Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #33 (Early July, 1992)

Is this some kind of Kristallnacht subtext?

You can tell I'm a heterosexual male who's spent too many hours of my life in strip clubs because my first attempt at spelling "Kristallnacht" was "Krystalnacht".

For those young people who don't know anything about Kristallnacht (or just the superficial stuff), might I recommend the Wikipedia page on it or the local library and not trying to learn more about it via YouTube. But that's just me because I like to know more about reality and less about other whackjob's versions of reality as seen through being "red-pilled", the worst-named process in the history of the worrrrrrllldddd oh shit-well-don't-forget-to-look-up-Kristallnacht-because-I'm-being-dragged-away-by-a-tangentAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

If one were to watch The Matrix with the realization of what being "red-pilled" meant in today's (or a not-so-long-ago vernacular, anyway), one would think that taking the red pill meant that you didn't want to know reality and would rather have your mind poisoned so that you'd be angry and fighting phantoms on the daily. So you'd watch the movie and realize that Neo's life at the beginning of the movie was reality. But by being red-pilled, he started to see imaginary enemies all around him, made-up by the angry assholes who convinced him to take the pill in the first place. He spirals into delusion and madness which eventually winds up in a mass killing. The woman stranger sitting by me when I first saw The Matrix in theaters when it was released, a woman I often make fun of because of her reaction, may have been more right than I knew when she gasped and said, "The trench coat and the shooting! It's like Columbine!" Being red-pilled isn't about understanding the world at all. It's about being driven crazy by stupid bullshit until you eventually break and kill other people and yourself because you couldn't find joy in reality. You could only find joy in anger and resentment.

Oh, I got here because I looked at the cover which says "JEW" backwards on the broken window of a high-end shop. I'm sure there's also some kind of pogrom or holocaust reading of The Matrix as well but I'm not going to look for it right now. After this, I have to re-read Steinbeck's To a God Unknown which I read about a month ago was left thinking, "Wait. What?" I think I have a bit of a grasp on it but I need to read it again with the half-formed ideas from the first read (actually second since I read it about 30 years ago).

Oh, so now Gotham has a jewel thief to deal with too?

If you own jewels and you learn that somebody has been going around stealing people's jewels while not harming them or destroying their property or kicking their dog, then you're not now living in fear. Thinking somebody might steal your jewels, one small percentage of your outrageous wealth, isn't fear, you soft, smelly pieces of fucking diaper fruit. You can't report on a jewel thief and claim people are living in fear when some other guy has been, for way more than just two weeks, killing elderly people. I guess if you're over 63 and you have a massive pile of jewels in your home, you now find yourself spending way more money each week on Depends than before. But that's about it! Don't fucking bung up my television programming by declaring rich people are living in fear because they might lose what amounts to pocket change. I'll tell you what I really think: rich people actually should be living in fear! Every fucking day of their lives should be ruined by the worry that the masses are going to relearn how to build guillotines.

Batman doesn't give a shit about a burglar (except that maybe his dick twitches at the hope it's Catwoman); he's busy not being able to stop Mr. Lime the Old People Killer. He's so frustrated that he's smashed up the entire Batcave. Or maybe Bruce Wayne smashed it up because he's so scared of his jewels being stolen.

The attitude you can show to your boss when you can't be fired because you know his deepest secrets.

I bet Alfred has a massive Henry Hoover but he's painted a bat cowl on it.

The Batsignal is just Gordon needing Batman's help to stop rich people being robbed. Batman tells him to fuck off because he's busy trying to deal with crime that actually matters. He suggests Gordon contact The Cavalier since that guy seems like the type who would love to beat up a non-violent criminal and later be showered with adulation from rich folks. Gordon's all, "Okay. Sorry I bothered you but you know the police are really only here to protect rich people's property. I get that's not what Batman's about. You must not be a rich guy, I guess."

The Cavalier is currently busy telling criminals that drugs are bad and to not do drugs after he's beaten the shit out of them. I don't know about you but I'd rather let some people in Gotham do drugs than worry about people who do drugs getting fucking destroyed by some fop with a thin mustache in a bandanna. I know it's not an either/or situation but also if there wasn't a guy beating people up, I still wouldn't care about people doing drugs. Now I'm thinking there should have been an '80s anti-crack campaign that could have had Marie Antoinette saying, "Let them do coke."

The burglar who probably isn't The Cavalier, I'm totally sure of it, works for an evil man named Randolph Salt. I know he's evil because James Robinson spent several narration boxes describing how some people are evil and then other people are, like, really super evil! And Randolph Salt is one of those super evil types. Also he's basically white he's so pale which means he's not full of life's passionate juices. He's a dry, husk of a man. But he has something that the burglar wants and will only give it to him after he does one more major burglary. I hope it's not WayneTech or Bruce Wayne's mansion!

Oh yeah! I'd forgotten how the last issue ended because my brain had to process so much Objectivist bullshit in the interim! Cavalier had saved that super pale woman from killing herself. Could she be a relation of Randolph Salt, a man so evil that he drove her to suicide? And now is he working for him to earn her safety? I don't know because I stopped reading the comic book to write all of this speculation!

While The Cavalier obsesses over the woman he found and subsequently politely kidnapped, I guess, The Batman thinks he's figured out Mr. Lime's next victim!

Mr. Lime decided to just start shooting people now because there were too many variables in setting fires and hits-and-runs so Batman's a little more focused on events like these.

Batman hangs upside down over the stage like, um, a kid on a jungle gym is probably the best way to describe it. He's ready to stop Mr. Lime's faster-than-sound rifle bullet before it hits its so-fucking-old target. Nobody notices him up with the lights even though his cape hangs down about twelve feet. I guess it just looks like more stage curtains.

This motherfucker's talking about Batman Returns (in theaters now (back then!)!), isn't he?! Let him die, Bruce!

Batman notices the podium is ticking and he swoops down to save the old guy before it explodes. In the explosion, a piece of debris nails Batman in the base of the skull. He notices Ameche, the actor, is okay but Batman struggles to get up. Oh fuck. He'd better go to the hospital or he's going to go the way of Bob Saget and thousands of people's elderly grandfathers who fell off of ladders and were all, "No, no! I'm all right! Just a little Easter egg on the old noggin'!"

While Batman shivers and can't see straight and tries not to vomit on the old guy, the burglar begins their final burglary before Randolph Salt will give them whatever the burglar seems to need from them. Probably Ellen the Suicidal Pale Girl's freedom. While trying to steal the massive gem from a museum, he slips, falls, and sets off all the alarms. By the time he gets to the roof, the cops are there with spotlights. They light up his face and his whole life turns to shit because he fell in love with the wrong suicidal woman.

I mean, maybe don't wear your hero mask to your crime?

Nobody knew who the fuck you were, dude. You get arrested? You probably don't kill your career as The Cavalier if you leave the mask at home. But I guess this is the kind of shoddy planning you'd get from a guy named The Cavalier! Now the big dumb idiot is going to have to fight Batman. Luckily, Batman's had a recent head injury so the battle should be fairly even!

Batman knows he should be home getting a nice massage from Alfred but he's going after this non-violent thief who even the cops identified as committing the recent burglary crime spree because Batman can't stand being fooled. Batman's about to get himself killed from a swollen brain because his widdle bitty feewings were hurt when he was lied to by The Cavalier. On the other side of the chase, The Cavalier's just happy to have his adrenaline pumping. Motherfudging stuntmen, amirite?!

I'm publishing this post before the Watershed so I had to tone down some of my bloody swears. I was talking about the American watershed which doesn't exist but also where the simple word "bloody" isn't a stupid swear word. Not that American broadcasting doesn't care about airing adult material! They totally fucking care because they suck which is why I watch so much British television. But if America had to acknowledge a watershed, it would be from 10 PM to 6 AM. But, again, even at those hours, prudes gonna prude to the FCC by letters and emails.

The Cavalier throws a knife at Batman that disables his one-man Batcopter which crashes to the . . . what? Oh yeah! You want to see Batman's stupid solo copter? Or is it cute and adorable? I'm struggling as to how masculine or feminine I should be about the copter. Part of me is all, "OH MY GOD IT'S FUCKING ADORABLE! Why didn't Bruce paint it pink? Why isn't there a cute little chibi bat mascot on it?!" And the other half is all, "So stupid. It's totally stupid. How lame. Not cool at all. See how I'm not smiling even more than when I usually don't smile? I'm a fucking guy, man. I can't enjoy stuff. So stupid."

It's like a high chair for a big bat daddy.

