Batman and Robin Eternal #26

Hooray! Four less comics to buy in April!

Rating: Well that's that! Don't let the bat-door hit you on the way out! I don't have much more to say than my irreverent comments that follow except maybe this: Dick should have become Batman at the end of this. I think it's time for a better, younger, tighter-assed (literally not metaphorically!) Batman! Batman, with his memory intact, could have passed the cowl to Dick and gone back to Julie Madison and the community center. That could have become a new comic book, something like Box Office Poison where it just relies on people and their relationships rather than crazy Gotham villains murdering innocents. Bruce could have fired Alfred for being such a dick while Bruce had amnesia which could begin another comic book series where Alfred spirals into darkness until he gets a job playing the organ at the local roller rink. I wonder if DC would give me a job writing that comic book? The other comic book that should have come out of this series is the one starring Harper, Cullen, Stephanie, and Cassandra and has a theme song similar to The Facts of Life.

• Harper remembers a moment with her mother that probably never really happened the way Harper remembers it. I don't remember ever having a touching moment like that with either of my parents! Parents don't say loving, intimate, hopeful shit like that, do they? DO THEY?!

• Instead of killing Cassandra like nobody but Dick Grayson and Mother thought Harper might do, Harper throws the knife into Mother's machinery and disrupts Operation Make Teenagers Worse Than They Already Are.

• Harper kicks Mother's ass while telling Mother "You don't know me!" Fucking Shakespearean, man! That wasn't sarcastic. You've seen Romeo and Juliet, right? It's basically three hours of "You don't know me!"

• Fucking Loot Crate advertisement. How about I spend money on things I actually want instead of paying a monthly subscription to experience the slightest amount of excitement by opening a present full of the same shit thousands of other people are also opening so that they can be unique specimens of geekdom. I should start Grunion Guy Box! For a small fee, I'll send you some of my extra crap I have lying around the house that I don't fucking care about anymore! Some old Magic cards! A painted ceramic van! An old digital camera! A Badtz-Maru paper organizer!

• The good guys think they've won. But then Mother gets the upper hand! But then the good guys get the upper hand! But then Mother gets the upper hand! But then the good guys get the other hand! But then...you know what? It probably goes on like this for a few more pages before the good guys ultimately get the upper hand and win the day. How about we just assume that's the case and move right on to the denouement?

• I know Midnighter is gay but I think he and Catwoman would make a cute couple. Maybe they can use Catman as a third party male-to-female connector?

• Mother goes all Bond villain and destroys her headquarters by flooding it with lava. I know that's not the denouement but it's practically the end of the back and forth. All that's left is for Cassandra to beat Mother's ass without killing her and everybody will nod in tandem, understanding exactly what that means. I would say what it means because I totally know but I don't want to spoil the learning experience of other people who haven't figured it out yet.

• Dick is robbed of humiliating Mother by putting her through the American judicial system because Orphan comes back from being dead to kill Mother.

• See? I knew the denouement would be good. Too bad DC thinks the action parts are the best parts of the comic book. This book should have been less end battle and more after battle celebration.

• The story gets an epilogue with Harper and Batman. It's about time Batman got a non-flashback moment in this comic book! You would have thought he was dead or something.

• Harper tells Batman that her life is her own life. Isn't that what Batman was trying to tell her from the beginning?

• Harper decides to go to college instead of being a super hero. Isn't that what Batman wanted for her from the beginning?

• I don't think Harper realizes what a gift Batman gave her. By not taking her on as a sidekick, he allowed her to make her own choices. Even when she still chose to be a sidekick. Which he allowed her to do because it was her choice. And now she's choosing to give it up for awhile. Basically she's been living her life the way she chose. Just like Batman always wanted for her from the beginning.

• Cassandra takes the name Orphan and becomes a member of the Bat-family.

• Even Batman needs somebody to tell him he did the right thing now and then. What a needy bitch.

• Batman gives Dick a verbal hug and a pound of Warm Fuzzies. What is this? Earth-Not-Main Earth? Whichever Earth is the one where Batman can talk about his feelings?

• Batman and Robins jump off the building to go fight crime. And Batman doesn't even have to remind Red Hood not to kill anybody! The end!

Batman and Robin Eternal #25

I hope when I bleed out on the street someday, my blood will spill out in the shape of a dick and balls.

Rating: Rank 11 of 51 DC Comics. I guess. I can't wait for rebirth so I can change this whole system of ranking DC's comic books against each other. Mostly I can't tell anymore what books are better than others because so many of them are bland and mediocre. I should just have three categories without rankings. They can be comic books worth reading because they're written well, comic books pretty much only worth reading if you're into the title character, and comic books worth reading if you love train wrecks. This one probably falls slightly in-between written well and reading if you're into the Bat-kids. It's hard to really judge a weekly comic book on its writing merits because the writers change so often.

• I just reread my bullet points on Batman and Robin Eternal #24 to get caught up before reading this issue and found about a dozen typos. So you should probably expect the same kind of quality writing this time too!

• At the end of the last issue, Harper was thinking over Mother's offer to kill Cassandra and I was rolling my eyes so hard that I could hear a clicking sound in my head.

• The battle to bring down the towers receiving Mother's Icthys Virus has been going on for way too long because this comic book has to go 26 issues. So, you know, it's still happening.

• Dick and Azrael don't so much fight as philosophize. It's the same old bullshit about whether or not killing the person destroying the world is right or wrong. Is a country's arbitrary justice system a better way to go than just putting the person threatening the world in the ground? It seems like a shaky argument to make but since comic book heroes have to measure up to some kind of code, the "no killing" thing seems to be a decent measuring stick. It's just that it's so Jesusy! The only reason not to kill somebody like, say, The Joker is because by killing them, you're killing their chance at redemption. But what if The Joker has never shown any sign of redemption? Ever? How many times do you allow him to return to killing innocent people? When does Batman become responsible for all of the people The Joker kills because Batman keeps insisting that The Joker not be killed? I realize that Batman will never, ultimately, be responsible for The Joker's victims. The Joker makes the decision to kill and Batman makes the decision not to kill. There's a scene in the new season of Daredevil where The Punisher gives Daredevil a gun. Then The Punisher points a gun at some scuzzball hitman and tells Daredevil that if Daredevil doesn't kill The Punisher before The Punisher kills the hitman then Daredevil is responsible for the hitman's death. That's obviously bullshit because everybody is ultimately the choices they make. Daredevil choosing not to kill even if somebody else is going to be killed doesn't make Daredevil responsible for the person who gets killed. But let's say The Pnnisher has lined up hundreds of people and is killing them one after the other while Daredevil has a chance to kill The Punisher. At what point does Daredevil become complicit in the murders of the hundreds of people? After the first killing? The second? The thirty-first? At some point, a person has to realize that their ability to say "I have never killed anybody" is the only thing they're really protecting. The argument should never be so black and white that Batman or Daredevil or Dick Grayson can say they will never kill. You've got to allow for extreme situations that arise where killing somebody will absolutely make for the greater good. Although in Batman's case, I think if he ever kills anybody, he's going to get a taste for it! So he should probably just keep Red Hood's phone number close at hand and let him do any killing that needs to be done.

