Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Futures End #21


From this point on, I will no longer be calling any archer in the DC Universe a super hero.

Last issue, Red Robin pretended to be caught breaking into the offices of The Fast Lane by Lois Lane. He was all, "Whoops! How did I not know that you were still in the offices when I am nearly the smartest person in DC Comics and I once discovered Batman's secret identity although I really didn't but then Scott Lobdell rewrote the story for Secret Origins so that it seemed like I knew who Batman was all along because Scott Lobdell likes to pretend he had plans to do things differently when fans tell him that the way he originally did them sucked. Then he writes a new story that reveals that his old story wasn't the entire truth and the new story is the way the fans wanted it. And then he says, 'See? Now you have crow's eggs on your faces because you did not trust me and my far reaching plots which reveal themselves in ridiculous ways but eventually show that I didn't really mean for Starfire to be a cum dumpster or for Tim Drake to be stupid or for Tim Drake to actually be Robin even or for the Teen Titans to have already existed before they even actually New 52 existed or for...well, I could go on like this forever but you get my point!'"

I forget the point Red Robin was trying to make to Lois Lane before Scott Lobdell interrupted so now I have to start over.

Forget about Red Robin and Lois Lane. That story isn't going anywhere unless they begin fucking. Let's remember together where Deathstroke and Grifter were! No wait, they were on Cadmus Island. That hasn't changed for dozens of issues. I actually don't think I need to recap anything because then I'd just be repeating all of my recaps from the last twenty commentaries because the plot on this thing moves slower than a snail crapping molasses.


Your army of archers? Get out of there, Barda! You're just going to wind up carrying them all! And Green Arrow will take all the credit! And he'll steal your technology for Q-Core! Unless it's Q-Corps! Maybe it's Cuke-Whore?

Red Arrow, who didn't die over in Earth 2 even though he was dead over in Earth 2, tells the story about the war that's been referenced multiple times in the last twenty issues. Earth 2 was overrun by Apokolips forces, so a bunch of ships full of Twofer heroes and civilians escaped to The New 52 Earth. But they were followed by parademons! New Earthers were all, "Oh man! Fuckin' dicks! Don't drag your shit onto our doorstep!" Although some New Earthers weren't total dicks and were actually super heroes (not Green Arrow, Roy Harper, or Emiko), so they decided to help battle the parademons (with the help of Green Arrow, Roy Harper, and Emiko). And I guess they won even though they suffered terrible happiness like most of the Teen Titans being killed. Big Barda thought Mister Miracle was killed early in the conflict but Emiko has told her different. So Barda is kind of impatient with Red Arrow telling her the story that she already knows.

I'm a little impatient as well! Most of this comic book has now been simply putting all of the various references to the war into a linear story. Does DC Comics think we're morons? They already told us this shit and we, the most intelligent readers of comic books ever (that includes most of the people that read this blog. Most! All of you that I don't mean, you don't know who you are because you're so fucking stupid. Ha ha! Stupids! All of you that are smart enough to know that you're not a stupid dumb dumb, point and laugh at the stupids with me! No wait! Don't! That's mean! I would never do that! I mean, starting from this moment where I just realized it was mean, I will never do that!) have already pieced this story together! So hopefully Green Arrow has something fantastic to say before the story gets to some good old fashioned fucking!

What is old fashioned fucking? Sepia toned fucking in dirty Victorian rags? Or just looking suggestively at somebody's ankle from across an empty room where proper decorum dictates the sexes remain separate. Lucky Victorian homosexuals! I mean, lucky right up until Oscar Wilde over played his hand and ruined it for everybody! Not that I'm blaming Oscar Wilde for the uptight bigotry of the closeted people of power which turned the fear of penises touching into a complete loss of male intimacy which eventually turned most men into obnoxious dudebros! Don't try to deconstruct me into being a victim blaming asshole, you opportunistic piece of righteous wrath and perfection! Stop trying to make me look bad by purposefully misunderstanding me!


See? Just like I typed earlier! I knew New Earthers were jerks! I mean, I was only guessing before! But now that I have proof, I knew it all along.

After the war, Green Arrow began investigating the government agency that demanded Twofers carry ID cards and obey a curfew. It was probably run by Sloan and Sloan! But during his investigations, he ran afoul of Deathstroke and met Red Arrow, his Christmas Doppelganger. Although I agree with Red Robin: he seems more like Speedy's doppelganger. Together, the Christmas Arrows discovered Brother Eye and a traitor named Maxwell Payne and, eventually, Cadmus. They knew Cadmus was collecting all the Twofer heroes and squirreling them away on a secret island. But Green Arrow knew he was no match for Deathstroke since Deathstork Deathstroke is a super hero and Green Arrow is just this guy, you know? So Green Arrow had to gather an army together to fight his war for him! His army was mostly just The Outsiders (not the awesome Outsiders with that cute little Halo and that hilarious Metamorpho and that cool dude Black Lightning and that motherly murderer, Katana...oh wait! Katana actually was in his Outsiders! But not the others!) and some normal, every day people that knew how to string a bow. But now that they have some actual muscle on their team (Big Barda!), they're ready to invade Cadmus!

But not yet because that story took up this whole issue. You'll have to wait a few more days to find out if Hawkman and Amethyst have Nth fucked. Unless you're relying on me to tell you about Issue #22. And then you'll have to wait a lot longer because I'm going to be in Denver for a week.

Futures End #21 Rating: No change.

Monday, September 29, 2014

The Multiversity: Society of Super-Heroes #1


Why is that Jemm, Son of Saturn, Green Lanterny Daredevil character on this cover? He was on the cover to Issue #1 and never appeared in that! I bet he doesn't appear here as well!

After reading the first issue, I pointed out that the reader was the villain bringing on tragedy by continuing to read the story and that was why the narrator was trying to get the reader to stop. Obviously I was wrong and reading it completely backwards. But that's because I was just trying to trick my readers into not reading for fear of being the villain. Then I would be the only one left reading The Multiversity and I would be the one true hero! Obviously the narrator is a bad guy, perhaps one of The Gentry, trying to get the reader to give up reading the comic book since reading the comic book creates time and executes the plot which will allow the heroes to win (since that's how comic book stories always end all the time forever). So if the reader were to listen to the Narrator and abandon the book, the heroes would never get a chance to win. This is why Captain Carrot mentions he likes reading stories with good endings. Because he knows he's reading the stories of heroes in alternate dimensions and, by reading those stories, he's helping those heroes to succeed.

So while dumb dumb critics continue to call comic books "wish fulfillment fantasies," Grant Morrison is telling us they're actually more than wish fulfillment. The reader gets to be a true hero by reading, and hoping, and pumping her fist in the air when the hero succeeds! Then everybody in the coffee shop looks at her, annoyed, and she stands up, wagging her middle fingers in every direction, and screams, "Fuck you all, you bourgeoisie bitches! Unless you pronounce and/or spell that dumb word some other way and then maybe you're just middle class, uncreative zombie mother fuckers!"

Judging by this cover, this story will be about Doctor Fate and Lady Blackhawk banging each others body parts sore while The Atom chokes himself and masturbates in the corner. Also maybe zombies will attack.

The initial narrator of this story is a composite of Anthro, Immortal Man, and Vandal Savage. He calls himself Immortal Man although he doesn't die and become reborn like the old DC Character, Immortal Man, who was Vandal Savage's rival. He gained his power of immortality from a radioactive meteor as did Vandal Savage. But Immortal Man was also called, at one point during his life, Anthro. And being a Grant Morrison book, I'm sure Immortal Man here is a little bit of all of those characters and maybe even a few more.

Immortal Man answers a call from Doctor Fate to join a group called The Watchmen, unless he decides to call it the Justice League. Oh! Or maybe the Society of Super-Heroes! I bet that's why this comic was called that! Master Comic Book Reader!


See? He's also part Phantom Stranger! Maybe! And some guy named Mortimer! No, wait! "Morty" is probably just a cute sex kitten nickname for "Immortal Man." Master Comic Book Reader!

Maybe I should stop proclaiming I'm a Master Comic Book Reader every time I show that I have an average ability to comprehend what I'm reading.

A few of the other people looking to join the Society of Super-Heroes are the Blackhawks (the all-female division), and The Mighty Atom. He completed some workout course he found in the back of a comic book and then put on a Doctor Manhattan mask, so now he thinks he can be a real super-hero. He's probably going to die, along with half of the Blackhawks.

Doctor Fate has a copy of the haunted comic book that Nix was trying to vivisect at the beginning of last issue. I don't know how you vivisect a comic book but that's what he was doing and I'm just trying to be accurate for once in my life! And since the comic book is extremely dangerous, Doctor Fate left it out where anybody could put their tiny little mighty hands on it. The Mighty Atom gets yelled at just before Jemm, Son of Saturn, arrives.


Dammit! This would be the perfect moment for that yellow penis joke I used to tell in third grade and now I can't remember it!

