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Mark Trail, 11/10/04

Mark already has two women in pink polo shirts hot for him — so why not add a third? He hasn’t even been there for 10 minutes and he’s already hearing about how busy Birdie’s husband is with his work … leaving Birdie lonely … so lonely … are you sure I can’t get you more … tea? I’m sure we’ve all seen enough adult entertainment to know where this is going.

In the next day’s strip, we learn that Birdie’s husband’s name is Barracuda. No, really, Barracuda. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. I’m not sure how that affects the Mark Trail-as-porno concept I’ve got going on here. I’m just putting it out there. Barracuda.

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Ziggy, 11/9/04

OK, so, no matter what you may think of the ultimate justification of any particular war, I think we can all agree that experiencing a war is no fun. So can we please have a moratorium on comics jokes derived from war lingo? It’s a little alarming that a phrase that entered the popular jargon when it described firing a cruise missile into a city in an unsuccessful attempt to kill a dictator is here used to denote a bird pooping on Ziggy’s bald head. It’s a serious matter, so let’s lay off the ha-ha war talk, shall we?

Well, except when my dad calls farting in bed “gassing your own people.” That’s still pretty funny. Heh.

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The moment I’ve been dreading is here. In today’s Baltimore Sun was an announcement that the comics section will soon be getting an “extreme makeover.” Accompanying the article was a ballot in which readers were asked to choose their ten favorite current comics. This is clearly an attempt to force a Sophie’s Choice-style dilemma on loyal comics readers before the powers that be down on Calvert Street decide to impose Marvin or Baby Blues or some such on us, or, even worse, cut the comics section in half.

Now, in my expert opinion, it’s the soap opera strips — my precious, precious soap opera strips — that are in biggest danger of elimination, because, despite my best efforts to impress the depth of their horrible hilarity onto the uncomprehending minds of the populace at large, most of those minds remain uncomprehending. So, this is the moment where we find out if IRTCSYDHT has the power to unleash an army of rabid followers out onto the world. Here’s what I want you to do:

1. Go to the Sun’s comics ballot page (I’ll put a link at the end of this post).
2. Vote for Apartment 3-G, Mark Trail, Mary Worth, The Phantom, Prince Valiant, and Rex Morgan, M.D. (along with four others of your choice; I suggest you include the Lockhorns).
3. If you happen to live in the Baltimore area and have a copy of today’s Sun, cut out the actual physical paper ballot from the paper and send it through the actual physical mail (not forgetting the actual physical stamp).

That link for the voting is http://www.baltimoresun.com/comicssurvey. I have no qualms about this electronic ballot stuffing. After the presidential election, I now know that such desperate measures are necessary to preserve all that’s good about our way of life. Of course, if blog rants actually affected voting patterns, then the presidential election might have turned out differently.

Update: While I was in the middle of writing this post, ever-faithful reader Sue Trowbridge indicated in a comment on a previous post that she had already followed these steps unprompted by me, winning her the first-ever IRTCSYDHT Golden Tommy award. If there’s anyone out there with the skills, equipment, and free time to craft a trophy shaped like everyone’s favorite Mary Worth-based meth dealer, we could give this entirely notional award some physical substance. Also, I should say hello to the many, many of you who have arrived here from Jimtreacher.com.