The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Achewood => Achewood => Topic started by: oball on May 08, 2006, 08:30:41 am
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That guy! (http://achewood.com/index.php?date=05082006)
So, looks like there won't be any Ultra Peanut after all...
...or will there???
Probably no.
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I don't really have anything to say, but Philippe's face on the bottom row was awesome. All three panels.
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That fuck*ng guy.
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And the moral of the story is, when in doubt, lie to a child.
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Are you sure it's a lie?
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File under "A" for Awww!
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Are you sure it's a lie?
You bring up an interesting point.
However, and its very late so I don't remember all of my logic lessons from high school mathematics off-hand, there's a Theorem of The Gullible Child or... as intellectual wags later somewhat cynically dubbed it Webster's Law:
The more a child believes something an adult has told them, the better the chances are that this fact was completely made up.
Since Phillipe not only believed Teodor but believed him so much that his entire demeanor did a 180, it can be assumed that the odds are very likely that it is a total fabrication.
When you tell a child, for example, that all the toys were bought by Mommy and Daddy working very hard, they were the fruits of the endless humiliation and suffering that is Earning Money, a child's just not gonna believe it. A child wants to be happy, you understand, it is its natural state, its not gonna handle very well that this GI Joe Thunderclap playset that brings them such job is actually the byproduct of something that makes Daddy occasionally look whistfully over the edges of very high buildings. It cannot be so.
Tell them a morbidly obese immortal who can shapeshift down chimneys and travel faster than the speed of light gave them the toy because they're so special and they will buy that until nearly puberty.
Why do I lose teeth, a child asks. A child does not really understand death, you cannot tell a child "Well, this is nature's way of telling you that a chunk of your life, the easiest chunk of life, is gone now. Hormonal confusion and hard labour await, quickly followed by the swift dreamless abyss of unbeing."
If you tell her it is so a winged imp can give her a small amount of money, bingo. It is accepted.
When you tell a child that the divorce had nothing to do with them, it was that mommy and daddy aren't just getting along, bingo, it is accepted. There are all sorts of examples like this throughout history.
Webster's Law.
And the fact that Phillipe's 180 was accepted in such a rough and tumble "well, golllllly, you're right!" sort of way "gosh, he's a good egg, that couch" in the manner of a shoeshine boy who believed that he was left a crappy tip, only to find out it was an amazing tip? This just cinches the deal.
It is called The Buckaroo Corollary.
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And now Teodor's purpose in this arc is revealed.
"...or the dog can't find anywhere else to get pregnant." Yikes.
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There's just something so wrong about the bottom row...
I mean, WTF is with this happy Phillippe going "That Couch, what a guy!". Thanks a lot, that little otter was cute, but now he just sounds like a complete shmuk.
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Yeah, this is pretty schmuckish Philippe, all right. Also, his speech patterns are disturbingly... Ray and Beef-esque. That sort of bothers me, in a weird way, although I suppose it just means he's growing up.
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yeah.
my guess for next strip:
Ray: "wow teodor. I am pretty impressed with how good are are at that. Where do you learn to handle kids like that, man?"
Teodor: "no, ray... the couch really was alive. didn't you ever notice that?"
ray: oh man, yeah! of course! Imean... yeah! Dude! Me and that couch, we go way back man.
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wait. You're doing that thing again, right?
teodor: I don't know ray. Don't you think the couch is alive.
ray: dude, shut up! not cool!
fin
I love how phillipe talks about the couch the way you talk about "a guy at the office."
next he's going to punch him playfully on the shoulder, and make lightly raunchy jokes, or maybe a comment about how hard it is to be married.
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Looks like we have the beginnings of a feel-good family movie on our hands ... Philippe's last few faces just beg to be freeze-framed while credits roll over the top and vaguely inoffensive rock music plays in the background.
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Aw shucks. I take back all those mean things I've said about Teodor. And I feel so much better for the couch now.
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Yeah, this is pretty schmuckish Philippe, all right. Also, his speech patterns are disturbingly... Ray and Beef-esque. That sort of bothers me, in a weird way, although I suppose it just means he's growing up.
Or sleep-deprived.
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So, looks like there won't be any Ultra Peanut after all...
i think "let's don't learn chinese but say we did" is onstad's way of saying he didn't really feel like drawing a bunch of ultra peanut-in-her-homeland strips.
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I am disturbed by Philippe's face in the first panel of the last row. But there's something very nice and comforting about Téodor sitting down to tell the wee otter about How Hard It Is to Be a Couch. However, if I were a couch, China would not be my retirement destination of choice.
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So are they going to call Emeril and let him know to stop searching or is he going to come back to the house exhausted after hours of searching all night, feeling terrible that he's given up only to find out they found Philippe and brought him home like 14 hours beforehand?
