Eclipso: The Darkness Within: Flash Annual #5 (June 1992)

This cover is almost a goatse!

Eclipso: The Darkness Within: Flash Annual #5 (June 1992)
By Mark Waid, Craig Boldman, Travis Charest, Dan Davis, Scott Hanna, John Lowe, Timothy Harkins, and Matt Hollingsworth
Cover by Travis Charest and Dan Davis
Edited by Brian Michael Augustyn

The Cover!
This is dangerous territory for a critic (and while I might not be a critic, I am intensely critical). I've heard that some idiot's mother once said something about not saying anything at all rather than dropping your drawers and shitting all over Travis Charest. But I don't get many opportunities to do it so why would I listen to that idiot's mother (who is also an idiot)? I had the opportunity to express my displeasure with his work on Darkstars and one of the covers of Robin III: Cry of the Huntress. I'll get another chance whenever I get to DC Showcase '93. But for now, here we have, basically, his first professional gig (being that this was released in 1992 and Showcase '93 in — you guessed it — 1993). And for his first cover, Travis decided to go with 60% solid black inks. Since this is an Eclipso story, I'll allow that it was a fine, if lazy, idea. About 30% of the rest of the cover, as we'll see in his general artwork (I'm assuming since I haven't actually opened this book for thirty-four years), lines. Lines, lines, and more lines is something I'm assuming Travis's art teacher once told him five thousand times. "If you think you have enough lines, you don't! Only when you're dizzy with vertigo from all the lines will your be able to declare your work finished!" Judging by that metric, Travis Charest has knocked this cover out of the ballpark. I just wish I hadn't been standing in the parking lot to catch it.

So many lines . . . going to . . . vomit . . .

The Story So Far
I don't know. Eclipso has eclipsed a number of heroes but not enough. I guess he's got Bruce Gordon's girlfriend's hot ass now as well as a handful of actual heroes, none of them that impressive: Starman, Hal Jordan, Star Sapphire, The Creeper, Valor. I'm not sure if he managed to capture Etrigan because my Eclipso Demon Annual isn't with this batch of Eclipso books being that I actually collected The Demon at the time. So it's with them.

The Story
The issue begins with me thinking, "I knew I came here to make fun of Travis Charest but I didn't think I'd get Mark Waid in my sights as well."

The only way this conversation makes sense is if it's one of The Kids in the Hall sketches where they make fun of stupid cops (i.e., all cops).

It's possible (probable, even, but I'm being purposefully dense right now) that the panel makes perfect sense but I've been programmed to understand fanny in the British sense and now I'm picturing somebody wiggling their fanny and most of the blood has left my brain for a secret location on my body. If you're over 18, you can drop me an email and I'll tell you what secret body part that is. If you're under 18, you probably already know I meant my penis.

The cops discuss how much they know about and love nuts while The Flash runs by on a nightly jog. Wally decides to investigate because an optometrist building nearby, the one the cop was talking about, wasn't there the day before. I would have stopped to investigate to make sure either the cop wasn't suffering from a nut allergy or an ape wasn't impersonating a cop. One of those reasons.

At this point in Travis Charest's career, he had never actually seen a human face.

The cop who wanted the other cop to do a sexy little dance earlier happens to be so hungry he's getting a headache. Luckily, they find a can of nuts on the ground so why not eat up? Free trash still in the can? Delicious! The big twist is that the can of nuts was rolled out into the street by The Trickster so you know it won't have nary a nut inside it. It's probably full of raisins. Ha ha! What a trick that would be!

I should offer up a correction and say that the cops were actually night deposit security men? You know, the kinds of guys who drive armored trucks full of money around. But they do it at night because it's more dangerous and easier to be robbed? And that's what The Trickster's doing. The Flash can't stop him because Weather Wizard appears at just the right time to freeze Wally in a block of ice. It doesn't kill him though because, um, comic books, I guess. He also doesn't vibrate out of it because Wally sucks (which the Rogues make sure to mention, of course. "Barry Barry Barry!" they say while then saying, "Barry! Barry Barry!"). They get away to go have a secret Rogues Gallery meeting while The Flash thaws out, goes home, and has a mini-adventure inside his friend Chunk's butthole. I mean black hole. I don't know. It was weird. If it has anything to do with the rest of the story, I'll mention it then. Otherwise, I'm moving on and ignoring it.

If only he had been in Chunk's butthole though! You would have had a play-by-play of that encounter!

Captain Cold has sent out an invitation to the Rogues for an emergency meeting. I guess they meet in a movie theater because why not be complete and utter pieces of shit when you're already mostly a piece of shit? The people trying to watch the movie do this thing to show their disapproval of other people talking through the film. Here it is:

I can't believe they actually went there! Such harsh criticism!

I wonder if Mark Waid just wrote in his script, "Have the other movie-goers show their disapproval," and Travis was all, "Oh, a thumbs down! That's like an international sign that nobody would ever use but I'll have everybody in the theater use it as if it's a common thing to do!" I mean, maybe it was a common thing to do in a '90s movie theater and my choice of yelling, "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS!" was a bit too Avant Garde for most people.

Later, Chillblaine doesn't know how to cross his arms and the Rogues share their love of Tuesday.

I think Travis asked a friend to pose with their arms crossed and then, having to think about how they cross their arms instead of just doing it, panicked and came up with that.

But before Tuesday comes around so that everybody can, I don't know, fuck it, I guess?, everybody has to get through Monday just chillin'.

I guess Mondays are for masturbation?

Mondays are also for kidnapping Wally West which is what Chillblaine, the least chill of the group, does with his day. Chillblaine just seems to be some raging Alpha bag full of testosterone that Golden Glider's currently fucking. I guess her brother, Captain Cold, was in jail at the time so Chillblaine's taken his place in with the Rogues. Nobody likes him because he can't cross his arms correctly and he's a dick.

Turns out Mondays are actually for each of the Rogues to stab each other in the back by doing the Tuesday job on their own one day early. It doesn't work out because they all do it which means it probably worked out perfectly for Chillblaine and Golden Glider who knew they would all attempt the job early. That's just stories work when you've got a writer who decides that plans always work out perfectly until they finally don't for some reason which is weird because all the things that happen in a plan are usually wildly implausible and then a normal thing in the plan's chain breaks and I'm always all, "Wait. What? THAT didn't work?! The easiest part of the plan?! But the part where the plan relied on the hero to take two minutes longer than usual on his morning shit because they fed him some extra fiber did work?!"

I'm guessing The Flash's secret identity isn't secret (I assume this because all of his villains are always all, "Barry was way better at this than you!") or else why would Chillblaine want to kidnap Wally West? Fuck, I just realized I don't even know what Wally West's regular job was. I'm going to guess "slacker" which is why he probably doesn't have a secret identity. He's all, "See?! I'm not lazy! You're lazy! Because you're all so fucking slow is what I'm saying! Idiots!"

