Tag Archives: awards

Medal of Horror

Today’s strip marks the third straight day that Dinkle is doing his eyes-closed, head tilted back, mouth-agape, peacocking thing… which I think we can all agree is seven days too many. Hopefully we can also all agree that the poetic tire fire that is “I believe this is the first time a man’s crew-neck undershirt has been seen in the choir loft!” is a sentence that is just too perfectly execrable to exist. Yet it does exist.

Yes, we have here a call back here to Dinkle’s May 2017 trip to Belgium, where he was showered with unearned praise, given this unbearably punny-named medal, and stood in front of TB’s uncredited tracing of the legendary Hergé’s work. I’m not wordly enough to know if the Belgians hate us, but I can’t blame them if they do…


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My Dinkle-ing, My Dinkle-ing…

Twenty Twenty One may be just getting blessedly underway, but Our Winter Band Banquet is drawing to a close. I’m praying for Covid to finally reach Westview, Ohio soon, so that all those dopey, knowing smirks will be obscured by masks. Continue reading


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If only I could believe that Cayla’s question in today’s strip truly represented some self-awareness from TB, because YES! why didn’t Mason lead with this inevitable smoke-blowing? Sure, STILL nothing has actually happened, but we’ve wasted several days of strips even getting to Mason’s effusive and unwarranted praise, a scene we all knew was coming before this movie thing got to the point where Les could start trying to undermine specific elements of it.

As far as Mason’s opinion of Lisa’s Story goes, why would he think it would succeed in winning an Oscar where the beloved film Love Story (which, incidentally, turns 50 years old this year) largely failed. Does Love Story simply not exist in the Batiukverse? I guess I could buy that, given that this is a universe where Lisa’s Story was an Eisner Award finalist. But will Mason be satisfied with just a nomination or a Golden Globe? …or, more appropriately, a Razzie?


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Let Us Now Praise Famous Ninnies

Link to today’s strip.

Wow, everyone is sure full of praise for themselves!  Even waiter Barrithuh Hatchetface is smirking to beat the band.   Too bad their praise is so misplaced.

Director:  We’ll sit in chairs and chat, and I’ll only ask you questions you can preen about.  Thus, later, I’ll be surprised by very basic career information about you.

Videographer:   I’ll shoot this chair-bound set with a hand-held camera!

Subject:  I threw away over seventy years of my life so I could have a snit-fit.

BuddyBlog:  What kind of crap is this?  Damn, it’s a good thing my dad is rich…I think.

Emmy awards committee person A:  Oh my God, this is so terrible.  I think we finally have a winner for the “Most Pathetic, Pitifully Bad Production – Documentary” award someone added as a joke.

Emmy awards committee person B:  You mean the “Please Just Stop, or At Least Try Next Time” award?  Won’t that make the ceremony longer?


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Tuna Melt

Link to today’s strip.

I was gonna title this one “I Melt With You” but someone (TFH himself it turns out) already thought of that, so I had to fall back and punt.  The reason for using “melt” should be obvious from the artwork: these people are dissolving before our eyes into some kind of primordial slime.   And worse, it’s because they’re laughing so hard at Becky’s…wit.

Ever notice that when one of Batiuk’s favored characters says something intended as a joke, the crowd dissolves into paroxysms of uncontrolled laughter?  Yet when one of his hated characters says something that’s actually funnier, those characters are met with a stony silence iced with contempt.

Of course you’ve noticed.  It’s one of the hallmarks of this strip, now that it has morphed fully into the “revenge on those who failed to appreciate me” Legion of Doom.

In melting news, look at Mr. and Mrs. Pinkenpurple in panel two.*   This, ladies and gentlemen, is some damn bad art.  But it’s in the cause of making Becky look great!

Which makes it even worse, in my opinion.

As for the “tuna” part of my title, well, they’re talking about food and tuna is a food so there you go.  I’ll admit the level of work I put into this one approaches Batiukian levels. But…I’m writing about Batiukan stuff!  So it turns out to be all “meta” and like that, and my check better clear at the local Sprawl Mart, or there’ll be trouble in guest-hosting land!