Abin Sur mentions he has 100 planets to patrol in his Sector 2814. The Green Lantern of Earth-23 said he had one hundred and one planets to patrol! How come Universe-23 has one more inhabited planet than Earth-20? Unless this is Earth-40? It's one of those, according to the cover!

Doctor Fate put out the call for adventurers because a parallel earth might soon be colliding with their earth. The only way to stop devastation on a scale nigh unimaginable is to recruit an eighteen year old comic book reading kid that cosplays Watchmen charactes, a guy that can't die, some women that can fly airplanes really well, and a Green Lantern. And since Abin Sur had already agreed to help Doctor Fate (having brought the warning to Doctor Fate himself), I'm kind of at a loss for why he needed these other chumps to help out! It's like hiring Black Widow and Hawkeye to be on a team with, well, anybody else with actual superpowers! When the Avengers have a Halloween party at their mansion, I wonder if Black Widow and Hawkeye go as Wendy and Marvin?

The real heroes are on the parallel Earth! Go Vandal Savage! Kick their asses!


He's just a caveman! This world confuses and frightens him!

Vandal Savage is working with Felix Faust although it's probably actually Wotan since Wotan is Doctor Fate's fremesis. They decide to go to war with the parallel earth they just discovered. Or the guy whose throat Vandal Savage tore out with his teeth discovered. Credit where credit is due!

And since the Society of Super-heroes had just finished up a war against Jonah Hex, Nazi Mastermind, they were too weary to defeat Vandal Savage when he invaded. At least that's what Immortal Man says. "Too weary." Excuses, excuses! Vandal Savage was just too bad-ass for you, Mort! That's why you lost the United States of America to him and his suicide robots and his zombie army! And then five years passes in the space of two panels because it's time for Futures End: Multiversity #1?

Five years later, things aren't going very well. Abin Sur has been killed by The Fear-Thing (Solomon Grundy, possibly?), and The Mighty Atom's Doctor Manhattan costume has been ruined. But Doctor Fate's helmet has told him of the Monitors, and of Nix Uotan trapped in some eternal battle to save the universe, and the haunted comic book that probably has something to do with one of those things specifically! Probably the one about Nix fighting! Probably! And since Nabu told Doctor Fate all of these things, Doctor Fate knows about the Transmatter Cubes and how to get to The Bleed where the Monitor's Satellite sits waiting for more heroes to join the fight.

While The Blackhawks battle Lady Shiva and The Mighty Atom (with a fresh new Doctor Manhattan costume) battles Blockbuster, Doctor Fate opens the door to the Monitor's satellite. I wonder if he can smell carrot farts through it?


This battle plays out with as much magic as in the final battle in Wizards except with less bullets and more kicks to the balls.

As Fate drags Faust into his interrogation machine, Faust calls to the Fear-Thing: Parallax. Well, I guess that makes more sense than Solomon Grundy although I do think Solomon Grundy's yellow erection could have done serious damage to Abin Sur. Except Parallax did not kill Abin Sur like Solomon Grundy's penis would have, so I'm smarter than somebody even if I don't know who, or even know what I'm talking about. Abin Sur had to survive so that he can be the one to enter the Multidimensional Lex Luthor Parallelotelegram and appear on the cover of Multiversity #1.

At the end, Immortal Man spills Vandal Savage's blood, summoning Nix Uotan (probably the Destroyer version and not the Superjudge version) to this Earth. Is that also what happened in the first issue on Earth-7 when the Genesis Egg hatched? It seemed to hatch only after having Lord Havok's blood spilled upon it. I think these heroes need to stop spilling blood!


Immortal Man sends out an SOS just like heroes from Earths all over the Multiverse have been doing.

More comic books should be like this! DC and Marvel have so much history, stop trying to force some kind of linear coherence on it all! Just let writers pick and choose and merge and mash and come up with fun shit to read like Multiversity! Hey DC! You can use that blurb on the back cover of the Multiversity trade, okay?

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Futures End: Teen Titans #1



Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.

As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.

And now, five years later, Goggles McDeathhurt and Xanadux Rat Wine (Mit Jellied Pinkies) Present: HOLY FUCK! Don’t Put That There Chai Tea! Of course, not everybody in The Dusty Stretches is a fan of the broadcast. One example: Weasel, formerly of The Long Boxes.

"Yer probably wondering why I'm limping, right?"

A woman layered in several different varieties of dust and grime, hair matted against her scalp from grease and sweat, tattered robes of various earth tones trailing from her body, acknowledges the speaker in no way at all.

"That bitch up there. That islander bitch, Goggles, fucking shot me. Fucking cunt. Who does she think she is?"

The woman angles her trajectory slightly so that she slowly, and barely noticeably, begins to drift away from the limping man. She puts one hand on the machete tucked into the fraying rope she wears as a belt. She wants to spit in his direction but decides he isn't worth the moisture.

"Who the fuck does she think she is, anyway?" The limping man glances around and catches the stare of a crazy eyed Asian man just a few feet away. The man's limp gets noticeably worse and he shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders at the staring man, a gesture meant to italicize his earlier complaints and, hopefully, bring the other man into some kind of shared confidence. Instead, the staring man points at Weasel's oozing leg, cackles madly, claps his hands, raises them to the air, and never looks in Weasel's direction again.

"What's wrong with you assholes? You think that whore has some kind of solution to this bullshit life? You think she's gonna save us all?"

"Shut the fuck up," comes a hoarse grumble from a direction Weasel isn't looking. He glances back toward the sound of the voice and tries to match it to a dirty, miserable, dusty face. But he has to admit it could have come from any one of these poor wretches.

"Oh! Who would have guessed? Flyshit bravery from you pathetic fools! Classic! Fucking cowards, the lot of you!" Weasel feels better getting in the last word but he is too disheartened to continue his lament. If they're going to treat me like the last dog on earth, they don't deserve to hear the truth, he thinks to himself in consolation. He can't understand why these people followed a person that convinced them to not only leave their homes but to burn them to the ground as well. The only reason he followed was because being alone outside of a city, especially at night, was suicide, plain and simple. This group offers, at the very least, protection from creatures and people that prey on lone travelers and easy marks. So Weasel shuts the fuck up because he isn't willing to be left behind, and he isn't ready to die terrified and alone.

Weasel shuts the fuck up and he trudges along toward an unknown destination with everybody else. He decides he's said enough. Everybody knows where he stands by now, so now it's time for him to keep his ears open. Others must exist within this group who are as disgruntled as he is. And the longer they march, the hungrier they get, the longer it takes to find out any information about what the fuck they're going to do, the more likely people will begin to turn to his side. In a desperate situation like this, all Weasel needs do is wait.

That night, he searches amidst the small clusters of strangers around separate, blazing fires for faces he does not recognize. When he finds one, he gestures at his leg, and at the ground, and a place is quickly made for him. A woman with two small children loans him an extra pillow where he can rest his leg, and a tall blond man leans over and offers him a flask. Before Weaseal can take it, the man gasps slightly and reaches out with his other hand to pull back Weasel's bandage. The bullet wound is red, and raw, and oozing. The man bites his lower lip and, without asking for Weasal's consent, pours a little alcohol directly into the wound. Weasel emits a sharp, quick scream before looking shocked and wide eyed at the man with the flask. The man fixes the bandage, gives Weasel's thigh a hearty squeeze, and he proffers the flask once more. Weasel smiles uneasily, accepts the gift, and takes three long swallows of some low grade moonshine. He coughs, wheezes a bit, and hands the flask back to the beaming man, happy to share his concoction with a new face. Nobody offers him any food because nobody seems to have any. If they've eaten, they do not say. They remain quiet until a sallow skinned teenaged girl brings out a battery operated radio. The others smile. Some sit up straighter, eager for the broadcast about to begin. Others lie back on scruffy, flea-covered blankets. Weasel just stares into the fire, praying they won't be listening to HOLY FUCK! Don't Put That There Chai Tea but knowing, before the static on the radio clears and Goggle's voice can begin to speak, that no gods are left to hear his prayer.

Goggles discusses the comic book "Futures End: Teen Titans #1" but Weasel only half-listens. He watches the faces of the seven strangers around the fire. They laugh at her jokes, a few of them cry when she discusses her old friend Skates and how he promised he and the others would give her the time she needed to get to some creep named Shortystuff. He and several others apparently died giving her that time, and that chance to get at Shortystuff. But though they gave her plenty of time, she never got the chance. It was all for naught and she never found Shortystuff. Most around the fire seem to agree with her future plans as she points out how Teen Titans speaks to her goals. It tells a story of rebellion and the end of corruption, about fighting back against those who think money can buy the lives and futures of the non-wealthy. Some grunt affirmations or dig their hands in the dirt as they're caught up in her decrying the richies and their way of life. But one, the man with the flask, looks sad through most of it, and he shakes his head often as he scratches a long stick in the dirt.

