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Popeye, 6/4/06

So as I have mentioned, I’ve been reading Popeye lately. The daily comic is pretty bizarre, though admittedly no more bizarre than any other iteration of the whole Popeye mythos, if you think about it. Anyway, one of the things in the Popeye comic that’s new to me is the presence of Popeye’s parents. Popeye’s father (or “Pappy”) is blatantly just Popeye with a beard; more disturbing is the fact that Popeye’s mother is blatantly just Popeye in drag. And not very convincing drag at that. Don’t their corncob pipes knock into each other when they make out?

Mark Trail, 6/4/06

We all knew that last Sunday’s Mark Trail totally awesome crab installment would be hard to live up to, but it looks like everybody’s favorite naturalist didn’t even bother trying, serving up an extra-lame installment of licorice, for Christ’s sake. Not even the vague possibility that Mark might accidentally spook the bear in the bottom left panel and get mauled perks this thing up. However, faithful reader Dave Horlick writes to point out the hilarious message at bottom right: “More information on licorice can be found on the Internet”. You know, the Internet. In general. Somewhere. Personally, I think messages like this should appear on all comics. (Apartment 3-G: “More information on proper use of quotation marks can be found on the Internet.” The Phantom: “More information on fetish gear can be found on the Internet.”)

After a few minutes of staring at this message in dumb fascination, though, I realized something very important about it: unlike the rest of the text in this comic, it’s not in Jack Elrod’s handwriting. I think it’s pretty clear that ol’ Jack orignally wrote something there that the syndicate didn’t want you to see. My theory is that the text box contained instructions on using licorice to get high. Or maybe a shout-out to Elrod’s homies in prison.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/3/06

“That’s right, Rex, we’re going to need more tests! Now, if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’m going to stick this water bottle up my nose!”

Seriously, though, Rex Morgan and nostrils: what up, yo?

For Better Or For Worse, 6/4/06

That’s it, we want to draw in closer on her face … really bring home her homesickness and torn feelings … let her keep typing and get closer … closer … YEAAGGGH! TOO CLOSE! HORRIFYING MAKE-UP JOB VISIBLE! ABORT! ABORT!

Seriously, I didn’t know that they even had glamor shot studios (or, I guess, “glamour shot studios”) in Mtigwaki.

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For Better Or For Worse, 6/2/06

So after my spittle spewing rant on Liz’s dumbness earlier this week, I’ve stepped back from the brink a bit when it comes to FBOFW. Yes, I think she’s making a choice that’s both hurtful to lots of people in her new home and deeply lame, personal-growth-wise, but you know, people do that sort of thing in real life all the time. What I’m coming to appreciate is the fact that she’s not being sheltered in the narrative from the anger that her decision is causing. It would have been simple to have the Wise Indians of Mtigwaki™ tell Liz that they know her heart is in the south and that you have go where the Great Spirit wants you to go and that one’s family in the most important thing in the whole universe and we all live near our families and so you should too and blah blah blah. Instead, they’re all really pissed at her, as yet another person who’s come to be valuable in their community leaves lets them down and packs up for the Big Smoke. It seems almost impossible that there won’t be some hugging and learning before Liz takes off for good, but it’s nice to see some folks who aren’t two-dimensional villains angry at a Patterson for once.

On the other hand, the pickle jar metaphor troubles me. “If only we could twist off his head and pluck out his emotions! But all we’d really be able to see are guts and gross stuff. Believe me, I tried.” Also, confidential to Ted Forth: Native Canadians ladies are tougher than you. But I suppose that’s not a surprise.

Apartment 3-G, 6/2/06

HOLY CRAP! BEATNIKS! BEATNIKS! BEATNIKS!

Er. Ahem. At least one beatnik, anyway. But you know they travel in packs. This is gonna be so cool. Beatnik! Beatnik in a vest. That’s, like, sick, man.