Author: ComicBookHarriet

Okay. I lied.

Well, I didn’t really lie. I did as thorough a deep dive on Bulk as I could without subjecting his chinstrap beard to a spectrographic analysis or taking a DNA sample from his number 90 jersey.

But the entire time, it was Heather ‘Chien’ Parks I was planning to put under the microscope.

Chien has been oft requested as a subject of further scrutiny. And it’s easy to see why. In a fictional world almost completely filled with sequential photocopied, reused stereotypes of unattainable blonds, comic obsessed geeks, sweet girl-next-door types, and dumb jocks, she seems unique. On the surface at least, unlike any Funky Winkerbean character we had seen before or since.

And, crucially in a fictional world where every initially unique character gradually devolves through inexorable Batiukian forces of Blandness Entropy to a crushing uniformity of personality, Chien resists becoming just like everyone else for nearly a decade.

Most of her Act II arcs have already been posted in the comments section with SOSF brand snarky captions by our junior Batiukstorian, csroberto2854. But I wanted to take things a step further. Reviewing her tenure in the strip with a few questions in mind.

1.) Is Chien truly unique in personality?

Some Funkyverse females may not be ‘bland blond’ in character model, but a simple dye job would render them identical to the crowd. Cayla, Becky, and Rachel for instance. Does Chien ever degrade to this point?

2.) Where does Chien come from?

What media out in 1996-1997 made Batiuk decide he wanted a pretentious goth in his next high school class?

3.) Is Chien morally/intellectually/philosophically justified in the author’s eyes?

When Chien speaks, are we supposed to take her words as a mouthpiece of Batiuk, or has he intentionally written her as a character with a flawed viewpoint?

4.) What can Chien’s portrayal tell us about how Batiuk views and writes the internal lives of women?

For example, here is Chien’s first proper ‘arc’ following her classroom introduction.

So the very first thing we hear from Chien is angst about her own lack of attractiveness and low social standing in comparison to perfect preppy Jessica Darling.

So I just put on some black eyeliner, black lipstick and red eyeshadow and white foundation. Then I came. We all went outside the Great Hal and looked in from a widow. A fucking prep called Britney from Griffindoor was standing next to us. She was wearing a pink mini and a Hilary Duff t-shirt so we put up our middle fingers at her. Inside the Great Hall we could see Dumbledork. Cornelia Fudged was there shouting at Dumbledore. 

‘My Immortal’ by Tara Gilesbie

On the one hand, the ‘unattainable hot girl draws the interest of a pack of dudes’ is a trope Batiuk has drawn from again and again and again, as well as showing women being jealous of the benefits other prettier women get. On the other hand, he also shows men as being desperate losers at the bottom of the ladder comparing themselves to other guys.

The only consistency is that a girl or woman is the focus of unattainability.

The ‘most popular’ recurring male character almost never appears in Funky lore. Matt Miller was a bait and switch because you learn he’s an abusive loser and he’s put into his place within months of being introduced. Maybe, very very late in the game, you could put Masone Jarre up there.

In the meantime the Most Popular Girl in School is like the office of the President: a role that must always be filled, at least nominally, by someone.

Mary Sue Sweetwater, Cindy Summers, Sadie Summers, Jessica Darling, Rana Howard, Mallory Brooks, Maris Rogers. Those last two were barely characters at all, but still…there.

Unlike Jessica filling Sadie’s space of Popular Girl, and Pete and Darin filling Wally and Monroe’s as Those Two Guys, there isn’t an exact Chien and Ally shaped empty space recently vacated in 1998. Becky was a bland, sweet, girl-next-door, overachiever. Susan Smith was a cripplingly shy wall-flower who had no friends until she struck up an unlikely camaraderie with Sadie.

If anything these two seem set up to be girl versions of Those Two Guys. And if that was Batiuk’s intention, it was a noble attempt that failed. Mostly due to Ally having the personality of a sour hearted, elderly woman complaining about the new formula of her cat’s food on a one star Amazon review.

But what do you guys think of Chien (And Ally’s) introduction to the Funkyverse?

It’s been a good long while since I’ve embarked on a character dive. Ever since Skunk Head John completely burned me out on comics, comic books, and various and sundry nerdery more than a year ago, I’ve been taking my cues from Crankshaft or the Batty Blog for what to talk about any given post.

But I feel like I’m really hankering for a single subject to sink my teeth into. So a few days ago I posted this little teaser. A strip that ran on September 2, 1998 and served as our role call introduction to what would be (sans one) the graduating class of 2007.

And so, I’m proud to introduce our next deep dive on the pivotal and unique Act II character.

