Suicide Squad Most Wanted: El Diablo and Killer Croc #4

Some covers just don't scream, "Read this comic book!"

El Diablo Review!
I read it. It was a comic book starring El Diablo. Batman is also in it, if that interests you. It incorporates art and words to tell a story. The story is better understood if you've read the previous three issues. Also, it helps to remember the previous three issues you read. I didn't remember them that well. Some characters from previous issues return. It ends with a cliffhanger as Amanda Waller sends Task Force IV or V to kill El Diablo. Amanda Waller has some serious control issues to work through.

The Ranking!
No change!

Killer Croc Review!

The Killer Croc story begins with an odd turn of events.

Why would Croc imagine himself as a white man?

I have a theory! This isn't the real Killer Croc! The real Killer Croc was last seen in the pages of Batwoman where we learned his sympathetic story and how he has been trying to make Gotham a better place for her displaced citizens. The Killer Croc we've seen since then is this white guy! Okay, that doesn't really make sense since Killer Croc #1 of Villains Month showed him as a young black kid. So my other theory is that the Rebirth Waylon Jones is a white guy! The theory I've decided isn't a great theory because it's criticizing people just trying to do their jobs is the one where the artist, colorist, and editor all majorly fucked up.

Killer Croc has just confronted an army of mutated, sentient animals even though Killer Croc is technically not really an animal. But it works thematically so shut the fuck up.

I once drew my own comic book called Arrogance. That was the name of the superhero group. Their first major battle was against the S.P.C.A. (Society of Paranormal and Cognitive Animals). It was pretty much this comic book.

The poor animals seem to recognize Killer Croc as one of their own so they decide to follow him. It might not last though since they're wearing some kind of control collars. And it doesn't. But then it does because Killer Croc smashes the control collars' control! Now he has an army of mutant animals!

Killer Croc saves the day like he was supposed to but not in the way Amanda wanted him to. Then he swims off to take a break from Suicide Squad business. Even though he's been quite busy over in Justice League vs. Suicide Squad. I guess he didn't much care for being alone.

The Ranking!
No change!

Suicide Squad Most Wanted: El Diablo and Killer Croc #3

Killer Croc stars in Battle Royale: Crete!

The El Diablo Review!
At one point in the story, quite early on, El Diablo says, "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you." At that moment, I lowered my head and thought, "I can't do this anymore. I just...I can't read boring writers who quote things everybody has heard because it's used every fucking where fucking else. Also fucking." I would be embarrassed to hand in a script which contained a line I've heard countless times in other sources. I would be all, "To write, or not to write! That is the question! Whether tis nobler to something something or whatever." Right off the tip of my tongue, that! I would totally finish the line if I could be bothered to expend my talents on this review of a story that already proved itself to be mediocre bullshit on page nine. Oh man. I was already on page nine?! It felt like I was only on the second page when this sense of futility crashed down upon me! Anyway, I should probably finish reading this. After all, I did pay $3.74 for it (after discount!).

Oh, after El Diablo farts that garbage from his mouth, he and Azucar make out. Whew! I was worried Jai Nitz wasn't going to weld an improbable love story onto this mess. I've had it with love stories! Now, so far they've just kissed, so it's entirely possible this will just be a stray path into Fistington and that'll be that. But we all know that any stupid comic book aimed at teens always gets it wrong and puts love ahead of sex. Love isn't a real thing! Love is just the feeling in your stomach that's like when the roller coaster crests that first hill and begins plummeting down the steepest descent! Except the feeling isn't caused by gravity; it's caused by the fearful realization that a person who doesn't totally seem to be disgusted by you will get to know the real you and flee as fast they can, just like every other person you've gotten close to. But that feeling also makes the orgasms better. The best you can hope for is that they'll become too lazy and unmotivated to ever leave your boring ass. It's not as if you aren't thinking the same thing about them! Relationships are always weighing whether or not it's time to quit before the other person fires you.

This is the most romantic dialogue I've read in years!

