Archive: Mark Trail

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Mark Trail, 8/2/05

What’s that you say? You’ve been waiting in vain for weeks — nay, months — for another exciting installment of What They Say And What They Mean? Well, wait no longer!

What he says What he means
El Presidente “I’m surprised at Lynn, I didn’t think she would enjoy the outdoors…” I enjoy forcing my underlings and their loved ones to do things they hate in order to prove how much power I have over them. It’s like the time I made my secretary get a tattoo!
El Presidente “She seems to have adjusted well!” I shall have to try harder to break her will. Upon return to civilization, she’ll be joining a naked roller-derby league for my amusement … unless you’ve decided you don’t want a future at my company, of course.
El Presidente “She’s the type of wife I like my executives to have!” Whiny, murderous, social climbing, and cravat-wearing! Oh, and someone told me once that straight women, gay men, and single people can make good executives too. Isn’t that a hoot?
Scott “Thanks … she’s a good woman … I think I’ll turn in!” You know, I was feeling bad about my wife’s plan to kill you. Now I’m more than happy to help out, you loathsome dinosaur. Ever been garroted by a cravat before?

Yes, that’s our patented feature … What They Say And What They Mean! Sometimes it’s even funny!

Incidentally, hasn’t the sky in Mark Trail been a particularly trippy shade of ultra-bright blue lately? Even in strips like this, which ostensibly take place at night? The fact that everyone’s skin is chalk-white makes for extra psychadeliosity. Maybe the mega-amphibian in panel two is meant to stand in for the uncompromising toad-licking that the censors wouldn’t let Jack Elrod show.

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You know what one of the problems of working for the Man is? You can’t tell the Man, “Oh, I’m sorry, I know I said I’d be available to write a bunch of Webcast scripts on short notice, but I don’t think you understand just how wacky Mary Worth is right now.”

Stupid Man.

Anyway, without further ado, I present to you: Mary Worth’s five stages of grief.

1. Startlement

2. Weepiness

(Wait a minute, he gave them to her … on their wedding night? Ew! I mean … ew! Must … not … visualize … Mary Worth’s … wedding night…)

3. “If I can’t see it, maybe it won’t be true”

4. Rage

(John Voight is Mary Worth!)

5. Blank-eyed numbness

And of course, there’s the corollary: Rita’s five stages of keeping her drunk ass from being thrown out on the street.

1. Drunkeness

2. Drunken slack-jawed incomprehension

3. Drunken self-justification

(Whew! Thank God you’re all right. We were worried there for a minute.)

4. Drunken begging for forgiveness

5. Drunken eagerness to please

Where’s denial in all this, you may ask? Well, over in Mark Trail, we’re learning that denial ain’t just a river in the Lost Forest:

Boy, I can’t see anything going wrong in this scenario. You know, there’s an awful lot of Mark Trail-ian sins I’ll be able to forgive if this storyline ends with El Presidente here gone completely mad, foaming at the mouth and lashing out insanely with inhuman strength at anyone with the misfortune to cross his path. It’ll be just like the end of Their Eyes Were Watching God — though there won’t be any black people, this being Mark Trail and all. Actually, I suppose his lackey’s scheming wife might beat the doomed lunatic to death with an oar or something, saving everybody and clearing the way to that suburban split-level ranch for the evil couple. It would be the perfect crime! Except for all the biting.

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Mark Trail, 6/18/05

Has Jack Elrod gone soft? I’ve been saving Mark Trail for what I was sure would be the climactic, triumphant punch today, and instead I get more standin’ around and jawin’. Goddamn it, Elrod, I want fisticuffs! Maybe the middle panel is supposed to be symbolic: just as the crafty squirrel escapes from the mighty hawk to chew nuts adorably another day, so Crane avoids the righteous right hook of justice for now. At least we get another couple good looks at Bob’s stupid little orange hat, though, which I just can’t get enough of.