Tag Archives: Bull

HomeDumbing Charade

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I like the “I” on the front of Bull’s jacket, like the artist just couldn’t be bothered to draw a proper half a “W”. Nicely done there, new guy. What a totally pointless waste of time this piece of garbage was, it was pretty much the same thing as the first Buck arc except even less eventful. At least that one involved thinking and walking. I don’t get what he’s trying to “do” with Bull at all. He gave him a debilitating brain condition in order to force him into an early retirement (Bull is the same age as the rest of the Act I gang, remember) but all he’s done since then is sit around remembering things, which is kind of at odds with the whole point of it.

Earlier in Act III he did an arc about Funky having to put his Alzheimer’s-afflicted father in a nursing home, which led to all sorts of hilarious ramifications, but now Morty is a goofy peppy old coot, improbably enough. Lisa took a hundred years to finally agonizingly die from cancer, then she was hanging around in Les’ car like a month later. Now he’s doing an arc about Bull suffering from brain damage, yet his memory appears to be sharper than ever. There’s a definite pattern of sorts here, one I’d prefer not to analyze very deeply at the moment.

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Pants-Load

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Ugh. Of course they can’t reminisce about anything remotely interesting or anything, it has to be idiotic football jokes and banal football-related muttering instead. Look at Bull, absolutely astonished to learn that he’s been putting on his pants all wrong for all these years. You know, while CTE is certainly no laughing matter, I don’t think it’s going to necessarily be a bad thing in Bull’s case.

The artwork is downright freaky today. Bull is suddenly a retired longshoreman and Buck’s head is as perfectly square as any head I’ve ever seen. Take away his lil’ button-nose and the guy’s profile is literally a straight line. Whatever the hell is going on there I don’t know, but it’s not exactly a strong endorsement for playing football, that much is certain. And as pathetic and stupid as Bull is, this Buck guy is the one who had nothing better to do with his time than to look up some guy he didn’t even really know, which doesn’t exactly say a lot about the dreary path HIS life has taken since graduation.

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Into Fat Air

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Typical Linda, always such a meddlesome harpy. Annoyed by seeing Bull enjoying himself and remembering things, she throws Bull and his block-headed pal out into the chilly autumn night for no other reason aside from sheer bitter spite. I’ve never cared much for Linda and her humorless smirking know-it-all-ism.

Totally lost without television, Bull and Buck meander on down to the ol’ WHS gridiron to silently bask in the echoes of pigskin glory days gone by, when football was a game played by large unintelligent men who bullied their classmates because they had a tough home life, unlike today’s watered-down brand of football, where any stupid feeb with a stupid goatee in a mascot costume can become an overnight sensation. I suppose they could have wandered down to Montoni’s or a bar or something, but that would take the characters into the realm of two-dimensionality and we cannot have that. High school football memories…that’s the premise here and by God he’s sticking to it.

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Victory Has A Thousand Fathers, But Defeat Is An Orphan

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(Zzzzzzzzz)….oh, what? Sorry, accidentally dozed off there for a minute. Bull and his new best pal Buck are still lounging around in Bull’s rec room, apparently watching some old high school football games instead of “Law And Order” or “Diagnosis: Murder” reruns like normal dementia patients do. This Buck asshole…who still wears his old high school football letterman’s jacket…is apparently a little behind the times regarding his ol’ alma mater’s recent football history, which makes no sense outside of the usual FW context. Within it, though, it makes total sense.

Anyhow, upon realizing that Bull’s old squad defeated their long-time gridiron rivals, BanTom has this Buck asshole engage in that holiest of masculine meathead jock rituals, that being the “fist bump”. They’re just two manly men reminiscing over that which they’ll soon forget, in other words a regular weekday evening in Westview.

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You Can Check Out Any Time You Like….

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Poor, poor Bull. After a cuppa cawfee with the old Saint Louis Cardinals football team he sheepishly shuffled back to Westview in shame, condemned to the lowest fate of them all…becoming a small town high school gym teacher. Perhaps it was the multiple concussions, perhaps it was his inherent laziness, maybe it was his natural stupidity, but after the Cards let him go he just gave up, returned to his old high school, married the wryest woman in town and resigned himself to the fact that he was just a big fat failure, also known as “career path A” among Westviewian guidance counselors. He should get in touch with every other guy from his graduating class except Les and start a club.

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More Bull In The Cards

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This is a bit of a surprise, as I naturally assumed we’d never see that asshole Buck again, but apparently he visits the rapidly-deteriorating Bull regularly now…and lucky FW readers reap the benefits. Bull is sitting around in his old football helmet which definitely explains his head injuries, as he’s been doing it wrong all this time. Looks like another trudge down Limited Memory Lane again for ol’ Bull, who never gets to stop re-living the past he’ll soon forget. Yes, that sounds about right.

I’m looking forward to Bull beginning to forget everything, as it’ll (probably) put an end to these interminable football glory days arcs once and for all. BatNom had a choice, he could have either left Bull the way he was and just continued doing his annual football-centric gags like he always has or he could have given Bull a debilitating brain disease, gone nowhere with it then used Bull to rehash his old football-centric gags over and over. Guess which he chose? It’s like Pa Winkerbean’s Alzheimer’s, cheap pathos fodder for a few weeks then forgotten whenever there’s a weak gag to be had.

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Oh no he DIDnt

Finally, after wasting a week of everyone’s time, we finally find out in today’s strip an inkling of what Buck’s Guilt over winning games no one remembers but these two losers from over 30 years ago. Linda, in the meantime has made herself useful by bringing him some sort of unidentifiable artifact that I assume is cyanide-laced coffee.

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