The Retiring Type

Crazy Harry’s “retired”? That seems a little different from “cancelled“. Although in either circumstance, one would expect that there would be a pension, severance, even unemployment benefits that would make it unnecessary for Crazy to have to sell all his books. And selling them to John, who passed on buying Pete’s collection because he couldn’t afford it? Crazy might do better trading in his SUV in favor of a tiny Batiukmobile® like everyone else in town drives. With Maddie away at Kent, and his two younger children missing and presumed dead, what does he need with that gas guzzler?

Lend Me Your (Dog) Ears

Beanie Wanker
December 6, 2012 at 7:22 am
…With Crazy Harry and his “library,” [Batiuk] aims for “quirky,” but hits “mentally ill.” Only a mere quarter inch away, in the Land of Reality, a guy who starts talking like Harry here would be brought in for psychiatric evaluation. I expect him to start carrying on conversations with these books, and maybe having sex with a couple of them.

And with that in mind, just be glad that today’s comic is only one panel…

Tea Crazy

Our friend Roland” refers to a character who appeared in the very first Funky Winkerbean strip in March of ’72:

I don’t when he disappeared from the strip (or what happened to Livinia). I suppose his function in the early days of FW was to provide a little Doonesbury-esque topical humor. His radical views, of course, did not extend to Playboy magazine (va-va-va-VOOM!), which is why he did not bequeath to Crazy Harry any Betty Friedan or Susan Sontag.

Remember all those strips where Crazy Harry held forth about his conservative beliefs? Me neither. In order to wring another weak punchline out of the Harry Sells His Library premise, Batiuk, out of the blue, assigns a right-wing political view to the presumed former stoner. I’m just thankful that Batiuk didn’t have Crazy identify himself as a “teabagger“.

You’re Fired, Kurt Vonnegut

“Increasingly painful” is a pretty apt description of this week’s arc. Crazy Harry doubles down on the imaginary CEO concept, and is compelled to give the old heave-ho to a raft of brilliant authors, any one of which, on his worst day, could write circles around Tom Batiuk.

It’s unseemly enough to have a suddenly unemployed adult decide to sell his books instead of searching for another job. But this whole transference thing, with the displaced worker assuming the role of CEO in his mind, and summarily issuing “walking papers” to his prized possessions, is just weird. Funky had best break down right now and offer him that Montoni’s gig, because this is getting to be re-God-damn-diculous.