Pointless precognition.

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You didn’t sit down before answering! You sat down after answering! At most you sat down WHILE answering. And do you always narrate everything you plan to do? And then do you immediately fail to do the thing you plan?

Cayla is confirmed as baked out of her mind, only able to repeat what she heard last. No judgement here, whatever gets her through the day.

Epicus pointed out yesterday that Summer has been in college for seven years of real time. Even if we accept a ‘comic book time’ that allows for a year of Funkyverse to take more time than a calendar year in the real world…It’s baffling that Tom Batiuk would drop her character like that.

What do you figure Summer’s big bombshell is? I still have a longstanding bet that she the secret student from behind the Big Gay Castle. But maybe I’m unfairly stereotyping female basketball players with pixie cuts. It was probably Chullo head.

When a Stranger Calls.

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Comic Book Harriet back for another turn at the Train Wreck Report. Thanks to Epicus for seeing us through last week! Your hard work on this wonderful little blog deserves praise.

Caucayla sure looks haggard in panel one. Also she seems to be drying the dishes, even though she is standing nowhere near a sink. Also, if Les is rolling in the published author, tenured teacher, kill fee dough, why don’t they have an electric dishwasher? Does Les need a flesh and blood woman to dry his dishes? Is this like…a fetish for him? Is that why Cayla looks so depressed?

Cayla in panel two echoed my thoughts when reading this for the first time. Summer calls? Like the season? I guess it is nearing the middle of May…maybe Les, as a teacher, is especially attuned his students’ bipolar spring emotions of crushing ennui and building excitement. The call of summer.

Then I was all like, oh yeah, Les has a daughter named Summer…right. Wonder when the last time we heard from her is? Doesn’t Cayla have a daughter too? Weird.

She Who Must Not Be Named

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How exactly is Funky looking at Holly in panel 2? His shriveled left eye seems to be staring right at the bridge of his own nose. But his cosplay is on fleek. A near dead ringer for Joe Pesci’s Harry from Home Alone. True the hat is the wrong color, but the vacant yet angry expression is exactly the same.

Of course Holly is probably referring to Hurricane Irma. But that’s not the only option.

She could mean Irma, Wisconsin, USA, an unincorporated community that Mrs. Budd wants to live closer to so she can attend St Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church.

Or she could be frustrated that Irma, a Danish supermarket chain, has stopped shipping internationally so she wants to move somewhere with a larger Danish expat population in hopes of finding a store carrying her favorite brand of Spegesild.

Maybe she wants to be closer because she has IRMA Intraretinal microvascular abnormalities, a component of diabetic eye disease.

Maybe she’s upset because she heard rumors that Irma Records, an Italian record label, was about to drop Michael Buble’s friend, Matteo Brancaleoni, and needs emotional support.

On the subject of emotional support, maybe her past is coming back to haunt her. She could be suffering from PTSD from participating in Operation Irma, a series of airlifts of civilians during the Siege of Sarajevo.

She’s even old enough to have survived the sinking of the SS Irma, a Norwegian merchant ship sunk in controversial circumstances in 1944 by the Royal Norwegian Navy.

Since we’ve already had one storyline on swinging seniors and protection, maybe Holly’s mad at IRMA, the International Rectal Microbicide Advocates, an international non-profit organization which promotes awareness of rectal microbicides and reviews and encourages research into the safety of personal lubricants for anal sex, especially as pertaining to preventing AIDS. Maybe Funky’s Mom gave Funky’s Dad HIV after living it up with the senior crowd at the Miami Bum Boat Club.

But if I could pick one myself, I hope Holly means 177 Irma, a 43 mile wide asteroid currently located in the asteroid belt. I would choose this in the hopes that Mrs. Budd is only moving in so she can spend her last few weeks tormenting her son-in-law before a wayward 177 Irma careens into Earth driving the human race extinct.

Timeworn Warning

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So an unpleasant elderly woman demands to move in with her middle aged child? A plot line so timeless that Tom Batiuk has used it already. Did he miss Rose from Crankshaft so much that he decided to move a surrogate Rose to the flagship? How long until the elder Mrs. Budd is stabbing comic books and reminiscing on spatula spankings?

This strip is really about 50% recycled Crankshaft at this point. Elder antics abound, and the majority of the cast is aged 50-90 and drawn as an even 75. And it only highlights how much better Crankshaft is. I’m not saying Crankshaft is good but it is usually tolerable and occasionally amusing. Some of that has to do with residual ‘zany’ ideas being allowed there, like Crankshaft scaling a massive icicle with hatchets.

I think the real difference is the titular protagonist. When your main character’s explicit stock state is a grumpy, ignorant, sour old man, then it’s in character when he’s stupid or mean. But it hints at hidden depths when he’s thoughtful or kind. Like washed out, discount, diet Archie Bunker.

But when your main character is supposed to be a relatively intelligent, socially conscious, everyman, then he’s bland when he’s acting like himself, and just infuriating when he’s an asshole so dense and full of shit Miralax couldn’t clear him out.

Doom Smells Pretty Fishy.

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Oooh, we have a real treat this week. Not only was Monday a nonentity where one character essentially tells another, “I will soon tell you the point.” But we get a double dose of the ‘suspense’ today. Do you think by the end of the week we will know the crux of the ‘conflict’? I give it 50-50 odds.

Funky is shoveling the snow off the sidewalk, and talking to his wife on the phone. So much wrong with this.

While I guess a March snowstorm isn’t insane for the Midwest,(here in Iowa we had snow on Thursday,) the strip on Sunday had the students standing on growing green grass in light jackets and sweaters.

Funky is just outside his house. Unless his wife is away from town, isn’t she just inside? Why is she asking him if he’s sitting down? Why is she having this serious conversation with him on the phone, instead of waiting the 15 minutes for him to finish shoveling? Has she locked him out of the house? Do they only converse with cell phones now? Does she refuse to set eyes on him since he turned into a horrible eldritch amalgamation of the Stay-puff Marshmallow Man and Statler the Muppet?

‘Not necessarily bad news’ always means, ‘it’s not bad for me, but you won’t like it.’ Funky is right to sniff doom. On the other hand, a good whiff of Funky right now probably smells like moldy dog and onions. He sniffs doom with every inhale.