Tag Archives: Harry Dinkle

Dead Feeb

SosfdavidO here, and we’re back with “What hearing loss?” Harry Dinkle in today’s strip. Tombat really wrote himself into a corner with this charcter– it’s hard to kill off someone based on a real life person you know. So Dinkle is a spry 70 year old forever while the rest of the Funky Bunch slowly catches up to him, eventually likely even passing him in age.

“Dead Feeb” is as good of a password as I could muster from the variety of options available from musical notes but I’m sure someone can do better!


Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Funky Town

today’s strip
Here’s a quick entry for you night owls!


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The Man Who Knew To Munch

Link to today’s strip.

Wow, that Dr. Harry L. Dinkle character sure is multi-talented!  Here’s the third seminar he’s chaired during this convention, and each one has been on a different subject.  In the first he taught some infants how to conduct, in the second he taught people how to be colossal dicks, and here he’s…wait a minute.  “Band Candy Fundamentals”?!  Seriously?  Could there possibly be an entire clinic devoted to band candy?

Or–and stay with me here–or is this an actual joke?  About how there are all these clinics and symposia and seminars, and a lot of them are just trivial and could easily be replaced by simple common sense?

I’m going to go with “that is the joke.”  Because the actual words in Dinkle’s mouth in that last panel make no sense to me–though the folks in the front row seem to find it hilarious…in a kind of sinister way, I must note.   “Conflict Chocolate.”  I’m guessing it’s a pun based on something, though that particular something eludes me.  A movie or TV show, maybe, or some specialized band conductor’s magazine.   Or some long forgotten Superman comic book–or better yet, a story from The Flash.

I sure hope this is it for a while from Harry L. Dinkle, PhD.  I’ll give the week this much credit: out of all the strips comprising Harry’s visit to the OMEA, only one had someone praising Dinkle.  That’s got to be a first.  Thank you, Tom Batiuk, for that Herculean level of restraint.  I hope it didn’t hurt too much.


Filed under Son of Stuck Funky


Link to today’s strip.

Dr. Harry L. Dinkle, professional dumbass.  Just yesterday in real-time, but just a few minutes ago in strip-time, he discussed pizza as a fundraising tool–especially how you can use someone else’s pizza to make them miserable.  And now he’s astonished to find pizza itself on the convention floor?  Well, apparently he can’t remember anything for more than a few seconds.   I guess that’s why he’s not following his own advice and churlishly reading the pamphlet.

One thing I am curious about–is this particular strip supposed to be funny?  Or poignant?  Or educational?  Does it serve any purpose whatsoever except as one more step on the way to the 50th?  Because I’ll be damned if I can find any content in this at all.

I don’t have any hatred for Tom Batiuk–in fact, I wish him all the luck in the world with his work.  I just wish he’d try every now and then.  But all the strips in recent months just seem to be one big nothing after another big nothing.  It’s difficult for me to even get angry at the strip–it’s just so boring, such a squandered opportunity.  He could tell interesting stories with this cast if he didn’t (apparently) believe that everything has to be miserable to be taken seriously.

What’s so great about being taken seriously?

Oh well.  How about another Crankshaft!  Funny how my phone hasn’t rung with an offer yet.


Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Cruel to be Kind

Link to today’s strip.

Well, today’s episode is quite “meta.”  Dinkle here is advising people–and there’s no sugarcoating this–to be colossal dicks.  His advice is downright mean–much nastier than just grabbing food and leaving.  What a truly rotten human being.   Again, the eternal question:  this is supposed to be funny?   That person in the front row sure seems to find it amusing.

I bet when he dines out, Dinkle pretends to calculate a tip for several  minutes before leaving nothing.  While smirking to himself over his cleverness.

No surprise with any of that, but what’s curious is that Dinkle is apparently chairing a seminar of how to behave at a convention…during the same convention.  I have never heard of such a thing, and can’t imagine any use for it.  It’s not like an orientation thing–“Welcome to the convention, here’s what to expect, here’s the schedule of events, here’s where the bathrooms are.”

No, this seems to be specifically how to be a colossal dick.  So…I guess they got the right guy to run this one!

What I’d like to know–

–is, why is “Fundamentals” written with an apostrophe?  That usually implies ownership of something.  Now, “Convention Fundamental’s Favorite Pompous Ass” would work –why, it would work beautifully.

Thursday’s Crankshaft has far to go:


Filed under Son of Stuck Funky

Pain as the Nose on Your Face

Link to today’s strip.

As the comic books say, “What th–?”

“On the nose” means “with great precision.”  In other words, this comic has characters saying “I thought your talk was very precise,” and the other responding, “No, it was very scattered and vague.”  So, Dinkle is saying he’s a talentless loser who wastes everyone’s time.  Given yesterday’s strip, I can certainly agree with that!  C’mon, Becky, you should pop that old coot with your patented left hook!  Oh wait.

Now, if, in an alternate reality, “on the nose” meant “barely touching something,” then yes, that describes his clinic perfectly.  And thus the comic makes a tiny bit of sense, with Dinkle responding, “No, I was more thorough than that.”  But that makes Becky’s remark kind of insulting–and we certainly can’t have that if Dinkle is involved.  But not to worry, “on the nose” doesn’t mean that, so no one is dissing Dinkle!  Cancel the panic!

If a person is really determined to base his comic strip around word-play, then he needs to get that aspect done correctly.  One cannot just take a phrase like “on the nose” and think, What other body parts can I use to make a pun? and just settle on the first thing that pops to mind.  Making a good pun–and there are such beasts, from time to time–requires thought.

So, if Becky said Dinkle’s chat was “on the nose” he could say, “too bad, I was aiming for the brain,” then that could work as word-play.   Admittedly, it took me half a minute to come up with that, and maybe Tom Batiuk just doesn’t have that kind of time available.

A while ago I suggested that we get together and buy Tom Batiuk a dictionary.  I’m thinking now some kind of book on puns would be useful, too–maybe this one?

And here’s Wednesday’s Crankshaft!  I’m telling you, that writing job is practically mine.



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Smearing The Mess

Link to today’s strip.

Okay, as I mentioned yesterday I wasn’t in the band in high school.  But even in my ignorance, I understand that what Dinkle is saying here is so utterly elementary that he should be scowled off the stage.  “Oh, really?  I thought I was just supposed to wave my baton around like an addled person.  No wonder my Strauss sounds like Stockhausen!”

What’s next?  “Those dots on the score, by the way, actually tell you what musical notes should be playing–and in what order they’re to be played!”

If there were a fourth panel, some variation on the above could be used to construct an actual “joke” if it came from an audience member.  “Wow, I’m learning so much!  Can you tell us which end of the trombone our students should blow in?  We can never figure this out!”

That, however, would require that Dinkle be treated with disrespect, and we can’t have that.

Here’s my Tuesday Crankshaft.  Enjoy!


Filed under Son of Stuck Funky