All Star Western #17

Uh oh! Jonah Hex must have space madness!

I was under the impression that Stormwatch was going to be taking over as the main story but the cover is solid proof of my error. Fuck you, Cover! Who asked you anyway? Did you think I needed proof that I was fallible? Well, I didn't! I know I'm fallible! And by knowing I'm fallible, I think that makes me infallible! Didn't Buddha attest to that? Anyway, it might be a good thing. Like Beowulf in Swords of Sorcery, I'm hoping it'll just be enough to make it seem like the best story ever where it could easily overstay its welcome as the main story. Besides, Stormwatch already gets 20 pages of comic every month!

And so the story begins...

I think every American should try to acquaint themselves with how their family ended up here. And I'll judge those that can't figure it out somehow and stare down at them and shake my head and whisper, "No." Hmm. Apparently some of my ancestors had a gene for insanity.

I have a feeling my father's ancestors dealt with something akin to that panel. My dad's brother has done a lot of genealogical research and I have files and pictures but I've never delved into them as carefully as maybe I should. Believe it or not, I guess I'm just not that interested. I've just always been closer to my mom's family. My grandmother's mother, Dolores Ortega Correa Vega, and her parents left Malaga, Spain on April 10, 1913. They took a ship across the Atlantic and around Cape Horn to arrive in Hawaii (this was one year before the Panama Canal was finished). An arranged marriage was made between Dolores and Bartolo Gill so that Dolores's father could justify bringing another man to the New World to help earn and save money while working in the sugar cane fields in Hawaii. They were basically recruited via pamphlets sent to the Old World looking to bring more European workers into the sugar cane fields so that the Asians wouldn't get too uppity and start forming unions and shit. My fucking ancestors were brought in as union busters! Sort of. Not really. Maybe I'm too cynical.

Dolores's parents (my great, great grandparents) Ana Ortega Correa and Jose Vega Tirado with my Uncle Jerry in 1942. Thank you, Printer from the Early Nineties!

Here's an anonymous poem published in 1910 that describes the life my grandparents led:

The Five A.M. Whistle

"Awake! stir your bones! Rouse up!"
Shrieks the Five o'Clock Whistle.
"Don't dream you can nestle
For one more sweet nap.
Or your ear-drums I'll rap
With my steam-hammer tap
Till they burst.
Br-r-row-aw-i-e-ur-ur-rup!
Wake up! wake up! wake up! w-a-k-e-u-u-u-up!

Filipino and Japanee;
Porto Rican and Portugee;
Korean, Kanaka and Chinese;
Everybody whoever you be
On the whole plantation--
Wake up! wake up! wake up! w-a-k-e-u-u-u-up!

Luna and book-keeper;
Sugar boiler, store keeper;
Time-keeper, chemist;
Clerk and machinist;
Boss and Boss' Missus;
I proclaim this is
The hour to get up,
And eat a rice cup;
For I boss the Boss,
Same as man, mule and hoss,
And everything on the plantation,
I, the Sugar Mill Whistle!

Br-r-ow-aw-i-e-ur-ur-rup!
Get up! get up! get up! get up!
Mind the Five A.M. Whistle
The signal to hustle!"

Fuck me. No wonder I hate alarm clocks! My genetic memory is still rebelling from that bullshit! I think it's been around eight or nine years since I've used an alarm clock. If only my great grandparents could see me now! We're living the American Dream, Pana and Nana! I'm sure that's what I would have called them if I'd ever known them. I only knew my grandfather's mother although she probably went through the same experiences. I think she came over as a much younger child than my grandmother's mother.

Eventually my family struck it rich and became super fancy elitists. They baptized their children in champagne and threw diamonds to drive away stray dogs. When times in the middle of the country turned rough and dust storms ruled over everything, my grandparents watched the Okies drag their asses into the Bay Area looking for work. My ancestors would shit in their hands and throw it at the filthy refuse yelling, "Have you ever picked a Spanish Apple? Ha ha ha!" Eventually they came to own Santa Clara. They drove out all of the non-Spanish in a frenzy of national pride! Things were fairly peaceful until one day my grandfather gambled it all away on one throw of the dice with a wealthy white industrialist trick dice maker. Our family was ruined! They tucked their tails between their legs and retreated back into the one house they had been allowed to keep, quietly living out the rest of their days and lying to their grandchildren about the good old days.

Or something like that. I think I got most of the facts straight. Anyway that's enough super awesome history lessons for now. Let's see how things are progressing in Gotham.

Same old same old.

And so the story re-begins with Jonah Hex hunting a man into a quarantined section of the city filled with Cholera. The criminal in question seems vaguely familiar.

Oh Vandal Savage. Have you come to prepare the city for Stormwatch?! Or will Stormwatch come hunting you?

Would it surprise you, my loyal readers (and those random few who accidentally found this page while searching for porn), that this story has produced in me a level of exuberant joy heretofore unknown in the annals of mankind? Through the well-worked and bullseye'd tone of the Narrator to the fanciful and energetic art of Mr. Moritat (or is it simply, Moritat, Esquire?) to the simple joy and bravado of the pro-antagonist Vandal Savage, I am awash in majesty and splendour. Only a creature of the most vile and basest of humours would not admit to grinning at the erratic gesticulations of the monster Vandal Savage. He is a shallow creature that rides the waves of his prurient interests and he lives life as if he had nothing to lose. Which, I guess, technically speaking, he doesn't.

