Showing posts with label Poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poem. Show all posts

Friday, May 8, 2026

Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea: The Newsletter #29 (Third Week of June 2018)

E!TACT #29
Batman #48 & #49, The Man of Steel #2, The Man of Steel #3, Poetry Corner, and Grunion Guy's Musical Corner of Music Reviews!
By Grunion Guy


Comic Book Reviews!


Batman #48 & #49
By King, Janin, and Chung

I like what Tom King has done in comics. I truly like the way he tells a story. But he's got one major problem. He doesn't seem to know when a story doesn't need to be told. This is that story.

The easy reason for why it didn't need to be told is that we've seen this premise before. If Batman is happy, he stops being Batman. Got it. Understood! Thanks for making sure Batman remains grim and unbearable for the sake of hardcore fans who don't know the definition of whimsy. Anyway, Snyder, who retold the story most recently, took over a year to tell this story so at least I can say Tom King's version is shorter.

The hard reason for why it didn't need to be told will take a convoluted while for me to tell. So let me start with why I know why it needed to be restated as prologue to the wedding of Batman and Catwoman. Comic book readers, who know this marriage will never take and is just another big nothing in the life of a comic book character whose basic attributes and life situation can never truly change, needed to be reminded that they knew this marriage wouldn't work. We've had months of Bat this and Cat that lulling us into this fantasy world where Batman and Catwoman would suddenly be fighting crime together at night and ruining the sheets Alfred keeps bleaching by day. What a wonderful world this was going to be! So romantic and fun!

But then the Joker had to show up and shit all over it in the most disturbing way possible. If you're thinking the most disturbing way possible to shit on Batman's wedding is to shit on Batman's wedding, you're wrong by a factor of a spree killing in a church.

Oh, but before I continue with that thought, let me answer the question I keep hearing from all of my imaginary readers: "So, Grunion Genius, you're saying this story didn't need to be told but that the previous Booster Gold story did?" No, you fucking idiots, that's not what I'm saying. Christ, it's like I have to constantly hold the hands of your tiny brains when I say anything at all on the Internet so I don't have to hear your incessant and imagined stupidity! Obviously no comic book story ever needs to be told. But I don't want to get into the philosophical weeds where we keep getting back to the main question of how we tell the nature of reality through our meager and insufficient means of experiencing it. If I accept the Booster Gold story can be told, I suppose I need to accept that this story can be told. Except I don't want to. Which leads me back to the reasons why before you interrupted me.

But first let me interrupt myself! Way back when I was a virginal teenager (much different than today because now I'm a virginal adult), I remember having this distinct thought about a comic book series I was reading: "I hope I don't die before I can finish reading this story." I'd like to say it was something like Watchmen or Elfquest or even Crisis On Infinite Earths. But it's sad to say it was just as likely to have been Blue Devil or Blue Beetle or Blue Falcon and Dynomutt. The important thing to realize is that I was once an age where each individual story seemed important. I was passionately invested in any garbage turned out from month to month because I was invested in the characters. Back then, I didn't follow writers or artists or Gnostic visions brought on by the ingestion of psilocybin mushrooms. I just wanted to read more stories about Skywise banging Foxfur in a starry meadow. But I'm more sophisticated now! I mean more cynical! I mean more understanding of the way comic books work and how they never really get to the point of anything. They're just one meaningless drama after another as each writer takes a turn to express why they feel the character was important to them twenty years before they finally got a chance at writing that character. It turns out a lot of writers just want to say the same exact thing.

And that was my first and easiest to come up with reason for why this story didn't need to be told. My second reason was, essentially, that no story actually needs to be told so that seems to make my first reason moot. But it doesn't! Because if no story needs to be told then all stories can be told. Which means none of them truly matter. Because at that point, the story about how your grandmother would eat her toenail clippings suddenly has as much worth as the story of Christ resurrected (which, I guess, it does so that's a bad example. But hopefully you get my point!). Which brings me back to the difficulty of expressing the point of this essay: Tom King didn't need to tell this story.

I think it's important to try to understand why Tom King thought he needed to tell this story though. Did you read The Sheriff of Babylon? I'm going to assume that you did. In it, Tom King seemed to be expressing the absurdity of this world in a truly serious and awful story about how war and the clash of cultures and greed and desire and need and corruption and all of the human accessories are piled upon us to fuck us all, forever. It's absurd that so many people suffer from global conflicts that we all feel powerless to avert, as if they're a volcano erupting or a tsunami triggered by a massive earthquake. We're all swept up in unnatual disasters we treat as natural. What can you do? This is the way things are. We have a role and we must play our part. *shoulder shrug*

In The Sheriff of Babylon, we discover a group of people caught up in this existential farce. But we also see them trying their best to do the right thing. What can you do in the face of absurdity except to try to do your best? I mean aside from, like most people, to do their worst by making everybody miserable simply to get as much wealth and power as they can. There is that choice, after all. That point will probably tie back in when I get back to Batman but my main point here is trying to highlight that, I think, the world cracked Tom King in his pre-comic book writer life and he can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all as he treats it as deadly serious.

Take a look back at the Booster Gold story in the previous Batman arc. It's nothing if not a deadly serious situation told in an absurd fashion about one guy trying to do the best he can to improve that situation. That's also The Sheriff of Babylon (except the one dude is two dudes and a lady). That's also The Omega Men (except the one dude is a tiger man and a princess and a robot and an orphan and the worst Green Lantern (in his best role)). That's also Mister Miracle (except the one dude is one New God and his wife and baby). And then, there's Maude. I mean Batman.

Maybe I should sum up "The Best Man" before continuing? The Joker murders a bunch of people in church to get Batman's attention. He then defeats Batman so that Catwoman has to step in. This is when we learn that his main reason for this nonsense is to convince Catwoman to not marry Batman by killing her. Or maybe just convince her by almost killing her and then dying. Whatever his reasons (which, let's face it, are unfathomable because he's The Joker, right?!), the main point is to keep Batman sad and grim so that Batman will keep punching The Joker in the face.

Wait! I don't think I told that right! The Joker points out that if Batman is happy, he can't be Batman (as we saw in Snyder's story and all the others that I'm certain exist but I don't have time to research and I can't remember due to all those Gnostic visions). And if he can't be Batman, he can't stop the Joker from constantly killing people in Gotham churches. Not that Batman stops that anyway. I guess what Batman's real service to Gotham is to stop the Joker from killing everybody in two churches (or killing everybody from two poisoned reservoirs (or killing everybody from two Joker-tainted Justice Leagues (or killing everybody from two massive gas attacks (or from killing everybody from two machine gun filled parades (or, well, you probably got the point twenty years ago))))). What is left ambiguous is whether the Joker wants Batman to stop him because, as Catwoman via The Riddler's logic points out, he's not really crazy and needs to be punished for what he knows are evil actions, or if The Joker just loves Batman and would miss him if he stopped being there to punch Joker in the face. What isn't left ambiguous is that the Joker convinces Catwoman of this by the end of the story. Batman says, "We don't know what the Joker wanted but he didn't get it." And then Catwoman laughs because, literally, what he wanted was for Catwoman to laugh. Of course his main agenda was to get Catwoman to not marry Batman. But that, of course, is why Catwoman laughs at Batman's suggestion that the Joker didn't get what he wanted.

So that's the story! The Joker does a horrible thing while saying shocking stuff to Batman and then nearly kills all the main characters before Catwoman finally gets the joke. And after all these words, I haven't really stated why this story didn't need to be told (aside from the fact that it's been told and we, as comic book readers, already understand that Catwoman and Batman will not wind up in a happily ever after (since, you know, comic books don't have an after! They just have an eternal almost now)).

