Pete – Page 74 – Son of Stuck Funky

Dot The Eyes

Hi folks! SoSfDavidO here with another sneak peek into the workings of what went into making a comic book way back in the early 2000s in today’s strip.

Hey, great, just what this strip needs, another pudgy bald white guy that’s impossible to tell from another! I’m not sure what’s going on with Pete’s eyes but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt on drugs and chalk it up to late night 4-Chan browsing sessions while downing a 6-pack of Jolt Cola.

Panel three Pete looks– well, I can’t read that expression at all but I think Batuik was going for “shocked” at the idea of of killing off a superhero for ratings. I mean, it’s not like DC Comics did that way back in 1992 or something.

It’s when in the Funkytime line, the early oughts? Comic companies were already crapping out zombie-variant themed books with multiple foil covers and crossing storylines over in such a way you had to buy 16 comics a month just to follow your favorite X-Man. The fact it’s all about the moolah should have been obvious to Pete even back in Westview when he was a collector.

Repete Week

Hi folks! SoSfDavidO here with a tip o the Funky Fedora for Beckoning Chasm’s most excellent stint here snarking! I feel like I’m following a bear on a unicycle juggling flaming chainsaws but here goes my hand at snarking on today’s strip.

From the looks of things, the Mr. Sponge story is still going on. Forgive me for a stifled yawn, but I don’t find story arcs about comic book writers all that… ABSORBING. Let’s SEA what TomBat came come up with after WETTING our appetite last week for this comic drama.

From the looks of things, it’s some kind of Popeye cross over? Is that misshapen blob wearing circus pants supposed to be recognizable as a human being? A word balloon is coming out of it, so I guess so.

Buckle up, ’cause we’re about to be treated to a full week of Tombat imagining what it was like to work for a major comic publisher in the early 2000s!

The Never Mind

Link to today’s strip.

Let’s leave aside the fact, a year or so ago, that the Lord of the Late was revealed to be just an aspect of Pete’s personality. That alone should banish him from the strip. (Imagine a monster, long since revealed to be Old Man Carruthers, the Caretaker, returning to menace the Scooby Gang as the same monster. They’d go right to the mask-pulling without even pausing for a musical number.)

Let’s also leave aside the charming picture of Pete furiously picking his nose in the penultimate panel. And let’s leave aside what is going on with the hand in panel four (first one on the bottom).

Instead, I have to wonder–has Tom Batiuk ever read a comic book? Because Super Villain Rule Number One is that you have to bedevil your designated hero at every opportunity. Saying “I’ll let the internet be mean to him” is just not done. Imagine the Joker refusing to plot against Batman because he notices the Batmobile parked in a loading zone or something, and is just giddy at the idea of Batman getting a traffic ticket. I mean, why is the Joker even there if he’s not going to act?

Same with the Lord of the Late. Why is even here, if his sole purpose is to announce that he’s not going to do anything? Making Pete “woefully late” is all he does. (Well, in theory. In actual fact, Pete always comes up with a remarkably stupid idea to save his career at the last moment.)

Granted, that’s not the worst thing a Funky Winkerbean character can do. At least it’s not Owen, asking why Humphrey Bogart didn’t use his jet-pack to rescue Ingrid Bergman in that poorly thought-out Casablanca film. It’s not Holly telling Dick Tracy, “It’s not what you eat, it’s when you eat it.” And it’s not Les doing, well, anything.

I mean, he’s not really here solely so we can hear about “internuts,” “twitter tots” and “tweet revenge” is he? Because that’s just sad. Look, Mr. Batiuk, I know you don’t enjoy criticism–few people do. But here’s how you get it to stop. Start actually writing stories, using interesting characters, and–this is key–ask for a new editor, one who will push you to use your strengths rather than sign-off on your work without even reading it.

Yes, I know, that’s not going to happen. It’s far easier to insult people and get all huffy than it is to change the path of a runaway truck. So it’ll be all dreck, all the time, on the way to that magical 50th. The thing is, the critics will be right along for the ride–you can’t shake them by having nothing happen in your strip, because that’s a choice as well.

Well, folks, I can see the sunshine finally appear as my SoSF guest-host stint finally comes to an end (for now). Please welcome David O as your new dungeon master starting tomorrow, as we ask the musical question, “Whose idea was this?”

We Love It THIS MUCH!

Link to today’s strip.

