Bat-mite #6

Five issues ago, I thought I liked Bat-mite. Now I fucking hate this little fucker.

About thirteen years ago, I was hit by a car turning left in an intersection where I was crossing with the light. Here is an explanation from an assumed medical professional about what happens when somebody gets hit by a car:

When hit by a car, the vast majority of people are not run over; they are run under. The lower legs break, sending them into the air. They usually strike the hood of the car, often with the back of the head impacting the windshield, "starring" the windshield, possibly leaving a few hairs in the glass. They then go over the top of the car. They are still alive, although with broken legs, and maybe with head pain from the nonfatal windshield impact. They die when they hit the ground. They die from head injury.

I can physically attest to this statement being true even though those things did not happen to me. In my case, at the second or two before impact, I looked over my shoulder to see the car about to hit me. I have no memory about why I glanced over my shoulder. Maybe I heard the car. Maybe I saw the look of fear in a nearby squirrel's eyes. Perhaps God knew I still had comic books to make fun of. Whatever the case, I saw the car just before it struck me. I don't know the make of the car but it was one with the hood long low hood close to the ground. I jumped up just before impact which almost assuredly saved me from breaking my legs. The car hit my right calf, turning my body horizontal as I landed on the hood. I slid up the hood and impacted the windshield with my right shoulder. It wasn't my head because I made sure, even in that short space of time, that I hit with my shoulder. I was then launched into the air and to the side rather than over the top of the car. I helicoptered a few rotations and landed hard on my left hip. I instantly hopped up from the ground and ran in front of the car to make sure the person who hit me didn't make a break for it. A woman who had been stopped at the light near where I was hit told me she saw the whole thing and would be a witness if I needed one. I told her I was okay and would be fine but thanked her. The woman who hit me offered to take me to the hospital but I knew I was okay (okay, so a lot of people say they think they're okay when they're not after accidents like this and wind up dying from internal injuries. But I knew every place on my body that took impact (calf, shoulder, hip) and nothing felt any worse than after having played some tackle football (still, I suppose it would have been better to go to the hospital!)) and she offered to take me home instead. She gave me her card and made me promise to call her if I wound up needing any medical attention. I noticed my pants were torn at the calf where the bumper hit me and she gave me fifty dollars to buy some new pants. And that was it.

I have since learned to not trust signals and I constantly watch out for people turning left behind me now. So I'll probably get hit from some other direction next time. I hope the driver who hit me learned to not try to speed through a turn to beat other cars coming in the other direction so that she never has time to adjust for somebody suddenly appearing in her blind spot. I guess I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt that she wasn't being extremely careless or high on crack. I truly hope the lady who hit me did not go through months or years of worry, wondering when she might get a call from my lawyer or next-of-kin!

That had nothing to do with Bat-mite but I figure I won't have much to say about this issue because it's the final issue. It's not like I'll need to remember what was happening next month!

I don't think the order of the heads has any real significance. It would make more sense if the old jerk said, "And he made himself Washington!" But then I don't know that the sidekick response would be appropriate since Jefferson wasn't, technically, Washington's sidekick.

Bat-mite also turned the Washington Monument into an Aquaman themed water slide, the Statue of Liberty into Wonder Woman, and building a Green Lantern roller coaster in the Grand Canyon. I can't say I disagree with any of that. But--big surprise!--the old government guy doesn't like any of it. He also seems to think the Statue of Liberty is an American woman! He really is a spot-on caricature of government officials! Ha ha! He's an idiot!

Bat-mite also decided to give make-overs to some of the candidates running for president.

Pretty fuckin' sure Bernie already has the youth vote, Bat-mite. And Corin Howell didn't quite catch the awful What-The-Fuck going on with Trump's hair.

I'm sorry! Bernie has the youth vote for youths who actually think and act like youths instead of being little cloned young Republicans. Come on! Those kids aren't natural! They're just desperate for their parents' approval! Although I suppose they could also be a severe type of rebellion from hippie parents like Alex P. Keaton on Family Ties. Whatever the case, they're monstrosities! There will be many years to be grim, wear suits, and natter on and on about taxes! Go have fun! Get in trouble!

Although, let's face it. It's not like they're any less annoying than the Free Speech is a Tool of the Privileged and Causes Literal Harm cenobites who want to watch the world burn one Twitter account at a time!

Bat-mite's next project is President Obama. Although he only has seventeen pages to convince Obama that no matter how many additional people now have health care due to Obamacare, it's still a law that forces people to patronize evil corporations. At least with laws that demand car insurance, I can choose not to own a car and thus avoid patronizing car insurance companies. But I can't stop living! I mean, I can! But I don't want to! It's unethical to tell me I have to give money to corporations whose business is entirely shady and who have fucked up the entire healthcare system through their greed. I am not against universal healthcare! I'm all for universal healthcare! But it should be provided by the government through taxes. We all know you have the money, Mister President! It's just you've decided to use that money for killing and subjugating brown people. I guess that's fair.

While in DC, Bat-mite discovers that a senator named Hardgrave is actually Gridlock! So I guess they're going to be fighting again.

Or watching Galaxy Trek together.

Bat-mite sends Gridlock into the television show where he's happy because nothing ever changes! The end! Except for the other end where Bat-mite is forced to return to his own dimension. Instead of clapping and jumping for joy and jerking themselves off from pure bliss when they hear Bat-mite is leaving, Reagan and Weed weep like babies. Probably like girl babies. Unless girl babies are tougher than boy babies. I have to wonder. Has any scientist ever run an experiment where they had babies of various genders battle it out to find out which ones were the toughest?

Anyway, Bat-mite rejoins the Justice Mites of the Whatever Dimension so they can battle Canceltron. I hope he tears them apart, stupid cherubic-faced Mites.

Bat-mite #6 Rating: No change. Yay! I'm glad this series is over! Not because it was terrible (it wasn't. Not really. It had some interesting ideas and I liked it's defense of change in comic books). And not because I apparently can't stand Bat-mite (at least Bat-mite written by Dan Jurgens). But because it's one less comic book to read! And one less comic book to read is one less comic book to read!