"A better way? Harumph," he mutters at one point. He does not argue, or condemn, or say one word of his feelings to the others. But Weasel senses in him a kindred hurt, and a deep, overwhelming sense of loss and sorrow. The world is shit and this man with the flask sees what Weasel sees...sees what Goggles cannot see...that any way to make the world better for some will only make the world worse for others. Weasel doesn't want Goggles' world, whatever the fuck it might be. And Weasel sees that this man, this stranger, this soon-to-be confidant and friend, does not trust her vision either. Weasel lies back without reaching out to this man. Not tonight. There will be time and tonight, the pain in his leg seems to have sent tendrils up through his stomach, and down near to the bottom of each foot. Too much walking, he thinks. If I could just rest, let it heal properly, everything will be okay. I could maybe even leave this group, or fight back. He smiles weakly at the thought of doing to Goggles what she did to him and his friends. He rolls over, putting his weight on his good leg, and, breathing shallowly, he falls asleep.

Weasel dies three hours later.

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Futures End: Pandora #1



Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.

As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.


And now, five years later, while humans try to get on with their lives by broadcasting meaningless nonsense into the ether, another species has been given the chance, quite by nuclear accident, to make some kind of meaning out of universal chaos. Those creatures, just as familiar with civilization as humans, being those urban marauders we once called raccoons.

Skeezer: "Zip Billy, zip Billy! Uph! Uph! Seek sides! Sees? Sees? Top swarmers! Tip top swarmers! Teeth 'em! Teeth 'em! Nit! Nit! Too tip top! Spin off! Skip off! Make big! Slowp, slowp! Make big!"
Billy: "HSSS! HSSS! Flop off, swarmers! Slowp down, swarmers. Gots? Gots chew? Nit teeth ya gots chew! Gives off. Hey! HSSS!"
Goggles: "Hullo, hullo. Now, now. Calms down, ever duster. Give 'em some room. Make it easy on 'em. Dey ain't gonna try nuffin' mit dis here scattergun pointed up dere cute little noses, sees it?"
Skeezer: "HSSS! Gives off sting stick, swarmer! Gives off! Billy? Zip Billy! Zip har!"
Billy: "HSSS! HSSS! Skip off! Zip har ya, Skeezer!"
Goggles: "Ain't no duster gonna teef no ovver duster here, ja? Keep calms, ya fuzzers. Ain't no use teefin' us, see? Gots chew right her, Old Goggles does."
Skeezer: "*SNIFF SNIFF* Rand chew! Resher chew! Give off, ya? Give off!"
Goggles: "Go on. Youse can haves it, see? Whole bag a kitten chow, ja? None us desperate enough ta eats it yet."
Skeezer: "Make big! Big! Gives off!"
Goggles: *dumping big bag of kitten chow across the road*
Skeezers, Billy, and half a dozen other mutant biker raccoons hop off their bikes and begin rubbing the kitten chow around the road.
Goggles: "Any duster here speak raccoon? Or dey jess got dese here single dozen words dey gonna use over und over 'gain?"
Archivist Melville: "Why don't we just spread out the rest of the bags of cat food and go around them while they're eating? Maybe we can leave Weasel with them as well? I think he's gonna be a goner from infection anyway."
Goggles: "Naw, las' fing we need teachin' dese here raccoon men dat man flesh as tasty as it is. Donna need no competition on dat front, sees? Jess dumps out all dat kitten chow we been hoardin' and let dese fings feast, ja?"
Archivist Melville: "Wasting all of that food on mutant biker raccoons will not please the lower voices, Goggles. They're already grumbling about your rationing."
Goggles: "What else can we do? Corpse and eat dese fings? Dat meat cain't be no good, ja? Radioactive y merde."
Archivist Melville: "Hmm. Yes, I think we can convince everybody giving up the cat food is in our best interests. The lower classes have traded in urban legends about the raccoon bikers for enough years to make them superstitious and frightened about aggravating them. I'll organize the caravan to go around if you want to dump out the food. They seem to like you."
Goggles: "Fuckity. Ja, ja. Okay."
Goggles walks around to the trunk of the limousine which Archivist Melville pops open before heading back to where Goggles' throng wait nervously. He begins organizing them in two separate groups to head around the raccoons on either side of them. Goggles begins lugging big bags of dry kibble cat food into the road, tearing them open, and spilling the contents amidst the frenzied raccoon men.
Skeezers: "All chew, swarmer! All chew!"
Goggles: "Yeah, yeah. All the fuckity chew for youse and yer pals."
Goggles empties the trunk of cat kibble, slams it shut, and tosses a Futures End: Pandora comic book into their midst.
Goggles: "Here. Enjoy sum readin' material while ya eat, ya fuckity fuzzers."
Skeezers: "HSSS! HSSS! Skip off!"
Goggles: "Yeah, yeah. Old Goggs be skippin', sees it?"
Goggles gets into the front of the limousine, puts it into gear, and slowly edges around the feeding raccoons, eventually merging with the caravan slowly passing to either side of the gang as the lower voices gawk and stare at one of the more insane sights The Dusty Stretches has to offer.

Skeezer stands up, nose twitching, lips pulled back, sharp teeth bared. Billy sits upon the colorful book Goggles tossed at them. "Give off, Billy. Give off!" Billy looks up, stands, and hisses, baring fangs covered in cat food mush. Skeezer takes a swipe at him, bloodying Billy's nose. Billy drops to all fours and scurries off behind his bike where he begins eating kibble from off of the road again. Skeezer sniffs at the Pandora comic book and cautiously reaches out a paw. He touches it with his right paw, then his left, then his right, then his left. He sniffs it a bit and then touches it again, alternating paws back and forth. He stares off at the others, or through the others, or off into some place nobody else can see. Eventually, his ritual finished, he picks up the book and gives it a lick. His tongue scrapes across the lenticular surface, making a sound like a record needle skipping across a bumped record. He sniffs it again, then sits back with his legs sprawled out in front of him. Carefully, he opens the comic, and begins sniffing at the pictures.


Skeezer sounds out the words, slowly, cautiously. "Balty-more. Mary-land."

"HSSS! Reading City! Reading City, swarmers begs now!" screeches Billy from over his shoulder, standing up and looking down at the comic book. He carefully licks the blood dripping from the side of his nose as he paws obsessively, maybe intimately, at Skeezer's shoulders. Skeezer snuffles and nods, carefully tasting the next group of words somewhere along the sides of his tongue.

"Do ya sees lig hit?" Skeezer doesn't remember when he first began to recognize the symbols painted on every hideaway built by the swarmers. It must have been before the growing time though. He and his family would listen, and watch. They would wait in the underground built by the swarmers, eyes peering out into the darkness, waiting for the swarmers to lie still before stealthily making their way into the swarmers' world. Skeezer remembers nights when he and his sisters and brothers would chase hundreds of cockroaches from the underground and up into the lights. They would drive them like the swarmers' cattle, grasping and chewing and teething and feasting. But what he really enjoyed were the rubbins. They would knock them over and dump the contents across the world, always finding treats and chews, tasties and belly fillers. And, it seemed, he was learning a great deal even then. Becoming more than just a four legged night dweller trespassing on the swarmers' secrets. But it wasn't until the growing time that he found he could speak the swarmers' symbols, and open the swarmers' hideyholes, and ride the swarmers' zip zips. Most of the knowledge the raccoons possessed, they had already gathered before the growing time. Once the change had occurred, they found it easy enough to put their knowledge to use. Some would say the raccoons had mutated and were thus able to enter the world of men. But they had entered the world of men many, many decades hence, learning and stealing for years and years.


Skeezer works his way through the entire comic. He has time; there is much food and it will all be eaten before dark. While there is light, he struggles through the swarmer book.

Billy grows bored quickly, leaving Skeezer to go snuffle up more kibble for himself, rolling over in it, rubbing individual pieces between his paws, eventually falling asleep sprawled out on the road. Skeezer continues to concentrate, to try to understand. Why do the swarmers put down the symbols? Do they point to a hidden cache of food? What else is there? If not food, what then? This Pandora character...who is she? Is she a raccoon as well? She, like Skeezer, repeats the same actions, over and over and over. But Pandora sees a flaw in this way of life. How could finding food, eating, sleeping, fucking, living, finding food, eating, sleeping, fucking, living, finding food...how can that be flawed? That is life. That is the way of things. But Pandora changes the pattern. And she finds happiness and hope in changing the pattern. Why?

Skeezer chews at the inside of his mouth. Something worries him intensely. He feels as if he just dropped down the inside of a fence to find a great barker drooling at him. He wants to scramble up something, or dig down below. His tail poofs, his hackles rise. He looks around and hisses at nothing, at everything. What is there to change? Why should Skeezer change? Is there...is there more? Something else? How could there be more? What more is needed?

