Star Spangled War Stories #1

Looks like DC still had some War Comic Trademarks they needed to prove they were still using before they lost them.

DC Comics attempted two other war comics before this, Men of War and GI Combat. They were both terrible. And awful. And really fucking lousy. But then what do you expect when the guys running the show, the ones shaping the identity of the titles each month, the editors that help guide the creative team along by the hand on the choke collar around the team's neck...what do you expect when those guys don't even know the difference between Antarctica and the Arctic?! Of course they're going to choose a direction for a war comic that's going to be the shittiest possible direction they can take it! They don't know north from south! That's a metaphor for not knowing shit from gold!

In Men of War, DC Comics thought the readers would by dying to know what became of Frank Rock's grandson! Turns out, he couldn't fucking make it in high school so he dropped out and joined the army. This happened right around the first Iraq War and he suddenly found himself in Hell. He married the woman he was dating at the time because he was fucking scared to lose himself and his connection to his old way of life. It didn't matter that they barely got along! His dick had been in her vagina and now his dick was going to be in the shit and it didn't know what the fuck to do! So he married her and then moved her away from everything and everybody she knew to live eight states away while he was flown across the sea to sit around in a desert for months. His time in that war was uneventful and upon returning to the states and doing the last of his time, he gracefully bowed out of his military career and his marriage and moved on.

Eventually Frank Rock the Third married again. He had a family and moved around and became steadily more lost and depressed. He thought it would be easy to find a job as an ex-military man that had experience and training that the government of the United States spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on. But nobody wanted to hire him. He bounced from shitty job to shitty job. His marriage was on the rocks because she looked at him and all she saw were the multiple times he cheated on her because he was scared and helpless and grasping at any living thing that showed any sign of comfort. He looked at her and just saw an angry woman who was constantly looking for ways to get small bits of herself back by taking them out of him. And who could blame her? He was just dragging her behind as he spiraled out of control.

And then Frank Rock the Third was saved. He sat there, barely comprehending what he was seeing, watching the news reports as the World Trade Centers burned. America was under attack. This he could understand! This is something he could do something about! This was his ticket back into the military without looking like he'd failed on the outside! He could be a hero! He could be a man of action and honor and bravery! He would join up again to save his fucking country and probably his marriage too!

And once Frank Rock the Third was overseas having adventures, they really weren't fucking exciting enough to be showcased in a comic book. Boring! I'd rather have seen his life I made up leading up to his time in Men at War!

G.I. Combat at least had dinosaurs, so that was something (even if the story surrounding the dinosaurs put everyone to sleep)! Plus it had the Haunted Tank battling the Nazi Warwheel! But even that wasn't enough to put asses in the seats, or whatever the saying is to get people to read comic books. Putting the sea monkeys in the mail? I don't know! I think I was trying to make a point somewhere!

So now, the DC Editors with their big computer banks worth of brain power finally hit on a popular idea for a war story: ZOMBIES! People love zombies right? Zombies are a hip, new, cool trend that in no way has overstayed its welcome by nearly twenty five years, right?! The kids will go nucking futs over this thing! G.I. Zombie! The only thing that might sell better would be G.I. Stripper! But then DC would have to hear all that bullshit on Tumblr about how sexist it is and who has time for that shit?! Not DC Comics, that's who not! So let's see if this G.I. Zombie is the comical war hero to save the War Comic Book Industry!

The story begins with no zombie in site! No war either! Just a biker bar in Nowhere, Mississippi (isn't that everywhere in Mississippi? OH! Mississippi burning! Double OH! Insert stereotypical joke about the poor education of a southern state! Triple OH!) and a biker named Duke and an ex-con named Tiff and a whole lot of sexual tension. That zombie won't be able to resist eating the brains of these people. If he can find them! That's a joke that plays off the earlier joke about the quality of a Mississippi education.

This looks like a job for GI Zombie!

I hope GI Zombie turns out to be Achilles' undying corpse as he travels from war to war across civilization's sweeping span! I don't know why he'd wind up in Nowhere, Mississippi at a biker bar though. I think GI Zombie will probably be somebody else.

Tiff chops off the federal agent's hands and then puts a bullet in his head when he won't speak. That must mean he's GI Zombie and she's working with him! This is the oldest trick in the book! It's Biker Gang Infiltration 101! The only reason nobody uses it much is because nobody ever has a zombie around to take the bullet to the head.

Oh wait! Don't bullets to heads kill zombies?! I think Tiff might have fucked up the plan!

Tiff has the bikers throw the dead fed (and his hands!) into the trunk of her car so she can dispose of it in a nearby lake. Instead, she takes it to a motel. Ew! She's a sicko perv!

Actually, the fed is GI Zombie! And bullets to the brain apparently don't kill him. He's a radical new version of zombies that, if they ever get out, the world is fucked! Just like our government to be experimenting with deadly threats that can destroy the entire world. Luckily this guy is on the side of America! I bet other countries have their own zombies and eventually GI Zombie will have to duel one of them. He'll be all, "So we meet again, SS Scheisskopf!" And SS Scheisskopf will be all, "Ihre Gehirne! Ihre Gehirne!"

Listen to how mindlessly he recites that soldier's creed! Total zombie, alright! Hey wait! I think I might be offended by the zombie/soldier subtext here! Mostly offended because I didn't come up with it. Ingenious! I mean, offensive!

Also note the "been around forever" bit! GI Zombie could be Achilles! I hope he is so that I can apologize to everybody for being too good at comic book reading! Somebody clean up my onstage masturbation cage! I've got a self-aggrandizing apology to write!

GI Zombie's name is Jared. That's probably how a worker at Ellis Island would have Americanized Achilles, right?! Damn! My theory is already beginning to fall apart. If I keep insisting I'm correct, it's going to look worse than my constant belief that Harvest was actually vampire Tim Drake from the future! Which I still believe, by the way!