The Batcopter may also be a flying toilet. Bats is definitely using it as a disabled vehicle here being that he can't swing on a rope without crashing through an apartment window.

Okay, so The Cavalier causes Batman's copter to crash but then Batman can't make his muscles work and he's about to die in the fiery wreckage. So The Cavalier, bewildered at Batman's inability to do anything cool, drags him from the fire and points out that he could have left him to die or killed him himself. So maybe take that into consideration maybe for when he's feeling better and winds up kicking the living shit out of him. Maybe go a little easy on him, you know?

Ellen tells The Cavalier to flee but he's all, "I have to get your ownership papers so we can fuck! It's totally worth maybe getting beaten by Batman and thrown in Blackgate!" And Ellen's lady place is all, "Whoosh!"

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #33 Rating: A. Was this entire series this good? Okay, minus the single issue "Family" by Hudnall which was just kind of bland. But James Robinson and Matt Wagner and Tim Sale? This is some great shit!

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #32 (Late June 1992)

Shit about to go down! Batman finally faces a guy with a knife!

I wonder if this is the story about the first time Batman had to fight a guy with a knife? More likely it's about his first time facing the League of Assassins or Kobra or a bunch of guys with knives and kanji tattoos that read stuff like "This side up" and "impotent white guy" (so like Kobra or the League but more local and more lame). I'm suggesting Batman will be fighting a gang or an organization because the title is "Blades" and not "Blade". Although that might just be so Marvel doesn't get all up in their ass crack with lawyers. I could glance at the covers of the next two issues but I want to be surprised! Also, I'm already looking at the cover of the second issue in the story (because of the way stacks work) and it's no help.

Before we get to the comic book, I need to scan the inside cover advert because, hoo boy, guys. GUYS.

Intriguing! I didn't think I was into watching hot women take shits until just now.

I've often said that every single fucking company in the world needs a Department of Cynicism so that they don't wind up making hilarious errors like this advert for Catwoman: Defiant. Every department would just be a room full of the most clever and observant men and women that exist in every friend group (you're all thinking of somebody right now!) sitting around playing video games or Dungeons & Dragons. Every time the company comes up with an idea that's going to go out in the public, just slip it under the door. They'll pass it around and within a few minutes, you'll know if you accidentally just marketed a Fleshlight to toddlers.

I mean, that advert is super hot though. I can see why whoever okayed it was all, "PRINT IT!", without looking too closely because they just wanted to begin masturbating as soon as their office door was closed.

The issue begins (I mean after the Catwoman's ropy shit advert) with Batman investigating the scene of a long gun assassination.

Batman's smarter than I am so I'm not going to question "Bullets fired from a long-range rifle meant food left uneaten." I guess if somebody broke in with a pistol and shot them, they'd have finished their breakfast?

Mr. Lime, the assassin, can't be the focus of this book because a long-range rifle isn't a blade. Wait. Let me check something. Hmm, yeah, okay. Yep! The OED backs me up on this!

The OED is the Oxford English Dictionary, just in case that was a mystery to you. I feel like everybody knows that but then everybody I know also has a degree in literature so it's worth it to feel like I'm overexplaining. I hate to leave in an "IYKYK" moment. Whenever I see anybody take the time to write "If You Know, You Know" or the acronym, I get angry because I'm all, "You have time to explain! Stop gatekeeping your trivial information! Let me be somebody who knows!"

Let's contemplate an assassin that would take the name Mr. Lime. Is it because he fires bullets into people's coconuts? IYKYK!

You don't have to tell me I'm a hypocrite! I've known that for decades longer than you have!

As we, the readers, learn more about Mr. Coconut in the main panels of the book, long, vertical side panels on each page tell the story of a fop vigilante getting all dressed up like Porthos to make his Gotham debut.

I've never read The Three Musketeers but I have played the text adventure game about it which, luckily, managed to keep the memory of the novel alive! But I couldn't remember the names of any of the four Three Musketeers so I checked IMDB.

Normally, this caption would read, "Nice! Milla Jovovich is in this!" And then my dick would find out where it's streaming. But instead, this caption reads, "Second woman on the cast is just 'Blonde'. Fucking Patriarchy."

I'm sure Helen George was labeled as "Blonde" simply because the cast is probably listed in the order they appear on-screen? I wish IMDB had notations under each actors name in IMDB that read "Shows tits" or "Shows Dick (flaccid)". I think the only person with "Shows Butthole" would be Anne Heche in Psycho.

Batman begins his analysis of Mr. Lime with "The world is overpopulated. That is a fact." Since he's only thinking, nobody standing around him (meaning Alfred) mutters, "Nice. A billionaire hoarding resources that could be used to alleviate the issues with current overpopulation, making the current population actually sustainable, complaining about other people existing. Not a great look, Master Brood."

Bruce doesn't actually express an opinion on overpopulation other than labeling the population being too much over an unspecified number a fact. He's just coming to grips with Mr. Lime's reasons for killing, scrawling them down in his little Bat Notebook. Mr. Lime only kills people over the age of 63. He kills them in a variety of ways: rifle, slit throats, forcing cars over cliffs, hit and run. I guess he mails the police after to explain that any random death of an old person in Gotham was his doing. Or maybe he's just reading the obituaries and taking credit for when old people die? I bet it's some fourteen year old on some local Gamma World Bulletin Board dialing in and leaving cryptic, poorly spelled confessions in forum threads about turning toasters into explosives (in-game, of course! With flow charts and dice rolls and advantages for having certain mutations).

Later that night, The Fop makes his debut as he stops a mugging.

His actual name will probably be something like the Swashbuckler or the Devilish Dandy of Gotham.

His name is The Cavalier which I have to applaud for the various meanings that can be applied to it (probably not this one though: "an adherent of Charles I of England"). But to my credit, Merriam-Webster's online definition for its use as an adjective to mean "aristocratic" contains the example, "portrayed the plantation owner as a cavalier fop". His attitude as well as his dress speaks to his moniker. He acts as if he's filming a dramatic scene as he battles the muggers. By the time the police arrive, they're basically standing and applauding, throwing roses and hiding boners. Batman's going to hate that they love this guy!

Gordon wonders if this new vigilante will be trouble, especially since Batman's mind has been consumed with Mr. Lime. Gordon can't understand it because Gordon doesn't know Batman is secretly a young boy still nursing the wound of his parents' murder by a violent criminal. Gordon can't see that Mr. Lime represents every pain, every confusing thought, every grieving second of Batman's life. Is that why he's Mr. Lime? Because the lime's acidity burns when it gets in old wounds?

By the way, sometimes I get distracted while reading and reviewing a comic book. Most of the time, there isn't any external evidence to my having wandered off to fuck around on the Internet or play some video games or take a nap. But I just got distracted and there's physical proof of it. Here you go:

I'm so subtle!

Batman stops by Gordon's office to pick up police files on Mr. Lime. While he's there, Gordon points out that the people of Gotham really love this Cavalier guy. Batman's all, "If they love him so much, why don't they take him out behind the school and get him pregnant. Also, I'm not mad. Please don't print in the newspaper that I got mad."

Man, writing is easy when you just steal other people's jokes! No wonder ChatGTP can write so much so quickly!

Also, Batman really is mad. I think his eye was twitching when Gordon told him about the lovable scamp, The Cavalier. It's hard to know for sure because you can't depict with absolute certainty an eye twitching in a comic book panel.

Batman's notepad's getting a little scary when he starts sounding like Rorschach. Lines like, "But I'll win. I must. No more killings, Lime. No more tears. Too sad. Too sad." I guess it's not as poetic as a dead dog with his head caved in but Batman's new to this journaling thing.

Eventually, Batman "accidentally" runs into The Cavalier.

Oh, Batman! Remember this line 19 years from now when you finally learn about the Court of Owls!

I love how Scott Snyder's creation of The Court of Owls technically didn't retcon anything. We can always surmise while reading earlier issues that they've been in the shadows controlling things. And anything that does conflict with past events isn't a fault of Snyder's story; it's the fault of The New 52!

Batman pulls a card out of the authoritarian playbook (something he's often wont to do being, you know, a billionaire) and "allows" The Cavalier to remain in Gotham playing vigilante. But he only allows it because The Cavalier reminds him of the last happy moment of his life: sitting in a dark movie theater with his mother and father watching Zorro. The Cavalier does his cavalier thing and pretends to be gracious while also threatening Batman with a future battle of swords. Batman doesn't respond because Batman is simply thinking, "Um, like, yeah I'm way better at swords than you, you douche."

