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Slylock Fox, 10/19/09

One of the things I like about Slylock Fox is the wealth of odd details that make it easy and fun to build the sort of counternarratives that are more or less my stock in trade. For instance, this may seem like just another bit of campground petty theft, but think about it for a minute: why, exactly, is this multi-species collection of critters out in the middle of the blasted wilderness with all their money, staying in a series of makeshift tents, not dressed properly for the weather? My guess: they were called out to this desolate spot by charismatic cult leader Reeky Rat, who promised that they would be taken up to the Great Sky City by the emissary of the Heavenly Aeon in a crystal Cloud-Ship, for which they would have to buy a ticket. If Reeky’s nephew Rodney had merely claimed to be collecting fares for the Sky-Journey, Slylock’s fancy ratiocination would be useless, as his mundane logic can tell you nothing about such higher matters.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/19/09

Hey, remember like a kajillion years ago when there was this Rex Morgan storyline where Pete the Chauffeur was supposed to be good, and then he turned out to be bad, because, I don’t know, it moved the plot along? Well, I’m sort of hoping that’s what’s about to happen here, because lord knows this is a plot that I very much want moved along. Tim’s line in the second panel is probably supposed to be a clumsy pass of the “If you were my wife, I’d love you so much that I’d hire ninjas to follow you everywhere! You’d never have a moment out of my control!” variety, but it would be more exciting if it were leading into “Pete ought to keep better track of you … because now he’ll have to pay a hefty ransom if he ever wants to see you alive again! MOO HA HA HA!”

Barring that, maybe it will be the first thing and Becka and Tim will just fall into an adulterous affair and forget all about his demented mother, who will settle into a wacky sitcom-style lifestyle with the golf pro and the punk rocker. “Hey, old man, I know you’re senile, but could you at least remember to light a match after you stink up the bathroom? This trailer isn’t that big!” “Are you ready for your golf lesson?” “I’m hungry! When are you going to feed us?” [CANNED LAUGHTER]

Lockhorns, 10/19/09

Some of the most unsettling Lockhorns installments are those where the title couple’s trademarked ennui-deadened hate is turned outward, rather than at each other. What, exactly, are Leroy and Loretta doing here? Clicking from link to link, noting the lies and falsehoods, both wearing a heavy-lidded expression that shows that they expected no better from this fallen world? That sad thing is that this may be the most romantic Lockhorns ever, if we accept “sharing an activity” as falling loosely into the “romance” category.

Marvin, 10/19/09

Ha ha, Marvin, wait until you find out that Ms. Landers will no longer be permitting you to spend the day sitting in your own putrefying feces! “What, we can’t shit in our pants anymore? Does she think this is Buckingham Palace or something?”

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Mark Trail, 10/18/09

Here’s another entry for your “Mark Trail: social misfit or sociopath?” file. It’s true that the ways of nature are not that of man, etc., but Mark seems a little too pleased to explain to us the gruesome nature of the Shrike’s feeding methods, and provides an extra-large panel to show its grisly trophy room of victims. We’re supposed to believe that this tiny feathered monster is too weak to hold onto a bug and chew at the same time, but still has the strength to impale that possibly still breathing mouse onto some nearby branch? Killing is apparently only the beginning of its monstrous joys.

Note that in the final panel, Mark claims to know the name that the northern shrike’s terrified prey use for their tormentor. How does he know what goes on in these woodland creatures’ minds? Do his advanced woodsman techniques extend to inter-species telepathy? Does he hear their cries for mercy, and smile?

Hi and Lois, 10/18/09

The most puzzling and amusing aspect of this cartoon is Ditto’s look of numb horror in the final panel. Everyone else has endured Dot’s shrill diatribe and discovered that removing their butts from the couch and stepping out onto the sidewalk actually has some positive aspects. But Ditto apparently has wholly merged with exuburbia and finds this “walking” notion abhorrent. “Ugh, my legs … carrying my torso from place to place … no in-car DVD player providing entertainment during my journey? Why, God, why?”

Crock, 10/18/09

As always, it’s best to ignore the ostensible humor content of Crock, but this cartoon does cause one to wonder why (and how) Maggot has come to be standing in a circular hole several feet deep and an inch or so wider in diameter than his waist. Is Maggot actually some sort of human-prairie dog hybrid? It would explain his odd body shape, and his hairiness.

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 10/18/09

Apartment 3-G sundays are generally just boring recaps of the previous week’s action, but you do sometimes get gems like this. Ha ha, Bobbie is enraged because she can’t get her pills! @!!*# it, she wants some mother@!!*#ing pills, you @!!*#faces!

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Beetle Bailey, 10/17/09

In the early days of this blog, I poured scorn on Sally Forth for accepting product placement money from progressive rock legends Rush. In the subsequent years, however, as the newspaper business has imploded and the comics industry upon which I have come to rely has been brought ever closer to extinction, I’ve rethought my position on nontraditional revenue-generating strategies. For instance, Beetle Bailey is both a hilarious comic that will provide a much-needed laugh over your morning coffee and a brand that is highly trusted by the coveted 55-to-80 demographic. So, when Sarge admits that his recurrent incontinence causes him to shun social situations or long trips into unfamiliar territories, that would have been a great time to open up a conversation with readers about Detrol, or Lyrinel XL, or, you know, whoever’s willing to pay more. Not only would this have been both lucrative for the holders of the intellectual property rights pertaining to Beetle Bailey and educational for consumers, it also would have replaced a baffling and distasteful punchline about Otto carrying his urine-soaked fire hydrant around with him.

Mark Trail, 10/17/09

Poachy McSideburns is proving himself the master of the at once obvious and profound question about Mark Trail. “How did he stay alive?” touched on matters both biological and philosophical; today’s “Is he a wild-life man?” gets right to the paradox at the heart of this strip. Mark is clean-cut, straight-arrow, not a hair out of place; yet he is more in tune with the natural world than he is with the experiences of those of us living in so-called “civilization.” Is he “man,” or is he “wild-life”? How does he reconcile these two different parts of his essence? We should all offer thanks to our yellow-shirted philosopher of the swamp, before he’s punched into submission.