Secretary of Covers

Link to today’s strip. (Vertically oriented version)

So at long last (and we do mean long) the Starbuck Jones project has been completed…we hope and pray, anyway.

Since Sunday’s strip was not available for preview, I’m assuming that we’re looking at a Starbuck Jones cover that has artwork far better than Funky Winkerbean has enjoyed since…well, the last strip not drawn by Tom Batiuk.  I’m also assuming that Mr. Batiuk has junked up the cover with word balloons and his own uninteresting characters.

What little we could see of the cover last week showed Starbuck, gun at the ready, leaping through space while clutching a blonde, large-chested woman.  Her gloved hand dragged over her forehead could either mean, “I’m getting the vapors!” or “Why do we always have to visit your friends?!”  Either way, like the women of Funky Winkerbean, it appears that the women of Starbuck Jones are either clueless or hindrances.

And finally the saga (of collecting comics*) has drawn to a close (it is fervently hoped).  Well, she still has to present the collection to Cory, who won’t appreciate it (having been shot dead the week before), but that shouldn’t take more than a Sunday strip.

And now, what have we learned?   Well, I’ve learned that Tom Batiuk can take a subject which engages his interest and turn it into something utterly boring and uninvolving.  Apparently his passion for comic books simply cannot be translated onto the page.

It would have been interesting to see Holly actively engaged in the search, to the point where she had to develop skills and strategies.  Since she started to read the stories, and apparently enjoyed them, perhaps she could adopt some of Starbuck’s tactics to use in her quest.  She could learn how to negotiate, how to evaluate a product, when to cut a deal, and so on.

But she didn’t.  She didn’t do any of those things.  With the exception of the issue bought off eBay, Holly was simply handed the damned things.  She showed no growth as a character; like all Funky Winkerbean females, she remained utterly useless and unaccountably stupid.  Most of the “heavy lifting” was done by Dead Comic Dick John, who could have steered her toward becoming a savvy collector, but instead just pointed her in a direction and said, “There’s a comic book you want, over that way.”  Even the information he gave her about comic books was just trivia (when it wasn’t factually wrong, that is).

And now the project is done, and I’m left wondering what the point of it all is (other than filling newspaper space, I mean).  In interviews, Tom Batiuk always comes across as enthusiastic and excited about his upcoming arcs, and then, when those arcs actually see the cold light of reality, they’re just…lazy and stupid and poorly thought out.

It makes me wonder if there are two Tom Batiuks out there.  There’s the friendly, engaged guy who does the interviews and personal appearances, and then there’s Tim Batiuk, who writes and draws the actual strip, based on his brother’s boastful claims.  (That actually sounds like an interesting story, doesn’t it?  Someone should do a comic strip based on that premise.  I’d read it, at least until one of the brothers got cancer.)

Ah well, such points to ponder shall have to wait, as the door is at last unlocked, and the warm sunlight filters into my dank, brick-walled cell.  Yes, folks, it’s freedom time again!  Please join me in welcoming back the fabulous DavidO, who will be locked in a tiny room serve as your host for the next two weeks!

*I have a feeling that the Starbuck Jones stories themselves could be quite interesting–the story elements hinted at are certainly there, after all.  As long as someone else writes and draws them, they could be worth reading.  Amazing, isn’t it?

Ash Friday

Link to today’s strip.

I have no idea how accurate any of this is; it would seem to me that a pencil version of a comic would be so early in the process that copyrighting it would be rather premature.  Supposedly, Jack Kirby would pencil marvelously (no pun intended) detailed landscapes in Thor and Vince Colleta would just cover them in black because he didn’t feel like inking all those details (source: Ronin Ro’s book on Lee and Kirby, Tales to Astonish).

Ordinarily, I’d defer to Tom Batiuk’s knowledge of the comic book process, but since he stumbled rather badly recently, he’s no longer my “go to” guy on this.

But this, all this, is missing the larger point.

Yesterday, Holly finally got the last issue she needed to complete Cory’s collection.   And there was much rejoicing.  Finally, this damned thing is OVER.

Today…well, she’s still looking through the comic boxes.  She has no real reason to do so….

You know what that means, right?  This isn’t over. 

No, now that she’s completed the Starbuck Jones run…now she has to find the “ashcan” versions, because of course Cory would have a great interest in obscure means to control copyright.  And of course she’ll also have to search for all the Giant Size Starbuck Jones, the digest-size reprint books, the crossover titles (Starbuck Jones meets The Kool Aid Man, Starbuck Jones versus Toyman), and on and on and on.

Listen, and understand. That Starbuck Jones quest is out there. It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.

Break A Leg

Link to today’s strip.

Ron Jeremy’s Tony [Isabella]’s overacting ought to tip off anyone that the fix was in, but Holly, being Holly, remains oblivious.  Dickhead John smirks from the back, having made fools of two of his friends.  What a special day for him!

The question here is this–

Will Holly actually pay that quarter, or will she insist on getting the issue for free, because Cory Winkerbean?

The Buck Stops Her

Link to today’s strip. 

At long last, Starbuck Jones himself appears in the strip, and proves to be just as much a dick as everyone else.  Of course, this behavior was entirely expected.

Also expected: contact with Westviewians turns Monday’s happy, sleepy-eyed merchant into a bitter scowler.  And readers into head-scratchers.

The thing is, you cannot have issue #115 of Starbuck Jones so rare that it is snatched up instantly when it makes a rare appearance, while simultaneously making it nothing special, a comic you throw into a box to be thumbed at.   Which is it?  “These comics have been going like hot cakes.  Notice I said going like hot cakes, not selling like hot cakes.  They were getting all gooey and rancid, so I threw them into this box because I hate hot cakes!”

I know it’s hard for ordinary, non-Pulitzer-nominated people to remember long, long ago, back to Monday’s strip–that’s almost, like, caveman days, right?  But you’ll recall Holly had a list.  On Tuesday she was pawing through a box.  What happened in between?  “Oh, you’ve got a list?  Let me see.  Starbuck Jones #115.  Since the Starbuck Jones comics have been selling like crazy, you might try looking through these bargain-bin comics.  I always keep my rare stuff in there, because I’m a maverick who thinks outside the (long) box.”

A lazy answer is that the Starbuck Jones series has a rabid cult of fans (enough so that some studio has an interest in making a movie), but the general comic-book public never warmed to it.   So the fans look for issues, but no one else does.  Might as well put it in the box, one of those idiots will buy it.  Again, it’s a lazy answer.  And I guess we’re all used to lazy answers here.

But the inconsistency is ridiculous.  For anyone trying to tell a story, this is not the way to do it.  This is the way a five-year-old tells stories.  “But werewolves aren’t affected by crosses!”  “Wait, did I say he was a werewolf?  I meant he was a vampire werewolf!”

Speaking of lazy answers, whatever happened to the Funky Winkerbean blurb at Comic Kingdom, telling us it was a strip that detailed the sensitive problems of contemporary young adults in a detailed manner?  I guess they just figured, “If you have to know what Funky Winkerbean is, well, abandon all hope…”

Thor-ly Mythed

Do they have a building occupancy fire code in San Diego? Because if the “Bermuda Rectangle” is so packed that one can’t move, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Wimpy John, who surely has been to these things before, is no help whatsoever escorting Holly through the crowd. When who should arrive on Holly’s cue: not God (who must be too busy tormenting the folks back in Westview), but a god, the God of Thunder; or maybe the God of Fluster, judging from Holly’s reaction.

Hey, being your host for the last couple weeks has been excruciating fun! Get ready for Beckoning Chasm’s turn in the barrel. See ya in the comments! —TFH