Next Up: Fear Factor

Hey, it's Pyschiatrist John again! Accompanying him is the same "26K Marathon" joke the artist used 10 days ago. Apparently John is a fitness nut obsessed with charity runs, if these two panels are indicative of a larger pattern. Or the artist is running out of material. Or she believes that repeating something often enough has the alchemical ability to transform the un-funny into the funny. Take your pick.

The joke here, such as it is, revolves around obese middle-age men confusing a marathon with a buffet or a pot luck. Which qualifies as one of the least common of life's many misunderstandings.

By extension, we're supposed to wonder how far they are willing to go for free stuff. They donate blood for the free cookies and juice. They are willing to attend a lecture on accumulating wealth coupled with a free dinner. They are willing to sit through a seminar on the value of time-shares because the rest of the weekend can be spent at a luxury resort. They appear on Fear Factor.

Of course, we also have Burl, the savvy negotiator. Burl is immediately willing to capitulate on the free refreshments because all he really cares about is getting something, anything. So desperate to find hidden value that he's willing put himself through 26K of agony as long as he gets reserved seating at a picnic table.

Once his fat ass is planted on the picnic table, he will swell with pride at having gamed the system and gotten something for nothing. He won't leave that picnic table of course, not until the ambulance arrives, but that's not the point.

By the way, the trio of obese middle-age men are Burl, Jerry, and neighbor Dale. Dale, (according to The Dinette Set website) "never lets a lull in the conversation go by." Which raises the question: how exactly would a lull in the conversaton be portrayed in a single panel cartoon?

Scribbled about the margins:

• Why, dear God, why am I forced to see Dale's butt crack?

• If you squint really hard you'll notice that the only legible parts of the entry form in Dale's hand (beyond the name of the race) are the words "Age" and "Weight." I'm glad I squinted to read those because, otherwise it may never have occurred to me that Burl, Dale, and Jerry might be too old or fat to run a marathon.

• Is John supposed to be at a sign-up table? If so, it lacks all sense of a 3rd dimension and instead looks like the kind of screen you'd expect at a puppet show, behind which the puppeteer crouches but above which the puppets are visible.

• Burl's shirt and pants are not funny enough to warrant wrenching the poor man's neck off. If you look at Burl in isolation, and then imagine him lying on the ground, you'd assume he'd had his neck broken by a Navy Seal.

• If you are wondering, Lloyd J. Harris is the author of The Book of Garlic which is evidently an encyclopaedic discussion of all things garlic. If you are keeping score, our list of obscure references this week is now up to 3, including the Bell Witch and Matt Helm.