Archive: Mark Trail

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Mark Trail, 6/10/07

Dear humankind,

“Most belligerent animals for their size in the world,” huh? All right, nobody’s gonna mistake us for a bunch of namby-pamby, let’s-all-get-along types, we’ll admit. But do you two-leggers ever think that maybe there’s a reason we’re so belligerent? Huh? Do you?

Let’s start with the food angle. You know if you’re on a road trip, you sometimes say, “Oh, I don’t want to wait to get to Nashville to have dinner, let’s eat at the Sbarro at the next rest stop”? Well, imagine if the consequences of not stopping weren’t just getting hungry and cranky, but frickin’ droppin’ dead. And then, imagine that, instead of getting a baked ziti in a plastic container that you can easily take out to your car, you have to kill and eat an undersea bug the size of your head! Probably one with stingers or something. A frickin’ bug! And once you’ve eaten it, you’ve just got to start running (or swimming) around looking for more bugs to eat.

And then there’s the way you get treated. “Oh, look, how cute, your babies have formed a shrew-chain as they desperately cling on to your tail for dear life … oops, I just crushed them all to death with my enormous freakin’ foot!” And don’t even get me started on the freakin’ cats. “Hi there snoogy snoogums! How’s my sweet fluffy girl? Did you have a nice day outside? Awww, did you bring me a prize? You did! You brought me the corpse of an innocent shrew, who never did anything in its life to hurt you! Oh, look, it doesn’t seem to have any visible wounds — you must have batted it around until its internal organs were mashed to putty! How cute! Now let me take the body away and throw it in the garbage!”

It’s this kind of demeaning attitude that leads to a prevalent anti-shrew attitude in law enforcement agencies around the world. So, yeah, belligerent? Maybe we’re a little freakin’ belligerent. But maybe we’ve got some good freakin’ motivation.

Sincerely,
The shrews

P.S. We poop in your cereal boxes, FYI.

Apartment 3-G, 6/10/07

I mainly ran this so we can all continue to enjoy Margo’s bitchtasticness. Today, we see that her reluctance to go see her dear friend one-third of the rent for her apartment in the hospital may be more than a knee-jerk Margoism; she’s obviously just gotten collagen injections in preparation for Eric’s return from wherever it is he’s jetted off to, and she probably doesn’t want to go out in public for a few more days.

I do have to say re: panel five that I am getting a little weary of everyone being so stunned to find Tommie at the hospital. “So we’re at the emergency room and OH MY GOD THERE’S TOMMIE, WHO IF WE HAD SPENT MORE THAN FIVE MINUTES TALKING TO HER THE FIRST TIME WE MET WE’D PROBABLY HAVE LEARNED THAT SHE WAS AN EMERGENCY ROOM NURSE AT THIS VERY HOSPITAL!” It’s possible that, in a desperate attempt to get people interested in her, Tommie actually tells everybody that she has a much more glamorous career, as a CIA spy or Queen of Norway or something. It’s also possible that she’s so boring that nobody ever even makes it to the typical “so what do you for a living and where do you do it” part of that first conversation.

Tommie’s shock at seeing Alan is perhaps a bit more understandable, since he long ago swore a drunken oath to leave the evil metropolis of New York and all it stood for behind. Plus, he appears to be wearing eyeliner.

Mary Worth, 6/10/07

This may be one of the most horrifying Mary Worths ever, and not just because Vera looks like one of those soul-searing Margaret Keane paintings in panel five. We’ve watched Mary slowly break Vera’s independence and will over the past few weeks. Yesterday we saw saw the catharsis that came when she completed her Worth-appointed mission. Today, the upper level of her conscious mind seems to indicate that she yearns for freedom again, but her glassy expression and final thought — return to the programmer for further instructions — tell us that she’s still in the puppet mistress’s thrall. Of course, we all know that, now that Mary has convinced Vera to do the exact opposite of what she’s wanted to do for so many years, the innocent girl holds no more appeal to the meddling biddy; once Vera returns to Charterstone, Mary will just crack open her skull and feast on her brain, then have Dawn Weston post a “sublettor wanted” ad for Vera’s apartment on Craigslist.

