“Drenched in irony”…not exactly, unless “irony” is now synonymous with horse doot. So Lisa was either “trying to fit in” or she was trapped in a violent, abusive relationship…which one is it? I also have to assume that Summer is skipping over entire months of this journal, as Lisa now knows she’s pregnant, but whatever. It’s not all going to suddenly start making sense at this point, you know? I just wish Cayla had “drenched” this idiotic journal with gasoline before tossing it into the nearest bonfire.
So, it appears that the big “plan” to foil Frankie’s demented scheme somehow involves putting Jessica’s oft-mentioned camera-pointing and tripod assembly skills to work…finally. Too bad for Boy Lisa that she’s not this ambitious where actual paying gigs are concerned. I haven’t a clue as to how filming Summer reading random diary passages will stop Frankie’s nefarious plot (so to speak), but hey, I guess Batom has to start wrapping this disaster up sooner or later, regardless of whether it makes any sense at all or not. Nor do I know what’s going on with the trippy purple background or the wild scribbling and the less said about Summer’s painfully bony and angular legs, the better. What a fiasco.
Son of Stuck Funky 
I thought Space Cadet Darling Jr. was still working on her Dad’s documentary. I hope this is the end of it. Probably not, though unless TB makes a premature entry as he did Les’s wedding.
And still no word on Cell Phone Girl.
Good God.
Is the “irony” that she and Jessica are cashing in on Lisa by making a reality show (aka “documentary”), instead of Frankie? Or that they seem blissfully unaware that they’re doing so?
And WTF is Summer still wearing a stinking hoodie in summer, in front of hot lights. Gahhhhhh!
Alert the Academy! This one’s going to be so good, they’ll change the Oscar to the Lisa!!!
EXCERPT FROM SUMMER MOORE’S DIARY:
“My life is drenched in Keisha’s juices…I wanted so badly for her to fit in. And soon I won’t want to be able to fit into any girls’ clothes.”
Psst, Jessica! Lose the tripod! Strap the camera to Buddy the dog’s back and do jump cuts every 3 seconds! And while you’re at it, work in some EVPs and thermal imaging cameras while Summer does a seance. Audiences love a good ghost angle.
I don’t even want to think about what Batiuk’s drenched in after having spent so long on this lame and corny arc. It seems so obvious we’re going to end up two spaces back from where we started, once we finally reach the end of this shit.
Obviously the plan to thwart Frankie’s “reality” TV show is to launch a primitive & preemptive documentary of their own. Of course this will in no way affect the Hollywood movie option of Leslie’s screen-play. Somewhat akin to “Tuesdays with Morrie”
So after weeks of nausea, nothing will really become of any of this except a paycheck for Batiuk.
I want to see the day of the week where Summer’s outfit is in the wash.
We still have no evidence of copulation between St. Lisa and Frankie, just her growing abdomen. Immaculate conception for Durrwood? Sure, why not.
Rusty wrote: I want to see the day of the week where Summer’s outfit is in the wash.
But… but that would mean she’d be na… OHH, GOD! NO! NOOOOO!!!!
A bony, indifferent shemale reading from her dead mother’s diary to a single stationary camera? Now that’s Art, Jessie! Maybe even Box Office Gold!
Summer: “Obviously, this is a brilliant plan. My reading Mom’s disconnected, incoherent ramblings in my own trademark flat, affected tone will certainly put a stop to the EVIL Frankie and the EVIL that is reality TV programming.”
Jess: “Though, technically, we’re using the equivalent of a reality TV confession cam format to do this.”
Summer: “…w-what?!? N-no! NOOOOOOO! I’M UNCLEAN!!! AAAAAUGH!”
(Summer rends her hoodie, claws at her face until drawing blood, then collapses in a heap, Lisa’s Diary o’ Retcons now reduced to fluttering shreds.)
Jess: “Oops. Dopey me! I had the cap on all the time! Heh. So, ready to do another take, Summer? ….*…Summer?”
I just stuck my other hand in the blender!
Bad bad bad. For a close to middle aged chick with crazy 70’s hair who hates reality TV shows so much, I have to say that Jessica is the worst.
Has anyone noticed that Summer’s clothes haven’t changed?
Wait– I forgot something– Jessica went to SCHOOL to be a documentary maker! Where’s her:
1. External microphone? Can we just pretend Summer is mic’ed up with a wireless one? No, wait,. that doesn’t make sense, those aren’t the best for voice work. I guess we’re going to just have to put up with the camera’s onboard mic hiss and the sound of Cayla rattling plates downstairs.
2. Some sort of studio-quality lighting rig? I know she’s on a budget, but come on, spend the $300 and get a proper lamp for this reading.
3. *Some* sort of crew. Where is Assistant Producer Jinx? Weren’t we treated to a WEEK LONG fuss about Jinx working on this production? You’re going to need more than just one name in the credits to give this any kind of legitimacy.
