Sunday’s strip is generally not available for preview, so here are a couple of thoughts until it goes live. (I’m thinking it has been a while since we had a comic book “tribute,” myself. I’m told, though, that we’ve got more Les on the way.)
For those of you who see the title and think David Bowie, well, here you go.
There’s been a lot of speculation here, especially during the last week, as to exactly what Tom Batiuk is up to. We had six solid days of a “joke” that could have told itself in two, tops. Why?
Well, I have a possible theory. I think he wants that golden year. I think he wants Funky Winkerbean to last for fifty years, so he can say he had a strip that reached that landmark. Peanuts lasted for fifty years, Dick Tracy lasted for fifty years, The Far Side lasted for fifty years…that’s the only reason anyone talks about those strips, which are way inferior to mine. So if get to fifty, I will enter the pantheon of the greats.
So, how does he reach that magic date? By s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g these pitifully weak story arcs way past the breaking point, and having them haul more panels than their recommended load capacity. You could hear them straining and buckling all last week, and I’m sure they’ve still got a week’s work to go starting tomorrow. If you can stretch two days of “story” into two weeks, that Golden Anniversary is yours, baby!
This is not the first time this strip has had a space oddity or two–there’s plenty of sound and vision evidence. From Funky always crashing in the same car, ending up in a Moonage daydream, to Wally living life on Mars while suffering panic in Detroit. Just recently, Les had the chance to start a new career in a new town with all the young dudes, leading to fame, fashion and maybe even modern love (though not in a creepy way). However, thanks to the harassment of Le Chat Bleu (his laughing gnome), he rejected the changes and became one of the heroes. He learned the heart’s filthy lesson, rejected those scary monsters, and chose not to become the man who sold the world.
All of this should have taken about the same time it takes to listen to a “Greatest Hits” album. Instead, it deadheaded on for months and months. That ought to be enough evidence that Tom Batiuk’s not doing it for the “art” anymore, he’s doing it for the “history.” The last story I remember here that was even half-assed was when Pete met Flash Gordon; there seemed to be a little bit of engagement on the part of the author. Everything I can recall since has been assless; I’m not even aware if there are any fully-assed stories. One suspects not.
All I can say is, there’s a song that fits this perfectly. I forget who made the song, but the chorus goes like this:
“Ashes to ashes, funk to Funky
We know Major Tom’s a junkie
Strung out in heaven’s high
Hitting an all-time low…”
Son of Stuck Funky 
All you need to know about the Great Writer is on display in today’s abysmal strip. Pointless, painful expository dialog with another obnoxious Les remark tacked on for good measure. I’m assuming that, as usual, TB figures his regular readers are so stupid they needed to have that awful DUI gag spelled out for them one last time. I’m also assuming that he figured there was no need to elaborate on the original premise of this arc (DUI is recruiting Bull) because no one’s going to remember it or care anyway. Good call there.
I never could stand that Linda. Always with the wry smirks and the snide comments, blech. Poor Cayla, if I was her I’d definitely switch seats. With anyone.
With that facial expression I imagined Les delivering his line in an upper class snotty English accent. Didn’t think it was possible, but he can be more annoying.
Why are Les & Cayla even there? He’s obviously not a football fan — if she is, she wouldn’t want to watch this pathetic excuse for a game. Their kids aren’t playing & their pal the coach can’t possibly feel better about his team losing when they do it in front of his friends. Did they lose a bet with Bull’s wife & have to accompany her? Or is there just nothing else to do on weekend nights in that dismal burg — no TV, movies, library books, Scrabble, sex?
Everybody’s at the game so they can go to Montoni’s afterwards. Tradition.
Apauled: You’re forgetting, this is Les’ favorite pasttime: acting superior to everyone else.
BC: I have absolutely no doubt he’ll go for fifty, that’s what, like nine years or so? A Starbuck Jones movie and a “Lisa’s Story” broadway musical, a couple of prominent deaths, a bio-dad or two, the usual cavalcade of annual dreck and bam, that’s nine years right there. While fifty years would no doubt be hailed as a major accomplishment among those who’ve never read the strip, regular FW readers know that if you take away all the filler it distills down to like five or six weeks worth of actual stories.
Could he keep this up for nine more years? I have no doubt whatsoever that he could, if he choose to do so. Would it really shock anyone if he had twenty years worth of these strips all stockpiled and ready to go? Now while I can’t comment on how long it’d take to draw them, as far as filling in the word balloons? Come on, four or five hours a year, tops. MAYBE a weekend if you want to take it slow with lots of breaks.
Imagine if you could get a sneak peek at the next twenty years of FW? It’d be an eight and a half minutes I’d never forget. Five of those minutes would be time spent trying to figure out what the jokes were supposed to be, of course.
Said nine superfluous years can’t possibly contain strips that have Les stuck for the answer to the question “If you hate watching the team lose so much, why not stay home? You’re not legally obliged to, you know.” because the more you try to convince Les that no one would care if he begged off, the more he’d think that his presence was mandatory.
That first word balloon alone hurts my head something awful.
Batiuk’s getting on in years and obviously running out of steam, so I think FW has five years left to cry in, five years (what a surprise).
It’s certain TB is tiring. Why, the walls of exposition were less than 50% of the comic today! There was far and away too much artwork to look at. Come to think of it, though, even these paltry speech balloons contained too much of TB’s trademark bloated prose to suffer through. I guess, when it comes down to it, and you work through the overlay of melancholy that blankets county fairs and, in the main, high-school football games, Funky Winkerbean is just too much.
Also, every L looks like an h, and that’s just uncalled for.
“Everybody’s at the game so they can go to Montoni’s afterwards. Tradition.”
Couldn’t they go to Montoni’s afterwards without sitting through the game first? Or would that be crass, like showing up at the reception without attending the wedding ceremony?
Considering actual weddings and receptions have occurred at Montoni’s, it is almost impossible to make it more crass.
Why are Les & Cayla even there? He’s obviously not a football fan — if she is, she wouldn’t want to watch this pathetic excuse for a game.
You know, it occurred to me that perhaps the reason for Batiuk’s…. peculiar vision is due to the fact that he feels there a whole lot of things people must do, no matter whether they want to, or like to, or not. It would certainly explain why everyone’s miserable, snarky and passive aggressive. So Les and Cayla both have to go to the football game, despite neither one of them having much reason or desire to be there. I’m also struck by how Batiuk draws the stands as packed with people who all wanted to come watch a historically winless team play. It’s as if everyone in the community has to go.
As for Les in that last panel, I can’t believe that Batiuk has no idea how physically and socially repulsive he makes him. There’s little explanation for that face if he didn’t intend it.
Les is exceedingly punchable today