• Let's not be so hasty! Why should Azrael choose Batman's terms, hunh? And what if the terms he thinks through and chooses just happen to be similar to Mother's? Is that truly wrong?

• Mother continues to badger Harper about killing Cassandra. I'm not sure why she thinks her arguments will sway Harper since they're all really arguments for Harper to save Cassandra! I guess maybe Mother's arrogance is blinding her to reality. It's like when somebody on Facebook tells a story that's meant to show how big of a jerk somebody they dealt with that day was but it actually reveals how much of an asshole they themselves are? It's like one of Robert Browning's dramatic monologues! But not as subtle.

• Cullen Row uses Midnighter's Door technology to transport to Midnighter all of the mini-orphans battling the Bat-family. You know, so Midnighter can kick their asses.

• While Mother and Harper argue inside her base and Dick and Azrael argue outside Mother's base, Mother's Icthys infected children all over the world are finally cured by the Bat-family with Midnighter and Cullen's help. Also the other heroes who aren't technically part of the Bat-family. Like Black Canary and Katana and Red Hood.

• Dick finally reaches Mother so he can stop her without killing her. I think he just likes sending criminals through the bureaucracy and humiliation of the American justice system.

• Next issue is the final issue, right? Please be right.

Batman and Robin Eternal #24

Is this the issue where Azrael is not just killed but wiped out of DC Continuity completely and forever?!

Rating: No change. When Rebirth happens, I'm going to change my ratings system! I'm going to be like everybody else and say things like, "8 out of 10 erect phalluses! The writer used dozens of different words, the artist's characters were all easily differentiated from one another (you know. Like in the way Charlie Adlard or Steve Dillon's characters aren't!), and the colorist really used a lot of colors!"

• Bullet points are really fucking useful!

• If this were a business, I would be super succeeding based on my new ability to use bullet points!

• Since last time I used bullet points, I've realized that I'm not typing in German so the noun "bullet points" does not need to be capitalized.

• Is "bullet" part of the noun "bullet points" or just the adjective describing what kind of amazing business points I'm making? I assume they're called bullet points because they're fucking killer.

• Robin has hardly appeared at all in this story which seems weird for a comic book calling itself "Batman and Robin Eternal."

• • • Does using three bullet points indicate an extra important bullet point or is it a kind of bullet point ellipsis?

• This issue is called "All Out" so I'm assuming DC has finally decided to make all of their characters gay. They might lose a lot of older fans who will tell you to your face that they're not being homophobic but respecting traditional comic book storytelling while they'll gain a lot of younger fans who will torrent all of their shit because why the fuck not?

• I could actually tell you why the fuck not in this bullet point but nobody who torrents shit is reading this because it's both a wall of text and not something that they should have had to pay for and are now getting for free. If it's free to start with, why fucking bother?

• Oh! I bet I can answer that question too! But nobody wants to hear what another white heterosexual male thinks except for the white heterosexual male thinking the things. I know I'm super interested in the things I'm going to be thinking about Batman and Robin Eternal #24! I can't wait until I finally start thinking them!

You're beating on children all over the world! I think Mother has already won! Hell, "beating on" would be compassionate! Red Hood is fucking shooting them!

• Twelve cities around the world are being taken over by children. One of those cities, Tokyo, has fallen! I bet it's because the kids got their courage up by drinking beers out of vending machines on the street. Can you imagine if cities in America had beer in vending machines?! Those machines would be in the backs of teenagers' pick-up trucks all over the country!

This is a fitting image because there's a graveyard just across the street from Tokyo Tower. I climbed the wall to get pictures! Japanese people pretended they didn't see because seeing somebody break the rules is practically breaking the rules yourself.

This is it! I think! Maybe I should have labeled my pics from Asia.

• The Bat-family members are finally shutting down the Icthys receivers because the series is almost over.

• It's kind of a big joke that Midnighter isn't getting to beat up on little kids because he has to man the communication center. But for a kid who was abused and experimented on, I'm fairly certain he doesn't want to beat up a bunch of innocent kids being manipulated by Mother.

• I probably should have been more cynical with my last bullet point. I don't want to get a reputation for taking comic books seriously.

• My downstairs neighbor seems to be learning to play the ukulele. I suppose it's better than practicing being a DJ. Barely.

• To prepare the world to be strong enough to survive a massacre, Mother massacres the world so they'll be strong enough to survive a massacre. I don't think Mother has truly thought her plan through.

• Mother tries to convince Harper to cut her ties and become the weapon she was meant to be. Does Mother know about Harper's brother Cullen? If so, she wouldn't trust that she's turning Harper to her side. I think Harper might be kicking Mother's ass soon.

• How satisfying is the phrase "kicking Mother's ass" to you? No? Just me?

• Azrael arrives and commands Dick to join his side. Dick should join Azrael's side because they both want the same thing but I won't blame Dick if he chooses not to join Azrael. I wouldn't join Azrael if he offered me one million blow jobs. I mean dollars. I'd probably join for the blow jobs.

• I'd rather get a hand job than a blow job because I like to imagine my own hands beating me off. Oh wait. That's just masturbating. That's what I like.

• Dick wants Mother in a courtroom. Azrael wants mother in a coffin. So I guess they don't want the same thing.

• Mother sends out a super ninja orphan to fight each member of the Bat-family. Midnighter sends Spoiler to Tokyo because she's the most like Sailor Moon. Except in purple. So Sailor Saturn, I guess.

When I was in high school, I dreamed about this kind of armpit to vagina contact with females!

• Mother offers Cassandra up to Harper to kill. How much of a genius can Mother truly be if she thinks Harper is going to murder a helpless Cassandra instead of turning the blade on Mother? I suppose this is where that whole pride comes before a fall nonsense comes in.

• A lot of people have serious doubts about Batman Loves Superman: Dawn of Just Us because--let's face it--it looks ridiculous. But you know the moment in the preview when I rolled my eyes and made the wanking off gesture? When Lex Luthor does the voice over about power corrupting. Aren't writers tired of using the same old fucking cliches in everything they write? Here's a twist: sometimes power doesn't corrupt! You know why it usually seems to corrupt? Because, generally, only corrupt assholes seek power! People who aren't corrupt? Couldn't give a fuck about being powerful.

Okay, I want you to admit it if you're the one person who actually finds this moment tense! We all know what's going to fucking happen here! Harper is going to free Cassandra and they're going to go in the corner and fingerbang.

Batman and Robin Eternal #23

Rating: +1 Ranking.

This issue had two pieces of dialogue that made me laugh out loud. Both were delivered by Midnighter and directed at Dick Grayson. So it's obvious to me that we now need a monthly Midnighter Loves Dick book.

The main problem I'm currently having with this story (which is to say I'm ignoring all of the other previous main problems I've had with it) is that kids in twelve cities across the globe have, presumably, just murdered all of their parents. And if they have yet to murder anybody (which we should probably assume or else we're accepting a pretty major failure state from our heroes), the way to stop them is by sending exactly one hero to each of these cities to battle hundreds or thousands of children.

