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Mark Trail, 3/28/07

OK, yesterday’s zany talking rug was obviously just the lead-in to the full-on peyote-drenched nightmare that is … this. Sometimes people say things in the comments before I read a strip and I think, “Oh, they’re exaggerating” but … that potato in the first panel is talking. It. Is. Talking. It … JESUS AND SHE’S GOING TO PUT A KNIFE RIGHT THROUGH IT! Panel two is obviously a “world as perceived by Cherry’s drug-addled mind” view: the reason her skull is so unnaturally bulbous is because it’s full of people who talk and argue without her opening her mouth; the look of sheer panic and disgust on her face indicates that she’s ready to crack her own head open just to MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP FOR GOD’S SAKE MAKE IT STOP. The rather pedestrian scene of a giant bear ratiocinating in the final panel is prosaic and calming by comparison to the horror that came before.

Judge Parker, 3/28/07

Comprende? Comprende? OK, seriously, now they’re just fucking with us. Someone has ordered the dialogue in Judge Parker to be translated into “foreign.”

They’ll Do It Every Time, 3/28/07

NOTE TO ALL PERSONS NOT LIVING IN YEARS PREVIOUS TO 1965: When your spouse or partner says, “I’m so sick of doing chore X,” the correct answer is, “I’ll do chore X tonight.” OH YEAH!

I can particularly see why Catastra might be so tired of doing dishes, since it seems that this family of three has managed to dirty dozens of them in the course of a single meal.

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Funky Winkerbean, 3/27/07

Man, just when I thought Funky Winkerbean couldn’t dip any further into emotional turmoil and human anguish, I think we’re about to see Coach Dude Whose Name I Forget ask his childhood bullying victim to inseminate his wife. Which will be more awesome, this or the FBOFW teen sex storyline? Only queasy, uncomfortable time will tell!

Mark Trail, 3/27/07

As a long-time fan of Mark Trail, I totally accept things like giant talking skunks without a bit of hesitation. But I’m having trouble with the giant talking rug in the third panel here. Which appears to be on the wall for some reason. Or is it perched on Mark’s shoulder? Or are Mark and Cherry actually standing on the wall, their bodies held parallel to the ground by some strange force, like Lionel Richie in the damn “Dancing on the Ceiling” video? Is that what’s going on here?

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Lio, 3/25/07

OK, despite the fact that Mark Tatulli has made a few comments on my site, I’ve managed to not cover his relatively new strip Lio here, mostly because it’s good. Still, how could I not share this with those of you who haven’t seen it? (Though based on the number of you who’ve emailed to me, I’m guessing that number is pretty low.) While there’s a long tradition of comics artists good-naturedly snarking on each other in their features (see today’s Pearls Before Swine for another installment in the long-running mock feud between Stephan Pastis and Get Fuzzy’s Darby Conley), I do have to wonder if this will be seen within the profession as crossing some kind of line. Watch yourself if you’re ever in Canada, Mark, is what I’m saying.

Mark Trail, 3/25/07

I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m pretty sure that Mark Trail is a tool of the anti-Christ. Two years ago, the Christmas installment consigned baby Jesus to the throwaway panels and focused most of its energy on that thinly veiled pagan nature spirit, Santa Claus. Now, this ostensibly Easter-inspired strip contains exactly zero crucified saviors, but makes the shocking claims that rabbits are the most beloved symbol of the holiday and that they are messengers of some higher power. Also, it keeps bringing up the Germans, so I think Mark is probably a Nazi as well.

Mary Worth, 3/25/07

What in the good lord’s name is Mary doing to Vera’s hand in the last panel? It’s like she’s realized that Vera is so eager to move into Charterstone that she can get away with all sorts of abuse of the sublettor-manager’s code of ethics. “Yes, Vera, all new Charterstone tenants get a complimentary two-hour knuckle massage! Now, hold still.”

Dennis the Menace, 3/25/07

Mom’s been smiling all day about going to a party that involves “bowls.” I see a heartbreaking Reefer Madness-style future series in which Dennis and his dad must break Mrs. Mitchell from her insatiable appetite for marijuana.