Archive: Shoe

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Shoe, 5/23/07

There’s something I find deeply unsettling about the lovingly rendered paper coffee cups, complete with sippy lids and little cardboard sleeves, that Roz and her one-off-punchline-providing friend are drinking out of. Maybe it’s because Roz herself is the proprietor of an anachronistic diner in which coffee comes in two varieties — regular and decaf — and is decanted out of a clear glass coffeepot into porcelain mugs, and thus to see her drinking her venti half-caf americcino with steamed milk or whatever seems like a vision of treason. Maybe it’s because everything in this whole elaborate Starbucks-esque setting, with the standard-issue fixings bar in the background and round tables and such, is in fact, like everything else in Shoe, precariously perched on a tree limb, as the foliage in the background indicates.

Unfortunately, the fact that one-off-punchline-providing friend can describe with heavy-lidded indifference the gazes of those who yearn to slice her up and remake her to match their own vision does not, in fact, unsettle me. It’s far from the worst that can happen to you in Shoe. At least nobody is proposing to fry and eat her.

Archie, 5/23/07

See, here’s how you would do this strip: You have Mr. Flutesnoot fiddling around with Bunsen burners and test tubes and Erlenmeyer flasks and all sorts of science-y whatnots, and, because he’s a chemistry teacher, you assume that he’s conducting some kind of experiment, but — surprise! — he’s just making coffee! Ha ha, ’cause see, you can do it using a lot of the same equipment!

Or you could have Flutesnoot making coffee with an ordinary coffee-maker, and it would only serve as evidence that Mr. Weatherbee, who no doubt has an assistant to make his coffee for him, is an out-of-touch buffoon. Ha! Buffoon!

Or you could, you know, have all the relevant action obscured by the body of one your characters. Then it won’t make any damn sense at all. Be sure to lavish plenty of attention on the wrinkles around the armpits, though.

9 Chickweed Lane, 5/23/07

OK, so this has quickly gone back from “interesting” to “ever so tiresome,” but I’m glad somebody has finally noted that the ladies of 9 Chickweed Lane, sexy as they may be from the neck down, are a bunch of receding-chinned jawless freaks with monkey faces. If that somebody has to be a unicorn magically dropped into New York, then so be it. It needed to be said.

Mark Trail, 5/23/07

Hey, look, everyone! It’s “Buzzard”! Or, as I like to call him, “Overalled No-Neck Hillbilly Stereotype Stock Character #2”! You might remember ON-NHSSC#2 as the patriarch of the horrifying clan of backwoods petnappers from the winter of 2005-06. He’s wearing a hat now, and his stubble has disappeared, but it’s pretty obviously the same guy. The latter change is probably attributable to his last tangle with Mark, who as we all know can remove facial hair with the raw power of his wrath.

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Zits and Sally Forth, 4/7/07

On Saturday, we reach the logical conclusion of the set-up from earlier this week. This may look like further disaster for the Forths, but all the pieces are actually falling neatly into place: Sally’s mother is left isolated in her hateful splendor to sleep on a futon, Jackie can spend two weeks baby-sitting Hilary, with her permissive lifestyle opening all sorts of new experiences up to her that her hyper-controlling parents would never allow, and Ted and Sally will finally get to take that trip to Paris. Connie and Walt, meanwhile, can just do it like bunnies, God bless ’em.

For Better Or For Worse, 4/7/07

See, now, here’s a mature attitude about marriage, you hedonists. It’s something to be endured and withstood with great suffering, something that will force you to move out of the comforting womb of your parents house no matter how hard to try to stay there, and, of course, something that should not include any yucky sex once you’re managed to produce the required pair of children. I hope you’re sufficiently shamed, Forths and Duncans!

Shoe, 4/7/07

Ha ha, it’s funny because … oh, wait, it’s not funny at all. “She’s actually outside right now, waiting for me to get some food. For the love of God, call the police! She’s insane!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/7/07

“Yes! Rex will engage him in thinly veiled homoerotic banter for days! We’ll have plenty of time to come up with an action plan!”

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Shoe, 3/24/07

A thing that I know I shouldn’t get worked up about and yet do is the presence of animals in comic strips where everyone is an anthropomorphized animal. I mean, Roz’s dog is on four legs and doesn’t have humanoid hands, so I guess he’s supposed to be a non-sentient being, and I suppose its species-ist of me to just lump animals all together in one class, but it creeps me out to see a bird who owns a dog. In a world where everybody’s an animal, a hotel with a “no pets” policy is kind of like a hotel with a “no slaves” policy.

Um, not that I’d be really all in favor of a hotel with a “Yes, we love slavery!” policy or anything.

I’m curious about why exactly Roz is checking into this hotel in the first place, since I don’t think I’ve ever seen her not behind the counter of her greasy-spoon treetop diner. Perhaps she’s gotten tired of shoveling food at ingrates and has burned it down for the insurance money.

Mark Trail, 3/24/07

There’s a lot of weird crap in Mark Trail that I accept without too much mental discomfort — Mark’s unsettling lack of affect, his repeated acts of vigilante justice that go unpunished, the giant animals with word balloons coming out of inappropriate places — but I have a really hard time accepting that Mark suddenly deduced Diver Dan’s entire nefarious scheme from a single tiny screw hook, mostly because Mark has shown repeatedly that he doesn’t have the brainpower that God gave a bowling ball. Cherry, meanwhile, seems kind of horrified by the very thought that Dan might still be alive. “HE’S DEAD, YOU HEAR ME? DEAD! I WANT HIM TO STAY DEAD! IF I SEE HIM ALIVE, I WILL DROWN HIM AGAIN!”

The Lockhorns, 3/24/07

I know the central schtick of the Lockhorns is that the title characters are intolerably cruel to one another by turns, but for some reason Leroy’s smugness and Loretta’s downcast expression are especially poignant to me today. Loretta’s unisex getup may not be as sexy as what the lady in the red dress has on, but at least she’s not wearing those crippling shoes. Mr. Cardigan-Turtleneck Combo is about to find that the gal he’s been chatting up is going to fall into his lap, literally.