The Cavalier's secret identity is revealed to the reader: Hudson Pyle, stuntman. His plan was to make a name for himself as The Cavalier only to later reveal his identity when he became super popular. Then he'd easily get movie roles instead of just stunt jobs. But now that he's got a taste of saving people on the streets, he's not sure he wants to reveal his identity and move on to movies. He's considering giving that up to become Gotham's favorite crime fighter.

Batman probably already knows all that, or at least would know all of that if he wasn't so obsessed with the old person killer. This time, he set fire to a care facility for the elderly. Batman and the firefighters manage to save all but one person by the time the fire gets too out of control to safely enter the building. But Batman enters anyway! He's got to save the old person! Which he, of course, manages. Everybody at the scene begins to think, "Hey! Maybe this Batman isn't so bad. Would The Fop have gone in there under those conditions? Smiling and cocky and full of swagger? Surely not! But Batman? That guy doesn't care if he lives or dies! That's who I want to save me in a certain death situation!"

The issue ends with The Cavalier watching the fire from across the city, admitting to himself he would have been useless even if he had been there. Some things are better left for Batman; some things better left for The Cavalier. There's room enough for both in Gotham, thinks the Court of Owls, probably. But as he's contemplating his place in Gotham, he sees somebody jump from a nearby bridge! He swings in to save her on his Cavalierope only to find she didn't want to be saved. I mean, sure, at the moment. But she'll probably be grateful later.

Is this vampire Barbara Gordon?

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #32 Rating: A. What kind of rating were you expecting from a James Robinson/Tim Sale jam? It lives up to the credits on the cover. I don't know why Catwoman decided to take a shit on it.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #31 (Early June 1992)

Batman loves his fuzzy little screechy rabies guys.

Who in DC's art department or editorial, in 1992, decided that after 30 issues, the iconic look of this series should just be tossed out the fucking window like a reverse Batman origin? "What are you talking about, Grunion Guy? The logo looks just like it always did?" I'm not talking about the logo, Internet blockhead I just made up to argue with! Where'd the thin-lined rectangle go?! Look, I'll show you some examples.

This is the first issue. It established "the rectangle". It looks fucking stylish. But it gets better!

This smaller image inside a rectangle of solid cover, with the logo and title in blocks above and below the main image, was used for the entirety of the "Shaman" story arc. At issue #6, they changed this format by covering the entire page with the image.

But they left the original inner rectangle border! How fucking cool does that look?!

You can even see the rectangle use on Mike Mignola's cover for the first Annual which he incorporated into the art by having the lower edge disappear into the murky water that Batman is wading through. It just looks so streamlined and modern and some artists absolutely were working with it as part of the layout, as seen in Wagner's run, "Faces". But for some reason, after thirty issues, they dropped the design on this cover. Why? Who made that decision? Can they retroactively be fired for being lame and not with it? Man, I hope so!

This issue is called "Family" probably to bring to mind "Death in the Family" where the Joker treated Jason Todd's head like a sealed crate full of brains. And since these stories are "legends", maybe Jason Todd will be a main character in this. I'm assuming, by the title, that's how these stories worked at the time. They're not chronological but stories from across Batman's career without being grounded in any specific time.

The issue begins with a very serious Batman running through the jungle, bloodlust pumping through his normally bloodlust-free veins.

Please let him be talking about Batcow!

How often does Batman "want" to kill? Is he like Bruce Banner in that one movie and Batman's secret is that he wants to kill all the fucking time? That can't be true because he definitely loses his temper to degrees no regular mortal ever does without popping a mental gasket but he seems to have the ability not to kill as hardcoded as my ability to not shit myself while I'm sleeping, no matter how huge a shit I'm taking in my dreams. Batman's probably just being metaphorical and slightly hyperbolic when he says to himself that he wants to kill them. Up until the "they've taken you" bit, I thought maybe he was talking about ants in his kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, it's Alfred who has been taken. Batman decides right up front that he's finally willing to kill if that's what it takes to save Alfred. This might be why Jason Todd came back so angry. "Remember that time you were willing to kill to save somebody? And it wasn't fucking me, you piece of shit! *BANG*!" The bang was Red Hood's gun that he loves to shoot into people's faces and kill them dead. But not Batman because even if he's mostly mad at Batman, he just takes that anger out at the rest of the criminal world. Also, he can't hit Batman with a bullet! Nobody can. At least not mortally!

It seems Batman sent Alfred on a vacation to Corto Maltese where Alfred got into some trouble. So Batman is blaming himself instead of Alfred who probably did too much gambling, heroin, and sex.

Like Bruce Wayne cares if Alfred hears his fuck noises. As if Alfred doesn't usually sit in the cuck chair, just in case Bruce needs something during the sex. "A little more lube for your butthole, sir?"

Alfred disappeared two days into his vacation but Batman didn't notice until Alfred missed his flight seven days later. Batman says, "Didn't have time to check up on him." Oh yeah. He was fucking all week, wasn't he? Probably had Selena Kyle, Vicki Vale, and Jaina Hudson in bed with him for five days straight. Bruce probably didn't even bother to pick up Alfred at the airport since that's, you know, Alfred's job.

Realizing he was going to have to make his own tea and wash his own pants for the rest of his life, Batman decides to investigate Alfred's disappearance. He heads to Corto Maltese, stays in the same hotel, and passes around a lot of cash while asking questions to all the locals. He finally discovers one willing to tell him about the white man interested in visiting the Mayan ruins. So Batman headed into the jungle with a murder boner.

Even though I scanned the "New Girlfriend" question panel, I could not figure out this clue until Batman explained it.

Batman smiles at Alfred's naivete to not make girlfriend plural and heads into the jungle after him and his captors.

Batman catches up to the bandits in an abandoned rubber factory. After easily beating up most of them, he questions one and discovers that Alfred supposedly was killed by a snake bite! Batman doesn't immediately break down in tears but it's close. He also manages to not kill the guy who told him because he wants proof. But the guy tells him Alfred's body is in the next room but what's actually in the next room are more bandits for Batman to beat the shit out of. After that, the guy explains that they sold Alfred to a criminal overlord called El Vato. Guy Gardner?

"Okay, fine! Yes, Bruce Wayne wrote a birthday card to Jeffrey Epstein all about the first Robin nobody knows about!"

Man, that caption was too dark even for me. I'm sorry, Baby Jesus. I know you don't approve. On the other hand, I don't care what Baby Jesus approves of or disapproves of. He's just a baby!

I can't pray to adult Jesus because he's always depicted shirtless on the cross and, oh my, my thighs are already sweating. Madre de Dios!

I know, I know. Look at me, having a little fun with Christianity in what they'd deem to be a blasphemous or vitriolic way. No way! I love Jesus! But here's a little helpful hint to all the Christians who think both that America is a Christian nation and that Christians are the most victimized of religious people ever: of course you're going to get parodied and satirized and mocked when your religion is the standout, most vocal religion in the United States! What, we're supposed to go after Quakers when we do a little fun mockery? Pshaw! If we did that, you'd get jealous and upset that you were being ignored! I bet Jesus wouldn't get mad at me saying his athletic build gives me the hots! He'd probably blush and do a "oh you" hand gesture and then say, "But seriously. Get straight with God, sinner."

Batman sneaks into El Vato's encampment in some Mayan ruins and almost immediately falls into an ancient Mayan pit trap. El Vato strolls over with all his gunmen to mock Batman before killing him.

Batman's probably not crying. It's just the pit was full of stagnant water. And he fell in directly onto his eyeballs.

Batman does not get shot to death even though it seems inevitable at this point. Instead, he triggers a sonic device on his belt that causes all the bats in South America to come party down. He escapes under cover of bat and rushes into the ruins to find Alfred whom he finds almost immediately. Batman also finds some trucks loaded with guns, explosives, and drugs. He sets up a detonator to distract the gang members while they flee for a helicopter Batman saw earlier. The rescue and escape all work out after some explosions and fisticuffs and Alfred saving Batman's life.

You know Batman probably set this up to make Alfred feel good. Also those are the final panels of the story. That's how it ends.

It's easy to set up a situation like this to entertain people or make them feel like heroes when you're observant. I was once helping out with the Santa Clara Junior Theater when I was, I don't know, twenty-one, I think? At the end of the show, we were breaking down the Tom Sawyer set when I realized they were pulling the nails out of the house façade and that it was probably just going to fall forward when they were done. So I positioned myself with my back to the façade, lining up in the doorway so that the entire thing would crash down around me. Everybody screamed and then laughed and thought it was hilarious and I don't think anybody realized I set up the entire thing. Like Batman pretending he was about to die so Alfred could save him! I'm just like Batman!

