Today's Drabble was particularly insulting, not because of the embarrassing art, or the lack of any real humor, but because Drabble author and creative mastermind Kevin Fagan spends three panels setting up a joke and then, rather than telling one... he just sort of explains what's come before.So Ralph Drabble is chatting idly about barbecues with an employee of the awesomely named, if somewhat anonymous, "Trash Company." He then gets this sly look on his face and thinks to himself, "Guys love to talk about their barbecues." Yeah, no shit, that's what the whole strip was about.
At first I thought, goddamn, Ralph Drabble is one stupid guy. He is, after all, a mall cop. I haven't seen Paul Blart, but I'm guessing Mr. Fagan was brought on as a creative consultant. But after thinking about it some more (too much), I realized that this bit of exposition in the fourth panel was all just for us. Mr. Fagan holds his audience to be such cretinous turds that they require explication of the most facile and basic concepts.
"Hey, why is Drabble carrying on about his barbecue? I thought he just needed the damn thing picked up! And now the other guy is talking about his barbecue?! What does his barbecue have to--OH! Ohhhh..."
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1 comment:
glad to have you back in the blogosphere, brendy.
i don't know where else i would have read about cretinous turds. and underage d-cups. prancing.
you rule.
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