El Diablo runs into Catwoman choking Cluemaster in his office. So I guess they're fucking too? It's hard to tell what's sex and what's conflict and what's plans for the future because everybody is acting so weird! El Diablo and Azucar just began kissing while swapping origin stories. I certainly didn't expect them to get naked during that. So when El Diablo walks in on Catwoman dressed in leather with her whip around Cluemaster's neck and a laptop under her arm, you can understand how I might think they're fucking. It's far more sexy than telling somebody how they got their job with Checkmate. That didn't make me want to fuck Azucar at all!

Some woman who escaped the Suicide Squad breaks up the fight (oh yeah! There was a fight between Catwoman and El Diablo!) and forced Catwoman to give the laptop to El Diablo. She doesn't reveal who she is. If she's been seen before, my brain has decided it wasn't worth keeping the information. She does use some kind of Darkseid gun though!

Later, while doing the thing that El Diablo is doing...you know, whatever the main plot is...he and Azucar run into Sin Tzu. He's all, "You are here for the plot?" And they're all, "Yeah, yeah! The plot! The Beowulf Project, I guess?" And Sin Tzu is all, "Oh yeah! That! Meet the experiments!" Then he introduces them to a bunch of zombies created by mixing Lazarus Juice with Joker Poison and Bane Drug and Scarecrow Gas and Man-Bat Semen. Gross! Oh wait! It's Man-Bat Serum!

Anyway, that's probably the end for El Diablo and Azucar. No way they can battle a bunch of super zombies in the Ace Chemical plant where El Diablo can't use his powers without destroying Gotham completely! I mean, probably!

The Ranking!
-1! This ranking is because I simply don't care about this comic book. Although I wouldn't mind if more comic books had characters undressing and making out in the middle of any conversation. That sex scene was really weird! As if Jai Nitz rewrote the scene but only after Cliff Richards had finished the art for the original scene where they get all fucky with each other. At least it wasn't a Batman and Alfred scene. That would have been weird. Not because they're both guys! It's just that Alfred is like his father! And he's old!

The Killer Croc Review!
What more can be said about Killer Croc that hasn't already been said beautifully in the pages of The New 52 Batwoman? Oh wait! A lot since that entire history of Killer Croc was thrown in the garbage can, right next to my pride which I haven't seen since the first time I had sex. It was not a good experience. I mean, I orgasmed, so that was great! But I did it quickly and all over my partner's face. Surprise! That thing was waiting years to go off at somebody else's hands!

What I'm trying to say is I have no idea where DC Comics stands with Killer Croc right now. Is he a savage animal killing indiscriminately to survive under the streets of Gotham? Is he a monster, lost and alone in an uncaring world? Is he a guy just trying to take care of himself and the other undesirables living in the sewers of Gotham? I'm just trying to figure out how much I should sympathize with him in this story.

Waylon Jones basically asks the same question at the start of this story: "Am I a monster or a man?" This is where I'd normally think about ending it all so I don't have to read yet one more comic book with the whole "What am I?!" theme. But this time, Waylon finishes the thought with "Depends on the day I'm having," and I'm won over. At least for the next eighteen pages! I can give it that much for letting me know, right off the bat, that Waylon isn't really worrying his scaly big head about the answer to that question. He's both, and he acts as one or the other according to his situation. I can appreciate that.

I used to daydream about the end of the world as a kid. Not about the event that ended it. But living in it. Just me. A lone survivor with nothing but time and lots of empty houses to explore.

Waller sends Croc to an island full of monsters being used as weapons to destroy nearby cities, and eventually cities not so nearby, and then cities even further away than that. But Croc is supposed to destroy the monsters and the lab that's creating them. Instead, Waylon befriends the monsters and leads his army of misfits down into the island where the evil corporation's secret lab lies. But once he's underground, he's out of radio contact with Amanda. Which also means she can't detonate the bomb in his neck. He's finally free of Waller's orders. He's free to do whatever he wants. He'll probably shoot up some of the secret serum and become Super Killer Croc. At least for a few pages before he collapses from exhaustion and winds up back in Belle Reve, ready for another suicide mission.

The Ranking!
+1! This story was interesting enough! It might not have super duper wowed me but it has a point. And I always appreciate a story that has a viewpoint, or really works through a theme. This story is all about how animals can't be monsters; man is the real monster! Okay, so that's not the most original theme. But it's nice to see Killer Croc acknowledge that the side of him that makes him a violent murderer is the side of him that has nothing to do with his disfigurement. That's all just homegrown humanity coming out of him!