The stupid and incompetent are most able to revel in pure, exultant joy.

Alan Wayne casually confronts Vandal Savage and invites him to a private table upstairs so that he doesn't break Wayne's casino. Wayne does warn him that one of the regular players has a bit of a temper.

One of the things that makes this comic book so incredibly entertaining is the pacing. It has some superb beats and knows when a scene should end exactly and at what point in time the next scene should begin.

Hex leaves while warning Mrs. Wayne to keep an eye on Savage. Savage continues to charm Mrs. Wayne and very subtly threatens Alan Wayne with the loss of his casino and his wife. He doesn't really. But knowing Savage, the only reason he's being kind and charming right now is because he thinks, for whatever reason, that it will serve his purpose better than smashing skulls. What a magnificent dick! I believe this is the third appearance of Savage in The New 52 and he's been terrifically well-written in them all (Demon Knights, DC Universe Presents, and All Star Western. Am I missing any?).

While Savage went about Gotham making connections and "friends", the city continued to ignore the people in the Cholera Quarantine. But Catherine Wayne was desperate to help and delivered food supplies in secret. During one of these runs, she is pulled over the wall and kidnapped by the sickies. They hold her for ransom, demanding food and medical supplies in exchange for her safe return. This might be the reason Jonah Hex is sent into the Quarantine to kill everybody! He agrees but for a steep price: 30% of Alan Wayne's casino! Holy shit! Jonah Hex is going to start the Gotham City Mafia!

Things in the Quarantine section quickly get out of hand, leaving Hex and Arkham to run for their lives from the deranged and sick mob. What they find is not a bunch of people dying from starvation and cholera. What they find is some fucking 28 Days Later bullshit.

I'm sure the outbreak is Vandal Savage's fault. Or a raccoon's.

Hex and Arkham make their way toward the bank abandoned in the middle of the Cholera Outbreak. Hex believes it's the most defensible position against the rabid zombie cholera cannibals. Arkham just runs around shitting himself and questioning every move Hex makes. What they find inside the bank is no surprise: Vandal Savage. Apparently he realized during the Black Death that he has the ability to be a carrier of disease without succumbing to it. He brought this plague (Rabid Cholera?) to Gotham although his purpose is unclear as this issue ends. Perhaps just to sow chaos. Perhaps simply to fuck Catherine Wayne. Who can tell why a bored amoral immortal does anything?

That story was good enough to justify the $3.99 cover price and yet there remains to be read a 19th Century Stormwatch tale starring Jenny Freedom! Are you kidding me?! What a fantastic age we live in where we can get such voluminous entertainments for such negligible costs!

I'm not sure what year the Stormwatch story takes place but it's after the end of the civil war. Jenny Freedom is a long way removed from the overalls and pigtails shown in the single panel in Peter Milligan's Stormwatch. While I'm curious to see her fighting against oppression in the years before slavery ended, I'm just happy to get a look into her life with Stormwatch.

Currently Jenny is trying to stop Smokestack Jack from assassinating President Chester A. Arthur. Because Jenny has the power of steam, you can bet 19th Century Stormwatch is going to be full of steampunkery. While that could be fun, I guess I'm more interested in Jenny Freedom at the beginning of her career before she mastered her power of steam and electricity. I'm sure she began by just blasting people in the face with hot mist.

I guess she has to deal with mumbo jumbo as well!

Jenny engages Smokestack Jack with blades while her companion gets his entrails eaten by the mummies. Jenny is distracted for the briefest of moments as she resigns herself to not getting to fuck this man. She really is all about freedom! Go Jenny! Jack gets the upper hand and runs off to prepare his Electro-Boltacular-Mega-Blaster.

Of course Jenny Freedom stops him which causes his Electric-Assassinator to set his airship on fire. As the entire thing is about to explode, Jenny Freedom hops over the side to, um, freedom!

Chester A. Arthur was president from 1881 to 1885. As an American, of course I had to look that up. I also looked up the history of the parachute. The first parachute harness was developed in 1887 and packing and storing a parachute in a backpack was first invented in 1890. Apparently Jenny Freedom made these modifications to her parachute years earlier and was too busy to patent them.

After Jenny lands, she enters a pub to get a drink and smoke a pipe. And that's where it ends as she's approached by Adam who asks her if she'd like to come back to Stormwatch. He refers to her as Jenny Steam which is awesome because that's what I guessed the 19th Century Jenny would be called before I found out she was Jenny Freedom (which is much, much better than Jenny Steam!).

All Star Western #17 Rating: +1 Ranking. I enjoyed the Jenny Freedom comic but I felt it could have been so much more, so the back-up story is a wash. But the Jonah Hex story was, once again, tremendously entertaining. Bravo, Grey, Palmiotti, and Moritat. This may possibly be the most fun comic book in The New 52.