Shrimpy and Paul and Friends

Bell's deranged "Shrimpy and Paul" comic strips have been running in various Canadian papers and magazines since the mid-'90s; this book collects three long serials, as well as a handful of shorter pieces. They're full of the anarchic slapstick of '60s underground comix—and, actually, Bell's squiggly, tremulous, detail-packed drawings and dialogue owe more than a bit to "Boy Howdy"–era Robert Crumb. But these strips' combination of non-sequitur-filled absurdity and straight-faced internal consistency is all Bell's own. His specialty is free-associating the silliest thing he can possibly imagine, then running with it, as when Shrimpy announces he's about to give birth through his knees to 12 small replicas of himself, one of whom will be wearing a Black Sabbath T-shirt. The rest of that story's plot is just logical follow-through. There's one more-or-less human character who helps to keep things grounded, but the rest is a bubbling mass of ridiculous cartoon creatures, druggy inventions and wildly messed-up sexuality (like the sweaty little bug-eyed creature who steals Paul's nipples and rubs mayonnaise on them). The settings Bell invents are a visual feast, as nutty and crammed with throwaway sight gags as early Mad comics, but drawn with a deadpan conviction that just makes them funnier. The visual and conceptual chaos can be exhausting in large doses, but a few pages at a time are a treat. (May)