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I think we're all supposed to assume that all loose ends of this arc have been tied up of camera.
I'm hoping O will hold back on the big arcs for at least a little while now.
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So are they going to call Emeril and let him know to stop searching or is he going to come back to the house exhausted after hours of searching all night, feeling terrible that he's given up only to find out they found Philippe and brought him home like 14 hours beforehand?
Ray the Considerate Cat? Surely you jest sir.
I bet that Emeril finds something in the transfer station thats five kinds of cooler than the fake airwolf.
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I bet that Emeril finds something in the transfer station thats five kinds of cooler than the fake airwolf.
Man, I dunno, isn't trashspotting in the transfer station sort of too easy? It's like giraffeing in the trout hatchery. In a barrel. With a laser sight on your, uh, giraffeing apparatus. ... I'm gonna stop now.
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all making a surrogate phillipe out of trash
ray all not getting it
surogate phillipe falling apart
emeril all crying
ray all being like "cool it, dude!"
or better yet, now those two hobo-type guys with the billionth degree burns come back.
as to Webster's law-- I think it would make more sense to say that children will believe the more pleasing and happy explanation. if their parents told them something horrible, they would be less likely to believe it.
actually, they'll probably believe anything their parents tell them. I know I did...
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This strip sounds a lot like the ending of some '80s sitcom, all Bob Saget teaching the girls some Important Life Lesson. Except for all the lying.
[creepy voice inside head]
OK now, Philippe, look, Téodor is not looking, so hit him in the head with your staff and fly this thing back after the couch. C'mon, do it! DO IT!
[/creepy voice inside head]
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Stop not liking this strip, all of you
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And then they flew to Mickey Dee's to pick up a six piece of nuggets.
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I hate this strip to hell.
Good thing I didn't pay for it or I'd be all indignant... INDIGNANT!
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I hate this strip to hell.
Good thing I didn't pay for it or I'd be all indignant... INDIGNANT!
Now, be nice. The otter can't help being retarded AND sleep deprived AND suffering from Coucho-Antromorpho-titis.
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Now, be nice. The otter can't help being retarded AND sleep deprived AND suffering from Coucho-Antromorpho-titis.
Whatever... tomorrow it'll be all dancing with cake all the time and then the strip will become a strip about a baby. (Possibly Baby Blues or Rose is Rose)
That fuck*ng cake.
godDAMMIT.
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Yeah, this one sucked, but at least it means that this storyline is pretty much over.
Or is it...?
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Or is it...?
Oh no, no, no, no! Don't you fuck*ng dare tempt the fates like that - we'll have another three weeks of Phillippe dreaming about banging the couch or some shit. I want back to the normal story lines, you know - where Ray gets amd drunk and lyle flips off Mr Bear, the real Achewood.
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fin.
Also, let me tell you a little something about how a couch thinks and how it plans its life.
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it is not based on banging phillipe, I can tell you that.
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Teodore rocks my world.
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This was, indeed, some fine work by T, but Phillipe's voice at the end was so bad.
Anyhow, so now at least we know where Teodor is during the months when he makes zero appearances: he lives in an arcade, and makes money pawning his crane-game winnings.
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So wait... the cartoon cats and stuffed animals have a pet dog? Like, not an AIBO, but the type that can get pregnant and have problems on the couch? That we've never seen?
And when these cats and stuffed animals sit on the couch, the couch has to support "hundreds of pounds" of people?
My suspension bridge of disbelief is swaying in the wind, in a wildly resonant motion.
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So wait... the cartoon cats and stuffed animals have a pet dog? Like, not an AIBO, but the type that can get pregnant and have problems on the couch? That we've never seen?
And when these cats and stuffed animals sit on the couch, the couch has to support "hundreds of pounds" of people?
My suspension bridge of disbelief is tilting in the wind, in a wildly resonant motion.
Listen: The Onstads live in the same house as the animals. This would explain both the dog and the 'hundreds of pounds' bit.
Suspension of disbelief is still needed, it seems.
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My suspension bridge of disbelief is swaying in the wind, in a wildly resonant motion.
So, talking cats and alive stuffed animals you have no problem with, but a pregnant dog, NO WAY, MAN! I DON'T BELIEVE IT!
Here's a nice frosty mug of dignity for you. Drink it down. You'll feel better if you just drink it down.
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Here's a nice frosty mug of dignity for you.
Who knew dignity foamed up like that?
(Jough Knew... he knew.)
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Don't drink that! It's not dignity, it's ESTROGEN!
Boy I'm glad I caught you in time. That was close.
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I am going to break a cardinal rule; I'm in a sassy mood because tommorow is my last day of highschool ever.
Man... hove some dignity.