"Family Fun"

 Well, okay, as long as I'm here, I might as well retreat to my usual remit: weird, bad-ish old Western stories.  Hey, it's SUMMER FUN; you can hardly object.  And having written that, I then realize that it's not "Summer Fun;" it's Family Fun.  And it was first published in October.  There goes MY rationale.  Well, like it or not, here it is.  I will say, though, to whet your appetite, that this actually does have one legit interesting thing in it.  I mean, dumb, too; don't get your hopes up too high.  Still--look forward to it!  

This one comes from something called Walt Disney's Uncle Donald and his Nephews Family Fun.  A catchy title for a...comic.

NGL: Scrooge "reading" a thousand-dollar bill is dumb as hell, but it makes me laugh.  Also, if you were going for consistency, you could have the nephews reading the JW Guidebook as opposed to some generic puzzle.  Finally, I really don't know what you should give Donald to read here, but I think "investment news" is exactly the wrong thing.

So as we start, we get this whole Duck family reunion kind of thing.  That's fun, although if you think it's really going to be a great showcase for all these characters and their interactions...well, you're almost right!  What a twist.  Well, "almost" would be pushing it, but still, this is going to be maybe possibly slightly better than you expect.  There's an offer you can't refuse!

...and the stakes could absolutely not be lower!  Well, that may change, but this low-level chicanery is appreciated.  I do wonder, though: seriously?  You came out all this way to just get some...food?  Sure, I get that Grandma's cooking is supposed to be especially delectable, but come on, you're trying to tell me there are no three-star Michelin restaurants in Duckburg that they could rob instead?  Ha!  What you really have to conclude is that they're just irrationally obsessed with the ducks, regardless of what they think they can get.  

The story sort of threatens to turn into a Duck Album but then never does.  Anyway, what do you think?  Is this story really going to show us something we haven't seen?  The excitement!

BEHOLD.  Is this interesting?  Do you think Rosa was informed by it?  Look, we'll get to that "?" in a moment.  First, I just want to note: okay, "Ebenezer" is clearly just there because of Scrooge.  2-Gun, we presume, is a cowboy, whereas we can probably figure out what "Blackduck (Pirate)"--or alternately, "Blackduck, the Pirate" is...I dunno, a privateer?  Really stomping all over this...well, joke, if you want to call it that.

Really pithy response.  And, not that anything would've been likely to make this less laborious, but seriously, "if that clumsy attempt at humor was intended that..." seriously, I've asked it before, but did editors at Western do ANYTHING besides censoring Barks stories?  Gotta be honest: it doesn't sound like a socially valuable position.  

But, I will sort of give the story credit for one thing: a lot of stories of this sort would either leave Gladstone out altogether or at least minimize the whole "lucky" thing, just because the story isn't supposed to have anything to do with luck and they just don't want to bother.  But this one isn't like that; however clumsy you may find it, it DOES address Gladstone and luck to a greater extent than you might think.

...I dare you to make less sense.  I double-dawg dare you.  There probably was a way to write this so it doesn't sound like sheer nonsense, but if so, the writer didn't quite hit on it.  Strange! indeed, though you'd really think this deserves more of a response than that.  

Well, consider it for a while.  We WILL get back to it, and at that point it will be more or possibly less sensical.

We'll also get back to the Beagles, but for now, just know that they were supposed to be in the attic when this storm hit.  Ah yes, the mysterious cyclone out of nowhere that never receives any explanation: where would we be without it?  Not reading this story, that's for sure.

It never occurred to me that "rambunction" was a word, but a search reveals that yeah, it's a non-standard back-formation.  It happens.  That's kind of cool, and a great band name: GeoX and His Rambunctions.  I can see my name in lights.  If you look up "rambunctionest," you will exclusively get results about--of all things--a book called Aunt Jane's Nieces by no less than L. Frank Baum.  Well, I was going to complain that "rambunctiousest" would've sounded better, but if the other way has the Baum imprimatur, I guess there's nothing I can say.  Anyway, now in addition to the Baum book, you can hopefully find hits leading to this blog.  "The second-biggest user of the word 'rambunctiousest'" should be this blog's motto, and possibly chiseled on my grave.  We'll see.

Anyway.  Now we're in this "junglish" area.  The way these writers coin these crude neologisms; I don't know.  It sort of sometimes feels like they just don't feel like finding a normal term, so they just make stuff up.  Which, I suppose, is how language develops, but I'm not sure if you can detect any residual Western influence on our current dialects.