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #31 Rating: C. It was a mediocre story which explained why Alfred doesn't go on vacation. Did we need that story? No but we don't really need any story, right? This could have been one of those great fucking stories that you remember for ever even when it wasn't needed for continuity or lore or to reveal some deep insight into the character. But it wasn't because it was mostly boring. Thanks, James Hudnall, for boring me! That being said, I'm going to immediately give James D. Hudnall another chance to impress me! This was the first comic I've reviewed by him but guess what? I've got another to follow it up immediately: Lex Luthor: The Unauthorized Biography.

Judging by this cover, I might be taking the piss out of Donald Trump quite a bit next review. Or not. Fuck Trump. I don't want to talk about his moronic, spiteful ass.

Martian Manhunter: American Secrets #3 (November 1992)

I bet I'm the first person who completely understood these covers!

That caption is less of a brag and more of a declaration that comic book readers don't give a lot of thought to some stuff. Oh, sure, everybody thought about Watchmen! But that's because Moore shoved a fucking novel into the end of each issue and people were all, "Why are there so many words? Must be important!" Plus to my point, I'd say the majority of Watchmen readers at the time were all, "Hurr hurr. Rorschach is fucking cool, man."

As you may have heard, Charlie Kirk was murdered earlier this week and the GOP, whom I've recently mentioned have a tough time understanding reality, immediately used Kirk's death to weaponize their followers against Leftists and Liberals, even though their standard mantra after a gun incident is "Stop politicizing gun deaths with calls for gun control, you evil monsters!" But as I mentioned, they rarely understand reality so they were probably the only ones who didn't read about the killing and then turned to their partners and said, "It was probably a conservative with some kind of stick up their ass about the way Kirk Conservatives." My speculation at the time, which I didn't speculate on because I want to keep my reputation as a reporter pristine (What do you mean "delusional"?!), was that it was some Qanon soused Conservative who saw the Epstein book's release and got murder angry at Kirk for following Trump's lead and deciding that the Epstein files weren't important. Turns out it was just a fucking Groyper. Love that these fuckers keep shooting at themselves.

The main thing I wanted to discuss, because it's comic book related, has to do with Gretchen Felker-Martin and how Bluesky banned her and then DC dropped her Red Hood series. My introduction to this incident came when I saw this Skeet mentioning her ban:

Being that I'm only reading comics from 1992 currently, I had no idea Gretchen was a comic book writer.

Apparently Gretchen was banned from Bluesky for this post due to "glorifying death" which, by the way, wasn't against their terms of service until they decided they needed to ban people rightly acknowledging that Charlie Kirk was a piece of shit and his death was no loss to the world. But I'd also argue that this Skeet wasn't glorifying or making fun of his death anyway! It's a shot at Newsome and a joke about the jobs market. Here's my response:

Seriously! This is funnier and more complex than 90% of right wing humor that's basically just calling somebody a faggot or a retard.

I suspect that, like a majority of the Internet, the Bluesky mods' reading comprehension is sub-standard. I think they read this as Kirk's death was the silver lining. The job opening was the silver lining! Because so much unemployment! And it was a shot at Newsome for having fucking right wing demagogue on his stupid podcast! Glorifying his death it is not. Sure, there's a bit of a smirk about it in there. But it's just collateral damage and not the direct hit. So to speak.

Later, still not knowing who Gretchen Felker-Martin was, I saw that DC was canceling the new Red Hood series. I thought they were canceling it because Red Hood is the kind of guy who would write memes on bullet casings and shoot Nazis in the throat! I thought DC was all, "Oh shit! This is too close to the tragedy! Maybe let's give Todd a rest for a bit!" But no! Come to find out, it was Gretchen's book and DC was all, "We can have Gretchen write funny books about vigilante murders but God forbid she writes a funny Skeet that's assassination adjacent!" Jesus fucking Christ if I wasn't reading old comic books that they published by pedophiles which I'd already paid for, I might just have to boycott these fucking dum-dums!

Anyway, I think I have a 48 page comic to read and that rant just really ate into the word count. But that's okay because I've already said all the smart stuff I could think up about this book in the first two issues. I'm tired of trying to be smart so maybe I'll just make fun of J'onn's cock in this one. Remember, this thing is about white supremacy (you know what that is! The thing Charlie Kirk desperately wanted although apparently not strongly enough for his Nick Fuentes loving Groyper killer! I hope they just leave us all out of their little gun squabbles and just redden the streets with each other's blood, the dumbshits).

That's exactly what a lizard head would say, Doctor Lizard Head!

Doctor Mid-nite tries to convince Detective Jones that he didn't see any lizard heads at all. Was Doctor Mid-nite the man all the Men in Black were modeled after? The Doctor describes how the Justice Society were convinced and not at all gaslit by Hoover that they were the problem and that they should hang up their capes. So they did but they kept working with the government in secret to help maintain the status quo. See, being a flashy hero fighting societal injustice was just too subversive. That's because white people don't want super heroes beating them up for committing crimes which cops and politicians would let them get away with. So now the FBI want Martian Manhunter to work for them keeping the current status quo. They want order over justice and they're willing to burn the shit out of a Martian if he doesn't play ball.

Prelvis falls for the grift because this is DC Elvis's version of working for the FBI. But Detective Jones and Patty are forced to flee as the FBI sick Skeeter on them.

What the fuck is up with that kid?! He's definitely a Gerard Jones self-insert, right?!

Martian Manhunter flies out a window and into the Nevada desert with Patty Marie. Skeeter lies dead on the sidewalk thirty stories below.

He's no longer a little boy but he's also not a lizard head? What the fuck, man?

So Skeeter was a pervy old man who somehow looked like a little boy. I guess that's lizard head magic (and more proof that they're not just white supremacists but also pedophiles (although it wouldn't take much of anything to convince me that those two things often go together).

The FBI mobilize fighter jets to chase down Martian Manhunter. A brief dogfight occurs where one jet is destroyed by another jet's incendiary missiles. But Martian Manhunter and Patty Marie are caught in the explosion. The flames cause J'onn to drop Patty while also lighting Patty on fire so that J'onn has trouble saving her from the fall. They crash to the ground and when J'onn regains consciousness in the morning, Patty is dead. I guess the heroism is that he tried to save her at the risk of his own life. He mostly only failed because writing the rest of the story while he continues to protect this little girl would be a pain the ass. Best to put her out of her misery early and get on with all the alien on alien violence to come.

Oh, um, I guess it all plays into his past trauma too.

I probably shouldn't be the one hinting at another writer lazily scripting up plot points just to make telling the rest of the story easier. Especially when I'm about three pages away from just summarizing the last thirty pages in one paragraph, rating this whole shebang a "B+", and going to take a nap.

You didn't notice but I just took my nap early and had some dinner.

Jones dumps Patty's body next to the dead pilot. He notices some blue gunk leaking out of the pilot and realizes the guy is full of a weird blue fungus. As a scientist, he's basically forced to cut open little Patty too. He discovers she doesn't have the fungus in her. He surmises that some people are either immune to the fungus or too young to have been corrupted by the fungus or too rural for the fungus to have reached them, like Prelvis. He believes the lizard heads use the fungus to somehow keep people in check, to limit what they see (or control it, like people seeing Skeeter as a kid instead of a lecherous old man), and to cause them to spontaneously combust when they say too much. He finds surveillance photos of him on the pilot and a map of Cuba. One of the locations on the map is PTO Iberez, an anagram of a bunch of silly words Keene kept throwing at him, and Doctor Midnight as well. Detective Jones has finally found some real, non-holistic evidence of the alien invasion!

Detective Jones meets a Cuban Beatnik who tries his best to explain what's happening through metaphor and allegory. But ultimately he says too much and burns like Phil did earlier.

This poet less-than-subtly (thus the combustion) explains there's an alien invasion and the aliens are at PTO Iberez.

Detective Jones goes full on Tom Joad, declaring he'll be there when somebody combusts or when somebody gets taken by fungus or when somebody is told by some big-headed, small-faced moron to prove them wrong. But less metaphysically, Martian Manhunter convinces Castro and Guevara to send their guerilla fighters to PTO Iberez instead of Havana. Because that's where the true threat to the world lies!