The reason the story did not have to be told seems to be because it made me uncomfortable. It really is an unpleasant read. I can see the regular Internet critics who hate Tom King right now feeling justified: "He's trying to write funny dialogue in a deadly serious situation! What a hack!" But it made me think, "Has this version of The Joker ever been done before?" Sure, the Joker's made readers uncomfortable by killing randomly. He's made people uncomfortable due to his unpredictability. And he's made people uncomfortable by trying to suck Batman's dick. But has he ever made people squirm because of the things he's saying in a way they shouldn't be said? And then I thought, "Am I the Joker?"

Example: the Non-Certified Spouse and I were watching season one of Project Runway Junior. When Victoria gets kicked out, she says, "It's been such a great experience being around kids that all share the same passion." And I said, "What? Masturbation?" At that point, the Non-Certified Spouse looked at me as if I'd just shit all over Batman's wedding.

I don't know. I guess I just can't defend my own premise. The Joker's actions are absurd. Batman's reaction and the way he lets the Joker lead him to defeat is absurd. Catwoman's blasé attitude to Bruce possibly being killed and then bleeding out with the Joker is absurd. Is this a retelling of The Sheriff of Babylon in microcosm? Is Batman Christopher? Is Catwoman Saffiya? Are they just caught up in an endless man-made natural disaster called Gotham?

At the end of the first half, The Joker tells Batman to head toward love because all else is chaos. But his whole point is to end Batman's love. Is it because the Joker's love is chaos? Is he, finally, admitting he doesn't love Batman at all? If that's the case, I might have to scrap my original premise that this story didn't need to be told. Because I've grown tired of the Joker as Batman's disgruntled and rebuffed boyfriend. The whole idea that the Joker loves Batman has become a parody of itself. I think the Lego Batman Movie finally put the fork in that one. You can't keep alluding to it if everybody begins stating it outright. But what if Tom King is saying, "No, wait. The Joker doesn't love Batman. The Joker actually does love murder and mayhem and chaos. The Joker loves those things. But what are those things without an audience? It becomes masturbation if there's nobody there to witness it. And so, in that way (and that way only), the Joker needs Batman. He needs a serious and grim and opposite-of-absurd witness to the chaos." If that's what Tom King is saying (and I don't know for sure because I haven't asked him because every time I'm at a con where Tom King is signing, there's picture of me posted to warn security to keep me at least fifty feet away from his table (I mean, seriously, you tweet at a guy a non-insubstantial number of times that you'd like to suck his dick in appreciation of all the great stories he's told and you get blacklisted for it!)), you know what? Maybe this story did need to be told. But if he's not saying that, fuck him! Just kidding! I mean, seriously, if he's not into getting his dick sucked by a crazy eyed rabid stranger, he certainly won't be into full coitus! Maybe he's been hinting around that what he really wants offered is a hand job? Hmm.

Rating: If you'd read my introductory paragraph and thought, "Grunion Guy is really going to let Tom King have it by describing why this story shouldn't have been told," you're now finding out you were wrong. What you should have thought when you read my introductory paragraph was, "Grunion Guy really doesn't know how to write essays, does he?" Because I liked this story. It was awkward and uncomfortable and disgusting and all the things the Joker should be. But it still shouldn't have been told. Because I like my Joker crazy and violent and chaotic. This Joker knows way too precisely exactly how fucking creepy he's being. And if this version of the Joker sticks around, we're all fucked.

P.S. Don't @ me for saying "It becomes masturbation if there's nobody there to witness it" because I, too, understand how nice masturbation is when there's somebody there to witness it. As does the Joker, I think.


* * * * * * * * * *


KB already replied: I think I get what you're saying. In theory, a writer should ask whether the story he's telling is worth telling -- does it reveal any new wrinkles about the characters or change their world in any fashion? -- and then the question after that is, does it leave the characters in a better storytelling condition?

You can tell a story that has no impact on anything; that's all right, but at least make it fun. You can tell a story that's already been told, but please don't; at least come up with a new wrinkle that leaves characters in a better position. As you point out, it looks like the Joker is in no way improved by this.

I wonder if the writers and editors have trouble with what to me is a simple concept: Bruce Wayne may not exactly enjoy being Batman, but he finds it fulfilling at some level. That shouldn't be that hard to understand, and it serves as a good center for Batman: he'd love to live in a world where he wasn't necessary, but since he is, he's in for the duration. It's hard and it's stressful, but he can do no less. And maybe they could spare us from retelling this story yet again if it were treated like a no-brainer: Batman Batmans because somebody has to and he is the best candidate for the job.

Two things I liked about "Zero Year" that, I think, really inform who Batman is and how he relates to the Joker:

1) We saw in the ZY flashbacks that Bruce Wayne is very deeply bugged by the fragility of human life. As a teenager he was in the habit of seeing all the people around him as basically one bullet away from being corpses. That's a solid insight into Bruce Wayne and why he Batmans: not because he hates crime, not because he wants revenge, but because people are going to die unless he does something. So simple and straightforward, yet so many writers (and readers) have trouble with it.

2) Here's how things look from the Joker's perspective (I'm not even going to try to give it the Joker's voice but bear with me). "Okay, so we used to try to commit crimes and terrorize Gotham as the Red Hood Gang, right? Except there was this vigilante who showed up to stop us. I don't know who he was; he'd dress up in disguises so we never knew who he'd be, but he'd turn up again and again, and he could never quite stop us. I guess we pushed him too far, because one day he just showed up dressed as a giant bat! HO-LEE SHIT. That guy is NUTS!" Snyder never said so explicitly, but I definitely got the feeling that the Joker loved how he'd pushed his vigilante into some next-level crazy; how do you walk away from that?

Anyway, those are examples of stories that reveal something new about the characters, and I feel leave them in a better position. On the other side of that we've got Snyder's later reveal (which I still think was originally just a hallucination and then bad editors got involved) that the Joker is immortal, he can suddenly be seen in old photos, he heals like he does because of magic metal, he can stick an axe in Jim Gordon's chest without killing him, and so on. New wrinkles but they weaken the character.

My Reply: 1. I hate the idea that Bruce Wayne can't be both Batman and happy. It doesn't make sense and it's just something most current Batman writers and editors just seem to agree with.

2. Why can't Bruce and Selina be happily married? Why can't a wife who is also Catwoman temper Bruce/Batman in the same ways that readers have accepted Robin does. Not those same ways, pervert.

3. I think the Joker may have been improved by this. That was kind of my point and nearly the only reason I liked it after a second or third reread. I believe this is a Joker we haven't seen. I can't be sure because I haven't read all of the Joker stories. But I hated this Joker. Not in an "I hate the way Tom King wrote this Joker" kind of way. I hated the Joker Tom King wrote because I'm pretty sure I'm meant to hate him. I don't think you can admire this Joker in the way fans admire psychotic bad guys because of how entertaining they can be. This Joker was the creepy Japanese horror villain amid all the Freddy Kreuger's and Jason Voorhees of Western horror cinema.

4. Because of #3, I believe this story did need to be told. But that's the only reason. Everything else was stuff we've already gotten. Batman failing to save people from Joker. Joker hurting people to get to Batman. Fans being told in a fairly explicit way, "This marriage can't work because fake reasons we've all told you about over and over and over again."

5. Okay, maybe #3 wasn't the only reason. I do think having Joker poison the marriage by getting to Catwoman was a nice touch (since it had to happen in some way anyhow). Plus the way Catwoman and Joker kind of commented on their history as Batman villains (while awkward and unrealistic due to bleeding out but not bleeding out because they kept pressure on their wounds! (but, I mean, comic book! So unrealistic I don't mind!)) was a bit of that fun absurdity in a deadly serious situation.

