Monday, March 6, 2017

Batman #17

Is Finch afraid that if he looks too closely at a male mouth for reference purposes, he might become gay?

You know that feeling when you've just finished writing a novel and printing it up so you delete the file on the computer so it can't be stolen and then go to your printer and get the pages and accidentally throw them in the wastebasket nearby that's still on fire? I hate that feeling.

I find myself checking in on Twitter far more than I ever have before since the election. Mostly because the few people I follow are liberal which means they know how to create funny jokes. It must suck to be a conservative if you like to laugh because mostly when you laugh at jokes conservatives like Huckabee tweet, you're only laughing because in that way that screams, "This isn't an actual physical reaction to something funny but an acknowledgment that I completely and utterly agree with the words you strung together in just the right kind of way that I could tell it was supposed to be a funny joke. Err, ha ha!" That's not to say all heathen liberal atheist monsters are funny! Here's a good example of the big fat colored-in part of the pie chart of Twitter (as opposed to the little splinter that represents people being creative and unique and hilarious):

"Hey! Look at this headline that makes a point! Now read my tweet where I restate the point, just in case you were too stupid to understand it. Although my restating of the point is almost exactly the same as the point in the headline so if you didn't understand that, I suppose you won't understand this tweet. So you're probably thinking, 'Why was this tweet needed?', right? Fuck you. I'm hilarious at hot takes that were already made!"

Anyway, that's most of Twitter. People tagging jokes by making the same joke yet less subtly. I'm not sure why people ever expand a tweet to read the replies because conversation on twitter is like going out to the dog park and comparing the taste of the various dog dirt you find lying in the grass.

You might be wondering, "Is this a review of Batman or Twitter?" If you are, you shouldn't limit your life experiences. Sometimes when you plan to do something and the plan falls apart because the person lied about the plans (like, say, you wanted to read a Batman #17 review and instead got a review of Twitter), you should not think, "Well, this is crap!" You should instead embrace this life detour and think, "The person who lied to me and wasted my time is probably a super cool person who has had so much sex, how can I be mad?"

Now that we've established my credentials of being super cool and having had so much sex I can hardly feel my crotch due to nerve damage, let's get to Batman!

When we last left Batman, he and Alfred had just walked into the Batcave where Dick, Damian, and the Dumb One were hanging by their necks with a three word message painted on their chests, one word on each dead kid: Am I Bane? So they're probably dead. This issue will probably start with a funeral but then it will turn out not to be the funeral of these dead Robins but the other one.

Nope. It doesn't begin that way at all. I guess I'm not as good at writing comic books as I am at playing Tracer on Overwatch. Lately when I play, I begin as McCree because come on! Gunfighter! Even if his ultimate almost always fails, the times it doesn't make me call my mother to tell her how much I probably love her (in theory). But if I'm doing poorly as McCree, I'll switch to Tracer and then the other team is all, "What the fuck just happened? What has changed? Why are we dying all the time?! Who let this lesbian punk rock maniac out of her cage?! And why won't she stop calling me a wanker when I die?!" Then they call their mother to tell her she's a fucking whore.

Oh! Sorry! This was supposed to be about Batman!

So, um, this issue begins in a hotel with Bronze Tiger ordering a shotgun blast to the stomach from Room Service. I wonder how much that set him back?

That's just some kind of prologue to get everybody's genital juices flowing. Maybe that was inappropriate to the people reading this blog who don't find violence sexually alluring. The real beginning (Oh! I just watched the fourth episode of Season Two's Little House on the Prairie and it was called "In the Big Inning". Get it?! So clever!) begins in the Fortress of Solitude (located either in the Arctic or the Antarctic, depending on which dumb writer is currently writing). Apparently Dick, Damian, and the Dumb One didn't die (just as I predicted! Who else would have predicted that? Not you dum-dum comic book readers!). They just lost consciousness which allowed Batman to fly them all up to the Fortress of Solitude where Superman has some cryogenic chambers lying around. He threw them all in and has now asked Batman to babysit them while he goes after Bane. Why would he call Superman? Wasn't Supergirl given the Fortress? Preboot Superman has his own Fortress in the Himalayas. Having three kids stuck in freezers will seriously hamper Supergirl's social life. How creepy will it be fucking that Ben kid in the Fortress with their dead faces staring at Supergirl's naked bum going up and down and up and down and maybe sideways? Do butts go sideways when people do it?

Alfred Pennyworth busies himself with Gotham Girl's therapy. Disguised as Jeremiah Arkham (who was recently shot in the face), he sneaks Gotham Girl into the most isolated wing of Arkham where Psycho Pirate is being kept. He has to keep her safe for the next four days while Batman hunts down Bane. Bane is Batman's most dangerous foe! At least for this story since Bane is the antagonist of this story. Next story arc, the most dangerous foe might be Penguin or Mad Hatter or Kite-man.

If not for his terrible ability to draw the lips of men, I would have forgotten David Finch was doing the art for this issue. But I would have quickly been reminded when I turned the page and discovered a double splash page of Batman on a rooftop saying, "I have mine." Mr. King and Mr. Finch, I would like to not commend you on your use of comic book pages. What was so dynamic about that shot of Batman that it needed to waste two full pages of story? He's simply brooding on a roof with a clock tower in the background. We've seen this shot millions of times in Batman comic books over the years. Making it larger doesn't make it more compelling.

Later, Room Service decides to head out of the hotel to shoot Catwoman.

What does Room Service have against characters with feline names? Jerko.

Room Service goes after Jim Gordon next. I don't get it. How is the name "Commissioner James Gordon" in any way catlike?

Because he doesn't have a cat name, James Gordon doesn't wind up getting shot. He shoots Room Service and Room Service's friends, Housekeeping and Night Clerk. With the help of Duke, Batman's unnamed sidekick (although people keep telling me his name is Lark because of a dumb vision in Batman #35. I refuse to call him Lark until he's actually called Lark because it's a dumb name that evokes a sense of flippancy that Batman would never allow), Gordon survives the onslaught. But then Bane crashes through the wall like the Kool-Aid man on bath salts and the scene ends.

The episode ends with Batman still hunched on the roof where he had his double splash appearance. Across the way, Bane is on another rooftop with all of his captives: gutshot Bronze Tiger, backshot Catwoman, severely beaten Commissioner Gordon, and was supposed to stay out of this Duke Thomas. I guess it's time for Batman to beat the shit out of Bane. Although, I suppose what this story has been hinting at, is that Bane is more dangerous suffering through the withdrawals of Venom (which, I guess, never end unless you have a Psycho Pirate to comfort you?) than he is on the drug. I don't know. I get that Bane broke Batman's back so he's supposed to be Batman's Doomsday. But to me, Bane is just as boring as Doomsday. He's a big, beefy beatdown machine and that's about it. I will admit, if you're going to argue because you're so in love with Bane that you probably pretend to suck his dick before falling asleep every night, that he has a little bit more character. He wears a luchador mask and is some kind of ethnic and, I suppose, he's also intelligent or something. Plus he has so many mental health issues because he was born inside a prison to somebody serving a life sentence which, apparently, means you have to live out the life sentence too. That's...well, I was going to say clever but that's the entirely wrong word, isn't it? It's not clever at all! It's the epitome of comic book nonsense! Like Dick Grayson driving a motorcycles straight up a wall! Doomsday's background of having been killed and reborn over and over again to make him immune to death is a more believable origin story!

The Ranking!
No change!

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