Batman #52

I bet we get Happy Batman for only one issue and the Rebirth will provide him with plenty of reasons to be sad and justice-obsessed again. Besides, we already have Happy Batman and his name is Dick Grayson.

The Review!
If Issue #51 was Snyder's epilogue, Issue #52 is Tynion's footnote. That doesn't mean it's less important! Footnotes are quite important to the overall understanding of the complicated thing being read. Or the wanting to be postmodern thing being read. Whatever. Anyway, it's a pleasant little story about how Alfred helped focus young Bruce's obsession so that the search for justice wouldn't consume him, and he'd always keep in mind that he was doing it for his parents. Or something. Maybe I didn't understand the story as much as I could have had I not been punching holes in my wall while screaming, "Why didn't you ever show your love, Daddy?! Why couldn't you die while I still had an untarnished image of you, Mommy?!" Reading this will probably be a different experience for most of you. Aside from the damaged sheet rock, it was an enjoyable story!

The Commentary!
Thanks to Jury Duty, I'm even further behind in my comic books than I already was! What shit timing because Rebirth comes out in about ten hours and I won't be able to read it immediately. Which means somebody, somewhere, is definitely going to spoil the entire thing for me. I guess I'm just going to have to ignore my Message Inbox for a few weeks. Luckily, nothing exciting happened during Jury Duty. It was so many levels of boring greater than I remember boring being. The best part was when a guy approached me because he must have thought I was poverty-stricken. He came up to me on the second day during lunch and said, "Excuse me, sir. I noticed you didn't go out for lunch yesterday either. Would you like a sandwich?" He then offered me what looked like a homemade egg salad sandwich which obviously means it's also a homemade germs from his unwashed dick hands sandwich as well. I politely declined and then chuckled to myself. See, I have this Burberry trench coat that I've been wearing for nearly a decade that I call my bum coat. I purchased it for less than twenty bucks at a Buffalo Exchange for a Philip K. Dick costume. Now ten years or so on, it looks even more like a hobo trench coat because it's severely in need of a good dry cleaning. It probably has more unwashed dick hands germs on it than the guy's Smeg-Salad sandwich.

Anyway, the final issue of New 52 Batman! I guess Scott Snyder couldn't be bothered to write fifty-two issues because he's a highfalutin la-dee-da dandy-pants. It's a good thing James Tynion IV is his thrall. "Larksadaisy, I think I've got a touch of the vapors! Somebody get Squire James on the horn and tell him another opportunity for greatness has arisen! He may write Batman once more! Oh, and whoever made this sweet tea? Kill them."

The issue begins two weeks after Martha and Thomas Wayne were murdered. Doctor Leslie Thompkins decides to pay Alfred and Bruce a visit. She also believes it's a good time to make jokes about acquiring the Wayne's grandfather clock. Alfred also explains why Wayne Manor wound up creepily being the home of just a butler and a young boy for so long. Alfred had to fire the other staff because he always hated them.

Doctor Leslie's professional advice to young Bruce was to make a list because she's the psychological equivalent of Cracked dot com. But Bruce is too young to realize that making lists is a stupid fucking way to organize content. It's much better to simply label something in a completely misleading and incomprehensible way so that you can disguise the place where you actually tell your most secret inner failings and life-shattering existentialist fears. Then people will stumble upon it and think, "What is this nonsense? Oh! I think it's about a subject I enjoy! Plus it's funny! I think. I mean, what's with all the wallowing in death anxiety and obvious abundance of Mother Issues?"

The first thing on Bruce's list must be "Watch more television." The second thing on his list is "Learn something mystical and wise from an Oriental mystic." Don't side-eye me! Bruce is the one who uses terms like "Oriental!" Didn't you see how I put that in quotes? That means it was based on the character and not mired in my racism!

After those two seminal moments of Bruce's past (which must be the most seminal moments ever or why did the story begin with them?), the story returns to the present where Batman is continuing his obsession with making lists.

This must be a new list because "Disappear." is totally different from "Watch more Great Space Coaster!"

