A very Merry Christmas to you all, SOSFers! Your Christmas will likely be merrier if you don’t read today’s strip, but linking to the latest Funky Winkerbean strip is kind of what we do here. Apologies.
I guess the jury is finally out (citation needed) on Morton’s “moves” (citation needed) and “charm” (citation needed). Bedside Manor needs to change the locks.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Tagged as An idiocy of Winkerbeans, bricks, cartoonish sexual tension, Christmas, crippling snowfall, dinner, Funky, Funky Winkerbean, Funky's dad, Funkys, geriatric sex, heavy snow, holiday extravaganzas, Holly, Lillian, Merry Christmas, Mort, Morton, Morton Winkerbean, Now Funky, Old dying people, silhouette, silhouettes, snow, Squick, St. Spires, symbols associated with Christianity, the inevitable ravages of age, the raptor claw in Holly's hair, the ravages of age
Adeela Ann Fairgood Atomik Komix basketball Batiukmobile® Batom Comics Becky Boy Lisa bricks Buddy Bull Cayla cellphone Christmas chullo Cindy Cliff Anger Cody Cody and Owen coffee comic books comics Cory Crankshaft Crazy Harry Darin Dead Skunk Head Dinkle Falling leaves Flash Freeman football Funky Funky Winkerbean Harry Dinkle hatchet face holidays Holly Hollywood hoodie Jessica John Keisha Komix Korner Les Les' yellow shirt Linda Lisa Lisa's Story Marianne Marianne Winters Mason Mason Jarr Mason Jarre Mindy Montoni's Montoni's Mopey Pete Nate Old dying people Owen Pete Phil Holt photo album corners pizza Rachel random students Ruby Lith silhouette smirk snow sports squiggly lines Starbuck Jones Summer technology traveling green shirt unnatural hand gestures Wally Westview High School Westview HS Band
Son of Stuck Funky 
Santa, for Christmas I want to see Mort discover that Lillian is a giant praying mantis in a repugnant disguise.
Disguise?
If the actual female praying mantis was as hideous as Lillian, the species would never reproduce.
Or a bug-eyed alien from Neptune, as in one of Calvin’s dreams.
Great as Earth boy waffles are, Earth man hot dogs with peas and zucchini stuffing are a close second.
I’m sure Mort, his new lady friend from Crankshaft, his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s daughter, and her husband – his son – will have a delightful meal together.
The Blob would be just as good, and more suited to this strip’s artistic “style.”
“Nothing personal, Dad, but one dried-up, scrawny bird at the dinner table is enough!”
Yes, of course we’re supposed to believe that Lillian was so ensnared by Mort Winkerbean’s extreme personal magnetism during their last van encounter that she would drop her Yuletide plans (It this supposed to be Christmas Eve or Christmas Night?) and spend more time with the horny nursing home resident who made her feel uncomfortable before. Oh, well, at least means we won’t have to see her in “Crankshaft” today, since the time gap no longer seems to exist…except when it suits Batiuk.
“This is Lillian McKenzie, who you should already know because we were all at the Dinkles for Thanksgiving a month ago.”
Well I almost called it “what I think to be most likely in that event would be Holly inexplicably introducing Funky to Dinkle just like she did at Thanksgiving.”.
So we’ve established two things- Mort’s dementia is in full remission and Funky should be fully aware from Thanksgiving that Mort can come and go as he pleases from Bedside Manor.
Hate today’s strip! Less squick, more brick!
Merry Christmas, everyone!!!
Merry Xmas, SoSF!
This strip could have been a memo.
I still think my reason from yesterday explains it all. “I’ll just shove the most loathsome characters I have in their faces, over and over again, and then, oh then they’ll learn! Oh HOW I HATE those who refuse to appreciate my genius! I HATE THEM!”
I dunno … I mean, sure, I agree that Batiuk really can’t stand any sort of criticism. But devising a conscious plan to deliberately annoy his critics? This sounds like a strategy that would require continuous effort from Batiuk. And expending any sort of energy on his work? Well, that would seriously cut into the time he’d prefer to spend on his actual passions: taking uninteresting photographs; writing hagiographic introductions to his collected works; and reading and reviewing old Flash comics.