Why do the swarmers make the symbols?! Skeezer drops the book and stands up, as tall as he can make himself. He hisses loudly but the others continue to snore or eat or fuck. He has awoken a barker that he cannot see but he can feel all around him and he doesn't know where to flee. He looks down at the comic and defecates on it. He scratches at it and kicks it away. He is panting now, and the world has gone blurry as it does when the sky wet comes down and mattes his fur. But the sky is blue and the ground is unwatered. Skeezer glances over at Billy. Something is missing. Something has been lost. Something has been awakened. Skeezer drops down on all fours and scurries to Billy's side. He sniffs at Billy's neck, and rubs his face with both paws, alternating one after the other. Billy fidgets but does not wake. Skeezer howls, drops his paws, and slowly, carefully, curls up against Billy's stomach. Billy puts an arm around Skeezer's shoulder, pawing, washing, fidgeting. And suddenly Skeezer feels calm settle down on him once again. His panic subsides. Some kibble sits near his nose and he flicks out his tongue, pulling it into his mouth. He crunches it slowly, sleepily, and eventually falls asleep enfolded in Billy's fuzzy embrace. For the first time, he dreams of something other than eating, other than fucking, other than the ritual. He will not remember the dream. But it will have an effusive, mysterious lasting effect. He does not know why but it makes him happy.

Futures End: Superman Loves Wonder Woman #1



Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.

As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.


And now, five years later, Goggles McDeathhurt and Xanadux Rat Wine (Mit Jellied Pinkies) Present: HOLY FUCK! Don't Put That There Chai Tea!

Welcome back, Scanners! Well fuck. Jess...jess fuck. Goggs and her caravan ain't even half da way up to Old York und all dese lower voices startem ta git restless. Seems bunches of em thunked we were out ta git us some koku, and raid us some feed houses, mebbe take us a kitten farm somewheres in the big green. Things be in da bucket seat und steerin' dese lower voices ta ruin. Seems dey cain't handles an idea a livin' mitout material wealth. Dey all wants somma dem old possessions, feels? Gittin' bored mit travel. Gittin' tired y hungry. Gittin' restless. Now, mos' of em gots nodust to go, so dey stickin' mit us. But won't gonna be long now fer scads of em takes off fer dere own fing. Und dat's fine...dat, well, dat's jess fine. Goggles ain't gonna keep harboring no 'lusions she gonna make all dem happy. Some dem gonna go back and rebuild up dem burnt cities, or jess heads ta one dat ain't been rioted on. Dey jess gonna find demselves livin dere lives fer some fuckity richie, jess like almays. But who be Goggles ta say dat's wrong, sees? Let's 'em go. Let's 'em all go, if dey wants. But Goggles...she gonna find a better way und she jess hopin' she can make dis world better fer some dese here poor wretches. Hopes ta meet Professor or one his messengers in a few minutes and git us an update on dat kinder place, Death Carousel. Mayhap dat gonna be da place we alls end up, startin' over, livin' mit trust y love and helpin' each other git through dese Dusty Stretches rather dan preyin' on each ovver jess ta make it anovver day. Crossin' dem fingers, feels?

Until den, Goggles still corpsin' time mit dese here fun fun littyrapture books. Got da second one in dat two parts story mit Wonders Woman y Supersman. Dey gonna fight, pobably, even dough dey should git fuckity mit each ovver, ja ja?


Dis be a step in da right direction. Ya knowem, fer da fucking.

Supersman and Wonders Woman never does git 'round ta bang banging. Instead Wonders Woman gives up da mantle of the God of War ta acomes da God of Peace. Und, um, I guessem everting turnered out okay affer dat.

Do mos' dese here Future End fun fun books Goggs been readin' seems like a bigbig waste a dust ta ever ovver duster too? Dis here fing given da big hope dat Wonders Woman gonna turn ta peace und save da world. But what da fuck goin' on in da world here? Dis whole Nemesis fing seems mucho different dan da big Earf 2 war goin' on in da ovver books. Is dis fing a metaphor or somefin? All dese books jess lousy fantasies bout what dese characters mightem come ta in da future but mos' likely ain't gonna come ta ever. Some dese stories hints at da stories gonna be told in da comin' minutes but acourse none of 'em gonna end da way dey do in dese here books. Readin' dese here books jess like watchin' some duster masturbate fer awhile und den never climax. Big sorry bullshit, me finks.

Why da fuckity do Old Goggs keep readin' dem, hunh? She keeps wishin' dey gonna be entertainments but dey keep windin' up bein' disappointments. Dey jess gots no point. Life a'eady got no point; stories outta have one, feels it? Story drags out, it gonna end mitout resolution, mayhap mit no point at all. Dreams never goned for. Hopes never attained. Conflicts never resolved. Story gotta haff an endin', see? Mos' dusters in dere own story what gonna end when dey corpse it but dere story ain't gonna be worth hearin the tell tale of, ja? Littyrapture shouldna outta be da same way. Tells me somefin got meanin. Gives me characters I wanna roots fer. Donna jess write bunches and bunches a chapters dat ain't ever gonna git nowheres never. Old Goggs might as well jess be talkin' bout her own life dat be da case, sees? Cause looks at dese lower voices I be surrounded by. Fuckity maniacs, drug droppers, psychowindups, grievers, lossers, bendups, lespers, slothgullies, time bandits, beggarts, und more. Not a one person in dis group give one rat's ass koku fer Goggles McDeathhurt, sees? So whys am I wasting my time mit dem, and mit dese here fun fun books?

Fuckin' shoulda stayed in Buzztown.

[Loud screeching]

Hey, Archivist Melville? Why ya fuckin' stop, ja?

[Slight electric hum followed by a gasp from Goggles]

Whoa. What da fuck is dat? Um, hey ya, lower voices, Goggles gotsta go fer now. Lookin' like dem mutant raccoon bikers ain't no urban, sees it? Shit, I hope dey is friendly or dey corpse it easy. I bet dey sure am tasty, feels?

Friday, September 26, 2014

Futures End: Wonder Woman #1



Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.

As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.


And now, five years later, Goggles McDeathhurt and Xanadux Rat Wine (Mit Jellied Pinkies) Present: HOLY FUCK! Don't Put That There Chai Tea!

Welcome back, Scanners! Goggles und her caravan leavin' Reading City now mit buckets and buckets of knowledge. Headed norf 'gain, for no real reasons but ta maybe meet up mit The Professor, if'n he's made it back from Death Carousel allup in what useta be Maine. Got no real fersure knowhow bout where ta turn next. Mostly acause Goggles...well, cause I...I'm fuckity scared, sees it?

[Nearly half a minute of silence]

I'm scared ta finish this. Beginnings...dey fuckin' easy, sees? Ya open da door, ya step dat one foots right out in front of da ovver, and ya git gone. Froward momentums is da easy part. Okay, okay...mayhap da initial gittin' moving be hard. But oncet ya steel up yer will und ya git yer mind lasered 'nuff ta push froward, ya begin ta coast. Ya git shit in motion ya got no reals control of, sees? Move, move, move. Ya stop finkin. Ya set dat cruisem control. Keep yer eyes jess far 'nuff 'heada ya ta keep from breakin' yer nose on some up and comin' obstacle. But when ya gots ta git an overview...when ya takes dat moment ta really look down da road und try ta git a bead on yer destination...dat when da panic comes down like da moon suddenly relyin' on youse alone ta keep it afloat. Da weight of it all come down on youse, und ya not sure ya gonna make it. Ya ain't ever gonna git ta that promised point, feels? Ya jess knows it. And den ya looks aroun' at all da flotsam and jetsam of society, all da lower voices what left all dey knew (even if what dey left was shit y misery and sickness y death) acause you said dis gonna be better. Ya looks around und ya cain't help but see in dere faces disappointment and anger and despair and an ever gnawin' hunger fer somefin ya ain't, in da end, gonna be able ta provide. Mayhap most dem looks on dere faces all jess up in yer head, and ya doin' dat projectin' fing, yer fears colorin' all dat shit ya eyes restin' on. But some dem looks real, ja? Some dem peeps fuckin' hatin' youse, mes, right now. Dey world been flipflopped one too many times a'eady fer me ta go und do it again acause I fink dey should be believin' da same fings I am.

Dat's da truly scary part. Dese peeps ain't me. What dese Dusters really want? What motivatered dem ta take up torches und follow Old Goggs outta dem cities mitout even a promised land in dere future? Why'd I take up dis here 'sponsibility? Who am I? Who am I ta fink I can build a world what will work for ever dusted individual? Dat's why I'm scared. I'm fucking terrorfied dat I ain't gonna deliver und all dese Dusters jess gonna be worse off den dey was livin' in dem richies' world.

Grant was pobably right. Shoulda never lef' Buzztown. But fuckity youth, ya know? Fuckin' passion of youth. Like firin' a scattergun, ya know? Ya jess want stuff so badly, ya want justice so much, ya want...well, ya want ever duster ta feel free and unshackled und unburdened by dis society dat fink it onny gone run correct-like if ever duster under control ravver den jess trustin' us all. Jess a little trust. So ya run out und ya fire dat scattergun willy-nilly. And ya sometimes hurt dem whats deserves it und ya takes em down a peg and fings change fer da better. But sometimes, ya catch innocents and friends in dat scatter-spray, sees? It ain't till later...when passion still mayhap be dere strong y urgent but ya gain some new perspectives, und ya learn to laser focus dat passion ta take out jess da right cancers. Well, Old Goggs lef' Buzztown mit tons of dat youthful passion but she's learnin'--fear be teachin' her hard--dat mayhap she been doin' some dat helter-skelter trigger pullin'. Grant was pobably right. Shoulda never lef' Buzztown. Be sittin' in da shade, lookin' out on Trips Lake, naked y carefree, gittin' high as a fuckity cloud. Jess let da res' a dem Dusty Stretches fades inta memory.

