Link To The Next One
I remember that arc. It went something like this:
“Dad, I’m really sorry but I simply can’t allow you to drive anymore. It’s just not safe.”
“Beer nuts! Mom? Happy Arbor Day! Huh?”
“Now dad, don’t be that way. You know I’m only looking out for your best interests.”
(Morton lights up a Marlboro Light)
“Ah, that’s better. While I respect and appreciate your concern, I am also offended, as I obviously still have the cognitive and physical abilities required to operate a motor carriage.”
Although perhaps my memories are a bit hazy, as there was a lot going on in the strip at that time. Good thing Funky didn’t entrust Linda with Morton’s keys, as he would have easily found them while Linda was on the phone complaining, then driven himself into Westview Gorge like how Bull did. And right now Morton is WAY sharper than Bull was near the end of his run.
Link To This One
It’s funny, because just a few years ago Morton didn’t have an imagination at all! At least they’re still both clothed and for that, we should be thankful. Obviously BatYam caught part of some rock band biopic and thought it’d be “very funny” if yadda yadda yadda and so forth. At least Morty finally stopped with the demonic sex offender leering, at least for now. The whole “aren’t depraved randy old coots hilarious?” thing is around 98% less funny than BatNard thinks it is and I really wish he’d leave those gags for his other, lesser known (chortle) comic strip, as I don’t read that one.
It’s funny how usually FW characters are heavily into pop-culture references from thirty years before they born, but today Morton is referencing rock and roll tropes from seventy years AFTER he was born. It’s amazing how his advanced dementia didn’t seem to affect his memory at all, which is, uh, highly unusual, I guess you could say. The way he just totally blew off that early Act III Major Prestige Arc remains one of Act III’s greatest and dumbest mysteries.
Link To Today’s Strip
“No, no. no. He still looks too friendly and cheerful. I want the reader to see Morton as a malevolent sex machine who’s going to force himself on Lillian whether she consents or not!”
“Uh…OK, I guess. Here, let me cock up that eyebrow by 40% or so and add more sneer…and how’s that?”
“No no NO! MORE sneer! MORE eyebrow! And Lillian should appear frightened, like she knows she can’t say no!”
“Hmmm (sigh). OK (sigh).”
Once again Morton is inexplicably leering in unrestrained lustful malevolence, but what really sends this one caroming over that fine line between gross and disturbing is Lillian’s line about needing to go to confession, which is just completely unnecessary. The guy is supposed to be an “elderly ladies’ man”, not a coercive sex offender. Doing an arc about Morton trying to score a “date” is one thing, but having him luring old ladies into vans is, uh, something else entirely.
I can’t believe he’s actually doing a sub-arc about Morton trying to bang Lillian in the Bedside Manor van. I’m not sure which is more disturbing, the artist’s decision to draw Mort with that demonic leer of unbridled lust or BatYam thinking this is “cute”. In fact, this one is so far “out there” it might be the highlight of the entire year so far. It’s almost like he did this one as a test, to see if anyone was still paying attention.
Link To Today’s Thing
This one is way more disturbing than an arc about an elderly jazz group jamming with a church choir has any right to be. Morton (now 100% Alzheimer’s-free) is in full horndog mode again and has a baffled Lillian in his gun sights, with all sorts of perversity on his mind. There’s a hint of malice on his face here that gives this one a bit of an uncomfortable and gross twist and completely undermines the G-rated old coot cuteness BatHam was probably going for with this one. I haven’t seen a suggestive leer like that since Frankie left town.
That Lillian head swivel is possibly one of the most hallucinogenic moments in Act III history, at least since Les argued with that talking imaginary cat. Although the talking alcoholic murder chimp was pretty trippy too, in it’s own way. And check out Morty’s schozz in panel three. That’s a honker and a half right there. And you don’t typically see a lot of ninety year olds hauling around a gut like that either. But I digress and besides, things are already revolting enough already without dwelling on the art work.
Link To Today’s Thing
Thanks to everyone who held down the fort since my last stint! So based on all available evidence thus far, Dinkle went over to Bedside Manor, told the Manorisms they had a gig, then loaded them into some sort of cargo van without telling anyone where they were going. That nursing home’s ombudsman must have quite a full schedule. Bedside Manor might want to consider some sort of key card entry system or something, as right now anyone can just wander in and lead the residents God-only-knows where.
And speaking of God, what’s Walt’s problem? Is he skittish about churches specifically or being indoors in general? I believe it’s the former, but the gag here is so weak it leaves itself open to multiple interpretations, all of them boring. Now if we were in Act II, we’d eventually learn that Walt was involved in some sort of ghastly and tragic church fire, collapse or explosion as a youth, which would explain his pensive reaction. But this is Act III, which means it’s probably just a time-killing aside that seemed a lot funnier jotted down on a pizzeria napkin than it ended up playing out in the strip. And that’s certainly nothing new.
Link to Today’s Comic.
For someone wearing a hole in his shirt patting himself on the back for writing about safe sex in the nursing home, Batiuk didn’t even do the barest minimum of research for any part of this strip at all.
