Robin, Son of Batman #13

The Review!
Ray Fawkes finally convinces me that he's capable of writing Damian well. He may have done it an issue or two but I'm only now publicly acknowledging the fact. He had a lot of help from my crush on Maya. Without that, I might not have cared enough to finish reading this series. That's a lie. I would have finished reading this series whether I cared about it or not. Having horribly inappropriate feelings for an underaged fictional character just helped! The important word in that last sentence was "fictional". Now I'm wondering if Nabokov wrote Lolita so he could look at every man who ever read it and think, "You probably got aroused reading that, didn't you? You pervert!" It is a pretty awesome accomplishment to write something that should so horribly offend the social and cultural norms of the reader but still allows them to get all hot and heavy about the sexy bits. They're just as disgusting as the protagonist of the novel! Whose name I can't remember because his name wasn't used as the title! I would also like to say that I totally didn't find any bits of Lolita sexy. Maybe my penis did. But my mind was all, "Ew! Who would want a relationship with a young girl?! I can't even imagine having a relationship with somebody in their twenties at this point in my life! And I'm not even sure I could deal with somebody in their thirties! To me, they're all just unwashed twelve-year olds playing Dungeons and Dragons around their parents' kitchen table! No matter how hot they might look!" Also, A+ or 8 out of 10 or 77% or whatever rating you want to choose for this issue. What do you care if I liked it?! Formulate your own opinions!

The Commentary!
Damian has decided that to truly atone for his wickedness and bad behavior, he's going to rehabilitate Naimad! Err, Suren! Suren is currently the physical manifestation of Damian's bad attitude. Maya probably totally thinks he's hot. Except she's way older than him, by like two years or something. That might not seem like a lot but it's vast when you're eleven and thirteen. Or ten and twelve. Or thirteen and fifteen (although maybe not so much there). I really don't know how old any of these kids are!

Maya is super cute so if I write anything disgusting involving her and my seedy desires, just remember that it isn't my old, perverse man desires talking! It's the naive, innocent longing that still lives in my head which allows me to remember being that age! Boy, the things I would do to Maya if I were her age again! I'd sit and stare at her creepily! I'd avoid eye contact! I'd develop several different spontaneous speech impediments if I were somehow forced into a situation where we had to speak! I'd write down the lyrics to Lionel Richie's "Hello" on a sheet of paper and think about giving it to her! After I was through with Maya, she'd never even know I existed!

Oh Maya! You're so dreamy!

Sometimes when I was younger, I found it hard to know if I wanted to be with a girl (in an innocent, I have no idea what to do around a girl but my heart is dying kind of way) or if I wanted to be that girl. I wanted to have that power to allure boys like me! For some reason, I associated that power to capture hearts as only one that girls had. But I'm sure there were just as many girls my age (probably more!) wishing they could also be the cute girl I was pining for. So it wasn't so much being a girl as being a cute girl! And that thought just made my mind think of doing a parody Robert Frost poem that I probably shouldn't type but will anyway.

Bitches By Grunion Frost

When I see hot bitches bend to left and right,
Across the lines of taller, uglier girls,
I like to think some boy's been doing it to them.
But doing it to them doesn't bend them down to stay
As text-books do. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with books a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They clique upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stares watch the wind lift their hemlines.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed fuzzy sweaters
Plopping and tumbling on the snowy bench--
Such heaps of frilly warmth abandoned
You'd think a passing Gap truck lost its merch.
They are dragged from class to class by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bored
So bad for so long, they never write themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the mall
Years afterwards, trailing their jackets on the ground
Like birches bent over by ice from an ice-storm, their limbs
Before them on the ground, leaves darkening in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the text-books
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to "fetch the cows"--
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only porn was porn he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could jerk alone.
One by one he subdued his school's 'B's
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not propositioning too soon
And so not driving the girl away
Clear to her home. He always kept his poise
With the hot bitches, escalating carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he swung forward, lips first, with a swish,
Groping his way down through the clothes to the mound.
So was I once myself a doer of bitches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a loveless bang
Where your face burns and tickles with MDMA
Racing across it, and one eye is weeping (if you get my meaning)
From a "twig's" having jacked it off across the room.
I'd like to get away from maleness awhile
And then come back to it after being a hot bitch.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
To return me an ugly girl. Hot bitches are right for love:
I don't know who it's like to go better with.
I'd like to go by climbing a bitch
And climb black limbs up a chocolate trunk
Toward heaven, till the girl could bear no more,
But doffed her top and got me off again.
That would be good both going and coming and coming and coming.
One could do worse than be a doer of bitches.

Just remember as you judge me that that was a playful parody of a poem I love very much! It never even occurred to me to turn "Birches" into "Bitches" or how it might be manipulated to, um, sort of work. Kind of. Not really but remember, it was playful! The only reason it sprang to mind was the line about some fate half granting the wish to leave and come back to Earth when I said I sometimes fantasized about being a girl but, of course, realized what I wanted was to be an adorable girl. I mean, who doesn't?! Anyway, you either forgive me for that playful bent or you don't. Either way, let's get back to Robin, Son of Batman!

While eating dessert, the kids are attacked by some Lu'un Darga Ninjas. They're a little bit angry that Suren fucked up the world ending ritual because they had already told all of the people they owe money to fuck off. Now imagine how embarrassed they are to have to deal with those people again, seeing as how the world didn't end! I'd be mad too.

The Ninjas drop down dead, killed by some energy draining power from one of Suren's still living relatives. He or she probably should have coordinated the attack with the ninjas so that the ninjas weren't accidentally killed. Maya is able to trace the energy drain to beneath the crater in Tunguska, Russia.

Even in the face of unspeakable evil, they're adorable!

Deep under Tunguska, Damian, Maya, Goliath, and Suren encounter Suren's father, Den Darga! That probably means this story is almost over! Suren is about to come to term with his Daddy Issues! That's always the ultimate story in any DC character's character arc. I think Marvel must deal with the Mommy Issues. Is that why DC begins with a "D" and Marvel begins with an "M"? Did I just crack the comic book equivalent of the Da Vinci Code?!

Den Darga is surprised to see his son alive while the world yet lives. But I'm glad they had this encounter so I can point out another great moment in Grandmaster Comic Book Readerdom!

As I said in the commentary on Issue #12: "His father may or may not have loved him but he certainly doesn’t love him now, the little failure!"

Robin's great big plan to stop Den Darga is one of his dad's favorite plans: play the martyr! That always gets the girl! So Damian destroys Den Darga's Apocalyptic Battery of Souls but, in so doing, collapses from the strain. He's probably dead, right? Totally dead. It's not like Gotham and Gotham Girl could be bothered to save a fricking Robin.

Damian is only mostly dead and his spirit is able to reenter his body through the encouragement of his friends and the obliteration of Daddy Issues. I would scan the page where Robin cries (not letting his friends see his joy in being loved so well) but there's a really cute picture of Maya's butt on that page and I fear I might get creepy talking about it. I think it's okay to talk about it in this paragraph where you can't actually look at it. Also she's a fictional character and I'm going to believe she's thirty-eight years old. And you know what they say about thirty-eight year olds and their butts! Yeah, you know what. I don't either. I think maybe nobody says anything about that.

So, you know, that's it! The end! The kids win! Suren has defeated his father just like every child must if they're going to become an adult. I think that's why I'm still not much of an adult. I should probably get on solving all of those Daddy Issues and/or destroying my father.

I wanted to end with this picture saying, "So cute!" But the cynical, disgusting part of my brain keeps screaming, "Suren has a boner!"

Robin, Son of Batman #12

You know, it's been quite awhile since a hero was swallowed whole to explode out of the stomach of their attacker!

The Review!
Damian and his reflection battle with the entire world up for grabs. In the process, Damian learns that he's already learned everything that needs to be learned about family. He knows parents argue, pets are better than people, and cute girls in tattered dresses are the best kind of friends to have. He also remembers that he was once a terror, so maybe if he can take his evil reflection under his wing, he'll be able to teach him to not need his parents' approval too. Damian seems to have found a place where he can accept the relationship he has with his mother and father, and accept that they'll continue to argue and beat the shit out of each other on a fairly regular basis, and that none of that has anything to do with him or how much he loves each of them. He also realizes he can keep them both at arm's length because they're so annoying and he will probably go off on his own to form a team of kid superheroes.

The Commentary!
Last issue, everybody was headed to Dinosaur Island. That's the island that has dinosaurs where Superboy and Wonder Girl engaged in some really awkward flirting. Unless I mean disgusting when I say awkward. If you don't remember it, let me remind you in an inexact but probably close to the truth reenactment.

Superboy: (punching Wonder Girl in the face) "You're so cute!"
Wonder Girl: (kicking Superboy in the balls) "I hate you but I'm so wet!"
Superboy: (choking Wonder Girl) "If I didn't dislike you so much I would totally do it with you!"
Wonder Girl: (knocking out Superboy's teeth) "I would never do you in a million years even though I totally want to because you're so hot!"
Superboy: (orgasming in his pants) "I'm tired of fighting now, you whore!"
Wonder Girl: (not quite reaching orgasm) "You're such a typical guy, you bastard!"