But fuck. No matters how much Goggles lovered dat fuckity Grant und dat fuckity farm and dat fuckity lake and dat fuckity shady grove mit da full moon orgies...Goggles kept seein' Alice B Toklas's face when Wazzerman kicked over Sweetie's cage and put a bullet in dat poor fuckity parrot. And Goggles seein' Alice, afore dat, how she used ta put her eye up ta dat hole in Sweetie's sheet, what covered her cage while she slept, und Alice, gigglin' like a maniac, sayin', "Sweeeeeeeeetie! Sweeeeeeeeetie! The eye has come for you! THE EYE HAS COME!" Und sometimes, Sweetie, woked up und startled, would say, "Hello! Hello!" And Alice would fall over on da floor, happier den anyduster in The Dusty Stretches had a right ta be, her happiness infectin' alla us, und makin' us weep joyful tears fer oncet, and thinkin' hopeful thoughts of da future. I would fink on dat sittin' by dat lake mit Grant, my hand on his inner thigh, his cuppin' my ass, and I'd fink, "I, alone, have no right to this peace." I'd think how Shizgiggles were still out in dem Dusty Stretches, makin' it da hard way. Und I knowed I couldna be happy 'less I tried ta git dat dere peace fer alla dem lower voices. Dat way a life too precious ta be kept all secreted y hid. Goggles figger she gonna go out and spread dat message and fix da world.

Sure, she also finkin' she gonna fuck up Shortystuff und his richie friends while she at it. Make dem feel dat same loss Alice felt mit da death of Sweetie, and Goggles felt mit da death of Alice. But now I looks round at all dese Dusters, all dese lower voices, and fear grips every inch of me because...well, because dere's jess too many of 'em. So Goddessdamned many of 'em. Goggles almays knew Buzztown gonna be too small. But she figgered, some dusty place gotta be big nuff, rights? But fuck. So many. Und dese jess da few dusters gatherem up from two cities. And onny a tiny, minischool fraction of dem evens!

So yeps. Here I am. Scared ta finish this shit I started. Because ain't no way Goggles gonna truly be capable makin' any duster happy 'cept herself. Fuck you, Grant. You selfish prick. How'd you knowed it? Goggles shouldna lost dat selfishness she guarded so carefully back in da Formertimes. Fuckin' mistake leavin' Buzztown but, well, dat be in da past. No use cryin' over guilty milk.

Distractions all we got lef' here in The Dusty Stretches. Goggles claimered time and dust again dat she stranglin' wisdom outta dese here fun fun littyrapture books like dis Wonders Woman she got sittin' on her lap waitin' ta be read. But is dere really anyfing ta knowed come outta dese here? Or dey jess reminders of somefin else und distractions from everfing? Dey merely papers mit words y images dat Goggles projects her own life onta, feels? But...well...I fink, mayhap, dere be somefin important ta dat, sees? Connection, mayhap? Like dem horoscopes, kinda, sees it? Sayin' its own fuckity fing und being read by lotsa lotsa different dusters, all gettin' somefin from da littyrapture but none a dem gittin' da same fing. But all still feelin' better fer havin' reads it, feels? And since Goggles is currently scared ta shit, she gonna read a story bout dis here stronges', braves' woman dat ever been thunked up. She gonna project herselfs onta Wonders Woman fer a bit, mayhap feel better, ja?


Aha. One woman 'gainst legions. Goggles ain't gonna have ta project too far on dis one.

'Parently dese here fulla stars demons ain't heard dat Wonders Woman can onny be corpsed by a relation, feels? Dat cause she one of dem Olympic gods or somefin. Unless she can be kilt since she's half-human. Or be she all clay? Old Goggles cain't memember. She pobably bein' hunted down by Granny Goodness or some ovver jerk from Apokolips, ja? Or mayhap she gotten on da wrong side of Hera 'gain.


Sure, dey cans corpse it. But onny if dey piss off a relative.

As da God a War, Diana been tryin' ta make everlastin' peace on earf. But some broad named Nemesis ain't like dat idea much, sees? Gots an idea dat bein' Nemesis, she ain't gonna haff much of a life if'n war were ta end. Hell, war be pretty much ended here in The Dusty Stretches but ain't no shortage of one kind hatin' on anuvver kind. Dusters always gonna find plenty reason to corpse da next duster comes along. Dat fear of da ovver, dat a fear ain't never gonna be got rid of, feels me? Fear of da unknown almays gonna git a duster's insides twisted. Und what be more unknown den da mind of da nex' guy, sees? Dat nex' duster gonna take my shit? Gonna take my home? Gonna take my life? Cain't know, not fer certains. Onny way ta be sure und safe be ta corpse everone afore dey corpse you.

Now, now. Goggs donna feel dat way, no madams. Dat Resurrectionist talks, sees? Dat fear in da belly talks. Dat da need ta control ever little bit a your world so ya donna corpse from anyfing but elder age, ja? Old Goggs, as well as dis here Wonders Woman, we finking dat mayhap trust be a better way den control. Trust dat dat ovver also donna wanna be corpsed by some ovver ovver. Trust, confidence, bravery, und projection be da new way. If'n ya ain't scared of everting, ya ain't gonna project dat fear onto dem uvvers und fink dey gonna corpse you outta fear, sees? If ya fink ever duster be alike, und ya fink of yerselfs as brave y compassionate, ya gonna fink dat dere nex' guy fink da same ways, sees? Sure, sure. Ya gonna meet da little ratfink bassard like Shortystuff or Wazzerman ever now y again. And den ya gonna need ta do some corpsing. But trust be better den genocide, rights?

Some ya pobably still finking, "But Goggles, if I trust everybody, one day I'm going to get stabbed in the back for it. What then?" Well, what den? Den ya fuckity die, don't ya? And if ya corpsed, ya donna care one way ta other, ja? But if'n ya still finking 'bout bein' stabbed in da back, ya still fearin' da ovver und ya still part dem Formertimes, sees? Enough mit da tryin' stop up ever single avenue dat old death might come traipsin' downs. He gonna break inta yer place sometimes und ya jess gonna have ta live mit never knowin' when dat gonna happen. Be better livin' mit love y hope den hatred y fear, feels me?


Sees it? Goggles und Wonders Woman same same duster, practically!

Wonders Woman speakers mit sum dem dead dusters she gots fightin' fer her. She gotsta knowem why dey does it. Und dey answer dat it's acause dey wants dem dusters still livin' ta git a fair shakes at it acause life be all of it. Ain't nuffin' else but life, sees? Hopes. Chances. Possibilities. Dat's it. Dat's all dere is. Dis here. Dis is it. Who wants dis, da onny bit of anyfing dat matters, ever...who wants dis ta be constant misery und ill fortunes? S'pose if'n ya got no choice but ta be corpsed or ta be miserable, Old Goggs gonna take miserable und make da best of it. But dat ain't da onny choice, is it? Dusters fight battles not acause dey would ravver die den be slavered. Na. Dey fight acause dey believe dey gonna win dere freedom und keep on livin' betters, sees it? No matters how hopeless, dusters fight cause dey gots slivers of hope. Dem dat donna fight? Dem da ones a'eady corpsed it, or might swell be, anydust.

Wonders Woman realizes she be da Goddess of War und mayhap it be time ta put on da helmet und kick some asses, sees? She suits up und dats when Superman, who also now be fulla dem stars, meaning he pobably on Nemesis side, come upon Wonders Woman ta have a chat. Und den dis littyrapture book gonna be continued in dat Superman/Wonder Woman Futures End book. I pobably gots dat in da trunk somewheres or somefin, so Old Goggs be readin' dat one nex' time. Gotta long ride up norf, so Goggs gonna nap some fer now.

Goddess be mit ya, or whateverem, rights?

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Futures End: Batman and Robin #1



Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.

As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.


And now, five years later, Goggles McDeathhurt and Xanadux Rat Wine (Mit Jellied Pinkies) Present: HOLY FUCK! Don't Put That There Chai Tea! But other radio broadcasts continue to pierce the dust. One of these is "Deep Thought," The Deep Stacks continuous cataloging of any text they can find. The broadcasts are archived in block of various length, depending on how much each Archivist is willing to read before ending his or her block to let the next Archivist on air.

Welcome to Deep Thought, Block Twelve Thousand, Twenty-Eight. I am Archivist Kesey. I've got something here that I wanted to read to everybody, and I wanted them to think on it, and to try to figure out what it means to them and their own life. But don't get all pretentious and intellectual about it. Just let the story settle inside, lay down its blanket, stretch out, relax, and make itself at home. It's a tough world out there and sometimes you just need to take a moment and get away from your own thoughts. Vacate your head, let someone else in, and just enjoy the ride. These days, it seems like the only way to escape the hardships, right?

