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by | December 17, 2022 · 10:30 pm

It’s Just The Wasted Years So Close Behind

today

And here it is, my last-ever Sunday FW strip. I’ve always had mixed feelings regarding the Sunday strips. Sometimes they’re annoyingly invasive and have nothing whatsoever to do with anything, other times they’re just weird and difficult to say much about, like with those horrible comic book covers with the always-wry reality bubbles. Honestly, they mostly just kind of suck, and I’d bet that every other SoSF host agrees, too. You see that second Sunday strip of your shift and it’s almost always so demoralizing. I’m trying to recall my favorite Act III Sunday strip of all-time, but I’m totally drawing a blank. That’s the kind of impact the Sunday strips make.

Ending on a down note…yup, that’s sounds about right. Maybe he’s setting up a big “Lost”-like ending here, where everyone gathers in a gauzily-lit non-denominational church to smile and dance around all stupidly. Or maybe everyone in FW was actually dead the whole time. Except for Lisa, who imagines the whole thing in the one moment before SHE dies, again!

Or maybe everyone will just walk around aimlessly for no reason, I dunno. I guess he had to cram Dinkle in there somehow, but none of this explains anything about Harley and the helmet, which were all the rage two weeks ago. When you get right down to it, this is what BatYarn is all about…boring hackery. It’s been over a decade since he last did an arc anyone might consider “good” or even merely “OK”. And obviously that isn’t changing now.

Great Moments In FW Arc Recap History

Jan. 10-23, 2011
Wally travels to Colorado to train with and take ownership of Buddy, his new companion dog.

All this Bingo talk reminded me of FW’s most beloved character, Buddy The Dog, who debuted in what was probably the “best” Act III arc of all time. By “best” I mean the most well-received, in general. At the time I was trying too hard, and I failed to recognize that by FW standards, it was a relatively upbeat, happy and hopeful little story, featuring an adorable dog AND a combat veteran. I should have known better. You can be “edgy” and all, but not all the time and definitely not when veterans and service dogs are involved, because there’s no way you won’t come across as anything more than a real dick. It was a lesson worth taking to heart, so thanks O.B. Dan, wherever you are.

Anyhow, Buddy was a good, good boy, and deserved WAY better than what BatHack had in store for him. Torturing him on Ferris wheels and at heavy metal concerts, a thousand “he’s my Buddy” gags, then seemingly written out of the strip entirely, Buddy merited a hell of a lot more than that. Meanwhile, the strip is crawling with cats. I guess that for BatYam, dogs are like women, and he has no idea how to write for them. Zing.

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by | June 2, 2022 · 10:30 pm

Mal. Bad. In the Latin.

Link to Today’s Strip.

Logan is playing an age old scheme. A game as old as the rolodex and the address book. She’s not really interested in Malcolm now, in fact, never really wanting to see him again, but still wants to keep the echo of a line open. Another invisible thread in her bundle of similar invisible threads so that, when time gets short or she get tired of the hunt, she can yank on that bundle and see which fish haven’t been caught yet. See which fish have gone from bony bait to a trophy. Catch and release romance.

erdmann and newagepalimpsest had a different take on Malcolm and Logan reiterating over and over to each other that this is their last date:

And…wow. The nihilistic existential dread in the idea that you are an unimportant fictional character that is doomed to not only cease to exist, but cease to be remembered, the moment the eye of your uncaring creator finally passes from you. That you are conscious and aware only in this meaningless moment, and all that you have is the companionship of those trapped in the same hell, teetering on the edge of the cliff that will plunge both of you into damnatio memoriae. That is some psychological horror that Batiuk never has the guts or ambition to delve in to.

I feel sick.

Existential horror isn’t the only nightmare we’re subjected to today. We also have a visual monstrosity in the background of the first panel. In fact, you guys have been spotting weirdos in the background all week. I wonder what it is like to experience the Funkyverse from their eyes. What their stories might be.

