…starts today, as Westview High School’s CCTV news program announces Bull’s retirement to the student body. I don’t know what to call it anymore, though, because apparently either Tom or his Sunday Artist Intern is spelling the title “The Bleet” nowadays. So, what do you think? Is T-Bats slipping in mistakes like this intentionally to screw around with the snark community, or is he just going a little soft in the noggin?
Since we’re talking about The Bleat/Bleet, say hello to Bernie Silver who seems to have inherited the anchor’s chair from Owen. And since he reports that the official retirement sendoff will be on Friday, we can probably expect the entirety of next week to depict =- or at least talk about – said ceremony.
So, we’ve got Bull’s retirement, a new anchor, and a stupid typo. Other than that, this is pretty much your typical mediocre Sunday throw-away, just like last week with Funky’s leafy hairline. I can’t help thinking, though, that Tom is setting Bull up for a fall. Look at Les in panel three. That filthy, squint-eyed, lifted-eyebrow smirk. He knows something, that smug fuccboi. I’m starting to hate Dick Facey as much as Epicus Doomus does.
I admit it, I’ve always kind of liked Bull. How can you hate a guy who has a history of kicking Les’ ass? But beyond that, he’s always been the kind of “guy next door” that I might have been friends with…not too smart, but good at what he does; takes a joke pretty well; doesn’t carry a grudge or live in the past; owns up to his mistakes and takes the consequences. And today, faced with a pretty grim diagnosis, he says “the hell with it” and decides to retire and enjoy himself while there’s still a “self” inside that damaged skull.
Best wishes, Bull. Hope it works out for you…even though I suspect your creator is going to eventually pull the rug out from under you.
Today, Bull learns that there is nothing modern medical science can do about his Classic CTE except…I dunno, some unspecified “things.” And although Bull can’t count the number of concussions he’s suffered, someone should tell him there’s still time to share a few more with Les. Just for old times’ sake.
So today’s strip confirms what the SoSF community has been speculating all along – Bull has CTE. Maybe. See, what Batty isn’t saying is that CTE can’t really be diagnosed until a post-mortem examination of the brain is made during autopsy.
There’s hope for Bull yet, though. Funky’s dad Mort has made a remarkable recovery from the vegetative state he was in when Funks dumped him into Bedside Manor. Dinkle stopped being deaf when our backs were turned, as Dinkles often do. And don’t forget Wally: he came back from Afghanistan with PTSD and without the ability to recognize faces and look at him now, all goin’ to school an’ sayin’ hi to folks he recognizes and carving out a normal life with a hot redhead who seems to have conveniently forgotten about her kid.
(With all that miraculous healing going on in Westview, the Lourdes of Ahia, you have to wonder how poor Becky feels about the arm that stubbornly refuses to grow back.)
So, after months of mood swings, violent outbursts, and memory loss, Bull finally admits to Linda today that he “needs to see someone.”
I find it hard to believe that everyone around Bull has noticed his decline and openly discussed his symptoms and yet no one has bothered to investigate what all of this might mean. I think part of the reason his characters are so unlikable is because they are so damned stupid.
If this does turn out to be a long-term story about CTE, we should have some kind of pool to predict how long it takes T-Bats to make another Pulitzer attempt by having Bull commit suicide.
In today’s action-packed segment, we see Bull fly off the handle after a bad call. The Scapegoats are probably like 3rd and 50, it’s no wonder Coach is so tense.
Also this guy. What the hell is going on with his shoulder? Is his arm growing out of the side of his neck or something? And aren’t penalty flags yellow? Maybe the ref is surrendering so Bull will back off.
Hello there, fellow snarkers! HeyItsDave here, back from hiatus with more Funky Felt Tip adventures.
Yesterday, the leaves in town were falling as fast as Funky’s hair, hopefully without leaving some kind of nasty clog that Holly will have to dig out of the sink trap later. And falling leaves in Funky Winkerbean always mean that we’ll be segueing into some kind of melodramatic tale of woe.
I was really hoping that this week was going to stay focused on Frankie and Lenny. They’re like the Funkyverse version of Pokemon’s Team Rocket – all nefarious and blackhearted and always tripping over their own goddamn feet. But no, today we’re back in Westview to watch Bull Bushka descend into concussion-induced madness. What is it with T-Bats and autumn, anyway? Seems like as soon as the foliage turns he starts obsessing about decay and death. And maybe domestic abuse, given Linda’s face in panel three.
Speaking of decline, is Tommy farming out some of the drawing duties here? I detect a distinct stylistic difference between the way background extras are usually drawn and the way this crowd is rendered.