Now that's how you force a romantic subplot into existence!

I don't think there will be a romantic subplot this time around on Dinosaur Island. Damian and Maya should just remain friends and Batman and Talia will totally remain enemies. So unless Titus has hitched a ride and winds up humping somebody's leg, this is probably going to be a violence only issue. Darn! I always like sex and violence together! That's a better match than chocolate and peanut butter.

Naimad and Maya arrive on Dinosaur Island first. But that was six hours ago and they're early because the ritual to end the world doesn't begin until midnight. That gives Damian and his family plenty of time to get to the island and the "NOW" narration box.

See? Grandmaster Comic Book Reader!

Maya has been turned into a booty trap. I know it's booby trap but she doesn't have any boobies yet. Batman remains behind to disarm her while Damian and Talia rush off to stop Naimad from doing whatever he has to do to end the world.

The ritual takes place at the bottom of a volcano. That's because there's some kind of Lazarus Well inside the volcano that reaches to the center of the Earth and keeps the dinosaurs on dinosaur island from dying. But apparently if you throw a goofy eyeball into it, it will erupt and destroy all life on Earth. Who built that feature into the Lazarus Well? That just sounds like trouble. And now it is because Damian fails to stop the ritual. Hopefully there's a second part of the ritual that can still be stopped or else this disaster might be the reason the DC You needed a Rebirth.

There doesn't seem to be any more to the ritual but there's still enough time left for Naimad to stop it if Damian can convince him that his father doesn't love him because he waited so long to bring Naimad back from the dead. Although how would Naimad know how much time had passed since he died? Wouldn't it just seem like he woke up from a short nap?

It's probably a good thing he didn't add "My father resurrected me almost immediately!"

Naimad has no confidence in his plan and is easily talked out of it at the last minute by Damian. His father may or may not have loved him but he certainly doesn't love him now, the little failure! After Naimad believes he's made a friend in Damian, Damian punches him in the face and knocks him out. I don't know if the rational side was from his dad or the punching side was! Maybe both parts were a little bit Talia and a little bit Bruce.

Speaking of Bruce and Talia, they have a nice bitter ex argument after the day is saved which drives Damian into the arms of a monster. Oh, and Goliath too!

Talia plans to keep Naimad for her own nefarious al Ghul purposes but Damian has other plans. Those plans are breaking him free and teaching him to be his sidekick. Those plans will also take place in the final issue next month.

Robin, Son of Batman #11

Why is Robin's doublet covered in semen?

The Review!
Tom Napolitano just nails the lettering in this issue. Every "A" looks like an "A"! And his "C"s look totally like "C"s! Not once did he make an "L" and an "I" run together so that they look like a "U"! He did his job so well that not once did I think that somebody was responsible for the lettering! His word balloon placements were par excellence! At one point, he even managed to use lowercase letters! I fucking thought that was impossible in a DC Comic! My mind was fucking blown! If you're into lettering as much as I am not, you will love his use of letters. They're just all over the place! It made me think, "You know? Without letters, how would the story be told?! What an important job Tom has!" Then I realized there's probably a sexual fetish where people become aroused when they see certain letters and I began to wonder if Tom would work in the porn industry. Then I searched the NSFW tag on Tumblr. Then I had a nap. This was an entertaining issue well lettered! Kudos, Tom!

The Commentary!
I'm angry that I have the John Romita Jr. cover for this issue because the regular cover has a gorilla and a pun on it and that pun is not "Gorilla Warfare"! It's "Gorilla in the Midst". Ha ha! So good. Although it also brings to mind the death of Dian Fossey so maybe it isn't the funniest pun. Perhaps DC should have just gone with Gorilla Warfare.

Last issue ended with Damian off to Gorilla City. Is Gorilla City still something fans find exciting? That seems like something that should have been left to the Silver Age when kids were still fascinated by talking Gorillas. Now that science has taught at least one of them to use sign language, the world has discovered how boring and kitten obsessed they are. They're just like us! How about if Gorilla City were invaded and destroyed by a bunch of Magic the Gathering playing nerds who masturbate to their Chandra Nalaar cards? Now that would be a scary and mysterious city. It would also be full of boring arguments about rules by people who think they're consistently logical but are almost always simply interpreting rules to favor their style of gameplay. God how I don't miss playing Magic the Gathering with strangers. Especially the assholes who would play all of their cards super fast so that if they played a card you weren't familiar with, they might be able to get past your hand full of counterspells. I suppose that's my fault for never finding the time to memorize every fucking card and what that fucking card does. Fucking Feldon's Cane. Piece of shit asshole should have lost if I'd known what that card did but the fucker was already shuffling his graveyard into his hand and by then I didn't want to have to punch him in the face in the argument that would ensue if I declared I countered it. Dick.

You know what? I'm going to say it! All Magic the Gathering players are dicks. They're fucking piece of shit monsters who should not be allowed out in public! Win at all costs nerds are my bane! No, they're my Bane! They may not have broken my back but they definitely broke my spirit. I'm a white male and they drove me away from their tournaments and their collector's shops backroom gaming tables! Christ they're assholes.

I suppose I could chalk up most of my bad experiences playing Magic to my own ignorance. Like when a player cast Winter Blast, a sorcery, as an instant to tap and kill my flying creatures that were about to attack on my turn to win the game. I only had one card left in my deck at that point so I was sure to lose. Except my final card was Ball Lightning which was able to attack the same turn it was summoned and trampled all over his cheating fucking ass! Once again though, I should have memorized every fucking card and I wouldn't have been manipulated like that! This was back when The Dark had just come out, so there weren't nearly as many cards to memorize. But this was also in the early days of the internet so even finding out about all the Legends and Antiquities and Arabian Nights cards that were out there was a bit of a chore. Which explains why I'm being so sarcastic about having to memorize every card, and yet not being sarcastic in that it's the only way to make sure your fucking asshole opponent doesn't take advantage of you.

I shouldn't act as if Magic the Gathering and its players are the problem. The problem is playing against strangers. Also the problem is assholes. Also the problem is asshole strangers who love to play Magic the Gathering.

I know, I know. I know what you're all thinking: #notallMagicplayers. But in this case, yes, yes indeed. All Magic players. Every last one of the stinking twats. And probably all the Yu-Gi-Oh players too!

That gorilla really hates it when somebody touches his weapon!

Robin has gone to Gorilla City to stop the Lu'un Darga from destroying the world. But he's trying to stop them from doing exactly what he was doing during the Year of Retribution. I'm not sure if Ray Fawkes completely understood the story he was taking over.

But isn't that exactly what you were doing during your Year of Retribution? Undoing your Year of Blood work? And, I might add, helping the Lu'un Darga while doing it! I guess once Damian's brothers were killed, he realized undoing the Year of Blood was ultimately a bad thing?

Also in the raid on Gorilla City? Talia and Nobody's Daughter!

Worst human in the world? Talia plays Magic?!

Damian, son of Batman and Talia al Ghul, discovers that his enemy is Bad Son, Son of Lu'un Darga and Mrs. Lu'un Darga. I wonder if the Bad Son's real name is Naimad! It would help make the point so ridiculously unsubtle that it ceases to be annoying for how unsubtle the whole "Damian versus a version of himself he could have become" plot is. I suppose Batman has had about five gamillion of these types of stories, so Damian needs a few too.

I don't know if this scene is supposed to show that Naimad is less witty than a high-schooler who thinks constantly quoting Oscar Wilde is the height of wit, or it's merely Ray Fawkes who has been exposed.

I already forgot that Naimad had mentioned his name was Suren earlier. I'll probably just keep referring to him as Naimad.

As Damian bickers with his new little playmate, Bruce arrives to send somebody into a timeout. A Bat-timeout!

I think Damian's dialogue should read "Faaaaaaaatheeeeeeer...!"

I suppose since this is the first time Damian has seen his dad since he became Batman again, he's toning down the whining and just trying to be happy to see him. Although Batman is still interrupting Damian's big day.

Naimad completes his task which means his family will soon be resurrected and the world will end. He disappears but not before Maya can hop on his back and go with him. Damian witnesses his mother and father getting along (a bit) and has sitcom dreams of his parents getting back together. As if Alfred would allow Talia to live under his roof.

Naimad has one last Year of Blood item to replace before Damian's Year of Retribution can be complete. Although by completing it, the world will end, so Damian needs to kind of stop it from happening. Even though he did most of the work himself. The last item to be replaced is something from Dinosaur Island!

Gorilla City? Dinosaur Island? Ray Fawkes does know he's writing modern comic books, right?

Robin, Son of Batman #10

Having wings that are an extra set of limbs is just weird. It's insectile!

