Tag Archives: Carl

Rock and Droll

SosfDavidO here! Sorry about today’s snoozer, I didn’t know we were going to be forced to go back to history class. Still, learning things about the early days of rock and roll beats being in a small room with Les and Ghost Wife or being stuck with Creepy John or Mopey Pete.

Today’s strip is like watching wallpaper dry. Why are we here? How is this advancing the strip at all? Who are half these people, and why should we even care?!

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Banks for the Memories

Ah, comic strips about young people! SoSfdavidO here just loves them. Does anyone know of any they can point me to? Because from the looks of today’s strip we’re veering dangerously back into Crankshaft’s turf again.

In any case, so someone can get *some* pleasure out of today’s strip, here’s the song in question. It’s actually a rather enjoyable jaunty number.

Memphis Blues

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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.

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I Don’t Want Candy

If yesterday’s strip depicting Mort and his walker (hey! Mort Walker!) going door to door to sell candy yesterday was not heartbreaking enough, here’s poor Carl pushing around his oxygen tank. Anyone opening their door to this sight would be overcome pity, but this Westview resident is fed up after years of Dinkle’s interminable fundraisers and decides she’s gonna take it out on Carl. “Whopperjawed” sounded to me like some kind of Willy Wonka reference (think “everlasting gobstopper“), but according to Google it’s a word meaning “crooked or askew”. Between the nonsensical punchline and the cruelty of sending nursing home residents out to hawk candy, this is FW at its unfunniest.

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Candy Man Comes Around. Again.

170505Members of any band under the baton of “Noble” laureate Harry Dinkle are compelled to support the enterprise by going door to door peddling turkeys, books, and that sweet, sweet Belgian chocolate. Even a member who uses a walker and who several years ago couldn’t recognize his own son.

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Not the River But the Stream

You were hoping that we’d dispensed with Dinkle at least until band camp, but today we find him fronting “The Bedside Manorisms”. Either Dinkle’s done a hell of a job whipping this band into shape, or he truly has gone deaf after all; in any case he feel’s they’re ready to head into the studio. Harry, the internationally renowned fundraiser, seeks to generate merch to sell at their shows, while Walt and the lady violin player we thought was Harriet reject such crass commercialism and embrace the DIY ethic.

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Low Blow

Today’s strip reminds me of an episode of 50s/60s “animated” series Clutch Cargo, “The Ghost Ship”. The episode starts off with Clutch’s ward Spinner wondering aloud if the fishing boats in the harbor ever move.
A rare moment of self-awareness in an “animated” show that consisted almost entirely of still images (with creepy filmed lips placed on top of them) or a pure coincidence? I leaned toward the latter but was never 100% sure.

Similarly, I’m pretty sure today’s panel 1 is unintentional, but not fully sure. It could be a sly call back to that time in late Act II when Harry’s hearing loss forced him to hand his baton over to Lefty, meant to poke at us beady-eyed nitpickers who have noted on many occasions that TB completely ignored this maudlin mess once Act III began. I concede that is possible, but likely? Ha!
TB ignores precedents set in his own work and retcons things more often than Tom Armstrong draws Marvin soiling himself.

Poor Carl, he was doing so well when we last saw him on Christmas day. I admire his dedication to playing the trumpet

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