To keep this assignment a mystery, Rivera does not reveal to us what Diana spots in the photos. But some undercover work is now called for. Whew! This story seems to change every other day. But maybe that’s deliberate.

Let’s review: The initial point of this story was Bill Ellis assigning Mark to investigate rampaging wild around Salt Lake City. Bill went on to clarify that the assignment had to do with limited land resources under threat from growing numbers of invasive and hungry wild horses. Mark worried over moral and practical issues. Yet, it turned out that both Bill and Mark were misinformed.

Arriving on scene, Diana Daggers (Mark’s boss for this assignment) began revealing that the assignment was not investigating rampaging wild horses, but taking on greedy land entrepreneurs like Tad Crass—now head of a land development company—in cahoots with corrupt government agents to remove the mustangs from his properties. Mark was given to understand that his job was investigating corruption and unethical behavior.

Nevertheless, Diana and Mark spent time at a local wild horse rescue ranch to get informed about the plight of these mustangs. Was this to keep Mark misdirected? Who knows!?! Diana sent Mark to interview Tad Crass at his headquarters, but he was quickly chased off the property after things got violent. Mark’s subsequent meeting with Diana led to more revelations: She admitted to misleading Mark about the assignment and the purpose of the interview. Diana’s true mission seems to be to discover why Tad Crass wants wild horses removed from lands near or on his property. We also just learned that Daggers had Mark take photos of Crass’s building to see if something kept there that might explain what was going on.

And that brings us to today’s strip.

So, although the execution of this story might be criticized, the apparent confusion makes sense if the idea of keeping Mark—and us readers—off balance is deliberate. Drama often works better when readers have no more information than the story’s protagonist.

Yesterday’s strip ended with Mark amazingly figuring out that his photos could be useful to help locate something hidden on Crass’s property that might create an unfortunate reaction by the wild horses. Amazing deduction, Mark, considering that nothing on that point had been mentioned before.

But today, Mark acts as if he had not made that discovery at all, but suddenly realized he was being used by Rivera to take the photos for an unknown reason. Which is it, Rivera?

So why even keep Mark in the dark about the purpose of these pictures? And why keep us in the dark about their existence? Rivera chose to not show Mark taking photos, thus missing an opportunity to illustrate a dramatic sequence of panels of Mark working his camera under the unsuspecting eyes of corporate security.

I’m just a simple guy from Virginia, so I hope somebody can explain this to me. First, if Diana needed photos of Tad Crass’s campus, couldn’t she have already captured images with a camera and an extended zoom lens from the main road? Or maybe she could have deployed a drone with a camera to take photos?

Next, what is Mark talking about in panel 4? Is he seriously deficient in understanding that he thinks some photos are going to reveal something that he couldn’t see as he walked to the building? Wait, of course he could miss seeing something! Was security so slipshod that Mark was able to walk all the way around the building taking pictures without being seen or stopped?

Finally, why does Mark think that whatever is being secretly stored at Tad’s campus is being stored outside? It must be a secret nuclear reactor, right? Come to think of it, I recently pointed out what I see as a general incompetence in Mark’s villains. It’s possible that Tad Crass did store it outside, whatever it is.

Hmm, more story padding. I was going to entitle this post “Nothing to see here, people. Move along”, but I noticed we have used variations of that phrase many times in the past. You know, Obi Wan Kenobi liked that phrase as well, now that I think about it. Not sure why I thought about it, though.

So, what’s the point of provoking a fight? Why does Diana need Mark to knock heads? Wouldn’t some sharp investigators do better? I reckon I’m waiting to hear what Diana’s game plan is, as this week has so far just been walking in place.

I wonder why Rivera likes to put these 2-D animal cutouts in the foreground of her strips. Is it some kind of code-speak for “This is all fake”? I dunno, it’s just a thought.

But the meetup at a picnic table reminds me of a similar meetup they shared a while back, during the Zeeba Mussels adventure. Mark was meeting Diana to apologize for leaving her boat after a fight. So here we are again, with Mark ready to apologize for another bad decision.

One thing to be thankful for today is that Rivera is not blasting the “Two Fists o’ Justice!” phrase. It’s hard to not think that she is overdoing it, as some kind of put-down.

