Tag: Les

Dad Will Love A Shoelace Dispenser!

Link to today’s strip, when it appears.

Saturday’s strip was not available for preview…

–which, when you think about it, must be an awful lot like what it’s like for Tom Batiuk, actual writer and drawer of the strip, over the past couple of years.  Let’s listen in!*

“Okay, I need a strip to end the week.  Where was I with these stories?  Oh, again…ugh! Open, file, browse…uh…NO NO NO.   Digging out the spreadsheet is too much work–why can’t new technology work the way I want it to?–the hell with it–I’ll wing it!  So…let’s do a comic book tribute!  Oh wait–it’s Saturday, not Sunday…  Hm.  How about…(pause)…someone waxes nostalgic about how things were better back in the 80’s?   I could have…uh…Funky…yeah, he’ll work–be all peeved that Sony’s mini-disc never really caught on.  Or maybe laserdiscs?  Yeah–I could have Funky holding one delicately by the edges and saying how great it was that you could ‘hold a real movie in your hands’ and it’s, like, Back to the Future, or Sinbad of the Seven Seas, or Stallone in Cobra.  Yeah, yeah, this is great.  Only…maybe too great.  I could probably get a week out of this.  A week?  C’mon, Tom, who’re you kidding?  Two weeks!  Yeah!  Lemme get out the ol’ sketchpad, and–

“–oh crap.  I still have to do this damn Saturday thing.  Damn it.  Just when I’m on a roll, too!  Oh, ah, let’s see, Bull tells student athletes, the ones he hates, to go get a few desks.  And he says ‘You might consider this a desk job!‘  Yeah, that’s good.  Or maybe something about ‘This is as close as you’ll get to TV coverage’?  Oh, that’s good, too–man, I sense another week coming up!   –no, no no!  I gotta get this done.  Okay.  Okay.  Everything is calm.  Mental coin toss.  Going with the ‘desk job’ thing.  Yes…[draws some stuff] another day’s work…worked out.  Time to warm up the VHS, the popcorn maker, and delve!”

*THE MANAGEMENT RESPONDS.  The preceding paragraphs are done in the spirit of satire, and do not reflect the views or thoughts of Tom Batiuk, the employees of Batom, Inc, the employees of Bantom, Inc, or anyone else real or imagined, including buildings and landmarks.  All rights and ownership are possessed by the copyright owners; any suggestion otherwise is the product of a deranged mind and authorities have been alerted.  All trademarks are the property of their respective companies.    People who were total jerks have been fired.  If this post contained actual content, you would have been instructed by the government to seek shelter in the designated areas now appearing on your television screen.  Authorities urge private citizens to stay inside their homes behind locked doors. Do not venture outside for any reason until the nature of this crisis has been determined, and until we can advise what course of action to take. Keep listening to radio and TV for special instructions as this crisis develops further.  This is not a test.

The Biggest Prize in Sport

Link to today’s strip.

My God, look at Bull’s face in panel two.  That’s the perfect Funky Winkerbean mask of weariness and resignation.  Remember what I said the other day, about how Tom Batiuk has lost the ability to tell jokes?  This right here is the proof.  If Bull was wearing even a slight smile, his remark could be taken as a joke, about…uh…how the girl’s basketball team needs more training?  Or they’re larger and stronger than the football players?  Or something?  Instead Bull has the expression of a man who’s about to walk that last lonley mile.  “Any word from the governor?”  Young Bob Dylan, tangled up in blue in the lower left, would be wise to quit glowering and listen in; he might get a great song out of this, maybe even a whole album!  Maybe something like “Idiot Wind-Bag.”

Lastly, there is a bit of amusement on display as history is about to repeat itself:  Les, not paying attention, is going to walk right into that purple-shirted girl who is distracted by her cell phone.  KLANG!  *OOF*  THUD.   On his trip into the past, one wonders what Les Moore would tell his younger self.  One suspects it would be something like, “Buy that Starbuck Jones comic, kid.”  After all, if your mind only has one track….

