Summer – Page 25 – Son of Stuck Funky

Cluelesslesness

Ugh, after repeating the premise three times, Cayla finally dishes the dirt. But I’m going to do the unthinkable and defend poor Les here. I mean think about all the Lisaversaries the guy has to observe every year: birthday, deathday, Mother’s Day, wedding anniversary, Cancer Symptom Discovery Day, Diagnosis Day, Correct Diagnosis Day, New Year’s Eve, I mean come on. The guy is in the business of re-living his wife’s tragic death (and teaching or something), he can’t be expected to remember the anniversary of the day when he conned one of the few non-obese single women in town to agree to marry him in an ultra-cheapo front yard wedding (catered by Montoni’s, no less) even though it was clearly obvious that he was still totally obsessed with his long-dead wife, can he? Life is, after all, about priorities. And I’m sure he’ll make a whole huge thing out of it when she dies so ease up, Cayla, your time is gonna come.

Hey, look. Les finally got Cayla that dishwasher she asked for. Zing. Funny how he brought Summer back and updated her character’s status with a quick “don’t ask” just so he could have her set up Cayla’s woefully bogus anniversary story. If she was a real person you’d start to wonder who she pissed off up there at Batom Inc. HQ, you know? Not that I’m suggesting that we delve into Summer’s character, no, no. By no means, no. There’s no need for that, trust me. Keep her in the background and get her the hell out of here as soon as possible, please.

Anyhow, look at Les and Cayla’s tiny bed. What the hell is that? That Les throws nickles around like they’re manhole covers, I’ll tell you what. What a cheapskate.

Electronic Fail

Link To Today’s Strip

Good old TomBat, always right on top of today’s latest fads. Has anyone, anywhere, used the phrase “electronic card” anytime since maybe 1996? Word balloon filling-upping at its very finest. I do like how Cayla refers to Lisa as “movie script” now, though. Hey, it’s progress.

Summer’s extremely irritating habit of making odd, childish noises continues today as she “ulps” in a manner befitting the fine young woman she’s become. Her annoyingness is only topped by her uselessness. God I detest her so much. If it isn’t about her why is she even here?

But Sad Sack Les in panel one more than makes up for Summer’s presence today…it’s absolutely glorious. Look at him, all humiliated and sad, it’s fantastic. Every Les arc needs to end with that drawing. If only that were possible.

Master Of The Obvious

Link To Today’s Strip

She’s correct: this can’t be good. And I’m willing to bet everything I own that it won’t be. Because it can’t be, you see? Anyway, TB appears to be dusting off the dustiest of old tropes today, the ol’ “idiot husband forgets anniversary” bit. How original. Check out Cayla’s vindictive sneer today, looks like Les is really (shudder) rubbing off on her. If the final panel of FW’s run doesn’t feature a silent panel depicting Moore Manor cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape, I’ll be shocked.

Speaking of the artwork, today we see why Summer isn’t a regular in the strip anymore. BatTom can’t draw her consistently, especially from a distance. That side view in panel one is hilarious and the almost triangular head in panel two is just as bad, it looks like an old nuclear bomb test film from the 1960s. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good thing. The less Summer the better, as she’s just grating and annoying beyond belief. Summer is like having a dog with fleas or a backed-up toilet, you don’t need to elaborate on why it sucks, it’s self-explanatory.

Don’t Ask…Don’t Tell

Link To Today’s Strip

Thanks to DavidO and the rest of the outstanding SoSF staff for all they do!!!

Not too long ago I was going back and forth with the SoSF staff and I mentioned how I don’t always mind getting a Les arc, as at least there’s something to really hate there as opposed to the typical “Funky is fat” idiocy. Well, the gods of the Funkyverse must have been listening, because this week something I’ve long-dreaded has come to pass…Summer (shudder) is back. Never tempt the gods of the Funkyverse, friends. The consequences are simply not worth it.

