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.
Banned Director
Dinkle gleefully tells Crazy Harry and Richard Nixon of that time when he made such a nuisance of himself that the builders of the new Westview High School had to resort to extraordinary measures to be rid of him.
Below is a strip (date unknown, likely from Act II) illustrating why the contractor was justified in kicking Harry’s ass off the site:
Flat Line
I liken today’s joke (if it exists at all) to a tiny object that someone wants to safely ship over a great distance via parcel post. The sender acquires a large and sturdy box, and places the object in it, and for protection, surrounds the tiny object with styrofoam peanuts, excelsior, and wadded-up pages from the Plain Dealer. Then the sender seals the box shut with reinforced tape, and brings it to the post office to send it on its way. The parcel is delivered, and the recipient cuts open the tape, pries open the box, and has to rummage through the worthless filler material in search of the contents. Finally his fingers grasp what must be the tiny object. He pulls it from its packaging, holds it up and inspects it, and wonders aloud, “This is it?”
Really, a lot of these strips can be compared to that mystery box. The joke contained therein (“liquid sound“?) is so small, weak and obscure that it’s almost impossible to identify. Who rates hotels on a musical scale, and why is “B flat” apparently mediocre? Many marching band instruments are pitched in B♭.
And finally, when is Funky going to take off that fake beard?
Bore Stories
To me, “shop talk” consists of discussing shared experiences and common aspects of one’s profession with others in that same profession. This, this is just a bunch of old men, not just pissing and moaning but trying to outdo one another’s tale of woe. Similar to, though not one iota as funny as, Monty Python’s “Four Yorkshiremen” sketch:
First Yorkshireman: In them days we was glad to have the price of a cup o’ tea.
Second Yorkshireman: A cup o’ cold tea.
Fourth Yorkshireman: Without milk or sugar.
Third Yorkshireman: Or tea.
First Yorkshireman: In a cracked cup, an’ all.
Fourth Yorkshireman: Oh, we never had a cup. We used to have to drink out of a rolled up newspaper…
Faculty Losing Faculties
Continuing the segue from goofy band gags to wry observations, Harry smirkingly muses about mortality and decline.
Son of Stuck Funky 