“Jeremy ‘Jay’ Raffe knew that wearing his hair down would hide the damage from the accident, that horrible day with the taffy puller that had changed his life forever. He’d grown his hair out intending to do just that. But…gradually he had realized, self-acceptance is all about control over what you choose to be. You cannot be a freak without your consent. And if he was going to be a freak, it would be for the manbun he chose, and not the neck that he didn’t.”
Paul Roberts’ mother told him that his father was a great man, a great man who had worked for great men. Before he’d left her, he’d shown her a Philips-Norelco PC80 color broadcast camera, and said that when his son was old enough to lift it, he should take what was under it and come find him. She’d only find out later about all the cameras. All the cameras, all the women, and all the green plaid shirts. Dozens of boys and men, travelling the country, wearing the emerald flags of their patrimony, hoping to find their father, and instead finding brothers with the same story and the same dream. Many had stopped the search for Father Roberts, taken off their shirts and changed their names…but Paul still held out hope. Even as his shirt faded, his dream never died. That someday from out of the crowd he would feel a hand on his shoulder, and a voice calling him, “Son.”
“‘Seven days….” the childlike voice had whispered over the phone. But Charles ‘Chet’ Bruin wasn’t too concerned. His buddy, Seth, knew he had the tape and knew he was going to watch it once he’d dug his parents’ old VHS player out of the downstairs closet. It was just a senior prank. ‘Seven Days’ to graduation. Much Lulz for the TikTok.

Chet was running home after the ceremony to grab his trunks when he heard a crash from the living room. He ran in to see his dad’s precious 146 inch Samsung LED flatscreen had fallen off the wall. When he lifted it, underneath he found her, soaking wet in a nightgown. A little on the wan side, maybe, but kinda cute. She looked up at him with the palest blue eyes. He had to at least give it a shot.

“You wanna go to a graduation party?” Chet asked. “My sister has a swimsuit that would probably fit you.”

She smirked at him. Then opened her mouth impossibly wide. And Chet knew, it was gonna be a good party.”

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by | February 2, 2019 · 10:30 pm

There’s Always Someone Around You

Link to today’s strip.

And another strip unavailable for preview.  Of course, that’s typical for Sundays so no surprises there.  I dare say, if I may be so bold, that it has been quite some time since we last saw Funky and Les running.  Or we might just get more Dinkle.

Anyway, for my first time back in the chair in a while, let’s recall the wonders we witnessed recently during my stint:  Wally got a pizza party and Dinkle looked for food.  When your strip is just jammed full of action and adventure like that, you should certainly expect the awards to roll on in!   You’d also expect people to buy your books, not only for themselves but as gifts for others!  I mean, who wouldn’t want a boxed set of Dinkle’s entire Claude Barlow witlessisms?  Sure, maybe the Norms would balk, but they’re not on award committees so they can be ignored.  And ignored with gusto!

Well!  That’s it for me, at least for the present.  It’s time to hand off this cold, damp slice of pizza off to the Stunningly Suave SpacemanSpiff85!    He’ll focus his fearsome frap-ray blaster on the festering fools who fill Funky‘s foul fiefdom–for a fortnight!

Thank you all for your indulgence!  And now, exit–stage right!

 

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by | October 14, 2011 · 12:00 am

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It was like Facebook but in the real world?  Has Tom B ever been to Facebook? Unless Crazy’s idea of chatting up the staff or other customers included begging them to join his mafia or showing random strangers pictures of his neice, I doubt it was much like Facebook.

I wonder if the real Village Booksmith sells DVDs or CDs, or just old back issues of Readers’s Digest.  Either way, getting accosted by my weird mailman at a bookstore would be enough to drive me away, or go nuclear on his butt.

Crazy Harry: “So what book did ya get?”

Me: “The joys of animal sex! I’ve always heard about it and was kind of curious. Lots of horse stuff in it.  I’m more of a marsupial man myself but kangaroos are hard to come by in Ohio…”

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