Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Stormwatch #28


Have you ever opened your eyes in the still darkness, groggy from sleep, still enmeshed in a hazy dreamworld quickly fading from memory, struggling with your identity and hoping against all hope that it's not actually the one currently coalescing in your mind? This cover gives me that feeling.

In your life, you have done things that you would not tell your most intimate of confidants. These are secrets that warp your public persona. They are pieces of the essential you that nobody ever gets to see and, often, which you try to deny yourself. And yet without knowing these hidden and secret pieces, nobody can ever know the true you. You might believe that nobody needs to know some of these things you've done because that isn't you anymore. You've changed. You know better now. But these dark secrets still haunt you. You realize you are less than everybody else because you ignore the simple truth that they all have dark secrets themselves, different yet essentially the same. Shameful. Disgusting. Horrific. But it is the truth and we hide it and we live lies because you can't imagine anybody ever looking you in the eye after learning of the things, perhaps simply the one thing, you've done. You view them as mistakes but they are not mistakes. They were choices. And they have formed the essential you whether or not you care to incorporate them into your public version, The You Lite, that you present to others.

But some people do not get the luxury of hiding their most shameful moments in the fog of the past. Some people, like Jim Starlin, have exposed the weeping innards of their soul in the current run of Stormwatch and I cannot tear my eyes away. It is as if I walked in to a nursery to view the beautiful sleeping child at rest in its crib only to find Jim Starlin squatting over its tender form to touch his penis to its lips. I do not mean this in a sexual way, mind you. It is an analogy only in presenting a situation that would bring extreme discomfort between the person involved in the situation and the viewer of said situation. To be caught in the grip of a compulsion that cannot be helped and cannot be stopped by one's own logic or willpower. And to be caught in the acting out of that compulsion. We keep our secrets not just because we fear the judgment that will be heaped upon us but also because we do not want to make others feel uncomfortable around us. It is a politeness, this hiding of our past shame.

And yet Jim Starlin probably feels no shame for the comic book he is currently producing in the public sphere. And that leads the individual to another feeling altogether: envy. How is it that Jim Starlin does not have the capacity to understand that he is making us all uncomfortable? And why can't I feel the same obliviousness toward others? How can I learn to express my embarrassingly honest self without noticing the squeamish looks on the faces of loved ones, without feeling each ragged cut of rejection as they turn away from me having seen the atrocities which I am capable of committing? And how can I develop the gall to ask people to pay money for these wanton acts of self-destruction, these minute obliterations of all decency?

It is true, is it not? Have you ever seen somebody at a party do that very thing that you hide deep down in your well of perversions and think, "Is that acceptable? Have I been deluded in my shame my entire life? Why can I not feel as free as this one, happy and oblivious in her discomfiting the rest of us?" But we know that she has a hidden secret that would mar her public persona as well, different but just as damaging as the secrets we hide. Each has a peculiar ability to skewer, deflate, disintegrate the person others view us as. Should we care? Is there an authentic self? Does it even exist if one cannot be completely known by any other? Should we all present to the public our own Stormwatch?

No. Secret selves are the glue that bind civilization and allow us to walk amongst each other. How could I sit at a table with my back to the unending stream of unknowable people if I knew what they were truly capable of? We can deny and ignore the depths of our own depravity. But once you learn the depths of another's, you never forget. And so, Jim Starlin, you baby face penis rubber, I will always remember that you once opened up your mind and exposed to me the Magenta Timelords Stormwatch Arc and, due to your carelessness you displayed in hiding your shame, I will never feel comfortable reading any of your stories.

Besides, they all feature Warworld anyway. Seriously, dude. Enough with the Warworld. What the fuck is that a metaphor for anyway? Your mother's womb? Your uncle's dingy, dark basement? Your first flowering crush who, upon finding out you liked her, called you a fat fucking twerp right to your face? No, no. Forget I asked. Why you developed Warworld is probably that part of yourself that you can never let anybody see. Stormwatch is nothing in comparison. What I should be asking is why does this Extremax story arc make me feel so uncomfortable? Why am I envious of your ability to expose this part of yourself whereas I would be exposing too much of the hidden me?