This text is Futures End: Batman and Robin #1. It's published by, oh, I don't know, DC Comics, I think? Some of these Archivists out here are sticklers for details but what's the point? We've got the book right here! My reading of it won't matter to history. But it does matter now, to those people listening, looking for a little time out. So sit back, shut your eyes, and open your minds. Let's ride this thing for awhile, shall we?


Batman has a new Robin. One he can trust to get the crime fighting business done but he feels distant enough from so as not to burden the new Robin with his many, many issues.

Robin, of course, feels neglected and left out of the loop. But Batman certainly doesn't want him in his vengeance loop, or his mourning loop, or his obsessive compulsive loop. Batman just needs somebody that can say, "Hey, man. I get it. Gotham has some bad people, ya know? I can take care of those bad people without any supervision. I got this." Batman does not need somebody to say, "Hey, Batman! Do you approve of the job I just did? How about laying down a warm fuzzy or two on this here guy working the work for you? Maybe a pat on the back? A little praise? A compliment or two? Um, Batman? Batman? Am I doing a good job? Love me, Batman! Love me!" This new Robin seems like he's the first type but he also seems like he needs a bit more information from Alfred or Batman or some cat somewhere! We all got a few issues with the self-esteem sometimes, and a little transparency and clarity really help to chill it out.

Batman is currently on a bad trip chasing down a guy dressed up like the dude who killed Damian, The Heretic. That probably won't end well since The Heretic was a messed up clone of Damian and this one's probably a clone as well. And if he isn't as messed up as the last one, Batman might think Damian's come back to him.

Batman and The Heretic fight for a few pages while Alfred continues to get more and more worried about Batman's health. Apparently he's been so hard on his body that five years in the future, he's in worse physical condition than Alfred who must be thirty years older than he is, if not forty.


Alfred is always the first to crack. Didn't Damian's death teach him anything about being too soft? Bah, Alfred can't be anything except Alfred. It's why he's such a lovable character.

Robin saves Batman's life but in the process, The Heretic burns up. Batman takes a DNA sample to find out if it's a Damian clone but that question is never answered in this story. Instead, Batman realizes he's getting too old for this shit. He's let fear worm its way into his being, little by little by little over the years. Damian's death. Nightwing's near death. Lex Luthor discovering his identity. Bane breaking his back. Earth almost being destroyed by Apokolips. He hasn't realized how much it's eaten away at him and it all began when he lost the confidence in his sidekick's ability to keep himself safe. But this Robin is far less sidekick than the others, and, as Batman has lost a lot of speed, strength, and endurance over the years...this Robin is probably Batman's equal if not...no, no. That's not a thought that needs to be voiced, now is it? Batman's a tough bastard and he'll always figure out a way, even if he needs to lean on, and learn to trust, new people in his life.

Hey, that was a short one, wasn't it? I wonder if I got anything else to read lying around here? Let's see...a list of chemicals I need for my cooking later. Can't read that out or I'll go out of business, right? Ha! Oh wait! Here! Here's a poem I was working on earlier when I felt connected to this present in a way I don't normally feel. Ahem. I call it "Sin Chrono City."

When Jesus Christ was crucified,
Kennedy was shot,
While Robespierre killed thousands,
Hitler did the same,
During a trial of ideas
Which left a great Greek dead
And caused a sudden rush toward space.

When Jesus Christ was crucified,
Prohibition cause a war
Between Europeans and the Indians
As a man named Jack killed London whores,
Lincoln sat and watched a play
Of a culture lost across a sea
And enslaved through countless years.

When Jesus Christ was crucified,
A universe was formed
And dinosaurs roamed through the space
Between atoms and seconds and stars,
Between cities which rose to cover the globe
While a flood cleansed this world's sins
In a garden of once perfect bliss.

Jesus Christ was crucified
The moment he was born.

I don't know. I was feeling a bit cosmic for a second. It's nothing much but a few scant phrases jammed together in a fairly repetitive pattern. But if I don't document the things I've written, who will? Archivist Shakespeare? Archivist Melville? Maybe Archivist King might. He's pretty keen on popular writings. And by popular, I don't mean thought of as cool! I mean that other definition that has to do with the masses or something. Bah, you know what I mean. I'd read the definition but I'm pretty sure it's already cross referenced in Block Blah Blah Blah.

Anyway, I'll leave you for Archivist Austen after one more poem, since I've now got Jesus Christ on my mind. I called this one "Being There."

As the cross was set upon the ground and ready to be raised to stand up high, I thought of the coming vengeance.
As they led the "Messiah" to his proving grounds, I laughed at and scorned his hated name.
As they threw his thin body upon the ground, I was the first to kick him.
And they tore off his clothes and they spit on his face and they laid him upon his wooden tomb.

And the crowd roared for a miracle, but the heavens would not open up.

As they bound his wrists upon the posts, I felt my own wrists burn.
As they tied his ankles around the base, I felt that I might fall.
As they put the crown of jagged thorns upon his human brow, I felt the sting of angry barbs encircling my own.
And they pounded the nails down into his palms and they raised the cross to stand up high, and one of them ran him through with his spear.

And the crowd roared for a miracle, but the heavens would not open up.

As the blood flowed down his wrists, I thought of every man whom I'd fought.
As the blood ran down his gasping chest, I thought of all my words against God.
As the blood ran down below his waist, I thought of every partner I'd had.
And he called to the Lord; and the guards, they all laughed; and a few of the women, they cried.

And the crowd began to walk away for the heavens would not open up.

All grew quiet as he sighed his last breaths, and I suddenly knew I was wrong.
So I cried to the lord that I should be forgiven, but I knew he ignored every word.
And I walked away to live my life so that Jesus Christ might die.

Bah, it's silly. But I suppose we should all get the chance to document the things that come out of our head, right? I guess I'm kind of lucky to have an audience. I think. Are you out there? Ha ha! Okay, Archivist Austen is looking forlorn and melancholy, so I think you're in for a good nostalgic cry in the next few hours. Take care. I mean, this ends Block Twelve Thousand, Twenty-Eight! Break out, people! Good night!

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Futures End: Supergirl #1



Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.

As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.


And now, five years later, Goggles McDeathhurt and Xanadux Rat Wine (Mit Jellied Pinkies) Present: HOLY FUCK! Don't Put That There Chai Tea! But other radio broadcasts continue to pierce the dust. One of these is "Deep Thought," The Deep Stacks continuous cataloging of any text they can find. The broadcasts are archived in block of various length, depending on how much each Archivist is willing to read before ending his or her block to let the next Archivist on air.

Welcome to Deep Thought, Block Eleven Thousand, Five Hundred, Sixty-Three. I am Archivist Wharton. For reference purposes, my last Block was Eleven Thousand, Three Hundred, Seventy-Eight. Text read and commented on within that block was Polaroids from the Dead (partial) by Douglas Coupland. The entire text spanned Blocks Eleven Thousand, Three Hundred, Sixty-Five to Eleven Thousand, Three Hundred, Eighty-Two.

Today is the Fourteenth of Queequeg. The time is Five Sixteen PM. The first text is DC Comics' "Futures End: Supergirl #1" by writer Tony Bedard, penciller Emanuela Lupacchino, inker Ray McCarthy, colorist Hi-Fi, letterer Rob Leigh, editor Ricky Purdin, and group editor Eddie Berganza. The three dimensional cover with two images, each seen only at specific angles (one image of a human Supergirl, the other image of a cyborg Supergirl with a cyborg Superman) was done by Giuseppe Camuncoli, Cam Smith, and Dan Brown. The story is called "The Perfect is the Enemy of the Good" (cross reference Voltaire's La B├ęgueule, Block Five Hundred, Thirteen).

The story takes place five years after the previous issue of Supergirl (cross reference Supergirl #34, Block Eleven Thousand, Five Hundred, Sixty-Two). Supergirl has become part machine and now calls herself Herald Two. She has teamed up with Cyborg Superman who she refers to as Herald One. They have returned to Earth seeking a neo sapien which they can use to recreate a Kryptonian. Cyborg Superman explains that he was almost destroyed the last time he was on Earth (cross reference Doomed #2, Block Eleven Thousand, Five Hundred, Sixty-Two).

Supergirl has never felt she fit in on Earth, having known only heartache, sorrow, and rejection. Presumably Cyborg Superman has provided her with love and friendship, or at least the robot equivalent of them. If only Supergirl had known previously that Cyborg Superman was her father, Zor-el, perhaps she would have fought to save him from the grip of Brainiac rather than giving in to Brainiac's control herself. Although love is all Supergirl has desperately been seeking after feeling betrayed and abandoned by her father just before Krypton exploded, so learning that Cyborg Superman was her father could also have sent her into a childish tantrum but backed with her incredible strength and new powers gifted from the yellow sun.