While the lizard heads battle to protect their fungus mind control crops against the Cuban guerrilla fighters, Martian Manhunter and Prelvis infiltrate the Master Gardener's lair. It's probably time for the lead lizard head to explain why they want to control human culture to this degree but first they need to drop the big white supremacist line whenever they're criticizing somebody Other who speaks or acts against their race-based tyranny.

Only the very worst people expect gratitude from others, and expect others to be grateful for people allowing them to survive. Or earn a living. Or to merely be left alone. As if they spoon feed us everything. Fuck off!

The lizard head plan reads a lot like Peacemaker, Season One. The butterflies decided to take control of the Earth for the sake of the humans, to save the world and force everybody to live in peace. These lizard heads have basically the same plot. And, again, it sounds quite similar to certain white supremacists who are trying to force order through violence in America today.

Look, we've know the fascist playbook for decades. Centuries, even. It's no surprised Jones writing this in 1992 sounds so fucking familiar to today.

Speaking of fascists, I want to return to the revelation that the Charlie Kirk murderer was probably a Groyper and most certainly right-wing himself. I mentioned in an earlier American Secrets review how conservatives want to live in irreality and anything sniffing of actual reality is woke nonsense because they can't control that narrative. So what happens when they learn the killer was one of their own? They just fucking steamroll right over the fact and continue with their bullshit about leftists being violent and leftists having caused this and how leftists need to be violently punished. They have no ideology except hurting the Other that doesn't even exist. The Left they talk about is just more of their shared hallucination. It's no wonder so many of them love AI because it comprehends reality just as well as they do. They want so badly to be given the legal right to just up and murder any Democrat, Liberal, or Progressive they encounter on the street. They want us to be demons from Hell. Their world doesn't make sense without it so they grip as hard as they can at the belief that their enemies are out to get them. Instead, we're cracking jokes because a Nazi was killed by another Nazi. We're having fun with something that probably made the world better, even if it was done by another piece of shit. Oh? And because that piece of shit was a white MAGA Republican? Now they fucking have empathy for him.

A major problem with the Right is how they think they have sole ownership of laughing at people who get hurt or killed because it's not "politically correct" to do so. But they love if someone Other gets hurt somehow. Their jokes, in that regard, are absolutely fine. But when they see the Left make the same kind of jokes about one of them, they shit their pants. Not because they believe people shouldn't make jokes about people getting killed. They shit their pants because they can't imagine that we're having fun with it in a way that isn't completely batshit angry like how they do it. And they want to call us hypocrites when we actively engage in behavior they've been told we're against. We see them for who they are while they are, their lizard heads scowling and frothing and full of hate. But they can't see us because the fungus down their spine projects what they've been told by their thought leaders who we are.

Frankly, they're all mostly dumb as shit.

Anyway, surprise! The lead lizard head turns out to be something else altogether!

He probably, to keep with the metaphor, should have been a white Martian. I get why he wasn't though!

The lizard head warriors, not realizing that their master is actually a Martian too, accidentally burn him to a crisp when they turn their flamethrowers on him wrestling Martian Manhunter. J'onn only survives because Prelvis throws him in a canal nearby. But J'onn doesn't pass out until he sends a message to the lizard heads in jets to bomb PTO Iberez. They do it because they do whatever their leader tells them to do instead of thinking anything through.

Sometime after the world is saved, Prelvis dies in a plane crash. Or he died saving J'onn and the plane crash is the lie told to the public. Whatever the case, the immediate threat has been vanquished. But nobody can actually discuss it because the fungus still living inside them will burn them to a crisp. So now they have to wait a generation or two before super heroes can return to the world. Is this some kind of explanation of some continuity gap between the Justice Society's World War II exploits and later continuity? I don't maintain the entirety of DC history in my head so I have no idea.

The final page shows J'onn declaring that he's not a Martian anymore; he's a Beatnik. Ha ha! I wish that fucking character trait had remained!

Martian Manhunter: American Secrets #3 Rating: A. Good stuff by a shit pedophile. What can I say? Enjoy art but don't make a hero out of the artist, I guess? Everything else I need to say about this book has already been said. Plus I guess if I had any conservative readers (highly doubtful), I've probably lost them after these last few reviews. Or not! Prove me wrong!

No wait! Don't do that!

Martian Manhunter: American Secrets #2 (October 1992)

I don't know why each cover has Martian Manhunter looking ominous with a cheesecake white woman but I have the same theories you do.

If our theory stands, that this series is about white supremacy in America (the big secret that's totally not a secret but so many people want to either deny it or embrace it so much that we have the most racist president in American history at the helm right now (and that's fucking saying a lot!)) then Martian Manhunter represents Black Americans. This isn't just a hypothesis that he's the other and a minority and so his experience might reflect that of Black Americans (especially those who can pass (reading homework: Passing by Nella Larsen)); Gerard Jones made it plain last issue although he has a lizard-head say it: "Our people have a spiritual kinship with the negro. We're all exiled people." At first, this got me worried because it felt like Jones was comparing the invaders to Blacks, playing off the white fear as seen in The X-Files and, um, American history. But the lizard-heads control the police and have taken over the suburbs (I know! We haven't quite gotten there yet but it's heavily implied!), so the bad guys must be a white supremacist America. Therefore, the covers depict the white supremacist fear of the Black man. The first cover shows a woman frightened of him. The second cover shows a woman seemingly nervous but intrigued. The final issue shows a satisfied woman smoking a cigarette. I think you get the picture!

Martian Manhunter is now tooling around with the DC Universe equivalent of Elvis Presley, well known for making Black music more palatable to a mainstream audience. Is he just a symbol, an indication of how times are changing as the generations move forward? Is little Patty Marie part of it, adding an even younger generation to the group fleeing a white supremacist America? Remember, this was written in 1992 when things seemed to be improving after they were definitely not improving in the '80s due to a swinging of the pendulum in reaction to the '70s when people of all sorts — Black, white, gay, straight, all the other stuff — were mixing in disco clubs. One of my other wacky hypotheses is that disco was killed on purpose to disrupt this mixing of cultures and peoples. Yeah, I blame the death of disco on Reagan! You might be thinking, "Wasn't the death of disco a good thing?" to which I reply by putting Gloria Gaynor on the Hi-Fi and dancing like Napoleon Dynamite.

This issue begins with a Chris Ware panel followed by a Daniel Clowes panel followed by a Harvey Pekar panel. Have I mentioned how much Eduardo Barreto has killed on the art of this series? Well, I'm mentioning it now.

The days when an American car's front seat was as spacious as a twin bed.

The following two pages feel like the opening shots of Blue Velvet as we see the fleeing trio take their first steps into the quiet night of the suburbs. Surely, as Prelvis points out as they enter, this must be heaven. Compared to the loud, lively city, the stillness and quiet seems like paradise. Nothing terrible can be hiding in a place so clean and pure!

I have no theories regarding this cheesecake lawn mower calendar. I just like tits.

A family of four discover Jones and his new friends standing around trying to come up with a plan. The daughter recognizes Prelvis and mentions it to her dad who does not say, "Keep that pelvis far from thee!" He says, "Oh, how nice. And that's the little girl from the game show! Why don't you all come in to our lovely home where we will not eat your faces and blow up your heads. No sirree!"

Detective Jones lies to the family that he's trying to keep these two famous people safe from mobsters. The father is all, "Why, that sounds awful!" Meanwhile the mother is all:

Prelvis believes Mr. Keene, the editor of Nuts Magazine, lives in the suburbs. The pipe smoking father isn't too keen on Mr. Keene living there being that Nuts Magazine seems like a subversive type of rag. But he mentions anybody is welcome in the suburbs if they fit in. Obviously he fits in because he fired the cartoonist who put too many lizard heads into the satire magazine. I guess making fun of celebrities and politicians is okay as long as you don't expose them for the lizard-heads they truly are. Oh, just for the record, this vanilla nuclear family are white. I don't know if they're lizard heads yet. But if they're living in the suburbs and sticking their noses into the business of any strangers walking around town (actually confronting people was how they had to do it in the '50s because they didn't have Nextdoor), they're almost certainly white supremacists. I mean lizard heads.

I don't actually think Mr. Keene of Nuts Magazine has anything to do with the lizards because he's corrupting the youth. He would be seen as the enemy of the white supremacist status quo, just as the Beatnik and the Juvenile Delinquent and the minorities. He probably fired the cartoonist for his own safety; Mr. Keene's lampooning of the status quo the lizard heads want to maintain for their own safety can only work if you don't outright mention the lizard heads exist. Knowing they exist, and mentioning it to anybody, as we've seen, is dangerous.