6. I still can't believe Snyder's Joker story didn't turn out to be a hallucination. Perhaps he's still hallucinating and has been since that story?!

7. The bottom line for me was that when I first read this, I hated it. After the second reading, I realized why: it was fucking disturbing. After the third reading, I realized it reminded me of The Sheriff of Babylon. That's when all of Tom King's stuff began reminding me of all of Tom King's stuff. He's the real world example of Watchmen's Comedian. Not because he raped somebody or beat up a guy because he was gay (did he do those things? Sorry fictional Comedian if I just slandered your character) but because he chooses to add whimsy and goofiness to stories that have an underlying deadly and serious tone.

8. It's like when I began to realize that all of my all-time favorite books had a common thread of escaping versus fighting back. Catch-22. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. The Grapes of Wrath. Even House of Leaves and Alice in Wonderland tell a version of that story. I'm drawn to certain themes and tones, it seems. And whatever Tom King is doing overall, I'm drawn to it.

9. I can't wait for more from Tom King. For me, this was the worst Joker ever. In a good way.

Oh, and I like your points #1 and #2. Of course, your version of The Joker fits with Riddler's version, I'd say. Where he isn't really crazy. But he is, like all Batman villains, obsessive. His obsession, once he realized the bat guy was nuts, is in fucking with the bat guy. I can totally see that.


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The Man of Steel #2
By Bendis, Shaner, Rude, and Sinclair


"Happy birthday, son! We got you an alienating back story!"

Over the years, I've had a lot of responses to my comic book reviews. While a few of them were "Why do you hate my . . . I mean Cullen Bunn's writing so much?", most of them were a version of "So I just finished your review and I was wondering what you really think of the comic book." This has always intrigued me. Why would somebody actually want to know a stranger's opinion on what was almost certainly a shitty comic book? Maybe ten of my four thousand reviews were actually meant to encourage people to read the comic book I was reviewing. Most of the reviews were an experience unto themselves. Whenever somebody would ask what I really thought, I realized that person didn't read the review correctly and probably had a learning disability. I mean, it was a Batman comic book! You already know what 95% of that experience is going to be! And if you need the other five percent to be whether some terrible writer on the Internet liked or disliked it, maybe you've got issues trusting your own judgment.

What's even worse is when people argue with me. There was that one guy who totally wasn't Cullen Bunn or his wife who argued incessantly with my Twat Lobo reviews. He then went on to argue with my Not-Twat Lobo-centric Justice League of America reviews. On a number of occasions, I simply responded, "You don't understand this blog." He would invariably answer, "What's to understand?!" which he probably meant as an insult, right? "Your opinions are so simple-minded and biased! Sorry not sorry!" But I refused to explain the magic trick and instead just continued to boggle at his inability to understand exaggeration for effect and obvious bias disguised as impartial critique.

Not that I should be surprised by that response and then insult their learning disability that I'm sure they've been struggling with for years when the whole point of my reviews is that they're supposed to sound like an arrogant yet somewhat stupid asshole who doesn't know how to write reviews! Did that sound convincing? Do you now believe that it was a purposeful fictional voice created all those years ago? I finally fired my therapist and I'm trying a new strategy to get people to like me. Right now I'm trying "Oh, you thought that was my real personality? Silly!" My previous attempt to get people to like me was to not care if they really thought I believed the horrible things I said. Spoiler alert: they all thought I really believed the things I said and hated me for it!

That last statement isn't entirely true. That one time when some petitioner on the street asked me if I wanted to save the pandas and I said, "I hate pandas," she flirtatiously stuck her tongue out at me and I'm fairly certain I only imagined her mutter "Cunt" from behind my back as I walked on.

"So, um, Man of Steel #2?" you might be asking. "Yeah, yeah!" I say charismatically. "I'm getting to that!" That's the segue into the actual review part (which, as I pointed out so that you don't retain any high expectations, will barely be a review).


These four panels basically explain the premise of the entire series. My review of them? "If I have to read this many words in every panel, I'm going to kill myself publicly."

Let's pretend that Rogol Zaar is Bendis's Mary Sue and Krypton is America so that we can theorize how Bendis is anti-America. Who else is on board with that interpretation? To completely understand it, you might have to remember how Rogol Zaar's reasons for destroying Krypton was that Krypton was a threat to the entire fabric of DC continuity. Just like how Bendis thinks America is a threat to world peace. In Bendis's mind, America must be destroyed if we're to save the rest of the world.

Not that I'm saying I agree with Bendis because I live in America and please don't destroy me but it's a compelling theory, right?!

But that whole Rogol Zaar crap doesn't matter yet! The thing that matters is that Lois Lane and Jon are missing and everybody is all, "Did Clark Kent murder them?" Even Hal Jordan was all, "So, I heard from Oberon that things in the Kent-Lane home (and probably bedroom) aren't so great?" But instead of Superman telling Hal, "Well, maybe I could use the Justice League's help because there was this incident last week where this thing appeared in our kitchen and then I was on the moon and . . . well, I'll tell you more as the story unravels across six issues. For now, that's all you need to know." Then Hal could have been, "Oh, um, excuse me. I need to be on Planet I'm-Not-Making-Up-This-Name in like a nanosecond. Thanks for whatever!"

I wasn't sure how I felt about Bendis and then I got to this page:


He's the greatest comic book writer of our generation!

Ambush Bug is saying, "Dsagfds! Jgfh hgfdhdfg gfsdd." I guess he can only speak using letters in the home row. In the next panel, he exclaims, "Ljkl!" as he drops the items he's juggling. I guess "Ljkl!" is Homerowese for "FUCK!"

In the galactic bar where Ambush Bug has declared his DC continence (don't argue with me. That wording works better than you think!), Rogol Zaar wanders in to have his once yearly drink. I guess he's been slumbering for thirty something years and only wakes up once a week or something. While there, he sees the symbol of the House of El and learns that there's still a Kryptonian out there. Apparently his rage wasn't that the race of Kryptonians would destroy the universe but that they existed at all. Because he's still super angry about one superman left in the galaxy. His racial animosity flares and, I'm pretty certain, he's planning a trip to Earth. Or what are the other four issues going to be about? Superman looking for Lois and Jon? How much punching will be in that story? Boring!


Maybe Bendis is less the greatest writer of our generation and less angry at America's abuse of power on the world stage and more of a MAGA type. Why are all his homeless people minorities?

I apologize if Bendis isn't as racist as that page might seem. It could also be Doc Shaner or Steve Rude or Alex Sinclair who are the racist ones.

So, um, anyway, Rogol Zaar decides to hop on his space motorcycle in an attempt to be even less like Lobo (that was sarcastic because Lobo rides a space motorcycle and is also black and white and also loves genocide!) so he can zip to Earth and kill Superman (oh! And Lobo also once tried to kill Superman!).

Rating: My interest is still being held! There's a story here which is better than all of those comic books that don't have a story. The only problem is that the antagonist has been seen before in several different versions and parodies of those versions. And there's always a new version of how and why Krypton was destroyed. But at least Lois Lane has been kidnapped so that's, um, not yet the different thing I was looking for. What about the Daily Planet going under or being sold? No, no. Seen that. Anyway, Ambush Bug made an appearance! That's got to count for at least fifty cents of the cover price!


* * * * * * * * * *


The Man of Steel #3
By Bendis, Sook, and Sinclair


The maniac was Uncle Bushido zombie David Bowie Lobo?!