I’ve always despised Summer almost as much as Les (and Lisa for that matter). She’s always too twee, too gritty or, as you can see today, too snotty. The hair, the neck, the hoodie…it’s all so grating. Summer is truly her father’s daughter. So today she’s back in her (surprise!) robin’s egg blue car to remind us about an arc we’d all prefer to forget. If that wedding was any crappier you’d have to scrape it off the bottom of your shoes with a stick. Meanwhile Dickface is (surprise!) furiously raking leaves, as Leafpocalypse ’14 has begun. The Funkyverse’s stars are all aligning in some sort of grand confluence of boredom and misery, it’s gonna be a long, long week, snarkers.

Moore’s the Pity

Link to today’s strip.

ACTUAL STRIP CONTENT COMMENTARY: There isn’t any. “Content,” that is. What we’ve got is a recap post for those poor souls unlucky enough to have missed a month of Tom Batiuk’s brilliance, and are desperate to find out what’s “happened.” To those folks, well, I can only quote the Daleks: “‘Pity’? The word is not in my vocabulary.”

I have to say that the last panel is a perfect summation of all of Funky Winkerbean. It should be the logo on the official site.

BCHASM’S “TL;DR” POST:

In 1941, Preston Sturges made Sullivan’s Travels. If you’ve never seen it, I highly recommend it, and I won’t spoil it for you. The premise is that Joel McCrea plays a Hollywood director who specializes in frothy, lightweight comedies. However, he longs to make serious dramas that call attention to the ills of the day. The film never outright says it, but Mr. McCrea wants to be known as an artist, and not an entertainer. The lessons he learns, and the conclusion he comes to won’t be surprising to anyone, but I still find it amazing that others in Mr. Sullivan’s shoes seem oblivious to those same lessons.

I wonder, if Tom Batiuk was just starting out on his career as a syndicated cartoonist, and if he took the best strips of the past three years, do you suppose any syndicate would hire him? Or would they show him and his relentlessly gloomy strips to the exit?

What publisher looks at the comics page and says, “We need more depressing comic strips. Buy Funky Winkerbean!”? I can’t imagine such a person. (Well, okay, I can imagine J. Jonah Jameson doing this, because he hates his readers.) Does this mean that Funky Winkerbean still appears in newspapers due to inertia and nostalgia, for a time when we were younger and the strip made us smile wryly?

In the very infrequent times that I step in the Comics Kingdom comments section, Mr. Batiuk has a few defenders, none of whom can point to the positive aspects of his work that they enjoy (it’s well drawn, the characters are realistic, it reminds me of my youth, etc etc). None. The only defenses I’ve seen employed by his fans is that his detractors have never won an award and must be unemployed. Well, I mean, take that! Oh–and there’s also “If you don’t like it, don’t read it!” I’ll wait for you to recover from that mot juste.

I wonder what Tom Batiuk really hopes he’s accomplishing. Does he, J. Jonah Jameson-like, take pleasure in consistently thwarting people’s desire for entertainment, because that damned Spider-Man? Or, conversely, has he simply ceased to care? I know that if I drew a nice paycheck doing something in which I no longer believed, I’d probably keep doing it as long as the bills kept arriving. Everyone has the right to survive, after all. But I’d still take no joy in it.

Of course, a creative person (an artist or an entertainer) might find a way to bring joy back to his creation. As I noted yesterday, when Conan Doyle brought back Sherlock Holmes, he did so in The Hound of The Baskervilles–hardly an FU to the Holmes fans. Would such a thing be possible for Batiuk? I don’t know, but I think it’s far too late for Funky Winkerbean–Batiuk has started down his chosen path, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to admit he made a terrible mistake. No, you will take Les Moore, and you will like Les Moore, and you will find yourself amused and enlightened by Les Moore*. I suppose it’s a strange stance to take, to decide that this is the line that shall not be crossed.

Everyone can see the line, it’s just that no one wants to stand on that side.

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

*For amusement, try substituting “horse poop” for “Les Moore” in that sentence. It reads exactly the same!

Speaking of O Brothers, the greatest O brother of all, David O, will be driving the SoSF Funky Cart in the Depression Box Derby starting tomorrow. Thank you for your indulgence, and exit right to Funway!