Oh, um, okay. The lizard heads might also be pedophiles.

From Gerard Jones' Wikipedia entry: "... in April 2018 Jones changed his plea to 'guilty', admitting that the police had found 'numerous electronic devices containing tens of thousands of images and hundreds of videos of child pornography' in his home." I post that quote because it boggles the mind. He titled this series "American Secrets" and what could be a bigger secret than this? Tens of thousands?! That means Gerard Jones was living in a completely different America than many, probably most, of us. He knew about an America that most people don't even like to consider. He navigated the backroads of this secret America to such a degree that he could come to possess tens of thousands of images and videos before anybody even suspected him. Jones. Fogle. Epstein. Trump. Across the pond, you had Savile and Glitter. People around them who ignore it or facilitate it. I used to think a lot of accusations of pedophilia were just outlandish attacks to make people look like the worst monster you can possibly make them. And I think a lot of the world does too because they just don't know it exists because they don't think about it or look for it or experience it. Which makes me think that the people who are most accusatory of others do so because they know the world exists. And why do they know that world exists? When so many others can't even contemplate it? Because they've experienced it?

I saw a great post on Bluesky about the revelation of all the notes to Epstein for his 50th birthday that read something like, "Everybody got Epstein the same thing for his birthday: corroborating evidence." If I post Trump's message to Epstein, will I get in trouble? I feel it should be plastered everywhere, just in case some people haven't seen it.

I mean, really, how are people defending this chud?

The father of the suburban family acts weird and suspicious in ways that weren't already weird and suspicious, like living in the suburbs and smoking a pipe and knowing the exact name of his daughter's lipstick. Now he's mumbling, "Prize-to-be! Prize-to-be! Prize-to-be!" That's the phrase little Patty Marie was supposed to say on The Big Question for some reason. A kind of Mandalorian Candidate thing?

I know what I typed!

Oh, sure. Mr. Keene is the neighborhood pervert!

Why does Suburban Dad and Mom want to keep so many things away from the minds of their young kids? The daughter isn't supposed to wear Pink Passion lipstick or wear anything too grown-up. The son isn't supposed to read monster comics or eat candy. Both keep loads of secrets from their parents because they know their parents won't approve. And that's the main fear of these suburban parents who are also probably lizard-headed, Christian, white supremacists: their kids will learn about reality and they'll like it better than the racist, Christian irreality of their parents.

I'm not one to argue with right wing conservative types because their arguments about most things don't reside within the bounds of our reality. I definitely won't argue with them if they bring up the word "woke" because what they mean by woke is "reality" and they're simply anti-reality. Anything that defies the way they want the world to be is woke. The problem is that the world is the way the world is and just wanting it to be different doesn't make it so. You can legislate irreality all you want, as Trump and his cronies are doing, but it won't stick. It can't stick. You can't make it illegal to see a painting of an orange when you're looking at a painting of an orange. Most of the people who are "anti-woke" simply want their team to win or want the other people punished. But the "other team" simply wants to live life. It's not a debate. It's one side trying to get along and the other side throwing rocks at them and gaslighting them. They believe "the left" corrupt and brainwash the youth when they're actually just showing their corrupted and brainwashed kids the truth of the world. And when you get truth over illusion, most people generally want truth. Also because we have way more fun over here in reality. When the only joy you have is being angry at somebody else, it's a stupid fucking way to live.

Prelvis doesn't answer, "Oh, they're just like everybody else!"

Prelvis's answer is, "We'll they're . . . they're . . . they're . . . colored!" He's never had to think about what they're like as people before because he just sees them as something to steal from. Maybe. I don't know Prelvis that well. I'm presuming that he's a lot like the real Elvis!

The mother pops in to tell her son that it's not polite to discuss Black people. Um, what? I don't even know how to parse that! I guess as a white supremacist, she doesn't want to hear things she finds disgusting? "You don't talk about that in polite society!" should be saved for things like fucking dog carcasses and sniffing your own farts. I'm actually pro one of those but I'd like to retain some mystery and not tell you which one.

In the morning, Jones sees an article about how the singer Eddie Notanalien has killed himself in his hotel room in Las Vegas. All the holistic pieces of the puzzle (meaning absolutely every single thing Jones can remember about the last week) swirl around in his head before he decides he needs to speak with Nuts Magazine's Mr. Keene. He easily finds his home in the repetitive suburbs because his house is the only one blasting jazz. It's a good thing HOAs didn't exist in the '50s. Probably because vigilante justice and the Ku Klux Klan did.

Oh, just to be clear: I'm against HOAs and the Ku Klux Klan and some vigilante justice. I say "some" because some people help to create a world where massacres are inevitable and sometimes the massacre comes back at them and when that happens, I don't shed a fucking tear. There are thousands of aphorisms created by mankind over the years about this kind of justice because we all accept it as natural but the one that comes to mind immediately is "Live by the sword, die by the sword."

Keene doesn't seriously answer any of Jones' questions about lizards and his cartoonists who keep submitting lizard head comics. He only gets serious about one thing: being shut up by the House Unamerican Activities Committee.

I think Keene is Jewish so this is another example of the white supremacy status quo trying to shut up other voices.

While they discuss America strapping on hefty boots to step on the people they don't like's necks, a Lizard Dog crashes through the door and attacks them. Martian Manhunter kills it although he should have killed the little kid who let it off the leash. Keep your animals in check, people! Soon after the lizard dog dies, Suburban Dad wanders in off the street and pulls a massive flamethrower out of his briefcase. How would he know Detective Jones' weakness is fire unless . . . oh my God! He's a lizard head!

Did that sound like I was really surprised? Because I was no matter how many times previous to this I pointed out he was probably a lizard head.

This is the exact center of not just this issue but the entire story so it's probably pretty important.

The central image in the exact center of this story concerns a white man burning the shit out of green Martian in broad daylight in a normal neighborhood. Is that meaningful? Am I simply asking that question because it is meaningful but I want you to suss out why? Am I asking the question instead of explaining why it's meaningful because I'm fucking lazy? Is it because I don't know? Is it because I'm only halfway through this issue and I've already written too many fucking words about this comic book? It's almost certainly one of those.

The double spread page after the climactic moment begins the denouement and downfall of the lizard heads when Prelvis and Patty Marie come screeching up in Prelvis's pink Cadillac and run Suburban Dad's ass down. The rebellion has officially begun! They are fighting back against the lizard heads who believe they have a right to force everybody to acknowledge their rights and superiority! If violence controls, violence can also redeem, motherfuckers!

Don't tell Jesus I said that!

Keene helps Jones and company escape which pisses off the lizard heads.

I don't know what Keene's deal with the lizard heads is. He gets to keep publishing comics satirizing normal life as long as he doesn't get too serious about it?

Martian Manhunter shapeshifts into the persona of The Colonel, Prelvis's manager, to get him a gig in Las Vegas as they investigate who these lizard heads really are. They've got a few names, a few business associates, and Cuba as leads, plus Martian Manhunter's ability to holistically follow the evidence.

Meanwhile, Patty Marie meets Leave it to Skeeter star, Whitey Beaver.

Knowing this was written by Gerard Jones makes it that much more horrible.

Skeeter isn't an actual lizard head; he's just a kid who profits on lizard heads running the show. Yeah, once again, I'm not specifically talking about the comic book. But I've got to get this shit read already so I'm not going to go on about it! You're smart! You probably already know everything I'm going to say already!

Jones runs into a lizard head FBI Agent after leaving the meeting with the mobster who's interested in putting Prelvis in all the teenage diner jukeboxes. Oh! So I guess Phil wasn't a lizard head at all. He was just working for Cuba and the singer who compared themselves to negros was maybe just a Commie or a Cuban working for the mob. The lizards (or, you know, status quo whites) are trying to stop all of this degenerate "art" from corrupting their kids. Maybe I've thought too much about it too fast and now I'm lost in the intricacy of the plot as I tried to outguess Gerard Jones at every turn!

He finishes the conversation saying America should be "free for those who are advanced enough to appreciate it."

Leaving the white supremacy aside for a moment, Gerard Jones is undoubtedly making the point that the people in power have used any means to try to destroy those living lives outside of the status quo. Anything that might cause children to think different thoughts than their parents must be destroyed by any means. So the House of Unamerican Activities Committees. The Hayes Code. The Comics Code Authority. If they approve of your life, they will leave you alone. If they disapprove, they will destroy you. The lizard heads, I mean!