I get the feeling when Brian Michael Bendis was designing the character of Rogol Zaar, people kept asking him, "Are you trying to make him like Lobo?" And Bendis's answer was always, "Why do people keep asking me that? Of course I am! Now I have to make him even more like Lobo so they stop asking!" Because at first, he just sort of looked like him with the white and black motif and the facial hair. But then readers were introduced to his love of genocide. Then when people were thinking, "Geez, Brian. You know Lobo already exists, right?", he let us all in on Rogol Zaar's unique method of getting around space: a space Harley! At that point, there were few people denying the blatant rip-off of Lobo in the character design. But those few who were left were all, "No way. Totally different. It's not like Rogol Zaar loves space dolphins and has a skull belt buckle!"


Game, set, and match!

Rogol Zaar trashes the Fortress of Solitude before finding the Bottle City of Kandor half full of Superman's late night wees. There's no guessing what he's going to do with it! Except this comic book isn't being told in the world that I want to live in so there are probably just a few guesses that could be true. Fucking it until all the Kandorians drown in Rogol Zaar cum probably isn't one of them.

Superman hears the Fortress of Solitude alarm and leaves Batman alone to investigate the arsons in Metropolis. Superman is a boy scout and not a detective. Superman can start a fire but he can't tell you who started one. I hope there isn't a "Man of Steel Tie-in!" issue of Batman where Batman has to leave Catwoman on their honeymoon to investigate arson for twenty pages. But I do hope there's a Catwoman "Man of Steel Tie-in!" issue where Batman has to go investigate arson on their honeymoon so she spends twenty pages masturbating in a heart-shaped bed.


Superman grew up with the most cerebral parents. "Stuff is just stuff" and "Fire is fire!" You don't get this kind of down-on-the-farm wisdom growing up in a coastal elite bubble!

Superman finds Kandor smashed. Supergirl arrives ready to punch somebody in the face and blast them with her vagina.

Some of you might be new to my reviews so I should remind you that there are around four thousand previous entries. I will occasionally refer back to that library of work. When doing so, I will probably confuse the new people and they might think, "Well, that was rude and sexist." I don't mind. It goes with the territory. But if I know there is at least one old school reader who remembers how often we saw Supergirl FWAAAASH an enemy with her exploding vagina, I'm content. Also, remember how Superman stole Supergirl's exploding vagina power? But he couldn't handle it and it always made him lose his powers for twenty-four hours? What a non-pussy.

As an aside, I think Dove of Hawk and Dove was the first character to use the vagina attack in The New 52.

We get to see a little bit more of the moment Lois and Jon disappeared and while, last time, I thought, "Has Brainiac decided to become a giant robotic caterpillar?", this time I'm left thinking, "Holy fuck. Mister Mind kidnapped them?" Now, sure, Mister Mind is a little bitty caterpillar thing. But it seems maybe now he's a full grown humanoid who rides around in a robotic caterpillar mechazoid. I could be wrong but I'm probably not. I am a Grandmaster Comic Book Reader, after all. Plus, if I am wrong, I have a catalog of four thousand reviews to obfuscate and hide my failures. Nobody will remember this one! I mean, how many people remember how adamantly I proclaimed Harvest was Red Robin from the future who had been turned into a vampire? Like probably nobody, right?

And, also, Harvest absolutely was Red Robin from the future who had been turned into a vampire.

Rogol Zaar leads Superman and Supergirl back to Metropolis so they can have a big street battle. I guess Rogol Zaar wants to remind everybody of Doomsday as well.

Rating: When a big name comic book writer is lured over to another company to shake things up, I always imagine the editors need to offer up something to sweeten the deal. Sure, Bendis was probably excited to take lead on Superman for a bit. Who wouldn't want to write Superman? I mean aside from all the writers who have written him whom you could tell weren't really interested in writing him. I would name some but you all remember how much I can't stand Scott Lobdell's writing.

Editors: "Look. If you sign this contract, we'll let you bring Ambush Bug back into mainstream DC continuity."
Bendis: "I was going to do that anyway."
Editors: "You can have your own creator owned title! Just please fix Superman for us!"
Bendis: "I can get that at Image any time. But I'll take that too. I just need a little more."
Editors: "What if we let you change the entire history of Krypton's destruction?!"
Bendis: "Wait. Weren't you expecting that from me? Look, guys, you really need to sweeten this deal before I let you suck my dick while fingering my asshole?"
Editors: "You can kill Kandor!"
Bendis: "Oh. OH. Oh yeah. Okay. Also, never mind the dick sucking because I just came in my pants so hard."

That wasn't a standard comic book review rating but it's all I got. Sue me. But not for sexual harassment because you might win that lawsuit. Sue me for something frivolous and dumb that will immediately get thrown out of court, forcing you to pay for my lawyer's fees. Also my lawyer will be me so if you want to skip all the hassle, you can just cut me a check.


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Poetry Corner with Grunion Guy!


Civility

As the blood ran down my nose, I looked him dead in the eye and said, "Fucker."
Mrs. Marshall grabbed my arm and hissed, "There's no call for that kind of language."
And so I spent detention seated across from my schoolyard bully.


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Grunion Guy's Musical Corner of Music Reviews!


Revolution 1 by The Beatles
Isn't it interesting that a song about revolution on an album exclusively referred to as the "white album" sung by a group of four white males would have the lyrics "Don't you know it's gonna be all right"? Of course a bunch of white guys are going to say that, whether or not the song is calling for violent revolution. I mean, I know they say "You can count me out" but then they also quickly say "in" so I'm confused.
     Actually, I'm not totally convinced this song has anything to do with revolution at all. I think this is just a list of retorts Lennon thought up to say to peace activists on the street bothering him about signing their petitions. "Oh, you say you've got the solution? Let's see the plan? No? Well fuck off then, mate." "Oh, you want some of my money? I'm doing my own thing to save the world that you don't know about, buddy! Shove off!"
     It's also possible that I'm letting my own feelings interfere with an objective review of this song. I guess it doesn't really matter because does this song need any new commentary about it? At least it isn't Revolution 9!
Grade: B+.


Number One by Ookla the Mok
If you're really into Star Trek: The Next Generation-themed songs and songs about needing to poo, this song is the nexus of your loves. The premise of the song is that, upon being assigned to the Enterprise, William Riker discovers that it doesn't have any bathrooms and he must hold in his shit for seven years. This becomes the basis for Riker's entire arc of The Next Generation. It's why he becomes fat and bloated. It's why he grows a beard. It's why he's always so short with Wesley Crusher. It's the origin story for his evil transporter twin. The guy just can't relieve himself! I'm laughing just thinking about how "Number One" is what Riker is called as the first officer and how "number two" is slang for pooing! Another highlight of the song is how Riker says if he can't go soon, he'll have to "boldly go where no one's ever gone before!" Get it?!
     Another cool thing about this song is the way it'll force you to constantly regard Jonathan Frakes' acting as a result of his needing to poop so badly. It really makes an already pretty good show shine in the way that, if you love playing tennis, playing tennis is fun but then you play tennis on acid and it's super-duper fun because you're also laughing maniacally the whole time and feeling like maybe you have to pee but you're not quite sure and also you get to know the meaning of life for a few hours. Well, maybe it's not just like that but it's similar in the way that Kermit's voice by Jim Henson is similar to Kermit's voice by Steve Whitmire. I didn't know that's the person who took over for Jim until this moment because I'm not as obsessed with Kermit as that stalker Miss Piggy.
Grade: B+ (Yes, it's just as good as Revolution 1!)


