I put the word friend in quotation marks in the above caption because now that he's a Trump supporter and he believes in God, he's not really the same guy I grew up with. I still wouldn't mind calling him friend (even with the Trump supporting) except, being a God-loving Trump supporter, he now treats me and everything I say as if I'm just another libtard. He always referred to me as the smartest guy he knew but suddenly I'm deluded by the mainstream media and too naive to understand that I should be a racist gun owner. Once when he was twelve or so, he saw a woman on the bus reading The Bible. So he sat behind her muttering "Satan Satan Satan." Even at the time, I thought that was pretty immature. Just a few years ago on Facebook, he responded to something I said with "Guns guns guns!" I reminded him about the Satan thing and how he apparently hasn't matured a bit in his debate tactics. He misunderstood my point, thinking that I was wondering why he didn't go around chanting "Satan Satan Satan" anymore, and told me, "I've grown since then." By "grown," I guess he means "suffered severe PTSD and survivor's guilt from the roadside bomb that took the lives of four other guys and now I have to believe in utter nonsense or their deaths would be meaningless." He seems to believe that more war makes the deaths of his comrades meaningful when actually their lives would have more meaning if he accepted that they died for no reason. Use their deaths to prevent the deaths of more young men by pointing out they didn't need to die and then — and only then — you give their lives meaning! Sure, it's seemingly paradoxical but sending more men to die because you want the deaths of some people you knew to be meaningful is fucking selfish bullshit.
I don't know that the creators of this comic book know how the moon works.
The Creeper begins this issue complaining about jungle drums but not giving a shit that the moon has been full for four months straight. Now I sound like an asshole on Twitter screaming that people are too busy caring about one terrible moment of our finite existence that isn't the terrible moment of our finite existence that the asshole thinks they should be caring about. But I'm not! I don't care what The Creeper is upset about. I just want The Creeper to simply fucking notice how long the moon has been full. Then he can go back to speaking gibberish (both as The Creeper and as Jack Ryder, news reporter).
My local news did a segment on the large boulder/small boulder Tweet last night and if I had owned a gun, I swear to God I'd need a new television set this morning. No I wouldn't because after shooting my television, I would have turned the gun on myself.
When I "joke" about suicide, they're not jokes. I really don't fucking care anymore about dying. Not that I'd ever take myself out. But if something were to kill me at this point and I had one moment to type one more Tweet, it would be that shrugging whatever emoticon that uses the Katakana for tsu. Mostly I'd choose to make that Tweet before I died because it would take a long time for me to figure out how to type it. Death would be standing over my shoulder saying, "Come on already. Just Google the fucking thing and copy and paste it. I've got a bloody schedule here! Literally!" Then we'd high five and I'd ask him one more time if maybe I could suck his dick for a few more years.
My local news did a segment on the large boulder/small boulder Tweet last night and if I had owned a gun, I swear to God I'd need a new television set this morning. No I wouldn't because after shooting my television, I would have turned the gun on myself.
When I "joke" about suicide, they're not jokes. I really don't fucking care anymore about dying. Not that I'd ever take myself out. But if something were to kill me at this point and I had one moment to type one more Tweet, it would be that shrugging whatever emoticon that uses the Katakana for tsu. Mostly I'd choose to make that Tweet before I died because it would take a long time for me to figure out how to type it. Death would be standing over my shoulder saying, "Come on already. Just Google the fucking thing and copy and paste it. I've got a bloody schedule here! Literally!" Then we'd high five and I'd ask him one more time if maybe I could suck his dick for a few more years.
Ha ha ha! "It's funny because it's two guys going on a date," types the guy who just made a dick sucking joke.
To be fair, the worst part about my joke wasn't that it relied on homosexual sex. The worst part was that I assumed Death was male. But I had to! If I picture Death as female then I picture DC's version of Death. And if I picture me giving oral to DC's version of Death then I have to take a break to masturbate.
I'll be right back.
I get that my "comedy" seems crude and not very subtle. But that's because audiences only have the ability to read the surface layer of anything. They read the words and refuse to go any further. So my sucking Death's dick joke becomes simply a joke that relies on laughing at a man willing to perform a homosexual act. But what the joke is really about is how I just said I don't care about dying and yet I'm desperately willing to suck some bony supernatural hog to extend my life for a few more measly painful years. I suppose I could have come up with a less vulgar and demeaning punchline but we all understand that "sucking dick" is the last negotiating tactic to strike a deal that's almost certainly not going to happen. It's never the go-to! Which seems odd because I'd accept that offer immediately over a lot of other offers when negotiating! If I were selling a house and somebody offered me 400,000 dick sucks instead of 400,000 dollars, I don't know. I might take that offer!