Speaking of bad art, when folks ask me about my college career, I tell them “I got a degree in fine arts…gateway to the restaurant business!”  Meaning I got a lot of jobs as a busboy and stuff.  I think my joke is better than Becky’s on the same theme, though I’ll admit mine’s only a tiny bit better.

*Fun fact:  I was going to call them Mr. and Mrs. Goodnplenty because I thought Good N Plenty candy was pink and purple.  In fact, I would have sworn that was the case.  But they’re not, they’re pink and white…unless I’m a victim of the Mandela Effect.


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That Dismal Season

Link to today’s strip.

You know who else is having a dismal season?  A comic strip called Funky Winkerbean.  Of course, this is the normal state of this strip, so this isn’t news to anyone.

Today’s strip illustrates–or rather, doesn’t illustrate–one of the many problems this strip parades like virtues: people talking about something that sounds funny long after the fact, while never showing any of it.  I think showing the basketball team attempting to maneuver around stacks of mattresses could have been an absurd and memorable highlight for this strip.   Instead, it’s just tossed out on its own so that we can have three panels of a bloviating author avatar.

Of course, actually showing that scene would emphasize the main problem:  if the gym was stuffed with mattresses, both teams would be equally handicapped.

Still, it would be fun to watch it unfold.  I also think it could be, um, what’s that word I can never think of when I’m thinking of Funky Winkerbean?

Oh yeah.  Funny.

Speaking of art, I like the perspective in panel one, but what in the heck is that behind Becky that looks like a pile of burnt sticks?  Is that supposed to be her shadow?  If so, how come Dinkle gets an ordinary Ben-Day shadow and she gets a scribble?

Maybe it is a pile of burnt sticks and they’re supposed to be awards?  That sounds amusing, so there’s no way that can be it.


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And when the door was opened, there was nothing standing there

Link to today’s strip.

Let me just say  that my mention of “hospital” yesterday was just errant speculation due to the recent shuffling of artists.  I, and I’m sure I speak for everyone else in the SoSF community, sincerely hope nothing bad has befallen Tom Batiuk; I have never, ever wished anything  but good fortune to him personally.  As I’ve mentioned from time to time, from all reports he’s a genuinely nice guy who enjoys meeting his fans; I hope he continues to be so, and do so, for many years to come.

That said…today’s episode is…well, I was going to say “beyond awful,” but I’ll go with “inexplicable” instead.  There’s no joke, there’s no good drawing, no wit, just…nothing at all.  It’s impossible to imagine a new reader coming across this strip and saying, “Hey, this is a comic strip I’m going to read from now on, with relish!”  It’s very possible to imagine a long-time reader saying, “Okay, this is it, I’m out of here.  From now on, it’s BC Classic for me.”

The only positive bit at all is the fact that Dinkle is there, and he’s completely silent.  I bet he hates that.  He’s not even drawn fully, he’s just a menace in a left corner.

It’s also another avenue for speculation.  Ordinarily, it would be Dinkle saying all this stuff, while Becky gazed at him in full worship mode.  (Heck, I think the last time we even saw Becky, she was a silent potato at Wally’s wedding.)

Why this obvious scenario was flipped, we’ll probably never know.


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One-Armed Bandit

Link to today’s strip.

Ugh.  Batiuk’s characters are never worse than when they’re being smug and self-satisfied.  Here Becky crows about the utterly stupid mattress sale, only to get to a pun that would be rejected by a chewing gum wrapper.  And look at that writing:  “our band” in panel two could have been replaced by “the” for a much smoother read.  It’s like he really does think his readers will forget the band’s involvement between panel one and two.

As for Becky, I can’t think of a single positive aspect of her except one:  she’s rarely around much.

Once again Chuck Ayers helms the pencils, leaving me to wonder if Batiuk’s in the hospital or something and the syndicate is having to rustle up some leftovers he had salted away.  Or maybe Rick Burchett, having gotten his “Inedible Pulp” cover, decided he was better than this and decamped to brighter pastures.



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It’s Monday

Link to today’s strip.

Monday’s strip, like Sunday’s before it, was not available for preview.

Why not enjoy some Pringles while we wait?


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