After all that, I still don't know where Skeeter falls into it. Is he a lizard head? Is he just an example of how the youth will be corrupted without the lizard heads to keep everything in check? Is he just a little fucking bastard with too much fame and money to know any better? Is he Gerard Jones' self-insert character? I don't know!

Locked up in their room in the casino, Prelvis points out that the comic book Keene gave them contains a story where the Justice Society battle lizard aliens. And in the copyright blurb, it states that the likenesses of the Justice Society are used with permission from the Justice Society through their licensing representative, Melvin Keene. More Keene. More lizards. And more intrigue as a strange man enters the room and tells them they need to talk.

Goddammit. I was tricked into reading a Justice Society comic book!

Martian Manhunter: American Secrets #2 Rating: B+. Either I'm too stupid to fully understand it (plausible) or the story has gotten a bit too convoluted. Hopefully the mobsters will wind up helping Detective Jones so I can breathe a sigh of relief that I did understand the comic book. As it stands, the lizard heads are the cops, the FBI, the white flight families of suburbia. They're all the people who want to hold power and crush American culture into the bland, boring one that they live. Comic book writers and artists are subversive. Black Americans are subversive. Rock and roll is subversive. Beatniks and their God-awful poetry are subversive. Commies, homosexuals, criminals . . . all of the usual culprits brought up by those who believe America should only be available to white Christian conservatives. Just the worst kind of people who can't be happy living the life they want to lead because they're so angry that other people are living differently. Dudes! It's so easy! Stop giving such a shit about how much other people are enjoying America just because they're enjoying it differently than you want them to! Stop fearing everything different and just fucking get on with your own thing!

Martian Manhunter: American Secrets #1 (September 1992)

Content Warning: I will likely be discussing Gerard Jones' conviction of terrible crimes and also debasing your mother. Not at the same time, of course! I'm not the worst monster! Jones is!

The Non-Certified Spouse called me racist the other day as I was eating this candy:

It was delicious!

I pointed out that as a more or less white male, if I were only fucking white women, I wouldn't be apt to disambiguate certain lovers as "white". It seems obvious that if I'm calling some of my lovers "white lovers" than I must have other lovers who would be considered non-white. But then because I can't stand to be correct about anything, I pointed out, against myself, that just because a white man fucks a non-white lover, it doesn't mean they can't still be racist! It's just a variant of "I have Black friends!" Then the Non-Certified Spouse responded, "Oh, I didn't even notice the name of the candy!"

Anyways, Gerard Jones was convicted of possessing and distributing images of child sexual abuse. I just thought we should clear that up at the start so I can say, unequivocally, that I am super against that! Like you might be thinking, "Yeah! I'm totally against that too!" But then I'd say, "But not as against it as I am!" Then you'd look at me quizzically and I'd point to my t-shirt that reads, "I'm super against possessing and distributing images of child sexual abuse!" Then you'd back away a bit and say, "That's an oddly specific shirt to wear." And I'd be all, "Oh, you wouldn't wear it? What are you? Just kind of against it?" After that, I'm assuming we'd never be friends again and I'd be okay with that because why wouldn't you proclaim how against this shit you were? Seems suspicious!

True story: I've seen at least two people out here in Portland wearing shirts and/or hats that had anti-pedophile messages. And while I appreciate the message, it's really confusing to see somebody wearing a hat that reads, "I kill pedophiles!" and, for a quick second, think you're proclaiming to be one! I know, I know! That's on me and my lack of reading comprehension! But, you know, it's still a fucking weird thing to wear. The guy wearing the shirt was even bolder in that the picture on the shirt was of a person being lynched. Don't worry! It was stick figure art so it wasn't graphic. But, I mean, it's kind of the first thing you see and even when the message later clears it up a bit that the person being hanged was a pedophile, it doesn't suddenly make my revulsion go away. "Oh, cool, you're a creepy weirdo making everybody uncomfortable who is against pedophilia! Good to know!"

This issue begins, like all horror films of the '50s, with a beatnik and an alien. The main difference is that the beatnik has just been shot. In the '50s, the beatnik was screwing your daughter, smoking herb, dressing against the conventions of the status quo, and laying down some righteous non-rhyming lines of poetry to wake your suburban ass the hell up. And that was scary because who wants to think about how their normal lives are actually hurting so many other people?! It's like that Japanese movie, Best Wishes to All! You know your way of life hurts others but why should you care? Maybe they should have thought about that before they got hurt because they chose not to hurt others so they could get what they desire like everybody else? And who wants a crummy old Beatnik spoken-poetrying criticisms right into your stupid face?! So rude!

By the way, Best Wishes to All might be the best critique of elite liberals who perpetuate a status quo that they benefit from even though it hurts so many others that I've ever seen. If that's what it's about. Maybe I'm wrong? Probably not though. I'm so smart my brain hurts all the time!

What? Maybe I should go get what checked out? I'm changing the subject now! Ow!

Oh yeah! Stickin' it to the man right up until his last breath!

The police rush up and do not beat the shit out of John Jones as he cradles a dying man in his arms because he's cosplaying as a white man and cops would never suspect a white man with a short haircut to have murdered a beatnik. Plus John flashes his detective badge and is all, "I'm from Denver. I'm here for the Forensics Convention. I'll go investigate this immediately!" And the cops are all, "Okay, man, sure, whatever. I guess you like paper work! We'll stay with the body and see if there might be some minorities to beat up."

A witness points out that the man was being chased from Le Chat Noir, a café, by two women. John reacts suspiciously with "Women, huh?" I don't know why that eyewitness evidence makes such an impression on him but he chooses to get involved. Maybe he's horny?

Gerard Jones makes sure the reader thinks they're watching an episode of The Twilight Zone. Everybody's lonely and they're all strangers. At least, that's how John Jones sees it since he's lonely and the strangest stranger. He also seems to think everybody is cold and they're all trying to get warm. Is that because he's always cold since fire will kill him? Or is he just paranoid being around humans because he knows how much they love fire?

This is the bottom half of the page. The top half was where Jones really obsessed over strangers, loneliness, and fire.

After Jones sits done, he's hassled by a Beatnik who recognizes a kindred, outsider spirit. He reads either a parody of Howl or the version of Howl written by the Ginsberg from the DC Universe. Was this guy just trying to pass off a poorer version of Howl as his own poetry? Or did Gerard Jones just want us to recognize Howl without having to get clearance for using it (and also because Howl uses the word "negro" in the first few lines which this guy is paraphrasing and maybe DC was all, "Um, nope")? I can't help but feel that Howl contains the basic theme of Gerard Jones' story now. Thousands of American lives destroyed by the status quo, by the suburbs, by the scared and easily intimidated, by the overbearing cops and inconsiderate laws, the nearly impossible to follow for some social expectations, by poverty, by racism, by Martians, by, well, you know, America?

What are these upstanding, non-Juvenile Delinquent crewcuts doing in a jazz café?! Aside from the good work of bullying people into being "normal".

John Jones loses interest in the murder because now he's interested in this new quiz program, The Big Question. If a big lunkheaded crewcut could answer the big question on The Big Question, it can't be that hard, right? Although why, other than curiosity, Jones gives a shit about it, I don't know. But he does because he heads back to the cops and the dead body. They ask him if he learned anything and he says, "Nothing. But more importantly, what's The Big Question?" And the cops get super excited and tell him all about it. The corpse does not say, "Hey, man! Dead body here! Can I get a little justice?" Because it's dead.

John Jones heads back to the hotel where he's staying for the Forensics Conference where the bellboy offers to get him a prostitute. He refuses because he's rather get stuck into a nice glass of milk and The Big Question. But before it even gets started, he turns it off to meditate. About not being lonely!

Meanwhile, a conversation in a nearby room proves John's point about loneliness.

Finding no comfort in his Martian meditation with Rachel and Jake screaming away downstairs, John decides to eat some Oreos, drink his milk, and watch the end of The Big Question. He's curious about why humans enjoy trivia so he decides he'll check out a taping of the show the next day. That's the day the current champion might get to answer the big question! John hasn't thought about the murdered Beatnik once all night.

Of course The Big Question is rigged because television wants to make sure it keeps kicking the ass of the movies. So when Detective John Jones shows up on set, everybody freaks the fuck out.

Somebody near the scene of a crime mentioned your show?! Maybe Martian Manhunter should have taken the alias Dirk Gently.