Batman is hunting a new villain named Crypsis. It's also possibly an old villain. How should I know? Is this called Eee! Who's Who Ate Chai Tea? Of coruse it isn't! That doesn't make any sense, dumb-dumb.

I'm not ashamed that I had to look up on the Internet what "crypsis" meant. I am ashamed to say I've already forgotten because the Internet is full of naked people.

Batman fails to stop Crypsis from stealing Safety Deposit Box 1047. That number probably means something. But if it has anything to do with October 1947, I don't know what that would be because the covers of Batman and Detective Comics for that month are just the usual silly bullshit featuring Penguin and The Joker. The case has something important to Bruce Wayne inside of it. Maybe it's his original Recovery To-Do List! It could cause some real embarrassment for Bruce Wayne if Vicki Vale were to get her hands on it! You all know how embarrassing your earliest attempts at writing were, right? I mean, I don't know because everything I've ever written has been spun gold. I mean, it hasn't actually proven to be valuable at all. But some day, I'll be regarded as the more reclusive Emily Dickinson!

Another entry: #3 See How Small I Can Make My Penis.

Batman continues to remember his list and I have to admit, it is funnier than most of Cracked dot com's lists. "Disappear. Feel nothing. Let go of everything. Make them feel what I feel (which is, by the way, nothing if I'm doing the list correctly. Don't worry! It probably makes sense! My mind is damaged from trauma, remember! Gosh! Stop being so judgy!)."

There's another flashback and it makes my tear ducts think that they might be needed later, so they begin firing up the machinery.

Does Leslie Thompkins actually have a degree? What the hell has she been telling this kid?!

Bruce tears out the page with Alfred's addendum to his list. Oh, I bet that's what's in the stupid safety deposit box! Just that one page! And I bet Alfred wrote something stupid like "#99: If you insist on masturbating into the hand towels, please rinse them out yourself." Or maybe something more helpful and heartfelt also.

The entire notebook is inside the box. But I bet Alfred's page is Scotch taped back in! And I bet it's covered in baby Bruce tears!

Uuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnggggggggggggghhhhhhh! Whew. Whew. I did it! I avoided tacking on "and semen!" to the previous paragraph! I have the willpower of Hal Jordan!

Dammit. That didn't make me cry at all. Shut'er down, tear ducts! You won't be needed again until we pass another dead raccoon on the freeway!

Don't get my caption wrong! It's a nice bit of writing and a touching sentiment and blah-de-blah-blah-blah! It's just I've never given a fuck about how proud or not proud my parents were of me! Proud? Who the fuck cares about proud?! You know what did mean the world to me? The unconditional love of my mother's parents who never would have expressed their affection in such a cold way as "being proud." You know who says things like "We're proud of you no matter what you do"? Assholes parents who are really just saying, "Well, you're a fucking failure, but I guess we have to love you anyway." Look what needing somebody to proud of them has done to this poor lonely, damaged, and frightened child?! He had to become the greatest hero of all time just to think maybe he could make his Mommy and Daddy proud!

You know what? I could just be arguing semantics! But I really feel it's an important distinction to make sure your kids know you love them and want them to be happy and fuck all this pride nonsense. It's what makes corporate monsters!

Constantine the Hellblazer #7

Worst picnic ever. Which is pretty bad because picnics are shit.

Do Millennials know what picnics are? Are they even allowed to go outside? Do they want to?! I mean, obviously they want to get outside of their parent's supervision which means going out of their parent's house. But that's just to get inside somewhere else, right? Outside is boring and gross and probably Islamophobic. Not that I ever really wanted to go outside much in the eighties once I got my Apple IIe computer. But I sort of had to go outside to hang out with my friends because we weren't tethered by a mass of devices which provided instant communication with each other. We had to drag our asses somewhere else to speak face to face. It was awful! Although all the girls I had crushes on were friends of my female cousin so I always wanted to be at my aunt and uncle's house anyway. And all the biking I did riding BMX bikes up from the valley to the top of the Santa Cruz Mountains and, occasionally over the other side into Santa Cruz, I didn't really want to do! I mean, it made me fit and gave me a body that women wanted to have sex with, so that was a good thing. And it allowed me to spend time with my friends who loved the torturous ride up the mountain. And I did love the ride down the mountain even if it almost cost me my life on a couple of occasions! But all that exercise and outdoor air and weather and sun and crap?! I'd rather have been home playing an Infocom game or the new Wizardry!

