Son of Stuck Funky

Keeping up with The Johnsons

First of all, though many of you had criticisms of the few Crankshaft strips, I’ve been stunned that the last three (THREE) strips each at least got a smile outta me. From Granny J showing a bit of ankle, to Sunday’s supremely tolerable goose call, I can’t remember the last time I was able to give my stamp of “So Okay It’s Average!” to Crankshaft three days in a row. YMMV, of course, but I’m not gonna lie and say I didn’t find it amusing.

However, of note this week was this little exchange,

Was this strip funny? No, not really.

But it was a call back to a 35-year-old running gag, from the very beginning of the strip. Except it wasn’t the mother chasing the bus, it was the poor little tyke herself.

How do I know? Well I shelled out to get the first couple Crankshaft paperbacks a few months ago. I even had to buy the first one twice, because it shipped to my parents’ house. I noticed my parents’ laughing over it a few weeks later, and it’s disappeared into their stack of bathroom reading materials. I guess there’s no accounting for taste.

Because I’m genuinely wondering. Are these funny? Are they cruel? Are they somewhere in between? I am interested to hear your thoughts.

An Engaging Response.

Did you know Tom has an email newsletter? Randomly, months apart and with absolutely no schedule, a little update from Tom Batiuk shows up in my email inbox, because of course I’m on the mailing list! I can’t miss an important update!

Such as,

So is it life imitating art or the other way around? Whatever, if you were following Crankshaft in mid-July, you saw Crankshaft’s granddaughter Mindy and his son-in-law Jeff at SDCC (that’s cool code for people who don’t want to write out San Diego Comic-Con), along with Mindy’s boyfriend and soon to be fiancé (oops spoiler alert… ignore that) Pete Reynolds who’s a writer for Atomik Komix and proof positive that Funky characters would indeed begin showing up in Crankshaft.

I can’t tell you all, just how absolutely vibrating with anticipation and glee your dear CBH is to see the LONG AWAITED proposal of Pete Reynolds to Mindy Murdoch.

Stuck In The Middle (School) With You

“When I was in middle school and creating my own comic strips and comic books, I called my comic book “company” Batom Comics which was a play on my name.”

“Back when I was in middle age and doing regular daily posts at SoSF, I called Tom Batiuk “Batyam”, “BatBrain”, “Batty”, “BatHam”, “BanTom”, “Batty-Bat Bat Bat” and “Tommy Two-Shirts”, which were plays on his name.”

How fascinating! Why, I’d never made that connection before! Sigh. If these blog posts of his were any duller, you could use them to spread jam on toast. Just like the vast bulk of his work, it’s difficult to believe that he actually spent time on this post, or put any thought into it at all. He even makes his dearest passions boring.

Saturday’s Strip WAS Available For Preview.

Short post tonight, as I am still trying to digest all the amazing, thoughtful, literary discussions you nitters had on the last post. I kept on opening the reply tab, staring at the blinking cursor, but gradually realizing that someone else in the comments chain had already said it better than I had.

Thanks for all the kind words on the James Joyce parody. It really wasn’t as impressive as it sounded since I used the first chapter of the novel as a direct template, and only changed a few words per paragraph to turn it Funky. It’s 90% Joyce, 10% nonsense.

I am trying to organize my thoughts into something concise about Wally Vs DSH. Hope to get that out soon.

In the meantime, please enjoy the preview of Saturday’s Crankshaft I managed to hack out of GoComics.

Uselesses

Skeletal, pallid Wally Winkerbean came from the airport, bearing a face of woe on which a smirk and a frown lay crossed. A green dressuniform, hatless, was hung stiffly upon him on the mild afternoon air. He held the door ajar and intoned:

—Introibo ad altare Lisa.

Becky Blackburn Winkerbean Howard, displeased and sleepy, leaned her body on the seat of the parkbench and looked coldly at the shaking gurgling face that regarded her, equine in its length, and at the light closecropped hair, grained and hued like pale oak.