TFHackett

…Said Nobody, Anywhere, Ever

Charles
February 26, 2013 at 7:27 pm
…in contrast to Les, [Linda’s] appearances don’t really do anything. At least with Les you have this often hilarious negative reaction. With Linda, it’s much more tiresome, with the primary reaction usually being boredom.

Holy Toledo, am I starting to hate, hate this comic strip. Having failed to get laughs yesterday with a stroke gag, Batiuk ratchets up the level of discomfort considerably by equating the away team’s “good state of mind” and competitive spirit with… hemorrhagic fever?

Stroke-a-Bull

OK, two things: Fred’s stroke took place six weeks ago. In “strip time”, it’s probably been even longer, as he’s recuperated sufficiently to move back home. So Fred’s stroke should be news to no one. Yet Cayla blankly asks “Where’s Ann tonight?” Linda doesn’t even take her eyes off the court to answer. “Ann’s husband…you know, Fred? Fred Fairgood? The former principal of the high school where you work? Your husband’s former colleague? Fred? Had a stroke.” Batiuk tops off this clunky dialogue parfait with a delicious dollop of stroke humor: “I always thought my ineffectual, incoherent, useless husband would be rendered even more ineffectual, incoherent, and useless by a stroke, and sooner rather than later.”

Waiting on the Levy

We finally leave behind the music educators convention to get back to something we all know and loathe: Les, Cayla and perennial third wheel Linda taking in a girls’ women’s basketball game. Aaaaand we get the annual school levy begathon. “If the new school levy doesn’t pass”, I think Westview’s staff would be worse than “decimated”…do they even have ten teachers?

Fail Well

Q. Why has Harry Dinkle never been circumcised?
A. Because there’s just no end to that prick!

Me
Yesterday
Those of us here in the real world can freely express our joy over the fact that the Dinkles appear to be exiting the convention at last…

Yeah, I was wrong, we’re still at the convention. For once, Batiuk leaves exposition aside, trusting the reader to know that we are at Harry’s book signing (we don’t see a lobby card that says “‘I NEVER PROMISED YOU A ROSE PARADE’ AUTHOR HARRY DINKLE TODAY 1 PM”).

The first young person we’ve seen in two weeks meekly approaches the wise Dinkle (and hey, Harry gets no long line of adoring fans?). She expresses to Harry her desire to teach, and in the next breath reveals her crushing self-doubt. Harry parries by telling her to “err on the side of confidence”, which Sally Student clearly lacks. Finally, with a wag of his pen, Harry advises her that while she probably will fail, to make sure that she fails for the right reasons.

Symphony for the Dinkle

Stupid question, Harriet. It’s never about having “a good time with your friends.” In the Funkiverse, every happy occasion only serves to remind us of our mortality and human frailty. It’s that “undercurrent of melancholy” that permeates every aspect of life in Westview, the place where people hide their happiness lest they tempt cruel fate. Those of us here in the real world can freely express our joy over the fact that the Dinkles appear to be exiting the convention at last, but not before Harry squeezes out one last tortured musical metaphor.