This issue is called "Twisted Anatomy" which is probably some kind of sly wink at the time Swamp Thing became a character worth reading. I'm not going to argue with anybody who thought Swamp Thing was a good comic book before Alan Moore's "Anatomy Lesson" because you're wrong and I don't want to waste my time. Just suck up the loss this time and shake my hand and congratulate me on winning this debate and we'll get back to Constantine.

A couple of sexers are torn apart in a park by a bunch of evil dryads. "Sexers" is my word for "sexters" but who don't use a phone. Doing it in person--instead of masturbating while taking pictures of yourself and accidentally sending them to everybody in your phone book--is totally going to become super popular some day.

Constantine has just had some sexing too! But he didn't get torn apart by dryads.

John really is distracted if he thought any message he was receiving would have been appropriate to play in front of his lover.

I wish Ming and James would have John use his lover's name so I can speak about him like he's a real person and not just one of Constantine's accessories! I mean, Scott Lobdell would have rewritten the entire last issue in the first four pages of the next month's comic book. Not that I'm asking for that! I'm asking for something between not mentioning a fairly new character's name at least once and wasting four pages repeating shit that wasn't interesting the first time I read it. Like how about this for a compromise? Mention the guy's name one time!

Anyway, John's fucktoy discovers that Constantine's bathtub is clogged with Swamp Thing. Swamp Thing has a problem with the Green. That was an obvious statement, wasn't it? It's not like he'd come around for tea or some Netflix, right? So he tells John about some trees in Central Park that have been eating lovers.

Well, maybe not people. But some plants do eat meat, so what's the problem?!

Swamp Thing says some things that I could summarize really quickly but I'm going to draw out at length so that I have a bit of a word buffer before I insert another scanned panel that's just too adorable and vulgar for words and crotches. Central Park in New York City (not to be confused with Central Perk in Fake TV-Land New York City) has become closed to his Swamp-Thing-Sense. He needs Constantine to become Johnny Swampthingseed and spread Swamp Things jism all over the park so he can once again take control of it. That's probably enough words now.

These two are so cute together.

Constantine takes a bundle of little Swamp Things into the park to let them run wild and plant themselves everywhere to allow Swamp Thing to enter Central Park. The little Swamp Things are as cute as ever. They'll probably all be killed.

Constantine mentions the kid fiddling with the helmet of Fate which is a strange thing to mention when everybody in New York seems unworried about the flooding that's ending the world. Maybe this takes place after the first story arc of Doctor Fate ends which--extrapolating based on how long it feels it's run so far--forever and ever.

Constantine scares away some women about to have sex which is really disappointing. But I guess he needed their sexy mojo and then his urine to summon up the Dryads.

Ugh! I hated having to babysit newbies on their first trip!

The Dryads are just raving toddlers so Swamp Thing brings back the Mother of All Dryads to teach them to be peaceful. And just like that, the sexy tree adventure is over. It's really just another piece of evidence that John's New York is going full Ghostbusters.

After the adventure, Swamp Thing gives John some love advice. His advice is not to.

Constantine heads home thinking about the danger he's putting Oliver in. Oliver! That's what I though his name was but then I wouldn't allow myself the luxury of feeling secure about my guess because I assumed I was only thinking of Oliver because of John Oliver. Stupid brain is smarter than I realized.

John gets home and calls Oliver to break up. But Papa Midnite answers the phone because Oliver is naked and ready to be sacrificed with mystic symbols all over his chest and--oh yeah!--tied up at the moment. I knew there was a cliche in there somewhere!

Constantine the Hellblazer #7 Rating: No change. I'm sorry to wish death on poor old Oliver but we can't be playing now, can we? John gets all of his friends killed eventually so why should Oliver be any different? Okay, sure! I'll give you that he doesn't need to be killed immediately! He can survive this thing with Papa Midnite and then tell John that he's willing to risk a relationship with him and maybe even help him on some ghost hunts. He'll be all super into it and it'll make his dick as hard as rock and he and John will end every magical adventure filling each other up with come! But he'd eventually better fucking die, goddammit!