Oh, um, well, there you go! Question answered!

I'm such a dumb jerk. I just realized Chillblaine is probably Starman. This whole plan to trick the Rogues into stealing the Black Diamond and kidnapping The Flash so he can send him on their tail is the entire Eclipso plan! I probably would have figured it out a long time ago if I didn't spend several days between each page I read.

I'm 27 pages in and I know I haven't been giving Travis Charest the hard time I promised. You can see in the panels I've scanned why I would want to give him a hard time but Mark Waid's script is also pretty fucking bad so I've been a bit distracted. But I thought I should maybe give Trav his big chance at being insulted by me, the greatest comic book critic on the Internet! But that's when Golden Glider showed up and my brain was all, "Hey, he does nice tits, doesn't he?" And I was all, "Hey, Brain? Could you stop trying to get a response out of Dick? You know he's 54, right? He doesn't just hop-to at a couple of nicely drawn titties. He needs story these days! He needs, say, a pirate whose cousin has just come aboard his ship after they hadn't seen each other for fifteen years and she's wearing tight leather pants and a billowy shirt that keeps billowing almost enough to see nipple (which you can see anyway through the shirt what with the cool breeze blowing and also she probably iced them up before the shot). And she's all, "Oh my god! I'm so horny after my encounter with those eight sex mermaids who did all kinds of disgusting things to me but couldn't finish me off because I need some serious man penetration!" And then her cousin is all, "Yeah, me too! Lucky I run a gay pirate ship!" And then he hands her an eight-dicked octopus dildo and says, "Maybe this will help!" And she's all, "Well, it's better than nothing. But can I at least watch all y'all gays fuck as fuck myself raw?" And he's all, "Actually, tonight is Scrabble night!" And she's all, "Fuck! I love Scrabble! I can pleasure myself later!" And then there's like two hours of exciting Scrabble play and what was I talking about?"

Luckily the tits were kind of hard to see in this panel so I noticed a few other things wrong with it. See if you can spot them too!

I guess the main thing wrong with that panel is that Chillblaine must be about ten feet tall. But maybe that's not wrong because is he ten feet tall? The other problem I have with that picture is this: Where did the '90s artists who were so bad at art and yet so beloved by idiot comic book lovers all learn to draw the same stupid faces? This is how Travis draws faces but it may as well be Rob Liefeld or Marat Mychaels. Probably others but, like, I never read Pre-Image Marvel and then Image. I definitely never looked at a cover of any of the '90s X-Men off-shoots or Image books and thought, "Holy shit that looks amazing! I have to buy it!" To me, it all read exactly like the cover of Doom Force. That was a parody that got it so exactly right.

It turns out Wally West has been attached to the sphere in which the Black Diamond is kept. Golden Glider poisons the Rogues by fucking them with her poison puss and then tells them that whichever gets the Black Diamond away from Flash gets the antidote. Okay, maybe Starman is actually Golden Glider since she's thought up this overly complicated plan to Eclipse The Flash. My plan, if I were Eclipso, would be to possess a worker at Wally's favorite pizza place, put a bunch of the wrong toppings on one of his pizzas along with the Black Diamond, and then when he finds the Diamond and takes it off the pizza, he'll be super pissed at them getting the order wrong. Then after he destroys the pizza chain and kills a bunch of teenage employees, he'll be free to do Eclipso's bidding!

Instead The Flash battles Captain Boomerang in a fight so confusing that I still don't know what happened. I'm not sure Travis Charest understood Waid's script and completely fucked up the fight scene.

Go ahead. Make sense of that yourself! I can't look at it anymore. I've thrown up on my laptop six times from line-induced vertigo!

What happened (which was not represented visually at all except vaguely one time) was that Captain Boomerang threw a boomerang that split every time it was hit but then it kept flying around and/or at Wally as if it had been thrown like a real boomerang. So when The Flash is spinning in that one panel, I guess he's causing all the little boomerangs (millions at this point? I don't know because Travis only ever drew three boomerangs (the first one and then a panel with two more that you really had to work hard to interpret that they were born of the first one) to orbit him so he can smash them all back at their source? And somehow when he smashes them back at the source, this time they didn't all split when struck because they were, um, confused from the spinning?

I think maybe Travis's art goes pretty well with Waid's script! Well paired! Like Dog Urine Rosé and Cat Shit Linguine!

Speaking of Doom Force, there's an advert for it in this issue! "Hey kids! Are you currently making fun of the art you're seeing right now? Well see how Grant Morrison, Keith Giffen, and Steve Pugh make fun of it!"

So a whole bunch of confusing battle happens. I can't follow hardly any of it once The Flash smashes through the ceiling riding a spout of Weather Wizard's water. Everybody gets lost. Nobody knows what's what. Glider and Chillblaine actually fuck downstairs during the battle. The Black Diamond they're fighting over turns out to be a bomb of some kind and The Flash rushes outside to throw it in the air where it can explode harmlessly. But does he run out and hammer throw it on the end of its tether? No. He puts it in a wheelchair and then push-throws the wheelchair into the sky? Like, um, that was actually more difficult? Barry would have done the hammer throw, dude.

Anyway, The Flash winds up Eclipsed because he gets mad when his friend Chunk shows up and doesn't save him. Um. What? I'm not even sure why Chunk was there. Some mystery person in a sleek car lured him over. Starman, maybe? I bet it was revealed in the script but Travis Charest didn't know how to convey the reveal in images and so he just left the unknown person as glowing eyes and a smile in the darkness.

The Ranking!
Absolute dogshit. Saying this is dogshit might be an insult to the colon of a dog because why would I accuse it of being able to push out something this fucking horrible. I'd rather step in dogshit than read this comic book again. I wonder if I drank three liters of vodka right now, the ensuing black-out would incorporate this moment into it and I could forget I ever read it. No, I'd better forget that rout. Every sci-fi story in existence where somebody chose to forget something always winds up with the person so curious about what they forgot and why that they seek out the memory. I'd like to assume that I trust myself enough to not seek out the reason I chose memory loss over the memory but I also think I should trust better writers before me and the lessons they've tried to teach. I didn't read nearly every book by Philip K. Dick and not learn a little something about, um, memory loss and delusional identity disorders?

Detective Comics #653 (November 1992)

Has The Huntress never used a crossbow before?

I'm going to give my poor boy Travis Charest a break on this one. Don't say I never did the absolute barest anything I possibly could for you, Travis! In fact, I'll give you a compliment: I would wear the shit out of Huntress's boots. I was going to be way more vulgar with my compliment but nobody wants to hear how I would absolutely ruin The Huntress's perfect little butthole. No, no! I'm not going to explain it! You'll just have to wonder if I was going to shove something up it or feed her my Five Alarm Chili.

