Cheetah #1

I spent about five minutes tilting this cover back and forth trying to look at Cheetah's boobies through the spray of blood.

Sorry, Cheetah. But you get my Birthday Post, being my first post of the day on my 42nd Birthday.

Here's the thing about Birthdays that all adults know: they really don't mean shit after the 21st. Unless you celebrate birthdays where you start getting better rates on car insurance, none of them really mean much after twenty-one. Sure, you have your Jesus Birthday at 33 (also known as "Hobbit Coming of Age"). And, I suppose, some people make grave note of their 27th birthday since that's the Dead Rock Star Age. And I suppose I have When I'm 64 to look forward to in a shitty kind of way. And you have each rolling of the digits into the next set of tens but that's just slowly rolling to the grave bullshit nobody wants to mark. So 42 is probably the last significant birthday I'll make any real note of thanks to Douglas Adams. I love many author's voices for a great variety of reasons but Douglas Adam's voice will always be like kittens running into the room. I can't help but be happy and enjoy it and smile and fall down paralyzed screaming, "KITTENS!"

I don't want to get to macabre by speaking about the slow, inevitable crawl to death that we all share and experience because I'm not the type to dwell on those things, but I did want to make note that one of the few people I've known that has died (I've had a relatively death of acquaintances free life so far) did so at 42. He was the brother of one of my best friends and he died of alcoholism. And there are times in my life that make me think of him and I suddenly miss him as if I'd known him much better than I really did. Whenever I think of a great myth about our lives, or get really hammered playing stupid games, or write some fabulously hilarious story, I'll sometimes think (or say to Doom Bunny (or sometimes Doom Bunny will say to me), "Al would have loved this." So here's to you, Al! You left us too soon because you were a selfish, drunken bastard with a wit that was still quick though dulled by Seagrams. But fuck it, aren't we all? Well, those of us that drink Seagrams!

One last thing about growing older. People often say you're only as old as you feel. That's bullshit. You know what age you really are? You're every single age you've ever been. You don't just remember what it was like to be twelve. You are twelve. And eighteen. And thirty-six. And seven. When young people tell older people that they just don't remember what it's like to be young, it's just a cruelty and a knife in the heart. We remember all too well. We still see ourselves as young. And, as I said, every age we've ever been. When I first began watching Sailor Moon in my mid-twenties, I fell in love with each of those girls not because I was a perv leering at young girls in short skirts (even though I was that because we are every age we've been!) but because I was still the same age as these characters. I was still in Junior High sitting in the library staring at Marilyn Mendoza for forty minutes until the lunch bell rang. I was still experiencing my first crushes and best new friendships and the awkwardness of growing up. It's all still in there and you never grow out of any of it. Your mind does not grow old. It just grows to encompass more experiences.

Anyfuck! That's it on birthday talk except for one last hope and wish: I hope I get some fucking cake later! Sorry, Cheetah! The floor is all yours now!

The issue begins with Cheetah running naked through the swamps of Louisiana as she escapes the destruction of Belle Reve.

For some reason, she doesn't have nipples or genitalia. Oh, that's right! Because it's a comic book!

Cheetah is being hunted by guards with big guns and no hearts. I mean, they begin with hearts but then Cheetah rips them out of their chests and eats them. I'm not sure if this is supposed to be horrible or endearing! Sometimes I need help navigating the intricacies of social interactions. I sometimes have to use clues that I've written down in a big book that I've memorized like The Black Hand to help me remember how I'm supposed to act around people given the location and situation. Like here, I know that this is Villains Month, so I'm fairly certain that she just did a bad thing by eating the hearts of these men. But then again, I love nature shows and she's just obeying the instincts of her true nature, and you can't fault her for that.

On her way to wherever she's going (it feels to me like she's headed to Chicago to kill her shitty father but the man hunting her to bring her back into custody is going to Idaho where her Aunt lives), Cheetah has a dream about stabbing Wonder Woman in the chest. It's hard to interpret what that means since it's such a common dream. But apparently Cheetah was raised to be knowledgeable in the ways of the Amazon. Except her Aunt didn't really know the ways of the Amazon as well as Barbara thought she did. Barbara told Wonder Woman, "I'm like totally an Amazon and shit!" And Wonder Woman was all, "Totes? Then why are you acting like a total poseur loser?" And Barbara was all, "I'm going to kill you bitch!" And Wonder Woman was like, "Unh-uh!" And then the cows woke up Cheetah.

Detective Mark Redshirt arrives at Aunt Lyta's (as in hippo!) Amazonia Ranch for Poseur Amazons to warn them because Cheetah is so fast she's already been to Chicago and killed her father. It happened off panel! But now this Detective is going to try to set foot on Amazonia Ranch which probably won't be easy because of his penis.

I'm not sure she can hear him over the sound of his testosterone.

Detective Shaw is allowed to enter Paradise Ranch because these Amazons aren't as strict as I thought they were going to be. I should have remembered that they're doing it all wrong and don't know anything of the real Amazonian Culture which never lets a man step on Paradise Island. Except maybe that one time they let Vandal Savage and Jason Blood do it. And maybe Steve Trevor although I can't remember if that actually happened or not. I think that happened off panel too.

Detective Shaw finds nothing amiss at Paradise Ranch and Lyta declares she'll be safe, so he decides to next look for Barbara's mother and brother. Lyta doesn't know where they are but she decides to remember a moment from her past after the question is asked.

Oh yeah. This seems like a good idea.

Not surprisingly (since I know how cause and effect work and Cheetah wouldn't be around if her brother beat her!), Barbara kills her brother and becomes her Aunt's champion. Aunt Lyta may have also killed Barbara's mom because she was jealous of her. But the story might work out better if she's still alive for Detective Shaw to find. Although I'm not entirely sure Detective Shaw is getting out of Paradise Ranch alive. Lyta is a ruthless monster that just wanted the God-Slayer Knife to become the Avatar of the Goddess of the Hunt. And she's probably a bit pissed off that Barbara used it on herself.

Except when Barbara returns with it, Lyta commands her to use it on herself. So I got that wrong! I must be slipping in my old age! But at least I got the part about the man being in big fucking trouble right!

I have this strange bias that any man in a tie would be easy to hunt and kill. Is that just me?

Lyta almost kills him but Cheetah saves his life. Actually, saving his life is incidental. She's just here to kill her Aunt Lyta so that every tie to Barbara Minerva has been cut. Only Cheetah is left.

Ha ha! Manhunter! Ironic!

Did DC really need a new Manhunter?

Cheetah #1 Rating: Cheetah was raised as an Amazonian. She was taught to love the hunt and to be a strong, independent fierce woman in a society of other strong, fierce women. So it's strange to see her Villains Month comic book usurped by Manhunter's origin story! Fucking men. Always trying to make it about them. And I should know! I'm one of them! Look how I've spent the last year and a half (I started reading The New 52 late) making The New 52 all about me!