Mason Jarr – Page 26 – Son of Stuck Funky

“Remember, You’re All Going to Die”

So here we are on graduation day, and Mason’s speech is…really something. You could paste Les’ head in panel one and it would sound perfect coming from him. No wonder Mason was frightened. He certainly looks miserable now…I can kind of see the scene:

Mason (dour): I don’t know why I agreed to give the speech. I only have a few hours to prepare/I don’t see any bent nails anywhere/What can I say that will make them care?/I’ll be out in front of everyone, bare. [Sorry about that–BC] This is going to be a disaster. I have no idea what I should say.

Les (smirking): I have just the thing. (hands over a sheaf of paper)

Mason (greatly relieved): Great! (reads)

Mason (In a very, very small voice): Oh.

Welcome to Westview, Mason. You are now officially part of the Great Circle of Death. Hakuna Matata!

On a much happier note, Chullo and Glasses are graduating! That means we’ll never have to see them again! Can I get a “Hell yeah!”? Oh and Alex too! (Didn’t recognize her in all that white.)

Does Tom Batiuk realize he has no more student characters? Oh sure, there was…uh, Bernie? And…Paige? It was Paige wasn’t it? Yeah, those characters were sure fleshed out and ready to take center stage. Oh, and the Color-Change twins! Who could forget them? Other than me, I mean.

CTRL-ALT-DULL

Link to today’s strip.

Well!…and that’s that. Anyone who thought that the computer might actually do something has to be contented with some hot wheeled-away action. Yet another disappointment, one supposes, though at least memories of the “fun” Act I weren’t ruined. In other words, it could have been worse. Far worse.

The way things develop in this strip is truly unfathomable; one can’t help but wonder why the computer was brought back at all, except 1) as a tease to long-time readers, only to be dashed to earth, signifying this strip is serious so look elsewhere for “fun”; 2) as a form of “striking the set,” ie, removing anything that might be entertaining, and 3) as a means to mention Starbuck Jones yet again, though Tom Batiuk is slipping by not using his full name. Which “Starbuck” is this, Tom, I’m all confused!

Maybe now that it has, *cough*, contributed, the computer will go to Washington DC on a senior class trip! That should take, oh, half an off-screen panel.

For someone who contributed nothing at all this week, Les sure looks remarkably smug in panel one (though to be fair, that’s his default expression). And in panel two, Tom Batiuk’s itch is finally scratched and Les opens his mouth. Jim Kibblesnbits is a complete ass, but I’m willing to reduce his massive negative score by one for shutting down Les. (Personally, I would have used one fewer syllable, if you know what I mean, but then that’s me.) His stance perfectly conveys utter contempt and disdain. Oh, I’m sure the lesson we’re supposed to take is that Les is so wise and deep, such that no one is capable of swimming in his waters. They’d rather stay in the warm, ignorant shallows. Anyone who has read this strip for any length of time will take the opposing view, that Les is being deservedly beached on his deserted isle.

Jim Kibblesnbits is one of those characters who rarely appears, but like a fly discovered embedded in the lemon meringue, his rarity doesn’t lesson his loathsomeness in any way. He shines out like a rotten, crumbling sun, spraying sickly light on vast dead plateaus and their attendant population of shriveling bacteria and scrubby lichens. Today, though, in this one thing, I give him a half-lidded smirk and the offhand flick of a salute. Here, I wish more people would look to him as an example. (And nowhere else.) He’s been an ass all his life, and he’ll be an ass tomorrow, but tonight by God he’s everyone’s hero.

The three of them walking away from an already forgotten, completely despised Les is a truly poetic image, made more so by the vent lines on the locker near Les’ mouth. It looks like he’s bleating…which he probably is.

Les should be broken in half, placed in a paper bag on your worst enemy’s doorstep, then lit on fire. Ring the doorbell and prepare to be entertained.

Computer Dating

Link to today’s strip.

It seems the slavering monster I was hoping for yesterday has been revised into an old piece of computing equipment. I’m guessing this is the old Act I computer which was obsessed with Star Trek, and um, had, uh, other characteristics I’m sure. Those of you who guessed this, please collect your prize money at the gate. Of course, I think that was everyone who looked at this week’s banner, so form an orderly line, folks.

Normally this would be a welcome thing, seeing this relic from the good old days of the strip…but I don’t know. The last time something from then was brought back…well, I can’t remember what it was but I seem to recall that it was ret-conned into being something terrible. Maybe it was Donna as the Eliminator, or Franky going from dumb jock to out-and-out rapist, or…something. These strips are so anti-content that I honestly forget most of them seconds after reading. (Or at least I give it the ol’ Westview try.) Thus, whenever anything from the “funny” days appears, my reaction is not “Oh boy, we’re going to lighten things up!” but “Oh, God, we’re taking this out of the closet so we can smash it.”