Oh wait! I have another compliment: The Batman balloon The Huntress is trying to keep from blowing away in the wind looks like a super convincing 2-D blow-up person!

Last issue ended with the Gotham Police threatening to arrest Batman and The Huntress for stopping a criminal ring of jewelry thieves. Mostly it's because the Gotham Police are realistically corrupt but partially it's because the criminals have diplomatic immunity which prevents any justice from being taken against them what-so-ever. I grew up in the late '70s so popular culture has convinced me that that's totally how that works. Other things I learned: Killer Bees would invade California and make it unlivable; the Bermuda Triangle was the most dangerous place on Earth; and plants could communicate telepathically. It's possible I didn't learn the diplomatic immunity thing until the '80s and Lethal Weapon II though.

"Also, who the fuck did your hair, lady? It looks like you meant to pick the #5 but you pointed to some kid on the little league team your salon sponsors."

I understand sponsoring little league teams and customers pointing out the number of a haircut is more of a barber shop thing where boring men try to look like other boring men. But that Gotham Cop whom I was imagining saying that doesn't know that! He doesn't know anything about hair salons and stylists. Although he does know enough to see The Huntress's hair is fucking wrecked.

If I Photoshopped The Huntress's cape to yellow and cut about three inches off the length of her hair, the panel would just look like any other Batman and Robin panel.

Hmm. I'd like Robin so much more if he had tits. Is that why I like Carrie Kelley so much? Am I a slave to my male gaze? Wasn't that a Skid Row song?

Batman believes in justice but he fucking hates the law. He has so little respect for cops it makes me love him even more. He doesn't even bother arguing with the police; he just throws down a smoke bomb and flees. The Huntress is all, "How does this work? You gonna change costumes and never be Batman again so they can't keep trying to arrest you?" And Batman is all, "You noticed earlier how I must have a ton of money, right? And what do cops love more than beating the fuck out of minorities? Right. Bribes!" So they easily get away while the cops tell the foreign criminals to just drop it because they've seen what Batman does to henchmen and, being cops, they're not willing to suffer even the slightest physical pain for the job.

"Look. I'll wear the uniform and I'll collect the paycheck. But don't actually expect me to solve any crimes. Not enough overtime for that."

I don't know if I'm being too harsh on The Huntress's hairstyle or not. I'm just this ignorant person who finds both Aubrey Plaza and Jemaine Clement sexy. What does that say about my ability to judge a person's haircut? Nothing, I guess. But I do know what I haven't been harsh enough on: the Batmobile of 1992.

What an ugly piece of shit!

Batman's very nearly driving a chode. Does it always look this bad or did Graham Nolan draw it this way to force it to fit into the panel? This car is like a self-published book that's never had a whiff of an editor about it. Nobody's going to tell Batman what his car should look like! "I'm going to shape it like my dick no matter how hard you fucking roll your eyes, Alfred!"

Before dropping Huntress off, Batman reminds her that he already has a partner with a shit haircut so she shouldn't get any ideas about their working together again. That's very feminist of Batman. Most guys would be glad to have a hot woman work with them because they're sexist bastards. But Batman doesn't care how hot the woman is; she's not taking the job from a young, out-of-work boy. I, being way more sexist, would absolutely have kicked Tim Drake to the queue out front of the unemployment office to work every night with The Huntress. Then three days later, I'd be hit with a sexual harassments lawsuit and lose everything. My brain would be sad but my dick would be all, "It was worth it!" Stupid dick. It always makes the worst decisions and is constantly throwing up. I think it might be on drugs.

The next day, Batman goes undercover as a gas line repairman in order to infiltrate the embassy. Nobody finds it odd and nobody keeps an eye on him after they let him on the premises to investigate because I guess the day shift didn't hear about Batman and The Huntress breaking in the night before and causing trouble. I, a criminal genius, would have put everybody on high alert and beefed up security. But I guess it's not like Batman was driving the gas repair van. It was just some bald jerk with a terrible mustache with sunglasses that he continued to wear once inside the house. Not suspicious at all!

While Batman does real investigative work, The Huntress heads to the library to do research. As if Batman doesn't already have a voice-activated computer system hooked up via wi-fi to the Batcave that can answer any questions he asks it in a matter of seconds. Unless that's all kayfabe and it's really Alfred doing research as quickly as possible on the other end of the line.

"Neeeeeigh! Libraries are for nerds!"

Helena learns that Krasna-Volny was at war with a country called Transbelvia for hundreds of years before both were subsumed by the Ottoman Empire. But then after the Berlin wall fell and the Eastern bloc nations were left to fend for themselves, Krasna-Volny and Transbelvia got right back into the swing of things. I guess racial animosities never die; they're just briefly quieted by a larger, angrier nation of jerks. The Huntress decides to check if Transbelvia also has an embassy in Gotham and, holy shit, would you believe that they do?! Why would these two nations have Gotham City embassies?! It reeks of crime! Also the Transbelvian embassy is located in a Motor Lodge and their cars with diplomatic plates are all rentals. That also reeks of crime! Helena smells something super fishy but decides to call it a day and see what Batman's found out.

Batman has Robin doing research and he finds out a lot more using a computer than Helena found out using stupid books. Take that, print media! Although in not too many decades, nobody will be able to read the information on any of the devices information is currently stored on and the printed page will be all, "Ha ha! Our time has come back round at last! Eat ink, techfucker!"

I take it back. Robin's haircut isn't shit at all. It's entirely adequate.

As you can see, Batman's too ashamed to admit he's working with The Huntress. That means he's more sexist than I thought or he's got a cute little crush on her! Third possibility: Robin would cry if he found out. But then Robin will get to work with her in a year or so and he won't tell Batman. So all the deception sort of works out in the end! Is that how relationships work? If you deceive me and I deceive you and nobody ever finds out, our relationship is super strong and everything is going really well?

In other words, I don't want the kid to fuck up my groove, dude.

Batman and The Huntress meet up to exchange information. Batman doesn't tell Huntress any of the shit Robin found out because BORING. Instead, he mentions that he found weapons in the basement of the Krasna-Volny embassy. The Huntress tells Batman what she learned at the library and Batman makes snoring noises as he pretends to fall asleep. They decide the best course of action is to just sit in a tree and watch the embassy.

Eventually a car leaves the embassy in the middle of the night and Batman and Huntress follow in Helena's Lamborghini.

The letter messed up the dialogue. It should read "less conspicuous than that tool you rocket around in."