Okay, fine. The main thing the heroes are supposed to do is disable the receivers picking up the Somnus transmission. But they're doing it by way of punching a bunch of children in the face, if I'm to believe Midnighter's monitors.

You know what? Let's forget the possible holes in this plan and the horrible loss of life that has probably already occurred and let me ask this: who else is already thinking of Cullen as Midnighter's sidekick? I suggest the name "Past-His-Bedtime Boy".

Batman and Robin Eternal #22

The Robins only care about restoring Batman's memory because he hasn't paid allowance for six months.

I don't normally post on Facebook because I'm way too facetious for most of my family. Every now and then, I'll post something on a whim. Like today I posted this: "Since I don't currently have a child, pet, or meal to photograph, I'll just say God doesn't exist. Enjoy!" People who aren't instantly butthurt by the idea that an atheist has a right to express their viewpoint just like Christians might possibly get the joke. People post lighthearted shit on Facebook and it's generally of the same few topics. I didn't have a picture of any of those, so I said God doesn't exist and asked people to enjoy my share. Even if I don't believe in God, it's obviously a fucking joke, right? "I don't have any bullshit to share so here's something heavy as fuck!" I mean, I don't think declaring God doesn't exist is heavy but, well, you know. It's Facebook! Anyway, my aunt follows up with this:

Shirt Boy is just a nickname for my deceased cat Judas. She knows he's dead. Now she thinks it's cute to use his loss to testify about God and heaven! But what the fuck is up with those emoticons?! Is she laughing about my dead friend?! Those better be tears of sorrow, bitch! I'm calling the emoticon a bitch and not my Aunt! Maybe!

The Non-Certified Spouse decided to take the question literally and explain that Judas is nowhere because he's dead. Also he's not with any God. He's just dead. He's in the backyard under a statue garden I set up which includes some Sailor Moon figures. So my Aunt continues her kindhearted Christian line of questioning.

Holy shit, Melva! Slow your roll!

I had typed out "Yes, he's currently sucking the devil's cock while being raped by demons." But then I deleted it because I already started some shit I didn't mean to start by being lighthearted and facetious in the first place. Some might not think a statement about sucking Satan's cock and being raped by demons is lighthearted. Which is why I sometimes get into this small scale bullshit on Facebook. It's one of the reasons I rarely respond to people because they're all so fucking serious about everything! I don't even mind she said my beloved friend of fifteen years is in hell! Because it's silly. I know exactly where he is! I wonder if I should dig him up for a picture and post it to Melva's wall? "Heeeeeeeeeere's Shirtboy!"

Being too serious about everything is super lame! And yes, person whose going to call me out for using the word because they need to feel some kind of power in their meager lives, I mean "lame" in the ableist way and not in the modern way which in no way is meant to be a slight against people like Donald Blake! He's so fucking lame he can't even tell Jane Foster he loves her! I mean, maybe he can and has already. I have never read a modern Marvel comic book about Thor!

Time to take seriously a comic book about a bunch of kids who think a psycho with a bat fetish is their dad!

Ooh! Genevieve Valentine is scripting this issue! Be still my aching penis!

The Robins are having a tough time figuring out where to begin to stop Mother's plans. But Dick Grayson has an idea!

Damian had to say "Grayson" because saying "Dick" here would have been to ambiguous.

It's time for Damian to tell all of the Robins about how much of a gigantic pusshole Batman really was! I bet Damian once walked into him weeping over family pictures of all of his children and mumbling through a snot waterfall, "I love you all! You're all so special in your own ways and cock sizes! But for some idiotic reason that I can't comprehend because it feels like some jerkoff editors are controlling my life, I can never tell them how much they all mean to me!"

I was close with my "special in your own ways and cock sizes" prediction.

Damian pulls out his cock and shows the others it's bigger than all of theirs combined. Metaphorically! Don't be disgusting! He's just a little boy! Eugh. Why would you even think I meant that literally, you perv?!

While the Robins come up with a plan that's better than "Let's give up!", Mother activates the Ichthys Protocol. Or Subroutine. Or Virus. Whatever. She turns on the satellite that will make all of the children of the world into her soldiers. Or dead. Or, I suppose, not her soldiers and not dead. I mean, Jason Todd fought against Ichthys. I'm sure a few other random kids will too. But they won't be important to the story so I probably shouldn't have even mentioned them!

Batman and Robin Eternal #22 Rating: +2 Ranking. That Plus Two was absolutely earned because of Genevieve's script and the scene with Damian and Bruce. I'm so sick of angry, psychotic, grim Bruce Wayne! That moment was the truest Batman I've ever read! Okay, that was hyperbole. Maybe I should have said, "That was the truest Batman I can remember reading!" That's better because I really don't remember much of what I read. What a waste of life, right?! Why do I even bother if I only retain about ten percent of any media I consume! I'm such an idiot! I couldn't even spell "idiot" right the first time I typed it! I'm the worst!

No. Wait. My aunt is the worst!

Batman and Robin Eternal #21

Tony S. Daniel hits on a way to make a young girl not look like an older woman who he's drawing like a young girl: tomboy her up!

Rating: No change.

This is the issue that says things that have already been said in lots of other comic books in other places. Once again, a Batman villain has gone through the same kinds of things that young Bruce Wayne went through but--surprise, surprise!--they turned into a jerk! But Mother gets to parallel Batman maybe even more than most of the others because she went the Batman route and began training young people traumatized by life to follow in her footsteps. So now the mirror can be held up to Batman's sidekicks so that readers can stop pointing out how awful putting children in danger is and they can go, "Oh! Batman is doing the right thing! Um, at least compated to what Mother is doing!"

The Harper Row aspect of the story just seems like somebody spoke up in an editorial meeting and asked, "Why is Batman so adverse to training Harper Row when he's taken in so many other kid sidekicks? Sexist!" But now we see why he kept turning her away! Because he was trying to deny that Mother had any influence on Harper's life at all. He was also trying to do to Harper what Alfred has been doing to Bruce in the recent issues of Batman. Deny them their destiny just so that they can be boring prats! Or something. I might have gotten the point of it all wrong.

I'm just about to the "A Lonely Place of Dying" in the 80s New Titans comic books but I won't be reading it. Too bad because it would be interesting to reflect on Batman and his sidekicks through the lens of that story. The reason I won't be reading it is complicated and...well, okay it's not complicated but I'm not going to go into it here so it'll seem more mysterious and less boring than it really is.

Batman and Robin Eternal #20

Dick wins the orgy! Obviously.

Rating: No change.

I have this recurring dream where I'm at an all-girl school for young assassins and I'm also young so it's not creepy because dreams are what they are. They all want to have sex with me and they keep tickling me which is weird because I actually would like to have sex and not to be tickled. But I'm wearing sweat pants and I'm overly concerned about getting an erection because I guess my dream self is an idiot and thinks it'd be embarrassing if all the girls who wanted to have sex with me saw I was physically excited about it. But the tickling quickly becomes girls just trying to grab my cock through my sweats. At this point, I really just have a super strong urge to pee and the young women attacking me are just getting on my nerves. At about that point, I wake up with a full bladder and feeling really annoyed at my dream self for not getting laid.