Rating: Unchanged at 8 of 51 DC Comics. That means it's a decent way to spend a few minutes of your finite life. You know, if you're not busy doing something important like curing cancer or perfecting a Super Mario Speed Run.

• Does Batman disapprove of bullet points? Does he call them Bat-Dots? He probably shapes them like little bats, doesn't he?

• Robin has been trying to prove that he's not a disappointment. You know the kinds of people who worry about being disappointments? People with demanding father figures! I may or may not be a disappointment. Don't know. Don't care!

• The Robin of the title is Damian Wayne (just to clarify in case a Marvel Comics fan wandered in to this blog on accident. Although why the fuck am I clarifying that when, if they didn't know it, they're only going to have a boatload of butts more questions about it! Like "Who the fuck is Damian Wayne?" And "People actually like the Robin character?" And "What is the phone number I call to get this kid killed?"). Some people like Damian Wayne and other people don't like Damian Wayne. There are tons of other options but why should I list them all?

• Don't you hate when people say they're the kind of person that people either love or hate? They're so right! I hate them all.

• Robin has a new little friend named Maya. I think. Her non-secret identity is Nobody. She's a little cutie pat-her-booty. Is that how the saying goes? I'm also just going to assume that she's of the appropriate age to think of as a sexual being, depending, logically, what country she's in. I'm also reminding myself that she's fictional so she actually is an object and I don't have to worry about treating her like a real person. In other words, Nobody is a sex object. Powerful!

• Damian has returned to Gotham to hang out with his pets while the Son of Lu'un Darga has been resurrected by Damian's efforts to fix the things he broke during the Year of Blood. This is a common theme in comic books. The villain always has to be some kind of twisted reflection of the hero. Although, as of yet, I'm not sure which son is the hero in this story.

• I'm fairly certain Machiavelli came up with this quote while playing chess with a seven year old.

• People who are oft quoted aren't necessarily the geniuses the people quoting them think they are. They're just people who have been so oft quoted that other people think they should read the things those people wrote and then quote them to seem intelligent. If I were quoted more often, I'd totally be quoted more often! Somebody should quote me on that.

• The title of this issue is "Son is Rising." This marks the 18,000th time that that pun has been used as a title in a comic book. Probably. I'll fact check that later.

• Why did co-creator of Batman Bill Finger go by the name Bill? Do you think he introduced himself to single ladies as "Will Finger"?

• I sometimes wish I were female simply so I could wear this exact outfit. I would probably spontaneously orgasm from feeling so sexy. I mean, I suppose this outfit is just a sheet with a rope cinching the waist. I might be assuming that women feel sexy all of the time no matter what they're wearing because I've relegated them to being sex objects. I mean, the fictional ones, of course! Ha ha.

• I watched last night's Walking Dead today. There was a scene where Rosita is pulling up her pants and it shows her bare belly and upper pubic area. The scene begins with that shot and the viewer doesn't know it's Rosita. My first thought was "That's a really sexy shot of Carl putting on his jeans." Seriously. I thought it was Carl.

• Some people might not think I'm a feminist because I still joke about treating women like sex objects. On the other hand, I'm reading comic books which are 85% treating women as sex objects. So you just have to laugh about it! Remember that shot in Deathstroke of Rose's dead female friend? Remember how sexual it was? That's pretty much comic books. Even when they're corpses, women need to look fuckable.

• Damian has taken a trip to Bald Headed Mexican, Mexico. That's a reference to Leave it to Beaver.

• In the earlier seasons, Leave it to Beaver had more continuity problems than DC's New 52.

• Oh! I was supposed to be writing a bullet point about Robin in Mexico. He's gone there to save the world! Meanwhile, Maya's beach in Bronisia is being attacked by Jet-Skiing Ninjas.

• I guess Robin would have been upset if somebody else returned the thing he stole during the Year of Blood. It's his Year of Redemption! Not some artifact stealing thief's!

• Robin didn't know the kind of chaos he was causing by returning the items he stole during the Year of Blood. But now he seems to know that returning certain items will cause all kinds of chaos. Well, one specific kind of chaos which is the end of the world.

• Talia is the leader of the ninjas attacking Maya. Is it weird that I want Talia and Maya to kiss? I hope the next DC movie is Talia vs Maya. Then I know it's okay to want them to kiss because that's all I see people hoping for in Batman vs Superman.

• Talia's yacht is called the Hunky Dory. I don't think she has the sense of humor to own a yacht like that. There's a reason she fell in love with that sourpuss Batman.

• Talia, like Damian, is trying to stop the three artifacts stolen from Damian's vault from being returned to their rightful, world-ending places.

• Damian's thematic doppelganger (and quite possibly his literal doppelganger!) is headed to the next location: Gorilla City! Oh man! I hope next issue is called "Gorilla Warfare"!

Gotham by Midnight #12

The orgy from last issue's cover has gone horribly awry.

At the end of the last issue, The Spectre was about to get laid. It's about time. That angry asshole has really needed it. But who wants to fuck an angry asshole, right? That's why they get angrier and angrier until their testosterone builds up to lethal levels and they go on a shooting rampage. That isn't a joke. It would be a pretty shitty joke if it was! Angry assholes who can't get laid and somehow think they're nice guys are the most dangerous people in America (after cops (who might also be angry assholes who aren't getting any sex)). America would be much safer with a well-regulated sex industry and a softening of the stigma of "having to pay for it." What's wrong with paying for sex anyway?! It's not like guys who see women as objects are going to stop seeing women as objects because other people tell them it's wrong to do so. It's better they have sex with a professional who only has to deal with them between payment and coming than have them harassing amateur objects in bars and clubs and libraries and on the street and in coffee shops. Why would any guy who sees women as objects want to spend any time wooing an object anyway? No wonder they're so angry! If I knew I had to somehow charm my torch lamp by convincing it I wasn't the insane monster I really was just to get it to light up my room every single day, I'd get more and more pissed, week after week! Stupid torch lamp! I control you! You have to do what I want by giving me what I need!

Also have they not heard of masturbation? It's great! Now I want to read a comic book where The Phantom Stranger walks in on The Spectre jerking off.

Inappropriate! Because now I'm going to wank to a picture of a sexy nun.

I guess in comic books, even nuns need to be sexy. Especially if they want a nice guy to consider them as an object! What do women who can't get laid do when their efforts fail? Do they suck it up and go home with the homely guy in the cape with the dice bag attached to his belt? Or do they just call it a night and write in their diary about all of the guys who would have gotten their brains fucked out if they hadn't been complete assholes masquerading as nice guys? "Dear Diary. I met a guy tonight whose face could have totally been converted into a vagina rest if he'd simply bought me a drink and begun a conversation instead of asking if I'd buy him a drink and then railing about how unfair it was that men always had to buy the free drinks and then never get anything in return for their minimal efforts at getting to know a stranger. He might as well have been wearing a badge that read 'I am lousy at sex!' Was that seriously his game or did his game just go off the rails right from the start? Oh Diary. I wish you had a penis! Oh? You do? It's in the nightstand?! You smooth talker you!"

Here's an exciting twist that happens in this story: Commissioner Batman's Honey Bunny Bat Armor locks up! Wow! That's never not happened before! Seriously. It's never not yet happened. In other non-double negative words, it always fucking happens. Always. Every time. The Honey Bunny Bat Armor is an utter failure and should be retired immediately before Commissioner Gordon is killed not by a super villain but by a simple malfunction.

Sister Justine, the Nun of the Narrows, calms the Spectre down enough for Jim Corrigan to clear his head and realize what's going on. Gotham broke its truce with Angry Mister Toad and it's come back to say, "Hey. White guys? Could you maybe--just, you know, one time?--keep your fucking word? I mean, I understand it's hard to not do whatever you want to fulfill your own desires no matter what the cost to other people. But, like, when you say one thing and do five thousand others that completely disregard the one thing you said you'd do? Kind of hurtful, man."

Drake has become maudlin.

The Spectre declares that Gotham is sick and cannot be cured. Good thing Bruce Wayne isn't around to hear this declaration! He'd punch The Spectre in the face until Gotham was healed. Sister Justine asks, "What do you do with the sick?" Um. You say, "I see that you are sick and I acknowledge your sickness. Now please go in the other room where I don't have to look at you"?

The Spectre's answer is that you comfort them. Isn't that what I just said? Wasn't what I said you say comforting? Should I rethink my bedside manner?

Corrigan's answer is to ask Angry Mister Toad for forgiveness and to never forget the unjust dead. Sure. Like that'll happen. I give Gotham one more week before Angry Mister Toad is back bitching about the truce being broken. Again!

So basically Corrigan could have just played "Message in a Bottle" on some loudspeakers and everything would have worked out just fine?

The issue ends with the sun finally rising up over Gotham for the first time in 75 years. Hooray! Is it now time for a sexy Nun of the Narrows monthly?