Batman's face does not agree with his answer of "Fine" about Helena's driving. He looks like the co-pilot flying with Nathan Fielder in the final episode of The Rehearsal, Season Two. Mostly that's probably because Batman never gives up control, ever. Has he ever been in the passenger seat of a car before or after this?

Batman and Huntress tail the Krasna-Volny diplomats to a park with the statue of a Gotham war hero. The hero happens to be Transbelvian. A banner over the street leading to the park mentions there's going to be a parade soon to celebrate this hero. So all of a sudden, this little shit country that nobody had ever heard of before this suddenly has an active community in Gotham with a long history with statues celebrating that history. And yet the embassy for the country from which the people of this community originate has all the hallmarks of a temporary set-up. What the fuck is going on? I'm sure Batman already knew all of this bullshit but hadn't said anything because he likes to keep as much information to himself so that nobody else makes any leaps of logic and solves the mystery before he does. He's worse than Sherlock Holmes.

The day of the parade and festival — Transbelvia's version of the Italians' Columbus Day — arrives and Batman and The Huntress stake it out. They know the Krasna-Volnians will probably attack the festivities in some way. But Batman also doesn't want to stop the attack because the attack will be the reason to get them deported. I guess some people will just have to die in a massive bombing so that Batman stops some jewelry thieves.

I accidentally and purposefully just tore this comic book in half after reading that "NOT" joke from The Huntress. Ugh. Fuck this shit. F-!

Be fucking thankful you're living in the age of everybody saying, "That's what she said!", even though that's just as fucking dumb (probably because it was started by the same fucking person!). Sure, it's stupid and unoriginal and boring as all the levels of the Abyss to respond, "That's what she said!", to the most obvious things. But at least it takes the slightest modicum of cleverness and wit to realize when to say it. Back in the '90s, idiots were constantly saying the opposite of what they meant and then yelling, "NOT!", like it was the funniest fucking thing they'd ever heard! Well, I wouldn't stand for it then and I won't stand for it now. This comic book review is over!

Detective Comics #653 Rating: F-. NOT! Ha ha! Oh man! That was a good one! Here's one more scene after The Huntress captures the main Krasna-Volny terrorist ready to suicide bomb the entire festival, throws him in a van, and drives the van into Gotham Bay where the man explodes underwater. The Huntress almost drowns but Batman saves her so that he can remind her that he doesn't like her because she kills while he doesn't because allowing The Huntress to drive away with the terrorist so that he explodes in safety isn't an action. It's the opposite of an action so Batman didn't kill the guy. He obviously couldn't have stopped The Huntress and disarmed the bomb himself! Could he have? I mean, well, he's, like, Batman? Anyway, I'm sure he couldn't have done any of that or else you might be able to argue that he killed the guy by allowing The Huntress to kill the guy so that he couldn't be blamed for killing the guy.

That's what she said!

Detective Comics #652 (Late October 1992)

Oh, Travis Charest, my boy. God bless you.

It was only at this moment that I dressed up in Nazi garb, put on my best David Mitchell impression, and asked, "Am I the elitist?" Because when I look at Travis Charest's art, all I see is a person who is decent at art and maybe trying their best to emulate the comic book artists that came before them, but still has a long way to go before they're getting professional gigs. But, of course, he's got the professional gig already so am I wrong about it? That's not what makes me an elitist, though! What makes me an elitist is that if I thought that Travis Charest was a great artist who has done many different pieces over his career, in many different styles, I might actually look at this and think, "Stylistically, there's something interesting going on here." In other words, I'm judging this piece by poor Travis within a certain set of parameters that I've established in my mind. If I felt this style was a choice, I might applaud it. But sensing that this style is the best attempt Travis is making at doing comic book art (or laziest?), I find it not quite up to snuff. "Not quite up to snuff" is New Me speak for "absolute dripping bloody dreck with undigested corn chunks!"

In the past, some people have really gotten on my case about judging artist's art. Their main argument has been, "Let's see you do better!" And while the job of a critic isn't to prove that they're better than the things they criticize, I probably could attempt to draw this to back up my critique. But I won't for a few reasons. One, even if I drew this scene worse than Travis did (and, believe me, I would), I wouldn't ask DC to pay me for the work. Two, if I managed to draw this exactly as Travis has, I would be embarrassed, crumple it up, and throw it away to try again. And by "try again", I don't mean try to redraw it; I mean come up with a different career path.

Travis probably won't ever read this, right? I hope not because I don't mean to make him feel bad. My most venomous reviews of comic books are never proof that the artists or writers are terrible at their job; my most venomous reviews of comic books are proof that I hate myself and am, mentally, not doing well. Maybe Travis's art speaks the same for Travis! Maybe Travis just wasn't feeling very confident and sexually attractive when he drew this picture of The Huntress moments before she died from having her organs crushed by a too-tight belt.

Look at The Huntress's streamlined feet too! So cute and stylized! I'd really adore them if I knew the real reason they looked that way was because Travis didn't really care much about drawing feet. He was so gung-ho to draw that ass, he couldn't give a shit about the rest of the cover.

I don't know why I purchased this comic book back in 1992 but I could take a guess based on some clues in the previous paragraphs: I fucking hated myself and just didn't feel great about my life. Also maybe that ass.

Why is that a question? Is he asking the hostages what he should do to them?

As you can see, the rest of the issue isn't drawn by Travis Charest. To enjoy more of that art, you'll have to purchase old issues of WildC.A.T.S. or read some of my Darkstars reviews. I hope I didn't praise Travis's art in those reviews! Boy, I sure would be embarrassed if I sounded like a hypocrite!

That was sarcastic. I don't care if I sound like a hypocrite because I don't owe anybody the unending minutiae of the context of my life that makes all of my opinions perfectly viable with every other opinion, even if to a non-expert on me, it might sound like I contradict myself all the time. Maybe read Infinite Jest. That'll help explain that to you if you don't already understand it even if I've felt that way about being a hypocrite most of my life and I only just read Infinite Jest this year. It's one of the reasons I can't stand trying to communicate with people, especially on the Internet. Too often, people aren't dialoguing with other people; they're just looking for inconsistencies in people's ideas to pounce on them and give themselves a reason to not believe anything else the person ever says. Usually they're wrong about those inconsistencies because every fucking situation is different from every other situation and if you ever point to one of my opinions on one thing to show that it contradicts my opinion on a totally different thing, you can very politely fuck all the way off back up into your mother's uterus. Which I've just recently lovingly spackled with my love plaster.

A corollary to people trying to prove other people are hypocrites are people who are so careful about the things they believe because they feel everything has to back up some foundational text which upholds the rest of their ideology. These people often miss the historically right side of an issue in the present because they're so concerned about the way their beliefs interweave between more than one situation. If you don't know what people I'm talking about, forget it! I didn't mean nothing by it! Can't we all just get along?

