Comic 876: Randall learns about fucking nothing at all

Alt text: Socrates could've saved himself a lot of trouble if he'd just brought a flashlight, tranquilizer gun, and a bunch of rescue harnesses.

Fucking hell, it appears normal service has resumed with a vengeance. And here I was hoping that Randy might improve. Where the fuck to start with this one? There’s just too many things wrong. I don’t know where to start!

Okay, okay, ‘artwork’ first. This is the third appearance of that fucking desk/computer/swivel chair ensemble, although he’s replaced the flatscreen monitor with a CRT one. Why did he do that? And where is that telephone located? Is it meant to be a telephone box? He can’t be ringing from home, because who has a phone that nowadays? Also, there’s no reference to anything newer than The Republic. I fucking swear, he’s got a stack of buffer comics piled up for when he can’t think of anything relevant. He must be running low if this one made it.

Oh God, the actual content. It’s the very dregs of teenage pop-philosophy, executed in the most horrifically inept way, just so he can make a joke about sending a search-and-rescue team to Plato’s Cave. That was the joke he wanted to make, and this is how he decided to do it.

Think about that for a moment, before we move on.

The first panel is fairly innocuous. It’s a guy in some mystic whitespace land, holding a phone oddly, saying he is trapped. There is even a little twist in the phone cord. For Randall, it’s practically a masterpiece.

Then that second panel. She guesses that the ‘splotches of light’ of light are his ‘eyeballs’? What? What the fuck? How…? How is the brain ‘seeing’ anything? Why can it see the eyeballs? How the fuck did she work that out? I’ll tell you how she worked it out, Randall needed her to work it out, so she fucking did! Webcomics, eh? How fucking easy are they?

But then we dig deeper. We’re through the confusion and into wince-inducing life ‘advice’ when she explains to us that she is talking to a ‘brain’, and that he isn’t trapped and he should ‘experience reality’.  Maybe you could also tell us how beautiful sunsets are, Randall, you lazy fucking hack.

And we hit the bottom, the true failure of the comic. That punchline, prefaced by some Matrix shit. And worse, she refuses to help him out of Plato’s Cave. A cave that is a metaphor for the philosopher’s duty to society, a duty to fucking help people get out of the cave and see the truth. And because Socrates and Plato were mystics to the core, they believed the material world to be the cave, and their spiritual Realm of Forms to be ‘reality’. Randy has got it completely back to front.

So Randy, you wanted to make a joke about Plato’s Cave.

Do you even know what the fuck it is about? Do you?

And fuck that bland, worthless piece of shit alt-text. Just fuck it.

REDDIT WATCH: And fuck Reddit. I don't even care where he got this. Fuck everything.

Artist's Corner:
Capn once again sends a picture my way, with no credit this time so I'm assuming it's his.  

So I get that there's an apartment on fire and a guy is calling room number 911. Beyond that I have no idea what is going on. Anyone have an explanation, or is Capn trolling me in some obscure fashion?

BINGO TIME!

We have a first! Someone has got the middle square, and it's Capn, who makes up for his terrible comic with the tasteless "Flacial: a slow-moving money shot." But is it enough to get bingo?

No, it isn't.