Supergirl's search for a neo sapien leads her to Captain Comet (cross reference DC Comics Presents #22 and DC Comics Presents #91, Block Five Thousand, Eight Hundred, Nine).


Sad, lost, unloved Kara Zor-el seems to have found people who loved her in The Wanderers (cross reference Adventure Comics #375 for the first appearance of their first incarnation, Block One Thousand, Six).

Kara remembers her love for Captain Comet, for Adam. Love. What is it, really? How did it manifest within Supergirl's heart, within her mind? Was she truly in love with the man that was Captain Comet, or was she in love with feeling love and acceptance for the first time while on Earth? And what did this Adam find appealing in Supergirl? Was she the manifestation of the one woman Adam had ever met that could compare with his advanced evolutionary being? Was she simply a mirror of his own self, constantly feeding Adam's ego which he mistook for intimacy and caring companionship? Why has Adam searched so long for Supergirl after she was removed from his life? My guess is that their love remained unrequited, and it was this driving, thirsting need for that which he lost before he could ever have it that propelled him forward. That is my guess because what it hardly ever actually is, is love.


Who is the most likely to keep a woman from love, to make sure a woman keeps to her class, and her people? Who is the one that drastically tries to shape a girl to be what he, and the society he is true to, needs her to be? The answer is right in front of you, Kara. Who else could he be but your father?

Kara continues to ask the question, "Who are you?" If he finally relents and tells her, after all the troubles he took on to keep the secret safe, he will be making his final mistake. At this point, the last person she wants to still have any say about her life is the man that did not allow her to choose her final fate when her home was dying. He was the one that drove his child away. And once gone, the child he dreamed of, the one he hoped would make a big splash in society, the one that would sweep all the young, wealthy, important men off of their feet...that child was, is, lost to him, to herself, to society...to everyone. All he will be met with is years of rage at the man who took everything from her even though he was merely trying to give her everything.

Cyborg Superman never reveals the truth although it would seem Supergirl can guess and is simply denying it from herself. Captain Comet's Wanderers arrive to defeat Cyborg Superman and drive him away. It is then that Supergirl finds what she believes she has been searching for.


She is correct that love is fleeting and fragile and may exist only in this one perfect moment. For love truly only exists when it is longed for, and desired, and kept hidden away. What ifs hold more promise and intrigue than what is.

That brings to an end the text of "Futures End: Supergirl #1." Next I have Chick Tract #13, "Caught," by Jack Chick (cross reference The Next Step for Growing Christians, Block Three Thousand, Three Hundred, Fifty-Four).


The story begins with a man and a hesitant, virginal woman rendezvousing at a seedy motel. The room in which they intend to fornicate is full of strange creatures, a large angel, and a possibly rabid dog.


The angel videotapes the sexual liaison while a small creature with spotted skin joins in. Later the three go out to dinner where they're greeted by a dimwitted man that cannot perceive what is right in front of him and cannot keep his big mouth shut.


The woman, Jessica, decides she needs to be forgiven for having sexual relations with a liar, so she calls Roger's wife to let her know that she had her husband's dick inside of her and to please tell her that she's okay with it.


Roger reacts appropriately to his wife's Dear John letter where she calls him a shameful snake with AIDS. The little spotted guy hopes he has a son forthcoming.


Roger begins to feel guilty so he calls his cousin who hates him. His cousin pretends to be busy and sends him to the most obnoxious, self-righteous member of his church.


Bob commits the sin of pride all over the place when he speaks for God by telling Roger how God feels about what Roger did.


Roger points out that everybody at church is committing adultery, so he thought they were going to have a good gossip but Bob ruined it by becoming preachy. But Bob decides preachy is Roger's best bet at God's forgiveness and begins to tell Roger all about King David.


When David was young, he was already showing disturbing, sociopathic behaviors like killing animals. But eventually, the Israelites would need a psychopath when they were confronted by a giant man that was tired of being called a monster.


Goliath makes a terrible, terrible wager not realizing that the true monster is a boy in the front row of the gathering throng.


David continues to show signs that he is a bloodthirsty psychopath.


David becomes king and sees his first naked woman. He thinks sex might be better with his horned, spotted friend if they included this woman in the act.


King David remembers to invite the angel to his orgy. Too bad God had not yet invented video cameras.


God, who is responsible for all births, apparently uses children to punish sinners.


King David shows Uriah what to do with his finger while he makes love to his wife. Uriah forgets to ask how King David knows that his wife likes that finger thing.


As long as Kind David was in, and in for good, he might as well go the whole hog (cross reference The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Block Eight Thousand, Nine Hundred, Seventy-Four).


An obnoxious, self-righteous ass of Kind David's time stops by to tell him a thinly veiled analogy.


Bob indirectly tells Roger that he can solve his problems with murder followed by repentance.


Bob points out that Jesus died for Roger's sins, so if Roger believes it, Roger will be okay. But apparently there is another way to repent without believing in Jesus since Kind David came before Jesus and he still managed it somehow.


Roger makes a good point about how awfully self-righteous and obnoxious every conversation in heaven is going to turn out.


Robert eventually dies just like everybody will eventually die. Take that, you sinner.

That ends Block Eleven Thousand, Five Hundred, Sixty-Three of Deep Thought. Please stay tuned for Archivist Packard's Choose Your Own Adventure Hour.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Batman Eternal #24


Because of this cover, how many nerd reviews are filled with assholes spoiling as many books and movies as they possibly can?

I'm going to spoil the entire Lord of the Rings series for those people that have never been able to slog through it but have read tons and tons of Lord of the Rings fan fiction. Sam and Frodo never buttfuck in Mordor. Legolas never fucks Gimli on horseback while humiliating him and his ancestors. Pippin is not gang banged by Ents (at least not explicitly). Eowyn never rides Merry's face after he becomes a Knight of "Ridemyfacemark." Saruman's ultimate goal is not to skull fuck one of every creature in Middle Earth plus a few he creates himself. Hobbits do not celebrate their eleventy-first birthday with a huge gay hobbit orgy. Just before he dies, Boromir does not pull out his cock to have it sucked by Aragorn while dozens of mortally wounded orcs watch and masturbate. Frodo does not emerge from Shelob's lair sick from too much spider pussy. Gollum does not have a twelve inch penis. Okay, he might have a twelve inch penis. The actual book doesn't mention it at all. Which is weird when you think about it since Tolkien felt the need to describe nearly every other thing in Middle Earth in excruciating detail.

I now think maybe I should be writing Lord of the Rings fan fiction instead of commenting on DC's The New 52. Or perhaps I just need to stick more throbbing, erect phalluses into my commentaries. For those of you who just thought "That's what she said," fuck you. I said I should be writing fan fiction so you should have thought "That's what he said."

I wonder if Slash from Guns N' Roses hates that his name now basically represents The Smoking Man using his mouth to tell Fox Mulder's penis the truth, or Superman taking a big fat batcock right up his K-hole?

Here's a spoiler for Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea: I've come to realize that I hate comic book fans far more than I hate DC Comics. I don't blame DC for putting Batman in every single one of their comic books. How does it seem that the comic book fandom can't stop masturbating on everything Marvel puts out and yet Batman still sells more comic books than any other title month to month? Hey, you fucking Batfans? Just because Batman isn't on the cover of a DC Comic book, it doesn't mean that comic book isn't worth reading! Start branching out! DC has some other really good books. Like Batman and Robin! No wait. I mean, that's good, sure. But my point was good books without Batman. Well, I'd say Swamp Thing and Red Lanterns are fucking terrific and they're barely selling but I'd hate to get people reading those just when Charles Soule has signed an exclusivity contract with Marvel. Demon Knights is really...oh wait. How about All Star...oh. Hmm, forget that. Fuck it. Keep buying whatever you want to buy and I'll keep enjoying for extremely limited amounts of time good books with characters that don't sell comic books.

I actually wouldn't be surprised to see Harley Quinn begin starring in more titles by the way her book is selling. Fucking comic book fans. I should actually say comic character fans because by the monthly sales stats, I'd have to say a large majority of people reading comic books don't actually care about the medium. They simply care about specific characters no matter how shitty they're being written. They've made an emotional connection to the character somewhere along the way and simply get squidgy feelings all up and down their insides that may or may not be (but probably are) connected to their genitals whenever they see the character. Even if that character is currently referring to her vagina as a clown car.

I'm just bitter that I can't have long runs of characters I identify with, like Etrigan and Jonah Hex. And Constantine will probably soon be canceled according to his monthly sales but that might be okay since he's been fucking neutered since being forced into regular continuity. Maybe Harley Quinn should start saying things in her comic book like, "I sure am interested in what happens to that Swamp Thing! Anybody that loves my adventures would certainly love the adventures of the Swamp Thing!" Or maybe all of DC's comic books should be team comics starring Batman and the other character that previously wasn't sharing the title with him?

Oh, who am I kidding? When I say that I hate comic book fans, I'm really just saying I hate myself. I hate myself for caring about this medium! I hate myself for reading issue after issue written by Ann Nocenti! I hate myself for...well, for other more personal and intimate reasons that I'm not sharing with the likes of you, perverted internet denizens.