Here’s five questions that immediately came to mind when reading today’s offering. I was able to answer them in seconds using ‘Grandpa Google.’
1.) Does Medicare cover Viagra? NOT USUALLY.
The only reason you could get Medicare to cover Viagra is if you had it prescribed by a doctor to treat pulmonary arterial hypertension. ED drugs are not covered by Medicare part D.
2.) Is Viagra expensive? NOT ANYMORE.
In June of 2017 Pfizer’s patent on sildenafil ran out, allowing anyone to produce generics. The price dropped from 60-70 dollars a pill, to the price today which can be well under 10 dollars for the right generic.
3.) Is Viagra a little purple pill? NO. Viagra is blue. Viagra has always been blue. Viagra is known all over as, “The Little Blue Pill.”
4.) So what is the ‘Little Purple Pill’? NEXIUM
The antacid Nexium uses the phrase, ‘The Purple Pill’ or ‘The Little Purple Pill’ in many of it’s TV commercials.
5.) If Mort’s been taking Nexium instead of Viagra, what are the likely consequences? DEMENTIA.
Link to Today’s Comic.
“I know what safety is! A wax pessary affixed with acacia gum! Just like my dad taught me!”
This really does confuse me. One, Mort is in a NURSING HOME, not a assisted living or retirement home. Where is he getting ‘safety’ materials if neither Funky nor the staff is providing them? I assume the staff would be providing them, and thus they would know that Mort didn’t need to have this uncomfortable talk with his son. Unless he’s bumming them off a friend.
And while it’s good that he won’t be getting any young nurses pregnant, I wonder if he knows there are plenty of great STD’s that most ‘safety’ measures don’t protect against. Warts, herpes, syphilis. After Mort has had the run of the place, I’m guessing Bedside Manor is crawling with more crabs than Cape Cod.
If I were Funky I’d clean off all that pubic hair covering my couch ASAP.
Link to Today’s Comic.
I guess Mort really does have Alzheimer’s. Or at least some kind of tragic memory disorder. Because no matter his prowess at identifying erogenous zones, I can’t imagine he would be getting much action in school in 1945, when most girls were hoping to make it to the altar untouched, and birth control was not nearly as accessible.
He also knows exactly nothing about bees. Bees don’t have kings. They have drones. Drones have no stingers. Have no fathers. And can only have sex once because the act of impregnating a queen rips out their guts. If they don’t find a virgin queen to go out with a bang, they are driven from the hive in autumn to die of starvation and cold.
But maybe he means he is more like a male Queen Bee. When a Queen Bee is born, it immediately fights in a highlander style battle to the death with all of her virgin queen sisters. A Surviving Queen Bee gets to have sex a few times, but all within a couple days, during swarming. Once her spermatheca is full, she will never have sex again. Instead she becomes the baby factory of a new hive, creating more than a thousand babies a day, every day, until she gets too old.
When she gets old she stops producing as much queen pheromone. She is then replaced by the workers in a procedure known as “supersedure”. Her sterile worker daughters will raise new queen larvae.
When a new queen becomes available, the workers kill the reigning queen by “balling” her, clustering tightly around her. Death through balling is accomplished by surrounding the queen bee and raising her body temperature, causing her to overheat and die.
So death from exposure, disembowelment during sex, sororicide, or being smothered to death by his own progeny; which would you like to see happen to Mort?
Link to Today’s Comic.
Holly’s thousand yard stare into the middle distance is absolutely haunting today. If she actually managed to look at her son, she would realize that he seems to have de-aged about ten years.
It’s also seemed strange at first that Funky has pulled up a wooden chair rather than sit on the couch with his father. But then again, I wouldn’t want to be sitting on anything contiguous with my father’s loins when discussing carnal matters. Also Funky is probably afraid of getting crabs.
Looks like the rest of the week will be this conversation between two doughy-faced doppelgangers barely differentiated by hair color. Yay. My booze budget will be through the roof.
Link to Today’s Comic.
Yes Funky, you are living proof that your father had intercourse with your mother at least once. That is, in fact, how humans reproduce. Not the asexual budding process that you seemed to have assumed for the first sixty years of your life. I would say we need a paternity test to be sure it was Mort who knocked on heaven’s door to bring to earth your doughy face, but given the the family resemblance, we can safely go with Nasus semper certa est.
This is nearly unbearable. However, let us at least attempt to learn and grow from our pain.
According to Webster’s online: “Lothario comes from The Fair Penitent (1703), a tragedy by Nicholas Rowe. In the play, Lothario is a notorious seducer, extremely attractive but beneath his charming exterior a haughty and unfeeling scoundrel. He seduces Calista, an unfaithful wife and later the fair penitent of the title. After the play was published, the character of Lothario became a stock figure in English literature. For example, Samuel Richardson modeled the character of Lovelace on Lothario in his 1748 novel Clarissa. As the character became well known, his name became progressively more generic, and since the 18th century the word lothario has been used for a foppish, unscrupulous rake.”