While Tiff sleeps, GI Zombie sneaks out to get some midnight brains. He finds an asshole and murders him in front of his family. But it's okay! The guy was an abusive jerk! It's okay to eat abusive jerks in front of small children! It teaches them a lesson or something.

The next morning, Tiff crashes into a baby deer on the way to recon the place she was going to meet Duke later that night. GI Zombie can't resist eating a nice young nearly dead fawn, so he takes her into the woods to have his way with her. The car is totaled, so Tiff and GI have to walk the rest of the way. When they lay eyes on the biker's camp, they see the biker's have more than just stolen military rifles; they've got Patriot Missiles as well. GI Zombie might be good at ripping off arms and tearing out throats, but can he dodge missiles? I guess we'll find out next month!

Star Spangled War Stories #1 Rating: This is the best war comic put out by DC so far! Sure, the other two books ate dirty asshole, so it didn't have to be spectacularly star spangled to be the best of the lot. It also didn't have a war in it unless you count the war on filthy bikers. Is that a war? I think that's a war! It also might have been just as boring as the previous attempts except for the zombie going around eating civilians and baby deer! Although that doesn't make him an exceptional zombie; it just makes him an average government employee. Before I knew GI Zombie's name was Jared, I guessed he'd be Achilles. But now that I know his name, I'm changing up my guess! I think he's the son of Mahalaleel, father of Enoch! He might have become a zombie due to some kind of hanky-panky with a hot piece of Nephilim. At the very least, I can see why Jared is a career military zombie since he still needs to eat flesh to live. What better place to gather your sustenance than a battlefield!

Batman Eternal #16

Batman has never looked gayer. Not that there's anything non-Biblically wrong with that!

I was trying to keep up my feud with Comicsverse but now Firefox doesn't even want to visit the site because "comicsverse.com uses an invalid security certificate." It looks like they've boobytrapped their evil lair! I'm not going to spy on them if it means I'm risking some kind of internet chlamydia! How am I supposed to listen to their mediocre comic book video reviews now?! You win this time, Comicsverse! Also, you should probably fix your fucking site, you dunderheads.

At the end of last week's episode, Jim Corrigan had been confronted by Mister Bygone in the maze of concrete halls beneath Arkham Asylum. Surprisingly, this week's episode picks up exactly where last week's left off!

Oh not this crap again! Hospital schmospital! Nobody cares about the recidivism rate of inmates at Arkham anymore! It's really just a rubbish bin for nogoodniks now!

Arkham Asylum has lately been troubled by scary spirits and bad mojo. They might need a Wiccan Exorcist Native American Shaman Leprechaun to bless this mess and sort it the fuck out. Even crazy people don't want to have to look at this Mister Bygone and his infected arterial system, especially just after lunch.

What do you suppose they serve for lunch at Arkham? Tater tots and fish sticks? Is that too conventional? I should probably think outside the box! I bet Arkham serves the death of dreams and the rape of hope! But only on Wednesdays. On Thursdays it's Sloppy Joe.

Upstairs in Arkham, away from the piles of left arms and the smell of one particular rotting face, Professor Pyg is being checked into his cell.

Whoops. Today's lunch must be pork chops and apple sauce.

Remember in elementary school, you'd get green sheets (or some color xeroxed thing) that were like little newspapers with not really important facts about things happening on campus? And they always published the school lunch menu for the upcoming week? Boy, that was depressing! Having to see before hand the awful bullshit they were going to try to force down your gullet each and every day. Some kids liked to read the menu so they could prepare themselves for the gastronomical tortures about to be inflicted upon them day after day. But not me! They weren't going to kill my spirit that easily! I allowed myself to dream of delicious foods that would be plated in front of me for twenty three hours of every day! Only during lunch hour would I let them win! They couldn't have the rest of me as easily as printing a daily menu forecasting horrendous evil!

Who am I kidding? I never ate school lunches! I always brought my own in my awesome cool Battlestar Galactica lunchbox! Which I still have!

I don't actually remember the Cylons being this happy? Did they often go on picnics with whatshisname and his cyber dog?

Before I owned this lunchbox, I used a Rescuers lunchbox. And before that, it was a Wonderful World of Disney lunchbox. After the Battlestar Galactica lunchbox, it was brown paper bags until high school when I gave up eating lunch in preference of sitting around staring at girls I had huge crushes on. Actually, beginning in tenth grade, my school lunch was usually one Mr. Goodbar and one game of Gunsmoke down at the bowling alley near the school. Nutritious!

Over in Tokyo, some bad shit goes down! But the good part about the bad shit is that it makes me love Harper Row a little bit!

It's like my heart just grew two sizes this day!

I was almost really crude and said my penis grew two sizes this day. But I didn't mean I loved Harper in that way! I meant I loved her for her sassy mouth! I felt the same kind of pride you feel when the sibling that you constantly argue with suddenly mouths off to some grown up being an asshole to them. It's like you helped train your sibling for that day with all the bickering and smarting off at each other!

Red Robin and Harper take care of the Tokyo Tentacles before they can find their way into some protesting orifices. I have to say, when I was in Tokyo, there were far less rapist tentacles than I thought there would be. There was, however, a hell of a lot more Pachinko than I'd ever dreamed! Anyway, Harper and Red Robin have survived the test and now they get to meet the man and the cybernetic monkey behind it all!

This monkey has only been in about six total panels in The New 52 so far but he's quickly demanding his own monthly comic book! At least in my eyes.

So back in Arkham, Jim Corrigan punches Mister Bygone and knocks him out which is a bit anti-climactic if Mister Bygone was the Byguy behind it all! I suppose he isn't because later Batwing escapes the clutches of The Joker's Daughter as she tells him she rules the place. I don't really believe her though. At the very least, she seems to be the High Priestess of the Cult of the Left Arm. She's also the keeper of the Maxie Zeus.