By the way, I’ve been intrigued by the hamburger joint in the
strip. It’s kooky enough to have been based on a real roadside joint. Has
anybody seen anything like that? I did a bit of online searching and
didn’t come up with anything definitive.

Poor, deluded Mark. So provoking, yet so clueless. There he sits, a reporter without a story, trying to convince himself that, while he got kicked out of an interview because of his aggressive approach, at least he could save face and fight his way past some rent-a-cops.

Aside from not concentrating on his assignment, Mark can’t keep his memory straight either. On the way to this burger pit, he already talked on the phone with Diana and she gave him a pass on the interview debacle. So there’s no reason for him to be feeling sorry for himself.

A question thus arises, is Rivera deliberately making Mark act forgetful, or is she just not too concerned with story continuity?

Back-seat driver Dept: Could Rivera have written a more concise narration box in panel 1: “Mark dreads meeting with his boss after the interview went sideways.” There are just too many “his”, as is!

The ancient Latin phrase above (it had a legal significance even in the time of Cicero) generally translates as “who benefits?” (my Latin teachers would criticize this casual definition, I’m sure) Anyway, I believe the expression applies here, as Mark discovers that Diana Daggers fully expected the altercation because of who Mark is and because of how Tad acts.

What is the point, then? How does a failed interview and fight benefit anybody? Will Tad Crass swear out a police complaint against Mark? Maybe Diana is using Mark to flush Tad out in the open so he’ll say something that hurts him. Still, has Tad Crass done anything illegal, aside from possibly bribing some government officials to help him relocate mustangs running on his property?  Surely, Diana is not that interested in just rooting out government corruption. Cui bono?

Art Dept. Hey, how about that statue in panel 1? Well, check it out! Why it has highlights on both sides of the body—while no highlights exist elsewhere in the panel—is a mystery. Then again, this comic strip almost always avoids depicting any kind of atmosphere, where every day is almost always warm and bright. In fact, we rarely see anybody or anything even cast shadows! Clearly, atmosphere is not of central importance to Rivera.

Well, that was good fun, reading your votes and comments. I’m glad to see the additional proposals, as well.  But so far, it appears that Rivera is milking this travesty of a confrontation for all that it’s worth.

“And puts his other two feet on the ground!” – how many feet does Mark have? Is he a secret centaur?!

It must be more than two, as Rivera has Mark Trail step on his third foot <ahem!> to ruin another important interview early on. He always seems like an over-excited idealist (or 12-year old), even to the point of breaking the law and fighting with (or fleeing from) law enforcement. Why? Sure, Mark has always had recourse to fistfights in the past, but usually directed against crooks, poachers, and other bad guys. With Rivera, Mark’s environmental activism is hands-on. Is Rivera trying to turn Mark Trail into one of Edward Abby’s Monkey Wrench Gang? That could partially explain Rivera’s treatment of the character and stories. But it is sometimes difficult to see the underlying serious intent, as the overt parody and absurdities overshadow it.

Art Dept. It’s as if Rivera is not even trying, though I think that is incorrect. Still, the art can look haphazard, even deliberately distorted. Those guards in panel 1 apparently grew two extra feet (or Mark shrank). One guard seemed to be levitating in Wednesday’s episode. Further, Mark merely has to wave his hands in panel 3 and two guards go flying, as if Mark was a Wing Chung master like Ip Man, the trainer of Bruce Lee. Are we experiencing Mark’s own idealized view of reality? That could even help explain the weird characters and the often distorted and flattened figures. Unfortunately, there is no context to support that hypothesis.

But let’s don’t be partisan about this. Some of you may recall that there was lots of dislike and snarky comments directed towards James Allen during his tenure, not only for his frequent copy-and-paste artwork, but also for drawn-out and meandering stories (e.g. the bat cave story and the bank robbers/kidnapping/cave travel story) and post-adventure patronizing dialog between family members.

Hey, gang! Hurry and get you votes in now to select which option below you think will most likely conclude this week’s exciting action. (One vote per person, please.)