Martian Manhunter running a holistic detective agency isn't that far-fetched since he's telepathic. Even if he's not outright reading people's minds, he's probably more attuned to the connections between things. If Batman had forgotten all about the murder because somebody mentioned a quiz show and then became obsessed with the quiz show only to figure out that the quiz show was connected to the murder, I'd purchase a ticket to New York, head down to DC's office building, and burn it to the fucking ground. But if Martian Manhunter figures this connection out through telepathy and vibes? Well, that's kind of what he does!

So Jones hangs out to watch the show and is treated to seeing the champion go off script during the taping.

Goddamn! Who's sponsoring this show?! ConSec?

The director explains to everybody in the studio that the champion's head exploding was just a technical illusion. That's a good enough explanation for what happened because nobody wants to believe that they just witnessed a woman's head explode. Plus, Miss Joy, the champion, seemingly steps out from backstage and re-enters the booth! Only this time, she chooses horticulture like a person who wants to keep living. But before she answers The Big Question, she goes full on Body Snatcher on Martian Manhunter.

Don't worry! I'll get a They Live! reference in here somewhere!

Apparently the people running The Big Question are shape-shifters trying to take over the world! Or, at the very least, the world of game shows. But this creature that can see John when he's invisible who could also take the form of the recently dead champion has a lot in common with Martian Manhunter! Except they seem to be evil so let me guess: white Martian? It also explains what happened at the café. A Beatnik who could somehow see the aliens in their true forms (because Beatniks, man, are like in touch with The Real, dig?) realized two women at the café were aliens. So they chased him out of the café and shot him with, I don't know, laser eyes, I guess? Then they shifted into two macho crewcuts and headed back into the café where they basically shit on their cover right into John's brain.

Later at a local diner, Phil, one of the alien crew at The Big Question and Eddie, an alien singer, discuss how they're aliens. And they also prove me wrong about my speculation as to why Gerard Jones didn't quote Howl correctly.

Did I mention this was taking place in the '50s or did I just allude to it?

Will John feel more lonely learning that there are aliens doing exactly what he's doing on Earth? Pretending to be human? Why haven't they exposed themselves to him? Why don't they want to befriend another alien fooling humans the exact same way they are? I mean, obviously not the exact same way because that's the whole point of this story, probably! "Look at how J'onn J'onzz lies to the human race! Look at him pretending to be something he's not! He's manipulating them, gaslighting them, using them for his own gain and comfort!" But then we get to see how terrible aliens take advantage of the same power and skill set. Afterward, we go, "Oh, okay! J'onn is one of the good ones!"

No wait! Dammit! That isn't the conclusion I meant to come up with! Um, I think I'd better keep reading to find out what Gerard Jones' point is! Because I'm sure it's not that!

John Jones, Detective, saunters into the diner to ask Phil some questions. Turns out Jones remembers seeing Phil at Le Chat Noire as well as The Big Question. And when you're a holistic detective, there are no coincidences.

Phil's just fired Eddie. Eddie leaves in a huff, threatening to do some weird alien revenge shit, as Phil's new talent, Perkins Preston (not an alien), arrives with some information that Jones will find interesting: he seems to believe that some people in this world are actually lizards! He learned this from a guy in Times Square handing out pamphlets which, since this is the '50s, must be where David Icke learned about it. Jones, knowing he's basically one of these lizard people, believes this kid. There's a secret in America and Martian Manhunter is going to discover those American secrets!

Jones, knowing his investigative methods don't make any Earth sense (but they might make Martian sense!), heads to Times Square to find the guy with the lizard pamphlets. The man's a cartoonist who used to work for Nuts Magazine but was fired for drawing too many lizards in the marginalia. While he's picking up some Nuts Magazines for evidence, Jones discovers Earth pornography.

I guess weirdoes don't read this because they'll see that all the naked women have lizard heads.

On the way back to the hotel, tired from a night of Martian investigating, Martian Manhunter learns about Hydrox cookies and capitalism.

"What's wrong wit' chyu dat you don't know dis shit? You an alien or sumpin?"

The next day, Jones attends the Forensics Conference where he learns all about how police will one day investigate crime using nothing but science! Jones tells the other guests at the conference how he's been investigating the Beatnik murder but not by following evidence at all. Instead he's been using anti-science by following hunches and references and comic books and lizard-headed people. Most of the other conference goers laugh it off but some guy named Swift is all, "Where are you staying so that I can send somebody to murder you tonight? I mean so we can discuss the dead Beatnik?" And Jones is all, "Here's my hotel and room number!" As a Martian, he's quite naïve when it comes to Earth customs like lying about your contact information and hiring assassins.

Shit! They've even got lizard-headed dogs!

I once worked with a woman named April who nicknamed Sassy the Social Butterfly simply because I'm the most charming piece of shit anybody's ever met. One night we were out cleaning floors of various 7-Elevens when I brought up David Icke's lizard people. She got really quiet and stared at me for some time before quietly asking, "You know about the lizard people?" What I'm saying is that I could have been killed! Luckily, April wasn't a lizard person; she was just merely terrified of them. Whew! Sassy escapes death once again!

I would think running around New York with your lizard heads out leading a couple of lizard dogs around on leashes killing people who have heard of the lizard-headed ones might be more dangerous to your secret than just letting Martian Manhunter continue his investigation while spreading misinformation that he's pretending to be a detective from Denver with a history of schizophrenia! How have these idiots kept their secret for this long when they can't resist blowing up women's heads, shooting Beatniks on the street, and destroying hotel rooms to murder some nosy investigator?

During the fight, the television is smashed and a fire starts. The lizard guys realize quickly that the fire weakens Jones. Martian Manhunter flees before they can get the upper hand, smashing through several floors of the hotel and seeing some titties on the way.

Is Black Canary fucking Clark Kent?!

The next day, Jones begins investigating for real. He sneaks around Phil's office, the one guy he knows is in on the conspiracy, and hears some mobsters give him the order to fill all the jukeboxes in town with teenage singers. He's got to wipe everything else, even Frank Sinatra! Hoo boy! That's big news and directly from, um, Cuba! Oh no! The Juvenile Delinquents with their rock music and their horny crotches are being controlled by the Communists! This is huge! Except it's not, um, lizard people huge. But I guess the lizard people are controlling the media which is being used to control the teenagers which is being used to turn them against the status quo.

Oh man. I thought it was bad when I guessed the theme of this comic might be about seeing how Martian Manhunter is one of the good minorities. But now it's even worse because isn't this a bit, um, Jews Control Everything? I'm getting scared, guys. Hold me?

Jones confronts Phil and he spontaneously combusts. At least that's what it would look like to a detective who isn't investigating in a holistic way! Phil was probably murdered by the lizards for saying too much about Cuba to a non-lizard head! Preston Presley (or whatever his fake DC Elvis name is) runs into the office screaming about how the lizard people are all over the building. Jones points out that there's not easy way out of New York because the cops are corrupt. Preston, being the king of rock and roll Juvenile Delinquents, says, "Duh!" But Prelvis has an idea! They can take his pink Cadillac and escape! Time for the climactic chase scene!

Patty Marie was on The Big Question Junior. We saw her briefly in a previous scan. I think her mother slash agent was a lizard head.

Prelvis manages to evade the cops and the trio head over one of the bridges to escape the city. Prelvis sees a sign for "Leavitzville" and claims, "That's where we can go to be safe! The suburbs!" Oh man! The naivete of people in the '50s! Just this night I was listening to Rush's Subdivisions and thinking about how crazy it is that so many people think of the suburbs as some idyllic setting. Even The Monkees saw how terrible it was! But as they drive into the suburbs thinking that they're going to find safety, I breathe a sigh of relief because I now know that Gerard Jones isn't writing a story about how some minorities are good or how the Jews control everything. This story is about critiquing white supremacy in America! Hallelujah!

Oh, sorry! I know some of you hate when comic books have messages that point out that the things you believe are the things bad people believe. But you know, y'all also think that somehow that's a new thing and hasn't always been the case. Probably because you're all so fucking stupid!

Martian Manhunter: American Secrets #1 Rating: A. This comic books gets an A but it was close, man! If my reading comprehension hadn't kicked in at the last moment due to Gerard Jones slapping me in the face with the white supremacy theme by having Martian Manhunter escape into the destination for all the white flight motherfuckers of the '50s, I would have been all, "This comic book gets a D+ for making me uncomfortable with some of its messaging!" Of course, I could still be wrong! There are two more issues left and for all I know, Gerard Jones might end with some kind of message proclaiming age of consent laws are the true subjugation of freedom. Oh yeah, and your mom likes her toes sucked!

Hmm, I've got to work on my debasing people's moms material.