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Shoe, 2/23/07

To me, the tropes in Shoe range from the mildly amusing (“the Perfesser has trouble with deadlines”) to the bland (“Skyler doesn’t know the answer to a test question, so he comes up with an ‘amusing’ response”) to the irksome (“Shoe is hounded by his ex-wives for money”). However, there are few I find more more outright distasteful than “the obese older male birds hit on ‘sexy’ fortysomething birds who look like they have been used hard by life.” And few strips in that genre have been as unpleasant as today’s, in which the Perfesser drunkenly attempts to initiate sexual relationship with a barfly, only to be repulsed to discover that she’s even more intoxicated than he is. So, um, congratulations, Shoe, on bringing me to this new level of ick. Don’t feel any obligation to top yourself in the future or anything.

Apartment 3-G, 2/23/07

So the Apartment 3-G creative team had done a decent job depicting Albert Pinkham Ryder’s face, though his ghost is dressed rather nattily for someone who spent the latter part of his live a shut-in. But considering that most of Ryder’s work consisted of dark, moody landscapes that presaged modernism, I question whether he would go through the trouble of coming back from the dead just to help Lu Ann paint her bright, faux-Victorian botanical still lives on white backgrounds. I suppose he doesn’t really get to pick the tastes of the artists he inhabits. Being dead must be even worse than I thought.

Kudzu, 2/23/07

Most of the time, Kudzu’s hateful “modern bible translation” bits involve slang that’s at least five years out of date, which allows me to feel young and scornful. But I had to goggle at today’s strip for a good five minutes before I figured out that “friend” as a verb is probably supposed to mean “to add as a friend on MySpace or Facebook or whatever those social networking hoo-hah sites are that I’m too old and cranky to use.” Sussing out the meaning was made even more difficult because the phrases in the Lord’s Prayer it replaces — “trespasses” and “trespass against” in the King James, “sins” and “sin against” in more modern translations — don’t correspond, like, at all. It’s just an attempt at slapping in a random neologism in place of a word that may be vaguely suitable for replacement because in the King James translation it’s kind of archaic and confusing. So, in conclusion, I hate it, and it should die.

Funky Winkerbean, 2/23/07

I usually look away when Funky Winkerbean hits its high points of horror, but I have to ask: does anyone else think that the black blob between Wally’s outstretched arms in panel three that doesn’t seem to be attached to anything is his head? Take that, Mrs. Wally! You think it’s so damn tough going through life with one arm? How about going through life with zero heads, huh? Game, set, and match!

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Ziggy, 2/22/07

Oh, man! Zing! Who else but Ziggy would dare to make this sort of cutting, politically-charged joke about the Savings and Loan scandal? And only twenty years after the last of the fallout ended, too! Pow! Preach on, brother! Somewhere, Neil Bush’s ears are burning! And this time, it’s not something he caught from a Thai prostitute.

Mark Trail, 2/22/07

“That’s right! Mark will be none the wiser about the fact that I peed in his lake! I’ll be sipping piña coladas on a weirdly nonspecific tropical island before you know it!”

Seriously, I don’t know what’s more stilted and artificial: that Dan is narrating his evil plotting aloud, or that Dan is narrating his evil plotting aloud in a weird, circumlocutory way that preserves suspense about what exactly his evil plot is. On the other hand, maybe the whole point of this exercise has been to get that sexy second panel drawing of him shirtless, dripping wet, and perfectly coifed out there. If so, MISSION ACCOMPLISHED, baby.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/22/07

“Yes, let’s go take a look … at my vagina!

OK, I think I’ve gone about as far with this as I can.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/21/07

Oh, Rex Morgan, M.D., you’re working overtime to get back into my heart, and … heck, I’m gonna let ya. A couple more weeks of this and we could get to the level of Rex and Troy’s Big Gay Golf Game. Sure, if you wanted to have some kid clean your garage at 8 o’clock at night or so, you’d tell him to “go relax” while you “finish up” what you’re doing. “Yes, Mrs. Morgan, I’m happy that I’m going to ‘clean’ your ‘garage.’ You know, with my ‘tongue.’ We are talking about oral sex here, right? I mean, just checking.”

Niki actually looks a lot more like a slightly younger Rex in panel two and a lot less like the thirteen-year-old boy that I thought he was supposed to be. If there’s any shred of decency left in this world, we may be about to discover that this whole thing is some sort of elaborate role play that the Morgans are doing in a desperate attempt to keep their marriage fresh.

Pluggers, 2/21/07

THERE! YOU SEE? YOU SEE? PLUGGERS SMELL TERRIBLE! ROLLY CHURCH OF CRETE, NEBRASKA, SAID IT, NOT ME!