That’s right, BatYam, it’s the readers who are wrong. This attitude sure explains an awful lot. “Crappy serialized stories that plod along for weeks on end and never go anywhere are what comic strip authors choose to publish!”…yep, they sure do. It’s one of American popular culture’s most enduring and vexing conundrums.
Tag Archives: black voids
The Zeppelin’s Graveyard
Good grief, look at the size of that folder, is Pete writing a novel or a comic book?
I admit I have no idea how comic books are written, other than what is known as “Marvel Style.” This is where the writer gives the artist an outline of what should happen in the issue, the artist goes off and draws the pages, and the writer then fills in the dialogue and needed descriptions. I don’t think “Suddenly he turned and saw” would be anywhere in that outline.
It also occurs to me that unless you’re a beady-eyed nitpicker, you have no idea who these people are or what they’re doing. That could be an actual movie script, for all the casual reader knows. And who’s the old guy? All it would take is Pete saying, “Flash! Good to see you!” And then, “I’d be honored if the great Flash Freeman read my script!” Done and done.
If there are any people out there who “enjoy” this strip, they’d have to have an encyclopedic knowledge of characters, places and occupations for it to make any sense. It would help if they also had a fanatical devotion to continuity–something Tom Batiuk has demonstratively been shown to lack.
One thing that he definitely has, though, is a bristling reaction to any criticism, and he’s certainly imbued Pete with that characteristic. Ouch.
By the way, a quick web search for “dangling subject” brings up lots and lots of entries for dangling modifier, but nothing at all for “dangling subject.” But I suppose the Lord of Language knows what he’s talking about. And quite honestly, I don’t know what Freeman is talking about.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
When Harry Met My Fist
I’m far from Miss Manners here but it’s gotta be in poor form to unload your woe-is-me tale on someone that’s actually losing something, including possibly his finances, house, marriage, kid’s college fund, who knows what else. It’s like telling your neighbor that you’re sorry that huge oak tree fell on his house; it was a nice tree for birds to hang out on and sing.
And with that uninspired observation, I turn the rest of the week’s snarking back to the master, TFHackett! Thanks for the opportunity to try and dredge some chuckles out of this bleak week!
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Son of Stuck Funky 