Gotham by Midnight #12 Rating: +1 Ranking. The ending was a little bit cheesy but I've got to put aside the cynicism and appreciate some things sometimes, don't I? Due to the cancellation, the story felt like it didn't have as much time as it needed to wrap things up. The whole bit with Jim killing the cops was obviously going to go in another direction. But now the Gotham Police have to live with Corrigan getting away with a double homicide because he just saved the city. Commissioner Batman pointed out it was their fault anyway, right? Plus at one point last issue, I think somebody said to call the governor? That was probably to pardon Corrigan for the cop killings. The part where everybody in Gotham was now possessed by an angry spirit had better come back to haunt The Spectre because that's just fucking creepy. Just because The Spectre made the deal with Angry Mister Toad doesn't mean every citizen of Gotham agreed to it! Get this dead person out of my heart! There's no room in there because it's filled up with cats!

Seriously though. Overall this has been an entertaining series that has always looked great, even after the change in artists. DC could do worse than fifty monthly series of this quality. No, wait. DC is doing that already. I mean to say DC would be lucky to have every book be as good as this was. Was that better?

Gotham by Midnight #11

Gotham By Midnight has finally stopped being about the Spectre and turned into the late night adult television channel it sounds like it should be.

Last commentary I completely skipped doing a proper commentary and instead wrote an offensive screed by Death Rock. I guess I was in the kind of mood to simply say "Fuck the world." It happens sometimes. Plus it was less offensive than it actually seemed on the surface. I sometimes wonder if the people who say my writing isn't subtle are missing the subtlety in my writing?! Anyway, it was entertaining and made fun of Bon Jovi which goes a long way to making it palatable. And I made sure to point out that the soundtrack to Young Guns II was the best thing Jon Bon Jovi ever did. I hope the rest of his band doesn't feel hurt by that. I mean, Runaway and Love is a Social Disease are pretty good too! This week I'll actually try to discuss Gotham By Midnight since I'm going to read the last two issues in succession.

You know what comic book I just realized I want to read because my subconscious kept adding to the name of this comic as I typed it? Gotham By Midnighter! You think Batman's books contain a lot of fuckfighting?!

This issue begins with the quote "Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it." I don't normally fall back on "quotes" or "research" or "well-established philosophical suppositions" when writing but the doomed to repeat it quote reminded me of a recent adorable Tweet by Jemaine Clement. Somebody Tweeted at Jemaine, "How are people so stupid not to see history repeating?" And he responded with "Because as we have learnt from history, people do not learn from history." That makes me want to hug him in a non-stalkery way (which means I actually keep my dick in my pants).

At the end of the last issue, Corrigan and Drake exploded in a car or something. I only vaguely remember it because I didn't write it down. Instead I was writing about Death Rock calling his fists Bo and Luke Duke. This issue begins with the aftereffects of The Spectre suddenly not watching over Gotham.

Well hello there, Mister Angry Native American Toad Guy!

Angry Mister Toad is composed of corpses of all the victims of the crimes of the people of Gotham. It was talked out of murdering Gotham a number of issues ago by a nun who sacrificed herself to sate it. But I guess she was just an appetizer because Angry Mister Toad is back and Gotham needs to pay!

Gotham quickly turns into the New York of Ghostbusters when the city turns off the power to their ghost storage system. When will people in power learn not to tell paranormal police who are most likely scam artists that they're not allowed to do their jobs anymore? Because every now and then, one of them isn't a scam artist and by shutting them down, you're turning the city into Disney's Haunted Mansion. I've seen it way too many times to not believe in an afterlife! No wait. It's exactly opposite of that. I've never seen a paranormal expert who wasn't a scam artist. But this is a work of fiction and fictional people in power have seen this happen too many times to count!

I just pointed this out!

I'm about two steps ahead of everything I'm reading here because Ray Fawkes has written a story that makes fucking sense. So when I pointed out that Angry Mister Toad was composed of all the victims of the crimes of the people of Gotham, that was based on what I'd read in the past and not on the Narration Box that I read after writing that which read "Everyone who ever died unjustly in Gotham City is joining the army of Ikkondrid the Betrayed." Just like I wrote about the Ghostbusters thing before Lieutenant Weaver pointed out the city fucked up by screwing the Midnight Shift! This happens a lot as I read commentaries and I rarely point out that I beat the comic to the punch by a page or two and just let readers assume I'm writing a synopsis as opposed to writing fucking prognostications! But in these cases, the real hero is the writer. Like here. Ray Fawkes has built a coherent world that makes sense. Actions lead to predictable consequences. Also--I mean, let's face it--the issue began with the whole history repeating itself thing and this story line is basically repeating an earlier one. But this time The Spectre isn't around to save Gotham! And neither is Batman!

Okay fine. I got that bit wrong. I forgot about Commissioner Batman!

Commissioner Gordon earns more respect from me in one panel of this comic book than he's ever earned from me in over twenty years of reading comic books. Maybe that's because I never really paid him much mind. But when he finds out the Midnight Shift were probably killed in a pursuit by the police, he says, "You were supposed to leave Precinct Thirteen alone!" Such magic words! A manager who knows how to manage certain types of people by not managing them at all! When I ran the office supply warehouse at Netscape in the mid-nineties, my manager Mark once told the owner of our company, "Just leave Tess alone. He's got it covered." This was in response to the owner once stopping by and noticing I wasn't in our company's official uniform. Mark got it. Don't micromanage me and I'll keep everything under control. Some people don't need to constantly be monitored to ensure they do what they're supposed to do. And some people don't want to wear fucking uncomfortable clothes when they're hauling office panels and overhead bins around a warehouse all day!

In the middle of the chaos, Doctor Tarr is going about possessed by Spectre Lite when the Spectre explodes out of a crack in the ground. Corrigan and Drake clamber out as well. But not all is right with Corrigan.

Whoops!

The Spectre joins forces with Angry Mister Toad so I guess Gotham is fucked. Goodnight, Gotham! Goodnight!

But wait! Gotham has a new savior and her name is...well, I forget the name of the nun. But I think the Nun is the new female Spectre who really is an agent of God and working through Doctor Tarr! Now she's come to tell patriarchal Spectre to fuck off back into Corrigan's head. I guess I'll find out later when I read the final issue of Gotham By Midnight.

Gotham By Midnight #11 Rating: +1 Ranking. I'll repeat myself because we've got a doomed to repeat history motif going on here: Ray Fawkes is writing a story that makes fucking sense which is always about fifty percent of the work in writing a good comic book. I'm sure he had to change some stuff up since the book was cancelled during a story arc but a good writer will find a way to wrap that shit up logically and based on the world already presented so far. A bad writer will just point out that Voodoo wasn't really Voodoo because she was a clone of herself or whatever the fuck that mess was. I think the Blackhawks ended all fucked up too after being cancelled. I just want to reiterate that I like stories that make sense more than I like stories by Scott Lobdell who is obviously just writing down whatever the fuck comes into his head even if it contradicts something he wrote just three Narration Boxes earlier. What I'm asking is that writers just put some fucking effort into their work, you know? Is that too much to ask for in my comic books?!

Robin, Son of Batman #7

Damian is my hero.

Damian Wayne is my hero because he doesn't suffer bullshit gladly. I understand people of less than or average intelligence are desperate to claim niceness as a quality far more important than intelligence but it drives me nuts. Do we have to lie about so much for the purposes of being nice that we become saddled with dozens of crappy traditions that nobody really wants to take part in?! I just mentioned on Facebook that my favorite Christams tradition is shredding the photos of my friends and family's children two seconds after I've glanced at them. Yes, this statement is hyperbolic. Usually I just throw them in the "to be shredded" basket. But why is that a bad thing? Shouldn't I acknowledge the truth of what I do with pictures I don't really give a shit about? Is there an appropriate amount of time I'm supposed to pretend to cherish them before I destroy them forever?! Or are my friends and family seriously asking me to hang on to these pictures until I die?! They must know that nobody fucking wants this shit cluttering up their lives, right?! I can understand this tradition when things like fucking social media, email, and texting didn't fucking exist. But now I see pictures of your stupid fucking kids every day! Why do I need a hard copy of them?!

Other than that (and the smugness of people giving me gifts I told them I didn't fucking want), my Christmas was pretty good! I got my Kill/Death Ratio in Call of Duty up to 2.12 so that it equaled my Score Per Minute of 2.12! It's almost orgasmic seeing those numbers lined up so nicely! Also I ate a lot, read DC Comics Presents: Titans Hunt #1, and played Apples to Apples Junior with the Non-Certified Spouse, her sister, our niece (her sister's daughter! Just in case some of you internet trolls don't know the definition of "niece"), and the girlfriend of some step-something or other. I wish all these holiday interruptions were over already but now I have to have dinner at my dad's on Sunday! Christ, he's still alive?!

Um, anyway, this issue begins on the roof of the Gotham Police Department where some Talons have ambushed the Robins. It's a good thing three real Robins are in the crowd of Robins or else they'd all be dead in the amount of time it takes for me to shred a Christmas card.

Here's where the whole "no killing" rule really falls apart.

