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Marvin, 2/14/07

There’s been something increasingly disturbing to me about the rage-a-thon that’s been building up in Marvin all week. Our titular enormous-headed baby has been alternately standing defiantly in the corner with his back to us and turning around to mug for the viewer, but I think this is the first time that his face has been such a transparent mask of evil and hate. Watch out, mom and dad: now that he has the ability to walk upright, he also has his hands free to kill.

Mary Worth, 2/14/07

I’m beginning to believe that this bedside conversation will go down in Mary Worth lore as the Great Meddle of 2007. Some might whine about how long and drawn out and boring it is, but that’s precisely the point; we’ve been privileged to watch Dr. Jeff’s will be slowly broken by degrees. Look at how he’s squirming around, clutching the bed handle in the first frame, adopting the universal Victorian “vapours” pose in the second: he’s like a particularly fascinating insect trapped under an entomologist’s pin, and there’s no escape for him.

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Mary Worth, 1/16/07

Wow, so Mary’s arrived in Vietnam! And she’s managed to check into that country’s most cracker-tastic hotel! It looks like our bow-tie wearing desk clerk has only been Asian-ized thanks to a last-minute introduction of “sallow” by the coloring sweatshop gnomes, who are themselves no doubt based somewhere in Southeast Asia (though probably not Vietnam, as wages there are too high; I’m thinking Myanmar).

The happy Aryan couple in the background of panel two sure are excited to start their Vietnamese adventure; in fact, the redhead looks particularly excited, if you know what I mean. And I think you do.

Pluggers, 1/16/07

Sure, this is mainly a gentle pun on “overlook,” but I think it’s telling and hilarious just what it is Dog-Man is looking at over his reading glasses. He didn’t forget to buy milk and bread at the supermarket; he forgot to take the pill he needs to keep his ham-clogged circulatory system in something resembling working order. Because pluggers need expensive prescription medication in order to live.

Also, to the surprise of nobody, pluggers have trouble distinguishing between the plural and the possessive in writing. Pluggers, I think you might need some unwelcome education from Bob the Angry Flower.

Marvin, 1/16/07

Wow, remember last week, when Marvin was cracking wise about the massive dump he just took? Bet you never thought you’d look back on that and think it was classy and tasteful.

Mark Trail, 1/16/07

“Uh-oh, here comes your dad. He’s going to see the beaver!”

I … I don’t think there’s anything I can add to that.

Crankshaft, 1/16/07

Ha ha! Crankshaft is mad because he thinks that “lifestyle” is code for “gay”.

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Spider-Man, 1/13/07

The secret fear of anyone in a profession that might be broadly labeled as “helpful” is that they’ll do such a good job that they’ll be rendered obsolete. For instance, for my non-comics-mocking job, I for the most part edit material written by and for computer programmers; deep down, I worry that my skillful and helpful suggestions will eventually sink in, and the geeks of the world will soon be sending grammatical, well structured, easy-to-read prose to publishers worldwide, rendering my services superfluous; this is why I’m trying to milk as much cash from the comics gig as I can. Police officers presumably fret that one day they’ll eliminate all crime everywhere, freeing up tax dollars to go towards city-subsidized public bocce courts. Perhaps this is why cops turn corrupt: it’s actually part of their union rules, so that there’s always crime to fight.

For superheroes, it’s not cash at stake, since any one of them could make big money on the sideshow circuit; rather, it’s their intrinsic sense of self-worth. Spider-Man’s own ego is pretty shaky: he plummets into a pointless pit of hypermacho self-loathing every time he realizes that his wife makes more than he does. Thus, it should come as no surprise that he positively revels in Los Angeles’ sky-high crime rate as the only cure to his sense of existential despair. Sure, it’s apparently just some extra from a gay pirate porno film dabbling in a little purse snatching, but whiny whiny Peter Parker will take emotional validation from wherever he can get it.

Marvin, 1/13/07

Note to cartoonist everywhere: Most of the characters in your feature may just crap in their pants instead of into a toilet like civilized people, but doesn’t mean that you can repeatedly make jokes about it, OK? Just … just trust me on this. It’s not acceptable. God help us all if this spreads to the folks at the other end of the age spectrum in Gasoline Alley or Momma.

B.C., 1/13/07

OK, see, the first boomerang joke was mildly amusing. The second is loopy and weird, and sort of indicates that Johnny Hart has the idea of a boomerang sort of stuck in his mind like a bit of chicken between two teeth, and he’s idly working at it with his tongue, and we have to watch the results. And it’s a boomerang. Not something interesting and relevant and funny. A boomerang. Troubling.