I particularly like her goat.se-esque decorating motif.

I'm assuming by the get-up and the name that this is Maxie Zeus even if it's a bit of a reinterpretation of him. At least from when I last read a story with him in it. He may have already been reinterpreted sometime in the last decade before The New 52.

Batwing defeats Maxie Zeus which is what he wasn't supposed to do because now Maxie is prepared to be vesselized by the Messiah! I don't know what that means. I don't know what any of this means! The Arkham Staff have all had their left arms cut off or have had their bodies turned into wraith housing. A doctor that Batwing stumbles upon says it's been this way for months now. Who is overseeing Arkham Asylum?! Shouldn't Batman check in every other day to make sure things are running smoothly? I think after Batwing and The Spectre finish their investigation, Arkham needs to be shut down for good. Board the place up and throw away the hammer! Burn it down! Cover it in an impenetrable plexiglass dome and fill it with concrete! It's a curse on Gotham!

Or better yet! Somebody should go back in time and kill Amadeus Arkham before he gets the stupid idea to "help" crazy assholes! Except maybe that's what happened! Maybe the time traveler tasked with the assassination arrived back in time confused, disoriented, and a little bit insane. That's why he winds up killing Amadeus's mother which gives Amadeus the idea to start the Asylum with the time traveler as his first patient! Don't you dare fucking steal my story idea, DC Comics and Grant Morrison!

Batwing runs into Jim Corrigan again and he almost reveals who is behind it all. Except he's interrupted by the person that's behind it all: the freshly returned from Hell soul of Deacon Blackfire! Oh. Hey! All this time I've been wondering who has been behind this crazy shit at Arkham and Snyder and Tynion had already told me in like Issue #1. I should probably pay better attention to what I'm reading instead of letting my mind wander as I think about Batman going down on Commissioner Gordon, or imagining what Warden Agatha Zorbatos does in her office with the door locked and her pants around her ankles.

I actually don't know anything about this Deacon Blackfire. Is he new? Was he created during The Long Hiatus when I wasn't reading comic books? Or was he invented by Alan Grant during his Shadow of the Bat run? I think those are the only possibilities.

Batman Eternal #16 Rating: +1 Ranking. I should really make these end statements worth reading so I can post them as stand alone mini-reviews for people with short attention spans and the inability to enjoy anything worth taking the time to enjoy. Maybe pepper them with curse words to really draw the attention of the filthy, ignorant masses. Then I can finish up with a truly insightful comment about the story which will prove to everybody that I deserve the title of Master Comic Book Reader! I should do all of that stuff but I probably won't because it's more work than just closing my review with some stupid statement about how odd it is that the candy Sixlets only has five colors.

Futures End #12

Of course when you send a group of heroes to fight a high technological threat in deep space, you want to arm them with melee weapons.

Current status: Hungry.
Supplemental Status: Not hungry enough to overcome laziness.

People are constantly wondering when the future will arrive and we'll have teleporters and food replicators and hover cars and jet packs. I just want a mind-controlled food replicator that teleports the food into my stomach. We're in the year 2014 and we're not better off than the hunter/gatherers of yore! I probably have more to say about this but now I can't get the superhero name, Yore Mom, out of my head. Maybe she can team up with Madame Edamame!

Oh! I just realized how we are better off than those stupid ancestors of ours although I never utilize this civilized option: food delivery! Why am I not taking advantage of this astounding invention? Is it possible I'm not hungry enough nor am I lazy enough to overcome how ultimately cheap I am?! Yeah, I think that's it.

I probably shouldn't call my ancestors "stupid." They were smart enough to survive long enough to fuck so that eventually I would be here, miserable and hungry and awash in multiple existentialist crises! The jerks!

Has the future arrived yet? I'm still hungry! I guess I have to read a comic book on an empty stomach. Nobody has ever had it so rough.

Currently in Futures End, Frankenstein, Hawkman, and Amethyst have discovered a planet full of robots with that secret Futures End symbol on their faces! This must be the planet of the Evil Mr Smarty Pants (that's the non-gender specific form of "mister." You know the one. The one I just declared exists). The robots are not very happy to meet them nor are they very good at the science.

Why differentiate "necrotic" from "carbon-based"? And isn't Hawkman technically an Nth Metal based life form?

The robots seem to be a combination of Geiger's alien and Lucas's battle droids. They also have all the effectiveness of Stormtroopers because they can't even beat three people armed with medieval weapons. The Engineer appears on the scene although she's switched sides. She spouts some nonsense in binary and subdues the heroes all by herself.

Anybody have any ideas what the Evil Mr Smarty Pants three circles connected by two lines symbol might stand for? It just looks like a water molecule to me. Except all the atoms are the same size, so that can't be it. It could represent ozone except I think ozone's three oxygen molecules bind in three ways, so forget I even brought it up. It could just be a really easy maze! Maybe it's a representation of a reproductive system? It could also be the symbol for the way DC can only think up Borg-like threats to the universe where the bad guy constantly assimilates everybody else to become like-minded circles!

Back on earth, a bunch of stuff is happening between Voodoo and Faraday and some person named Mercy that's actually named Courtney so might be Stargirl five years down the line and post punked to the hilt. It's all written in a way that doesn't let the reader know anything that's actually going on but supposed to make the reader think, "I'm so excited to find out what's going on!" Of course, I'm just thinking, "Tell me what the fuck is going on, you stupid fucking comic book assholes! Stop stringing me along not telling me what the story I'm reading is all about before I stop reading your stupid fucking story and burn down the local church!"

My anger can get out of control sometimes. Especially when I'm hungry! According to Snickers commercials (unless it's a different candy bar), I must look like the television well girl from Ringu right now!

"Love that song"? I can get that it's perfect on hold music, but love? I wonder if Voodoo ever stripped to it?

