Larfleeze #6

The Orange Lantern symbol looks like a cute, fat, angry stick figure.

Since a new god named Errata is going to be introduced soon, I have a feeling that everything we've learned so far might wind up being wrong. Her power is probably to footnote any statement to explain how things really happened and how the speaker has gotten it wrong. I wonder if every sentence out of Errata's mouth will begin with "actually"?

The Orange Lanterns continue to argue about what to do with Larfleeze. Without Larfleeze to tell them what to do, they're useless! I mean, they're fun to look at but don't ask them what toppings they want on the pizza you're ordering. Once again, the issue begins with the Orange Lanterns making sure to call each other by name so that the reader remembers them for the next ten minutes while the reader finishes the comic book. I have a feeling no matter how many times I read "Sound Dancer," I'm still going to refer to her as "No-face Korean Ghost Monster."

Larfleeze haz revelations.

How do actual comic book reviewers review comic books without vomiting all over themselves? I really want to know because I'm tired of doing laundry! How does Melissa Grey over at IGN write "Though details are sparse, the mood evoked by the segment's visuals paints a vivid picture" without holding her empty Starbucks Iced Tea cup firmly on the desk and smashing her head down into the straw to give herself a quick lobotomy? She ends her review with "The intrigue of the book's first few pages loses steam, and one can't help but wonder how the present day's events will circle back to reclaim it." I remember writing things like this at 4:36 A.M. on the day a paper was due and then keeping the line preserved in a notebook entitled "Perfect Ways to End Papers." I should search for more examples of reviewers writing things that I can't write so that it doesn't look like I'm singling out Melissa but I'm a lazy asshole. It's probably a compliment that I chose Melissa's review! Not a compliment from me, of course! A compliment from Lord Google that he listed her review first when I looked up "Batwoman Reviews."

Being a comic book reviewer has got to be a tough job. It would drive me crazy to have to think up new and entertaining ways to talk about how the art brings the book to life or made my eyes bleed or caused me to remember that week I spent crying, locked up in my room because my cat had been hit by a car. At least Melissa is making a review as interesting as she can. I'd probably just submit, "How high does the numerical rating system go? 10? Then this was like a 6.2 or something. There was punching."

No, seriously! I wasn't having a go at Melissa! I was trying to point out something lacking in myself! I just can't write actual reviews of things. I can type out the thoughts I have as I read a comic book. But that's not even close to giving somebody else a brief synopsis of the quality of the comic book without spoiling the fuck out of it. Maybe I should just apologize.

I'm sorry, Melissa. To make it up to you, I'll purchase your book, The Girl at Midnight, when it's available. And I promise not to review it because I'm a dick and an asshole and that probably wouldn't go very well, no matter how truly amazing the book is.

I don't even know why I bother to try to explain myself when the internet just wants to believe what it wants to believe no matter how much I try to over-explain myself! Usually I just don't try to explain myself because however somebody interprets something you say, that's what they're going to believe you said no matter how many times you tell them they got it wrong and that they're fucking idiots.

Okay. Back to selfishness! A topic I'm having a bit of trouble understanding but at least the art in this comic book evokes a magic night on mushrooms playing with the fairy people only to wake up in a wet field the next day covered in smashed and stinking fairy people. Also, fairy people are actually cow manure.

Oh! I get it now! This review stuff is easy!

Like Ahab suddenly realizing the giant fish is made of sterner stuff than his glorious ship, Larfleeze lost his power to his underlings when they took his ring and made him a slave! But even more like a reviewer that never actually finished reading Moby Dick but likes to pretend that he has read it and understood every aspect of it completely, Larfleeze regains his power and strikes down all those that would point out he's gotten the entirety of the theme wrong. STRIKES THEM DOWN DEAD! DEAD! DEAD!

Pulsar Stargrave and The Wanderer visit The Council of Ten's Space Headquarters.

Only nine of the Council can be seen in the above panel so maybe the tenth one will silently rise up behind Pulsar and The Wanderer. And Pulsar will say, "Really? That's your enemy? Those big fat moldy old disgusting sarcophagus people?" And The Wanderer will grimace and flick her eyes back behind them. And Pulsar will say, "Are we really doing this cliche say something bad about someone who happens to be standing right behind me scene?"

Pulsar learns that there are only nine members in the Council of Ten, so I guess I was wrong about the stupid talking about somebody standing behind you scene. Which is good because how many times are we, as an audience, going to have to suffer through that fucking shit? I think the Writer's Guild should make a law that that joke can only be used in shows meant for children under twelve. Because they're the only ones who haven't seen it dozens of times already.

The Wanderer wants to infiltrate the Council of Ten which probably means climbing inside one of them. But since The Council of Ten is still looking for a tenth member, I'm hoping they choose Larfleeze. Or Cheeks the Toy Wonder. Who, I have to state angrily, can not be created in Scribblenauts Unmasked.

I guess that will work as well. Well, not as well since my plan is obviously the most superior plan. But their plan will do. I suppose.

Back to Larfleeze, I guess his gigantic orange explosion that decimated the planet didn't kill any of the previously dead ex-Orange Lanterns after he stole their rings and their was no way they could protect themselves. I think the cartoony art is supposed to prepare the reader for Looney Tunes type situations like this! Also it's a comic book and not reality which I keep forgetting. Anyway, Larfleeze has an ultimatum for his ex-Orange Lanterns. Or possibly a penultimatum.