By the way, I am not selling a house, you horny, shelter-lacking perverts.
Bruce Gordon and his friend go to New York to try to recruit the Justice League in their fight against Eclipso.
I'll be right back.
I get that my "comedy" seems crude and not very subtle. But that's because audiences only have the ability to read the surface layer of anything. They read the words and refuse to go any further. So my sucking Death's dick joke becomes simply a joke that relies on laughing at a man willing to perform a homosexual act. But what the joke is really about is how I just said I don't care about dying and yet I'm desperately willing to suck some bony supernatural hog to extend my life for a few more measly painful years. I suppose I could have come up with a less vulgar and demeaning punchline but we all understand that "sucking dick" is the last negotiating tactic to strike a deal that's almost certainly not going to happen. It's never the go-to! Which seems odd because I'd accept that offer immediately over a lot of other offers when negotiating! If I were selling a house and somebody offered me 400,000 dick sucks instead of 400,000 dollars, I don't know. I might take that offer!
By the way, I am not selling a house, you horny, shelter-lacking perverts.
Bruce Gordon and his friend go to New York to try to recruit the Justice League in their fight against Eclipso.
Most wars are started because some guy doesn't want to be thought of as a pathetic little man. Guy is a hero!
Guy Gardner is being the responsible one in the above scan, if a little high-strung. Obviously the Justice League isn't going to invade a sovereign country just because somebody who isn't Madame Xanadu told them to. Especially the guy that, in the past, was inextricably linked to Eclipso and his evil acts! I bet this scene is just the tail end of the conversation. Guy was almost certainly peaceful and compassionate while listening to Bruce's complaints. But Bruce probably kept pushing and pushing! "You have to believe my gut instinct and my hunch! I just know Eclipso has taken over Parador! You must invade!" And Guy, the avatar of patience, finally snapped. Poor Guy! He's always being treated so horrifically.
Bruce and his friend (I have no fucking idea who she is. I suppose I should know but I didn't reread The Darkness Within annual event before rereading this) decide to approach Sarge Steel for help. He runs Checkmate or the Suicide Squad or the DEO or something.
Bruce and his friend (I have no fucking idea who she is. I suppose I should know but I didn't reread The Darkness Within annual event before rereading this) decide to approach Sarge Steel for help. He runs Checkmate or the Suicide Squad or the DEO or something.
Why is Bruce so terrified about a disruption in cocaine distribution? Isn't Eclipso less of a menace as a drug lord than a vengeance god?
Sarge Steel directs Bruce and Mona (her name is Mona! I still don't know who she is) to Amanda Waller. She operates the arm of the government that infiltrates and disrupts other countries for the benefit of the United States. No, not the CIA. The Suicide Squad!
Meanwhile, Eclipso is busying cutting the fingers off of Mona's father's hands.
Meanwhile, Eclipso is busying cutting the fingers off of Mona's father's hands.
Either Simon Bennet has eleven fingers or one of those digits is his penis.
Amanda Waller offers to help Bruce, Mona, and the Creeper sneak into Parador. But that's her only involvement. To help them sneak in through a series of caves, she recruits Cave Carson to be their guide. Did Cave Carson seem expendable in 1993? I hope so because his death is the only thing making me excited for the next issue!
Eclipso #3 Rating: C+. At least something other than monologues and soliloquies happened this issue, like Simon getting his fingers and dick chopped off. Plus this issue had so many guest stars: Sarge Steel, Amanda Waller, Guy Gardner, and Cave Carson! That's a lot of cameos for a buck twenty-five! Thank God for DC screwing creators out of "created by" royalties! Can you imagine how much this comic would cost if DC felt obliged to pay France Herron and Bruno Premiani for using Cave Carson, let alone Bob Haney and Lee Elias for Eclipso, Gil Kane and John Broome for Guy Gardner, John Ostrander, Len Wein, and John Byrne for Amanda Waller, and Steve Ditko, Pat Masuli, and Joe Gill for Sarge Steel?!
Eclipso #3 Rating: C+. At least something other than monologues and soliloquies happened this issue, like Simon getting his fingers and dick chopped off. Plus this issue had so many guest stars: Sarge Steel, Amanda Waller, Guy Gardner, and Cave Carson! That's a lot of cameos for a buck twenty-five! Thank God for DC screwing creators out of "created by" royalties! Can you imagine how much this comic would cost if DC felt obliged to pay France Herron and Bruno Premiani for using Cave Carson, let alone Bob Haney and Lee Elias for Eclipso, Gil Kane and John Broome for Guy Gardner, John Ostrander, Len Wein, and John Byrne for Amanda Waller, and Steve Ditko, Pat Masuli, and Joe Gill for Sarge Steel?!
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