I'm turning over a new leaf as of July 18th, 2025! I'm no longer burning bridges! I'm now just pissing on them. Oh, sure, I'll still fucking hate every MAGA chud until the day one shoots me in the face and then claims self-defense because one of the lessons they've learned the best is that if they kill the second side of the story, their side is the only one the judge and jury get to hear. People who shoot other people in public disagreements do so because they're either the biggest cowards on the planet and feel that their life is always in danger from another person carrying around a gun like they are (cops are a good example of this) or they just want to find an excuse to murder somebody and believe they'll get away with it on claims of self-defense (cops are a good example of this). Anyway, I'd rather be shot in the head than live one second of my life afraid that somebody else might shoot me in the head if I don't carry a fucking gun around with me. Grow up, you dickheads.

Why does that shopper have a Tesco bag? Is Gotham City in the United Kingdom?

None of the artists are from the UK so what the fuck, man? Even colorist Adrienne Roy wasn't. Tesco never had a store in New York, did it?! I guess somebody was just a fan!

As you can see, the Narrator thinks these robbers are fucking stupid. I'd guess the narrator would be Batman but The Huntress is also on the cover and I think she's pretty judgmental too. It would be nice if somebody would come along, say somebody like Scott Lobdell, and fix it so all Narration Boxes begin, "My name is So-And-So. I fight crime and talk like I'm doing commentary on a LaserDisc."

Just a second. I need to go check eBay for a used working LaserDisc player! BRB! Holy shit they're more expensive than they were 35 years ago!

I really miss owning two thing: a LaserDisc player and my 1972 Volkswagen Bus. Also all of my cats over the years but I didn't own them. I wouldn't say, "I miss owning two things: my grandmother and my grandfather."

The Narrator turns out to be The Huntress, whichever fucking version it was in 1992. Helena Bertinelli, I guess? She's apparently been "out of the game" for some time so doesn't feel confident stopping the robbers. She just watches as a subway transit cop gets gunned down while she thinks, "He was outgunned. Should have known better. Dumber than the robbers." Okay, maybe she's not that judgmental. That was all me.

Helena watches Batman beat the shit out of the criminals as she thinks about how much she loved it but how scared she is now.

Not once does she think, "I am going to sue the fuck out of my hairdresser."

So Helena has given up being The Huntress until she runs into Batman in the subway and she makes her wet herself (in the good way not the bad way) and that's a sign to be The Huntress again? This moment, the way I depicted it, is so incestual if you bother to think about the original Huntress which you probably don't because Crisis On Infinite Earths erased all of that continuity and now only people suffering from The Mandela Effect remember it. Or anybody who read any comic books post-Crisis in which the creators were all, "Let's bring back Helena Wayne!" Too bad their second thought wasn't, "Maybe her head gets stuck in the washer at Wayne Mansion when Bruce suddenly walks in?" Because that would be terrible! In a comic book, there's no implied consent. In pornography, I think everything is implied consent! So if you're in a pornographic movie and you walk in on somebody naked from the waist down and they're top half is stuck in a washing machine or wood chipper, it's okay to have sex with them. Everybody is already asking for it if you're in a porno!

On her way back to her apartment, Helena Bertinelli notices two guys waiting to ambush her on the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Something else you want"? Dude, stop thinking past the money. You're holding a fucking board with a nail in it. Get her money, go buy a knife, than worry about whether or not your victim also has some Pokémon cards.

Helena beats the shit out of the muggers and kicks them down the stairs. Then she casually heads to her apartment and forgets about them. I hope they don't rush off and kill her uncle now! It'll be such a hard lesson to learn that nobody in the world will ever let anybody else in the world forget it! 'nuff said!

Inside Helena's apartment, we learn a little bit about her by the objects and creatures in the backgrounds.

She owns a cat and the Great American Novel, Assault Rifles. Oh, and a Dave Brubeck knock-off CD by "Dave Brubek".

The cat doesn't yet get a name but it's probably Selena or Isis. Les Misérables' spine is marked with a "V-H" to distinguish it as Victor Hugo's version and not C-M Schönberg's version. I'm assuming, and this might just be me, that she has The Right Stuff because she rubs herself silly re-reading the passage where Gus Grissom burns to death. I know that sounds terrible but doesn't it also sound sexy? Paul Haggis won an Academy Award for Best Picture suggesting that car crashes make people horny! I won't stand being called gross and disrespectful for suggesting the Helena is into snuff! Why else would she use a crossbow, a notoriously slow-to-load artifact of medieval battle?! She loves the visual of death by penetration!

You either get what I'm laying down or you're an uptight prude! There's no in-between! I SAID THERE'S NONE!

I just went back and re-read the beginning of this comic book and saw that Batman let the robbers get away because they grabbed hostages. I guess Batman could tell they weren't the kind of guys who are into killing hostages if they don't have to so he let them get away. Also if they wind up killing the hostages, it isn't Batman's fault! Batman doesn't kill! I mention that because Helena has decided to become The Huntress again to catch the robbers whom Batman let get away. And this isn't your slightly older sibling's The Huntress from, like, a year ago. This one is different!

This Huntress throws daggers into The Joker's penis shaft!

Helena doesn't just get her tits out and throw on the costume. No fucking way! She's a teacher, motherfucker! She's off to do research! Like how many knives can one dick take before death occurs? And how long can a woman have camel toe before her labia goes numb and falls off? Those are my guesses as to what kind of research she's going to do because I don't like her explanation: "A huntress has to know her prey." How the fuck is the library going to tell her about the men who robbed the jewelry store?!

Oh wait! I'm such an idiot! I forgot about newspapers and microfiche! She's going to find clues in proper and well done journalism! Good thing this story takes place in 1992 because she'd be shit out of luck if she had to rely on today's journalists.

She's still not thinking about suing her stylist.

Oh yeah! I forgot she saw an important tattoo on one of the criminals! I thought it was the flag of Wales!

The only time I ever remember using the library for information that wasn't school-related was when playing "Wizardry III: Legacy of Llylgamyn". One of the riddles went something like "I'm one of the deck of seventy-eight." There was more but I forget what it was. I figured it meant it was a Tarot card but I knew nothing about Tarot cards so it sent me to the library to do occult research! Later, I married Satan and sucked his dick. Thanks a lot, Robert Woodhead and Andrew Greenberg! I'm full of the devil's cum because of you!

By the way, I know the Welsh flag has like a dragon on it and not a griffon. But I was only half paying attention earlier. Remember how I had to go back to realize Batman let the robbers go? My mind was distracted but I can't remember what by. I'm almost 54! I was probably thinking about how some odd pain in my body was probably cancer.

After the library, Helena tries to hunt down some of the stolen goods.