Maybe that wasn't a recurring dream but then why should I tell you the parts of my stories that are false? I did have some of that dream last night for real though. It's just I added the all-girl school assassin thing for some reason I can't think of at the moment. It was just one woman and I don't remember if she was somebody I knew or probably just Gillian Anderson.

One time when I was in my teens, I was at the ice skating rink and this girl with large breasts kept hanging on the back of me. I was wearing sweats which meant that I wasted most of my money to ice skate because I had to sit down the entire time. It was totally worth it. I think she even joked about going outside in the bushes with me but I couldn't stand up without everybody in the rink knowing that I really, really wanted to be in the bushes with her. I think maybe the embarrassment of other people knowing I was physically aroused kept me from a lot of super awesome sexy time action when I was younger. Stupid inhibitions! Why should I have cared what anybody thought?! I could have gotten a handy in a bush outside the mall!

Sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be reviewing comic books.

Batman and Robin Eternal #19

Girl school gone wild.

Rating: -2 Ranking.

Girl school gone wild. Did you read when I wrote that part? Well that's all I have to say about this issue! Okay, that's a lie. As anybody who has read anything I've written about comic books in the last four and a half years knows, I always have too much to say about everything. So the other thing I have to say about this issue is the best part about it was the callbacks to Grayson. But that wasn't enough to make this an interesting issue of Batman and Robin Eternal. I didn't subtract two rankings because this was a bad comic book. I subtracted two rankings because I hate when weeklies throw in an issue that doesn't really advance the plot or add to the story. This issue exists simply to reveal the Spyral satellite and to get from Point A to Point Harper Trying To Kill Cass.

My favorite part was the part that won't be acknowledged and possibly didn't happen. It's the part where Dr. Netz took Tim Drake into the supply closet to fuck him while he was loopy on Fear Gas.

Batman and Robin Eternal #18

This fight is still going on? It's been going on for eighteen issues!

Rating: No change. Next issue will be better because the girls of St. Hadrians School For Hot and Horny Spy Girls have gone off the deep end.

And the revelation is finally revealed long after everybody already guessed the revelation! Harper Row was supposed to be Batman's greatest ever sidekick! And Batman knew about it. No wonder he kept shining her off whenever she tried to be his partner. Because he didn't want Mother's plan for Harper to come to fruition. He thought he was protecting her from a destiny that she wasn't meant to have! Except she was destined to have that destiny because it became destined! Or whatever.

So now that Harper knows her new best friend Casserole murdered her mother, what will she do next? I bet she asks Cassie to finish the job and kill her father too! Then maybe they'll kiss for nineteen pages.

It's almost time for Bruce Wayne to get back in the bat costume and put an end to these teenagers running around playing grown-up! Then he'll be all, "Look! You're all Robin! Chill out and shit! Also I'm a changed man! All that time fucking Julie Madison made me a better person! I promise you all more hugs! Let's do this shit!"

Batman and Robin Eternal #17

B-A-T-M-A-N-I-N-C-A-I-R-O!

Rating: No change. Surprise, surprise! Guess what it took seventeen issues to get the reader to say, "Doi!" Batman didn't shoot a kid's parents that night in Cairo! What a twist! I'm still shaking off the shock of that revelation! I'm all like, "How could a comic book portray an event so inaccurately? Why would comic book creators want to fool me into believing something that would never, ever fucking happen in the whole history of the fucking canon DC Youniverse had happened?! Do they hate me? Are they purposefully fucking with my mind? Am I stupid enough to keep giving them my money so they can pretend to tell me a story that is shocking beyond belief only to eventually get around to sort of muttering under their breath, 'Oh, um, yeah, about that. I sort of, you know, lied.' Bastards!"

I guess I'm supposed to be on the edge of my seat about future revelations like how Cassandra was supposed to kill Harper's parents or how Jean-Paul Valley is a huge disappointment to the readers. I mean to Mother. Maybe we can just get to the final page where Dick hugs Bruce before they go into the Batcave to touch tips.

Batman and Robin Eternal #16

It's filler time!

Rating: No change. Did something happen in this issue? I don't think anything happened in this issue. You were probably supposed to realize that this issue didn't matter when the credits page was layed out differently than all the previous ones.

I mean, of course stuff happened! It's called hyperbole! It's a way of saying "Nothing happened that I fucking cared about and so the issue wasn't important to me and by saying that nothing at all happened, I intellectually justify my personal lack of connection with the material!" If you're a Jason Todd fan because you're a horrible person with some kind of mother complex who needs to cradle him against your bosom and squeeze the cares into him, you might appreciate a plot-oriented reason for him to change his ways. Or maybe you hate that because you like him being a pathetic, lost, unloved dickhole? Whatever the case, I guess it doesn't matter since, at the end of the day, we all have to suffer through DC's decision to back Scott Lobdell's version of Jason Todd. I really do feel sorry for Jason Todd fans! I feel even sorrier for Jason Todd fans that actually think Lobdell is doing a good job! Although I won't make fun of them because it's never cool to make fun of people with obvious traumatic brain injuries.

Jean-Paul Valley didn't die this issue so that's another negative comment on the story. Stupid Valley. I hate him.

Batman and Robin Eternal #15

Great! A battle between two of my least favorite characters!

I'm going to try something different because I'm still trying to organize my 2016 writing life. Current Patrons of my Patreon will probably want to read this bit because it pertains most to them: I'm going to return to doing all of my commentaries for free. But they will remain on Patreon as a place where people can choose to support me or not. You probably didn't see it but that "not" was infused with all kinds of judgy side-eye! Ha ha! No, no! Just kidding in the way I always kid which is not really but I don't want everybody to feel uncomfortable so I'm laughing awkwardly now and rushing to the kitchen to get hors-d'oeuvres (when will I ever learn how to spell that word?! Christ! I use it enough in all of my catering fanfic). I'll figure out a way to reward monthly contributors although do I actually have the capability of producing something that somebody would consider a "reward"? Probably not. The main reason I'm doing this is because I love writing commentary on comic books. I also love to be paid for them. But I do so many that I need to stop stressing over how spectacularly awesome every one turns out since I know people are paying to read them. If people are just paying because they know putting some coins in the hat as they pass by my emaciated and shivering and not drunk at all body (well, not too drunk) is just the right thing to do then I don't mind pumping out a bunch of shit commentaries just to fucking knock down this ever growing pile of to-be-read comic books!

One thing contributors will get will be copies of my cribbage role-playing game, cRPGe!, when I finally finish it. And, after finishing the introductory book and module, they'll receive any other modules for free as well. Everybody else will have to pay for them via Kindle or some weird website that does PDFs on demand or--and this isn't actually going to be an option so why am I saying it--printed up and sent out by my own hands! Ugh. That sounds awful. Why do people put themselves in positions where they have to do things that don't involve sex, food, or video games?

