Constantine #23

The whole reflection on the tumbler part of the cover looks like it's straight out of Cerebus.

John Constantine doesn't know how to make friends. I get that. I don't know how to make friends either. The main problem is that friends expect you to actually go out in public and engage in fun activities. Or if you live a long distance from each other, they appreciate long telephone conversations where you update each other on everything that's happened in your lives since last you spoke. But when I'm out in public, I just think about the things I could be doing at home. And I can't stand speaking on the phone because my life isn't a roller coaster providing me with exciting ups and downs week after week. It's probably why when I call my mom, we spend most of the time talking about television shows and/or our pets.

Recently at my sister-in-common-law's husband's birthday dinner, the Non-Certified Spouse's step-brother (Jesus Christ, do we need familial names for everything? I may as well just say "a stranger") asked me what was new. What am I supposed to say? "Since last we spoke, I probably wrote about 100,000 words on various subjects that you don't give a shit about. But writing isn't an interesting experiential story, so from your point of view, I simply sat inside and did nothing." Instead I just said, "Nothing." His response was "Really? I've been so busy." And by "busy," I'm sure he means "enjoying and experiencing life to the ultimate maximum fullest!" I'm sure when I was his age (early twenties), I could respond to his question with many trials and tribulations which would bring him great joy to hear. I suppose if my writing were bringing in some kind of money, or if I packaged it into a socially acceptable manner such as a book they could hold, they'd view what I'm doing as somehow more important than just sitting in a dark room wasting my life. And why should anybody else care how I was consuming my years? If you judge it by your own standards, of course it's going to look like I'm doing the opposite of carpe dictum! "Dudebro! How can you not be out in nature drinking until you puke and smoking ganja! Grab life by the horny girls, man! Scream and yell in public places to show you're having a great time! Try to fuck as many people as possible!" Bah! Get off my lawn!

Maybe I can make friends if I start slowly like Constantine and make enemies first. And I probably shouldn't get my friends killed once I make them. But that's more John's problem than mine.

Ha ha! That's funny because it's the last issue!

Twenty minutes before this panel takes place, page two happened. That's where the huge hand of Darkseid followed Constantine and his pretend family through the portal he created. Also his portal opened in orbit around the Earth because I guess John didn't sacrifice enough friends to provide his spell any accuracy. So now if the giant hand doesn't squash them, or Constantine doesn't kill them with some off the cuff demon summoning, they'll probably suffocate in space.

Except I guess they don't because here they are in a field in England! And now Constantine has to endure the anger of his father. Again! It's tragic because he found a loving version of his father and now even that version hates him. I think it's time for John to look deep inside himself and ask, "Was my real father a dick or was it all my fault?"

As Constantine's Twofer father prepares to put a bullet in John's brain, John remembers how they arrived in this field. Constantine cast a spell to deceive Darkseid and make him think that the universe they escaped to was one that Darkseid had already destroyed. He could have also just shown him a picture of this Earth's Batman and Darkseid would have gone back to the Earth-2 Universe with soiled underwear.

The problem I have with this moment is that I don't feel it means anything. Has Constantine really been brought to a moment of world weary despair? Or is he just, once again, manipulating a situation to achieve the only goal he has ever shown he truly fucking cares about: his continued survival. I know I'm about as cynical as you can get though so it may read differently for more naive gullible credulous emotionally unstable empathetic readers.

Constantine's Twofer father can't pull the trigger so Twofer Maureen takes the gun and tries to put him down. But Constantine utters the magic letter and disappears because why should he ever die when he has the magics!? Ridiculous! Let the other people die! The ones with pockets full of no magic! They should have thought twice before not believing in magic and then dying because they didn't have magic to save them at the cost of somebody else's life. Idiots!

Twofer Chas points out that, you know, they are alive because of that jerk, you know? And at least that's better than not being alive. I mean, if your problem with being saved is that other people weren't saved and you don't know how to live with survivor's guilt, you don't have to be angry at the person who saved you while you take advantage of the gift that person gave you. You can always just kill yourself and set that wrong to right! Do whatever you want! It's no bullet out of my clip.

And then out of all the stuff that just bounces off the unemotional Kevlar of my hide, the last scene almost makes me cry. But then I think about how my father would probably backhand me and scream "Real men don't cry, you pussy baby!" and I pull myself together and do thirty push-ups while looking at raunchy heterosexual pornography while muttering, "Don't cry. Don't you cry, you baby! Crying is for dolls that you put water into and then push a button so they cry real tears and then you scream at them and say, 'I'll give you something to cry about!'"

This is the page that caused all the drama. Or trauma.

Constantine #23 Rating: +1 Ranking. One of the things I've always loved about John Constantine is the way he pisses on the idea of living nobly. Most of us, in our entire lifetime, will never have to make a decision between continuing to live at the expense of another person's life. And I don't mean making unethical business decisions where you gain something at the expense of others. I mean where you trade your own literal life for the literal life of another person. People talk about love and taking a bullet for another person because it's easy to believe those words. It's easy to want to think of yourself as a person who would sacrifice for the good of another even at the cost of your own life. And sometimes it happens but, if I had to guess, that's usually instinctive and at the spur of the moment and never once does the thought, "I'm going to die right now to save somebody," go through a person's mind. Give the person time to think about that decision and let's see what happens. Give them a week to decide to trade their life for somebody else's. Let rationalization take hold and you'll get quite a different result. We rationalize everything in our lives so that we seem to live an ethical, noble life. But isn't it funny how the way we live is exactly the way that fulfills most of our selfish desires? And you don't think making the decision to stay alive would be different somehow? It's the most important thing! And Constantine knows it and he shows it in every action he takes. Which is why I think this was a beautiful ending with Constantine toasting to life. What else is there?