Comment of the Week

I eat again at the so-called Soul Food place, and yet again I fail to consume a soul. Am I misinterpreting the signs, or is this place lying to me? The owner pries into my writing. I tell him only truth, and he seems troubled. Perhaps his soul is troubled. I could calm it. I could devour it. His partner is nowhere to be seen. The restaurant is empty. Today I will eat soul food.

Voshkod

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Shoe, 5/16/06

Do you think that if you just drew all the characters in your comic as birds, day after day after day, you’d eventually forget that they were birds? Do you think that eventually you’d get so bird-blind that you’d think it was perfectly all right to go with a joke that conjures up the horrific image of birds gleefully pecking at the fried carcasses of other birds in a world where cannibalism isn’t just accepted, but celebrated by symbolics acts of the state legislature?

Because it’s not all right. Do you hear me? It’s just not.

Curtis, 5/16/06

Exactly how old are Curtis and his school buddies supposed to be? I always had them pegged as middle schoolers. I figure Curtis is 12, and Derek and “Onion” are maybe 13 or 14. Thus, my immediate reaction to this strip wasn’t “Derek and ‘Onion’ stole a car” but “Derek and ‘Onion’ can drive?” Maybe it’s just me.

I’m convinced that the quote marks around “Onion” are actually part of the gentleman’s legal name, so he doesn’t have to fear the wrath of Finger Quotin’ Margo. Others aren’t so lucky.

Wizard of Id, 5/16/06

Oh, Mrs. of Id, I wish you hadn’t gone and done that. Now she’ll … I mean, I try to stop her but she … oh dear …

She just feels very strongly about it, you see.

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Peanuts, reprinted 5/15/06

As strongly as I oppose reruns and zombie comics squatting on the ever-shrinking comics pages, I must shamefully admit that I still like seeing Peanuts there — particularly now that the reruns have looped back to the strips from the 1950s. Not only are these strips sharper, meaner, and funnier, but the strip’s overall timeless quality makes it all the more jarring when a passing fad — college students cramming themselves by the dozen into phone booths, say — suddenly pops up to remind you that you’re seeing an artifact that’s more than a half century old. I really love the bizarre wreath of feet surrounding Charlie Brown’s face in this strip. And though he’s usually portrayed as the ultimate loser, in this particularly instance he’s come out on top: he’s the only participant in this stunt getting any fresh air.

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Ah, a good trip up to the Big Apple this weekend! Among other momentous events, the dynamic teams behind the Comics Curmudgeon and Drink At Work finally met in the flesh. See the photos at the Drink At Work photo blog.

Mrs. C. and I also met up live and in person with Wendy McClure, responsible for that site making fun of those hilariously horrible 1970s recipe cards that you’ve probably seen, which is now available in expanded book form.

At no point in the weekend did a bit of Denglish result in anybody suddenly vibrating violently and emitting a creepy, mechanical laugh like an old-timey boardwalk mechanical fortune teller in some forgettable ’80s body-swapping comedy.

More Monday comics to come in a bit, but I wanted to point out some of Sunday’s more amorous features:

Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/14/06

Rex and June have joined Michael and Deanna in the “our sick kid’s asleep, let’s screw” club.

Mark Trail, 5/14/06

Mark Trail, meanwhile, gets his sick thrills from watching birds go at it. Does this so-called “naturalist” have no shame?