So much for “we…and I emphasize the we“, huh? The mercurial Phil Holt is content to just sit back and let Flash lay out the Subterranean universe for the rest of the team. Pete immediately sees a crossover opportunity involving an existing Atomik property. Ruby is at her desk, clearly craning her neck to get a better look at Phil Holt’s ass (“Flash” Freeman having left his ass in his other pants). Mindy looks on, saying nothing (and, ok, spoiler: she won’t be given anything to say all week). In the middle of all this, Chester thinks “Did we order a pizza?” as he is startled to see Wally enter stage left…oh, wait, that’s not Wally, it’s Darin, wearing his nerd glasses.
Tag Archives: poorly taped signs
Happy Labor Day! and a tip of the SoSF hardhat to the estimable Epicus Doomus for seeing us through the latest installment of Les’ Story. Epicus usually throws himself on the grenade of having to post on a holiday weekend, but I have seen fit to give him the holiday off for a change. You’re welcome.
Though he’s really not dead after all, Phil Holt has arrived in that Old Comics Creator Heaven known as Atomik Komix. He’s even greeted by Saint Mopey Pete himself. Phil and Flash have leeft behind their earthy grievances (to the point where they are now living together), and, thanks to Chester’s beneficence, have reunited to “write to life” the Subterranean, the project that led to the team’s breakup years ago. This development easily pushes the median age of the Atomik Komix staff well north of sixty.
Many of us have wondered why Phil felt it necessary to fake his own death in order to “work without being bothered.” He was already toiling in obscurity when Darin spotted him doing caricatures at a kiddie party. If Phil wanted Darin to have those original Batom covers (which Darin immediately decided to liquidate), it didn’t have to be via his last will and testament. What I think was behind it was this: Phil knew that his “death” would cause Flash to be wracked with guilt over losing the opportunity to reconcile. Now that he’s turned up alive, Phil gets to bask in Flash Freeman’s beaming bonhomie.
May 24, 2021 at 11:48 am
There are few things in the world I’m less interested in than Tom Batiuk writing about the plight of women in the comics industry sixty or more years ago.
As a member of our very own “bullpen” here at SoSF, spacemanspiff85 knows not just the pain of reading Funky. Winkerbean. Every. Damn. Day. Periodically, Spiff is called upon to write something interesting about it to share with the rest of us. For two weeks, after which another SoSF guide host/guest author takes over. We limit our authors to two-week stints for the sake of their psychological well-being. Were that not the rule, I’d turn the helm back over to Comic Book Harriet, whose bailiwick these “Women in Comics” arcs have become. SoSF trauma protocol dictates that CBH must rest on the sidelines (while killing it as always in the comments), and it falls to me to get us through this arc.
As a male, I must tread lightly, but here goes: editor “Stogie” Butz’ “pretty good for a girl” remark barely qualifies as a microagression, given the times. Whatever midcentury decade Batiuk’s trying to recreate here (and it could be anywhere from the 1940’s through 60’s), calling a woman “girl” in the workplace wouldn’t be automatically out of line. He’s just busting her…chops, as would any cigar chomping, no-neck cranky boss.
February 26, 2021 at 11:43 pm
I can’t believe I’m writing this, but I almost want there to be a complete tour of the new and “improved” Chateau Winkerbean tomorrow, just so our six days of sloughing through (apparently) one very repetitive day-long conversation won’t have totally been in vain.
Hate to spoil it for ya, J.J., but I have a feeling that today’s strip is about as close as we’re gonna get to seeing the actual reno in progress. Throwaway panel 1 is a lovingly detailed rendering of a gutted kitchen, chock full of the kind of details–the orange extension cord, discarded sheetrock and wood, exposed studs and electrical–that have me thinking Batty snapped some reference pix during the real-life reno of his own kitchen that inspired this arc.
Also in panel 1, to the left of the FW text, we see Holly’s profile, which tells us that they’re sitting in a room that’s just off the kitchen. Which makes me wonder how she could forget that the ice cream and everything else has been moved to another location.
Much thanks to Spacemanspiff85 for taking the helm over the past two weeks, and for having a screen name that always reminds us of how good the world of comic strips can be. I am sorry I cannot claim that “billytheskink” will make you think of anything good, but I will do my level best to cover the rest of this role effectively.
Looks like time jump #4 happened in today’s strip, because apparently May 4 is here now… and hatchet-faced white men abound! This Sha-Na-Na reject is about 25 years too late to the world of post-Silver Age comics speculation, as if copies of Rip Tide: Scuba Cop and The Scorch are headed anywhere but the bargain bin.
Also, Lisa’s Story is a graphic novel again, maybe…
I know one way the school can save money. If you’re having a guy who’s been retired for over a decade come in and do a significant part of your job for you because you’re too busy with other stuff to do it, then you probably shouldn’t have that job anymore.
So, Becky is so busy trying to steal money designated for the football team that she can’t oversee practices? What is she doing in that time? Emailing the school board? While she’s actually on the clock for her job? That seems bad.
Dinkle commenting about returning to band land is one of the funniest things in this strip in years. He has never left. He has no life outside of band. Near as I can tell he spends every day lurking behind Becky. And the only times he’s not doing that he’s writing biographies about band.
For a guy who went pretty much deaf long ago, being able to differentiate between “raising” and “raiding” is pretty damn impressive. Far, far less impressive is the fact that the “band room” is crappily taped to the inside of the door. Rather than the outside where it would actually do any good.
Finishing in third place in the fifty-and-over category in a charity cancer fun run dedicated to the memory of her husband’s dead first wife represents a “perfect day” for Cayla? Good God these people are so f*cking dull. Unambitious too. Les can only write about one topic, Cayla is overjoyed after being beaten by two other runners, Lisa wants to jog behind her former husband and his new wife forever…what a bunch of sad-sack-sorry losers. Live slow, die old and leave a weathered beaten corpse, as the old saying goes.
I was sure Batiuk felt he’d wrung every last molecule out of this motor vehicle story arc. But against Fat Les’ advice, Funky has indeed driven all the way home and back (can you believe Fat Les was enough of a sport not to alert the cops?) and returned with…a copy of his birth certificiate? Why would he not return with the original document? A business owner, Chamber of Commerce prexy, and, well, grown ass man doesn’t know that for most purposes, a Xeroxed birth certificate is worthless?
Trying to get a driver’s license under an assumed name is no joke these days. If Fat Les really thinks that’s what’s going on here, he should calmly ask “Funky Winkerbean” to wait right here please and then summon the authorities. And assuming Funky’s got his expired license with him, he doesn’t need to produce his birth certificate or anything else beside the $25.75 renewal fee. This is just payback to Funky for busting BMV Guy’s chops. And it’s working: instead of another wry retort, all Funky can muster is sputtering, Crankshaft-like indignation.