Bedside Manor – Page 7 – Son of Stuck Funky

Candy Crush

So, the evil internet, with its Twitter Tots, Internuts and beady eyed nitpickers has come to the rescue of the Bedside Manor oldsters? I wonder what changed in Tom Batiuk’s worldview, to admit that the internet actually has some use… No, not really–actually, I wonder how we’re going to be shown what didn’t change, as we watch the oldsters fall victim to web hucksterism, and see their accrued cash disappear into some bitcoin Hell, along with their crushed dreams of release from Dinkle. Dinkle, of course, will be there, smirking to beat the band (yes, that’s intentional) and telling them how he knew this was going to happen. But while he is a god of wrath, he can be merciful. All they have to do is put themselves back into his hands. There’s still time to sell band candy, he’ll purr.

…you know, I may have been doing this Funky Winkerbean commentary thing way too long. The idea of something genuinely positive happening to someone other than Les Moore–that idea seems to automatically reject itself. The fact that it was the oldsters themselves who came up with this scheme, and NOT Harry Dinkle, seems to doubly condemn the oldsters to the sourest of outcomes.

I honestly had no idea that cynicism, by which I mean my cynicism, could be this deep, and this broad. It’s no wonder I paint nothing but skulls, lately.

Speaking of which, does anyone know who “Connie” is? I assume she’s the drummer, but I get lost when the characters here are only named when medical emergencies prevent them from doing their due Dinkle diligence. I do know one of them is named Carl, but only because he was a wuss and nearly died.

Oh, well…at least Tom Batiuk ended this one in two frames, because it looks like Mort/Violin player are starting to get a bit randy in panel two, and that’s rather more than I need to see. It doesn’t help with the cynicism thing at all.

We’re Not Gonna Take It

Link to today’s strip.

Oh joy, it’s Dinkle again. While Mort’s open rebellion against Dinkle’s iron rule is certainly welcome, it doesn’t mitigate the fact that we’re dealing with Dinkle.*

I guess back in 1972, recording an album was probably prohibitively expensive for a small ensemble. Nowadays, even the cheapest laptop can do so (provided it comes with a CD/DVD drive–which is actually becoming scarce on a lot of computers). Most laptops come with a microphone, and software is included on both Windows and Mac systems to record audio and burn it to CD. That’s all you need if you want to get a “live” sounding recording, which is what I suspect Dinkle is after. Oh, and you’ll need a blank CD. Which are pretty much available everywhere–I’ve seen them for sale in grocery stores.

Now, if you want to record separate instruments and add effects, that’s going to cost money, right? Eh, depends. Nice mixers with built-in effects can be pretty inexpensive, and as for software, well, there’s Audacity which comes with a hefty price tag of “free.” Oh, Audacity has a definite learning curve, but what are these old people going to do with their time anyway? If it gets too tough, have them smoke some cigarettes until their brains engage again. I’ve used Audacity extensively for my own animations and after a while, it’s pretty easy.

I’ve gone on at length about recording because I’m trying to ignore the “storyline” on display here. This was a stupid idea when it was first introduced and it hasn’t improved since. I don’t have a problem with the Bedside Manor band itself; I actually think it’s a great idea to get old people engaged in an activity like this. But now that the strip is all wish-fulfillment all the time, I’m going to guess that this arc will conclude with the CD being a runaway best-seller and Dinkle being offered the presidency of Columbia Records or some damned thing.

Or, more likely, it’ll be dropped and next Sunday will be Funky and Les jogging. Get to the 50th anniversary, but don’t unmoor too many of those boats on the way.

* That should be the album title, “Dealing with Dinkle.” Tragedy and unflinching fate in three words.

Skin Flakes, Phlegm and Excrement for Color

Link to today’s strip.

So, everyone wanted to see Crankshaft, probably in the futile hope that his demise would be depicted onscreen.

Well, here’s Crankshaft. He looks like a plastic bag filled with pus trying to decide if gravity is worth resisting any longer.

Tom Batiuk keeps trying to shove Crankshaft down our throats. And it never works. No one cares about Crankshaft, it has never generated any interest in anyone to watch it unfold. I suspect it’s a very low performer, newspaper-wise, and perhaps Mr. Batiuk is trying to shovel his legacy over there now that he has destroyed Funky Winkerbean. But that’s like trying to choose between a burning building and a sea full of sharks.

And to be honest, the fact that Mindy seeks the approval of the Old, Unplaceable Odor makes her a truly terrible person. At least Pm N Jff recognize that Crankshaft is something to be tolerated, not cultivated.

But The Grandfather

Link to today’s strip.

Pete looks utterly distraught in that last panel–Oh, my God! She’s making me meet her grandfather! Well, this relationship is over…too bad, I thought it might have worked, but no, she’s gotta bring in the grandfather….

I can’t think of any other explanation for the expression oozing off his face–unless he once had a dream that he would die at the hands of some girl’s grandfather, and all of this is exactly like that dream….

The point is, he sure doesn’t look happy at all about this, and it’s worrying him to the point where he doesn’t even notice Mindy’s transformation into a 1960’s toothpaste advertisement.

Iris is Irie

If Carl’s breathing apparatus in yesterday’s strip was some kind of sympathy ploy, it didn’t seem to help him sell any candy. Today Carl’s traded his nasal cannula for his horn, and is looking a little more chipper and a little less prone to drop dead at any second. Not only does that bastard Dinkle force them to peddle “Raisin’ the” bars to finance their CD, the Manorisms rehearsals have been known to last well past the typical nursing home bedtime. I don’t think medical marijuana is strictly legal yet in Ohio; in any case I think Iris and the boys would need something a little stronger to put up with Dinkle.