Bulk Dombrowski

Sporting a shaved head, chinstrap neckbeard, and blank expression, Bulk would first appear on August 27, 1998.

Bulk is from a long and storied lineage of giant, often meat-headed, Scapegoat football players with dumb nicknames.

Following in the Neanderthal-like fossilized footsteps of Act I’s Jerome ‘Bull’ Bushka, in Act II and Act III a succession of faint copies would be created from his original stereotype.

In the Wally, Monroe, Becky, Sadie, Mickey and Susan class a threatening and stupid ‘Morton’ filled the Bull bully role. With no less than three dumb names attached to the surname.

Were these supposed to be siblings? Did Batiuk just forget what stupid nickname he’d given him? I don’t know.

Marblehead seems to have been settled on, and his distinctive pointy headed, high top, look allows him to be identified through the rest of the Class of ’98’s tenure.

With the graduation of Marblehead Morton, the Meathead mantle passed to Bulk Dombroski. And what a glorious career at Westview he had!

Like that time in October 1998 when Bulk wouldn’t let Matt Miller copy his homework. Probably because Bulk could tell that Matt was actually a 35-year-old Mormon missionary pretending to be a high school student.

Then, there was that time in January 1999 when he was used as visual contrast with Mooch Meyers.

He was a prominent figure in the September 1999 arc wherein Chien and Ally blow the lid off of the hypocritical new school dress code.

He showed up a month later at the homecoming bonfire during the arson mystery. Perhaps he was a suspect!? (no)

That November, Bulk, Matt, and the rest of the Scapegoats had to suffer though Les Moore coaching the team to a conference championship because Batiuk hates Bull Bushka and will never give him anything nice ever even though Bull is the greatest character in the entire strip and I will fight anyone on this and I need to stop ranting now so bleh

Bulk also had to suffer in January 2000 as Les Moore, went on a vain power trip masquerading as ‘teaching’.

And then…well…Batiuk just forgot for a while. Just forgot about any kid at Westview who wasn’t Pete or Darin. Were these guys still around? Had they graduated while Pete ad Darin were held back? Month after month, Year after Year. Nothing.

Then, August 29, 2004.

But by October of 2004.

Then again, in November…if we ignore the dumb colorist giving Bulk a sudden tan, there he is, suffering again under Les Moore’s watchful eye.

In September of 2005, we are blessed with confirmation that the smirking shitstain, Matt Miller, has finally left this world. (This world being The Batiukiverse)

But what about our sweet hulking boi, Bulk? Is he safe? Is he alright? Batiuk decided to keep us in suspense for an entire YEAR.

September 2006. The very beginning of what we finally had confirmed to us as the Freshman Class of 1998’s Senior Year at Westview.

What would be Bulk’s exciting adventures in his last year at Westview?

Uh…

When Act II morphed to Act III, the high school generation of Summer Moore, Jinx Bushka, Maddie Klinghorn, and Cory Winkerbean also included another muscle mammoth with a dumb name. The next in the chain. ‘Big Mac’ Ronald.

Heralding a new generation, with new, more open minded, ideas, Big Mac truly broke the mold. For he dared to venture into the place no musclebound linebacker had ever strayed.

Komix Korner.

Deep dive over.

Or is it?

(Duh, Duhn, Daaaaaah)

What can you say about 15 years?

15 years ago, Elizabeth Taylor was still alive.

15 years ago, Fidel Castro was still alive.

15 years ago, A Dance with Dragons was a year from coming out.

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim was still in development.

The weekend after TFH put up his first post, Kick-Ass was in theatres.

A child born the day of TFH’s first post could be in high school, have a learner’s permit, acne, hair in funny places, a nose ring, a crippling addiction to TikTok and ennui.

A dog born the day of TFH’s first post is probably dead.

In 2025 we are further from the first post of Son of Stuck Funky, than the first post of Son of Stuck Funky was from the premiere of Titanic.

Snarkers, posters, commenters, comics, artists, characters…they have come and gone since 2010. But this place has remained.

Thank you to all those people that made this place what it was over the last decade and a half.

Thank you to all you wonderful people who make this place what it is now.

Most of all, thank you to TFHackett for starting this blog. Thank you to his partner in crime Epicus Doomus for orchestrating things behind the scenes for years.

And thank you Tom, for a lifetime of baffling and snarkable comic strips.

Stay Funky!

Coming up…

Thanks everyone, the fools who fell for it and the fools who didn’t, for playing along with Banana Jr’s and my April Fool’s gag this year. When I finished my draft of the fake newsletter, I read it first to my roommate and she was skeptical that I had gone too over the top. That is until I pulled up a random Match to the Flame post from Tom’s blog and read it aloud.