Questions in a World of Blue by Julee Cruise
Last year while I was hopped up on medicinal cannabis in chocolate form, my friend Upright and I discussed the third season of Twin Peaks. While I wouldn't say we figured it out, I think we were on the right track. We came to the conclusion that a large part of the series was a dream. But not just one person's dream. These were the dreams of all the main characters from the series. Eventually, though, they did all merge into Laura's dream to defeat Bob. Or whatever that thing that was bigger and more evil than Bob was called. But, being that Lynch decided not to end it there (presumably because Mark Frost wanted to end it there and Lynch needed to point out to Mark Frost, one more time, that Lynch's dick was much bigger than Frost's), the results of the final battle were more than a little bit ambiguous.
     Some people will believe that making everything a dream is an easy out. But it's not like Lynch just went, "Hey! All this stuff never really happened! It was all a dream! Ha ha!" No, Lynch believes the dream is the most important thing. He says as much in the series. But I'm digressing and I don't want to digress into a discussion of Twin Peaks: The Return because I'll never come back from that. I just wanted to describe the moment I knew — absolutely and positively knew — that every single thing in the show was a dream: it was when James was allowed to sing on stage at The Roadhouse. Plus remember how that one woman said James was cool? Like that has ever been said ever in any discussion of Twin Peaks ever. Lynch knew that would be a signal to people that it was a dream! "James? Cool?! What the fuck is going on here?!" Plus by the end, even in his own dream, James knows he isn't man enough to be the hero. So he dreams up a ridiculous British guy with a super glove to save the day instead! James is cool? No, no. James is a fucking disgrace.
     But that's not about this song. This song is sad and lovely and I'd probably be crying now if I hadn't paused it to think about James. Here's another thing I thought about James: I bet James is the exception to Internet Rule #34.
     Now I want to discuss Fire Walk With Me as well! I mean, I don't want to discuss it so much that I'm going to put the work in writing an essay about it.
Grade: A.


Good Clean Fun by The Monkees
I just came up with a theory. That theory is that The Faint's "Southern Belles in London Sing" was written as a response to this song. I think if somebody could do a mashup of these two songs, it would probably work better than when I try to play one on YouTube and the other on my iTunes! Being that I don't really understand music or music theory, I can't vouch for those two songs sounding good when mixed together. My theory stems from the fact that Southern Belles is about a person waiting for somebody to arrive on a plane while Good Clean Fun is about a person on plane arriving to a person waiting for them!
      I didn't say it was a good theory. But it is an okay song.
Grade: C+.


The Kindness of Strangers by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds
Sometimes you just feel like listening to a song where a lonely lady is murdered while just trying to make some human contact. When that's the case, you can just pick up any old Nick Cave song at random and play one of his songs because they're all composed of that sort of tone. But if you want something a little more specific, this is the song you were thinking of.
     This song is also a good example of negging. Dick Slade probably couldn't have killed and raped Mary Bellows if he'd pursued her like a normal person. Instead he's just all, "Look how charming I am! I don't even care if you don't want to fuck me! I'm just going to leave you here to think about my wink goodbye and the five times I 'actuallyed' you while helping with your luggage!" And Mary Bellows was all, "You know what? I know I've masturbated myself to sleep every night of my adult life but I'm currently on an adventure to see the ocean! Tonight, I'm going to get laid!" And she does get laid! Probably. It's not really clear on that point. I suspect the reason Dick killed her after handcuffing her to the bed could be because Dick was impotent and Mary said, "What the fuck is wrong with your tallywacker? Stiffen that floppy monster up, you big nerd!" Then he was all, "Oh man! You just justified my hatred for women which totally wasn't a thing until just now no matter what every single one of my actions and Internet posts up until this point indicate! Now you'll get yours!"
      Some of you might be thinking, "Where did this whole impotency theory come from?" as if I just loved to spout random things that make no sense. I mean, I do love to do that! But sometimes I use logic to come up with my theories (like how Harvest was really Red Robin from the future after he'd been turned into an impotent vampire). His name is Richard Slade. A nickname for Richard is Dick. Slade is a flat grassy area. Like a vagina! So the opposite of a boner! Quid pro ex temper sum laude, bitch!
Grade: B-.


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Jesus, it's getting late! And wordy! I guess it's time to go! Later, jerkos!

Tuesday, March 31, 2026

A Poem

 Your fuzzy thoughts of post-Madonna yesterdays
Have little to do with your vanished passion.
Your borderline thinking and corduroy dreams
Have you as neurotic as a two-headed Michael Jackson.
Forget the therapist, child.
Who can know how far into Marilyn monster secrets
You are willing to hide.
Like Freud says. . .
No!
Like Oprah says,
"We need to unite our father atheist with our mother Pope."
That Loch Ness hate you harbor in the Jungian litter box of your soul
Makes me rot like a hooker Queen with a neutered Kennedy.
An alien abduction of Bigfoot's butt is the anatomy of your runaway life.

A Poem

 listen listen
let that dog explode
coax the blisters
from her sacred yellow sanctuary
struggle with her secret admonition
the observation, firmly murmuring

between spring and winter
there shined a light
she used to know it
but you caught it for yourself

Friday, February 27, 2026

Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea: The Newsletter #23 (Second Week of May 2018)

E!TACT! #23
Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles #5, Deathstroke #31, Batman #46, DC Nation #0, Poetry Corner, Grunion Guy's Musical Corner of Music Reviews, and No Letters to Me!
By Grunion Guy


Comic Book Reviews!


Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles #5
By Russell, Stilwell, Feehan, Vazquez, Parsons, Marzan Jr., Mounts, and Campbell

You know that feeling when a close friend doesn't like something you love? That feeling that insinuates itself into the heart of your being no matter how illogical or petty you know you're being simply because your friend didn't express the same unbounded joy for that cherished thing? That moment when you first realize they're the dumbest asshole on the planet and how could you ever have been friends with them for thirty wasted years? I have that feeling all of the time. But I don't express it because that would be crazy! I just marinate in small resentments, updating my will at every turn. Someday they'll all know what fucking stupid morons they all were!

People are legally obligated to listen to your will read by a stern lawyer, right? Is that a law or do I need to call some lawmakers to make sure that's a thing before I die? Because these so-called friends aren't getting off so easy, relaxing in their pleasant lives without a care in the world that they only half-listened to me when I was telling them about Elfquest in sixth grade and then didn't ask to borrow it so they could share in my enthusiasm for attractive elves riding powerful wolves! I wonder if I can force everybody to play Wizardry at my funeral while listening to Concrete Blonde and drinking Strawberry milk? Also I wish I loved more things so it doesn't sound like I stopped enjoying life at twelve years old!

In the non-hyperbolic reality outside of my blog and newsletter, I'm not the one who stopped enjoying things the way they were when I was twelve. But I'm also not the type of person who's an overblown fan desperately trying to prove how much they love the things they love. When Wil Wheaton says, "You're not a nerd because of the things you love but how you love them," I just want to grab him by the lapels and scream, "Stop encouraging them!" We have become a society where the thing you love must somehow remain the thing it was at the moment you began loving it (and you must also be the only one that loves that thing as much as you love that thing because obviously nobody else understands it the way you do (although you hate them for not understanding it the same way. How can they not?! (But then if they said they did, you'd think to yourself, "Pshaw. Poseur."))). We have no room for change or disappointment or different interpretations of our beloved (and static!) popular culture. When somebody posts on Facebook that they literally cried over the cancellation of Brooklyn Nine-Nine or that they will forever mourn it, I want to get them a book on evolution and a box of nipple clamps. I haven't yet proved that the retention of information from reading increases exponentially with nipple pain but my hopes are high (and my nipples bleeding).

When did we become a society that can't handle simple change while expecting such great change from civilization at large? How can we blame something like the House Un-American Activities Committee shitting themselves from their intense fear of a changing world when we can't even handle living with only five seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine?! How can we scoff at gun enthusiasts afraid that reasonable gun control won't wind up in the loss of all of their beloved weapons when we fucking lost our minds at only one season of Firefly?! Being a 2nd Amendment Freedom Fighter seeing news reports on another school shooting is probably exactly like being a Firefly fan who has to endure the death of Wash just to get the movie Serenity. Was it worth it?! That's an unanswerable philosophical conundrum!