1. Mark drops his hands and pleads “Can’t we just get along?!” Instead, he gets handcuffed and arrested, as Tad Crass laughs.
2. Mark uses both Fists O’ Justice to knock down the guards. Tad Crass flees through a secret door, but gets permanently lost after following an AI-generated map.
3. One guard says “Oh, you’re that Mark Trail? Sorry, sir. We’re big fans! Can we get an autograph?” Tad Crass screams at the guards as Mark takes out his Sharpie.
4. Andy, the Saint Bernard, suddenly appears in the room and chases the guards away.
5. Tad Crass tries to bribe Mark with a mustang. Unfortunately, it works.
6. Tad panics, pulls out a revolver, and shoots Mark Trail. Kelly Welly takes over the strip. Distraught and unemployed, Cherry becomes an alcoholic; Rusty flees to joins a cult; and Doc Davis still searches for Banjo Cat.

There used to be a weekly live show on a local public radio station here called “Mark Trail Theater” where locals would act out the week’s strips. It was a kind of tongue-in-cheek spoof, with overly-dramatic “acting.” But it was all in good fun.

It’s a different thing altogether when the strip spoofs itself. Now, I don’t wish to be hypocritical, because in the past I’ve supported several of Rivera’s jabs at TrailVerse Traditions. Sometimes you have to cut down some old trees to make room for the new ones. On the other hand, there is a danger of going too far, where parody becomes the paramount feature, overtaking the strip. That seems to be what is going on here.

When pre-Rivera Mark got into a bought of fisticuffs, it was usually in dramatic situations involving typical bad-guy villains who wanted to get Mark out of the way. Getting into fistfights with rent-a-cops is not at all the same thing, even if the rent-a-cop started it. There is nothing really dramatic going on here; it’s more a sequence of overreaching, overreaction, and overdoing it. The fact that Rivera spends at least two days on this one action changes what used to simply be a hands-on solution to an immediate problem into a spotlighted plot feature, complete with Rivera’s commentary to make sure you don’t miss her point. “I’ve got two fists o’ justice for ya!” is the kind of hokey dialog you might hear in an old Arnold Schwarzenegger movie, but without his unique delivery.

I must lead a sheltered life. I don’t hold a phone that way, and I doubt anybody else holds a phone like that, unless it is someone standing up in a restaurant asking “Did anybody drop their phone?”

Apparently, it was necessary for the security guard to pose, statue-like, so Mark could conveniently grab his phone. I’d have thought/hoped that Rivera could have come up with a more realistic or, at least, more imaginative scenario. For example, the guard could have put the phone in his back pocket, whereupon Mark would have lifted it back out as the guard turned.

While Mark watches, the guard “walks” his fist over to Mark’s face (panel 3), reminiscent of slow-moving alien villains in cheap 1950s sci-fi movies. Well, Mark is quite polite to wait long enough for physical contact, which is reinforced by some top-rate Rivera Commentary (panel 4). A truly considerate dude is our Mark, and I hope the guard appreciates it, as I expect Mark will return the gesture on Wednesday.

Art Dept. Aside from the rather decently-drawn image of Mark in panel 3, I’m left wondering what happened with the rest.

Yeah, I know. Sometimes it’s just too easy to pick this apart, like any of the regulars over on the CK will certainly do. Well, just in case they are lax, feel free to submit your own observations.  But why Rivera decided to post a recap of Saturday’s strip today seems cynical. Even old-time Trailheads should be able to remember what happened two days ago. And any Trailhead could have read my Sunday weekly recap, in case they needed a refresher. Rivera should have known all this and chose to push the story ahead.

Anyway, I’d rather point out that Tad Sass’s desk is actually just a big box. A conventional Big-Time Operator would usually sit behind a large, tastefully-carved desk of East Indian rosewood, Burmese teak, tropical walnut, or some other exotic wood, thus presenting an image that breathes tradition, money, and power. But Tad Sass seems like any other tasteless parvenu; and his idea of a desk shouting “power and money” is possibly just be a solid chunk of mahogany. Or if he is just a phony, the desk is probably a plywood box with mahogany veneer.

I hope this story gets back on track, just as soon as Mark gets over his attack of constipation (panel 3).