Saturday, August 16, 2014

Batwing #34

This is the end! The end of a very depressing story!

How is it that we live in a society where city planners have planted trees that release a smell like human semen and nobody fucking talks about it?! It's such a pleasant experience to step out into the warm sun and feel a gentle breeze blow across your face. Rather, it would be if that breeze wasn't carrying loads of tree jizz! Nobody wants to wind up with a tree bukake first thing when they leave the house.

Imagine a young, innocent girl who spent every summer on her beloved grandparents' farm. Let's pretend, since this is a fictional story, that the grandparents had planted these Semen Trees all over their property. The young girl grew to associate that smell with joy and relaxation and the love of her two favorite people. But remember that this is a fictional story and fictional stories never remain happy and joyful for long because, as your 9th Grade English teacher pointed out, conflict is the root of all stories! Or something. I forget. My 9th Grade English was a moronic asshole. So one summer, the young girl's grandparents were suddenly killed in a fiery explosion during a late night tractor drag racing accident. Heartbroken, distraught, and on the brink of despair, the young girl, on the day after the funeral, took one long, last whiff of her cherished childhood and moved to the city to live with some mice.

Years later, the young girl was not quite as young as she once had been. She was now a young woman. She's in high school and she's met a boy that she thinks she might love. She's not sure what love is but she knows that when she looks at him, she feels like everything on her inside wants to be on the outside. She flirts with him, they become friends, they become more than friends. Did that sentence need more than commas? Semicolons, maybe? Ellipses? Anyway, one Saturday morning while her mice are out, she finds herself alone in her bedroom with this boy. No, not a boy. A near-man-boy. She has never in her life seen an erect penis and it takes her by surprise. She is giddy and happy and full of womanly joy. The near-man-boy has never had his penis touched by a woman, so when this young woman gets low to inspect him closely, perhaps to smell him and take in his essence, her fingers brush up against him and he explodes in premature ecstasy! The young woman gasps, surprised but happy. She cocks her head back in a raucous laugh of pure and unadulterated mirth. And then the smell hits her. She's transported back to the farm. Back to when she was young and sweet and innocent and happy and not forced to live with mice in the city. And, of course, she remembers the terrible tragedy that brought her previous life to a screeching halt. She falls, screaming and crying. The boy panics! Did he get her in the eye? What do you do? Would hydrogen peroxide help?! He pulls up his underwear in a slimy, smelly smear of panic and kneels beside her. But she's not screaming anymore. She's just staring, helplessly. Listlessly. Something in her is gone, driven away by the shock of that smell. Her life is over yet again. The next, and last, phase of her life is spent in a mental ward, comatose and unmoving. All because we live in a fucking society that allows trees that smell like human semen to infest our living spaces!

Was that a good morality tale? Or parable? Or fable? Or cautionary tale? One of those! Or something else. Anyway, I bet it's better than Batwing!

Do something truly disgusting so that DC cancels your comic book?

Because Lucas Fox is crappy at being Batwing and his entire world has turned into pubic hair covered lollipops, he decides to not be Batwing for a bit. First off on his non-Batwing day is to have an uncomfortable conversation with his mother. Then he's going to a planetarium with his little sister. Not the one that stares into the distance and drools; the one that outwitted the Rat Catcher and still has to sit in a car-seat.

Luke's little sister is supposed to be really smart. But she isn't! Because she believes that if a good guy kills a monster, that makes the good guy a monster too! Pshaw! Blanket statements like that are for average to stupid people! You'd have to judge every individual situation in which a good guy kills a monster to determine if the good guy acted like a monster or not! Some people might think Batman is a monster for not killing The Joker because he knows The Joker will invariably kill more innocent people. What kind of person allows that to happen? Some people might think Superman is a monster like how people think that when they're being written by Scott Lobdell. Also maybe when he really is a monster because he's infected by Doomsday Herpes. Some people might think The Wolfman is a monster because he's a monster. But he's really just a guy suffering from a serious disease which produces symptoms only two to three days a month. It's all relative! Oh yeah! My relatives are monsters, no argument.

"Eww! Don't make accurate observations!" Shut up, Tiff! Your brother is just being scientific!

The Hot Scientist whose name I didn't bother to learn gets Tiff's phone number because she wants to give Tiff an internship. In reality, I'm sure she just wants the number so she can call Luke later because she's so turned on by his "hot" compliment.

On the way home, more tragedy befalls Batwing because this comic book doesn't remember that it's a "comic" book! He and Tiff get hit by an armored car and their car rolls. Everybody is okay although the series is ending so Jimmy and Justin could have just killed them and left the last few pages blank. Or maybe made the last few pages out of tissues so people could dry their eyes and blow their noses after bursting into tears. Although you'd have to have some kind of emotional attachment to these characters to be saddened by their deaths. So maybe the tissue would just be used by juvenile men masturbating to the Hot Scientist after they were done reading the book.

I guess the story about Gorgeous George isn't going to be finished because the comic book was cancelled. He'll just have to get his justice desserts in the pages of Batman, poor guy.

Um, and that's pretty much it. Oh, sure. Batwing saves some family from the guys that hijacked the armored car after doing some detective work even though he mentioned earlier that he's not detective. But he's happy that he saved some people and that's the simple purpose of his life. Or something. Ugh. These last few pages shouldn't have been tissues at all. They should have been barf bags.

Batwing #34 Rating: -1 Ranking. This comic book ended its life the way it lived it: mediocrely. Mediocreally? Mediocratically? Whatever. It was boring and anti-climactic which was a disappointment since the last issue with Gorgeous George was actually interesting. I guess Batwing still gets a Futures End issue but after that, I don't want to see this comic on the shelves until it gets seriously retooled. Saving people isn't a good enough reason for Batwing to exist. Batman is already saving people. I think. Okay, maybe Batman is too busy being angry. Eh, I'm sure somebody in Gotham is saving people. Batwing is just redundant. And boring!

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