Of course you feel eyes on you. Your stylist obviously doesn't have a current license to do hair!

Helena chances on a pawn shop where the clerk has the same accent she heard the criminals using. She doesn't immediately beat the shit out of him because she's not a cop. Instead, she plants a recorder or something under the display case to get more information. On the way out, she notices the bum that was checking her out earlier hanging about waiting for her. She chases him but he gets away because he's probably Batman going undercover. Which he is. Seems Batman needs to get better at being unobserved. Unless he wanted her to see him because he's got a lonely old bat-boner and she's fit and also I just remembered that she's, sort of, if you squint just right, his daughter. Gross!

Later that night, The Huntress runs into Batman on a nearby roof as they're both staking out the pawn shop. Batman has a super computer in his Wayne Basement (the Bat Cave!) so he didn't need to go to the library to figure out who the criminals were. I almost typed "who the bad guys are" but I thought that might be too confusing. People would read it and think, "Wait? Batman's going after the cops?" Criminals might also be a good descriptor for cops but since I've used it previously to describe the guys who robbed the store, it seemed less ambiguous.

Batman and The Huntress decide to work together. Mostly because Batman has a subconscious need to work with the daughter he never actually had. And also The Huntress has all of the evidence and Batman refuses to push her to the ground and take it. That would look bad no matter how many Gamergaters would cheer. No wait. The more Gamergaters who cheer something actually helps make the thing look worse. So it would look bad and then it would look even worse when some online loser with no ability for introspection applauds the deed.

From Helena's voice recorder, they learn where the pawn broker will be meeting up with the other members of the criminal organization later that night. Batman and Helena crash the meeting, easily subduing them all and tying them up tight for the Gotham Police. Except it doesn't quite go that way because before Batman and The Huntress can leave, the bad guys show up.

Yeah. No ambiguity this time. It's the cops. They're the bad guys.

Detective Comics #652 Rating: B-. Who came up with the trope that if somebody has diplomatic immunity, they basically have carte blanche to commit whatever crimes they want and nobody is legally allowed to stop them? "Oh shit! That diplomat just fucked every animal in the zoo and used the Santorum to make milkshakes for all the kids! We wanted to warn everybody but it would have been illegal for us to try!" If it was a trope because it allowed vigilante characters to stop criminals when the cops' hands were tied due to regulations, then this would be a perfect use of it! But instead, Batman and The Huntress are going to be arrested for helping stop more crime?! "Outrageous!" is a thing I would yell while slamming my fist down on the desktop if this wasn't a story about Gotham. Instead, I just nod while continuing to sniff my finger that I'd just recently stuck in my belly button and say, "Yeah, seems about right." (Meaning the cops and not the vintage of my filthy bodily odors.)

I almost said that I was sniffing my finger which I had just shoved up my ass but then thought, "No way! People might believe me!" And then, as I sniffed a shit finger, I was all, "I don't care if they believe I was just sniffing a belly-button finger. But to have people believe I was just casually sniffing a shit finger? Even I can't bear the indignity of that!"

Darkstars #7

The "A"s in the logo have genitals.

In the 90s, comic book readers accepted that professional artists were now drawing like every kid in the 2nd grade. Not exactly, of course! I wouldn't want to be taken literal by everybody on the Internet who doesn't understand exaggeration and hyperbole. Unless the do understand it but they understand wanting to sound smarter than everybody else on the Internet so much that they can't understand whimsy and mockery. So the figures are drawn better than I could have done in 2nd grade. But I know every single time I drew something in 2nd grade, I'd misjudge perspective and depth. So after drawing the first guy (who I decided was standing in mist because I didn't want to draw his feet in that foreshortened way that feet need to be drawn but which is difficult to pull off), I'd begin drawing the second character. But at some point, I'd realize I'd gotten their proportions wrong and so I'd wind up making them stand in a hole in the ground. Then the third guy would look like he was floating so I'd draw a mound of dirt for him to stand on (and not stand on in the way we would see a person standing on dirt but standing directly on top of the horizontal line that was the top of the mound of dirt). Then I'd think, "Should they be standing in a city or a forest or a battle scene full of corpses?" But that thought would only lead to the thought, "No, that's too much work," and then I'd just sketch some lines for clouds or air movement or something and call it done.

So, you know, just like this. Maybe I should have realized at the time that my 2nd grade style was the popular style because it is the only time I've ever had a work of art hung in a museum (the Triton Museum in Santa Clara)! Fuck, I missed my calling! I could have helped found Image Comics!

This issue begins with an alien wearing a fart collector on his head.

The only reason you haven't seen me on Shark Tank with my Fart Collector is because I know what a fucking scam it is. Sure, you have to pay back loans if your business fails while investor money is free. But if your business is successful, the loan is eventually paid off while the investors stick around sucking off your profits until the day you die.

How do you know if you're good at poetry? Poems are like farts. Most people leave the room in order to avoid yours but they can't get enough of their own.

The fart loving alien is some despot whose people have finally turned against him and hired an assassin to kill him. It's 1993 and Darkstars could sure use a bump in sales with a Lobo guest spot but I'm guessing it won't be Lobo because I'd fucking remember that. The poor despot. He's a terrible ruler who treats a certain segment of his population as not worthy of life and he longs for their love anyway. That's exactly the kind of leader who should be assassinated. I am now winking and nudging you with my elbow.

This is the exact face of every protagonist in every comic during Image's first year in business (except for the ones that were demons from Hell or had one mechanical eye).

Darkstar and Hawkman become best friends and promise to team up again in the future. Then he fucks off to go do whatever Hawkman did in Hawkworld. Fuck if I ever read that. Have I mentioned how much I don't like Hawkman? Or Green Arrow?! Or Hal Jordan? Or Superman? Maybe I should just list the DC heroes I like: Halo and Blue Devil.

The fart-sucking despot faces his assassin and of course it's not Lobo. Judging by the 90s Image look, his name is probably DeathDie or Crushblow or DeadBlast or PunchAbort.

Did all 90s artists design new villains using the same standard template?

The assassin's name is K'lassh. Yeah, two S's instead of two A's. It's an alien tongue. It probably means "He Who Sucks The Entrails Out of a Rabbit's Asshole and Fucks the Corpse."

Now it's time for more art because holy fuck is it terrible. But it's terrible in that exactly specific way that comic book readers were blind to in the 90s. In the 90s, this art was fucking radical, dude.

Part of me gets it. Part of me thinks, "Whoa! That art is fucking dynamic and bad ass!" But that's also the part of me that smells my finger after it breaks through the toilet paper while wiping my ass.

Flint quits his job as deputy Darkstar before Darkstar can even yell at him. Then he's all, "I'm just like you!" And Darkstar flies off thinking, "Yeah! He is just like me! I bet we'll be good friends in a few more issues!" The next issue is the last one I own so I hope I never see that asshole cop again. Sorry to be redundant.

