, she’s so pleased with herself that she’s broken out into a little disco dance routine. “My en-e-mies won’t be stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive…”

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Mark Trail, 3/21/09

Now, there are certain aspects of this current Mark Trail storyline that some readers might deem “unrealistic.” For instance, in this suspicious day and age, would the average service employee just start handing out addresses (or, in this case, vague descriptions of cabin locations) of customers to any sideburned prison-orange-clad total strangers who ask? Perhaps not; but then again, would your average counter jockey even know where most of his customers live? I think it’s obvious that our mustachioed barista is, by the very virtue of his mustache, Mark’s sworn enemy. You’ll note that his facial hair is particularly outlandish, with a waxed curlicue on the left side of his face and an unruly bristle on the right; surely such a hairy-lipped cad can’t have lived in such close proximity to Mark for this long and escaped his righteous fists. Too cowardly to seek revenge himself, he instead recognizes a kindred spirit in his fellow baldy, and hopes to set the stage for Mark’s destruction by sending these two ne’er-do-wells right to our hero’s LoFo lair.

Funky Winkerbean, 3/21/09

Funky Winkerbean is cruel both to its characters and to its readers. We’ve endured this strip’s grey drone of depression for long enough; surely we earned the right to see the bloody, limb-severing melée that broke out when Harry Dinkle attempted to “conduct” his symphony. But no, instead of enjoying the catharsis and seeing the band room splattered with gore, we’re only treated to seeing one of the few students who somehow escaped the carnage, still in shock and just starting to come to terms to what she saw. Very unsatisfying.

Crock, 3/21/09

The war crimes trial of Commandant Vermin P. Crock was full of shocking revelations that brought First World citizens face to face with the atrocities that marked the colonial wars fought in their name. But it was the testimony about the Legion’s use of child soldiers that had the biggest impact on world opinion. “I loved those boys!” the defendant professed tearfully on the witness stand. “I made sure they received an excellent education, even in the midst of their military duties!” Was it a cynical attempt to blunt the force of the fury that had risen against him? Or was he genuinely blind to the enormity of what he had done to those children?

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Mark Trail, 3/18/09

Thank goodness Mark Trail has given up on its attempts to depict all-too-realistic and depressing human behavior and is going back to its bread and butter: attempting to depict hilarious and completely incomprehensible human behavior. Because the following list of activities is in order of increasing conspicuousness, obviously:

• Two dudes hanging around in a restaurant in broad daylight, drinking coffee and wearing hideously colored shirts.
• Two adults accosting a child they don’t know and offering obscene sums of money buy his camera.
• Two random people appearing in the background of a terribly composed picture, which will be printed automatically from a machine and put into a sad little scrapbook by a neglected orphan who lives in the woods and has no friends.

Luann, 3/18/09

OK, so Luann is clearly never going to give us less of … this, so from here on in, I want more. More, do you hear me? The only way this strip’s never-ending stream of queasy sexuality will become palatable to me is if it just goes completely over the top, turning the whole thing into some ludicrously repulsive French sex farce. I want to see Mrs. DeGroot seducing TJ for information (“TJ, I can’t stop thinking about the other day in the bathroom … but my fantasies would be so much hotter if I knew what you did for a living!”). I want to see Brad accidentally invite Toni to dinner at an S&M club (“Gosh, I thought that meant they served salad and macaroni!”). I want to see Bernice arrange a tryst between her soldier brother and Delta — and then retreat back to her room to watch via the hidden cameras and masturbate furiously. I want to see Gunther at the San Diego FurCon ’09 after-party, grinning bashfully while being serviced by dozens of obedient piggies. I want to see Luann and Elwood … no, wait, never mind, even I have my limits.

Hi and Lois, 3/18/09

Sunday’s neglect-o-thon made the case for a Child Protective Services visit to the Flagston residence, and today that case just got a little bit stronger. As Trixie sits alone in the middle of the floor, surrounded by scattered toys, she notes that her family “disappears” every day, but doesn’t mention anything about anyone coming to her house in their place.

Curtis, 3/18/09

Barry is right to be concerned. Curtis does not have the right attitude to find much financial success as a prostitute.

Ziggy, 3/18/09

Even Ziggy’s computer is repulsed by his sexual advances.

Pluggers, 3/18/09

Sure, they eventually put on the belt, go to their soul-killing jobs, then come home and eat pizza and drink beer in front of the TV until they doze off; but for most pluggers, that moment in the morning when they contemplate suicide is, perversely, the high point of their day.