Panel from Cathy, 6/10/07

I try to keep everyone’s exposure to Cathy to a minimum, but I do feel this panel is worth noting, because the phrase “Someone needs to relax! Let’s assemble a backyard gazebo!” is actually kind of surreally funny out of context. I’m pretty sure if you shaved Irving’s head and put a polka-dotted mumu on him, he’d be Zippy the Pinhead.

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Gil Thorp, 6/8/07

Dum dee dum, oh look, it’s Gil Thorp, where the characters are always an oddly drawn band of quasi-humans. Yes, there they are, strangely shaped, but I’m totally used to that by now … I’ll just move on to the final panel and see YEEEARRRGGGHHHH!!!!

Man, I guess Brynna Antenna got sick of being called “Brynna Antenna,” but was unable to conceive of any other hairstyle, and so just decided to go for the Lt. Ilia look. Now that her antennae are gone, all her psychic powers are just radiating out from her shiny bald pate.

The Milford Lady Mudlarks softball team is now officially the jumpiest-to-conclusionist bunch in the comics pages. First they assume that Coach Mrs. Coach Thorp has cancer because of a half-overheard phone conversation, then Brynna Baldie shaves her head in premature solidarity — before finding out whether or not her coach will have to undergo chemo, or even whether the other girls on the team are on board. Of course, since she’s Tyler’s girlfriend, it should come as no surprise that she lurches into ill-advised schemes. Hopefully they’ll get to room together at the mental hospital.

Oh, yeah, speaking of Tyler … the long delayed Self-Clubbing Tyler winner will be announced … MONDAY! So you’ll have all weekend to let your anticipatory excitement BUILD!

Mark Trail, 6/8/07

The wide-eyed, terrified, badly banged Sam Hill we see in panel two is perhaps one of the most wonderful images in recent Mark Trail history, even when the high bar established by the savage duck attack in panel one is taken into consideration. I particularly like the fact that for some reason the space in her open mouth has been left gleaming white. It’s as if she’s simultaneously shouting in terror and gritting her teeth in grim determination.

Her ludicrous facial expression might be best explained not by the swarm of highly trained attack ducks, but by the fact that her cravat is obviously too tight, cutting off blood flow to the head.

Apartment 3-G, 6/8/07

It took long enough, but Apartment 3-G has finally figured out how to make this “Lu Ann Is Hospitalized At Tommie’s Hospital” storyline interesting. Lu An having seizures? BORING! Tommie in her professional environment? BORING! Margo disheveled in a nightie? Now we’re talking. Hopefully we’ll get to see her bathroom preparations (yes, Lu Ann’s in the hospital, but Margo does not just roll out of bed and leave the apartment) so we can see what sort of shampoo she uses to maintain that Mary Tyler Moore/Marilyn Quayle hair flip all night.

Archie, 6/8/07

I thought I’d share with you a little of the code from the algorithm that powers the Archie Joke-Generating Laugh Unit 3000:

if
  assessLameness(joke.this) > Unspeakable
then
  insertDrawing(BettysAssCrack)

Shoe, 6/8/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because Roz’s boyfriend is an alcoholic!

Wait, Roz has a boyfriend?

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Apartment 3-G, 6/6/07

“And now … CHOKE … SOB … she needs me more than ever and I’m too self-absorbed!

Tommie’s level of self-absorption is actually fairly impressive, considering how boring she is. I mean, Margo is pretty into herself, but we’re all into her too, so it sort of makes sense.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/6/07

The sad thing is that this game of misery one-upmanship is what passes for flirting in Funky Winkerbean. At least nobody’s thrown up on anybody yet.

Mark Trail, 6/6/07

The sad thing is that this dialog — which, I’m pretty sure, is what you’d get if you gave a thousand monkeys a thousand typewriters and tried to have them reproduce the horse-racing scene from The Big Sleep — is what passes for flirting in Mark Trail. At least he isn’t starting things off with a game of “Got your nose!”