Tag Archives: bitter resignation

It’s not even a proper hip. It’s polystyrene.

Today’s strip FINALLY gets to the point, if indirectly and dishonestly. Despite his protesting, Crazy doesn’t really want to be hip… He’s not sad that he doesn’t have the time or energy to keep up with what’s popular on the radio Spotify these days, he’s sad that listening to new music would require a modicum of effort from him. He’s sad because he has decided he wouldn’t enjoy listening to anything new even though he hasn’t even tried.

In short, he’s sad that what’s “hip” doesn’t conform to what he already likes.

Well if that isn’t this comic strip in a nutshell…


Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Where Dreams Go to Be Smashed to Flinders

Link to today’s strip.

One thing I neglected to mention about yesterday’s episode…and I have to confess, I didn’t mention it because it seemed so ordinary that comment never occurred to me.  But later I realized that it was ordinary in the real world, and not in Funky Winkerbean.   In Funky Winkerbean, it was the proverbial sore thumb, and it shoulda stuck out like one.

Of course, I’m talking about the fact that Becky got a smart-phone app, and she was happy with it.  She was pleased with what she got, and looked forward to using it.

It was not, repeat not, something substandard that had foisted upon her by an uncaring school administration.  She didn’t even moan once!

By way of contrast, look upon the Dozing Dullards out in Hollywood, who upon hearing that the movie they are working might be certain of box-office success, can do nothing but bemoan the extra work that will befall them.  Oh, the horrors of success!  Oh My GOD I have to work even more?

Well, Pete–and you too, Darrin–there’s a very simple solution that will cause all your problems to disappear, and you can leap about in unending joy.

Quit.  Go on up to Clay Breakdance (or whatever his name is) and tell him you’re tired of all the effort that is expected of you, and that you (so far) seem to have failed to provide.  You’re both tired of working, and it’s really cutting into your nap time, and your nostalgic day-dreaming about Bantom comics.  I’m sure his lips will curl just a bit as he accepts your resignations.    Clay will be happy to bring in a crew who actually want to work, and don’t look upon every suggestion as a knife in the back.

And there’s a bonus for both of you!  When the movie is released some months hence, and proves to be a box-office smash, you can bemoan the fact that you were cheated out of all that money.  And that, no doubt, will trigger even more flashbacks.

Win-win, I say.  Now, now, I know those are dirty words in the Funkyverse, but as they say–faint heart never won bitter regrets.

(It kind of makes me wonder what sort of movie Pete and Darin would make if they had complete control–what sort of cinematic turd would satisfy their notion of purity.  I should note that it doesn’t make me wonder enough to actually see that movie, or hear them talk about it.)

PS:  No idea who the very detailed gentleman is, but he sure seems to be someone from Real Life.  Perhaps someone who lost a bet–that’s my guess, anyway.


Filed under Son of Stuck Funky


Link to today’s strip.

Here’s something I like about today’s strip.  No, it’s not the idiotic word-play.  It’s not the artwork, the falling leaves, or the grotesque slab of Les’ greasy hair in panel two.  (Seriously, look at that.  I mean, we all want him to melt in agony, yet here it is and it isn’t any fun at all!)

No, what I like are the expressions in panel three.  Those are three of the most bitter, most miserable people in the world.   Even the guy who’s delivering the pun doesn’t look pleased with himself–he looks as if he’s really loathing himself for having to do this.

What we see here are three people realizing that they are mere toys in the hands of an angry god, and they must dance for his pleasure or burn.  They have one freedom left:  the freedom not to smirk at a pun.  They can withhold their approval in this one thing without fear of annihilation.

No wonder both Les and Cayla envy Les’ dead wife.  Even though the dead can never rest, they can’t die again. either.

Of course, Les’ expression in panel three is typical of him when someone else delivers wordplay.  It just galls him when someone beats him to the punline.  I recall Barry Balderman’s remark about “Life is like masking tape, the more you use, the less you have” (or whatever he said).  Les’ face then was just Boy do I hate you.  Boy do I hate you.  Lisadamnit, I’m supposed to do the clever stuff. 

Given what passes for “clever” in these parts, I suspect most cast members would be happy to pass it off to Les.  “Happy” being the completely wrong word, of course….


Filed under Son of Stuck Funky