Tag: Cody and Owen

Secret Origins of Super Villains

Link to today’s strip.

I’m going to skip the dialogue in today’s episode, mostly because it’s just too stupid to acknowledge.  What interests me most is the lunch lady’s face in panel three.  That face simply screams That’s it.  I quit.  I refuse to listen to this kind of crap, from these sub-morons.  I’m going back to being a greeter at Sprawl-Mart.

That, my friends, is the face of someone who has just been defeated by the Super-Friends for the second time…meaning that they have now chosen evil as a career.  The Super-Friends thwart you the first time, well, you probably just had a bad break in your life and took to crime to feed the family.  The second time around, though, means you’ve picked evil because you like evil.  And you’re already preparing your third crime…revenge, against those Super-Fools!

With a Fried Egg on Top And Spam

Link to today’s strip.

Geez, Owen…in Westview, insulting someone’s sarcastic ability is like slapping them with a glove, or yelling personal remarks about their ancestry.  Pistols at dawn; bring your second!  By insulting the lunch lady, she’s honor-bound to respond and you’ll be lucky if you only find yourself fishing your filthy hippie hat out of your casserole, rather than your whole head.  (At the very least the lunch lady should nail your head to the floor.)

Sarcasm is the very lifesblood of the citizens of Westview.  It is valued more than money.  The only more holy aspiration is the pun, and this lady’s memorized recitation already shows that she prepares well enough to challenge anyone in any of the Westview arts.

Besides, who wouldn’t want to see Owen punched out by a little old lady?  I know I would.  Heck, I’d set up a stand and sell tickets.  The souvenir program book would outsell Fallen Star on eBay by a wide margin.

Surprise Surprise

Greetings, folks, BChasm back for another tour in the trenches.   And what is on the menu for today (see what I did there)?

Someone less kind than myself might note that the dialogue in panel 3 perfectly fits Tom Batiuk’s method of constructing a comic strip.  After all, while the particular events in Funky Winkerbean can’t always be foreseen, certainly none of outcomes for any of the stories is ever in doubt–it’ll end in tears, or, more likely, a weary shrug, a tired scowl and a terrible pun.   You can say that about every story presented in the last few years; notice that I’ve written two paragraphs already without a single mention of the characters involved in today’s comic.   This paragraph could serve as a perfectly generic yet perfectly accurate summation of every strip, every day.

Having said all that, I’d like to say that Funky Winkerbean is actually quite full of surprises.   There have been many events over the last couple of years that were completely and totally out of the  blue–Crazy Harry losing his job, Kevin having moved on, Kerry Fairgood, the reappearance of Alex, Frankie’s return, Khahn’s store closing, and so on.

The problem, as you’ve already guessed, is that none of these surprises are handled in an interesting manner.  At all.  Kerry Fairgood appeared and disappeared over the course of a week.  Impact on the strip: zero point zero.  Frankie’s weeks-long arc was one long stretch of nothing happening.  Franklyn Simpson Pierce…has no strip impact.

I guess what I’m ultimately saying is, go ahead and eat your glop, Owen and Cody.  Nothing will happen to you as a result.

Funny how the whole rationale behind getting rid of the vendos was so that the students would eat better, healthier food, and look at the unappealing bilge piled on that plate!  Ha ha, it’s funny because school lunches.

Lack of surprising things happening isn’t Funky Winkerbean‘s problem.  Having a surprise that has an impact on the strip…now, that would be a surprise.

Espèce d’Idiot

Today’s strip

Funky Winkerbean is a reality-based comic strip that depicts contemporary issues affecting young adults in a thought-provoking and sensitive manner.

What kind of idiot goes into the business of educating teenagers, then changes careers to write a comic strip about teenagers, when he clearly despises teenagers and doesn’t know any teenagers?

Oh, that kind of idiot.

I’ve always liked Owen—no, wait, let me finish!

Owen, as his creator compels him to behave, is a dimwitted, resentful, and callow boy with hardly any redeeming characteristics. He repels me. He’s a lazy student known to plagiarize from Wikipedia and otherwise cheat. He wears a chullo in summer, for crying out loud!

The thing is, I think the poor guy does all that stupid stuff under duress. In the hands of a more capable author than our favorite auteur, Owen and Cody could be interesting.

The Owen I’ve always liked is one that Batominc will never cause to exist.

So we’re left with the bandos getting drenched in the H₂Os on the fields in front of the mommos and daddos who are stupidos sitting on the bleachos. And so it goes.

About the title: In French, you can call someone a species of idiot. It means that not only are you an idiot, you’re your own special kind of idiot.

Update: Here endeth my stint as your guest snarker. It was a hoot, and I hope you enjoyed it (the snarking, not the comic)! TFH takes on Sunday’s bundle of joy, and will announce our next guest then! Cheers! Wait. I mean gloom!