This is the place where I put the "Keep reading" link which will send you to the Patreon page to finish reading the now free commentaries. Unless you're already on Patreon. Then you'll just continue to the next paragraph without any interruptions.

Keep Reading

Batman and Robin Eternal #14

Fish mouth. Left Batleg way too fucking long. Weird, incomprehensible smoke wafting out of an object. Just enough style and competency for Fangenders to rave about it. Must be a David Finch cover.

The internet is so full of free shit that nobody should be surprised when people feel entitled to it all for free. So I'd like to thank the people who are supporting me for doing something which I love to do but really can't see doing for much longer if it doesn't provide income. I guess I spend a lot of time playing Call of Duty and masturbating for free but I'm uncomfortable turning those hobbies into revenues sources. For one, I'd really have to bone up on my trash talk on Call of Duty. I suppose all the things I say to myself after masturbating would work! "You suck! You're garbage! You should just kill yourself, you pathetic, lustful, hellbound monster!" Well, most of it would work.

Anyway, the reason I decided to use Patreon for revenue was because most sites probably won't mind me criticizing a comic book but they might think twice about me criticizing a writer's mother's vagina and the writer's father's malformed penis (the writer I'm talking about knows who he is). The other option which most people use is advertising. Fuck advertising. For one of the few really popular sites on the web, I could see advertising working just fine. They could pick and choose who they want to advertise with them. They'd have total control. But as small blog on the web, I feel like I wouldn't have enough control over the ads that would appear on the site. Besides, Google wouldn't let me use their advertising service because, apparently, their advertisers don't want to show up on sites that are adult. I'm not using "adult" as a euphemism for "porn." I mean "adult" as in writing that speaks frankly about things adults talk about. And by "adults" in that last sentence, I mean "most likely non-American adults because American adults are fucking prudish, childish grownups."

I'd still like to provide my "reviews" for free but it's a compromise I have to make so that people who pay get something more than people who don't pay. Because I prefer receiving one dollar over a bunch of likes and reblogs. What kind of capital is that?! What is the exchange rate on reblogs?

When this site began, it was mostly to get me writing daily and to help me remember the comic books (and to get more out of them than a quick ten minute read and done). Then I thought maybe I could build an audience for when I write something real. Then I realized I was writing something real a couple times a day every single day and it was how I wanted to spend my time writing. So now I'm asking for money. It may or may not be internet blasphemy but it's the choice I've made. You'd think it would be supported when you see the hundreds of thousands of reblogs on posts about how artists should get paid for their art. But, of course, those are reblogged by people who don't actually want to be the ones paying for the art they want to consume; they're by people who want businesses to pay for the art that they want to consume for free. You know what? Fuck those shits. Although here's a free Batman and Robin Eternal review for them (and everybody else!) to enjoy!

Keep reading

Batman and Robin Eternal #13

I wish I had a mark of Cain!

Who doesn't want a mark of Cain?! If I'd had a brother, I would have totally murdered him so that I would fall under God's protection too! Lucky Cain! Not only was Cain given God's protection, he was also driven out from under God's sight so that he didn't have to worship him! So he got out of going to church too! And that's just the beginning of the gifts Cain got! Cain was also "cursed" to not be able to do farm work! I wonder how many people you have to kill to be cursed to not have to do any labor at all?! Can I just declare that I did something so bad that I'm cursed even worse than Cain the way Lamech did?! "Oh shit! I totally took God's name in vain like a billion times! I'm cursed seventy-thousand fold more times than Cain. Now I need to go on disability!"

Maybe the assumptions I just made about The Bible are part of the reason the church didn't want any old stupid piece of shit peasant reading and interpreting it on their own. How angry must the church have been at John Wycliffe when he first translated the Latin into English and they began hearing the same stupid questions from ignorant dolts over and over again. Questions like "Where did Cain's wife come from if it wasn't totally his sister and since I haven't read Leviticus all the way through because--let's face it, guys--it's ficken boring, it's totally okay to bang my sister because it had to have been Cain's sister, right? Can you give me an answer quickly because the tip is almost in and I don't want to go to hell in...oh god yes it was worth it!" Also "How angry must the church have been at John Wycliffe?" is totally a question that can be answered because they were this angry at him: 44 years after Wycliffe died, the Pope ordered his bones dug up, crushed into powder, and tossed in a river. You might be thinking, "Holy shit! That's horrible!" But look at it from the church's point of view: now people like me are reading The Bible and pointing out how silly it is. I would never have taken the time to learn Latin just to make fun of The Bible!

Too bad for the Church (capital "C" because it's the one that killed millions to keep itself all powerful. We know which one that one is, right? *huge manga wink*), desecrating Wycliffe's body wasn't warning enough for the many people over the following centuries who continued his work of making The Bible accessible to the masses. It's a long list of people banished, excommunicated, burned at the stake, martyred, and discredited in an effort to keep people from realizing that the story of Abraham and Sarah scamming Pharaoh out of his donkeys in Egypt was repeated at least two more times but in different places and with Isaac and Rebecca as the con-artists. Oh, they were also trying to keep people from knowing a lot more than that! The things in Genesis that make no sense according to Church Doctrine is just the tip of the conspiracy. The part I'm most angry about is where Onan's sin is said to be attributed to spilling his seed on the ground when the real issue is that he broke a contract. Isn't that always the way though? Let the corruption of big business off the hook while blaming the few and simple pleasures of the common people.

I should find some illustrated Bible comics and do commentaries on those! That would be fun! Until then, maybe I should stick to Batman and Robin.

Cassandra Cain begins this issue by reprogramming an ARGUS spy plane to fly over Mother's nursery, stowing away aboard it, and then bailing out when it flies over a Russian pit to Hell. The ARGUS pilots recognize the pit because James Tynion IV was all, "I once heard about how a Russian diamond mine dug too deep and let loose Durin's Bane which killed them all but not before one of them recorded the sounds of the damned because the pit reached Hell unless that was a totally different thing but anyway I'm going to mention it in a comic book because it's so fucking cool, Scott!" And Scott Snyder was all, "Mmmpphhh-ffumffle-mmmbble-fummfffle!" I don't know what that means because Google Translate doesn't have an option to translate "James Tynion's Dick In Your Mouth" into English.

I kid! I know Scott Snyder is a happily married heterosexual who only spent a small fraction of his life dressing up as Disney characters and hanging out in the men's showers at Disneyworld. Besides, if I was really being serious, it would have been James Tynion IV sucking Scott Snyder's dick because Snyder is the one that was hired by DC for his ability and it was James who was hired because of whose dick he knew.

I hope Snyder and Tynion never read this! Or if they do, I hope they have as good a sense of humor as Sterling Gates and not as poor a sense of humor as Cullen Bunn.

Oh! Pictures! I should distract everybody with pictures after that doubly horrible start to a comic book review!

Is Mother supposed to be an accurate representation of all mothers because she's almost exactly like my own!

This is the part where everybody has to forgive me for all of the horrible things I constantly say because they realize I was raised by a horribly manipulative woman who constantly showered love upon every child around her except her own! That's why my heart is a shriveled piece of turkey jerky! Unless it's like that because of all the horror movies I watched and horror books I read and all those things I hid under the front porch.