"Sure, but it might take a few minutes, though!"  Like, dang, people.  Okay, so we've established that the standards aren't high for these things--I fully believe that anyone reading or writing this blog could write a story to a more than acceptable Western level.  But come ON; there has to be a minimal level of competence, and I really must insist that avoiding this kind of agrammaticality is a must.

You know how in my last entry I was talking a bit about how it is simultaneously inevitable and a shame that a particular version of a character gets calcified?  Well, here's another example: you would never, ever see Gyro MacGyvering it up like this in a modern-day story.  Probably because it's painfully dumb.  Still, at least it's something different!

There's SOMETHING going on here with Gyro and Gladstone, and even if it's sort of hard to say what, it's still kind of interesting.

The setting is kind of fun, I'll admit, not that much is done with it.  It DOES have a prehistoric look about it.  I mean, just judging by the pteranodons circling overhead.

Yes, okay, aside from all the copious foliage all around you, including that weird orange bush up ahead...no sign of life.  None at all.  I don't think this is just nitpicking.  Come ON, man.

So here's this.  All of this faffing around about whether or not the egg is the right size has nothing to do with anything.  Just making time, although I suppose there's something to be said for the absurdist nature of this whole thing.

"Hey, what's the biggest amount of time?"

"A century!  Nothing bigger than a century."

"Hmm.  Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure!  A century is A HUNDRED!  That's the most there is!"

"I must accede to your logic."

Yup...it's a Cave-Duck.  From, like, the seventeenth century or thereabouts.  Maybe Bubba should've been modeled after this guy.

And now, THIS.  As you might guess, the presence of this absolute madness is what impelled me to write about this story.  So you're saying that the family tree MAGICALLY PREDICTED this guy?  That's what you're saying, Scrooge?  Okay.  I sort of get the impression that even though this isn't a time-travel story, it's sort of operating as if it is.  Like, Fallberg got distracted by the fact that there were dinosaurs in his story (spoiler, I guess), forgot that it wasn't supposed to actually be the past, and stuck a caveman in there anyhow.  It certainly wouldn't be an isolated slip-up.

If I'm going to try to ironman this, I'd argue, well, when Scrooge says "he's the missing branch on our family tree," he's not referring to this caveman specifically; he's considering him as the representative of some kind of missing link--so now we know what came before ducks: cavefolks.

Of course, this idea breaks down under the slightest scrutiny; if that were the case--that the ? doesn't represent an individual--why would it then feature the actual, specific members of the Duck family?  

Inducks claims that this story was written by Carl Fallberg (though I'm never sure how definitive these attributions are supposed to be).  Fallberg isn't usually quite this batty, but I would LOVE to meet him and ask him, point blank: Carl, what were you THINKING when you wrote this impossibly weird story?  And he'd probably have no recollection of the story and be no help whatsoever.  Hmph.  Thanks for NOTHING, Imaginary Carl Fallberg.  Thing is, though, even if he did remember it, it's hard for me to imagine that he'd have a coherent explanation for this; it seems to me like something you write when you're not taking pride, or much of anything, in your work.  In fairness, I'm sure they weren't paying you enough to take pride in anything, and as we can easily see, very few Western creators had any kind of natural l'art pour l'art impulse.  But still...if you want to be a Disney Master, you've gotta go above and beyond, like the other Carl (or you can just be Paul Murry, and have the good fortune to have produced an oeuvre that, though terrible, was produced at the perfect time to have smashed the hell out of a lot of people's nostalgia buttons.  But I digress...).

But seriously, I do wonder: is it possible that when you're cranking stories like this out for a living--probably concurrently also writing comics for Warner Bros and Walter Lantz and who knows what all--you can sort of enter a fugue state where the ONLY goal is to get through it, and if the results are nonsensical, well, doesn't matter, never gonna think about that again, on to the next thing.

Hmm.  So if I go on a stabbing spree but don't finish off any of my victims, would you describe my actions as "chivalrous?"  Another example of not thinking about something at all and writing it down anyway, but in fairness, "I'm sure they're working on the problem at headquarters" is legit funny.  Should I even point out that the bottom half of Scrooge's body seems to disappear behind Donald, or is that so banal as to be unnoteworthy? 

Such a pointlessly baroque idea...really, if you've decided that nothing is off the table in terms of illegality, there are going to be SO many easier ways to make money than to refashion yourself as the impresario for a carnival sideshow act.  I HAVE to think.

We're going from "I fashioned it from an ingenious mixture of junk and plundered clockwork parts" to...this?  Consistency may be overrated, but still, I don't think it's necessarily a good idea to change Gyro's nature mid-story.

