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Mark Trail, 11/1/05

You may have noticed that Mark Trail dropped off my radar in late August. That’s because, despite a set-up that promised grim power struggles, attempted murder, and mouth-foaming insanity, nothing has happened of any interest for weeks and week and oh god oh god no no no no. Boyd was going to have rabies … except then he didn’t … but then he did … but then he got back to a hospital in time. Scott and Lynn were going to try to murder him … but then they didn’t, except for this one really half-assed attempt on Lynn’s part. After many sitcom-level almost-revelations, at least we actually found out that Scott was destined to guide BoydCo into the glorious future of … whatever … it is … that … it does. And today we learn that Lynn’s mighty slap on Scott’s face a few days ago precipitated the end of their scheming, murderous union. Hopefully a future strip will show Scott stepping over Lynn in the gutter as he strides with his new, non-sociopathic wife into a fancy country club.

There’s only one thing standing in the way of that glorious vision: Scott’s swung so far from bad to good that he’s going to spill the beans on his previous designs. This, it seems to me, is a Bad Idea. There’s two ways that this could go: either the two gentlemen could have a hearty, manly laugh about that whole attempted-murder thing, which will just reinforce Mark Trail’s camp value at the expense of any other value of any kind; or the confession could trigger Boyd’s latent rabies, and he’s just gonna start biting the hell out of stuff. Either way, it’s all good with me.

Speaking of quick and laughable resolutions:

Spider-Man, 11/1/05

Is every potentially hazardous encounter between Spidey and this dastardly doctor going to be resolved by dumb luck? Has Peter Parker been endowed with the relative deus ex machina-inducing ability of a spider? Is Spider-Man going to come perilously close to exposing himself in every strip from now on? Keep tuning in to find out!

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If you’ve forgotten — and if my anemic sales are any indication, it appears that you have — there are wacky, Brick House-inspired workout clothes available from my CafePress store. Today I received a couple of photos of isometricians in action. First up is faithful reader Mooselet, who will be baffling people Down Under with her new tank top:

I also got this pic from my friend Matt, who is chipping in a little bit of his pathetic grad student salary to support my blogging efforts. Now, I happen to know that Matt is a wiry, spindly fellow — he’s not Brick House scrawny, but, at my wedding when I last saw him, he sure wasn’t as beefy as he appears in this pic. Either this sleeveless T is designed to accentuate the physique, or those isometrics really work!

Both have joined the cavalcade of models in my sidebar ads. Click on their pics at any time to acquire these fine garments or any other classic bit of Comics Curmudgeon gear — the “More Zippers, Mule!” shirt that started the craze, the “Free Hutch” shirt that cried out for justice, or the “Roadside” thong that no one’s had the guts to have their picture taken in yet. Spend your money there today! I command it!

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Beetle Bailey, 10/31/05

Family Circus, 10/31/05

Just in time for Halloween, the comics are full of SCARY SKELETONS! AAAAHHH! AAAHHHH! Actually, I’ve never quite got the handle on why skeletons are supposed to be scary. I mean, I get vampires (blood-drinking, transforming victims into damned undead), zombies (brain-eating, rotting flesh produces foul odor), werewolves (razor-sharp claws, poor self-control), Frankenstein’s monster (product of perversion of the natural order in which man plays at being God, very tall), and such. But skeletons, well … they’re just bones, aren’t they? Sure, if they walked the earth on their own power, it would be … unsettling, but without muscle mass, how much harm could they really do? Mostly they make me visualize an anthropology lecture, which isn’t “scary” so much as “boring.” (I’m leaving aside for the moment here the skeletal grim reaper, who’s scary not because he’s a walking skeleton, but because he has a creepy robe and a boss scythe and can take your soul to the underworld.)

Anyhoo, the Family Circus and Beetle Bailey both seem to realize that the kids today, they’re not afraid of an animated bag of bones like they used to be, so they’ve come up with a harder-hitting twist: visible bones = malnutrition. Little Billy, always on the make, is planning on exploiting concern for his pathetic, wasted state to get more goodies from the bleeding-hearts in his neighborhood. Check out the little smile on Mommy: she knows that she can remind Billy of this moment if he ever goes soft and wants to donate the family’s hard-earned booze money to some little brown children starving in some filthy third-world hellhole.

Beetle Bailey, meanwhile, seems to have forgotten it’s Halloween altogether, but it still manages to convey sheer terror on the part of Sarge. Convinced to head off-base as part of the lamest 48-hour leave in the history of the US military (Museum? Museum? Where are the whores, soldier?), our portly sergeant is brought face to face with the prospect of his own mortality in the form of some of the most poorly-executed dinosaur skeletons I’ve even seen. While the idea of being reduced to a hulking set of bones has clearly shaken Sarge to his very core, at least he’ll now have the strength to resist the relentless, anorexia-inducing body image peer pressure that is the Army’s secret shame.