Batman and the Batfamily do not kill. It's practically the first rule, as Dick pointed out over in Batman and Robin Eternal. But apparently the rule has a whole list of clarifications and exceptions. Aliens are generally okay to kill if they're monstrous and don't speak Interlac. They might be sentient and have their own grunty language but to Batman they're fair game. Apparently it's also okay to kill the Talons because they've been reanimated. Does that mean it's okay to kill Damian or Jason Todd? What about Superman and Batman? Superman "died" once, right? And Batman is currently only alive because he's a partial Toymaster video game construct! I think. Holy shit that story was awful! No, don't get distracted by remembering Greg Pak's failures! Must list more reanimated heroes that it's okay for Batman to kill! Here's one: Swamp Thing! A monster and reanimated!

Some people might want to argue the semantics of "resurrected" and "reanimated" but have you read The Court of Owls story arc and it's tie-ins? The Talons are as sentient as any of the heroes I've mentioned who have been resurrected. Calling them "zombies" or "reanimated corpses" is just ignoring a lengthy philosophical debate on what makes something sentient. And I'm not even touching the rabbit hole we'd fall down if we brought stupid fucking animals into the equation!

The debate is actually moot since the Talons regenerate at room temperature. Luckily, more of those flammable barrels that were in the prison are also on the roof. As was sort of seen in the ambiguous art of the last chapter of Robin's War, the barrels contain some kind of freezing chemicals used to power the air conditioners! I think. Some of my jumps I take to conclusions are Olympic level. But if they are freezing chemicals, we know what they're going to be used for, right?! No, not huffing, cheeky monkey.

Oh. These ones actually explode as opposed to the ones stored inside which...well, they did something different.

Elsewhere in Gotham, Councilwoman Noctua continues to prepare Gotham for a Court of Owls takeover. And beneath the city in the layer of Gotham above Nocenti's Stupid Gotham Underground but beneath Killer Croc's sewers and the Gotham subway system, Dick Grayson has entered the Court of Owls' labyrinth. He's gone to find answers but he's really just going to find a trap because he's the one the Court really want. Tonight is the night Dick Grayson once again becomes Nightwing! At least that's what they're hoping for. I doubt that will happen because Dick is already in a really successful comic book that isn't called Nightwing at all.

But this is a Robin, Son of Batman comic book so Dick fucking Grayson can hold his giblets. Back at Gotham PD, Damian blows a hole in the roof and the Talons drop to their temporary deaths. All of the Robins (being smarter and more agile than the Talons, I guess?) manage to grab on to the hanging jail cells and not plunge to their permanent deaths. Riko mentions how she saw a Talon at Gotham Academy (probably in the Gotham Academy Tie-In I haven't read yet) so the Robins figure it's as good a lead as any. During the ruckus, Damian has disappeared because that fucking idiot must have forgotten about this being a Robin, Son of Batman comic book. I guess Jason Todd and Tim Drake need to fulfill their roles in this comic since their monthly comic books are ass.

Tim, Luke, and Jason send most of the Robins home because no reader is going to remember dozens of different names. Plus it's a pain in the ass to draw so many people. So now it's just a handful of Robins going after the Owls living at Gotham Academy: Tim, Jason, Luke, Riko, Dax, Dre, and Izzy. I think.

I append "I think" to a lot of my sentences because fuck if I can remember anything, especially names.

They stumble upon the Talon's hatchery when help arrives.

Elite Talons!? What the fuck are those comprised of?!

The Robins and Batman somehow defeat a room full of Talons without the Elite Talons waking up. Batman calls in the cops and sends the kids off to the next chapter.

Meanwhile Dick Grayson meets the new leader of the Court of Owls...Lincoln March! Oh shit. So he is going to be behind all the shenanigans in Batman and Robin Eternal, isn't he?!

Lincoln March declines to invite Dick to be the Court of Owls new superstar because Damian already accepted the position. That must make Lincoln March the dumbest supervillain to ever take an oath of supervillainry! Damian Wayne is playing you, you fool! You shouldn't be throwing Dick Grayson away because you think Damian is honestly on your side! You should use Damian's attempt at sabotaging your organization through treachery to help convince Dick Grayson that he has to be the new Gray Son or the Elite Talons will tear Damian apart! Maybe Lincoln March's stupidity is proof that the reanimated Talons aren't as sentient as I thought and it is okay to kill them. At the very least, Stephanie Brown is technically not a murderer.

Robin, Son of Batman #7 Rating: No change. I'm actually quite enjoying this Robin War no matter my tone while writing about it. I'm not really sure of my tone since I've already forgotten everything I typed on this page and am ready to move on to working on my Cribbage Role Playing game that I'll be sending to all of my Patrons as an end of the year bonus. So you should learn how to play cribbage or you won't be able to enjoy it. Although I'm having Pickle Boy write an addendum to the rules which are just the rules for cribbage. Mostly I've asked him to take care of that part so when the game is inevitably delayed past the end of the year, I can blame it on him not having gotten his part finished.

Detective Comics #47

I hope Maps was arrested too!

Commissioner Batman has been busy capturing Robins with the help of Dick Grayson. But he's realized that Dick Grayson is manipulating him to get what he wants so Commissioner Gordon probably has the upper hand. Unless letting Commissioner Gordon know that Dick is manipulating him is part of the manipulation? Can a comic book plan be that complicated if it takes place across different comic books with different writers?

I don't remember where I was going with the previous paragraph because something else which I don't remember caused me to look up Cullen Bunn's Twitter feed and I found that I'm blocked on it. I've never tried to interact with him so he must have just found this tweet linking to a recent review: "Sinestro #17: It's better so I've been writing less smack about Cullen Bunn's mom's decision to have a child." Was that too harsh? I feel like it's playful and somewhat elegant!

I've realized recently that I cannot abide earnest people. Why are earnest people so fucking earnest?! How am I supposed to interact with somebody so bereft of cynicism and facetiousness that they can't understand when I'm making a hilarious joke that's totally at their expense and really kind of mean? Although, in all seriousness (see how I typed that to show that I'm capable of seriousness and that I'm putting my serious pants on right now? Just so nobody is confused by this), I can totally see his reasons for blocking me. We may never have interacted (and if we had, I wouldn't have been mean to him at all!) but he's gotten so much heat from comic book fans that he shouldn't be expected to put up with ones like me who are totally charming and hilarious (even when I think he squatted over Aquaman's face and took a huge dump on him).

Dick Grayson has decided to confront Batman because he thinks Batman should help create an army of teenagers to fight crime in Gotham. It's also possible Dick just doesn't want the police coming down on the kids as hard as they have been. I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle. You can't have every teenager leaping from rooftop to rooftop trying to take down The Penguin! But, I mean, you have to have some teenagers doing that, right?!

But before Dick has that conversation with Commissioner Batman, the story has to jump back in time a few hours. Can't get the exciting part out of the way first! Unless the exciting part led to even more exciting parts! Ooh! Why isn't this comic book doing that?! Instead it's gone from big confrontation between Dick and Jim to boring work talk between Jim and Harvey.

The cops do remember when the Court of Owls were murdering all those important people, right? So why accept a contractor for hanging bird cages to hold Robins guarded by owl sentries?! And why the fuck is a barrel of flammable liquid being stored in there?

I guess all of the police (minus Harvey and Jim) must be working for the Court of Owls and the plan is to burn these children to death as soon as the Court of Owls gives the word. Why else would the place be full of explosive barrels?! Luckily Damian Wayne is already working on an escape plan while Jason Todd and Tim Drake distract everybody with their bickering. Unless it isn't a distraction and that's the only way they know how to interact with each other. I think it's that last one. The only time the two of them had a nice moment together was in Scott Lobdell's Red Hood and the Outlaws and I'm beginning to think that the nice moment wasn't as well-written as I thought it was because the two of them shouldn't have been getting along at all! That's too bad because I always felt like I could at least point to that one scene when I needed to believe that Scott Lobdell might possibly write something worth reading some time in the future.

Commissioner Batman decides to talk with Councilwoman Noctua about the Robin Laws but it's late and she asks him to meet her during office hours. Apparently I don't know anything about local politics because I can't for the life of me understand how this councilwoman has so much power! Where's Commissioner Sawyer in all of this? Doesn't she have anything to say about this bullshit law? What about the Mayor? No wait...he's corrupt. What about the District Attorney?! Harvey Dent would have been on this in two flips of a scarred coin. Actually, Harvey has contacted the District Attorney but nothing has come of it. I guess the Court of Owls have returned to their control of Gotham now that Batman isn't around to challenge them.

And then it's back to the fight between Dick and Jim.

Dick is wearing hypnos and Jim still makes him. If Gordon can recognize Dick Grayson's moves from all the time he spent around Robin, he definitely knows his daughter is Batgirl.

Back in the cage, Damian pisses off the guards so they decide to finally take the masks off of the kids. I'm just guessing they didn't have enough manpower or lawyers around to undress the kids previously. But now that Damian tried to blow them all up, it's strip search time!

