Tag Archives: Holtron

Dry Drowning

Today’s strip is finally up.

I was desperately hoping that my return to the writer’s helm after months of this meandering nonsense would be the magical talisman to break this unending inanity. I was there when this plot started in February, and maybe now it could end.

No such luck. Pete is plodding along on his Cosmic Treadmill…using awful word association to come up with cut-rate characters. I’m sure that the Floodlight, or the Floodmaster, or Floody McFlooderson the World’s Wettest Woman, will be nothing more than a name, a costume, a gimmick, and an even worse arch nemesis with drought powers. No Batman or Captain America levels of backstory, built in angst, creeds, and psychological insight. Just a stupid idea, personified.

Floods of biblical proportions can’t drown shallow characters. They’re hollow and insubstantial rising to the top and clinging together in a choking mat of garbage.

Yes I am comparing TomBat’s idea of ‘comicbook characters’ with the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.

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Prop Komix

Link To Today’s

Sigh. Once again BatDerp is playing fast and loose with the very fabric of time itself. Just like how Pete and Boy Lisa are not “young kids just starting out” and how everyone was massively influenced by pop culture artifacts from twenty years before they were born, suddenly the Dimmer Twins are having things delivered to the building they didn’t even know existed until “today”…whenever that is. It isn’t just stupid, it’s completely impossible.

Then there’s the always contrary Chester. By day he’s founding new comic book companies out of a deep and total love for those old-time Batom Comics of yore and by night he’s a sleazy Batom Comics obsessed scumbag willing to deal with all sorts of comic book lowlifes to acquire his ill-gotten memorabilia. He can’t possibly exist but there he is.

And Holtron…sigh. Sentient being? Old piece of garbage? Well…what day is it? Tomorrow it could be a coffee machine, a paper shredder or a cartoon dog and I’d still shrug indifferently and so would you.

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Batty Batom Baloney

Welp, turns out the Batom Bullpen is actually BS, as Chester learns in today’s strip. Six panels of explanation about how working at Batom Comics in the 1950s was just like Pete and Durwood’s fever dreams and one panel of Chester getting the vapors after learning that Pete and Durwood’s fever dreams were true to life. It’s… it’s almost like we’ve seen all of this actually drawn and didn’t need any of this exposition.

Poor, poor Holtron has to witness this whole sad, sad scene.

And with that, the skink is out until next time. $10 sez this story arc is going to continue uninterrupted until my next turn at the wheel.

No takers?

None?

Yeah, I don’t blame ya.

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Haik-UNIVAC

Still talking about
Holtron ownership transfer
here in today’s strip?!

Wealthy Boomers are
Out there laying down stacks for
Sperry-Rand mainframes?

Why didn’t props group
Make a more mobile Holtron
For the first movie?

No really, why not?
Or why did they need Holtron
In the first place, huh?

Sentient Holtron
Has always been property
This is just so wrong

A better comic
Would be Short Circuit rip-off
With Holtron and Frank

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Holtron, I’m Comin’

Clever move by Mr. Director and smarmy Clay Wallace in today’s strip, getting Pete and Durwood to haul away their trash for FREE. Heck, P&D are pretty much thanking them for the privilege. Morons.

Wait, wait, wait.. wasn’t it strongly implied that Holtron is sentient? Yeah, Conan O’Brien tackled it for responding to a heckler (it mistook for a time machine?) back during last year’s Starbuck Jones Comic-Con panel. And now Holtron, a true breakthrough in artificial intelligence, is the property of these two shmucks, wrapped up in one of those stupid giant bows from the Lexus commercials… You’re sick, Tom Batiuk. Sick.

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Oy Vey ist Premiere!

Let’s hope the prospective Mr. and Mrs. Jarre and Mr. and Mrs. Anger get back from the courthouse in time for the World Premiere of Starbuck Jones! The studio’s pulled out all the stops, installing huge inflatables of Starbuck, Jupiter Moon, and a Xanax Warrior atop the Val’s crumbling marquee, while the “front of house,” which just last week was brown, appears to have been repainted the same blue-gray as the drab balloons at that kid’s birthday party. Here’s hoping that the life-sized SJ and Jupiter we see waving to the crowd are costumed players; to have the movie’s leads cosplaying themselves at the world premiere would be too cheesy even for Batiuk.

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Holt Rides in a Volt

Whatever else new artist Rick Burchett brings to this strip, he knows how to draw a realistic, modern looking car. And he can draw the occupants seated comfortably inside, not pressed up against the windshield. Good job!

While the artwork’s (marginally) improved, the writing hasn’t changed. Phil Holt is such a comics legend that he’s instantly recognizable; quite a feat for anyone not named Stan Lee. Yet he bitterly dismisses his life’s work as “just junk.” “Now there was this young fella back in the day, walked in off the street…’Tom’ something, ‘Tom…Batty-yuck’. From Ohio. Showed me his portfolio. Great stuff, much better then my work. Told ‘im thanks but no thanks! Shit, he’d have had my job!”

Of course it’s up to Darin, the high school newspaper comics legend, to cheer up Mr. Holt, and it seems to work. Hopefully he’ll omit the part about the Comic-Con attendee who called Phil’s namesake “an old-fashioned piece of junk.”

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