Harnessing The Weak Force

Link To Today’s Installment

Finally, an in-depth look into the inner workings of a legendary comic book bullpen. It’s about damn time, too. I honestly had no idea that this is how they do it. I assumed the comic book writers and artists would sit around brainstorming, sketching and spitballing ideas around the room in a Red Bull and Skittles-fueled frenzy. But it turns out it’s really just two somewhat slow-witted morons slowly bungling their way into the foundation of a barely-passable premise. I have to imagine that they fill in the details after. I wonder how many other comic writers of note use that approach?

This is some really, really bad dialog right here. It reads like it was randomly generated, which I suppose it sort of was, in a manner of speaking. It’s just amazing how he can take a personal passion (in this case, legendary comic book company bullpens) and just completely and totally drain every last morsel of humor, joy and fun out of it, leaving nothing but dull, mundane and often confusing banter.

This Call To The Bullpen Is Brought To You By Intense Ennui

Link To This One

Blurgh. You have got to be f*cking kidding me. Not these two tiresome codgers again, it’s just too damn soon. The way this Flash asshole emerged from nowhere to become one of the most-used characters in the strip is one of Act III’s most astonishing developments. Suddenly Flash is pretty much the brains behind the entire Atomix Komix operation, the ever-patient comic book sage who spins his pathetic colleagues’ pitiful ramblings into comic book gold. He just has this undying fascination with this kind of ridiculous comic book creator banter, like this is how people actually work.

The less said about that woeful Type Face gag, the better. I liked Phil better when he was a gruff, surly jerk, as opposed to the moronic buffoon he is now. I liked him best of all when he was still dead, of course, but that ship has sailed.

It’s All in the Brochure

Link to today’s strip.

So, Dinkle enjoys name-dropping, but mirabile visu, refrains from talking about his own OMEA triumphs. Somehow that panel must have been edited out by mistake. Or maybe Batiuk thought, “You know, I think I’ll give Becky a fourth line in this week-long story.” Wotta gentleman.

Of course, Dinkle loves to blow his own…horn, so I’m sure Becky has heard all of this multiple, multiple times. Funny how the actual band director rarely gets woven into these OMEA strips, except to purr how awesome Dinkle is. Ah, the woman’s lot in the Funkyverse: shoring up the menfolk.

Gad, a week of Les then a week of Dinkle. This has been quite a spell in the command chair. But at last we’re out, and Epicus Doomus takes over filling the bird feeder tomorrow. Imperious Rex!

Split the Dimwits

Link to today’s strip.

I really hate those smiles that split the characters’ faces. It’s supposed to imply that these people are just enjoying the heck out of Dinkle’s, uh, witticisms. But to me, it means these are people with severe brain damage. Even Larry Fine, there in the middle. They would smile this way no matter what they were looking at. But don’t worry, I’m sure their handler will be along presently to herd them back on to the correct bus. Huh, would that be “on to” or “onto”?

Their presence does have one advantage: it kept this episode from being a vertical sideways strip. The only thing that could make a Dinkle strip even more irritating.

And of course, with two days of him farting out only a word or two, the rising tide can no longer be contained, and we get an entire strip of logorrhea. Funny, I thought people excreted out the other end, but I guess Harry’s unique that way.

Candy and a Current Bun

Link to today’s strip.

More terribly-constructed writing. Let’s improve panel one.

I suppose Batiuk’s thought process was “Readers will want to know where the candy is. That’s vitally important for the strip to work.” Well, Tom, no it isn’t. People might wonder about the bowl of radioactive isotopes on the piano, but they’ll probably put it down to one of those things that Bizarro puts in his strip. (Looks like the isotopes have been hard at work, judging from the cactus-thing on the right.)

Also, does that mean that candy in other locations is fair game at any time? Although I bet they’re all those Circus Peanut things. Or mints that have been in a bowl so long they’ve become part of it.

I’m not sure how the system in panel two would work–the iPad doesn’t seem to be connected to the piano, and…ultimately, I don’t care. I bet Tom Batiuk doesn’t know how it works either. But we do get another sad Dinkle! Yeah!

And hey, someone remembered the photo corners this time.