Commissioner Batman and Dick Grayson decide it's time for another Batman and Robin team-up. They have both decided that the killing of a police officer by a Robin was a setup to get the ball rolling on this Robin crackdown. And they're going to investigate Councilwoman Noctua together. Nobody's talking Court of Owls yet even though a bunch of cops were nearly killed by a Talon confronting a bunch of Robins just a few days prior to Officer Darrell's murder. The battle was even televised so it's not like Dick wouldn't know about it.

And where the hell is Alfred Pedoworth?!

Back at police headquarters, the administers of the strip searches has arrived.

This was a bullshit reveal! First a shot of the back of the head and in the dark. Then Jason Todd saying, "YOU!" And then the reveal: a guy in an owl mask. Boo! Hiss! Diarrhea spray!

Detective Comics #47 Rating: No change. I bet the Court of Owls are pissed that this crossover is simply called Robin War. Last time, they had the marquee! They were the important players in the show! Now they've just got supporting roles. They'd better get used to it though. They're only as important as the Court's most popular member and right now their most popular member ditched them to work for the Birds of Prey and then went to work for Mockingbird. Now they're just a bunch of nameless Talons and faceless people who think they're important. The owl mask is sort of cool though. I wanted one but I'd already purchased all of the stories in single issue form and couldn't justify buying the Court of Owls Boxed Mask Set no matter how much I wanted to have sex wearing that mask. I wonder if I could bug Scott Snyder to send me one! I bet he has a whole shitload of them. Although I'd better not bug him on Twitter because I wouldn't want him to block me the way Cullen Bunn did! Should my feelings be hurt?! I never even messaged him! Hell, Scott Lobdell hasn't blocked me and I've actually said awful things about him! All I did to Cullen Bunn was criticize one of his mother's decisions in life and BOOM! Blockinated! I'm going to be so mean to him in my next Aquaman review, I tell you what! Petty revenge for the...well, not for the win, exactly. But maybe for temporarily filling the void within my soul?

Gotham by Midnight #10

I've seen this porno.

Hello! My name is Grunion Guy and I'm a huge pussy who masturbates while listening to Bon Jovi! His music is so good! It's like if a woman could play a guitar with her vagina! I'm learning a lesson right now about how I shouldn't assume food in the fridge that isn't labeled doesn't belong to Death Rock at all! Right now I'm probably thinking, "Being able to breathe underwater is the worst super power in the world when you've been strapped down with your face dunked in a toilet bowl just recently destroyed by Death Rock's angry bowels!" Right now I'm probably thinking, "I hope Death Rock's horribly liquid shits can supply the proper oxygenation of water so that I don't suffocate in this toilet bowl!" Right now I'm probably thinking, "Eating the last piece of Nice Alice's carrot cake wasn't worth this at all!"

Actually, that fucking turd better not be thinking that! Nice Alice's carrot cake is worth any amount of suffering!

If you're an Ed Sheeran fan, you may not have noticed that Grunion Guy's tone has changed. That's because this is fucking Death Rock and I'm taking over his pansy-ass website. Hmm, I notice he posts this shit to Tumblr so maybe I should clarify something that y'all probably thought was a compliment: a woman playing a guitar with her vagina doesn't fucking rock. It's the opposite of rocking which is sucking. Those are fucking antonyms, right?!

Apparently this fat fuck reads comic books when he's not fucking the crease between his mattresses. And not even good comic books like Heavy Metal or Barely Legal the Comic Book. Oh man, that should be a comic book if it isn't a comic book. Plus it should just be photos and not artists. And no writers because I don't have time to read when I have a raging boner. Although let's be serious. Who can get a fucking hard-on while reading Barely Legal? I need some fucking experience on my women! I need a woman that looks used! I want to see a woman who you know blew every member of Slayer, held the semen in her mouth, and then spit it all in Jani Lane's face. Hmm, I shouldn't talk ill of the dead when they went out like a fucking rock star with their veins full of booze. The day he died was probably the single most rocking day of Jani Lane's life! But seriously. I need a woman that looks like she's fallen off the back of a motorcycle once or twice! I look in a copy of Barely Legal and I'm thinking, "Go to fucking college! Bang your way to a degree! Read some fucking Steinbeck so you have something to talk about after you've licked out my asshole!"

I probably shouldn't make fucking assumptions about women who do naked modeling at eighteen. I don't want to seem fucking sexist! I'm a modern guy! I own a blazer that goes with leather pants! I watch that British show with Nice Alice! You know the one! It's like Beverly Hills 90210 but with butlers and maids and shit. Okay, maybe I don't pay that much attention to it but I do fucking sit on the couch with Alice as she watches it because I know she's into that shit. And then she'll sit through The Great British Bake Off with me. That show is fucking metal.

Come to think of it, there's a lot of fucking shit I've been having to deal with this century! Did you know you can't call stupid people "retards" anymore?! What the fuck is up with that bullshit? Look. If I ever saw some Jovi Lover calling a bunch of mentally retarded people "retards," I'd introduce them to Bo and Luke Duke real quick. That ain't cool. But when you run into some average Joe fucking up your day with his inability to put together a coherent thought, y'all expect me to say some shit like, "Sir, your ability to think logically is retarded in the strict dictionary sense of the word 'retarded.'" Fuck no. I just shorthand that shit to "retarded"! But no! Now I'm the worst! But if I beat some asshole near to death for calling somebody else retarded, I'm a national hero!

You know what? I'm all turned around on the retarded thing! I should moisturize Bo and Luke here so they're ready to lay a beatdown on some people using language incorrectly! I'll be a fucking hero! "Man-Everybody-Wants-To-Fuck Buff Hero Death Rock Ends All Abuse of Language Forever!" It'll be some article about how every time somebody Tweets some word that makes holier-than-thou assholes cringe, Death Rock tracks the Tweeter down and beats some sense into them! I mean fuck it! We all know the only word you ever need to point out somebody is an asshole is "Jovi Fan." How many more insults do you need? That expresses it all! I'm all for that shit right there. Besides, I figure I can clean up my act and still rock motherfucking hard! I stopped calling lame stuff gay a long time ago. That wasn't so hard though because "Jovi Fan" really expresses lame way better than "gay." Hell, homosexuals are less lame than most prudish, uptight white middle class people (also known as "Jovi Fans").

Nice Alice likes to say she's rubbing off on me but I think she only says that because it makes me horny. She still cringes at about 80% of the shit I say even when I'm trying to be sociable. Like, she'd read all the shit I just fucking wrote and say something like, "Oh Deathy! I suppose at least you're trying." Then she'd sigh really long and loudly to show that she doesn't really think I'm trying as hard as I fucking could but it would only make me horny. Nice Alice is always going on and on about how words literally cause rape and violence. I just let it go because I realize she's an alien and probably doesn't actually know what literally means.

Look at this! A comic book that totally kicks ass!

I think spending so much time around Nice Alice has changed me. I'm nowhere close to as angry as I once was. I don't mean she's fucking influenced me with emotional pleas and rational arguments. See, she emits a "niceness field" that's like a drug which calms everybody down and turns the most violent situations into huggy hippie lovefests. I think spending so much time up in her has made me about 10% Jovi Fan! Sure, it sounds like I still have a lot of stubborn rough edges because--let's face it--most people are still assholes that need, on occasion, to have a tooth knocked out by the good ol' boys (you know! Bo and Luke Duke! My fucking fists!). Back in the old days, if somebody would have whined at me that I was being inconsiderate, I would have punched them in the fucking stomach just so they knew exactly how inconsiderate I could be. I still think some people need some of that shit for fucking comparison. Although you have to admire how awful a lot of people who claim to be good people truly fucking are. I've seen people in moshpits who just had their noses bloodied and broken not go after the culprit as hard and fucking metal as some of these righteous people on the internet go after somebody who once made a poor choice of words! Fuckers can teach some old school bullies some lessons! Pussies today are fucking hard, man. Ain't no Jovi Fans out there fighting for their...well, fuck if I know what they're fighting for. If I had to guess, I'd say they're fighting to feel some kind of power in a world where everybody is increasingly losing their power in every aspect of their lives. But then that's the classic method of creating a bully, right? "My father fucking beats my ass so I'm going to find some dick who looked at me funny or said 'faggot' on Twitter and I'm going to ruin them!"

People today don't want to engage anybody in any kind of conversation because they're so obviously right about everything in their own minds that it's easier to just shut somebody up by any means necessary. I can't say I blame the fuckers. That's what I fucking did my whole life. You fuck with me and I'm not going to discuss it with you. I'm just going to introduce you to Bo Duke and be done with it. Then you'll fucking think twice the next time you open your fucking Jovi mouth. Fear is a wonderful thing, you know?! So much easier to scare the shit out of people so they act appropriately rather than convincing them to do it for the right reasons. It's also so much quicker. My fists have done wonders for my sanity!

