Tag Archives: fate hates you

Graphic Drivel

I know what you’re thinking, “How can today’s strip be any worse than this past week?”

Well, newsflash!

raph-itsworse

Les. The most dreaded name in the newspaper. The name that even alone evokes the most dire of thoughts. “Les” is the sound that a rattlesnake makes before it dies in a brush fire. It’s the Florida State Police code word for a sinkhole. It was the name of Francisco Franco’s pet canary. It is far and away the worst part of the title of Les Miserables.

I don’t know what possessed this poor poor child to wander near Les’ table, but I do know that if he winds up reading Lisa’s Story he is not going put it down disappointed that only one person dies. No, he’s just going to think that the wrong person dies. And he would, of course, be right.

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That Which Survives

Link to today’s strip.

You know, if I were a callous, horrid, jobless beady-eyed nitpicker, I’d be damned tempted to say that this strip is posted above the ol’ FW drawing board as a motto of inspiration.  Or at least a plan.  “Tell fewer jokes.”

In fairness, Batiuk is right that the vast majority of “I’m going to get healthy” resolutions are quickly abandoned.  (in unfairness, it should be noted this is another hardly a new insight.  Jokes of this nature have been in the comics for decades.)  I actually belong to a gym, and when January rolls around, the place is stuffed to the gills.

But it never lasts.  Tonight, a little over three weeks into the new year, the levels are back down to normal.  Exercise is hard work, and it tends to be dull, too; you really have to push yourself to stay with it.  Once you get past a certain threshold, though, you find your body needs it and it becomes far less of a chore.

As for Funky, I seriously doubt his exercise arc will continue past this week, for two reasons.  The first is that Funky is far too passive, depressive and weak-willed to make any significant change in his downward spiral.  I’m always amazed to see him in the strip, as it means he’s managed to haul himself out of bed.

The second reason is that, even by Funky Winkerbean standards, this has been one damned boring storyline.   I think stretching it beyond a week would tax Tom Batiuk’s abilities, though I confess I wouldn’t put it past him to try.

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