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Ack! I know, I’ve been terribly remiss on a number of metapost fronts, not least of which is the SELF-CLUBBING TYLER CONTEST! I’m gonna get all of those pics up this weekend at some point, I promise, and let you all hash out the merits of the entrants before I make my decision next week. But till then, here’s another few metaposty things.

First off! The following TDIET passed by on Saturday unremarked:

But! Did you know that “Sarah Culp” is really faithful Comics Curmudgeon reader Propaniac? It’s true! Due to scheduling mix-ups at the syndicate, she actually missed her moment of glory on the day of publishing, but thanks to the Internet, it’ll be here forever for all to enjoy. Sarah says: “I sent the idea in mid-November, when I actually was sitting around my house waiting for a desperately important call about a job interview, and the phone just wasn’t ringing at all and it was driving me insane and it struck me that there might be a little bit of irony in the situation, and a little bit of irony is what TDIET is all about, right?” (She did end up getting the phone call — and the job — eventually.)

Several commentors have noted that their TDIET submissions have been accepted; be sure to let me know when yours will run so I can feature it here!

Now, on to merch! Even since last week, I’ve had this charming bit of banter stuck in my head:

Thankfully, faithful reader extraordinaire willethompson has crafted one of inimitable merch designs out of it:

And he also took the opportunity to cook up another design he’d been contemplating, a tribute to Judge Parker’s dear Abbey:

These fine, fine garments will run you $16 plus 5.50 shipping and handling. Cups are $13 + 5.50 S&H. Shirt/cup combinations are $29 + 6.50 S&H.

Now, remember the deal with these: We need 24 orders of each shirt to do a run, and 36 orders of each mug. It’s a little more convoluted than CafePress, but the product is of higher quality. Orders close on Monday, May 28; if we don’t get enough orders, the shirts and mugs won’t be printed, though we might rework the graphic for use on CafePress. Head over to willethompson’s home page for ordering details!

Finally, speaking of merch, and CafePress, don’t forget that old classics, like the Finger Quotin’ Margo shirt, are still available. In fact, faithful reader MeganKoumori recently acquired one of her very own, and shows of her quotin’ prowess here:

More stuff still available for your purchasing pleasure!

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Gil Thorp, 5/18/07

Gil Thorp continues to be unspeakably filthy. In panel one, Brynna “mishandles” Lisa’s “sinker,” if you know what I mean (and I think you do); as a result of that “collision,” her shoulder is sore the next day. Fortunately, she still has use of her right arm.

Hi and Lois, 5/18/07

Young Chip Flagston, sittin’ in a tree
down-load-ing porn-o-graph-y.

Mary Worth, 5/18/07

Mary loves her pithy little bits of advice, but there has to be some kind of internal house rule that a pearl of wisdom, once used, can never be repeated; that explains why, after 67 years in the meddling business, her sayings have gone from the helpful to the platitudinous to something at odds with everything we know about how time and space work. I don’t care how at peace you are with the past, people: you cannot astrally project yourself back in time and change what happened. Mary Worth is right in that white doctors shouldn’t trouble themselves with charity work in filthy foreign countries, but she’s off-base here.

Slylock Fox, 5/18/07

To me, the look on the dog’s face doesn’t say “lazy” so much as “has lost the will to live.”

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Crankshaft, 5/17/06

For the no doubt depressingly large number of you who are biblically illiterate, the ’Shaft here is deploying a variation of the Judgement of Solomon, as described in 1 Kings 3:16-28. Two women came before King Solomon with a baby, both claiming to be its mother.

Then the king said, “Bring me a sword.” So they brought a sword for the king. He then gave an order: “Cut the living child in two and give half to one and half to the other.” The woman whose son was alive was filled with compassion for her son and said to the king, “Please, my lord, give her the living baby! Don’t kill him!” But the other said, “Neither I nor you shall have him. Cut him in two!” Then the king gave his ruling: “Give the living baby to the first woman. Do not kill him; she is his mother.”

Interestingly, many historians see this episode, which came early in Solomon’s reign, as being a metaphor and veiled warning to his enemies. Solomon’s father was King David, who had usurped the throne from King Saul; now that David was dead, Saul’s family felt that they should rule, not Solomon. In the parable, the baby is the Kingdom of Israel, and Solomon is the false mother: he’s willing to tear the kingdom apart with civil war if his rule is challenged, so if you love the country, you should keep your mouth shut about who the legitimate ruler is.

Using this interpretation, Crankshaft clearly believes that he’s the king of everything (the strip has his name on it, after all) and that the comics belong rightfully to him. He’ll probably tear that comic book in half in front of everyone else’s horrified eyes, then take the collection home and let it decay in his moldy basement, just to be a dick. He’s like a Solomon of spite.

Mark Trail, 5/17/07

I know I keep coming back to Mark Trail this week, but I don’t know how you can expect me not to fall head-over-heels in love with this awesomely hilarious conversation. I don’t know what makes me happier: the image evoked in the first panel of Commissioner Tweedledumb and Commissioner Tweedleverydumb wearing ski masks and carrying huge bags of birdseed, flinging handfuls of the stuff around as they run around on the tarmac one step ahead of enraged TSA agents, or the description in the third panel of a hunting guide who would do “just about anything for enough money” — up to and including, one hopes, putting on a bird suit and getting run over by a Boeing 717.

Apartment 3-G, 5/17/07

Wait, are we about to find out that It Was All A Dream, the lamest, dumbest, clichéest cliché in the history of modern narrative? I think I liked it better when it didn’t make any sense.