Link to today’s strip
“Dad, be serious, if I wanted a job that would pay me money I would have taken two months of Industrial Welding at Centerview Community College.”
Really rich coming from worthless English major magnate, Mr. Les ‘those who can’t, teach.’ Moore.
Also, if she’s interested in going into law, then majoring in sociology would have been fine. You can major in anything you want, as long as you keep your GPA up and pass you LSAT.
And don’t you dare disparage sociology! It’s a useless major alone but paired with a Master’s Degree she could become like my older sister, working at her state’s only inpatient mental health hospital for barely more than what an average desk drone makes. But she’s fulfilled.
Sociology made sense as Summer’s old major, what with her activism in high school. But I guess Batiuk has forgotten that, and decided to make her a tiny female clone of her father. I can’t wait for her first book about someone she knew who died.
Also, my best friend forever majored in English lit with a focus on creative writing, and her fanfictions of obscure video games have been very well reviewed! She leads the genre in likes!
She is also a desk drone. Not really using her degree to get paid. But still. Getting paid.
Well, at least the math is correct in today’s strip. Atomik Komix does indeed have only four titles (The Inedible Pulp, Rip Tide: Scuba Cop, Atomic Ape, and The Girl Scorch), all of which TB has lovingly rendered in big splashy Sunday strips… via guest artists.
What doesn’t add up is this need for more than four titles to do a crossover. TB does it with three comic strips, one of which hasn’t been printed in nearly 30 years. Even a non-crossover strip like this one has crossover elements – Pete is the child of John Darling character Reed Roberts. I suppose none of this is “Mega-Mind-Blowing-Everything-Will-Change”, but nothing that Pete and Durwood could come up with would be either.
Today’s strip was not available for preview, so we’re diving into the archives. What was going on in the Batiukverse on May 1, say, 40 years ago? I’ll bet it was some relatable high school stuff: dopey students, stuffy teachers, Billy Carter, M*A*S*H, Galaxian, disco, the second oil crisis… something, anything far removed from this ridiculous multi-week Free Comic Book Day arc.
Yes, the computer later known as “Holtron” temporarily replaced Les as Westview High School’s hall monitor, (retroactively cardboard) machine gun and all, because Les was so bad at the job. It mused about keeping Klingons from sneaking off to the restroom to smoke (Holtron was into Star Trek and, apparently, Brownsville Station) and threatened a hall pass-less Funky with the desk-mounted machine gun. What a time to be alive.
January 1, 2018 at 9:44 am
Why does it have to be a stupid acronym like ARID? Why not just use the real AA? You could publicize an organization that has actually done some good.
I suspected ARID’s clubhouse might be another Real Place in Ohio. When I Googled “ARID twelve and twelve,” the first result linked to a very outdated site, hosted at tripod.com and apparently the work of someone with a serious axe to grind with Alcoholics Anonymous. I won’t bother linking to it, out of my personal respect for AA and other twelve step programs (which the “ARID Site” dismisses as “recovery cultism”). A little more searching turned up the “Akron Arid Club”, an AA group which according to the Beacon Journal closed in 2011. The location still can be seen in Google Street view; other than being made of bricks, the building bears no resemblance to Monday’s exterior.
Now that we’ve cleared that up…Funky frets that his son and prospective daughter-in-law, two Army vets who met while clearing landmines in Afghanistan, may have difficulty dealing with today’s political climate. He should be more concerned about Cigarette Guy, whose plume of smoke threatens to cloud the whole room.
Link to today’s strip.
I hope none of you are fans of the blues or rockabilly, because you’re about to watch the things you enjoy become tainted with Harry Dinkle, and you’ll never get any pleasure from them again. I’m guessing Batiuk took a vacation to Memphis recently, and we’re all going to pay.
I don’t know what kind of a monster that is in panel one, but it appears to be wearing Mort Winkerbean’s skin. What godawful drawing–Burchett should be ashamed. Contrast that with Dinkle’s face in panel two–he gets the full “handsome” treatment, as well as a little action whip-around.
By slicing out a quarter of Mort’s face–
–he actually looks like a person. I’d like to think that Burchett drew him more like this, and Batiuk said “Damn it, Burchett, how dare you draw any character other than Les, Dinkle and Lisa as a normal human being!! I want all those sons-o-bitches looking like a non-human monster! Just like all the women should be fat and frowsy with Muppet faces!!! Do you like getting paid?! Cut it up and do it over!!”
What a loathsome thing Dinkle is–as I’ve said way too many times, of all the cast in this miserable comic, Dinkle is the one I hate the most. He always triumphs, he’s always praised, and always beloved. He’s one of the reasons this strip will never be noteworthy.
Sosfdavido here, and whaddya know, what looked like a pudgy, older white guy finally turns around to reveal a pudgy, older white guy! Now even Tombat’s most rabid fans are scratching their heads and checking the archives to see if the guy rendered fairly lifelike in today’s panel 3 was actually a character or someone pulled out of thin air.
Given the level of detail compared to most of the melting-dough faced citizens of Westview I’m betting it’s yet another character based on an actual person. Whether said person is thrilled to be depicted in such a bleak comic is a whole other matter.
Linda, in panel 2, meanwhile, looks like she just got interrupted in the middle of a 2 day nitrous oxide binge. He could have introduced himself as Mr. Ed the Talking Horse and she’d probably be just as non-plussed.
Members of any band under the baton of “Noble” laureate Harry Dinkle are compelled to support the enterprise by going door to door peddling turkeys, books, and that sweet, sweet Belgian chocolate. Even a member who uses a walker and who several years ago couldn’t recognize his own son.