Please don’t tell me that Frazz’s “Here we go” is an indication of his bracing himself for that specific observation he knows is coming about that particular line. I’m begging …
Imagine the horror of being satisfied with pat replies that don’t make any sense.
This one’s as bad as it gets, on two fronts. For one, it points out the “satisfaction” to be found in talking down to people, which is just grotesque.
For the other, it repeats a theme we’ve seen before: that not only are the fat oafs in “Frazz” uninterested in working out, they can’t begin to comprehend why anyone would.
So it’s who’s-smart-enough-to-know-what and I-train-so-hard-a-lard-bucket-like-you-can’t-even-imagine-what-it’s-like.
Yes, and make sure to recall that pointing out that you know something someone else doesn’t is “satisfying”.
Boy, if this one isn’t the “Frazz” ethos boiled down to its essence …
I was never assigned a summer reading list. (And I never had to do a “what I did last summer” essay, which was disappointing, as I thought I had some pretty decent stories to tell.)
I think you’re asking the same question I asked when I read this, Hippogriff. What “things” is Burke helping these kids back into? What a sentence is? What words mean? Or is it just that he’s prepping them for a return to structure, and what it’s like to have to have things done when due, etc.?
(That’s a legitimate question, not a criticism. I really don’t know what he means. I encourage anyone but Night-Gaunt47 is to provide an answer. Thank you.)
I’d say kids’ reactions to summer reading lists cover a broad spectrum. Setting aside their individual attitudes about “extra” work and a desire for “liberty”, think of the many other variables: how long the list; how long the books; the titles; what the penalties and rewards might be.
The biggest variable, though, to me, is the teacher who might assign the reading. Some teachers are very, very good at instilling a desire to do the work. Others stink at it. They say there are coaches who can get their players psyched up enough to run through a brick wall. Me, I had Sister Mary Carol, who could get me to read anything.
No offense to Mr. Burke intended here. This girl looks to be in need of some very intensive cajoling.
Re-read my comment, Gaunt. Having this kid, or any kid, know all sorts of things that (virtually) no little kid cares about is a wrong-headed artistic decision IN MY OPINION. No one asked whether it was common. No one called it bizarre.
As a matter of fact, today I provided my own explanation as to how a kid might know such things. If you were a more careful reader, you’d have seen that, in a display of unaccustomed generosity of feeling toward “Frazz”, I actually cut the strip a break.
And this is the response I get.
Things like tone and “sincerity” don’t always come across well in electronic communication, so I can see how some might have misread my comment. Still, if I had to predict the name of the one person who’d get it wrong, well, it’s pretty obvious.
So have a look, Gaunt, and then do that thing you always do where you hide under a rock and never, ever admit you’re wrong.
Where and how an eight year-old becomes familiar with concepts of retirement planning, I don’t know. Maybe he watches golf with his dad on weekends and asks questions about the commercials. If that’s the case, we will one day soon be reading analogies from Caulfield based on his in-depth knowledge of the insurance industry, luxury SUVs, soft-cover-high-spin golf balls, and Cialis.