Crock and Non Sequitur: Why would he like living in jail?

There are two kinds of prison jokes:

1. Prisoners practically have it better than the rest of us!
2. Anal rape!

No, these are not contradictory at all.

*Non Sequitur from 12-31-10

Crock: Christmas is over.

Not all comics contain jokes. Some comics are meant to impart some other sort of meaning besides humor. Sadly, I'm pretty sure this comic was meant to contain a joke.

Crock: Who's next on our raid-and-pillage list?

Is this a "We just raped your mother" joke? I think it might be. And it's making me uncomfortable.

But then, Crock always makes me uncomfortable.

Crock: My marriage is losing its romance, Sage.

This comic is hilarious because the fat woman's marriage is failing because she's fat. This comic is also hilarious because the fat woman is fat.

Crock: I feel out of touch with my men.

Someone has to do something about Crock. And it seems to me that the perfect thing to do is to strike the pose of a baptist grandmother and write angry letters to countless newspapers and websites complaining about this character that quite clearly has testicles hanging from his face. The innocence of our children depends upon us!

Crock: My first date with Betty White.

The Betty White meme is officially dead. I'm sorry. It was fun while it lasted. And I happen to love Betty White. I watched her in Mary Tyler Moore and some in The Golden Girls and in seemingly countless other things. And now she's really old and adorable and was on Saturday Night Live and has a new sitcom on TV Land and it's all great, but I'm sorry, it's over. Crock just made a joke about it. Nothing can recover from that.

Crock: The plumber finally fixed my dripping faucet.

Given how much time it must have taken to come up with a joke this original,* we should probably just cut the cartoonist a bit of slack on the boring drawing. It's not like comics is a visual medium or anything.

*I'd say at least five minutes.

Crock: I haven't had a hot meal in months.

Evidently attempting to get in on the recent vampire craze, Crock has decided to introduce blood-sucking vultures. It may seem odd to you, but we'll just see who's laughing when teenage girls and middle-aged housewives everywhere start flocking to Borders to purchase the latest Crock merchandise, assuming the sad soul behind Crock has thought far enough ahead to have actually made up some Crock merchandise.

Crock: O wise sage, what is the true meaning of life?

Speaking of cruel, eternal hells, oh look, it's Crock.

This comic is hilarious because Figowitz's life is pointless and miserable, and the sweet release of death that he no doubt longs for will never, ever come.

Crock: Bullets?

Ha ha! Adultery and domestic violence! It never gets old!

Crock: Someone whould tell the cook spaghetti swells when you cook it.

As anyone familiar with the comics section knows, Crock is not a very good comic strip. But I have to admit to laughing at today's installment. Exploding spaghetti is always funny, and the cracking whip is a nicely absurd touch.

Crock: What did you give him?

I've long held that Crock is not a real comic strip. It is, instead, a synthetic comic strip-like product. While I'm not a huge fan of something like Frank and Ernest or Herb and Jamaal, both of those comics read like actual comics. They're hackish, sure, but they're hackish in recognizable ways. They always have a set-up and they always have a punchline. Crock, on the other hand, has neither. It instead just sort of meanders from panel to panel in a way that seeks to imitate what real comic strips look like. While Frank and Ernest is low-grade cheddar cheese, Crock is like a tub of processed cheese-flavored goo.

Given all that, I'm not going to be too hard on today's Crock. After all, this strip has an actual set-up and an actual punchline. Sure, it's hackish and politically ignorant, but the author really seems to have taken some sort of pride in his work for once. Why, I'm not really sure, but good for him anyway!

Indeed, today's Crock just goes to show that anyone can be an ignorant hack if they're willing to work hard enough. There's a lesson here, I'm sure of it.

Crock: Victoria's Secret Catalogs

If I'm understanding the joke here, it's that these men are obviously seeing an hallucination and are therefore going to die horribly. Ha ha! It's irony!

But look: You're a dude walking through an endless desert. You're starving and you're dying of thirst. What are you going to imagine in your oasis? Probably food and water. But let's say you're a sex addict. Well then, you might imagine some attractive and willing young ladies as well. Are you likely, however, to imagine a magazine full of underwear advertisements? Is your imagination that pathetic? Or are you just the kind of pervert who actually prefers his women clothed and in tiny, two-dimensional form?