After a short scene in which Rampage finds out that the man she broke out of prison (Ethan) never meant to cure her, the comic book jumps thirty-five years into the future for a short visit with The Joker in Akrham. Brother Eye has a plan for him. Of course, it's a plan that the reader can only speculate about, seeing as how the issue ends before it is revealed.

Being that Infinite Crisis had a half-Batman, half-Joker picture, I suppose they're going to be surgically conjoined.

Futures End #12 Rating: No change. If you're not reading this series, don't worry about picking it up yet. I think it's still on the prologue!

Harley Quinn Invades Comic-con International San Diego #1

I don't even know why I'm doing commentary on this issue.

I figured I'd discuss some of the times I've been to the San Diego Comic-con and maybe scan in a few pictures. That's when I began to realize that my memory is truly, truly awful. I remember going in 2000. I also remember going in 1998. But as I was digging through my shitty memory-abilia box, I discovered a pass to the 1996 Comic-con as well. At that point, I realize that I've conflated the 1996 and 1998 trips but upon realizing they were separate trips, I could remember what was different about each trip. But then I found this pass as well:

I am not Larry Stern and I have never worked for Rising Sun Creations.

My friend and cohort, Upright, was going to school at UCSD and he knew somebody (probably Dan Santat who was his housemate in 96 or 97 or something) who knew somebody who was able to get us these exhibitor passes for Comic-con that year. So even though I have been telling people for years that I went to two Comic-cons, apparently I've been to four: 1996, 1997, 1998, and 2000.

Here are my badges for '96 and '98. I can't find my badge for 2000. It had dinosaurs on it or something. The Chris Ware badge is awesomes.

Anyway, Harley Quinn seems to be going to Comic-con 2014 which is where some of you might actually be right now. Fuck. It's been 14 years since I've been to one? Which means it's been 14 years since I walked out of a panel about the film version of Elfquest. Marv Wolfman is a liar! He assured me it would be out in a few years! The main reason I walked out of the panel though was because there were better things to do at Comic-Con than watching raving Elfquest fans blow the Pinis.

Yay! Ambush Bug the Movie! Boo! Nicolas Cage as Ambush Bug!

Harley has traveled to the Comic-con with her freak show housemates. They're exhibiting something or other. Fifteen years ago, I'd say there were selling toys, games, or comics. But now? They could be selling anything! Comic-con deals with a bit more than comics these days.

Harley, at least, has come to have a fangasm and also to show her comic book art to jerko writers like Gail Simone who will be all, "Oh it's shite, you daft twat!" Oh wait. I think I mixed up Gail Simone with Grant Morrison. Or maybe she'll show her art to Rob Liefeld and he'll be all, "How do you draw so well? Can I trace it?" And then she'll take it over to the DC Booth where the editors will be feverishly Googling "Antarctica" to figure out where the fuck it is. Then she'll go over to Marvel and they'll be, "First sign this contract giving up your movie rights to any character we look at and decide to own." Some of those things might be factually incorrect.

Harley's comic book is called Hurl Girl. I wonder if she ever crosses over with Spewed Dude?

I actually felt bad about taking this picture and not buying anything but what was I supposed to do? I was a broke brokerson! I barely had enough to pay for my garbage bag full of Sailor Scout pornography!

Since it's only Tuesday, Harley has to wander around San Diego eating fish tacos. Although she doesn't eat fish tacos at all. Who goes to San Diego and skips the fish tacos? I mean besides me!

Wednesday is preview night, whatever that means. I don't think they had a preview night back when I was at Comic-con. I don't even think they had a Wednesday night anything back then! I think Wednesday night was for eating the fish tacos.

While looking for the place to pick up her badge, she meets a viking that would like to take her picture. She tells him she would not like her picture taken. That's the way to do it! It's okay to take candid shots of people in costume, sure. But it can also be a bit creepy, depending on how you go about it. So even fourteen years ago, I knew it was best to ask if I could get a picture of somebody instead of just being sneaky. To be fair, I had a real fucking camera back then and not a phone.

Here are some pictures of people I took back in 2000.

I thought this guy in the white shirt was really interesting but fucking Catwoman photobombed my picture.


This is a little known independent hero named Webby Guy or something.


I don't know who this is but I should have found out where she was partying later because she seemed like a lot of fun. Plus, how do you keep a skirt that short in place? Velcro?


I'm not sure if Sailor Saturn was in character or about to kill me.


And finally, here are Seven of Nine and Mr. Spock.

Once Harley gets inside, she makes her way to the DC Comics booth because I think that's the only comic book company booth at the DC Universe Comic-con! It would be weird if she tried to get a job with Marvel, right? I don't think DC has any qualms about showing Marvel editors speaking with Harley. I just think Amanda Connor and Jimmy Palmiotti wouldn't know how to portray normal human beings.

Harley gets kicked out for pantsing Batman which never happened any of the many times I pantsed myself while at the Con. Afterward, Cheetah tells her that The Joker will be waiting for her at a 7 o'clock panel. So she breaks back in and winds up banging a room full of people in Joker costumes.

Or maybe she just made eye contact with them.

Later she has an adventure with a bunch of other Harley Quinns. Then she goes back to the Con. Then she gets kicked out again. Then she goes back. Then she gets kicked out. Then she does more crazy stuff. It's just like being at the real Comic-con! Except with less drugs and goat masturbators!

Notice how DiDio specifically says "south pole" since he, like everyone else at DC Comics, has no idea if the Arctic or the Antarctic is in the southern hemisphere.

Comic book Dan DiDio continues with the smartest decision he's ever made, probably because he's being written by actual writers instead of being allowed to vomit forth his own stupid beliefs and scumbag opinions!

I'd buy that line in a heartbeat! No, faster!