Perhaps I should just ignore the questions and treat this day like every other, passing the time in tiny moments of blissfully distracting mundanities as I wander the paths of time's labyrinth, ignoring the dead ends I can no longer talk about and pretending not to notice the animal grunting that gets closer and closer every year as I anticipate, both anxiously and with dread, the day I finally feel the hot breath on my neck and the oblivion of the rending teeth.


How do they plan on doing it? I'd guess a T-1000. Or a meteor although, time being what it is, that obviously didn't work.

Yes, the Crayola Timelords decide to use the asteroid plummeting to the Earth's surface that eventually wipes out the dinosaurs. They choose to move it so that it impacts the land and destroys all life. But, time being what it is, Excremax the Ohmergerd causes the asteroid to explode in the sky which does that thing that happens eventually where the dinosaurs die and mammals take over. You know, time being what it is. Or as Lost often said, "Whatever happened, happened." Unless Lost never said that at all. Or was even a thing. Did I dream that television show?

The rest of the drama plays out with Excremax the Ohmergerd explaining what needs to happen to Jenny Soul and then explaining what needs to happen next because of how Jenny Soul fucked up what she was supposed to do the first time.

Excremax: "There is a Crayola Timelord that needs to die or else all life on Earth will perish!"
Jenny Soul: "Okay! I killed it! Yay me!"
Excremax: "But you did not kill it quickly enough, you dumb shit. Now look what is happening! It sent out a help message and now help has arrived! This help will kill us both if we do not flee as quickly as possible."
Jenny Soul: "But where do we go?"
Excremax: "We now flee to The Bleed!"
Jenny Soul: "Why the fuck didn't you just bring us here in the first place instead of narrating all of that other shit? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Excremax: "Now Jenny Soul gets uppity with me and questions why I do the things that I do! But now I will bring up the fact that I am about to mention that Jenny Soul is in need of a proper spanking!"
Jenny Soul: "Seriously?"
Excremax: "Now I am mentioning that Jenny Soul is in need of a proper spanking and I shall forthwith be pulling down her tiny panties so that I can slap her firm young sixteen year old ass!"
Jenny Soul: "And now Jenny Soul gets Excremax arrested for being a fucking pervy fucking weirdo. No offense, The Weird."

Meanwhile in ARGUS Headquarters, Hawkman has stopped J'onn J'onzz (actually Storm Control in disguise but Hawkman doesn't know that!) in the hallway to yell at him for being two hours early to a meeting. Really? That's suspicious? I suppose Hawkman always has a very large burr up his ass but this is a bit silly. How dare a member of the Justice League of America be found wandering ARGUS Headquarters early for a meeting by, let's see, another member of the Justice League of America busy wandering ARGUS Headquarters early for a meeting! I think it's more suspicious that Hawkman called out Martian Manhunter because it's like he's deflecting attention away from himself!


Apparently my initial assessment of this situation was spot on: Hawkman is just always fucking angry.

Storm Control manages to destroy the intel ARGUS had on Stormwatch and he then leaves ARGUS. Although his Martian Manhunter suit is apparently just a rubber costume and it fooled Hawkman, so Hawkman is a giant idiot. I guess it's hard to tell the difference between rubber and real when you have angry eyes. Storm Control uses his own palm print to gain access to the ARGUS Information Vault, so he's probably a clone of Steve Trevor.

Back to Jenny and Excremax, Excremax continues to narrate exactly what they're doing while Jenny says things like "Sure" and "Lead the way" and "I will not let my people die!" Excremax tells Jenny to create psychic avatars of "those she trusts" so of course she creates a bunch of mental versions of Stormwatch. Including Lobo who she, you know, totally trusts and shit.


Why? He's been narrating the action the entire time. I don't think Excremax is a character at all! He's writing this story as they go!

Excremax the Ohmergerd and Jenny Soul destroy the Sole Mind of the Crayola Timelords, destroying them completely. But this creates a backwash in reality that threatens to destroy them. Is that because the regular non-Crayola-Timelord-influenced timeline is returning?

No, that's not what it means. It's just a localized anomaly that Excremax is almost sucked into but Jenny Soul saves his life. And even though he promises Jenny that he will not harm Earth or anybody she cares about (nice selfish deal, kid), Excremax now has possession of the full Artifact that will supposedly make him the most powerful being in the Magenta Timeline. Right after Lobo, of course.

Stormwatch #28 Rating: -1 Ranking. What this comic book really needs is more Warworld.

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