Another reason my fists got such a fucking work out over the years? People fucking criticizing me! If they criticized me, they were automatically assholes and deserved a fucking black eye. Who needs to learn and grow when you're already right, you know?! Fuck 'em all! Act the way I want and everything will be cool. Step out of line and KAPOW! Time to visit the dentist if not the fucking morgue.

What kind of weird shit is Grunion Guy reading? Maybe he's not as soft rock as I thought. This is creepy as fuck.

I should probably go let that fuck out of the toilet now. Getting soft, I fucking tell you. Smiling too much for all the wrong reasons. Fucking Alice. Fucking Alice ruined me! But I guess I'm not complaining. I might be a Jovi Fan but I'm realizing that I like being fucking happy more than I like being angry. Which is why Grunion Guy had to be punished for eating the last fucking piece of carrot cake. That shit makes me pretty fucking happy. I'm also getting a fucking gut. Gonna be as fat as Grunion Guy soon if Alice has her way. And I don't even care! Fucking Jovi Fan is right. I mean, the soundtrack to Young Guns II kind of rocked, right?

Gotham By Midnight #10 Rating: +1 Ranking. Did I even fucking review this? What happened? Don't read this review.

Gotham By Midnight #9

Good night!

Detective Rook of Internal Affairs has finally decided that busting The Midnight Shift (aka The Spooky Files) for spending police funds on personal items wasn't going to be enough. Now it's time to shut the whole thing down because they're getting too close to the truth. At least that's why The X-Files were shut down. At first The Smoking Man and his government cronies were all, "Mulder is the only real threat to our schemes! Let's send him into the basement where we stash our porn and extra pencils so he'll be too distracted to stop us! And why don't we send that red head with the shoulder pads down there to scoff at everything he believes. That should totally piss him off!" But then Mulder began to get too close to their schemes while hunting chupacabras and Bigfoots and swarms of bees. So The Smoking Man was all, "Shut it down! Fire him! Give Shoulder Pads cancer! Clean it up and tear it all down!" But then fifteen years later, Mulder was all, "You can't keep us down! The truth will be known in a limited run story arc that will hopefully acknowledge that Californication was my life in the Witness Protection Program!" And Scully was all, "I hope this limited series will raise some interest in A Cock And Bull Story, available at local movie rental places and Netflix! Also check me out in Bleak House! And have you nerds noticed I just keep getting more and more attractive the older I get?!"

What was I talking about? The Spooky Files being shut down, right? Yeah, so that's happening now.

Sergeants Casimiro and Palmer have Corrigan in the interrogation room and they're ready to give him a non-paranormal case of what-for. Of course that won't work because he's super paranormal. They'll be lucky if they don't wind up damned to hell after this interrogation.

Meanwhile Detective Rook has his men tearing apart The Spooky Files Headquarters while Ms. Manhunter keeps him and his people in line.

Grand larceny? Pedophilia with intent to pedophile? Resisting arrest? More illogical things that they obviously wouldn't be arrested for?

Sergeant Palmer tries to pin all of the corpses associated with Corrigan's cases on Corrigan. But Corrigan is all, "I didn't do it! It wasn't me! I didn't kill any of those people or destroy Arkham or express God's wrath in any way!" But Palmer is all, "Tell that to their mothers!" Or something. That sounds like something an Internal Affairs prick would say. I suppose Corrigan can't get out of trouble by letting The Spectre leak out of his eyes as proof that he isn't to blame because then he'll just have two more corpses that will be blamed on him.

Meanwhile Doctor Tarr continues to investigate the Black Flowers. He declares that they're signs from some creature trying to help The Spooky Files to find the locations where evil will express itself within Gotham. Maybe they're from Black Orchid. Does she poop black flowers? What are her powers again? Does anybody actually know?

Detective Drake's interrogation goes sideways as she suddenly feels the need to scream. Black flowers begin growing on the door of Corrigan's interrogation room. And then God's wrath begins to awaken! Internal Affairs is about to solve their mystery!

Because God works in mysterious ways. Duh!

Then Detective Drake screams and somebody is royally screwed. I hope it's her slacker boyfriend. She really needs to be single so I can moon over her. Who am I kidding? She's C-list mooning material at best! I mean she's attractive enough but she's still a cop. And a banshee. I may be into dangerous fictional women like Vampire Tig but I'm not stupid. A banshee cop? Forget it! That's taking too much of a risk even for me.

Sergeant Casimiro threatens to ruin everybody working for The Spooky Files and that's the final straw. The Spectre pops out and points a single claw at Casimiro while Drake lies on the floor wailing away in the other interrogation room. Somebody is about to die and/or shit their pants for the first time as an adult.

Mystery solved! Also those two extra corpses on Corrigan's arrest warrant I mentioned earlier.

Why has this comic book been cancelled? It's chock full of Old Testament and that thing is pretty popular! I guess it doesn't have enough vague messages that can be read as God hating homosexuals.

Speaking of The Old Testament, I take issue with the bit about Onan being a reason for the Catholic Church's condemnation of birth control. That story isn't about Onan breaking "natural laws" by pulling out during sex. It only means that if you want it to mean that because your church Dogma has told you that it means that because they want people of their faith to have as many children as possible who will likely be brainwashed into their faith. No, the real reason God is displeased with Onan is because he breaks a contract where he stated he would give his brother's wife children so he could bang her. The story isn't about sex at all! It's simply about contract law!

Before The Spectre goes back into Corrigan's head, Corrigan asks it a question and receives the wrong answer.

Whoops! I guess Jim Corrigan is God?

Gotham by Midnight #9 Rating: +1 Ranking. Can I be speechless? Am I allowed, as a comic book reviewer, to be speechless? Well, fuck you. I'm speechless. It began in that panel where The Spectre emerged and pointed at Casimiro and then just kept happening until sometime past now. I don't know when it ended because it hasn't yet. Still speechless. Never you mind all the words I typed between the statements that I'm speechless. I'm speechless, Goddammit!

Gotham By Midnight #8

This Satanist just realized he carved a Star of David into his chest instead of a pentagram.

I have to say that when I began this blog, I didn't set out to be called a "pretentious fuck" but when it happened, it really felt good! Somebody thought mommy's little boy was "pretentious"! I'm true city folk now! Although the same person gave me some advice to "get off my own dick" and stop calling myself a genius. That's crappy advice because that's my whole shtick! I tell masturbation stories and write dick jokes about super hero comic books and proclaim I'm a genius! That's the whole joke! Right there! I'd like to think I've cultivated it into something more than can be summarized in one simple sentence after nearly 2500 blog entries but...well...who am I kidding? That's about it!

But "pretentious"?! I wish Grandma and Grandpa were alive to see this day! Now I'm all puffed up like that bird that puffs up its chest and has like a weird bare spot on it and looks super silly? Is that a quail? Maybe I'm thinking of a frog.

Anyway, enough about me (even if this blog is really all about me), let's see what spooky things are happening in The Spooky Files!

Well fuck that! I hate being tested! I can barely even stand my friends who love to play Devil's Advocate!

This is why I live in Portland, Oregon. Because nobody hands out tests out here! Unless it's the test about how artistic you are. Except even that test is too much of a test because at least 75% of the people who have moved to Portland in the last five years did it so that they would be considered "artsy" without actually having to put any effort into it. Some people say that Portland doesn't have enough jobs to support the influx of young people who don't actually want to work anyway, but I say phooey on that! I guarantee there are enough brunch places in this town to support the influx of new people as long as they don't mind taking jobs bussing tables or waiting on white customers indignant about everything.

Don't mistake "artistic" in the context of Portland as "having talent or ability to produce works of art." No, art in Portland is all about thinking up extroverted ways to express a simple idea. No grand paintings will ever be produced in this city. But you might stumble across a recliner facing a television hooked up to an original Nintendo gaming system set up on the median in the middle of some busy thoroughfare. I bet that installation garnered a whole bunch of high fives and envious looks from that artist's group of friends!

Although sometimes the art a person is appreciating is just a bunch of stuff left out in front of somebody's house from which the "FREE" sign blew away.

Why do comic books believe that huge televisions in crowded areas blaring the sound out among the populace is something that actually happens. Wait. Is it something that actually happens? Is this how Time Square works? That would be so annoying to anybody living in an apartment nearby!

Everybody in Gotham goes crazy and they begin brawling. See? That's what happens when you scream the fucking news at everybody just trying to go about their lives. I hope rent in the apartments just above that huge television is free.

Kate Spencer (Manhunter for those of you missing out on the whole "Predators and Prey" overlay while Kate stares down a tiger) is meeting with Sergeant Rook at the Gotham Zoo. It's the best place to meet for clandestine meetings. How come "Clandestine" hasn't become a popular baby name yet? Is it because people having children are actually a little smarter than I ever give them credit for being?

