Pete – Page 66 – Son of Stuck Funky

“I’ve Suffered for My Art–Now It’s YOUR Turn”

I think we’ve reached some kind of Batiukian plateau here. Nostalgia-Darin is distressed at the amount of work ahead, but Nostalgia-Pete seems…worried? That Darin doesn’t have the drive for art that requires sacrifice? Is that what I’m seeing here? Because I think that’s what I’m seeing here. I mean, look at his face in panel three. That’s someone thinking, “Wh-what? You think pulling all-nighters is bad? You…you are not of The Body!”

Which contradicts everything we’ve seen about Darin and Pete, not only in the “real world” but their counterparts in Nostalgia-Vision. They hate working. They would rather complain than work. They would rather complain than eat. They would rather complain than breathe.

But now, because it involves weak wordplay, all that goes out the Batom Comics window. Pete now needs to be the Pure Comics writer, who would go without food, air, water, everything if it meant producing a comic book.

Speaking of going out the window, where is this supposed to be taking place? In the alley or something? Because who puts the company name on the inside face of a door? Well…maybe the two clods kept asking the boss whether they worked at Batom Comics or Bantom Comics, and the boss finally had enough and hired a sign painter, or perhaps…I’ve put more thought into this than someone I could name.

The Lost Weekend

Link to today’s offal.

So, apparently Starbuck Jones has another sidekick in addition to Jupiter Moon and Isaac the robot, apparently named Moon Mile Meek, and about whom we have heard nothing before this day. Way to keep the quality control on high, there. This seems to flatly contradict the advice Tom Batiuk was given (reprinted on his blog), about referring to characters by name, etc, so new readers are quickly brought up to speed.

I happen to agree with that, by the way. While there are certainly ways to make it really awkward (“Miss Jameson, you may be the best-selling mystery author of all time, but even I, your agent, don’t know why you need to spend a night in a haunted house!”), I’ve seen movies where the lead character wasn’t given a name until halfway though the movie. It’s nice to know who the characters are, so when they’re not around and someone refers to them, you can say “Oh, that guy. That cartoonist guy who draws that dull strip.”

So, this Moon Mile Meek might be anyone. Perhaps on your way home someone will pass you in the dark, and you will never know it, for they will be from outer space, and their name will be Moon Mile Meek! Can you prove that it didn’t happen?

At any rate, or rather because of, we have today’s thing. Those characters in panel one are really poorly drawn–I mean, that is some seriously bad artwork, but…no matter, for we’re off to Nostalgia Park. See, it’s funny because the boss is a fat stupid guy, and the artists are all like “Whoa” because they have to make a space comic in just a couple of days. You can start slapping your knees…now.

Actually, I don’t see how the Deflated Due have a problem here. They can just concoct a story where Starbuck, Moon Mile, Jupiter and Isaac are all sitting around the space office, space bitching because the space boss expects them to go out on space patrol, and they’d rather not. They’d rather wax space nostalgic about the olden days when–and here’s the space twist–old TV movies were made and the staff totally hated working on them.

They hated working so much, they actually broke the space barrier and space hated it.

The Jerks Who Irk

Link to today’s bilge.

It’s been said far too many times before. Here are two clods given a once in a lifetime opportunity for a dream job, and all they can do is moan and bitch, bitch and moan. The appropriate reaction from Mr. Toothpaste-Tube would be to say, “Okay, guys, we’ve had enough–if you can’t cooperate with us and produce something, if all you can do is smirk and make moronic remarks, we really don’t need you. So get your stuff and get out. And remember, you signed NDAs so don’t even think about posting anything online. Prison hasn’t gotten any nicer, and don’t believe anyone who says a spell inside will build character.” I’m sure that if Mason Jarr the Actor objected, he’d be told, “Okay, so you don’t want to be part of this franchise and want to go back to made-for-TV weepers. That can be arranged.” I’m sure Mason Jarr the Actor would suddenly remember what “professionalism” means.

You’d expect Pete and Darin to be interested in a title like that. It’s no worse than a Marvel or Lucasfilm title. It’s actually imaginative. And, when your main claims to fame are The Amazing Mister Sponge and illustrating a Les Moore comic book, respectively, I don’t think you have the right to criticize the works of others. Not by a long shot.