I mean, sure, it can be frustrating having great popular culture killed by corporate monsters who can't understand art because it speaks to the struggles of life that they don't even know exist. But fans need to ask themselves why they need so much of the same thing repeated over and over again? Because fans don't only get angry when a show is cancelled. They also get angry when the show changes in any substantial way away from the exact thing they had grown to love. And in a world where fans have instant access to the creators, they expect their voices can be used to maintain the "integrity" of their beloved fictions. Sure, I disliked Metallica's black album because it was so different from their previous albums. That just meant I stopped listening to Metallica. I didn't demand they continue to be the thing I perceived them as being. And I was disappointed that I never saw Concrete Blonde live when they first broke up but it wasn't the end of the world. I still had the albums I loved. And it only made it all the more exciting when they regrouped and I got more of their music and finally saw them live (three and a half times even!). I guess my point is that I'm better than most people!

Or what I'm really trying to say is this isn't your childhood Snagglepuss and Huckleberry Hound. Unless, of course, you always knew they were gay and that Huckleberry Hound would hang himself, broken beyond repair, in an unkempt cheap apartment in New York City. Based on the cartoons, I wouldn't have been surprised if some "friend" of mine had ever suggested that. Also there's some crazily terrific stuff about life and civilization and politics and culture mixed into this comic book.

Rating: 5 out of 5 Thumbs. I hate Mark Russell for reasons that aren't at all based on my envy of what he's written in this issue. Here's only one small part of some truly marvelous bits: the speech Snagglepuss gives to the House Un-American Activities Committee (which I read after writing the previous rant (I say this because this comic speaks to the nature of fandom and its relation to the world which I didn't know when I wrote the preceding. It's weird how often my pre-comic book reading rants seem to intuit the story within (although not as weird with this one because this rant began by thinking about how one reviewer I read was annoyed that Mark Russell's Snagglepuss had barely anything in common with the cartoon (and how is that a slight?! The cartoon was vapid fluff!)))): "The purpose of art is subversion. Art is telling the world how it's killing you. How its institutions have failed you. In the end, any culture worth a damn is made by subversives. Because art is what tells the world it needs to change. Power merely redecorates it." I may have cried while reading that. It might have been the words but I can't be entirely sure it wasn't the nipple clamps.

P.S. More on Snagglepuss #5 (which I had to add as a postscript or else I couldn't end with that nice little nipple clamps callback)

The Snagglepuss bit I quoted in the previous paragraph cuts to the heart of one thing I return to in my blog again and again: "Art is telling the world how it's killing you. How its institutions have failed you." My main complaint with the world is that it doesn't make room for those who can't simply accept things the way they are. I have railed against just about every expectation society seems to demand from me. I began reading Frankenstein for the first time last week and on the first day, I only read the quote used on the title page because it completely derailed me. It was from Milton's Paradise Lost: "Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay to mould me man, Did I solicit thee from darkness to promote me?" It stopped me cold because, ultimately, when I am thoroughly disappointed with the way people are expected to live, I rage against my parents for giving birth to me. And here is a quote from Milton (who I've been pretty hard on (not in a gay way! (I know that didn't make sense. I should work harder on my gay jokes (not in a gay way!))) where he's basically putting his arm around me and saying, "Brother. Let's commiserate." Of course, he'd be all, "God blah blah God blah blah blah God!" And I'd be all, "Why is so much of life all about interacting with other people?!" And he'd be all, "God blah blah blah God blah God blah blah." And I'd be all, "Why can't people see I don't know how to be a person?!" And then he'd "glare" at me and I'd have to think about what I just said and then be all, "Oh! Whoa, I didn't mean to be ableist in my speech, bro! I mean brother!"

I don't mean to suggest that I feel our current social constructs are such a burden to me that I can barely function. I've carved my own niche into the existing paradigm where I can mostly hide away and not be bothered by it. But I do suffer, occasionally, from a kind of social vertigo. It usually comes across me like a sort of anxious unheimlich (that doesn't mean a Jewish lich. Also, I don't know what it means. So, you know, it might mean that) feeling when I spend too long in a "socially normal" setting. I begin to see the world most people live in and how outside of their sense of comfort I have fallen. I see myself through their eyes and how my lack of the things they take for granted would worry them, or make their lives so radically different that they'd lose all sense of direction. And for days afterward, I feel those feelings as my own. It's one of the reasons I'd rather have my friend Doom Bunny visit me in Portland than me visit him and his family in Denver.

Anyway, I'm about to read Frankenstein and I think it might cause some feelings in much the same way Snagglepuss has. Did that sound dirty?


Deathstork #31
By Priest, Pagulayan, Viacava, Paz, and Cox

Rating: 2.5 out of 5 Bat-whatevers. I guess Batman and Deathstork are having another beef. But this time, Alfred and Wintergreen are pulling the strings. I guess they want them to get along? Ultimately, I imagine Priest is telling the story that will explain why Batman allows Deathstork to continue killing. It might be because Joseph will wind up being Damian's half-brother.

Priest's best new Batman idea is to have him explain his detective work in convoluted and unbelievable ways only for the reader to find out that the real detective work was something super simple. It's such a simple way to retcon the entire Bat-history, making every story you've ever read where you scream "No way!" at Batman's explanation about how he found out something (like finding where Catwoman lives based on mouse poop) suddenly believable. Now you can believe he actually found out where Catwoman lived by doing a reverse address search on the Internet for the name Selina Kyle.

But he still definitely pissed himself in The Widening Gyre #6!


Batman #46
By King, Daniel, and Morey

Rating: I like to think that every time Booster Gold goes missing in the DC Universe for months or years at a time, this story is why. He's off dicking around in another timeline. I doubt this entire story began as Booster Gold trying to get a gift for Batman. That's just his excuse to fuck with time and have an adventure. That's why he's enjoying it so much and acting so goofy. It's like he's in a theme park and he can go home any time he wants to.

I know I'm usually hard on the other review sites and the major fan-genders who run those sites but I suppose I can see why they might hate this story. First off, it's so absolutely outside of canon that, to them, it's not even worth reading. Of course by "canon," I mean part of a continuous and linear Batman story of issues they've chosen to believe were the most significant and not-written-by-Tom-King ones. Obviously this story will always be "canon" to Booster Gold. It's his story. Plus those types of fans take everything way too seriously. This issue can do nothing but confuse them since it's so violent and violence equals gravitas and chin stroking boners! But in the end, it's really just a whimsical sitcom starring Booster Gold as the selfish asshole who is entertaining himself in a world that doesn't matter. It's why he enjoyed watching Jokerized Hal Jordan shoot himself in the head. Because it didn't matter.

Playing "hero" in alternate timelines is Booster Gold's heroin. 5 out of 5 Skeets.


DC Nation #0
By A Bunch of People

The first story is a Batman story by Tom King. It's full of old jokes because it stars the Joker. Although he asks a couple of riddles which seems like maybe he's treading on other people's turf. Not that I'd complain about it to him since a riddle is also a joke. But not all jokes are riddles. And it's not like The Joker should have to stop telling jokes which are riddles just because some other jerk came along and decided to specialize in riddles. Anyway, it all works out in the end for The Joker, I guess.

The second story is a Superman story by Bendis. It begins perfectly with J. Jonah Jameson telling all of his reporters that they have to stop editorializing on Superman and spreading fear to the readers. Although if they want to write some scathing indictments about Spider-man, they should totally go ahead and do that. Especially if Parker comes in with a shot of Spider-man doing anything that looks suspicious (which is everything he does or why else would he wear that stupid mask?).