It's Hush! It's already been revealed! It isn't a mystery anymore! You suck at spoiling!

Cluemaster reports to Hush that he and his gang are fucking with Gotham's infrastructure so that every citizen of Gotham will be kicking their pets. Signalman is fucking with the traffic lights because he chose a stupid name like Signalman. Serves him right. Ratcatcher is running around in the sewers trying to spread disease. He'll probably get picked up by Maxie Zeus or Killer Croc soon. And the Prankster has decided Chicago is no fun with Nightwing dead, so he's moved to Gotham where criminals seem to be able to do whatever the fuck they want, whenever they want. Sure, occasionally one of them gets some bones broken by Batman. But Batman can't be everywhere at once, right? Judging by the amount of crime in Gotham, the risk of encountering Batman seems low enough to overcome the fear of that encounter.

Later, Batman battles a deadly apparition at the Museum of Modern Art. Or it's possible he ruins a performance art piece by Doctor Ecks. Who can tell? I can't because I was programmed by the man.


This piece is called "Batman Standing in Front of a Picture of a Hamster Being Shrunk Down to the Size of a Hamster-Sized Candy Bar While Psychiatrist Sleeps."

Lastly, Spoiler manipulates her father, Cluemaster, so that he chases her outside Gotham city limits where he's picked up by state troopers who don't seem to be corrupt. Why is it Gotham cops are so corrupt? What is inherently wrong with Gotham? It must be Batman, right? I don't think Batman himself knows how he's being manipulated by Bruce Wayne. I really think Bruce Wayne is a master criminal. He controls real estate and technology in Gotham while he fosters the personality of Batman who goes about keeping the other criminal masterminds in check. Batman is a distinct personality that has an idea who Bruce Wayne is but doesn't truly know Bruce Wayne's plans and ambitions. But Bruce Wayne has no direct control over his Batman persona so he has to manipulate it in small ways, much like the protagonist of Memento manipulates himself to keep searching for his wife's killer no matter how many "killers" he kills. No wonder The Joker is in love with Batman. He's probably the only person that understands exactly how insane Bruce and Batman are.

Batman Eternal #24 Rating: No change.

Futures End #20


Poor Joker grew back his face only to lose it again thirty years into the future.

This week, Futures End begins boring the pants off of me. And by pants, I mean the British meaning of pants because I'm sitting here in my boxers. I doubt I've ever written anything while wearing pants (the American meaning of the word!). I never wear pants while at home. Sometimes I miss package deliveries because the doorbell rings and I have to run around searching for some pants to put on before heading downstairs to open the door. I suppose I can start answering the door in boxers since that's nearly like wearing shorts except with a greater chance of my penis flopping out. But then I'm sure delivery people have seen worse than my penis! Not that seeing my penis is a bad thing! Those delivery people should be so lucky!

So, the part that bored the pants off me was the part where Red Robin breaks into the offices of The Fast Lane where he's found out by Lois herself who must not be able to afford her own apartment because whey else would she be hiding out in a darkened office? Even if I were to believe that she's been staking out the offices for weeks, absolutely sure that Red Robin was going to break in at some point, I'm not sure I can believe that Red Robin would have fucked up the break in and allowed himself to be caught.

Aha! That's the key word! "Allowed!" It probably took him weeks to break into the offices of The Fast Lane because that's how long it took before he knew Lois was the only person still in the building! If Red Robin was caught, he obviously wanted a meeting with Lois. If there's one thing I've learned reading The New 52, it's that everything always works out exactly as Harvest planned it. Also, for those that may not have heard me the first five thousand times I said it: Harvest is actually vampire Tim Drake from the future. Not this measly five years into the future future! More like the Legion of Super-heroes one thousand years into the future future! But even if Tim isn't Harvest currently, that doesn't mean he doesn't have his "super plans always work out" powers yet.


You idiot! Lois Lane doesn't know the meaning of "off the record!"

Red Robin's story could only have been better if he had been spattered with Bunker's, Beast Boy's, Solstice's, Raven's, Skitters's, Kid Flash's, and Superboy's brains as well as Wonder Girl's. Jeepers Creepers (which I say so as not to offend any Christian readers even though I really meant to say Jesus Christ. I hope I fooled them...and God as well!), Scott Lobdell really managed to make me hate every single character that ever made their way through his stories. I always feel a little bit of glee when another writer, during one of these alternate future stories, kills the characters Lobdell's been writing. It's like they're saying, "These characters deserved better! Might as well kill them because they've been tainted with Lobdell's man musk." I once met Scott Lobdell. His man musk smelled of cheerios that were given penises by a mad scientist and then jerked off by sentient cabbages.

Okay, that last bit was a lie. I didn't sniff Scott when I met him even though he said, "Hello there. Would you like to sniff me?"

Okay, that last part was a lie as well! When I did meet him, he actually just ignored me and kept talking to his buddy that was nearby fucking roosters or something. Then he said, "Now get out of here, kid! I'm busy!" But he wasn't busy at all. I was only one of two people that were getting things signed by him. To be fair, I can't really blame that on him. Gail Simone didn't have a line either and I hear she always has throngs of people hanging around her table. I think maybe the residents of Portland, Oregon just had better things to do that day. Like take pictures with the whore from Serenity or the car from Supernatural!

Lois Lane shows Red Robin the secrets inside of her box. She also tells him that she can't live with a man because if a man were lying to her and didn't tell her, it would be over. So how does that work, exactly? Does the man have to make up something so that Lois feels he's being honest with her? If he doesn't have anything to reveal, does she figure he's lying and break up? How does she know when to break up with somebody?! Also, she's probably talking about Clark.

Thirty five years in the future (that's where Batman Beyond is from), Brother Eye has learned how to time travel by eating Bruce Wayne's brain. Now Brother Eye will send his Terminator back in time to stop Batman's rebel leader from destroying Brother Eye. And I suppose The Joker is Brother Eye's Terminator, right? Unless it will be a half-Joker, half-Batman robot monster.

I know I've mentioned it countless times so this is just a rhetorical device playing on the fact that I've said it so many times but have I ever said how much I hate comic book time travel stories? They're very rarely done well and almost always done exclusively as a shortcut to building a plot. Here's how it works. Create a dystopian version of the future. Send character back in time to warn people about the dystopian future. Heroes believe insane person that probably isn't actually from the future at all and work to prevent the horrible future from coming true. The heroes do the proper things and the horrible future disappears from reality! Unless it never existed in the first place. Anyway, it's just a simple way to get heroes working toward saving the world without really putting much thought into it.


Cadmus Island gets a few pages but I don't think they're worth talking about. Basically Faraday joins Fifty Sue's Anti-Brother Eye team.

Mister Terrific learns from The Key and Coil that they were hired by Bruce Wayne to break into Terrifitech. He was the guy putting up all that Final Job Money! How did I not guess that in Issue #1? Who else in the DC Universe has Final Job Money? Or is it called One Last Job Security Blanket? Anyway, I was probably too distracted by Coil and hoping against hope that it wasn't the asshat that Ann Nocenti wrote about in Katana.

So now the scene is set. Sometime in the last five years, Earth was invaded by Apokoliptian forces from Earth 2. The residents of Earth 2, the Twofers, sought asylum. But since the refugees were all doubles of people still living on Earth, they were feared and not trusted. And some were probably spies and some probably helped Apokolips and all that other stuff. So the war takes place, a lot of heroes did a lot of stuff they weren't proud of, and a lot of them died as well. Afterward, the world was split between people that wanted to help the Twofers to assimilate and those that didn't trust them. Mister Terrific seems to have made quite a name for himself, possibly helped along by the fact that he came over from Earth 2 but was originally from this Earth. Plus he's a genius and all that garbage. Sloan did just as well but was busy making technology for the people that didn't trust the Twofers. He probably has something to do with Cadmus. Anyway, Mister Terrific has also gotten help from Brother Eye and Brainiac. His help leads to the world thirty five years in the future where everybody has been assimilated, something DC loves to use as a plot point. In that future, Mister Terrific regrets what he did. Batman hasn't been seen much but he's just now entered the picture as the man behind The Key's gang trying to steal technology from Mister Terrific. In the future, he was the leader of the rebel army fighting back against Brainiac's robots and assimilated heroes. His last hope was sending Batman Beyond to the past to destroy Brother Eye before it is activated. But he landed too far in the future and now must try to stop Brother Eye from being reactivated since it was disabled during the war. And I guess that's pretty much it! I suppose I could mention that Green Arrow has a rebel group on an island ready to go against Cadmus but then I'd be in danger of boring myself by talking about Green Arrow.

In the last scene, Tim Drake tells Mad Payne that he's really Red Robin and she tells him to go suck dicks.

Futures End #20 Rating: No change. I'm still waiting for something to surprise me! Or for something to not be derivative of Star Trek or The Terminator! Maybe I can be turned around on this comic by somebody fucking somebody else. How about it, Gifazzmiregens? Make some people fuck some other people!