Tag Archives: steam lines

No Preview Review

Link to today’s strip whenever it drops.

Today’s strip wasn’t available for preview. So instead enjoy my favorite comment from yesterday.

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For a given value of save.

Link to today’s strip

Les, I am going to explain this using short unequivocal statements, that way there is no way for your spotty memory and outsized ego to twist my words.

You. Did. Not. Save. Lisa.

All you did was let her out the door first. That’s not a rescue, that is chivalry so lazy it’s a 50-50 shot if it was intentional.

Wally. Saved. Lisa. And. You.

Wally Winkerbean, that poor sad, pizza baking man has had his wife, his dignity, the childhood of his son, his sanity, and his agency as a character taken from him by Batiuk. Don’t you take one more damn thing from this strip’s number one whipping boy, who took all of that abuse, and survived, without a single legacy foundation to his name.

Les, I don’t know if you could ever lay claim to ‘saving Lisa’. Unlike some, I don’t have an encyclopedic knowledge of all the Act II drama. But you can’t even really take much credit for saving Marianne. You drove shotgun through a fire, and then carried a woman out the door who really should have been able to walk.

Why did I have to be given a Les arc? I would rather have a week of Dinkle.

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Candy Crushed Dreams

If their mutual friend is now “selling band candy full time” then he’s not really retired, is he? But to Dinkle, this sounds like “living the dream.” Maybe John Thompson will be flown out to Belgium, or get a candy bar named after him, too. Someone who’s not living the dream is Adeela. When H-1B issues prevented her from leveraging her architecture degree, her fellow grad Wally installed her as Montoni’s day manager. This, of course, was merely a ploy to get the services of an architect at slightly above minimum wage. Only a matter of time before Adeels, like Khan before her, decides that life in  war-torn Iraquistan beats being a Westview lifer.

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Sigh Noon

Link To Today’s Strip

“The girls” are like twenty-five now and should, you know, have jobs and stuff by this point. They obviously (still) have no social lives to speak of so why they need to sleep til noon is anyone’s guess. The whole thing is sort of creepy if you ask me, mostly due to BatJerk’s bizarre “suspended animation”-type character arcs where characters remain in a sort of stasis for years and even decades at a time. He can’t bang out a Sunday “college graduation” strip followed by a two week arc where Summer gets hired as Montoni’s official pizza athletic director (with sidekick) or something? WHS is still short a gym teacher, you know.

Anyhow, get a load of Beardo and his stupid sweatshirt, standing there all smug and mute. I just want to stuff him down a chimney with no care at all then light an enormous fire. What a dick.

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The Ego And The Idiot

Link To Today’s Strip

Or you could just TELL US what Funky forgot. Geez Louise, this one is glacially-paced even by FW throwaway arc standards. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll turn out to be his tax return and the IRS will arrest him and shutter Montoni’s forever, prompting a town-wide recession and eventual riot in which Les Moore is killed by a vicious mob of unemployed pizza-starved goons. I mean I doubt it, but you gotta have hope. But alas, it’s probably just be something incomprehensibly stupid like it always is.

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Helmet Heir

If you read the New York Times, then you’ve already seen today’s strip.

Long time readers are probably wondering why this state trooper is reenacting the second most memorable thing about “The Electric Company” with Linda instead of hauling off her baked meteorite, as the disposal of dangerous foodstuffs is the historical role of the Ohio State Police in Funky Winkerbean. I’m right there with you, as I honestly don’t know.

FW1-26-86

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Critically panned

Linda takes a break from baking a meatloaf? a potato grown under the power lines? you know, let’s go with a small boulder in today’s strip to… call Bull on his cell phone. Is… is that really what is happening here?  What the everwhating what?!

If Linda thought Bull was inside the house, why did she not walk 17 feet to try to find him instead of calling him on the telephone? If she knew he was out, where did she think he was and who did she think he was with (Buck?)? Was she really letting him go out on his own? This is her behavior as a caregiver? Even murderers after life insurance money would say she’s trying too hard.

While Bull didn’t survive his trip off Nobottom Road, his cell phone sure did. Much as how folks in our universe wonder why airplanes aren’t made out of the material used to make black boxes, one would think there are folks in the Batiukverse wondering why they don’t make cars out of the material used to make cell phones…

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Fake News!

Link To Today’s Strip

Finally, at long last, I can stop typing “Holly’s mom” over and over and over again. It’s one of the unforeseen pitfalls of following this strip, the way Batom forces me to train my muscle memory to repeatedly type otherwise bizarre and useless phrases hundreds of times, like “band mattresses”, “Atomik Komix” and “smug bearded piece of shit”. Anyhow, her name is Melinda. OK then.

When in doubt, drag some mother-in-law gags out. The very last thing FW needs is ANOTHER adorable old coot character but it would appear that this “Melinda” is THIS CLOSE to becoming another FW regular. I will tactfully refrain from pointing out that long-range climate change would probably not have all that much of an impact on a ninety year old woman but hey, FW has NEVER shied away from Topical Issues That Affect Us All, especially somewhat vague references to said Topical Issues. Personally speaking, I’d LOVE to see a four month long arc about Melinda’s house sinking into the Atlantic Ocean but that’s just me.

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Koo Koo For Cocoa Putz

Link To Today’s Slice O’ Holiday Cheer

Beck I hear you calling
But I can’t come home right now,
Me and the band are in shambles,
And Harry ain’t around

Just a few more hours
And he’ll tell me what to do,
I think I hear him cackling,
Oh Beck, what can I do?

Sorry. Sorry about the post title too. Maybe one day we’ll have a big SoSF contest and YOU can try to title these things. Trust me, aside from reading the strip it’s the hardest thing about this. Anyhow, today we see WHS’ incredibly lax security exposed, as John blithely saunters into the school toting some hot chocolate for his right-handed bride Becky without as much as a “visitor” pass to identify himself. Shameful in this day and age. Apparently our armless pal Becky needs to burn the midnight oil and spend endless nights toiling over having her band play some basic Christmas standards for an hour and apparently there’s some sort of cutting edge band software involved as well, software I assume Dinkle invented. I like how she has to identify her own husband by his full name so “casual” FW readers will know they’re married, as how else would they? I bet that if you were to (ugh) go back and check out the entirety of (gak) Act III Becky and John are in maybe ten or fifteen panels together total. Ten or fifteen too many if you ask me.

This has been mentioned in the comments before, but isn’t it, uh…”interesting” how every FW character’s “passion” is always depicted as a thankless miserable chore? Drawing comic books, making pizza, writing maudlin cancer books, playing tennis, teaching music…no one ever actually enjoys these pursuits, they merely endure them. It’s just a thought, but perhaps FW might be more popular if only its worldview wasn’t so perpetually downbeat. But you already knew that.

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Adeptable You

Link To Today’s Thing

Yes, Harry. We all vividly recall how you invented the concept of “crowdfunding” with your m**herf*cking door-to-door band f*cking candy fund raising drives. Geez, what a windbag. So apparently using a mouse and a keyboard at the same time is no biggie for ol’ Becks, as she’s gotten the Scapegoats Marching Band in on this whole “social media” fad all the kids are into with the phones and such. Honestly (and I’m just speaking for myself here) if I lived in Westview I’d definitely prefer to order my band candy online than to have Owen or Bernie at my door, that’s for damn sure. I mean life in that town is hard enough given the limited dining and reading options and how it snows non-stop for months at a stretch.

Perhaps Principal Nate and the WHS admin staff might want to consider the possibility that Becky’s shitty job performance could be attributed to Dinkle distracting her with his constant inexplicable presence. Just a thought.

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