Okay, dudes? Guys? A crappy YouTube video does not a documentary make. As a “real” “filmmaker” whose work consists mostly of media for medical device companies and more Powerpoint-to-Video transpositions than I’d like to admit, I will be shocked and appalled if this so-called documentary makes it off miniDV. I’m mad and angry right now, and I don’t know what to do about it.
So, which one of Lord Lessadder’s “friends” went to him and said, “My lord, I have a cunning plan”?
Also, in the beady-eyed-nitpicker department, the tripod has four legs. Batominc, you magnificent bastard! The tripod has four legs.
I’ve been reading Chunky Funkybean since Day One, when I was in the Army and getting my hometown newspaper by mail subscription…I’ve seen it go through stages and phases, and streaks of actual entertainment…and now this…
Just when ya think Batiuk can’t get any f***in’ dopier, he raises (or is that lowers?) the bar one more time…
Story sucks, Tom…you’ve been in the game one eight-panel too long…wrap it up, tie the storylines together, kill off whoever’s on the hit list, and try to regain a little dignity on the way out.
If I was Franky, I would sue for theft of intellectual property!!
The reality show was his Funking idea!!!!
Hey, who wouldn’t pay to see a documentary consisting entirely of a scrawny, po-faced androgyne in a sweat-stained hoodie reciting passages from a depressed teenage girl’s account of her humiliating rape and pregnancy?
On second thought, that sounds something they’d show at the New York FIlm Festival. Jessica’s an avant garde film auteur and doesn’t know it!
You fools! Don’t you recall the wisdom of the Blessed Saint Dead Lisa? Making a boring talking head video is the solution for everything!
Doing some math here….the Immaculate Dead St. Lisa had just moved to Westview and just met Frankie. Yet was already preggers. That would mean that the inseminator was not Frankie, but someone from where she used to live. Which would explain why Durwood looks nothing like Frankie. What we don’t know,however, is whether or not her old hometown is even more pathetic than Westview.
My local paper prints Crankshaft just above FW, and sometimes the strips sort of run together when I read them. Thus, I initially read today’s strip like this.
TB ought to think about further experimenting with a laugh track.
Perhaps this is for the “Lisa’s Story” DVD extras. The revenge of Team Lisa is to discredit Frankie’s reality show using a 15 minute extra that will not be included on versions of the DVD sent to Nextflix & Redbox…Sorry, “FlickBox” for those in FunkyWorld.
I just wanna know who shaved their pubes on the furniture and didn’t clean up afterwards…
I think we’ve all misconstrued Mr. Batuik’s purpose. Funky Winkerbean is not a poorly plotted indifferently drawn strip grasping after ‘currency’ by lurching from one hot button issue to another but is instead it is, in the unassuming guise of a daily comic strip, a brilliant piece of Dada challenging the readers expectations by remorselessly failing to meet them time after time, thus calling into question the very idea of story and character – I would include Mr. Batuik’s public interviews and pronouncements in this as they are brilliant pieces of Dada performance art. For example “It’s called writing” this when compared to the actual words on the page forces the reader to confront their unspoken assumptions about what is writing and what is art; is writing just words in a row or do they need to convey meaning of some sort.
This current strip makes Mr. Batiuk’s intentions clear – after a story line that flirted with a criticism of celebrity culture and evil stepfather, date rape and violence against women we are left with a non-descript young woman in a hoody reading a diary out loud while the camera watches. It’s as magnificent an example of anti-art as any of the films of Andy Warhol.
I would declare that Mr. Batiuk is currently the most important avant guard artist working in America today.
Well done sir.
@ billytheskink
That was hilarious. reminds me of the time a local paper switched the captions for Dennis the Menace with the Far Side and improved both strips.
I am at a meeting and actually laughed out loud at that.
@ Professor Fate; Then again maybe he just sucks.
I know where this is heading – “The Lisa’s Vagina Monologues” soon becomes the toast of Broadway, and is performed by every television actress during their summer hiatus at dinner theatres across the country.
I think you’re on to something, Professor Fate. This story thwarts all our expectations of storytelling. The narrative is inert and aimless. The characters are all worthless and unlikeable. The dialogue almost deliberately seems to be written to superficially resemble actual speech, but upon closer examination is cumbersome, awkward and often nonsense. The art is execrable, building up to this terrible week’s worth of strips which has been nothing more than pictures of a person reading a book. This is larger than just simply a bad comic strip. This is an anti-comic strip. No artist in the history of the medium has so deconstructed the comic strip. It’s not entertaining. It does not provoke. It does nothing.
It is, truly, a work that reveals the genuine horror of a mundane and nonsensical world. The Joker wishes he could be this effortless a nihilist.
I’ll be damned — I didn’t even notice until now that tripod has four legs. No doubt, we weren’t SUPPOSED to notice. I guess I didn’t because I was too engrossed in the lame storyline. Well played, Mr. Batiuk. I stand in line.
A quadpod?
Professor Fate: That is one theory. Merry Pookster: That’s the other. The question has been the same since day one of the (original) pregnancy arc. Does he really think this is good or is it one huge, elaborate multi-decade troll? I’ve always leaned toward “real” but sometimes I waver.