beckoningchasm

Harper Les

Greetings, folks, BChasm here, back behind the soundboard. Thank you, TFH, for a typically stellar performance–now I know what it was like, back when The Monkees followed their opening act, Jimi Hendrix, on to the stage.

The secret to being a good guest host is working with good material and bringing out something unique. The secret to being a great guest host is working with no material at all and coming up with something, which brings me to today’s piffle.

I guess it was about a year ago that Harper Lee published Go Set A Watchman, and I further guess that Tom Batiuk thought that would be suitable grist for his mill…somehow. I always assume that all of Les’ students are idiots, so I’ve learned nothing new about Amelia (whichever of the twins she is). But once again Les shows himself to be a colossal dick.

In my time in school, all the way through college, I never had a professor mock me by reading out one of my incorrect answers. And I fail to see what point Les is trying to make. If he thinks she’s not paying attention, a simple “Please see me after classes” written on the exam would suffice just fine. During which the teacher would discuss the student’s difficulties and make suggestions. You know, trying to help the student–something he’s supposed to be doing–rather than taking the opportunity to show what an ass he is.

So, I suspect Les’ after class meeting would start with some stupid wordplay and might finally get around to asking Amelia about her class performance. Then she’d respond to his question, “Gee, Mr. Moore, you’re so boring. You drone on and on about your dead wife when you’re not making these awful puns. I’m going back to Crankshaft.”

That might be a nice thing to be able to do, any other teacher would think. Somehow, though, I suspect Les finds it just fine in Westview, where all must celebrate his dickery.

The Smoker You Drink, The Player You Get

Link to today’s strip.

Ah, now, there’s the Funky we all know and, uh, know. Completely certain of his inevitable decline and demise. And taking an entire Sunday to remind us.

Another dull Sunday strip with no entertainment value at all…not even a vague stab at a punchline. The only things I’m curious about are 1) What the Hell is Funky holding in panel two, and 2) the car in the penultimate panel. That looks a lot like Funky’s car. Are we to gather that, when they found the airport locked, Funky and Holly just said the Hell with it, and drove from Akron(ish) to Dallas? Because that’s an 18 hour trip of nearly 1200 miles.

18 hours in the car with Funky? I think a terminal diagnosis would be a relief.

And thus ends my time in the spotlight. Please welcome the return of Fearless Leader himself, Mr. TFHackett, starting tomorrow, which is already in progress!

Compare and Contrast

Link to today’s strip.

Just like yesterday, Funky actually comes up with some wordplay that’s kind of clever. It reflects on the “doctor” and “snapshot” ideas, and uses them both to play off their varying definitions.

And of course, he has to be excoriated for this offense against the holy wit of Les Moore.

Let’s compare: today, here’s Funky telling a joke, and here’s the reaction he gets.

People so disgusted they have to support their scowls with their hands. I mean, WOW, that’s pretty disgusted, right?

Yesterday, we had something similar. Funky tells a joke–

And gets this reaction for his troubles:

Yeah, Funky’s a jerk. I’m not going to argue that one. Whadaya think I am, stoopid? But let us cut a little closer, let’s move in to this strip’s guts.

Compare the last couple of days’ offerings to a strip of a couple of years ago. Here’s Les offering up his own version of wordplay. He was talking about hauling a typewriter onto Montoni’s roof to write his first failed book. (As if Les Moore is capable of that kind of manual labor–that’s a funny joke right there.)

Have you ever heard anything so utterly childish? Don’t tell me that Funky’s puns from the last couple of days suffer in comparison. Les’ kind of wordplay…that’s the sort of thing a three-year-old would say he’s grown out of. But here it’s presented as the height of hilarity.

Let’s take a closer look at the reaction Les gets. Is he called a jerk, and groaned at?

Oh hell no:

Of course, I’m not sure what can be expected from a strip that has a character who says this, in 2013:

Who then, over the course of a couple of years, matures to the point where he now says this, in 2016:

To quote Jack Nicholson, in Mars Attacks! (1996): “Yikes!”

Given what we have, in a strip like this, it’s apparently perfectly understandable that Les’ “roof draft” joke would get this reaction:

These two people have never heard anything so funny in their entire lives.

In fact, they’re–

Why, they’re almost–wait, what’s this? Oh my God, what the Hell–

“God help us, in the future!” (Criswell)

Ballistic Mrs

Link to today’s strip.

You know, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that Funky’s wordplay is actually kind of clever. It’s certainly far superior to anything Les Moore has ever come up with.

And I guess that’s the reason why he has to be insulted. How dare you do something that Les is incapable of doing–providing some amusement, however dim. Telling, isn’t it? If it’s not Funky running himself down, it’s everyone around him–including his creator. It’s times like these–strips like these, I should say–where I don’t wonder why Funky has the grim, fatalistic attitude he has. What kind of life is it where the only response you can expect from a little joke is disgust? Just because you weren’t born with the name “Les Moore”?

I’m not saying you should be ROTFLOL at his joke, but it’s kind of clever and relevant to the situation. And Funky can’t even get an indulgent smirk.

You can bet that if this joke came from the death-hole of Les Moore, people would be laughingly falling out of their chairs to show how funny they found it…and yet, they’d also be reflecting on how true it all is, and how it has enriched their lives.

(It might be hard to discern that over the sound of readers everywhere projectile vomiting, but it would be there anyway.)

It’s probably good that Funky doesn’t (so far as I know) own a shotgun. I’m sure he would have gunned down anyone near him before turning the gun on himself–probably many, many years ago. Necessitating an Act IV, I’m thinking.

If You Encyst

Link to today’s strip.

Good ol’ Tom Batiuk; you think he’s going to sock you with drama, then he pulls the rug out from under you and says, “Just kidding!” It’s just like Lucy and the football!

Except I doubt anyone is fooled by this anymore. We’ve come to expect that nothing will ever change in this strip. Oh, Wally and Rachel will get married, Cindy will go to Los Angeles, Darrin will, alas, reproduce, but they’ll all come back to Westview because they’re moths, and Westview is the flame. It’s only the children who disappear.*

And Funky will get older, more out-of-shape, more decrepit…but the sweet release of death will always elude him. After all, he’s inferior in every way to Les Moore, and that’s an important function in Westview.

It has been speculated that Mr. Batiuk’s resentment toward Funky comes from the fact that his strip has been saddled with Funky’s amazingly dumb name. It must be especially galling since he re-tooled the strip to be “serious.” How could anyone take a strip called Funky Winkerbean “seriously”? That’s not the kind of title that draws award nominations!

My own theory is that the real-life Funky and ~~Les~~ Tom Batiuk had some kind of major falling out. And Tom Batiuk is the guy who has a syndicated comic strip that he can use as a vehicle for revenge. Funky is the one person perennially dumped on, and he gets no sympathy from any of the other characters. At least people feel sorry for Wally. I’ve never seen this kind of anger from a creator to his creation.

Well, actually I have, now that I think about it. Hollywood is full of people who achieved fame for one thing, then almost immediately became resentful of that thing and declared that said thing was keeping them from reaching their true potential. Think of all the comic actors who decided that, damn it, they were serious artists and, by God, they were going to make a movie about a crippled person dying in the gutter if it killed them! And they end up making a movie like Simple Jack. (NB: Not high quality.)

The thing is, I really can’t think of anyone like that who not only failed to achieve the goal of Serious Ac-Tor, but also tainted their earlier, funnier work with the failures of their later seriousness.

Apart from the obvious, I mean.

*If they ever make a Funky Winkerbean movie, this would be perfect for the tagline on the poster. Great for the trailer, too–imagine that read in some ghostly-whisper voice. *Shudder*