Ewww, yuck. The Delicate Genius is sequestered away in his dreary studio, slaving away on his cancer book prequel or sequel or whatever the f*ck it is, as Cayla waits on him hand and foot because he’s either too cheap or too lazy to buy himself a coffee maker for his garage office. What a dick. Hopefully this is just a one-off Sunday strip and not the start of yet another Dick Facey, The Delicate Genius arc, as I’m just not ready for another one of those yet. Get a load of that look on his face in panel three, all smug and self-satisfied with his wordsmithing, like he’s just too clever for this world. What a dick.
Tag: Les
Novel Idea
I had no idea Les was teaching a class in comic books but it makes sense, considering Westview’s entire economy runs on the currency of comics, pizza and heartache.
It’s almost weird seeing Les without his yellow shirt in today’s strip— it’s like Charlie Brown without his striped shirt!
The Lights In The Sky Are Stars
This could be kind of sweet, if we liked these characters even slightly. Since they have been deliberately fashioned to be as unlikable as possible, instead this is just three panels of wasted space.
It’s interesting how the viewpoint shifts–in panel one, Les starts with “I’m,” meaning he (as usual) only cares about his own feelings. In panel three, Cayla goes for the “We’ll,” somehow hoping to include herself. Does she really think she’ll ever be included in Les’ world?
I can’t really think of anything else to say about this one, so on to the comment section wi’ ye!
Blightmare
Here’s something I like about today’s strip. No, it’s not the idiotic word-play. It’s not the artwork, the falling leaves, or the grotesque slab of Les’ greasy hair in panel two. (Seriously, look at that. I mean, we all want him to melt in agony, yet here it is and it isn’t any fun at all!)
No, what I like are the expressions in panel three. Those are three of the most bitter, most miserable people in the world. Even the guy who’s delivering the pun doesn’t look pleased with himself–he looks as if he’s really loathing himself for having to do this.
What we see here are three people realizing that they are mere toys in the hands of an angry god, and they must dance for his pleasure or burn. They have one freedom left: the freedom not to smirk at a pun. They can withhold their approval in this one thing without fear of annihilation.
No wonder both Les and Cayla envy Les’ dead wife. Even though the dead can never rest, they can’t die again. either.
Of course, Les’ expression in panel three is typical of him when someone else delivers wordplay. It just galls him when someone beats him to the punline. I recall Barry Balderman’s remark about “Life is like masking tape, the more you use, the less you have” (or whatever he said). Les’ face then was just Boy do I hate you. Boy do I hate you. Lisadamnit, I’m supposed to do the clever stuff.
Given what passes for “clever” in these parts, I suspect most cast members would be happy to pass it off to Les. “Happy” being the completely wrong word, of course….
Long Arm of the Lawn
Or, even better, Long Yarn of the Yawn.
I remember reading Dick Tracy years ago, and a retired police chief had opened a gardening supply store named Lawn Order. I thought that was pretty clever, as puns go.
This? This isn’t clever. I bet there are hundreds of tree-care folks who use this as an actual slogan. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me at all of Tom Batiuk was driving around, spotted this on the side of a truck, and thought Well, there’s a daily strip right there.
I don’t know what is more sad. That Tom Batiuk did twenty years of gag-a-day strips, and thirty years of bland garbage, or that he actually thinks those thirty years are what will constitute his fame.
(Yes, in the “thirty years” I’m including from now to March, 2022. That’s the only endpoint left here.)
