Archive: Shoe

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Shoe, 8/12/07

Sunday’s Shoe is the latest in an occasional series I like to call “Jokes that hint distastefully at the Perfesser’s sex life.” The throwaway panel features a pointless statement about “eyes being well-rested” (one usually only talks about resting one’s eyes if one is a late-middle-aged uncle claiming not to be napping) that only serves to set up a punchline making hay from the Perfesser’s tendency to ogle women so blatantly that it makes them uncomfortable. Later, we get an extended riff that hints broadly at impotence, always a non-stop laugh riot, and then goes further by drawing a connection between the ability to achieve an erection and the ability to sit passively on the couch and receive hundreds of channels of mind-numbing, lowest-common-denominator entertainment. At least panel four can be enjoyed on its own because it looks looks like the Perfesser is contemplating jumping to his death.

Hi and Lois, 8/12/07

Gosh, Lois, those are good questions! Why is it that when it comes to this vacation, all the “good” parts for your kids involved “suffering” or “pain” or “humiliation”? Or “all of the above”? What would make them “enjoy” those sorts of experiences? Let’s ask someone who might have an “idea” about that:

Ouch, the truth hurts! Which is just how the Flagston kids like it.

Finally, Sunday’s Crock’s throwaway panel tells you pretty much all you need to know about the strip’s politics:

Equal rights, you say? Oh..oh indeed!

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Mark Trail, 8/4/07

Who says Mark Trail isn’t good at depicting human beings? In most hugs I’ve participated in, Person A throws his or her arms completely around Person B, tightly pinning Person B’s arms to his or her torso while he or she stands there, ramrod-straight, grinning somewhat uncomfortably. It’s a joy to behold such human closeness!

Shoe, 8/4/07

Shoe takes a break from its recent obsession with death and regret and death to offer something a little lighter: old drunks with diarrhea.

Pluggers, 8/4/07

Pluggers are desperate substance addicts. If they haven’t had their junk, they’re angry and prone to ugly bouts of violence.

Speaking of Pluggers, faithful reader (and actual math professor) TurtleBoy did some epic number crunching to try to distill out some useful facts on the demographics of Pluggers and TDIET contributors. Will it be enough to get him tenure? Check it out!

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Apartment 3-G, 7/29/07

For shame, Margo Magee! I seem to remember that a certain young brunette was very pleased to received all sorts of aesthetically unsettling knickknacks from total strangers celebrating her liberation from white slavery. So don’t begrudge the brain-damaged girl her moment in the sun, OK?

Unless Eric’s note features magical talking handwriting, Tommie doesn’t know what it is that has Margo so excited, but we can all still join her in a hearty “Where?!” Eric said “dinner at my place tomorrow night”, Margo. Either she’s planning on spending a full 24 hours primping for their reunion, or she’s going to burst into his apartment early and catch him in the arms of his sister-in-law. Either way, it’ll make for four to six weeks of good fun.

Shoe, 7/29/07

I’m really starting to worry about Shoe. As I’ve noted, the strip suddenly seems fixated on wasted lives and impending death. Today, as if five consecutive panels of a sobbing, emotionally distraught Perfesser weren’t enough, in the first panel we actually get to see Gilmore the Goldfish’s last moment on earth, his heavy-lidded eyes solemn with the sudden realization that for him, the veil separating this world from the next was about to part and he would forever transcend to the beyond. Then, for good measure, we’re shown his corpse. Bizarrely, the whole thing is capped off with a nonsensical joke. It’s as if Roz is telling us that the only way we can escape the crushing pain that comes with the knowledge of our own mortality is by taking refuge in the deliberate nonsense of Dada.

Funky Winkerbean, 7/29/07

The Moment We’ve All Been Waiting For is here, more or less, though surely Darrin will spend weeks moping aimlessly with the knowledge that his birth mother is dying of cancer before he actually works up the nerve to talk to her. I mostly wanted to point out his look of stunned horror as his face looms above the “BEAN” in Winkerbean in the first panel. It really nicely encapsulates the mood of the strip, though it does leave us wondering about his mouth — a perfect O of shock, or a grimace of emotional distress?

Finally, today’s Mary Worth is too horrible for me to contemplate, but I did want to share this pic from faithful reader Dan, who offers it as proof that tiny, tiny horses like the ones Drew and Dawn are riding do exist — in Mongolia!

This frankly opens up a number of wonderful possibilities. Are Drew and Dawn training in the art of nomad horsemanship? Will they join a fearsome horde of warriors, swooping down upon the settled folk, burning their homes, stealing their gold, and leaving piles of bones in their wake? Will Charterstone be their first target? Please?