I think Harley Quinn takes a potshot at Marvel after she's hauled away from Dan DiDio but it's hard to tell. Is Marvel not looking for anything New or Original? I'd have to say Marvel and DC both aren't really looking for New and Original. What they're really looking for (and it seems Marvel might be doing this more than DC right now) are just good writers and artists to continue to write the same old fucking characters. Now Image is currently doing some new and original shit all over the place. Which is weird because I remember when Image first formed with the motto: "Let's do what Dave Sim is doing but sell a shit-ton more comics than he'll ever sell with far worse art and stories!" You have to hand it to them, they stuck to that motto and it worked!

Finally on Saturday, Harley wins a portfolio review with Jim Lee! He'll probably look at it and tell her everybody needs more squiggly lines on their faces.

For some reason, he likes Harley's art and then it's Sunday! And Harley meets her heroes, a couple of nobody hacks named Bruce Dini and Paul Timm or something. Who cares! What have they ever done that's ever been important to anybody?! Probably nothing, that's what!

Th-th-th-that's all folks!

New Guardians #33

Carol and Kyle have invaded the Psions' home, so technically this cover should read, "Defense of the Psions!"

When we last saw Carol and Kyle and Quarros and Pokey, they had been trapped aboard the mother ship of the alien race known as the Psions. And all you need to know about the Psions is that they're gigantic assholes that love to experiment on other races because they grew up being experimented on and that's all they know. Are the Psions a cautionary tale about how human life will end due to what rats will become in the future? An angry, sentient, species that became stronger than every other species on Earth due to humans constantly testing cures and procedures on them until they were immune to all disease, able to regenerate body parts, stronger than every other creature on Earth, and could breathe toxic gases? Because that's where we're headed, people! Look at how strong the Guinea Pigs got before we stopped using them for experimentation! If they weren't so fucking skittish, they'd probably have taken over the world by now.

This happens this issue. You know, if anybody was interested.

While Kyle and Carol dry hump each other in their skin-tight outfits, the Bohemian Guardians are being tortured by the Psions. I'd use the phrase "comeuppance" here but I don't know what it means or if I even spelled it correctly.

The Bohemain Guardians are learning slowly, tortuously slowly (because they're being tortured! Like Guinea Pigs! Or like Jews and Heretics and, well, practically everybody in 13th Century Europe!), that the Psions were created by them. They were the lab rats of the Bohemain Guardians and when they were abandoned by them, they just continued on the only path they knew: to make themselves better, hardier, more resistant to everything! And now billions of years later, they're pretty fucking hardy!

That's rich! Did you listen when the little baby ancestor Psions said, "Eeek! Squeak! Eeek! Eeek!" (which translates, roughly, to "Do not touch me!").

I woke up thinking about some particularly bold advice that could possibly truly help young people navigate the artificial structure of our society but then I remembered that I'm tired of being told to check my privilege, so fuck you all. Figure it out yourselves. Continue to wallow in your pain because you've decided that the memory of trauma is the exact same thing as the trauma itself. Go ahead and believe that a multitude of labels are the things that make you an individual as opposed to the real things that make you an individual, like the way you dream of becoming that one thing that nobody else you know dreams of becoming simply because when you think about becoming it, it makes your insides squish over and meltdown in a warm cascade until you feel like your bottom might catch on fire. Try not to remember that you're the person that loves the smell of rain dampened pavement mixed with melted marshmallows in fresh cocoa. Don't think about how you hide pieces of your secret self because you'd be embarrassed for people to know that you love the pungent odors of your body after several days unshowered, and you never want the eczema on your scalp to go away because your body and mind thrills to the way the tiny flakes feel as you slowly pull them from your skin and through your hair. Go ahead and always judge anything anybody says by the way they look and the gender they express and the parts of the body that bring them to a sexual frenzy. Absolutely believe that the things I just said were derogatory and dismissive instead of helpful and freeing. Disbelieve in other individuals because you are the only unique person in the world. And always never remember to tell people to think for themselves because telling people to be themselves is the best advice a person can get from another person.

If you watch a lot of television (and I'm sure you don't because you're not a dimwitted dumb dumb head caught in the patriarchy's mind-numbing light show), you'd be hard pressed to believe that anybody pursues any career at all anymore. It's less important to do things than to inspire people to be inspired and to raise awareness so that people are aware. I'm surprised at how many people hate television and commercials and yet they aspire to a life of being nothing but a fucking commercial themselves.

I probably should have buried these thoughts further into the review so I don't start this commentary all up in the reader's face! And what a beautiful face, might I add! Does that compliment go any way to making up for sounding like a self-righteous dick at the beginning? Anyway, I think it is a good idea to bury this in the middle of the review so now that you're reading this sentence, you'll realize that the preceding paragraphs that came out of nowhere initially began this review of New Guardians! But now they're just interrupting the review. Like a commercial!

Meanwhile, Carol reminds Kyle that after they save the Bohemian Guardians, they're going to have to talk about the dry humping that happened earlier. How come two people can't spontaneously dry hump each other in a scary experimental spacecraft without having to discuss it afterward?! Why must everything be discussed? Why can't we just lose ourselves in pure emotion and then move on to the next purely emotional experience?

I suppose if I were to take my own advice, I'd stop doing long-winded commentaries and just post things like this:

New Guardians #33 Review
Wheeee! SO HAPPY! Squidge! Twiddly diddly doopsie day!

Fuck. Maybe I should take my own advice! That would be so easy!

Kyle and Carol soon realize the ship they're on is a huge laboratory filled with cages housing the results of the Psions alien eugenics experiments. Kyle nearly throws up which, while it might be a natural reaction to seeing a living pile of heads that have been sewn together and are all screaming in pain at the same time, did he ever think how the pile of heads might feel from seeing a person react that way to them? I'm sure they already feel pretty crappy about what's become of them. Do they have to be reminded that their physical appearance is now so hideous that it causes uncontrollable vomiting in the people they meet? So rude, Kyle.