Anyway, it's about time somebody decides to quash the Superman Hot Take Culture that has sprung up in the DC Universe. Everybody suddenly thinks they're critical geniuses just because they once thought, "What if Superman were the bad guy?" and then shit themselves. Superman isn't the bad guy, guys. Let's just stop worrying about that. Although if everybody is going to agree on that, a whole bunch of writers are going to have to agree to stop writing stories where Superman becomes hypnotized or controlled by magic or infused with the Doomsday Virus or Jokerized by The Joker. Because all those "editorials" that J. Perry Jamesite has suddenly become critical of might have a point in a DC Universe controlled by lazy writers.

The rest of the story is some kind of prologue to Bendis's Superman story where he probably gets to rewrite any continuity he wants to rewrite (this prologue alone reminds us that there was a time Luthor was president). That's fine with me if it's any good. I hear he's supposed to be good. I am so going to judge him!

The third story is a No Justice prelude by Snyder, Tynion IV, and Williamson. That means I'm already bored. I bet somebody uses a word that not many people are familiar with and then somebody else defines the word and then somebody else mentions another definition of the word and that explains the whole premise of the story.

That isn't what happens (although Snyder does take the term "emotion" and use it to base the structure of the story which is pretty close to what I said he would do). But what happens is still quite Snyderesque. Once again, the entire universe is on the brink of destruction. The only way for the Justice League to save it from not one terrible alien threat but four Galactus-sized alien threats is to form four new Justice Leagues. Each team is based on "the four cosmic energies." And we all know what those are right? Right: entropy, mystery, wonder, and wisdom. Totally makes sense.

This prologue reveals that the composition of the four new Justice League teams makes no sense before fans begin asking, "How does any of this make sense?" Apparently not making any sense was the only way to fight the Omega Titans. But what's also revealed is that while all the heroes and villains are off saving the universe, the Omega Titans have come to destroy Earth. Whoops!

Ranking: How can I rank a book of three prologues?! It's basically an advertisement for DC's future stories. And I thought I was getting a comic book for cheap. What really happened is that I just paid twenty-five cents for an advertisement! Bastards!


* * * * * * * * * *


Poetry Corner with Grunion Guy!


A Poem

This is a
poem. You can
tell by the way the
lines are all out of whack.
Also,
Sometimes,
You'll notice weird capitalization and odd,
commas. Some poems
use analogy or metaphor to
engage the reader's emotions
in a way that bluntly stating the
point can't do.
But this one doesn't. It's
exactly what it says it is.
Or is it?


* * * * * * * * * *


Grunion Guy's Musical Corner of Music Reviews!


...And the Gods Made Love by The Jimi Hendrix Experience
I purchased Electric Ladyland because it was the favorite album of my online friend Groot. Groot is dead now. He died last year. I never met him in real life so his death is as abstract as it can get. He was always kind and always interested in having a conversation. Some people online just want to tell you the things they want to tell you (stop looking at me like that, mirror) but he was always completely interested in learning new things about his friends. We knew each other for over a decade before I learned that for a few years in the 70s, he lived in Santa Clara where I grew up. I was just a kid then so we probably never would have come into contact. But who knows?! Maybe we once rode in the same coaster on The Whizzer at Marriott's Great America!
     Anyway, Groot declared Electric Ladyland his favorite album so I purchased it. For the most part, I like it but in that appreciative way that you give space to a thing because you know a friend really loves it. It's not really the kind of music I can groove to. Not that I "groove" in the way you're probably thinking I might groove. I often skip songs from this album when they come on shuffle, especially "Voodoo Chile" because it makes me hungry. Also because, at nearly fifteen minutes, it's just way too long to listen to ("2112" gets the same treatment). I think you need to be on acid when you listen to that song because that's the only way you'd never know you were listening to one single song for a quarter of an hour. But no matter how often I don't really listen to any of the songs on this album, I will forever keep it on my shuffle because of Groot.
     Hmm. That makes Groot sound like a dick, as if he's handcuffed me to something I'd rather live without. I guess if you're a cynical bastard looking for a hot take, that's one direction you can go with that statement. But mostly I'll keep the album around because it makes me think of Groot.
     As for this song, it's not really a song, exactly. It's more like a statement saying, "Here comes Jimi, you stupid bitches! Are you ready? No, seriously. Are you ready? I don't think you're ready! You'd better get ready! HERE HE COMES!" Then "Have You Ever Been To (Electric Ladyland)" comes on and I'm always all, "No! I haven't! It sounds cool and sexy!"
     I just realized that Guardians of the Galaxy is absolutely never going to not be the saddest movie I'll ever watch because Rocket reminds me of my cat Judas and Groot reminds me of a tree. I mean Groot.
Grade: C.


Haunted by Poe
I first heard this song at the end of Blair Witch 2: The Blair Witchening. At the time, I had either already read House of Leaves or was currently reading it. I knew about Poe and that she had an album that was a companion piece to her brother's book but had yet to purchase it. This song has the lyric, "Here in November in this house of leaves we'll pray." But even before that, I was thinking, "Is this from that House of Leaves album?" because she just nails the atmosphere of the book. After that lyric, I was fairly certain of it and it wasn't long after that that I bought the album (Yes, Doom Bunny. I bought the album before you got me a copy. For awhile, the Non-Certified Spouse and I had two copies).
     This song does everything Blair Witch 2: The Goth Chick is Hot didn't do. It evokes emotion and atmosphere. It's creepy and heart-wrenching. It's mysterious and suspenseful. It also tells a more coherent story. I wonder if the writer of Blair Witch 2: What the Fuck Were They Thinking? sat through the premiere feeling pretty good about themselves right up until this song began playing after which they stood up and slit their throat wide open.
      Apparently Poe was thankful to Portland, Oregon for helping make this album a big hit because "Hey Pretty" got a ton of radio play on some local station. So she played a special concert in a small club (I think it may have even been a small bar with a stage!) that I was able to attend. How I managed to get tickets to this small show, I have no idea. I got just as lucky with my first Concrete Blonde show and then when I saw Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. When I found out he was in town playing The Crystal Ballroom, the show was sold out. But then he canceled the concert because it wasn't long after Bush went to war with Iraq and Nick Cave refused to tour America at the time. But I knew he'd be back so I kept an eye out for his new dates and got tickets when he returned not too long after that. I guess he needed the cash and/or America's declaration of war wasn't valid enough to keep him out of the country for ethical reasons.
Grade: A.


Triggerman by Alice Cooper
This song is from the album Dragontown which is really just Brutal Planet Part II. That's not a great thing because I wasn't a huge fan of Brutal Planet Part I (which was just called Brutal Planet). This album was released on September 18, 2001, which meant everybody was happy to forget about 9/11 at that precise moment. But after listening to the album a few times, everybody decided maybe the album didn't quite fix the world and maybe they were a bit rash in expecting an Alice Cooper album to cure all the ills of the world.
     "Triggerman" is about an assassin who doesn't have any body parts but he's still really good at killing people somehow. It's possible the not having any body parts is some kind of metaphor. Although Triggerman, who sings the song, also points out that he doesn't exist. So how he does all the killing, I don't know! I'm so confused. If somebody who doesn't exist kills you, are you really dead?
     Leave it to Alice Cooper to really get his fans thinking! Like after listening to "Cold Ethyl," his fans think, "Is he fucking a corpse?" And then after listening to "I Love the Dead," his fan's think, "Is he fucking a corpse?" Then after listening to "It's Much Too Late," his fans think, "Wait. Is this a religious song? Is that corpse fucker preaching to me?!"
Grade: C-.


