Well, I guess today’s strip provides some semblance of continuity to Morton Winkerbean’s uh… dream (I guess that’s what it is) of being a “rock star”, lining up with Thursday’s strip about drugs and groupies and whatnot. That does seem like an odd dream for a nursing home resident, even today as the stars of the rock ‘n roll era approach nursing home resident age. Still, it actually kinda makes sense that a wannabe rock star would name his son “Funky”.
This also lines up relatively well with the Mort we first met back in 2011, still not fully lucid and irritating the folks around him with bad dad jokes. Today’s Mort is less somber and churlish than the on we saw at Christmas five years back, but we’ve only ever seen him like that around Funky. Perhaps we can chalk that up to Mort simply not liking his son… another reason he might have named him “Funky”.
Link To Today’s Debacle
Blech. This weird detour into the darkest recesses of Batiuk’s mind is getting more repugnant by the day. I have felt this queasy since Susan flung herself at Les with (gak) wanton abandon a few years back. At least he pulled back on the 40’s lingo today (King Movie Entertainment…that’s a good one), which I suppose counts for something. You gotta take the little victories where you find them, you know?
Isn’t it amazing that even his fantasies are padded with lots of filler? “Lisa The Lioness”…oh dear, the deification never, ever stops. “We got the test results back, Ms. Lioness and all is well…er, I mean feline leukemia, sorry bout that goofy mix-up!”. Too bad Lisa The Lioness wasn’t one of those jungle cats that ate her young, it’d have spared us years worth of Darin and Summer.
Man, a week of Les talking about nails and now a week of this, Batom’s on a roll. A terrible, terrible roll. He’s actually telling little “sub-stories” within his main story which isn’t even a story at all yet! Think about that for a second, it’s remarkable. I mean who does that? How is it even possible?