Off in another part of the ship, Pokey (or whichever Bohemian has the googles. Fuck if I can keep them straight) gets an advanced course in "How the Guardians Fucked Up, Part One: The Psions." He learns the Oans took some caterpillars, injected them with a stupid drug that probably made them use 100% of their brainpower because that continues to be a stupid fucking sci-fi myth that I'd thought we'd all gotten past until that ridiculous Lucy movie started airing ads on television, and turned them into sentient monsters! And now they will do the same for the rest of the universe! Bwa ha ha ha! It seems that revelation would have more impact if I hadn't been mentioning it over and over again since I first read "Psions" on the cover of the last issue of this comic book.

And then Kyle and Carol find Quaros.

Worst spa ever.

New Guardians #33 Rating: No change. Hopefully after the Psions are defeated, we'll get a five issue story arc where Carol and Kyle simply discuss their relationship. I'm not saying it would be riveting but I bet it would still sell more copies each month than Cerebus sold every month during its last story arc, The Last Day. Talk about the wheels falling off of a thing with wheels! I should do some in-depth commentary on Dave Sim's entire run of Cerebus. That thing is fascinating on so many levels: pop culture satire, commentary on history and religion, feminist criticism, and the slow meltdown of a comic book creator as he loses himself in a heady mix of Islam, Judaism, and Christianity, not to mention his own narcissism. I still own all the Cerebus Phone Books but sold many of the individual issues which is too bad because his responses to letters and his commentaries in the backs of the single issues help the reader to see when and how each wheel comes off the thing with the wheels (Cerebus! Okay, it has metaphorical wheels! It's just a vehicle in a not very literal sense!). I wonder if he ever published an appendix Cerebus Phone Book with all the stuff he wrote in the backs of the individual issues? I'd actually throw more money at him to own those as well!

Supergirl #33

DC Comics: "Don't forget our Wildstorm line of entertainment products!"

Supergirl needs some new friends and the Wildstorm characters need a title where they can get their feats in the door! That was a pun! Some people say punning is the last refuge of that one friend that annoys the fuck out of you and still thinks Disco Duck was the greatest song ever to be heard on the radio. It wasn't.

Popular Culture History Lesson #1: Disco Duck was an actual song that was played on the radio.

Popular Culture History Lesson #2: Listening to the radio became a game of Audio Russian Roulette when Disco Duck began playing on the radio.

Popular Culture History Lesson #3: The radio fell out of favor with everybody everywhere as soon as Disco Duck was first heard on the radio.

Popular Culture History Lesson #4: Rick Dees was a radio DJ that knew a guy who could do "a really fucking great Donald Duck impression" and somehow decided that should be turned into a fucking song. Nobody stopped him. God help us, nobody stopped him. Instead, people encouraged and helped him.

Multidimensional Popular Culture Lesson #1: The world was destroyed in 65% of alternate universes in which this song was played on the radio. The other 35% limped through a catastrophic existence with a blighted populace that had lost all sense of innocence and hope. Later generations didn't even know the song existed but in much the same way traffic continues to slow long after a crash has been cleared, they continue to feel and sense the despair and sense of loss created by this event. They think their futures have been ruined by out of control corporations and unthinking politicians and racial strife and sexual bigotry. They rally and fight and try to change their world, never realizing that the fight has long been over because of a stupid fucking song they've never even heard of. Good luck, children. I wish you well and hope you can rekindle a sense of belief and rebuild yourselves into a kind and gentle humankind. Though I doubt it is possible. I sincerely doubt for not only have I heard the song but my Aunt owned the record and played it incessantly for several Goddamned terrifying months.

Holy shit I think I've just retraumatized myself.

Um. Never mind all that. What was I talking about? Oh! Supergirl and her loneliness! She needs friends and it looks like Wildstorm characters are going to be her new friends! I hope she doesn't forget about Silver Banshee.

Tony Bedard Lobdellizes this issue's first page.

Supergirl battles the Kryptonian Armor Thing known as Worldkiller-1 as she steadily becomes poisoned by the Kryptonite in the atmosphere. How did the American military get their hands on so much Kryptonite? I thought barely any existed on Earth and Ultraman snorted most of that. But suddenly the military has enough to poison the Earth's entire atmosphere? Something's not right with the editors at DC Comics. If you don't give a shit about continuity, please stop pretending to give a shit about continuity and let the writers run free! I want to hear stories written by writers who want to write the stories they come up with rather than writers being forced to write the story ideas that the stupid, lazy, horrible DC Editors come up with! Not that I'm complaining about this story! Fuck it, I don't even care where all of this Kryptonite came from! I'm just looking to bitch and moan about something.

Speaking of continuity problems, the bomb exploded over Atacama Desert in Chile. Why am I better at the DC Editors' jobs than they are?!

As you can see above, the DC Editors suck. Also, you can see that Supergirl allowed Worldkiller-1 to merge with her so she can save the people of Earth by flying straight into Ground Zero of the Kryptonite Bomb! Well, the incorrect Ground Zero but forget about that! That's just a minor nitpick and I don't want to ruin my mood which is generally upbeat while reading Supergirl. Plus I have a cookie! If I allow DC Comics to spoil my cookie then the terrible editors win.

Worldkiller-1 sloughs off Supergirl because I love the word slough. I hope nobody ever starts using it as a derogatory term for a minority so that we all have to pretend to stop saying it! She then uses her Red Lantern Ring to hyperjump to the sun. That's a thing that Lantern rings can do? I don't get why everybody needs the stupid Indigo Lanterns to teleport them everywhere if Lantern rings can hyperjump and access pocket universes which are really just portals to planets that keep Power Batteries for safekeeping.

Supergirl flies into the sun to save a day! Not the day because this is just one day where the end of the world is being threatened. There will be plenty more of these kinds of days tomorrow.