You might be on to something with your theory. I find it hard to believe Batty could be this offensive by accident.
Are you kidding me?! Lillian McKenzie viewed as a sex object?
🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮
Batty: My fans can’t get enough of Lillian McKenzie! Wait until they get a load of this!
Also Merry Christmas ya filthy animals! Keep the change!
Well, at least he’s not trying to bang her in a van…this time. Merry Christmas!
Yet.
Merry Christmas, all! Enjoy all the Christmas cheer you can get — for the Dinkle Rose Parade float approacheth!
No problem! We’ll just stop by Dinkle’s and get a second turkey!
That whole arc hasn’t stopped chafing me. It’s not the unrealism itself. It’s what it says about Tom Batiuk. He’s so disengaged from the process of cooking and holiday preparations that he believes you can pull a half-dozen frozen turkeys out of the basement freezer and, using the kitchen of a suburban home, have them ready to eat in an hour or so.
It speaks to someone who is lazy in every aspect of his life (presumably he’s never in his 70+ years lifted a finger to help in the kitchen). And it speaks to someone who underestimates the intense labor he takes for granted. And it speaks to someone who not only doesn’t know things, but doesn’t know that he doesn’t know things. In other words, yet another stark demonstration of the Dunning-Kruger effect from our boy Tom.
And having gotten that off my chest: I wish all of my fellow snarkers a Holly Jolly Christmas and a Cool Yule!
You’ve really hit the core of what’s so frustrating about Act 3 of this strip. It embodies the lack of connection to the real world that was a hallmark of Silver Age DC comics (think of any number of late ‘50s or early ‘60s plot lines). As flawed and melodramatic as the Act 2 stories were, they showed some attempt at coherence and were close enough to reality that allowed for a willing suspension of disbelief (as viewers accept for many TV and streaming series).
I’d hope that, rather than laziness, what’s at play here is some basic inability to observe and perceive the essential details that make for good writing.
It’s so simple. Choose one, but only one:
FW is an absurdist world where anything can happen, and even the craziest occurrences don’t faze the inhabitants, in which case we can suspend disbelief when insane things occur
OR
FW is “a quarter inch from reality,” in which case characters in-universe should be shocked and amazed when insane things occur. For example, when a chimp talks. Or a dead guy comes back to life. Or deafness or Alzheimer’s are reversed spontaneously, etc.
You cannot have both.
I don’t recall whether someone has already brought this up, but – Dinkle and wife have freezer(s) full of band turkeys. Enough that they are still a decade behind in consuming them.
Who paid for those turkeys? Did Dinkle buy up all that hadn’t sold? Or did he just take all the unsold birds home every year without paying? I don’t recall any mention of him taking a hit to his pay for low sales, or otherwise suffering financially.
Is there any proof he didn’t steal from the high school music program?
Merry Christmas and a happy and healthy 2022 to all, including Tom Batiuk, who I know is a regular reader here.
Merry Christmas to all the wonderful snarkers and readers on the SOSF crew!
Hope your holiday is hopeful, joyful, loving, and fun.
So basically, I hope each and every one of you is the opposite of Les Moore.
News item: the order of march for the Rose Parade has been published: https://www.pasadenastarnews.com/2021/12/24/2022-rose-parade-lineup-your-guide-to-every-float-every-band-in-order/
The float we saw preview pictures of, “Saluting America’s Band Directors. We Teach Music. We Teach Life.” is #58 out of 85. No mention of the FW/Dinkle tie-in, but the foundation does get a shout-out for being “the first [parade entry] to incorporate both a float and a marching band.” The marching band will follow the float as entry #59. I counted about 15 marching bands, total, plus other musical performances.
What a terrible thing to say! Go wash your mouth out! What did you call me?!
Oh! An SOSFer… never mind. Sorry.
Merry Christmas.