She agreed it was closeish enough to maybe fool people on first glance. Like a stunt double. And Banana Jr’s great narrative and staging provided the heart pounding action to hopefully keep readers from focusing too hard on the fact that The Rock in that short scene has a less pointy head that usual.

As Epicus put in in the comments a few days ago “No one else writes like BatHam writes, and I don’t think anyone could, no matter how hard they tried.”

The newsletter had a combination of made up and real facts. So I want a few solid clarifications before any of these made up facts in the post morph, through the power of Poe’s Law, into Batiuk trivia canon.

Batiuk HAS told us we’re getting a Blue Bombers and Wedding storyline in the future. We are assuming Pete and Mindy are finally getting married, but that HASN’T been officially confirmed.

Batiuk HAS NOT ever mentioned his son Brian getting or being married. That was all made up for the fake newsletter. Maybe Brian is single. Maybe Tom is keeping his son’s personal life completely private.

Batiuk HAS battled prostate cancer twice both in 2002-03 and 2011-12. It seems to have, thankfully, been caught early enough both times.

One thing Alexa Vortuba in the comments reminded me is that while I really DON’T want a sappy and preachy year long ‘Jeff’s Story’ pooly collaged together from old strips, stock photos, and clip art, prostate cancer is serious business.

Older gent commenters and lurkers reading this, please. I know it’s an uncomfortable meme, but make sure you get checked out. I watched Ryne Sandberg toss out the ceremonial first pitch for the Cubs today, and knowing it might be his last one, and knowing he’s about my Dad’s age, and knowing that my Dad is going to be stubbornly impossible to drag in for a test. It about brought me to tears.

On happier notes. We’ve got so many adorable widdle baby steak nuggets running around we really can’t keep track of them.

What kind of insane irony is it, that just days after I carefully copy pasted Batton’s head onto George Keesterman’s body so he could sit in a booth at Dale Evans, we’re treated to Batton being served by Angie the waitress in the same guacamole shit green booth?

I can’t even call Batiuk and Davis evil stalking hacks for this. Because knowing both their work cycles, this obnoxiously autobiographical arc was written over a year ago and pasted together weeks if not months ago.

Instead I can only attribute this to some sort of terrifying Nietzschean ‘He Who Fights Monsters’ scenario where I’ve stared into the abyss for so long I’m being sucked into the very mindset of the monster I have come to slay.

Strange as it may seem, I do believe that Dan Davis, the copy pasta master, does put more effort into Crankshaft than the other strip he supposedly ‘draws’. This is out of pure necessity. Look at today’s strip, he had to find all those backgrounds to trace and paste together. He had to attempt to smoosh Batton and Skip into a panel with Angie that was originally drawn for the normal Dale Evans trio.

The two tone voids of Garfield these days can be generated like a sticker book with ‘fill in the blank’ word bubbles, and no one will ever bat an eye if the exact same dog drawing is used three panels in a row.

Heck, are people even going to notice if he doesn’t change a thing from panel to panel? It’s for comedic effect, not laziness. Promise.

But you know what? It could be worse. It could be so much worse. At least this copy pasted line art is coherent enough.

Of course we all know 9 Chickweed Lane has become nothing but a badly scribbled humiliation fetish, with cheap computer gradient backgrounds. But today it seems the first panel was so graphic that a giant misshapen blob of a digitally painted grand piano lid was necessary to conceal the depravity.

We could also be poor georgekatkins commenting over at The Daily Trail, where the lovingly traced beauty of The Lost Forest of Mark Trail has been taken over by gaping maws, jagged black lines, and insufferable hipster hair.

Makes you long for the days of badly proportioned 60 year old panels clumsily traced by the similarly artistically inept ‘artist’ from the opposite side of the political horseshoe.

And really nothing these days compares to the drunkenly scribbled nightmare of Gil Thorp. The ‘artistic’ team behind that strip, having tired of trying to shock their readers with abortions, lesbians, non-binary bulimics, and hijabs, has taken to horrifying their hatedom with some of the most hideous and nonsensical art I’ve ever seen.

How the commenting team over at This Week in Milford manages to even understand what is supposed to be happening is beyond me. We thought trying to tell the endless army of bland Batiuk blondes apart was bad? Try imagining a human name to go with these eldritch abominations!

Maybe they should all take a page out of Mopped up Thorp and simply rewrite the strip entirely.

Infinitely funnier. Great job MopMan!