“Wait, what’s that other book next to it?”
“Oh, that old thing? That’s just “Lisa’s Story”, the culmination of the life’s work of Tom Batiuk, the greatest writer of his generation.”
“Tom Batiuk? Oh yeah, we learned about him in ancient history class. He created such iconic characters as Ed Crankshaft, Phil Holt, and Adeela the Architect, right?”
“That’s right, dear! “Lisa’s Story” was the greatest love story ever told, and once you read it, your perception of what a comic strip can be will be forever changed.”
“Really? Because I always thought comic strips were supposed to be funny.” Continue reading →
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Tagged as birthday, books, bookstore, Fallen Star, garage, hatchet face, John Byrne, Lisa's Story, robots, snow, stairs, Summer, the future, the village booksmith, WTF
Harley the Custodian to Summer: “What you write about sparks others to build on it to create a science of behavioral-patterned algorithms that will one day allow us to recognize humanity as our nation!”
…and to burn down all the bookstores, apparently. Except for the Village Booksmith, which likely was spared because Lillian operated it as a bootleg enterprise located above a garage, where it escaped the bookstore burners’ notice. And as many of you have noticed, the “Skylar Aero” solar scooter that has transported these two to “the Outskirts” is the weird looking, bulbous spaceship that Phil Holt sketched for Skyler, and that Skyler’s dad had fabricated from a murder weapon into a toy for his son:
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Tagged as birthday, books, bookstore, garage, John Byrne, poorly-drawn rocketships, snow, stairs, the future, the village booksmith, WTF
So John Byrne and his annoying angular faces are back for the homestretch, eh? Well, you can put lipstick on a pig and so forth, but yadda yadda yadda get the f*ck out of here with this shit. He came up with a strip-ending premise…”Summer writes a history of Westview”…and THIS is where he ends up, in some distant futuristic future full of “solar scooters” and young women in 1960s go-go attire. Everything that happened up to this point? Completely meaningless. This is the culmination of decades of furious Batiuksturbation, right here. Ugh, I just made myself sick. Continue reading →
Today’s strip is a good example of why you should try and make sure your art and writing convey the same tone and mood. The writing makes it seem like Funky is supposed be cracking wise and attempting and failing to be funny. But his expression in second panel totally contradicts that. He just looks weary and exhausted, to the point where I would assume the original dialogue was “Why? I’m not going to live to see it.”.
And the nurse’s expressions throughout this strip are more “I’ll pray for you, since you’re trapped in a nightmare hell marriage” and less “Oy, your husband has a lame sense of humor”.
Maddest of mad props to billytheskink for the last two weeks’ posting. Billy’s broad knowledge of FW canon is matched only by his skill with haiku.
Today we see Marianne Winters and Mason chatting on set…’scuse me…what? Oh! Sorry: it’s some other blue-black bobbed babe chatting up Darin at a kid’s party. “Jessica tells me you’re an artist.” There’s no need for Darin’s “self-defectating” response: she’s not impressed to meet a hotshot Hollywood storyboard ace, but rather, dismayed at having wasted money on a caricaturist when she could’ve pressed her party guest into service for free. This insult goes right over distracted Darin’s head: he’s regarding the sketch artist at work, and pondering things like “Why does his face look so weirdly specific? Why is a professional artist working with a yellow #2 school pencil? Why would a professional artist draw a professional artist working with a yellow #2 school pencil?”