The Joy of Sets

Link to today’s strip.

And just like that, we’re off on another storyline.   Will it be more interesting than Planning-The-Coming-Reunion?  Probably not–are you kidding?  This is Funky Winkerbean–but we’re going to get it anyway.

You know, when someone simply pops in storylines only to abruptly drop them before they conclude, it makes it difficult for the readers to care.  When anything can happen, and any story can get dropped for no apparent reason, then why invest any interest in them?  Presumably, Tom Batiuk would like us to care about these characters and be interested in what happens to them.  If Les and Cindy were attacked by a giant spider just now, I’m sure he would prefer that we be concerned about them rather than yawning it off.  This isn’t the way to do it.  Unless Mr. Batiuk is actually hoping to shed readers, I can see no reason for his current strategy.

So, anyway, Cindy offers her old newsroom set to the school.  I assume she means the desks, and perhaps the backdrops; I doubt anything valuable like lights or a mixing board will be part of the package.  Why desks and a backdrop would be things the school would covet, I don’t know, especially as the station is shedding them for something better.   Last time we saw any “video journalism” at the school, it was just a face shot of Owen saying something stupid.  Does he need a new desk for that?

Hairline Crack

Link to today’s strip. I’m not sure, but I think today’s strip is supposed to be a “joke.”  You might remember jokes, they’re stories with a humorous climax (as Mr. Spock observed in Star Trek IV–a moment of silence for Mr. Nimoy, please). They’re also things that this strip abandoned because it wanted to say serious things about serious issues.  And if this is supposed to be a joke, you can tell that Tom Batiuk has kind of lost his ability to tell them.   For one thing, he should have made Cindy’s narwhal horn blonde, so it looks like her hair and not simply a printer’s error.  Unless her narwhal horn is supposed to be pure white?  Which begs another question–if you don’t know anything about Cindy’s old hairstyle, if you haven’t read this strip obsessively for 40 years, this joke will make no sense.   It’s a joke for Tom Batiuk and no one else. If this strip had a lighter tone, something like this could work.   There are strips out there that have a regular cast and use story arcs, but manage to remember that what readers want are jokes, or at least sincere attempts at jokes.  Those strips could have a well known actor, let’s call him Leonard Nimoy the  Movie Actor, fly across the country to watch old videocassettes in preparation for his role as Lisa Moore Mr. Spock, and the story could work without calling attention to how moronic and unrealistic the situation is, and we could all have a good laugh. Since this strip has made a fetish of being serious, such similar episodes call attention to themselves in ways that Tom Batiuk really resents.  And his joke-telling ability has, as noted, atrophied.  Who knows, though?  Perhaps he’s great at parties and really livens things up.  In his day job, though…. Finally, Cindy looks much younger in panel one than she does in panel two.  Dear Mr. Batiuk, a 45th anniversary still indicates a pretty good run, and it’s only a couple of years from now.  You might consider it.

In Memory Yet Gr

Link to today’s strip.

I’ve not heard of a memory board, and at first I thought it might be a “In Memorium” thing for all the students who died and thus were unable to attend.  Look at that giant pile of photos, I thought.  The high school must have been built on a toxic waste dump from an abandoned nuclear plant that was built on an Indian graveyard.

Then I saw that Cindy had a photo of Les, so I guess a memory board is just a “here’s what you looked like before you got old, fat, and bald!” poster.  But then I went back to my first thought, and I wondered if this was Cindy’s way of saying she was going to kill Les!  That would be awesome, go Cindy go!  At last a character whose dreams and aspirations we can all get behind.  Here’s to a new era in Funky Winkberbean!

Of course, back to reality–contemporary reality, of course, with its issues–we go.  Look at Les in panel one.  Oh, oh, oh, poor little unappreciated me.  Oh, woe is me, no one is capable of understanding me.  Boo hoo hoo.   I cannot understand why his face isn’t tattooed with bruises from the rain of punches he must receive every day.