Sunday, March 29, 2015

Trinity of Sin #6

The Question asked "Who am I?" one too many fucking times.

I just rewatched the first half of Season 7 of Mad Men in preparation for the second half of Season 7 beginning next week. It's possible that episode 7, "Waterloo," made me tear up more times for different plot points than any other show or movie I've watched. I'm sure I've cried more over other things but not for so many different reasons. I mean, every time I cried during The Fox and the Hound was due to society trying to bully the individual into giving up their individuality and act as irrationally as everybody else simply because that's the way society has always done it. Fuck you, Farmer! Just allow your hound to be gay in peace already!

Now it's time to consume a piece of media that will make me feel nothing at all! Good job, Trinity of Sin! I know my emotions will remain at a level state for the next two hours!

It doesn't take me two hours to read one comic book. But it usually takes me two hours to read and write about the comic book I'm reading, especially since I'm doing it on the internet and look at all the fun distractions on the internet that are more interesting than Trinity Sin! Also porn!

Oh Pandora. Go suck a cock.

Here's what I've learned about being broken: most people don't know when they are. They get chipped and dented and dinged and cracked by dozens and dozens of tiny, daily traumas. These are the sorts of "traumas" which if told to even the best of friends may elicit not much more than an eyeroll. They're the kinds of things that we're told, from an early age, are just part of life. They're the reasons we're assured that life isn't fair. Enough people seem to accept them so everybody else is told to accept them as well. And the underlying message of that, of "life isn't fair," is that nobody should ever try to make it so. Enh, what can we do? It's just life! And it's not fair! So buck up, fill out your resume properly, get a job you fucking hate, and deal with it, hound. And so eventually we don't even realize we're broken and, at least to ourselves, worthless until it's too late.

I don't think the breaking is that bad. That's a sign that you're in danger. But being told that a little glue will fix it is the problem. By focusing on how a broken person needs to get put back together to be accepted back into society, we ignore the real problem of how society broke the person in the first place. When we glue the vase because some asshole was playing ball in the house, that doesn't fix the problem of the asshole who is still playing ball in the house. You want to stop planes being driven into the ground by broken people? Well, I can't help you with that. It's a side-effect of the life everybody seems to want to live. And life isn't fair.

Okay, I'm back to reading the comic book and I should apologize for telling Pandora to go suck a cock because she's not the Narrator. The Narrator hasn't been identified yet but it's probably Doctor Thirteen or the transexual angel. I forget hir name. Zauriel! (Um, thanks Lord Google! Fuck you, brain. You idiot.)

The Trinity are currently prisoners of Venna the Triple-Faced Queen of Dark World. Apparently Quackers was just Venna's John the Baptist and now it's time for her to lose her head. Mostly because she did such a good job of bringing back the Dark World that everybody in the Dark World think that it had never fallen. So nobody is going to pin a medal on Quackers' chest. That's too bad for Quackers the Cosmic Duck. I thought she was going places.

The Trinity of Sin are down and out and everything is going wrong but then they eat their spinach!

Duh duh duh DUN DUN DUN! Duh duh duh duh DUN DUN DUN!

While the Trinity make muscles with cartoons of warships in them, I should talk about what I've learned about darkness! No matter how benevolent and enlightened a person thinks they are, they're still full of incredible darkness. At times, it's hard to see from within. We want what we want so badly that often we ignore the price that other people pay in order for our own desires to be fulfilled. I would love to believe that as a person ages they grow less likely to commit atrocities (of varying degree! I am using the word lightly. We're not all committing genocide on a weekly basis) but then I've seen what rich old white men think of other people. It's horrific. And look at how much "evil" (I put it in quotes because, again, I'm using the word lightly. I don't mean some all-consuming dark entity pulling the strings of puppet people that have yet to find Jesus. In fact, I'm about to accuse a whole lot of Jesus lovers in acting evil!) is being perpetrated by the self-labeled religious set. They're simply using their religion to attain their own selfish desires. They don't want to accept money from gay people so they hide behind some ambiguous texts (texts with many, many other ambiguous rules that they don't even bother to follow or even probably know about) to defend their assholery. People will go to great lengths to convince themselves that they're not being mean-spirited dickmonsters.

Hey! Here's an idea! How about the United States Government begin printing two separate sets of currency. Make half of it pink and the other half green. Then these asshole people that don't want to accept gay patrons can stay away from all gay money! Then the rest of us can stick to using pink money (of course, we'll use green when it's given to us as change. Whatever. We're not the bigots! I don't think. Maybe I am! But I'm only really against those asshole foxes trying to befriend all of our hounds. No wait. That's exactly the opposite what I said earlier. Nevermind). Let's see how quickly they start accepting gay money when the pink currency begins gaining value over the green currency.

The Trinity of Sin realize during their fight against Quackers and Venna that they'd have to absorb all of the darkness of Dark Earth. Then they'd have to live with darkness and sin in their hearts! They'd have a real reason to be the Trinity of Sin instead of the stupid reason where they were convicted by a bunch of old wizards for crimes they didn't even commit or couldn't even remember. Then they got to walk around for thousands of years going, "Why the fuck am I being punished again? Curiosity? Helping a friend accomplish his goals? Who am I?" Now they'll get to walk around thinking, "I saved the world!" And while they were walking around thinking that, people will spit on them and call them evil whores.

Earth is regained and Quackers is transformed back into Nimraa.

Nimraa sounds like my old high school friend Soy Rakelson after attending college for a bit. "What the?! Things aren't just black and white? All this gray is bullshit! I'm going to go back to the comfort of my C.S. Lewis books now."

Nimraa leaves a magic sword behind which The Phantom Stranger ultimately claims without any debate on the subject of ownership. The Question steals the darkness from Pandora and The Phantom Stranger and ditches them. Pandora...I don't know. She goes back to her relationship with a baby?

The magic sword was the one that held Doctor Thirteen's soul. So, and this is so obvious I shouldn't even mention it, stabbing him in the chest with it restored his soul and brought him back to life. It's like regaining your memory by smashing your head into a ceiling beam! Total medical fact. And Doctor Thirteen admits to being the Narrator. But then we already knew that, didn't we, readers who pay attention even when they want to be doing something else?

The issue ends with The Question disappearing in a puff of question marks. Then the book says, "The end...?" Yes the end! Just put a fucking period on that statement, you assholes! Enough with your Trinity of Sin garbage! The next time The Question appears, he or she had better have a fucking good reason for it! And since that next time is soon with Greg Rucka writing it, I'm going to guess that there will be!

Trinity of Sin #6 Rating: No change. See that, Trinity? That's called a gift! Merry Whatever! Here's your no change in ranking even though your comic book didn't have a point! Don't let the pellets from my shotgun hit you in the ass on the way out the door!

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