Son of Stuck Funky – Page 512 – Son of Stuck Funky

First Thing You Learn Is That You Always Gotta Wait

So, Funky and Holly are off to a “super clinic” which, in the limited research I did, is a place where they focus less on treating disease and more on maintaining health. Given that they are two of the unhealthiest looking people in the strip, this is probably a good idea, but it’s also a given that Funky would rather eat donuts than exercise so I’m not sure why he’s concerned about his health at all.

This episode is a very good example of a three-panel strip being stretched past the breaking point to fit it into a Sunday slot. Tom Batiuk could easily have used some of those panels to explain the context beyond “annual physicals.” An “annual physical” sounds like something a local doctor could do–why are they flying to Dallas for this? Why Dallas in particular? Gotta get to that 50th, I guess.

Is Cory still living with them? I guess so. Being in the army must have hardened him to withstand the tub of misery and failure that is Funky; I’m pretty sure I couldn’t stay in the same house with that guy. The negativity would make me wish my health would deteriorate rapidly. If he is living with them, wouldn’t he already know about this trip? You know, like, several weeks ago they could have told him they were going to be out of town, he was going to be on his own for a few days, things like that.

Actually, I can fully believe that no one in this house talks to anyone else. It just seems out of whack to be the normal state.

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…sorry about that. This strip is so boring I fell asleep and knocked my head on the keyboard. Say, do you suppose that’s how Tom Batiuk comes up with his jokes?

The Man Who Knew To Munch

Link to today’s strip.

Wow, that Dr. Harry L. Dinkle character sure is multi-talented! Here’s the third seminar he’s chaired during this convention, and each one has been on a different subject. In the first he taught some infants how to conduct, in the second he taught people how to be colossal dicks, and here he’s…wait a minute. “Band Candy Fundamentals”?! Seriously? Could there possibly be an entire clinic devoted to band candy?

Or–and stay with me here–or is this an actual joke? About how there are all these clinics and symposia and seminars, and a lot of them are just trivial and could easily be replaced by simple common sense?

I’m going to go with “that is the joke.” Because the actual words in Dinkle’s mouth in that last panel make no sense to me–though the folks in the front row seem to find it hilarious…in a kind of sinister way, I must note. “Conflict Chocolate.” I’m guessing it’s a pun based on something, though that particular something eludes me. A movie or TV show, maybe, or some specialized band conductor’s magazine. Or some long forgotten Superman comic book–or better yet, a story from The Flash.

I sure hope this is it for a while from Harry L. Dinkle, PhD. I’ll give the week this much credit: out of all the strips comprising Harry’s visit to the OMEA, only one had someone praising Dinkle. That’s got to be a first. Thank you, Tom Batiuk, for that Herculean level of restraint. I hope it didn’t hurt too much.

Pizzacato

Link to today’s strip.

Dr. Harry L. Dinkle, professional dumbass. Just yesterday in real-time, but just a few minutes ago in strip-time, he discussed pizza as a fundraising tool–especially how you can use someone else’s pizza to make them miserable. And now he’s astonished to find pizza itself on the convention floor? Well, apparently he can’t remember anything for more than a few seconds. I guess that’s why he’s not following his own advice and churlishly reading the pamphlet.

One thing I am curious about–is this particular strip supposed to be funny? Or poignant? Or educational? Does it serve any purpose whatsoever except as one more step on the way to the 50th? Because I’ll be damned if I can find any content in this at all.

I don’t have any hatred for Tom Batiuk–in fact, I wish him all the luck in the world with his work. I just wish he’d try every now and then. But all the strips in recent months just seem to be one big nothing after another big nothing. It’s difficult for me to even get angry at the strip–it’s just so boring, such a squandered opportunity. He could tell interesting stories with this cast if he didn’t (apparently) believe that everything has to be miserable to be taken seriously.

What’s so great about being taken seriously?

Oh well. How about another Crankshaft! Funny how my phone hasn’t rung with an offer yet.

Cruel to be Kind

Link to today’s strip.

Well, today’s episode is quite “meta.” Dinkle here is advising people–and there’s no sugarcoating this–to be colossal dicks. His advice is downright mean–much nastier than just grabbing food and leaving. What a truly rotten human being. Again, the eternal question: this is supposed to be funny? That person in the front row sure seems to find it amusing.

I bet when he dines out, Dinkle pretends to calculate a tip for several minutes before leaving nothing. While smirking to himself over his cleverness.

No surprise with any of that, but what’s curious is that Dinkle is apparently chairing a seminar of how to behave at a convention…during the same convention. I have never heard of such a thing, and can’t imagine any use for it. It’s not like an orientation thing–“Welcome to the convention, here’s what to expect, here’s the schedule of events, here’s where the bathrooms are.”

No, this seems to be specifically how to be a colossal dick. So…I guess they got the right guy to run this one!

What I’d like to know–

–is, why is “Fundamentals” written with an apostrophe? That usually implies ownership of something. Now, “Convention Fundamental’s Favorite Pompous Ass” would work –why, it would work beautifully.

Thursday’s Crankshaft has far to go:

Pain as the Nose on Your Face

Link to today’s strip.

As the comic books say, “What th–?”

“On the nose” means “with great precision.” In other words, this comic has characters saying “I thought your talk was very precise,” and the other responding, “No, it was very scattered and vague.” So, Dinkle is saying he’s a talentless loser who wastes everyone’s time. Given yesterday’s strip, I can certainly agree with that! C’mon, Becky, you should pop that old coot with your patented left hook! Oh wait.

Now, if, in an alternate reality, “on the nose” meant “barely touching something,” then yes, that describes his clinic perfectly. And thus the comic makes a tiny bit of sense, with Dinkle responding, “No, I was more thorough than that.” But that makes Becky’s remark kind of insulting–and we certainly can’t have that if Dinkle is involved. But not to worry, “on the nose” doesn’t mean that, so no one is dissing Dinkle! Cancel the panic!

If a person is really determined to base his comic strip around word-play, then he needs to get that aspect done correctly. One cannot just take a phrase like “on the nose” and think, What other body parts can I use to make a pun? and just settle on the first thing that pops to mind. Making a good pun–and there are such beasts, from time to time–requires thought.

So, if Becky said Dinkle’s chat was “on the nose” he could say, “too bad, I was aiming for the brain,” then that could work as word-play. Admittedly, it took me half a minute to come up with that, and maybe Tom Batiuk just doesn’t have that kind of time available.

A while ago I suggested that we get together and buy Tom Batiuk a dictionary. I’m thinking now some kind of book on puns would be useful, too–maybe this one?

And here’s Wednesday’s Crankshaft! I’m telling you, that writing job is practically mine.