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Mark Trail, 12/22/06

Damn you, O cruel gods of Mark Trail! Can’t you let our beaver friends maintain their newlywed bliss at least through Christmas? Must our orange-teethed rodents be face uncomprehendingly with hostility on the day the Prince of Peace was born to redeem the original sins of irate property owners and furry tree-gnawing beasts alike? Is there no justice in this world?

Is Lucky and/or Mrs. Lucky holding a rock in his/her adorable little paws in panel one? Because I’m, um, pretty sure that never actually happens.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 12/22/06

OK, I’m going to pass lightly over the fact that the “parent can’t put together kid’s toy” joke is passed beyond “classic” and “dated” status and gone right on to “musty,” and the fact that little Loopie’s “space ship” looks like a roller skate wearing the Tin Man’s scalp as a hat. What mostly amazes me here is that this TDIET was published on December 22, and yet the ground-based UFO in question is portrayed as a birthday present, rather than the more obvious Christmas gift. Did we need the urgency of the party being tomorrow to really bring home the stress of dad’s “living on the edge” lifestyle, but there’s already something lined up for the 12/24 panel? Or is TDIET in the vanguard in the liberal media’s implacable War On Christmas?

Mother Goose and Grimm, 12/22/06

The first use of “playing the cello” to describe this position that I’ve encountered was in Diane DiMassa’s Hothead Paisan: Homicidal lesbian terrorist comic series from the early ’90s. Sadly, since Mother Goose and Grimm appears in family-friendly publications, this strip had to be censored, since the phrase clearly refers to a cat licking its ass. If a child saw a feline applying a tongue to that part of its body in a cartoon, that child would obviously go blind and insane, so it’s a good thing that this bowdlerized version was used instead.

One Big Happy, 12/22/06

Part of Ruthie’s charm is that she straddles the line between “imaginative” and “delusional,” but the phrase “I know the smoke detector is really one of your hidden cameras” is clearly the product of the mind of a budding paranoid schizophrenic. This kid will be in a straight jacket in a rubber room by the age of 13. Presumably she’ll have a heart-warming malapropism ready for the situation.

The Phantom, 12/22/06

In case you’re wondering, Undersecretary Denton’s extrajudicial beatdown has now entered its eighth day. It’s been pretty rough going, though I suppose more so for Denton than for me; today President Luaga manages to get three POK!s out of a single left hook somehow. Anyway, this comic amuses me mostly because of panel three, in which Denton’s administrative assistant gets to live out every white-collar underling’s dream by punching her boss in the face.

Apartment 3-G, 12/22/06

Drunk, jilted Margo + lonely, emotionally needy Gina = SEXIEST CHRISTMAS EVER.

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Judge Parker, 12/2/06

It’s been repeatedly noted by many of you that the whole Randy-Parker-runs-for-judge story line in Judge Parker (which insanely enough has been brewing along in one form or another since October of 2005) has featured a lot of hue and cry over something that nobody anywhere cares about — which is to say, an election for judge. I like to consider myself a fairly informed voter — I actually spent some time this year volunteering for a candidate for the state legislature, not exactly a high-profile office — and I have never, ever encountered a judicial election in which I understood the issues or personalities involved in the least. But I was willing to cut all the improbable campaign antics in Judge Parker a bit of slack: after all, everyone we’ve seen talking about the election was actually involved in one of the campaigns, and those people always care a great deal about what they’re doing, even if nobody else does.

But as Reggie, his inept consigliere Roy, and drunken, vomitous wife Celeste hit the media scrum and the courthouse today, I officially stopped suspending my disbelief. The only reason these TV reporters would be there to cover Reggie Black filing his papers would be if the people of Judge Parker live not in modern America, but in some other civilization, where judges are actually the absolute rulers. The only such society I know of is that of the ancient Hebrews, before Samuel anointed Saul king and set up a monarchy. So there you have it, folks: despite what the clothes and buildings might imply, Judge Parker takes place in Old Testament times. Raju was actually a visiting Tyrian. Mimi’s “Eon” cult was actually a nest of Ba’al worshippers. Neddy and Sophie are actually slaves that Sam captured in battle against the Moabites. And pretty soon we’re going to come see the Philistines burn the down the entire city, which should be pretty awesome.

The other possibility is that the press is all there to cover some sensational gangland triple-homicide trial, and that Reggie is actually being totally sincere in panel two.

One Big Happy, 12/2/06

“Yeah, Ruthie, ever since you and Joe came along, your father and I don’t get to go Mattressland much anymore.”

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When I logged on to my custom Houston Chronicle comics page this evening, I discovered that, alone among my chosen strips, Pluggers was refusing to load.

What could have caused such a thing to happen? Was it the Democrats? Was Pluggers’ down-home wisdom too true for Nancy Pelosi and her chardonnay-swilling crowd? Eagerly, I rushed over to the Pluggers Web site to find out precisely what truth it dared to speak to power.

Pluggers, 11/10/06

I was kind of dissapointed. Ha ha, it’s funny because he’s bald! I’m a little concerned about the stream of black dots emerging from the back of his head, however. They seem to be the same color as his eyebrows, more or less. Are those the last chunks of his hair, flying away in the breeze? Was that fancy sports car really worth the last shreds of your head-covering dignity, bald dog-man?

One Big Happy, 11/10/06

I usually leave the silent penultimate panel watching to the Silent Penultimate Panel Watch, but the instance in today’s One Big Happy was particularly interesting. Panel three captures that awkward moment in which you’ve told a joke and nobody gets it and so you have to stare or gesture or something to drive your point home. Of course, the advantage of being in a comic strip is that such awkward moments don’t have to exist; Joe’s joke would have worked without that silent third panel. With that panel in there, however, I almost think the strip is supposed to be less a vehicle for Joe’s slam on Ruthie and more an examination of how poorly he told it. His use of the phrase “real fast” in the final panel is undermined by the silent frame that preceded it, which, since comic time is ultimately determined by the reader, could last as long as you care to stare at it.

Grandpa, as usual, would rather be somewhere else.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 11/10/06

Having apparently completely exhausted the inventory of things that they will do every time, TDIET has now apparently decided to move on to things that even it admits they will never, ever do.