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Crock, 9/11/12

Wow, congratulations, Crock, for creating the Platonic ideal of an “angry old person rages against something he doesn’t understand at any level” comic strip! Shall we enumerate the ways in which the word-sequences in panel one fail to map onto the world as we understand it? Let’s start with “‘Virtual reality’ is the thing of the future,” which should really be “‘Virtual reality’ is the thing of the mid ’90s,” since that was the heyday of term (everyone knows that “augmented reality” is the new hotness). Then we’ll move on to “TV game,” which is inherently funny, and which is part of “everyone needs a TV game with it,” which I guess is an awkward way of saying “Everyone needs a video game that includes virtual reality features”? Or maybe it just means “Everyone needs a TV game with ‘virtual reality’, which I have no idea what that is,” which seems more likely. “How many do you want?” probably is supposed to mean “How many of the aforementioned TV games do you want” but I prefer to interpret it as “How many virtual realities do you want, here, look at these small brown boxes, each contains a virtual reality.” Finally, Crock’s smug “Now that’s virtual reality” is I guess supposed to be a triumphant zinger that represents a victory over the kids today with their TV games and their virtual reality, with the only downside being that it makes no sense to speak of. Kudos to you, Crock! Truly, this is a stunning triumph of out-of-touchness!

Gil Thorp, 9/11/12

Kudos also go to everyone who predicted that Irish soccer star Terry O’Irishperson (did you know that in non-America places they call soccer “football”???) would end up kicking for the Mudlark football team, which means kudos go to everyone because this was a painfully obvious development. I do have high hopes for Terry’s “I feel like a knight!” line in panel three, as perhaps his “armor” will make him prone to Don Quixote-style fits of nostalgic insanity. Perhaps he’ll use the annual football bonfire as an opportunity to burn some Cathar heretics at the stake!

Apartment 3-G, 9/11/12

Haha, there’s nothing better than reminding your boss that you’re using a little light office remodeling as an excuse to take an extra week’s worth of paid vacation! Presumably Margo is suddenly ten feet away from her dining companions in panel two because she’s about to unleash some killing death-rays of rage on them.

Six Chix, 9/11/12

If, like me, you’ve always been a little unsettled by whatever sexual implications lurk beneath the whole metaphorical “kiss a frog to turn him into a prince” story, you’ll find today’s Six Chix particularly disturbing.

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Hi and Lois, 9/10/12

I am confused and terrified by the inky blackness out of which the Flagstons’ angry, violent word balloons emerge in panel one. I imagine that, as each meal commences, a designated family member turns off the light, so that the savage battle for conversational supremacy takes place in darkness, which increases the degree of difficulty and bitterness. Or is it meant to represent spiritual darkness? As the family turns on each other for the most petty and pointless of reasons, are to understand that their hatred is so toxic that it has literally blotted out the sun?

Mark Trail, 9/10/12

“Whoa whoa whoa, kid, I didn’t hear anyone say anything like ‘We can take him with us, or shoot him and the adorable puppy now.’ Did you hear anyone saying anything about shooting the dog? What I’m trying to say is that it’s time to hitch the Sassy wagon to a new star. Good luck with that whole getting shot thing!”

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Panel from Slylock Fox, 9/9/12

You know, I guess it’s OK for Slylock Fox to go around imposing arbitrary, unchecked justice when he’s putting a stop to actual crimes or whatever. But now it appears that he’s just wandering the land looking for opportunities to be a dick by preventing a little intra-posse tomfoolery. And why is he even assuming that Reeky’s friends are being scammed? Isn’t it possible that they know full well that Reeky means to do 1,000 pushups over a series of days or weeks, but, well, maybe they just want Reeky to do some exercise once in a while, ever think of that? Maybe they want him to improve his health, and that’s worth $10 to them, because Reeky’s their friend. God, Slylock, keep your snout out of other people’s business!

I also dispute that Reeky’s pals are in any way “punks.” Neither of them seem to be cultivating any kind of aesthetic that seeks to shock or undermine bourgeois values in the slightest! Reeky’s pink hair might qualify, maybe, but today that’s pretty tame.

Six Chix, 9/9/12

The look of shock and horror on this poor dog’s face is amazing. “Wait, they’re … they’re alive, and they’re inside of me? And they’re coming out where? And I’m expected to feed them how? Oh god oh god oh god”