Oh! Look at this! I don't know which one to rub my dick on first!

You've got to think that after nine seasons and two movies, maybe the truth isn't fucking out there after all, hmm?

What the fuck is television trying to do to me?! I don't have this much time! I'm going to have to give up comic books if television is going to spend this much time turning them into shows.

Cassandra Cain has come to save Mother's children before they're all purged in the move. While she runs about, she remembers learning how to hug a person. She hugs The Sculptor who is appalled because Cassandra wasn't made for hugs. That's Wonder Woman bullshit. At that moment, The Sculptor should have known that Cassandra wasn't right for The Orphan's project. I would be better suited because I not only hate hugs, I also hate shaking hands and nearly every other form of human contact ever invented by humans who, for some reason, need more themselves!

Cassandra does not find any children. But she does find her father, The Orphan! He's got a new bionic arm and possibly a new foot since Harper mentioned he'd lost his leg even though that was probably just her misremembering what happened because the writer of that script didn't really fucking care about the comics written by the other writers.

Cassandra is captured and dumped in a pit full of the corpses of Mother's murdered children. So I was totally wrong that the comic book wouldn't lie to me last week and try to make me believe something that wasn't true! I totally and completely fell for it and super believed that Cassandra had just murdered all of the children! How could I be so dumb?! How could anybody be that dumb as to believe that Cassandra had killed the children or that Batman had murdered some kid's parents?! I mean, who am I? Dick Grayson?

The Orphan reminds Cassandra that the death of these children is on her shoulders because she left Mother and ran to tell Batman. But Batman was too busy battling The Joker so he had to give his Batgum to Cassandra to give to Dick if he died. Which he kind of did. But first he had a message of hope for Cassandra that ended with this vile act.

Ugh! Batman is so fucking touchy-feely!

Cassandra attacks The Orphan but before she can prove to him that she's a better fighter, Dick and Harper show up to help out. Cassandra hugs Harper because she's weak and then a hologram of Mother appears to set up the cliffhanger ending!

Look at it this way, Orphan. You've now earned a chance to redeem yourself now that Mother's betrayed you! Die with the thermonuclear device as you delay it long enough for your daughter to escape and we'll all pretend that the murder of thousands of children and their parents can be forgiven!

Batman and Robin Eternal #13 Rating: No change. I'll say this about this weekly in comparison to the Batman Eternal weekly: at least each week seems to be giving up a piece of the story. Batman Eternal was all about red herrings and rungs in some bad guy ladder leading up to Lincoln March (or, um, the actual villain who wasn't Lincoln March if you haven't read it yet and don't want it spoiled. It was totally somebody else and not Cluemaster at all). It's been a bit of origin overload the last few weeks but at least it all has to do with the main plot of Mother trying to take over the world and Batman trying to beat her by pretending to order a personalized Robin and Cassandra being at the center of it all. And now as I say that, next week will probably be an issue where Alfred deals with getting Titus neutered.

This has been a free taste of my wonderful reviews! This one is free to, you know, try to get people interested in spending one dollar per month to read the rest of my commentaries. As ConfusionGrows said once about some comic book I actually quite liked for some reason (probably because I was on Vicodin): “If Tessatechaitea says this much good about a comic it must have something going for it.” I think the subtext of that is that I'm usually a huge asshole. If you’d like to support me and maybe get me to offer even more freebies (sure, why should you pay when other people will get them for free? Probably because you’re a totally terrific and swell person!), please head on over to Patreon and sign up for one dollar (or more!) per month. It’s totally worth it for the email notifications of new posts alone!

Batman and Robin Eternal #12

This cover disturbs me even if that isn't an erection in Batman's pants.

In Batman Eternal, Snyder, Tynion, and Company spent way too many issues not answering the questions that readers wanted answered. I forget most of the questions everybody was desperate to know the answer to but I know one of them was "Who is behind it all because it's obviously not Cluemaster and if it is fuck you?!" They spent fifty issues beating around the bush before answering that question! I've heard that Batman and Robin Eternal is only going to be 26 issues so isn't it about time that they reveal who Mother built to be the best Robin ever?! I don't think there are any other questions than that because we all know Batman didn't actually requisition a Robin because he as unhappy with Dick but because he was trying to stop Mother. And we all know that Batman didn't really kill the parents of that girl in Egypt because Batman doesn't know how to shoot a gun. I suppose some readers might also be wondering why Harper Row is so important to the mystery but I didn't want to bring that up because I can't answer that question and can't make a joke about it. Not that I can't think of some funny ways to make Bluebird sound irrelevant! I totally can! But who wants to piss off all the Harper Row fans?! I pissed off a Voodoo fan once and a Wildstorm fan once and a Twat Lobo fan once (or twice (or three times)) and a Deathstork fan once and a Batman fan once and some Marcus To fans once and Cullen Bunn once and I really didn't like having to pretend that they didn't hurt my feelings when they Internet Screamed at me.

This issue begins where the last issue left off which can't last long, can it? Isn't the format of the weekly comic to forget about the characters who were in the spotlight the week before to concentrate on characters you don't give a fuck about only to begin giving a fuck about them by the end of the issue so that you can be pissed the week following when the story has changed direction yet again?! Not that I'm complaining because last issue left off with Dick about to discover the identity of Mother's Made-to-order Robin, if his Spyral tech didn't wind up killing him and The Sculptor during the Mindshare.

Whoops!

Dick and The Sculptor wind up chasing each other through a mash-up of both of their thoughts. I'm going to put my Monkees playlist on Shuffle while I read this wacky chase scene. Some of you might prefer "Yakkity Sax" or something from Scooby Doo. I bet there's a scene where they're in a hallway with a bunch of doors and they run in some and out others and then Frankenstein will pop out of one and Dick will come out in a towel and then The Sculptor will come out chased by feral dogs.

Before getting to the bit where somebody just fucking tells me who the mystery Mothered Robin is, The Sculptor tells her origin story which is also the origin story of Mother's organization. In the beginning, there was Mother. Then Mother created David Cain. Then she created a helpmeet for David Cain and that was The Sculptor. David's job was to kill the families of the selected youths, to orphan them and bring them into Mother's organization. The Sculptor used her telepathic powers to shape the minds of the children so they could become the products Mother needed them to become. Then they trained and did all of that other crap that evil leagues do. The children grew up and were sold or placed into positions of power or simply let loose to be called upon when needed. Mother's children were everywhere. And still are.

After Sculptor explains Mother's business model, she gives Dick the knowledge to find Mother. And then she finally gets around to the important bit about Batman's purchase!

Oh boy! Here it comes!

Or does it? I mean, do I really believe I'm going to turn the page to discover the name of the ultimate Robin that Batman purchased so long ago? If I had to guess, it coincides with the question I couldn't answer earlier. It must be Harper Row. Perhaps that's why Batman tried so hard to dissuade her from being Robin. He wanted to give her as much of a chance as possible to escape Mother's plans for her. Sure, she'd have to be really young at the time but building a proper Robin takes years! This might also answer the question about Batman murdering the Egyptian couple. He probably had to prove himself in some way so he faked up that incident and had Wayne Enterprise build an android Egyptian child that he could present to Mother as the child he orphaned! Is that too much to believe even for a comic book?

