Post Content

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/27/05

Today’s Rex Morgan, M.D., is actually a quite lovely chiaroscuro composition; even the sweatshop coloring hacks knew to leave well enough alone, adding only a splash of red to Rex’s tie that’s quite striking in and of itself. The mood is appropriately somber for the subject matter, but the dialogue confirms my growing suspicion that there’s only one competent medical practitioner in the Morgan family, and it isn’t the one who goes around waving some fancy initials around after his name in an overly compensatory fashion. Maybe Rex is distracted by the recent departure of his sexy blond archaeologist buddy, but his comments here give the impression less of “trained doctor” and more of “Catch Me If You Can-style fraud.” First, he seems baffled by the idea that a wounded man coming back from a war zone might have a piece of metal embedded in his body; then he claims ignorance as to why discussing an injured individual might be relevant at a medical practice. I mean, forget med school; anyone who’s seen an episode of M*A*S*H could have faked his way through this conversation better than “Dr.” Morgan.

The war in Iraq is a potentially touchy subject for the comics pages, even for an ostensibly “issue”-oriented strip like Rex Morgan (though the “issues” raised by the Fence Post Frank/Buck plot would be best dealt with by a psychologist and a landscape architect). If this storyline takes a stand more controversial than “Wounded soldiers should have their wounds treated promptly by a skilled medical professional” (which, I can’t emphasize strongly enough to Jack, would in this case be June), Rex Morgan, M.D. might find itself exiled to the Opinions page with the Boondocks and Mallard Fillmore.

Of course, if the strip needs some help in talking about the war without actually, you know, talking about the war, it should take some lessons from the master:

Beetle Bailey, 9/27/05

Soldier, I know it seems like some of the tasks you’re ordered to undertake are small or irrelevant, but each one slowly but surely advances the cause of freedom. And by “cause of freedom,” I mean “some campaign contributor’s stock portfolio.” I’m not sure how the Army gets its martini glasses, but I’m betting it involves a no-bid contract and a Halliburton subsidiary.

Post Content

Hagar the Horrible, 8/25/05

If I’ve ever complained about the lack of historical accuracy in Hagar the Horrible, I take it all back. In comic strips that take place in pre-modern times, there’s certain aspects of the setting that make for fun jokes (like funny clothes and technical backwardness) and certain aspects that do not (like pressuring your underage children into marriage).

Tune in next week when Honi dies in childbirth at the age of 19. Oh, the hilarity!

All this Viking daughter-pimping hasn’t distracted me from today’s special guest appearance in Rex Morgan, M.D., though:

Secret talks with oil barons? Fixed intelligence on Iraq? Tender, delicious puppies, cooked just the way he likes them? That’s right, baby: Dick Cheney always gets what he wants.

Post Content

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/25/05

Dr. Hamilton is, of course, a man of science, so when he expresses combined-bold-and-italics-level shock at the notion that Buck was sired by a human male in the usual way, I assume it’s because he had already settled on an alternative explanation for the young man’s existence. Here are some potential theories:

• He was brewed up in a lab by a secretive clan of scientists looking to create the ultimate, fearless manifestation of modern man in all his wonderful and terrible glory.
• He was shot forth self-living out of the bosom of the Earth, perfectly formed, with a day’s growth of beard and every sexy blond hair out of place just so.
• He arrived from outer space in a glowing disk of light, with so much to teach us about our place in the universe … and about each other.
• He was born of a virgin, and was beaten within an inch of his life with a fence post for our sins.
• He just showed up one day on the outskirts of town, hitching a ride in on an old pick-up truck. We never did catch where he came from, but things sure are less exciting around here now that he’s gone.

With such lofty ideas in mind, I can understand that it must come as a shock and disappointment to Dr. Hamilton to learn that Buck’s genesis came about in the usual way. Especially when he got a load of the combover on one half of that genesis.