Archive: Rex Morgan, M.D.

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Mary Worth, 6/8/09

As I demanded, so has it been done: POOL PARTY! You don’t know what it’s been like, knowing from your comments that a pool party was in progress but forced to toil on other more lucrative projects rather than enjoy my comics-stories. Now that I’m here, though, it’s pretty darn awesome. Ian is, as one would expect, resplendent in his fuzzy electric blue jacket, and Mary is sporting a kicky black jumper. But I’m most intrigued by the pair of gents in white shirts and high-waisted pants. The dark-haired fellow in panel one, wearing khaki pants and a t-shirt, is posing as if hoping to be discovered by the manager of a low-end clothing catalog. But in panel two, we catch a glimpse, obscured behind Toby’s word balloon blather, of sandy-haired character in baby blue slacks and a luminous polo shirt. Will their eyes meet across the crowded courtyard? Will they chat about how difficult it is to find belts that are the exact same color as one’s pants, and will romance blossom? STAY TUNED!

Speaking of blossoming romance, what are we to make of Toby’s awkward “I loved how she and her husband got together”? My question hinges on the use of “how.” In many cases in casual conversation, “how” simply means “the fact that” (i.e., “I love how Mary is drinking wood-grain alcohol through a straw”), and thus Toby’s statement conveys nothing more than bland approval for a successful coupling. But if “how” is taken to mean “the way in which,” then we must presume there is some sort of meet-cute backstory here (hopefully to be conveyed in ham-handed flashback form). If that’s the case, we may learn that this storyline’s lesson will be the same as the last’s: that the only marriages that last are those in which the groom is selected by the bride’s father from the families of his close associates.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/8/09

Boy, I sure lost interest in this Rex Morgan storyline, didn’t I? If you haven’t been following along, take my word for it that it’s been extremely dull and not even a little bit gay. I admit to being amused by panel one here, though, in which formerly eager-to-please (and formerly black) Guido Tomas rages histrionically upon being revealed as a human trafficker. I think “I am the second officer!” is a somewhat funny thing to yell if you’re pulling the “Don’t you know who I am” card. “Unhand me! My authority derives from the Law of the Sea, and from a bankrupt cruise line! Look, my uniform has epaulets and yours do not! Does that not make it clear that I am of higher status than you?”

Gil Thorp, 6/8/09

Could anything be more pleasing than the final panel in today’s Gil Thorp, in which the sweaty, exhausted Mudlarks collapse and/or vomit onto to the outfield in exhaustion? I suppose it could be topped if the next several days consist of panel after wordless panel of the scene of carnage, with unconscious teenagers flopped pell-mell everywhere, like the famous crane shot of Confederate wounded in Gone With The Wind, and then the next two years are taken up with Gil and the school board defending themselves in the massive lawsuit that will inevitably follow.

Archie, 6/8/09

Insulated from consequences and separated from the common herd by his Croesus-like wealth, Mr. Lodge has gone mad with power and begun conducting experiments on human subjects to satisfy his idle curiosity. “I wonder if this cholesterol medication has been approved by the FDA?” “The pills sure look effective, don’t they? Why not try eight or twelve and see what happens?”

Family Circus, 6/8/09

Generally speaking, if you crush a child’s sense of fun and whimsy early, the transition to white-collar drudgery is significantly less traumatic.

Pluggers, 6/8/09

A plugger’s night on the town could unfold in pretty much exactly the same sequence, at exactly the same stores and restaurants, in any town in America, which is kind of depressing.

Wizard of Id, 6/8/09

Ha ha! It’s funny because prisoners receive substandard health care!

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Spider-Man, 5/24/09

So, what’s the most insultingly improbable thing that happens in today’s Spider-Man? Is it that Peter would have forgotten his epic battle with an electrically powered super-villain, which concluded only hours before? Is it that beautiful young movie star Mary Jane would just smile after accidentally being called by the name of her husband’s wizened old aunt? (At least it wasn’t during sex … this time.) No, more laughable than both of those is the idea that anyone, anywhere was moved by anything that happened in the Spider-Man newspaper strip to go through the trouble of writing a letter to anybody. Really, narration box, give us a little credit.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 5/24/09

Hootin’ Holler’s sole religious authority sure does a good job of opiating the inbred masses with his God talk. I suppose that makes them more likely to cough up the cash when he needs a new TV.

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/24/09

June in a nutshell, ladies and gentlemen. There’s nothing like terrible food poisoning to cut down on the crowds poolside, you know what I’m saying?

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Hagar the Horrible, 5/7/09

Ha ha, that Hagar! Always with the desperate need to pump his body full of as much alcohol as humanly possible! It’s probably legitimate to blame Hagar’s woes on “the economy,” as it’s much easier for a lightly armed and highly mobile group of Vikings to plunder a trading ship than it is for them to besiege a fortified castle; a decline in trade means slimmer pickings for pirates and raiders. Of course, raids from Scandinavian war-bands like Hagar’s, along with similar attacks from Arab raiders from North Africa and Magyar horsemen from Hungary, are exactly what helped nip the modest Carolingian economic revival in 9th century Western Europe in the bud, so it’s hard to feel sorry for him as he sees his economically parasitic life’s work becoming more difficult.

Oh, wait, this is supposed to be about the modern-day economy? Never mind.

Call me obsessed with minute changes in comic strip fonts if you must, but I swear that “this economy” in that final panel is slightly less bold than the rest of the dialogue in that word balloon. This of course brings my mind to conspiracy theories about the original wording, which told us what really Hagar needs to learn to “get used to” without the sweet, mind-killing taste of booze. I hope it was “that creeping feeling of existential dread, that realization that nothing you do in this life matters in any meaningful way.”

Also, does this joke perhaps seem familiar to you? Well, of course it does.

Mary Worth, 5/7/09

Hey, dads out there! When your daughter has just been completely devastated — when she’s just found out that the man who made her feel emotionally complete, the one who she was ready to spend her life with, was a liar and a fraud — do you know what will make her feel better? Cupcakes! Cupcakes with pretty pink frosting! Cupcakes and your assurance that you’ll be running her love life from here on in, so she doesn’t have to worry about exercising that pesky autonomy anymore.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/7/09

“Uh, yeah, that’s right, I’m my mother’s daughter! I’m totally not some 45-year-old male dwarf she’s hired to play the part, for some reason. Now if you excuse me, I have to take care of this five o’ clock shadow.”