The story of K'lassh killing alien Trump was told so that by the end of this story, when the drug runners bring K'lassh to Earth to battle Darkstar, we, the readers, will be shitting in our pants thinking, "Oh no! That guy is really powerful! Darkstar is in trouble now!" Or we laughed at loud at the stupid costume and name and stopped buying the comic book forever.

Darkstars #7 Rating: C. I think seven issues of any mediocre comic book is just too many to read without another series to break up the space monotony. And I've still got one more! But after this, I'll be done with this box of old comic books! I don't know how long I've been re-reading my old comic books but I think it's been a few years now. And I've just finished the first box. Granted it wasn't a long box or a short box; it was a big old fruit box. So there were a lot of comic books in it! I can't wait to see what comic books await me in the next box I open! But whatever series winds up being in that box, I think I need to alternate titles to keep myself interested. I'll figure it out when I get there.

In the meantime, how about buying my Role Playing Game, Places & Predators? I know Amazon sucks. If you're ideals mean more to you than buying my hilarious and fun game, you can always Venmo $3.00 to GrunionGuy and I'll send you a PDF.

Darkstars #6

Art directors were suffering from some weird brain parasite in the early 90s.

In the 90s, the way you could tell the difference between men and women in comic books was that men's faces were full of lines to express tension and rage and determination while women's faces were smooth blank canvasses to express their beauty and their lack of a nose. No wonder I hardly dated in the 90s. A woman would start flirting with me and I'd think, "Ugh! She's got too much nose!"

People think 90s comic art was all about lots of pouches and big guns. But it was just as equally about lines all over men's faces, gritting teeth, clenched fists, adult women who look no more than fifteen, and characters that had one weird eye because drawing symmetrical eyes is hard.

The issue begins with Darkstar and Homeless Mo flying off to help Flint stop the space sex slave traders. Homeless Mo can tell something's bothering Darkstar because he has even more lines on his face than normal. Homeless Mo says, "You look way more like a male character than usual. Is something bothering you?" And Darkstar is all, "Let me tell you the story of the day everything went wrong and I lost my innocence about the job and I became a cynical bastard who flaunts the rules because the rules can't save anybody!"

Darkstar's origin is that his planet was destroyed by a race raiding it for resources. He was one of the few survivors and was approached by a Darkstar to join the force. He did because what else was left for him? Also maybe he could help some other poor planet. When he finally got his chance to help out, he screwed up and everybody on the planet under his protection died. So now he's bitter and angry and guilt-ridden. But he's still got a job to do so he's going to stop pitying himself and do it. Plus he'll probably need to beat whomever he suspects of doing anything wrong and maybe kill them because playing by the rules just didn't cut it for the people on Jenuwyne.

Zack Morris could be jerking off into Steve Urkel's mouth while the Spice Girls girl powered each other's buttholes and it would be less 90s than this page of art. Not?

Hawkman and Hawkwoman stumbled upon the space sex slave traders when they tried to kidnap a friend of theirs. Apparently she and Carla White are the only two women worth missing on a massive rocket ship filled to the brim with kidnapped women. Also, did Hawkman lose Superman's number? He could have just called him to stop the ship and then...oh wait. Never mind. I forgot Superman is dead. Loser.

Oh man. I'm so sexist. I mean, oh woman. I'm so sexist. I assumed only women were being taken as space sex slaves but there are male humans in shackles aboard the ship too. That seems weird because why kidnap men when you could just tell them, "Hey, you want to have tons of sex with strange and exotic space women?" And then before they heard you mumble "and space men too," they'd have already been shouting, "Yee-haw! I'mma gonna get my dick space wet! Whoopee!" If that reaction doesn't ring true as a universal way of pre-celebrating the coming loss of your virginity, forget I even said it.

Somebody needs explain Earth slang to Colos and also the term "Phrasing!"

Hawkman slips into a hatch on the slaver ship before it closes. Weird to still be closing hatches in the middle of a space launch but since I don't work for NASA or Space X, I can't say if that's all that improbable. I'm sure it's totally fine. Darkstar and his sidekick follow close behind Hawkman but since the hatch is closed, they have to smash through it. That also doesn't interfere with the launch. I'm glad I know nothing about the incredible frictional forces and heat build up produced by launching a large metal ship out of Earth's atmosphere or I might now be stroking my chin and shaking my head while mumbling, "Oh, come on!"

Also it's a fucking comic book so who cares? As long as some people get masered and Hawkwoman shows more ass and cleavage, the audience is going to come back for more.

Hawkman is crying because another man saved his life. On Thanagar, that means you're now Hawkwoman.

That last caption may have sounded like a sexist joke but it was commentary about the hyper-masculinity of Hawkman. He probably also said, "No homo," after being saved and then punched holes in five different walls.

Meanwhile, Hawkwoman and Detective Jamón-Face continue fighting the space sex slavers on Earth.

Here's half of what the audience is clamoring for.

Even Hawkwoman must be tired of Hawkman's toxic masculinity or else why would she call him half-cocked? What an insult!

Darkstar Flint and Hawkwoman stop Pappas and his alien crew. Flint takes off to leave the clean-up to Hawkwoman and the cops. But before he leaves, he shoots his maser at people so the audience can get the other half of what they want out of this book. Is "Darkstars" an anagram of "tits and masers"? Close though, right?

This was the most practiced pose in 90s super hero comics.

What were we fucking smoking in the 90s?! I only say "we" metaphorically; I fucking hated this style of art even back then. There's a reason I don't own Wild C.A.T.S. #1 or any of the other debut Image books. I didn't even pick them up for investment purposes! Don't think I didn't buy my share of crap though! I kept buying The New Titans well past issue #100; it's just that I didn't buy crap simply because everybody was raving about the new kinetic art style by a bunch of young up and coming artists who probably had high school year book quotes like "Why would I study anatomy?" and "Thigh legs are as thick as torsos, right?"

I just discovered, six issues in, that Homeless Mo's name is Douglas. How did I get it so wrong?! That's the most rhetorical of rhetorical questions. I could go back through the issues to see why I thought his name was Mo but that feels like work. Also, I probably just forgot his name and made up Homeless Mo subsequently fooling myself into believing that was his real name.

What the fuck?! Darkstar just called him Douglas in the previous panel!

Well, I guess that solves the mystery. His name must be Mo Douglas and he's homeless. Grandmaster comic book reader?

As Darkstar and Mo and Hawkman break into the slave pen, Carla White rallies the other prisoners to pick up the fallen guards weapons and fight back. They respond by throwing their fists in the air and yelling, "Yeah! We can fight too!" But things don't work out too well for them because they aren't established characters.