Batman does agree to kill so that he can be at the birth of his Robin. Dick earnestly believes he's watching Batman buying into Mother's scheme because Dick is obviously a stupid asshole.

Of course there can be no other explanation at all! Batman murdered because Dick was an incompetent little shit. The end!

Dick breaks the connection believing that Batman is a cold blooded killer as opposed to believing that everybody who would have these memories truly believes Batman is a cold blooded killer. Unless Dick is pretending to believe these things in the same way that Batman pretended to be working with Mother so that if The Sculptor were setting him up, she would truly think he was falling for it! That sounds more reasonable! That's what I choose to believe because I know Dick better than to believe he believes what the comic wants me to believe he believes!

Meanwhile, Cassandra Cain totally just murdered all of the children in Mother's Nursery because I saw all the circumstantial evidence pointing to her as the killer and there can be no other explanation at all! She's a monster!

Batman and Robin Eternal #12 Rating: No change. So that's it then! Batman is a murdering prick! No need to read any more issues because it's been settled and who wants to read any more stories about a guy who murders people but then tells other people not to murder people. He might as well be a politician! Unless, of course, Batman didn't actually kill that family in Egypt. No, no. It's patently obvious by the way the story was told that it happened and the narrative isn't manipulating me into thinking something is true that isn't. That would be dishonest! So I guess I won't be reading anymore Batman comic books! Instead I'm just going to read Punisher comics and draw little pointy ears on his head and a bat symbol on his chest and write "BATMAN" over "The Punisher" on the cover.

This has been a free taste of my wonderful reviews! This one is free to, you know, try to get people interested in spending one dollar per month to read the rest of my commentaries. As Collin Kelly (co-writer of Batman Eternal) said about my Batman and Robin Eternal #10 Review: “'It’s like mainlining the I Ching while slamming your dick in The Exegesis of Philip K. Dick.' This review forever.” The mainlining the I Ching part was from my review and he was quoting me and now I'm quoting him quoting me. So don't be too confused by that part. If you’d like to support me and maybe get me to offer even more freebies (sure, why should you pay when other people will get them for free? Probably because you’re a totally terrific and swell person!), please head on over to Patreon and sign up for one dollar (or more!) per month. It’s totally worth it for the email notifications of new posts alone!

Batman and Robin Eternal #11

Cover by Brendan McCarthy if he were doing a Saturday Morning Cartoon.

I know the cover isn't by Brendan McCarthy. It's only a pale reminiscence of a memory of a shade of something McCarthy could put together. That doesn't mean I don't like it, Guillem. Don't start fucking getting quiet on me because you think I'm insulting your work. Buck up, Hasbro. That's my new nickname for everybody: Hasbro. I've just decided on it.

Harper and Dick have just met a woman named The Sculptor in David Cain's house. She apparently wanted to be found but if I were a supervillain and a hero walked into my home, I'd also be all, "Oh! Hey! You finally figured out where I live! Took you long enough! I left so many clues! Gosh, you must be a dum-dum!" Then I'd call the police and have them arrested for trespassing. But The Sculptor seems to really have wanted to be found. She works for Mother but she seems to think it's time Mother is stopped. I guess Mother isn't increasing salaries to cover inflation. If only every worker would turn against their employers when conditions weren't as satisfactory as we all know they should be! Stupid workers who have to work because they're in debt, have a mortgage, and need to take care of their kids! Who falls for those obvious traps set up by a capitalist system?! Idiots, that's who!

The Sculptor does a "mindshare" with Bluebird to pass on the information they need to find Mother so they can keep Mother from destroying her inventory because it can all lead back to her. By the way, her inventory is made up of children.

In the Mindshare, Harper learns Cassandra Cain's origin story. She was raised without speech. She was not spoken to and thus never learned to speak herself. Look, this is a fucking comic book, okay?! Nobody's trying to convince us that science and experience rule here! Obviously even without somebody speaking to her, she'd have made noises! David probably taught her not to make noises by punishing her for every noise she made. Which brings us to the next inconceivable part of her upbringing! The theory was that by not speaking to her, Cassandra would learn to communicate through body language. Presumably that is what happened. But since the only body she was reading in the whole time she was growing up was her father's, the only language she actually learned was that of her father's body language. When I took a speech class in college, the question came up at the end of the course if we felt more comfortable with public speaking. My answer was that I wasn't more comfortable speaking in public at all; I was just more comfortable speaking in front of that particular group of people who I'd come to know over the semester! Cassandra's method of reading people wouldn't work at all once she met a second person who wasn't a complete fucking sociopath.

Now that I got the rant over, I'm just going to go with it and buy into the story. Cassie Cain is remarkable at reading body language and can always guess what a person is about to do well before they do it.

So now she knows two body language phrases: "I'm a gigantic asshole" and "Please don't kill me I don't want to die!" Technically that's three phrases.

Cassandra becomes the best fighter in the world even though she didn't spend years traveling around the world learning from all of the masters of every style ever invented. What I'm trying to say is that she hasn't gone up against Batman yet! That might be in this origin story though because Batman had to encounter her in the past at some point to give her that pack of Batgum that started this whole story.

David Cain presents Cassandra to Mother to show her that he can sculpt children better than The Sculptor. Mother isn't so keen on his method.

Oh, so I guess she understands some language! Unless she heard his body language from behind her.

After The Orphan is chastised by Mother, Harper is taken to a memory of Cassandra in Gotham where Cassandra slits a woman's throat. But Cassandra cries after so that makes up for it. I mean, it doesn't but it allows the reader to feel sympathy for Cassandra because she obviously doesn't want to kill but she was raised to kill and now she's just as much a victim as the woman whose throat she cut. Sort of. I mean, she's not dead or anything so she's not really "as much a victim" as the dead woman. But all the right things were said about her past to make people feel sorry for her and want to hug her and forgive her for murdering the woman who they know nothing about but who was probably a corporate CEO cheating her employees so fuck her.

Harper's last image in the Mindshare is of Batman confirming his purchase of a new Robin. Dick yanks her out of the Mindshare before she can see the new Robin so now Dick has to risk doing the Mindshare himself. He just can't let it go, can he? So Batman wanted a better Robin?! So what! He obviously couldn't find a better one because look at what he wound up with after Dick left? Jason and Tim! The only way to get a better Robin was to ejaculate into a condom and not throw it away somewhere where Talia al Ghul wouldn't have access to it!

The issue ends with Dick and The Sculptor tumbling into a Mindshare fucked up by Dick's Spyral technology. It just teases us with the identity of Batman's purchased Robin! It just pulls its underwear most of the way down its completely shaved pubis so that the top of its turgid member pokes out of its underwear and expects us to just sit there and not shove anything down our throats! Now I just have to spend all week bluebrained with this unrevealed knowledge?! Jerks!