Ah, the fickle world of publishing, where the trashing of your dream character, just to stir up sales, is a regular event. Where palpable alarm and twisted anger morph instantly into fervid enthusiasm. Look at the guy in the white shirt in panel one–now that’s someone so angry he’s warping his face. Hope it doesn’t stick that way, buddy. Dopey McGlasses, on the other hand, goes from stunned to happy with such ease he even does that Hummel thing with his hands to show how much he loves this idea.

My impression of this arc is that we are meant to disapprove of the way in which publishers demand that characters transform from happy and bright-eyed to dark and gloomy. I hope I’m wrong, because this, coming from the man who writes and draws Funky Winkerbean, is too ironic by half.

Anyway, I’m glad the Mega Men are all enthusiastic. Because the actual readers of this comic strip can share in none of the emotions on display here–not for us the gobsmacked alarm, the face-melting rage, the burning anger (look at GroverShave) or the unbridled enthusiasm of the last panel. Because we’ve all been locked out of this story. It’s people discussing a comic book character we’ve never seen. We don’t know if sales are down, or if the character is in danger of irrelevancy, or if the book might get cut if not for Pete’s clone-strategy. We’ve never seen a bit of Mister Sponge as he is currently, so his new direction means nothing. Even “Sophomore Sightings” made a few appearances in the strip and, apparently, it was not requested that it become dark and dreary like poor Mr. Sponge.

Of course, there is a bright side for us in today’s offering–the surety that we’re not idiots. Today’s strip reminds us that we don’t require t-shirts or easels to know where we are and where we’re working, unlike the intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic who need these things to work at Mega Comics. That easel in particular is great–normally, one might expect a sales chart or something, but that would require actual story-telling ability, a hint of what’s at stake, so instead it’s just the logo. Just sitting there, like a prop. I bet it has to be on display at every meeting or there’s a panic: “Oh Hell, where are we working? What are we doing? Who am us, anyway?”

On second thought, I’m betting this isn’t anywhere near “Mega Comics” headquarters. This is just a bunch of Pete’s friends all play-acting. They’re sitting around wondering why they got fired and fantasizing about being big shots in the comics world.

I think that’s a much better scenario; the only flaw is that it requires Dopey Pete to have friends, which is pushing things a bit far.

And, just to leave you with some entertainment….

Ex-Sponged

Link to today’s strip.

Well, Darin sure looks dumbfounded by today’s revelation, but I suspect that’s his default state anyway. And across town, at Mega Comics headquarters, that one editor (who looks like Sesame Street’s Grover has shaved his face) looks equally astonished. He may be thinking, “Haven’t we gone over this road several dozen times in comics? Spider-Man was a clone for a while…comic books these days seem packed to the gills with clones…”

(That’s my hazy recollection. Unlike some I could name, I haven’t followed comics for several decades so all my info is second-hand.)

GroverShave may also be thinking something along the lines of, “Say, isn’t this a really stupid idea? Why would a hero’s arch-enemy clone that hero, rather than kill him? Is the clone programmed to let Doctor Centipede free just as he’s about to capture him? Isn’t that kind of annoying, having his schemes stopped all the time by his own creation? Should Pete go back to his old job of bringing us coffee, while simultaneously shutting up?”

And here we have the number one problem with “tell, don’t show.” Since we’ve never had a glimpse of The Amazing Mister Sponge (or TAMS for short), much less any hint of his adventures, none of this means anything to anyone. So what if TAMS is a clone? It changes nothing. Our lives, hitherto untouched by TAMS, have not had their courses altered in the slightest by this latest development. Even the characters here are just chatting–there’s certainly no hint at all of Pete bemoaning that he is being asked to change the nature of his signature character into something else. There’s no sense of loss, or dreams slipping away, or anything…it’s just another day for Pete, and like most days, it ends with your creations ground down under commercial pressures.

Or so we assume, again. Pete looks excited in the last panel, but is that because the idea appeals to him, or is he simply desperate to keep his job? Without a hint, we’re just looking at bad drawings spouting bad dialogue, with nothing to tie either to any human experience.

I hate to say it, but the scenario below has more of a connection with an audience–any audience.

Yes…above, everything revolves around Les, as Tom Batiuk clearly wants. But at least in this scenario, there’s someone we can hate. The Amazing Mister Sponge? I have no opinion about him one way or the other. I’ve been given no opportunity to form an opinion of any kind…which, given the reception Mr. Batiuk’s work usually gathers, may be by design.