If I ever wind up in a battle for my life and I'm killed, please do not chastise me for giving up.

With the help of Carla White, Darkstar, Mo, and Hawkman take control of the slave ship and turn it back towards Earth. Darkstar stares at Carla and begins calculating how much gold he brought with him to see if his budget can afford another deputy. Although judging by the next issue's cover, Carla will just be taking over Detective Flint's job.

Darkstars #6 Rating: B. Was this the type of guest appearances that go us comic book readers so fucking excited back in the day?! Hawkman and Hawkwoman could have been any character at all based on the level of interaction they had with the other characters. I guess all we comic book fans need to be happy is somebody in our favorite character's costume and we'll dish out the cover price of books we'd otherwise not read. On one hand, I think it's poor form for DC to use Hawkman and Hawkwoman so shallowly just to get fans to buy this book. But on the other hand, I hate Hawkman so fuck his fans.

Darkstars #5

What happens when two guys clash, each thinking they're the ultimate authority for good and each believes violence is the best solution to a problem? We'll find out this issue!

I didn't know hawks were angry assholes but I'm assuming Hawkman is the personification of a hawk's personality so it must be true. I also didn't know spiders were mild-mannered. Or guys were misogynist, short-tempered jerk-offs (you know, like Guy Gardner). I've learned a lot from comic books!

I just looked over the cover again and I think it might be on my Top Ten Sexiest Comic Book Covers of All Time. Mostly it's due to the way Detective Crumbstache and Hawkman look like they're furiously trying to jerk each other off and the way Hawkwoman double grips that crossbow the way she'd not have to double grip my cock.

How come I never read Modesty Blaise? It was about two whole things, one of which I really enjoy!

The cover of this issue just got even sexier if you consider the inside advert as part of the cover which I do because look at the way Modesty is sucking off that gun. I bet I was planning on buying Modesty Blaise but then I jerked off over this advert, fell immediately asleep on top of the comic, and woke up later having forgotten all about it. It's the exact same reason I never read Warlord.

Now I want to make this advert into a sign to protest the police. It should really confuse them!

This issue is called "Slaves and Other Prisoners." If one of the "R"s in "prisoners" was a "B", it would be an anagram for pissboner. A better writer probably would have written about the problematic casual use of the word slaves in the American vernacular. "Vernacular" is an anagram for "anal curver."

A couple of aliens have arrived in Earth's orbit to pick up Evil Star and his Starlings and transport them to Galactic Prison. They treat Evil Star like shit and Darkstar is all, "Whoa, my dudes! Chill out, man! Don't make me have to raise my voice! We're all cool here. No need for negative vibes!" Man, I really misjudged Darkstar Colos when I began reading this comic book. He's actually a decent cop. But then again, his story is the exact story of any cop that tries to be decent in a corrupt system that fetishizes violence, power, and respect. He's been shoved off to a backwater planet that's so far out of the Controller's sphere of influence that they've already questioned the leader of the Darkstars as to the need for space cops so far afield. Colos was trouble and he was acting better than the other cops so he got sent off to where he can't cause any problems. Weird to think that the phrase "can't cause any problems" in police lingo actually means "improves the system and works toward justice and accountability."

Detective Chicago-head gets put on the Carla White kidnapping case. The cops don't actually know she's been kidnapped but they suspect Pappas, the Loco kingpin, took her against her will. But Detective Two-Sausages-One-Bun pretends he's been on a drinking jag and isn't in his right mind to lead a raid on Pappas's warehouse. That's because he wants to raid the place himself in his Darkstars Sidekick outfit. Once again, he's proving that he's a terrible cop (aka a status quo, regular, run-of-the-mill police).

Detective Two-Sizes-Too-Big-Head had better hurry with the rescue mission because Carla White is currently being sold into the space sex slave trade. I was going to make a joke earlier about her being sold into the alien sex slave trade but then I thought better of it, realizing that just putting "space" in front of "sex slave trade" didn't rise to an appropriate level of satire that would justify making light of sex slavery. I did add the word "space" to sex slave trade at the beginning of this paragraph but it wasn't for a joke; it was just stating the facts of this comic book. Look, we all read the title! We all knew where this story was headed but I wasn't brave enough to broach the subject earlier. I just said that stupid thing about an nearly correct anagram and moved on.

Oh, by the way, when Carla White hears she's going to be sold into sex slavery, she's all, "I'm not going to be the property of some Middle East sheikh!" Seems a little racist to me. I bet she felt dumb (and racist) when she found out she was being sold to aliens and not Arabs.

Is this why conservatives don't have any morals or ethics? Because they think if they acted on those things, they'd get sold into the space sex slave trade?

Since I've added "space" to the phrase "sex slave trade," I can probably call it hyperbole and satire when I write something like, "Boy! I sure wish all conservatives would get sold into the space sex slave trade!"

Actually, yes, Detective Mustached-Rumproast, that's exactly what you were supposed to do.

It's not the cop's job to become judge and jury because they don't trust the judge and jury will do their job. If that's why cops kill people then I think it means citizens are allowed to kill cops if we don't believe they'll do their job? Am I using logic correctly? I'm just a stupid libturd so I wouldn't know logic if it constantly @ed me on Twitter demanding that I debate it.

Flint (that's the name of Detective Sausage-fingers. I learned his name because I've run out of different types of meat to compare his fat head to) breaks into Pappas's space sex slave trade warehouse where the ship is nearly fully loaded with slaves for space sex. But instead of battling the space sex slave traders and saving the day, he starts a fight with Hawkman and Hawkwoman. Where rock has this guy's pink, salty ham-head been stuck under his entire life? He doesn't recognize the good heroes of the DC Universe?!

I wonder if Stan Lee had ever considered a law suit against every comic book that had two different heroes mistakenly battle each other before they realized their error and teamed up? It's so recognizably a Marvel idea that I would have awarded Stan Lee all the money. Unless the idea is actually from The Bible? I mean Cain and Abel almost pulled that trick except Abel just wound up being too much of a loser to survive to the team up part.

During the confusion of the violent good guys fighting the other violent good guys, the rocket with the space sex slaves takes off. Hopefully Hawkman and Detective Flint will learn a lesson from this incident. Maybe suss out the situation before beating everybody you see to a bloody pulp.

Darkstars #5 Rating: B. The Hawklovers were only in this issue for a couple of pages which is fine by me but probably not ideal for all the Hawklover fans who purchased this book because they were on the cover. I'm sure the next issue will feature more Hawklover action. I'm also sort of hoping that Carla White has now been launched into space and won't be rescued. She'll just turn up in a spin-off series called Space Sex Slave Traders. Obviously that never happened but now that I put the idea out there, maybe it did happen in another, better, sexier timeline.