Batman and Robin Eternal #11 Rating: No change. This was The New 52 Origin Story of Cassandra Cain and not much else. She was abused but it made her the greatest fighter in the world so it was probably worth it. I mean, of course it wasn't worth it and I'm crying my eyes out here and not rolling them at all! I suppose if I had some sort of Nanny Complex or weird Munchhausen By Fictional Proxy Syndrome, I'd be all into Cassie as my new favorite character. Also I used MBFPS incorrectly simply because I wanted to use it. I'm writing these words and I'll manipulate them in any way I want! Also if you thought it sounded right, forget what I just said because I was lying and it totally works in context.

This has been a free taste of my wonderful reviews! This one is free to, you know, try to get people interested in spending one dollar per month to read the rest of my commentaries. As Gail Simone says about my site: “As always, Tessatechaitea’s article is really, really funny, but also makes some serious points I haven’t yet seen in other reviews. Go read!” She might not have been saying that about this review in particular but I'd like to think she thought the cock tease bit was a serious point. If you’d like to support me and maybe get me to offer even more freebies (sure, why should you pay when other people will get them for free? Probably because you’re a totally terrific and swell person!), please head on over to Patreon and sign up for one dollar (or more!) per month. It’s totally worth it for the email notifications of new posts alone!

Batman and Robin Eternal #10

Batman died seven years ago?!

Azrael showed up at the end of last issue. Azrael. Goddamned fucking Azrael. I'm going to swear a little more now because Azrael showed up. Fucking bullshit. Fucking Goddamned fucking pussy cock asshole fucking fuck fuck bullshit motherfucker fuck!

Although! And this is the "although" that has kept me optimistic for a comic book that I can get through without putting my head through a wall! You can tell because I put an exclamation after it and then wrote all of this other garbage explaining why it's such a great although! Although, it's almost a one hundred percent certainty that this Azrael is not Jean-Paul Valley! It's actually Jean-Paul Valley who I hate with the very core of my hate-generator which makes up most of my being. I'm okay with Azrael. I can come to terms with Azrael. But if that fucking smarmy Danny Chase Cousin Oliver Scrappy Doo fucking Jean-Paul Valley winds up being the guy behind the flaming sword, I swear to Christ--Yes! To Christ!--I will mail Tynion and Snyder a letter comprised of three pages full of the word fuck. Is that too aggressive? I think it might not actually properly convey my true feelings! But it's about as much action as I'm willing to take before I simply get bored and move on to other things.

I'm lying. I'm already too bored with the idea even if it does wind up being Jean-Paul Valley. Maybe I can pay the neighbor kid to compose and send the letter.

One thing is certain: this Azrael is smarter than 99% of Bane's previous opponents.

I realize that most of Bane's opponents, due to the length of the planned story, are never allowed to cut off his supply of venom until the climactic moment. Still, it's nice to see that it's Azrael's first move. Bane might want to consider wearing more than a tank top so that he can hide the tanks and the obvious method of venom delivery.

I've reconsidered. I hate Azrael no matter who it is.

Bane is converted by "the wrath of a secret god" while Jason and Tim run off to hack a computer or something.

The computer they've come to hack is called the Gnosis Aionios so I'm pretty sure it's Philip K. Dick's. Because Jason Todd is out of bullets and I guess he's no good at hand-to-hand fighting in this issue, he's in charge of hacking the computer while Tim Drake battles monks and yells out hacking instructions.

Excuse me while I grab my stationary to take next door so I can teach the neighbor kid Alex how to spell "fuck".

Hopefully Jean-Paul Valley was the kid designed to be Batman's perfect Robin. He would be a great asset to the Bat-family! Everybody needs a fucking Andy or Olivia to liven up an old show and to illustrate how the original members of the television family were actually likeable.

Now that everybody's day has been ruined because the name "Jean-Paul Valley" has appeared in The New 52 (Convergence doesn't count!), it's time for a flashback!

You've got to admit, Dick, you really aren't not any of those things.

Batman decides to speak with Mother about getting a better Robin because he once beat the shit out of another kid in second grade. It makes more sense if you're reading the comic book instead of just reading this bullshit of mine. Although you know reading DC Comics that you'll never have any erotic or racy bits which is probably why you're reading this. You just can't wait until I write some more Harley Quinn masturbation fan fiction, can you? I could have linked to the masturbation fan-fic but I figure if you're interested, you know how to work the internet.

The flashback makes it seem like Robin stormed off so Batman decided to ask Mother for a new Robin. But he has a hole in him when Robin storms off and he's just fine in the scene with Mother. So it's probably a flashback in a flashback where Batman has already made the deal with Mother and he's just getting back now after realizing how much danger Dick is in.

Back in the present, Tim and Jason decide to confront Jean-Paul.

Jean-Paul Valley is starting to grow on me. He reminds me of Philip K. Dick. Except for the murasame bit.

In the old computer game, Wizardry, there was a Murasame Blade. It could have been in Knight of Diamonds or Legacy of Llylgamyn; I can't rightly recall. I just wanted to mention that because those were the days when you couldn't just hop on the computer to find out what the hell that meant. In Legacy of Llylgamyn, you could find a Butterfly Knife. I had no idea what that actually looked like until my friend Sal purchased one because he thought he was a fucking ninja. I mean, he was closer to a ninja than anybody I knew. But Cheech and Chong never did a ninja movie so nobody would have believed in a Mexican ninja.

By grabbing Tim's face, Azrael imparts some kind of self-gnosis into Tim's brain. It's like mainlining the I Ching while slamming your dick in The Exegesis of Philip K. Dick. It had the power to subdue Bane and now Tim is drunk on it. But Jason Todd has the cure!

Okay, that's not so much a cure as a reprieve.

Jason and Tim jump out of the church and swim back to Gotham.

Meanwhile, Dick and Harper have found some clues which lead them to British Columbia where a man named David Cain lives. He's either The Orphan or he's responsible for The Orphan or something. The only sure thing is that he's Cassandra's father because they both have the same last name. Unless he's her mother. Or brother. Or something. Instead of finding Cain or The Orphan, they run into somebody calling herself The Sculptor who greets Harper Row as a long lost statue.

Batman and Robin Eternal #10 Rating: +1 Ranking. I really thought the story made some interesting points and had some really intense philosophical moments whe...I mean FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

This has been a free taste of my wonderful reviews! You probably didn't make it past the sea of fucks to read this but I don't mind because those fucks had to be there. Because of, you know, Jean-Paul Valley. Anyway, this one is free to, you know, try to get people interested in spending one dollar per month to read the rest of my commentaries. As King Beauregard says about my site: “[I]f [DC Comics] had a lick of sense they'd pony up $1 each and pay attention to what you have to say.” Hear that, DC?! Let's see the moola, as they say in that movie I never saw but people loved to quote. If you’d like to support me and maybe get me to offer even more freebies (sure, why should you pay when other people will get them for free? Probably because you’re a totally terrific and swell person!), please head on over to Patreon and sign up for one dollar (or more!) per month. It’s totally worth it for the email notifications of new posts alone!