I was almost a father once! My sweet girl, Astird, would have been born on October 23rd, 2009, if Jesus hadn't aborted her the same week that the Non-Certified Spouse and I discovered the news. I didn't even have enough time to learn to love my little girl before drunkenly celebrating Jesus's choice to perform a miraculous spontaneous abortion! Praise god! He truly does work in mysterious ways!

Sergeant Rook isn't happy with The Spooky Files. At first he was just investigating their expense reports but then Corrigan almost got him killed while getting drunk at a bar, so now he doesn't just want to shut them down. He wants them all arrested! Why can't this guy just leave well enough alone? Doesn't he know Rooks are expendable?!

Of course Detective Drake is dating a slacker! I bet Pete's the type of guy who pulls out an acoustic guitar at parties and just noodles around with it. Is that a thing? Noodling a guitar?

Corrigan meets Doctor Tarr at the scene of the riot and discovers that the GNN Broadcast is behind the outbreak of violence. I knew it! It's always the media's fault! They think they're so important! They believe they're keeping people informed while they're really chaining people to false narratives and altered realities! The world would be so much better without news channels. I'd rather people get their news from a distant cousin's rabid, misinformed email rants! At least then they'd realize the source of their news was psychotic as opposed to how they all think news sources are somehow trustworthy now. The media is hurting science the most. Because the media plays this game where they try to balance an issue and show both sides of every topic, the audience loses any kind of sense that one side is actually more correct than the other side. Arguments aren't perfectly balanced. Sometimes one side is just completely super-bonkers wrong! If the media really wanted to be as important as they think they are, they'd do research to actually determine that the side disputing scientific facts were actually ignorant bastards with an agenda and refuse to put that bullshit out there as somehow equal to actual scientific fact. Fuck the media! And not just this crazy GNN outlet causing violence outburts in Gotham! Fuck 'em all! CNN. Fox News. NPR. All of them! Except maybe the BBC's news broadcasts. But they're so dispassionately neutral that they don't hold anybody's interests. They could at least throw in a few viral videos of kittens playing, for Christ's sake.

Corrigan and Tarr arrive at GNN to find lots of dead people. They also find the newscasters, Brooke and Walker, arguing about which one is the bigger news-whore. Jim almost releases the Spectre but Doctor Tarr shoves him out of the studio to deal with the problem himself. It's too bad The Spectre is such a huge prick that he can't be relied upon to solve any problem in Gotham. He might get a cat out of a tree but he's going to judge every fucker on the block as a sinner and send them to hell. But, I guess, at least the kitten would be safe.

It doesn't take Doctor Tarr long to learn the secret chemistry between Brooke and Walker.

Awesome! Now I'm going to picture this happening beneath the desk of all the local news reporters!

It turns out the two newscasters sold their souls to be super popular. So this was really about Sean Hannity, wasn't it?! Anyway, Brooke kills Walker and then dies because it's not a good idea to kill a person you're inextricably linked to physically.

When Tarr exits the studio, he discovers more of the Black Flowers all around Corrigan. He points out that they usually appear around paranormal threats and demonic dangers. Tarr declares he thinks he knows what they mean but doesn't say much about it because Corrigan could be part of the problem. The team head back to The Spooky Files headquarters to find Internal Affairs searching the place and Rook waiting to arrest Corrigan. That will probably wind up being a huge mistake.

Gotham By Midnight #8 Rating: No change. I feel like everything is coming together nicely this issue. The characters are opening up and expanding, the current paranormal problems are converging into a bigger threat, and Internal Affairs is about to realize that Gordon has not been protecting The Midnight Shift from Internal Affairs but vice versa. I miss the truly creepy art of Templesmith on this title but I think Ferreyra is probably more reader friendly and also looks great. All said, this is a solid and intriguing title that will probably be cancelled fairly soon because it doesn't have Batman in it.

Gotham By Midnight Annual #1

When did the Ghost have scary robot spider legs installed?

This comic book is starting off on the wrong foot by allowing a Hawkman villain to guest star. He might fit the bill since he's a paranormal antagonist but he's also covered in New 52 Hawkman stink. Pee-yu! As far as I'm concerned, the Spooky Files should go after, and destroy, Hawkman. Leave the poor Jim Craddock alone!

The issue begins with a woman telling Jim Craddock that she would die for him. No no no. Never, ever tell anybody that you would die for them, especially if you suspect you're in a story. At least know that nobody in the world is worth dying for (at least not consciously and in a premeditated manner). I suppose it's okay if some kid is drowning and you jump in to save the kid and then drown yourself because you actually thought you were capable of being a hero even though that wound up not being true. And I suppose if you're old and possibly riddled with cancer and you have the chance to push a young, virile, smoking hot teenager out of the way of a speeding train even though you know you'll be killed, you can throw your life away for that person. But don't go telling people you're dating that you'd die for them just because they make you super happy in your crotch area. It's better to live a long life full of masturbation than throw your life away for the best fuck in the world. I think. Maybe it's not? I mean, how good a fuck are we talking? I suppose if I found myself at forty-three and still a virgin (totally hypothetical situation, of course!), I might trade my life for the best fuck in the world. Although I might get scammed and only be given a thoroughly mediocre fuck because how would I know it gets better than that? Asshole imaginary scam artists!

Jim Corrigan and Detective Lisa "Not Dinah At All Apparently" Drake crash the imminent make-out session because they also don't believe in people making such grand declarations of love simply because a guy turns your pussy into a slobbering maniac. Detective Drake chases Jim through some walls (she has to go around) while Jim lets the woman down easy.

"He's a thief who never loved you! Boom!"

Jim Craddock gets away from Detective Drake by being super charming and/or creepy. But instead of just shrugging their shoulders and realizing they failed even though they did their best, Jim and Lisa decide to keep investigating the case. They're just full of stick-to-itiveness, aren't they? I realized I had to read yet another annual and I almost gave up reading comic books altogether!

How about neither? How about his intelligence and his brain and his ability to make logical connections between clues at a crime scene? No? Gut is better?

Detective Drake hangs out in the hospital with Eleanor, the woman who would die for the Gentleman Ghost, because Eleanor nearly died for the Gentleman Ghost. While waiting for Eleanor to wake up and give her some eerily obtuse clues, Lisa thinks about how her dog walker boyfriend never made her lady parts bloom like the Ghost did earlier. I guess the "Gentleman" part of his name is code for "Vagina Arsonist."

The Gentleman Ghost pays Corrigan a visit because that's what gentlemen do, right? They approach their rivals with class, shake their hands, and then threaten to obliterate them from existence. It's why I can never figure out the "man" part of being a man. Even shaking hands is too macho and confrontational for me! How come men aren't expected to grow up and just roll around in a tank full of kittens? I could do that! I'd be the best provider a family ever saw if that were the man's role in a family dynamic! I have to take my work vehicle in to get it worked on to pass the DEQ's smog test and I'm anxious and nervous and completely stressed out because I have to interact with other grownups. Plus what if they can't get the car fixed up to pass the test?! What if it becomes a huge, extended pain in my ass?! Why did my mother and father even bother to bring me into this world?!

Apparently the "Gentleman" part of his name is also code for "Have you ever been with a man? Do you want to?"

Gentleman Jim makes off with Eleanor's mystic necklace but he doesn't get far. Somehow Drake and Corrigan know exactly where he'll be and they ambush him to get the necklace back. The Gentleman Ghost surrenders and offers to tell them his story because this annual has way too many pages. Also, I think the whole point of this annual is to come up with a new mythology for The Gentleman Ghost. Unless it just rehashes the old one. Maybe I should read his Who's Who entry before finishing the annual.

Previously, the Gentleman Ghost was purportedly the ghost of a highway man which traveled through time and sought revenge on those who hanged him by stealing their family jewels. Or something. Now he's a ghost cursed by a witch to do her bidding. She is long dead but he still appears whenever the moon is in the night sky. The necklace was apparently a gift from his true love, the daughter of the witch and the reason he was killed and cursed. Although he's telling the story to buy himself some time so it's probably all untrue. Is he really a ghost?! Maybe he just used trickery and technology to run through walls and pool tables! The only part of his story that's probably true is the part about how charming and sexy he is.

The Ghost throws some drinks in Corrigan's face which doesn't seem polite at all. He steals the necklace and gets away. But The Spectre doesn't like having whisky thrown in his eyes so he decides to start judging any assholes he can find.

Asshole.

Jim Craddock, before he's banished by the Spectre, kept insisting that he wasn't a ghost. No, he was more of a spider monster demon gigolo. But now he's gone which is too bad because Detective Drake probably wanted to do it to him. Corrigan probably did too.

Gotham By Midnight Annual #1 Rating: I'm happy to note this was an annual in the traditional sense of annuals. It was a self-contained story with a guest artist and everything! The only problem was it didn't properly express the spookiness of the regular series which is totally dangerous! What if it gave enough of a taste to lure some people in and then they'll read the monthly and be super freaked out and die?! I almost typed "I hope DC knows what they're doing" and then remembered that they totally don't know what they're doing at all.