Funky – Page 131 – Son of Stuck Funky

“Rent” Control

TFH here, tippin’ the ol’ SoSF K-pot to Beckoning Chasm for two weeks of outstanding guest posting! Guest host DavidO brings the snark for a couple weeks starting tomorrow.

Before anyone asks: I’m not going to add “rents” (slang for parents) to the Batiuktionary…I actually have heard this usage (once) in real life, and it can also be found in that context on Google and Urban Dictionary. Now that we got that out of the way: war-torn Afghanistan provides the reader a welcome respite from the Taj Moore-hal. TB trusts us (for once) to discern that one of these interchangeable, faceless soldiers is none other than Our Cory. The soldiers having apparently exhausted every other topic for small talk, conversation now turns to the “rents” (in the past tense for reasons unknown). “They constantly invented new ways to be annoying.” At least they’re inventive; meanwhile their Creator constantly annoys by cycling and recycling the same tired tropes. The band director’s changed but being in the band is still an ordeal. The Scapegoats’ standout footballer is now the coach, but the team still loses. War was hell for Wally (who went MIA twice) and will no doubt be hell for cousin Cory.

Sunday In The Park With Joe

Today’s strip

I’ve always been a fan of Joe Staton. He currently draws the “Dick Tracy” newspaper strip, and drew a comic book I used to read back in the day, E-Man. I actually first encountered his work in–believe it or not–the old Amazing Stories science fiction magazine. His style tends to be loose and casual, but he always knew exactly where the focus should be in the image, and he has a great sense of dynamics.

I mention all this only because his work is the only interesting thing in today’s offering. The corner bit from Tom Batiuk is basically the pimple on a model’s face. Although Mr. Staton doesn’t seem to’ve put a great deal of effort into this…I’m not sure if the robot he’s cradling was a friend or foe. His arm wrapped around Starbuck says “poor fallen friend” but his feet seem to be pointed toward “fiendish foe, who nearly had me.”

Although, I do think I’ve figured out why Tom Batiuk’s dialogue is so horrible. I think he believes that his readership consists solely of people who have never read Funky Winkerbean before, and who have no intention of reading it the next day.

Tom Batiuk also thinks that this thing called “continuity” or “consistency” is a sucker’s game. Remember last week, how issue seven was the only thing lacking in Cory’s care package? Well, now Holly is “collecting” more. (I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to collect a single issue of something and figure your task is “completed” unless you’ve set your goals pretty low.) You knew the pain wasn’t going to be just one week long, didn’t you? If I recall correctly, there were to be seven Starbuck Jones comic covers presented to us over the course of this arc.

And if each of those covers gets its own Sunday page, well, you can do the math I’m sure. At least we’ll see some artists whose work should be far, far better than the usual Sunday strips.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is the start of a globe-hopping adventure, a la Indiana Jones, as Holly travels the far corners of the earth to track down the complete set of Starbuck Jones comics.

…ah, ha ha ha ha ha. I crack myself up sometimes.

Cory, We Hardly Knew Ye

Today’s strip.

My God, Holly’s dialogue in panels one and two is brain-busting. Except for the need to fill a pre-existing, drawn-a-year-in-advance word balloon (my pet theory, I hope you don’t mind if I harp on it constantly), I’m hard-pressed to think why such a fetid stew of verbiage would get vomited up. Every time I try to think of a way to shorten that mess, my mind goes blank. But let’s try:

The actual point of the strip, hinted at yesterday, is that yes, Funky was a fan of Starbuck Jones. Since it seems Cory is too, perhaps they’ll have an actual reason to contact one another and chat. Of course, Funky being Funky, the idea of communicating with a fellow human being, other than to express contempt, is inconceivable. Note the tense of Funky’s verb: Funky was a fan of Starbuck Jones. Was. Then, he grew up, hardened his gaze, and never looked back. He was many things. He is…Funky Winkerbean.

Holly then offers up another “If only we’d gotten to know him better” lament. Well, Holly, that wouldn’t have happened with Funky (being after all, Funky), but you know, Cory is your biological child. You’ve known him all his life. You have pretty much no excuse not to know more about your own son than you do. So, yeah, I guess you can feel sorry for yourself. No one else is going to.

Bonus “Utter Insanity” note–look at Funky in panel three. Specifically, look at his neck. You see the tag there? The tag that typically signifies “size” and “washing instructions”? See how it has flipped itself up? This…this is amazing. Tom Batiuk, an artist who cannot be bothered with panel-to-panel consistency, makes certain that Funky’s t-shirt tag is realistically flipped up. And they say there are no miracles.

Funky Say WHAT

Today’s strip.

Greetings, fellow snarkers, BChasm back for another stint (I almost wrote “stink”) in the Funky Winkerbean guest-host-o-rama.

For a comic strip that continually confounds me, today’s episode is a grand-slam home run. I have no idea whatsoever what is supposed to be conveyed by Funky’s expression and dialogue in panel three. His words say “I’m astonished to the point of horror” but his face is swept with the bemusement that, aside from the smirk, is the most prevalent facial expression in Westview. Replace Holly’s dialogue with “I found a dozen pies” and his expression suddenly makes perfect sense.

Taking a wild stab here, I’m going to assume that Funky is a fan of Starbuck Jones (wasn’t that the comic he urged his younger self to buy?) and is amazed that Cory has even heard of such a thing. Perhaps the two of them actually share a characteristic, other than unending cynicism.

This is quite a surprise to me. The reason it’s surprising is that in all my recent reading of Funky Winkerbean (since the tail end of the Gay Promeggedon) I cannot recall a single area in which Funky expresses any interest at all. Well, there’s Steve Earle I suppose. But other than that, Funky seems to have no interests, hobbies or anything that distinguishes him from the pizza dough he endlessly kneads. Other than owning the only healthy business in Westview, he seems to have no purpose.

Well, okay, he does serve one function. But “He was one of Les Moore’s foils” is not going to be much of an epitaph.

The Pun Never Ends

Today’s Strip

I have to assume that this is what happens to TB too: he starts a task, then gets distracted by his undying love for unspeakably awful punnery and sadistically terrible wordplay. On the plus side, however, at least Funky is seated, which spares us the sight of his bulbous, humongous ass. When you read FW every day you have to find the small victories wherever you can. Check out those snazzy bifocals though, such amazing attention to detail.

Coming next week: Funky discovers a rare, autographed first draft copy of “Fallen Star”. He puts it on Ebay and sells it for seven cents to the high bidder, a “Ohiocancerfan65”. Hilarity ensues.

It’s been an epic two weeks here at SoSF…pills, bullying, Metamucil, Halloween, Funky’s attic and old FW gags from 1978. It’s been a blast as always, but it’s time for me to step aside to make way for the fantastic comedy stylings of the one, the only…BeckoningChasm (beginning Monday)! See you in the comment section gang and, as always, stay f*cking Funky!!!