What does Larfleeze care which they choose? Once he kills them, he'll have them as an orange construct again! Way to take a stupid stand, Clypta!

Larfleeze doesn't kill them and he doesn't make slaves of them. He just ditches them on their dead planet and heads off to find his butler. Even though it seems hopeless that the ex-Orange Lanterns will find rescue in an infinite universe, I have a feeling some kind of cosmic coincidence will happen their way and pick them up in his space taxi.

Larfleeze #6 Rating: -1 Ranking. I've been hoping for a more whimsical, humorous book to hit The New 52 on a regular basis but this just hasn't been it. Not at all. I like the look of the book but I'm not finding it very funny. It sometimes feels like it's getting more interesting by evoking visual mood evocations, but then it loses steam and leaves one wondering how events will chug back around to pick up the interest that it forgot to take with it. CHOOOOO! CHOOOOO!

Larfleeze #5

Initially, my favorite Orange Lantern was Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen. But I'm really becoming partial to Noface Korean Ghost Monster.

This is a terrific cover because it tells you everything you need to know about last issue. Also it's painted quite nicely. I suppose you might also want to remember Dyrge, the Emo God from the other universe full of incestuous gods. I know when I say it like that, it makes it sound like a mirror universe to ours. But that one was destroyed by these gods so they had to come over to the New 52 and pee all over this party too. Not that this party has been going so well. If only DC had concentrated as much on "character building" as they did on "world building" when they began this thing, it might be more interesting as a whole. As it is, I don't really find the majority of titles compelling. Maybe that's just what happens when you force yourself to publish fifty two different titles each month. It definitely means you need a lot of writers, so you wind up having job openings for people like Scott Lobdell and Ann Nocenti. I hope nobody misquotes me and says, "Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea was heard to say, '...people like Scott Lobdell and Ann Nocenti.'"

Speaking of liking Scott Lobdell, you should head over to his Facebook Fanpage and help him get to 1000 Likes! I just checked and he's at 980! Come on! His Teen Titans sells tens of thousands of copies a month! How can he not have 1000 Likes yet! Get with it, people! He's an important Writer! Give him some credit! And tell him Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea sent you!

Currently, Larfleeze has had his ring taken away and he's chained in a cage listening to his ex-Orange Lanterns plan how they're going to go about torturing him. During the conversation, everybody's name is used so the reader can catch up on who's who. But I'll just forget that the Twi'lek is named Clypta and Glomulus is named Glomulus and the Space Tapeworm is named Nat Nat and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen is named Warp Wrap and Noface Korean Ghost Monster is named Sound Dancer and the "minotaur" (that's a cross between a minotaur and a centaur!) is named Ceebiss and the Neckbearded Elephantopus is named Tammal Tayn.

I bet the first place he builds is a gaming shop with lots of tables and coolers full of soda where he can hang out with a handful of people obnoxious enough to drive out new people who walk in thinking, "I'd love to start gaming in a place like this while meeting new people! But, umm, hmm...not those people." Because nothing says "Good time!" like arguing over a game of Magic the Gathering about the perfect character build to eke out every possible advantage in a game of Dungeons and Dragons that is never going to be played because nobody at the table actually likes role-playing with each other. Also, the new rules suck. And so do the old rules. Seriously, who wants to sit around playing games with four or five other Devil's Advocates who "actually" everything said by everyone ever?

Meanwhile on the World of Suicidal Edwardian Robots, Pulsar Stargrave learns that something called The Council of Ten threatens his new master, The Wanderer, and her sister/brother/uncle/aunt/mother/fathers. I guess making the mystery antagonist a number opens up future story possibilities, especially The Thirteen Ghosts of Scooby Doo plot device. So you have Lobdell's "Thirteen" which has probably been long forgotten by everybody who doesn't hold Lobdell accountable for every plot thread he starts, and you have Lobdell's "Twenty" which he mentioned and then actually did something with so he might still deal with "The Thirteen" unless I've got that number wrong since it's been so long since the Star Wars episodes of Red Hood and the Outlaws. And now you have the Council of Ten because I couldn't think of any more examples. But I'm sure there are more!

The House of Tuath-Dan is like an incestuous version of The Endless. I just like typing "incestuous."

So far I really like Dyrge but I think my favorite will wind up being Errata.

Back on The New Home Planet of the Orange Lanterns, Larfleeze learns from a hallucination his real history that he's forgotten because he's been lying to himself and everyone around him for billions of years. The real history does not make him look good. But it does explain why he was chosen to be the one and only Orange Lantern.

You say selfish, I say survivor.

Larfleeze falls apart after learning the truth of his actions. He still wants to believe that he's a hero and that everything he does is for the benefit of others. Why shouldn't he own everything? Everybody loves him and they want him to be happy and successful! His selfishness creates a bubble of self-confidence that keeps him from questioning anything he does. His greatest delusion is that other people see him the same way that he sees himself.

Larfleeze #5 Rating: No change. Why is the world so cold? No, not metaphorically cold! I'm fucking freezing my ass off and I'm sheltered within a slightly more than ramshackle house! Why are there so many drafts? Can't somebody laminate this place to keep the wind from getting in? How am I supposed to concentrate on reading comics when it feels like ghouls keep caressing various body parts? And why does the cat behind me keep screaming at me, setting off the cat in my lap to return the yell?! And to top it all off, I've had a foreign object in my eye since last night! How do you get that shit out of there?! Stupid eyeballs! If only there were an internal, biological mechanism to wash stuff out of your eyes.