Seriously, these characters are infuriating. Fortunately, Mr. Toothpaste-Tube is doing his voodoo mouth-twich in the last panel, and we can see both Darin and Pete withering to dust right before our eyes.

When a cartoonist is clearly tired of producing work, and would far rather day-dream about an imaginary comic-book company, it’s time for that cartoonist to seriously consider retiring. Instead, what he does is create two characters–an “artist” and a “writer” so both jobs are represented–and give them the same disdain for work and longing for nostalgia. I guess in the case of the characters, Bantom Comics is (or was) a real-life publisher, so at least they’re waxing nostalgic about things that actually happened. Not that I think that’s any better; wasted effort is still wasted effort, no matter the inspiration.

The only thing of interest here is Mr. Toothpaste-Tube. Really, that guy is just weirding me out. He looks like Butt-head’s dad.

“Huh-huh, huh huh huh. Producers are dumb.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heh heh heh heh heh heh. It’s like, they demand things of true artists.”

“Uh…what? Huh-huh, huh huh huh.”

“Ahhh…I dunno, Butt-head, you tell me. Heh heh heh heh heh heh.”

Where Dreams Go to Be Smashed to Flinders

Link to today’s strip.

One thing I neglected to mention about yesterday’s episode…and I have to confess, I didn’t mention it because it seemed so ordinary that comment never occurred to me. But later I realized that it was ordinary in the real world, and not in Funky Winkerbean. In Funky Winkerbean, it was the proverbial sore thumb, and it shoulda stuck out like one.

Of course, I’m talking about the fact that Becky got a smart-phone app, and she was happy with it. She was pleased with what she got, and looked forward to using it.

It was not, repeat not, something substandard that had foisted upon her by an uncaring school administration. She didn’t even moan once!

By way of contrast, look upon the Dozing Dullards out in Hollywood, who upon hearing that the movie they are working might be certain of box-office success, can do nothing but bemoan the extra work that will befall them. Oh, the horrors of success! Oh My GOD I have to work even more?

Well, Pete–and you too, Darrin–there’s a very simple solution that will cause all your problems to disappear, and you can leap about in unending joy.

Quit. Go on up to Clay Breakdance (or whatever his name is) and tell him you’re tired of all the effort that is expected of you, and that you (so far) seem to have failed to provide. You’re both tired of working, and it’s really cutting into your nap time, and your nostalgic day-dreaming about Bantom comics. I’m sure his lips will curl just a bit as he accepts your resignations. Clay will be happy to bring in a crew who actually want to work, and don’t look upon every suggestion as a knife in the back.

And there’s a bonus for both of you! When the movie is released some months hence, and proves to be a box-office smash, you can bemoan the fact that you were cheated out of all that money. And that, no doubt, will trigger even more flashbacks.

Win-win, I say. Now, now, I know those are dirty words in the Funkyverse, but as they say–faint heart never won bitter regrets.

(It kind of makes me wonder what sort of movie Pete and Darin would make if they had complete control–what sort of cinematic turd would satisfy their notion of purity. I should note that it doesn’t make me wonder enough to actually see that movie, or hear them talk about it.)

PS: No idea who the very detailed gentleman is, but he sure seems to be someone from Real Life. Perhaps someone who lost a bet–that’s my guess, anyway.

Why So Blue?

Link To Today’s Strip

What the hell went wrong with the inking here? Why does it appear that Mopey Pete is wearing some sort of blue veil and glove combo? That crack Batom Inc. quality control team is something else again, eh? Nice work, you boobs.

I assumed they’d be jabbering about Jupiter Moon all week, but nope, instead it’s yet another remarkably clumsy segue into yet another pointless retro-pseudo sepia faux-flashback, this time featuring Cigar McBalding’s googly-eyed new car. I seriously doubt there will be ANY merchandise loot at all if these two imbeciles don’t finish writing that goddamned movie already. Now I’m no expert or anything, but I doubt the “Starbuck Jones” license holders will be too interested in sharing the wealth with a couple of whiny work-slacking goof-offs who wearily complain every time they’re given a task to complete. Just a few months ago Boy Lisa was slinging pizza in Westview, now he’s a Big City storyboarder working on a “red-hot” new superhero film, yet all he’s doing is bitching about it. Typical Westviewian, nothing’s ever good enough.