Superman has survived being in the center of at least three suns, so I think Supergirl should be okay. Even if her heart bursts from Red Ring Removal, she's in the nourishing flames of a yellow sun!

When does the Wildstorm Crew show up? Maybe they're living in a van inside the sun!

Enh. Fuck the scale of the solar system. DC's Editors can't even tell Antarctica from the Arctic.

Supergirl revives inside the sun, flies out, grabs Worldkiller-1 by the entrails and tosses him into the sun. And finally, after 33 issues, Supergirl has her groove back! She's ready to make Earth work and have lots of girly adventures where she goes on dates with hot college men and tee hees at their jokes and gets a job working at a drive thru coffee kiosk!

But wait! Even though that was twenty pages of comic book for only $2.99, there are still two pages left! It's not much of two pages and I'm not sure what Fairchild has against Kryptonians, but she has finally finished destroying all the clones of herself created by the young clone of Niles Caulder. And now she's hoping the rest of her Gen 13 team can kill Superboy! If Burnmaker, Rainfall, Freeout, and Grunge are the team of Gen 13. I've never read it so I'm completely ignorant on the subject.

Supergirl #33 Rating: +1 Ranking. I'm really not entirely sure how it happened but Supergirl has won my heart and some of the things in my pants. Right around when I first got serious about reading comic books, I read the death of Supergirl in Crisis on Infinite Earths and I really didn't give any fucks. But now I feel bad about not caring! This comic book can only get better with Supergirl living an upbeat life on Earth and making new friends and moving back in with Silver Banshee. I sure hope we've seen the last of little old angry Kara.

Red Hood and the Outlaws #33

I wonder if Ed Benes has ever seen a woman with average sized breasts?

I'm currently reading Lolita because I have some huge gaps in my first-hand knowledge of some of the more popular books by successful novelists. I've seen some film version of Lolita that I can hardly remember and I know, from that, how creepy and icky the main character Humbert Humbert was. But I don't remember the film version playing him as quite the pedo he actually is in the book. It seemed to downplay that and focus solely on a middle aged man ruining his life by falling in love with a very young girl. And having sex with her! Don't forget the bit where he's constantly manipulating and fucking her! I mean, sure, that seems like the movie is saying, "Look! This guy is a pedo!" But it also seems like the movie is saying, "Look! This guy just made a little mistake that we all could easily make, given certain circumstances and various dark moods." Although I really don't remember the film, so I probably shouldn't be speaking on it without any clarity of how it really seemed to portray him.

Anyway, I'm only twenty-nine pages in and Nabokov makes sure the reader knows unequivocally, through Humbert Humbert's own words and actions, that he is absolutely a pedophile. Here's a short moment that really allows the reader to identify with Humbert Humbert:

I remember handling an automatic belonging to a fellow student, in the days (I have spoken of them, I think, but never mind) when I toyed with the idea of enjoying his little sister, a most diaphanous nymphet with a black hair bow, and then shooting myself.

See? If you aren't already on Humbert's side at this point, Nabokov continues with the thought that led him to this remembrance:

I now wondered if Valechka [Humbert's wife who just revealed she was in love with another man because Humbert Humbert certainly hasn't been showing any interest in her unless she completely shaved her body, strapped down her bosoms, and wore a young girl's nightshirt.] (as the colonel called her) was really worth shooting, or strangling, or drowning. She had very vulnerable legs, and I decided I would limit myself to hurting her very horribly as soon as we were alone.

At this point, the reader must be thinking, "What a man of conviction! A man with a take charge, can-do attitude! No wonder Lolita falls in love with him! He's such a strong, adult male role model, something like a caretaker that was missing from her childhood or something but which she really needed."

Of course nobody is thinking that nor, do I think, anybody picks up Lolita to be surprised that the main character, who manipulates and corrupts a young girl, is going to be a likable, heroic everyman. But I have to say that if the movie is how I remember it (and I don't know that it is!), it's doing a disservice to the book by not revealing Humbert Humbert for the predator he is, and has been, for his entire life leading up to meeting Lolita. It's also quite probable that I missed the entire first half of the movie where that shit was played up and explained! Like I said, I probably shouldn't be comparing one thing that I've barely even begun to read with another thing that I barely remember.

Bah, why not though, right? America!

One last note about Nabokov's writing before I discuss Scott Lobdell's writing which is the complete antithesis to Nabokov's. I don't really enjoy writing character driven fiction. I just don't have the patience to show a character's character through their actions. I just want to put a gigantic arrow over their head that says "ASSHOLE!" or "NOBLE" or "SHEEP-FUCKER!" But I do enjoy the act of writing critiques on pretty much anything and everything. Short stories are fine too although they tend to revolve around a central philosophical idea rather than being driven by the characters. Anyway, I said I wanted to say something about Nabokov's writing, didn't I? Let me start by saying something about H.P. Lovecraft's writing! When I read Lovecraft, he makes me want to write. I tend to begin writing projects in my head spurred on by Lovecraft's prose and then realize I've read a page or two of Lovecraft without any memory of what I'd read because I was lost in my own writing projects. But Nabokov's writing makes me want to destroy all the typewriters in the world and hang myself. He's just so fucking good at the words. He make me hate mine ability to put things. Bad Nabokov! BAD!

Maybe that's why aspiring writers need a genius like Scott Lobdell! He stands tall and shouts, "Look at my works, ye less than mighty, and hope!" And with that, let us see what horrible turns of phrase and poorly written characterizations Lobdell has for us this month!

I've only just read the title and I've already choked on my own bile and shit myself a little bit.