I Am Not A Robot by Marina and the Diamonds
When this song comes on the Shuffle, I usually listen to it at least five times in a row before moving on to a new song. I just love it so much. You know how much you're supposed to love people? No, seriously, I'm asking because I don't know and can't tell you. But whatever that amount is, it's probably how much I love this song. Again, I can't say for certain because I don't know how people actually love other, real people. How do you love something that betrays every aspect of what you want to believe they are (which you projected onto them) just by opening their autonomous and sentient and stupid mouths? Stop proving that you're not worth the pedestal I've put you on, you individual! Be what I want you to be!
     Well, this song is excellent at being what I want it to be. It's perfect. If it were to be hit by a car, I would lie in bed for three weeks straight crying while declaring that I will never love another song again as long as I live.
Grade: A+.


Absorbing Man by Ookla the Mok
This song counts as a song a little bit more than that Jimi Hendrix song but not by a lot more. I mean, I can't argue that this isn't a song. But it's much shorter than "...And the Gods Made Love" by about a full minute. How does Jimi have a song that's basically a long chord (unless it's a robot goat screeching?) but is still longer than an actual song that has a melody and a verse or two? Maybe this is less a song and more of a joke that's being told with some guitars and some sing-song sentences? All this song does is point out that the childhood insult "I'm rubber and you're glue" only makes sense if the two people engaged in the rubber/glue conflict have the powers of Absorbing Man. There. You've pretty much heard the entire song. Just imagine that being sung by a couple of nerds who are actually really good at harmonizing and writing music.
Grade: B.


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No Letters to Me!

Whatever. Bastards.

Friday, October 24, 2025

A Poem

"I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I've a little business to take care of"
is a thing I've never said myself,
for I have no business to speak of,
and I have no love for chat.

If you were there, and I was too
(enervated by social obligation),
I would merely stand and say,
"I must be going, my cat's at home, and I think I need a nap."

Thursday, October 23, 2025

A Poem

"One must protest all common men who might
give poison to a child. One must contest
all use of slang. One must protest all spite
engendered by protesting all unrest.
Sir. SIR, I say. One must protest the sight
of shirts untucked, unpolished shoes, and messed
up beds left long unmade. One must, despite
all threats, protest all sins left unconfessed.
One must protest against the day, the light
that shines on only some. One must attest
to those unseen long covered by the night.
One must protest all those who won't protest.
One must protest the ones who close their eyes,
Who choose to dismiss truth and feast on lies."

Tuesday, September 30, 2025

A Poem

Veteran's Day
By Grunion Guy

Sometimes it's really good to pretend to care about something.
Loudly and exuberantly! Especially in a public place.
Because Veteran's Day isn't just about celebrating those that would give their lives for somebody else.
(Even if it's for corporate reasons that will result in a boatload (a literal one, probably!) of cash)
Veteran's Day is about each and every one of us. But especially the one of us that is me.
Because it's when I can stand up and say, "I'm the biggest fucking patriot in the room.
And you'd better not fucking forget it, you long haired hippie fuck!"
Oh, and don't mention gray ideas during this day because just shut up, asshole.
Also do not be a conscientious objector for any reason, at least not on this day.
Because nobody wants to hear how not supporting war is the biggest support of veterans there is.
At least not today. So just shut up already, you asshole.
This isn't about you!
Freedom isn't free.

Thursday, September 25, 2025

A Poem

They said I should not swim within the lake
But summer’s storm, so slowly rolling on,
Still distant seemed. I would, of course, be gone
Before some lightning bolt threatened to make
Water steam and boil, or maybe take
My life. I dove down deep, as if to don
The entirety of the lake upon
Myself. Embraced, a dream yet wide awake.
Now once again, the winter come, they say,
In warning: “The ice is soft. Do not skate.”
There were no cracks that could be seen. A sleigh
Had left some solid marks. It held its weight,
Why not mine? Below the ice, dark and gray,
Lay an embrace of a similar fate.

Saturday, September 20, 2025

A Poem

The bar is my altar; the bartender priest.
The drinks my communion; self-loathing, my mass.
The rickety stool serves as singular pew.
The padded edge of the bar my head's kneeler.
The choir are patrons; their hymns pick-up lines.
Then later the john, a confessional stall,
Where redemption comes in waves.

— Grunion Guy

Saturday, September 13, 2025

A Poem

Clubs
By Grunion Guy

I joined a club called "Fuck You, White Power Bitches"
It was a pretty easy club to join
It didn't cost me anything and I don't have to pay any yearly dues
Sometimes I have to speak up
So that, you know, white power bitches know I think they should go fuck themselves
But that's not too hard
It's even fun most of the time

The interesting thing about this club is that it accepts members from all sorts of other clubs
You can be both a member of the "Republican Club" and "Fuck You, White Power Bitches," if you want
I only mention that because it doesn't seem a lot of people in the "Republican Club" realize it
They seem to have a problem with the uncivil "Fuck You" part of the club title
When they should have a problem with the "White Power" people the club wants to go fuck themselves

I'm also well aware that some people have a problem with the "Bitches" part of the club title
But I'm part of the club "I Like Saying Bitches So I Refuse To Stop Saying It"
Even though it would cost me practically nothing to stop saying the word "bitches"
It's like how in high school in the 80s, I used to use "faggot" as a swear word
(Probably influenced greatly by Mark Knopfler's use of the word by his blue collar, computer animated characters singing "Money For Nothing")
Until one day, I finally realized how fucked up that was and, whether I meant it or not,
I was making the world a worse place by using that word when I could easily just be saying "shit"
Even members of "I Like Saying Bitches So I Refuse To Stop Saying It" are allowed to be a part of "Fuck You, White Power Dickheads"

You know what? I just decided to stop saying "bitches" because I thought about it for like half a second and realized it still costs me nothing to try and be a better person to my fellow human beings
When you think about it, it actually costs less to stop saying "bitches" than to have to say, "I'm using it in a non-derogatory fashion because language is fluid and shouldn't be a person-sized saddle we've strapped to our own backs but a tool we can rationally and systematically change over time" every single time that somebody within earshot hears it and looks at you horrified
It's much easier to not say it than to get into a debate about free speech with everybody you offend after using it
And pretty soon, you just stop using it which lowers the amount of systemic bias towards women by a small but not inconsequential amount

It's like every time you refer to a large black man as intimidating
You're increasing the systemic bias toward the belief that large black men are dangerous
You're actively making the world a more dangerous place for large black men
No matter how many people you assure that you were just making a dumb joke

You know what's even easier than not saying a hurtful word or continuing a harmful stereotype?
Decrying white power
It's actually much more work to have to explain why you won't extricate yourself from ties to white power every time you wind up publicly embracing some tenet of white power

I suppose I can understand how much you love trolling the Libtards with your 4Chan nonsense
It can be hard to give up things that make you laugh, like making up white power signs and then flashing them constantly
Afterward, you get to laugh at all the libs you owned by making them think you're a white supremacist
Because you acted like a white supremacist in public
Which is so funny because did they think you were serious? How dumb are they?!
Acting like a white supremacist and causing oppressed and under-represented people to feel intimidated by your actions isn't actual white supremacy!
I mean, it's the definition of it, I suppose
But if you think about it at all for any length of time, it was a joke!
Stop being so hurt by casual, jokey racism, you free speech haters
Is probably what you're typing right now on your Reddit board and your Twitter feed

Anyway, I have to get to my "Fuck You, White Power Dickheads" club meeting now
It's not a scheduled meeting, really
It's just me going outside my front door
And making the world a better place for everybody
Fuck you, white power dickheads.