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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Get Fuzzy, 2/10/05

Not to horn in on the territory of the excellent Comics I Don’t Understand, but, well, I don’t understand Rob’s statement in panel one. “Go down as easy as a Parisian in a penalty box?” The beautiful, currently-on-strike sport of ice hockey is played by many nationalities, but the French are not known for the prowess in the game, since the smoking generally leaves them short of breath. (French Canadians are another story, of course, but they might as well be from Indiana as far as most Parisians are concerned.) Is it supposed to be double entendre, and I just don’t get it? Or is it a double entendre that sounds dirty but doesn’t really mean anything, like “the dreaded rear admiral”? Any help would be much appreciated.

Anyway, despite my bafflement and the strip’s somewhat juvenile subject matter, it still made me laugh, mostly at the phrase “Prepare to lose that particular 25 cents, my friend.” Ah, when home brewers boast, only to be felled by their own hubris.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/8/05

In my very first critique of Rex Morgan, M.D., I expressed my admiration for the dramatic “camera angles” that the strip loves so much, but there’s such a thing as going too far. The King Features marketing site claims that the strip’s goal is to “heighten the awareness of readers about the importance of modern medicine,” so maybe panel two is supposed to show us what it feels like be an ear, nose, and throat specialist.

There’s a lot of pointing going on this strip, too. I like the way Rex’s finger is sort of protruding from nowhere in the second panel. You just keep that digit away from those nostrils, doctor.

And yes, don’t think I’m missing all the innuendo, either. “I know what you’re up to! You’re going to … try to find more bones!” God, I hope their house turns out to be built on an ancient Indian burial ground, so that some evil spirits will rise up to vent their wrath upon the living, putting an end to this inane banter in the process.