The issue begins with a look back at Starfire's past after she freed herself from whatever aliens had enslaved her. I think all of them. You know, Daemonites, Czarnians, Thanagarians, Citadelians, Otakus, The Penile-Headed People of Vega III, the Tamaraneans, and probably all the others I can't remember at the moment. She's on a "goodwill" tour (hence the stupid name of the issue!) through the "Peace Corridor." I suppose the "Peace Corridor" is so named because it's not really peaceful at all. It's probably only peaceful because all the aliens which live within it are oppressed and forced to smile or else they're taken out back to an asteroid to be shot.

As we soon find out, even stupid faced cat guards that normally don't think about anything but guarding stuff know something isn't quite as it seems with Starfire's "Good Will Hurting" tour.

I didn't realize the cat people of Eseru Prime had opium and Groucho Marx.

The real opiate of the masses is free speech. As long as people feel like they have a voice and can post misogynist comments on YouTube videos, they feel free and in control! And as such, there is no need for rebellion or a desire to change the system. The most dangerous thing a society can do is tell people that they can't say certain things or use specific words in a game of Scrabble. That's when all hell breaks loose and the walls come crumbling down! A nice side effect of free speech being the opiate of the masses is all the infighting that occurs with the citizens of a country as they argue about which words are appropriate for general usage and which words shouldn't be said by anybody. While the populace bickers about trying to control an uncontrollable monster like language, the power hungry bastards trying to ru(i)n everything sit back and shove cigars up their asses! That's how the Reptilian Elite smoke cigars. It's a fact!

Look! An error in a Scott Lobdell comic book! *point emphatically*

Textual errors are the opiates of Scott Lobdell's writing. While everybody is distracted with the typos and homophone mistakes, nobody notices how awful everything else about Lobdell's script actually is.

Horrible feet are the opiates of Rob Liefeld's drawings. People complain so much about his inability to draw feet that they miss the bigger picture: he can't draw anything!

One thing Scott Lobdell has done this month that I approve of is his use of thought bubbles for Starfire's voice over Narration Boxes. That means her thoughts are in the moment instead of being spoken by some odd future version of her that already knows how this story ends. He has also chosen to go with the omniscient narrator for the voice in the Narration Boxes. Lobdell is just making old school choices all over the place!

I do wish that he'd stop using "so-called" to describe nearly everything though.

Anyway, Starfire is investigating some strange goings onses in the Aforementioned Catacombs beneath the Royal Palace. That's a strange name for a series of catacombs but who am I to judge what an alien race of cat people call things? Although I would have expected something like Vile String Catacombs or Ephemeral Red Laser Bug Catacombs or Shiny Shiny Shiny What Was I Doing Catacombs or Pet My Tummy Now You're Going To Die Catacombs or This Food Sucks I'm Going To Eat My Litter Now Catacombs or In Then Out Then In Then Out Then In Then Out Catacombs. Oh, that reminds me of a poem I wrote a long time ago.

The Cat
By Grunion Guy

Eat. Sleep.
Sleep. Eat.
It's in my seat.

Within the Aforementioned Catacombs are dozens of slaves! Kori has come to free them which she does. She frees them. She frees them all! Helping her are the crew of the Starfire, Depalo the Dominator and Kitt'n the Sexually Lubricated. Sorry. That sounded disgusting. I apologize for typing it and then not deleting it and then uploading it to the internet and then slipping it into the text sideways so that it waylaid you and you had to read it. My bad.

Anyway, Kori traveled up and down the Peace Corridor for years rescuing slaves on each of her "Goodwill Hurting" Tour stops. I guess interstellar communication and good old detective work hadn't been invented yet in the Peace Corridors since, for years, nobody ever noticed the pattern. Princess Kori stops by to tell everybody everything will be okay and then, later that night, all the slaves escape. I think I might have noticed that pattern after about one year or so, depending on how many stops she made each month. But then I'm as good a detective as Batman and also an Earthling, so I'm obviously smarter than any aliens. It's the ability to feel emotion and the never give up attitude of Earthlings that make us special, you know! At least that's what popular science fiction has taught me.

S.H.A.D.E. stands for that? I could see A.G.O.G.S.M.A.M.T.H.O.M.A.M. standing for that. But not S.H.A.D.E.

Kori has exited for from the Ant Farm leaving Red Hood and Roy Harper to figure out why she freaked out. I bet it has something to do with her Goodwill Hurting Tour!

Red Hood has more than one six? Is he extra-dimensional?

Within the capsule that arrived at the Ant Farm with a hologram saying, "Save us Kori. You're our only hope," are a bunch of dead alien slaves. Roy Harper starts throwing punches because Langstrom says something that upsets him (reasonable!) which forces Dr. Langstrom to turn into Man-bat so the Outlaws will fall in line. Jason Todd is surprised by this revelation because he never did his Bat-Homework. Also because I guess in The New 52 timeline, Men-bat are more associated with the League of Assassins than Kirk Langstrom.

Meanwhile Starfire finds herself in Mos Eisley looking for some information. She's not very subtle about it because she learned about extracting information from Jason Todd and Roy Harper. So instead of learning anything, she just finds herself in the middle of a battle with a whole bunch of aliens. But that battle will take place next week, same Red Hood Time, same Red Hood channel!

Red Hood and the Outlaws #33 Rating: No change. Holy Vatican Shit Stains, Popeman! I actually didn't despise a comic book by Scott Lobdell! Sure, there were some amateurish mistakes and a heavy reliance on common tropes and character reactions but you have to look at the bigger picture. It's a story that makes sense and is driven by Starfire's history and experience. And I applaud Scott Lobdell for not making me suffer through page after page of Roy Harper Narration Boxes. I think he's beginning to take my advice by bringing back thought bubbles and omniscient narrators (within limits, of course! Nobody likes those old school Narration Boxes that just describe what you can already see happening in the panel). The only thing I really despised about this comic book was the cover. What the fuck was that? It's not alluring. It doesn't draw my attention. It has no personality. It's just the three main characters engaged in action packing! That's something people engage in, right? Boring!