At any rate, the fact that the computer “sighs” can’t be a good sign. Perhaps it has some horrible, debilitating virus, and it wants to be smashed into flinders. Which makes me wonder why Tom Batiuk has never done an “assisted suicide” arc, the story of someone who finds existence so painful that they can’t continue. Certainly there must be a lot of folks in Westview who feel that way and can’t see pain as an opportunity for a pun. Seriously, if he carried it through it might get him that Pulitzer. I’d nominate either Cayla or Funky himself.

Finally, once again, Les hovers over the proceedings like an evil angel of death (even though he’s the shortest one there, a virtual midget). He contributes nothing except making the reader hate this comic even more. Look at him in panel one: “The hate is swelling in you now. Take your weapon. I am unarmed. Strike me down with it. Give in to your anger. With each passing moment you make yourself more my servant.”

Wouldn’t it be great if Kibblesnbits accidentally tipped the computer onto Les, and it smashed his ribcage into a thousand fragments? And he made a noise like “Guuuhhh” and everyone thought that was so funny, and they couldn’t stop laughing? And they picked up the computer, and dropped it again, just so they could hear that noise and enjoy themselves?

I mean, it’s long past time Les did something funny, isn’t it? That would work for me.

In This Corner….

Link to today’s strip.

I dunno, Mr. Director Man, but everyone seems to be smiling at it so it can’t be a hideous, slavering monster that will devour all of you, so it’s hard to care. Naturally Les is right there, because of course he is. My God, what an utterly punchable face. The most loathsome man in the world.

Say, do you know how comic strips are made? Some guy–a cartoonist–scribbles a few bits of artwork down, then erases them and re-draws them until they’re as terrible as possible. Then the cartoonist decides, “How do I feel about my readers? Do I hate them, or do I really hate them?” and he writes down dialog depending on his decision. Then, he decides he really hates his readers after all, and adds Les Moore. If the cartoonist takes more than ten minutes to do all of this, he loses. Does he then start all over until he gets it right? No, don’t be silly, this is cartooning where “losing” is “getting it right.”

…I figured I’d take Tom Batiuk’s knowledge of how movies are made and apply it to a different profession. Because in reality, Jim Kibblesnbits wouldn’t be getting a check–the scene would have been re-shot and the people responsible for on-set security would, at best, be severely reprimanded. And the adults in charge of the field trip would probably be charged with reckless endangerment. Or, if they were lucky and no one saw Kibblesnbits and thus decided to get nasty, trespassing. Obviously, HeyItsDave explained this the other week, but it bears repeating every time Tom Batiuk decides his hard-won ignorance is preferable to how things actually work.

Credit where it’s due: the shift in perspective between panel one and panel two is actually pretty well handled. The presence of Les ruins both panels, but I’m sure he’s only there to represent Tom Batiuk’s middle finger to his critics. His expression for this function is perfect.

Go Forth and Be All The Failure You Can Be!

Link to today’s strip.

I was actually reading an article recently that was a bit critical of having celebrities delivering commencement addresses instead of weightier, more scholarly people. The idea was that the scholars could give wise council and practical advice, but all you’d get from celebrities would be jokes and vapid pronouncements. I don’t care one way or the other, but in this case, Principal Nate’s request surprises me.

What’s Mason done that would make him an attractive candidate? He’s an actor who is apparently frightened of speaking before a group of high school kids–and I’m thinking he’s frightened for a damned good reason. His only known credit in the strip (and the one he himself immediately names) is Dino Deer, which sounds like something the SyFy channel would reject without hesitation. True, he is in the new Starbuck Jones movie (I knew we were getting back to that) but that hasn’t even wrapped yet so there’s no telling if it will add to his luster (ie, Guardians of the Galaxy) or become a millstone (ie, Green Lantern).

His one inexplicable accomplishment is that everyone in Westview is infatuated with him–for no real discernible reason, other than he’s better looking than any other male in town. All the women at Les’ house were practically fainting when he was staying there–this for a guy who was in Dino Deer. I’m trying to think of a real-life actor who is similarly beloved at large, despite having only mediocre films under his belt.

But this is apparently just what Principal Nate is looking for–a handsome man who has some mad money, but is otherwise unaccomplished. (I’m starting to be convinced that Mason was born into wealth, and his acting is more of a hobby than a profession.) I guess this will prepare the students for the life of mediocrity that awaits them in Westview (without the “handsome” part of course, and with the “mad money” being unlikely) but it seems pretty uninspiring. I guess Nate’s idea is to get someone who can lie to them convincingly on this one day, when hope is still reachable, before their lives crash to earth the next morning.

Of course, using another, less random speaker would mean that Tom Batiuk would have to introduce a new character, and build that character until he (or she) seemed a good choice for commencement speaker. But that seems like a lot of work, so I guess Mason will do. I’m sure he would have loved using Les Moore, but not to worry, I’m sure Mason’s speech will be eerily Les-like.