Scrooge, you useless mope.  Seriously, my god, you're this titan of industry, you have to have at least SOME experience with trying to be inspirational.  And this isn't that.  "Oh God, we're doomed, maybe if we're lucky they'll just leave us to die instead of actively murdering us," COME ON, you asshole, this is how you talk around children?  

Though come to think of it, it's actually an open question: DOES Scrooge need to be in any way, like, motivational?  We rarely see his employees, and certainly never in any systemic way.  What's their relationship to him?  How loyal are they?  Do his tightwadded ways alienate them?  Are their ranks rife with corporate spies?  This has to be a huge part of his life, and yet it's more or less invisible in actual comics.  It would be a great thing to explore, I would think.

Also--maybe this is too late to be saying this--if you were in any way excited to see April, May, and June in this story, maybe temper that excitement.  Predictably, they do basically nothing.  Considering that Fallberg seems to have gone out of his way to find something to do with Gyro and Gladstone, you'd think he'd've extended a similar courtesy to AMJ.  Not so!

Still, this escape sequence, though short, isn't actually that bad.  It's easy enough to just go along with the ventriloquism thing.

This also makes me laugh, and man, I don't know; inducks may name Fallberg, but that looks like SUCH a Bob Gregory line, not sayin just sayin.  I'm going to tag this post with his name; YOU can't stop me.

Anyway, hey, a dinosaur!  Even naive-looking fifties dinosaurs can be fun.  So say I.

I feel like a Junior Woodchuck should probably be able to deploy the word "herbivore."  Come now.  Note also: Junior Woodchuck Manual.  These things are not standardized here.

Finally, pet peeve, but it always sounds weirdly mean and judgmental to me when these old-timey dinosaur books characterize them as "stupid."  No!  They are what they are, ya goofs!  Is a turtle or a fish or a beetle "stupid?"  Jeez.

Hmm.  Artichokes, eh?  Let's ask ChatGPT:

You're telling me this story is scientifically inaccurate?  Unpossible!  I definitely agree that it's always fun to see how imagination can play with scientific facts, but I must take issue with the idea that this was done "for the sake of storytelling or humor."  Not that it isn't riveting and hilarious!  Heaven forfend I should imply as much.

Dang, I got so distracted dicking around with chatgpt that I plumb neglected the "hypnotize brontosauruses into thinking Beagle Boys are artichokes" aspect of this--though when you come right down to it, it kind of speaks for itself, doesn't it?

And now, the Beagles' ignominious end.  Ha ha, you guys are dumb.  I know it's a common thing, but I still want to draw attention to that "What do you think we're going to do...play hopscotch?"  Like, articulating extremely lame sarcastic ideas while in an emergency situation: something that has never happened in real life, but happens all the dang time in comics.  Possibly just to fill space.  Still, I shall not abide it; I feel like his brothers should maybe push him back to be eaten.

So...that's good.  I guess.  I mean, it is kind of notable that the story uses two somewhat wordy panels to assure us that the Beagles will be juuuuust fine.  I guess that's a good humanitarian impulse, though I'm not sure if surviving for a few weeks trekking through the jungle is quite as much of a fait accompli as Gyro seems to think it is.  Ah well.

I guess if I'm writing about this story at all, it would be foolish to leave out the resolution of the thrilling cave-duck plotline--God knows nobody ELSE is ever going to write about it.  Still, my gosh, it is not interesting.

Okay, great.  Are we having fun yet?  Think you'll ever see this guy again?

But, no, seriously, I actually really do appreciate the little side-thing about Gladstone's luck.  As goofy and dumb and occasionally inexplicable as the story is, we DO have to admit that that demonstrates more care than you often see.  We must take what we can get.

Should more of these stuff be reprinted? I often wonder.  They may not, by and large, be super-good, but you know, they're cultural artifacts, so they should be available to those who care.  And yet, how do I envision this actually working out?  Do YOU want to read the complete ten-volume archive of Daisy and Donald?  Well?  DO ya?!?  All the late-stage Bob Gregory you can eat?  Does that sound appetizing?  And if no one's willing to release it (for obvious reasons) yet scans circulated online are still considered legally dubious...it's kind of a fuct situation, isn't it?  Not unlike the one with regard to old videogames, and no doubt many other things that I have less personal investment in.  I feel like copyright laws are in need of a really fundamental makeover. socontroversialyetsobrave.gif

Anyway, let's pour one out to the anonymous folks who sacrificed their lives scanning god knows how many thousands of old Western comics and putting them on the internet, even though I feel like I personally may sometimes be their only audience.  Without their tireless work, blog entries like this one would not be possible.