At the end of my two week turn at writing these posts, I feel as exhausted as Funky looks in today’s panel three. But before I make way for billytheskink, I get once more bite at the mottled, mealy apple that is FW. But what to make of this joke-free strip? Funky’s strategy to avoid negative attention is hollering loudly every time he makes a bad shot? Aside from the other four players on the tennis court, there appears to be nobody around to notice or care about his poor play. Do they know that the fat man’s name is not Dave, Hal, or Glenn?
Tag Archives: the raptor claw in Holly's hair
August 4, 2022 at 11:12 pm
I’m morbidly curious as to how Funky can get even more childish…
Even more embarrassing than childish: Funky’s coming off as an thrifty old pensioner. One could expect Ed Crankshaft or Funky’s dad Mort to make such a chintzy request. But we know Funky to be a man of sufficient means to buy all the stale cookies he wants. I suspect that Batiuk is channeling a line from his hero Woody Allen: “Boy, the food at this place is really terrible.” “Yeah, I know; and such small portions.”
August 4, 2022 at 3:06 pm
The speaker is *terrible*. If I went to an estate planning seminar and he started out with a sustained “Jack and Jill” metaphor, I’d be steamed, too. He sucks.
Doesn’t excuse Funky’s aggressive passive-aggressivity, though. Yesterday I thought Holly was doing an awkward facepalm, but in today’s panel 2 we see that she was tearing out her eyes in a fit of Funky-induced fremdschämen (hat tip Maxine of Arc). Seminar Guy in panel three is ready to give up the ghost, and assumes a crucifixion pose.
Maxine of Arc
August 3, 2022 at 9:35 am
Everybody in this room, not just the poor bastard who has to try to facilitate this meeting, now HATES THIS GUY. And they should.
Everybody in the room needs to come to the poor bastard’s defense. Seminar Guy is desperately tries to engage with anyone here whose name is not Funky Winkerbean, but he’s the only one with his hand raised. As cringe-y as this week has been to date, at least today’s gag logically follows yesterday’s “fetching pails of water” riff and, at least for me, almost elicits a chuckle. But Funky’s expression is earnest as he delivers his jerky response. Is he being serious now? Funky’s wizened mug takes on the same stricken expression he wore when the Winkerbeans last discussed estate planning five years ago.
August 1, 2022 at 5:07 am
[T]his week will have very little to nothing to do with estate planning as Batiuk spends an entire week with Funky just making an ass of himself…[a]nd each day this man leading the seminar will start anew not remembering how Funky was a complete gratuitous asshole just minutes earlier…
Having just been called untrustworthy to his face, Seminar Guy takes a deep breath, forces a smile, and launches into his presentation. Which, though there’s a projector in the room, seems to consist not of a slick PowerPoint, but of stick figures named “Jack and Jill.” Little wonder that the infantile Funky has trouble taking this seriously.
It’s true that many people neglect the important task of estate planning, leaving “a big mess behind” for their survivors. One would think, however, that a small business owner, the head of the chamber of commerce no less, would already have seen to his affairs by the time he’s reached Funky’s age. Rather than having to be dragged along by his wife to a financial seminar.
Oh yay, we finally get to meet Rocky’s mom, Carla! I’m sure she’ll quickly become a beloved recurring character, and surely doesn’t exist entirely for this “sin-in-law” joke. Holly’s face is looking especially rough in the second panel. I don’t know if it’s because she’s weary at the prospect of at least another week of bad sitcom level wedding tropes, like I am.
Yup. Batiuk doesn’t even have the decency to end this on a Sunday Strip. And has instead given us six panels of pointless nonsense. It’s like ending a contentious divorce arbitration with a pie in the face.
So let’s ignore it, and move on down memory lane.
Just a reminder, as we continue the saga of Jefferson Jacks.
I already have a retraction to print!
Cuban League professional baseball was definitely a thing. Up through the abolition of professional sports in Cuba in 1961. Since it was played in the winter, American players, black and white, often participated. It was one of the first baseball leagues to be completely integrated. There were usually four or five teams, including, Almendares Alacranes ‘Scorpions’, Petroleros de Cienfuegos ‘Oilers’, Habana Leones ‘Red Lions‘, Tigres de Marianao ‘Tigers‘, and the Havana Sugar Kings.
I wasn’t able to find any evidence that Fidel Castro and Che Guevara paid the Havana Reds to play against them in a sugar cane field in the early 50’s though. Maybe I was searching the wrong sources.
Following the Jefferson vs the communists story, we next see Jefferson Jacks in June 2010. Crankshaft and various other former Toledo Mud Hens are invited to play an exhibition game at a Mud Hens reunion.
Cute right? Or Schmaltzy? Depends on how jaded you’re feeling or how manipulative vs genuine you feel the writer’s intentions were. While it seems Jacks decided to help Bushka around the bases after seeing how frail his old tormenter had become, a few months later, in August 2010, we’re given a little more depth into their détente.
I’ll just re-repeat my comment from the last two threads: “Cayla’s whole presence in this arc seems to be adding up to, ‘Yeah kids, but whaddaya gonna do, right?’” (This time with better punctuation.)Sourbelly
Cayla says, earlier this week, “Frankly, I don’t know how we’re going to change things.” She says this to two young kids who had baited a confrontation with a woman they didn’t know because they didn’t like how they were treated different for looking different.
And I just want to slap Cayla.
Because there are dozens of avenues to change. Some less contentious than others.
And one of those roads is the road of forgiveness. Not silent forgiveness, but an open hand presented. Offering a human connection to someone on ‘the other side’ and hoping that the relationship can be the key that releases them from their cage of prejudice.
It’s a more contentious road than you’d think. There are so many who see the weight of ignorance and hate as a burden that people deserve to be crushed by, because they willingly chose to carry that hate. They want to shut those spiteful people away in the dark prison of their own malice, and throw away the key. Because hateful people have not earned our efforts. Because they have not yet received back the pain they’ve inflicted.
And to withhold forgiveness is their right. No one should force the wronged to reach out.
But I feel that pure, healing change comes from batting away the fingers that pry into scars and want to hold open wounds. The past is prologue, but it is also a mirage we can’t visit, and revenge is an illusion because it destroys to pay for something already gone. What matters is now, and the future, and what will make things better there, whether it be punishment or mercy.
Sometimes change can’t be so kind. But when we can, isn’t better to convince people that the change we want makes things better for everyone? To convince people that the world you’d like to see has a place for them too?
And someone at their back to protect them, who will help push them home.
Spaceman Spiff takes over tomorrow.
*climbs off soapbox and drags it away*