Bombshells #11

Big Barda's weapon is a flute?

The Review!
As a "critic," I usually concentrate on the writing and the story and the characters. I talk about the art rarely. I talk about the lettering even less. I suppose those are important parts of critiquing comic books though whenever anybody praises the letterer, it just comes off as being polite. It's like acknowledging that the right fielder on a baseball team did his part to win the championship even though everybody knows he mostly just ate sunflower seeds for three hours. But this time things are different. I have fallen in love with Mirka Andolfo's art. The Bombshells are genuinely adorable in this issue. Maybe I've noticed it and mentioned it before but I don't remember because I've been slacking in my reviews over the last few months. So great job, Mirka. And great jobs Bennett and Braga as well, as usual. This is a fun comic that looks terrific. But everybody probably knows that already, right? This comic probably outsells Batman, right? Okay, maybe that's a stretch. But I bet it would if DC would just stick a centerfold in it already!

The Commentary!
Instead of being a completely cynical jerk and ranting over everybody's responses to the death of Prince, how about I just add one of my own inconsequential to anybody but me brief summaries of how Prince affected my life. Here are a number of memories I have of Prince: crying to "When Doves Cry" because of that whole parental relationship stuff, roller skating to "Little Red Corvette" until I finally understood that he wasn't singing about a car at all, masturbating to the Lake Minnetonka scene in Purple Rain, and singing along to "1999" for seventeen years thinking how fucking awesome it was going to be when I could finally sing it in 1999! I wasn't the kind of fan who bought Prince albums. I think the best testament to his talent is that I was into metal in the eighties and still never hated any of Prince's singles. They were just too fucking catchy.

And with that out of the way, I'm ready to look at hot women in skimpy costumes!

Granny Goodness invented timeouts. And probably roller skates.

I don't think this comic book needs any commentary and I'm not in the mood. I just want to look at all the sexy pictures.

I don't know what the 'FWOOM' and 'SSSSSSS' sound effects are for but I think they're sexy.

After this kiss, Mera tells a sexy story about how she was Diana's first kiss. But Diana interrupts the story before Mera can reveal what other of Diana's fists she was. I mean firsts.

I know something that's not a first: my current boner!

Batgirl is also in London now. I guess she got done fucking Catwoman. Like I mentioned previously (although the mention may have been in a previous commentary), I haven't been keeping decent notes on the stories for the past few months so I sort of forget where exactly every Bombshell was last seen. It's easier now knowing that they're all mostly in Europe. I guess Zatanna and Harley are still in Germany and that's about it.

Okay, now I can't decide if Braga's or Mirka's Bombshells are the most adorable.

At the end the Bombshells unite into the best looking Justice League ever.

Black Canary #10

Is this the cover of Black Canary's new album, Zombie Batgirl?

The Review!
I'm not forgetting that you owe me four pages of Black Canary comic book, DC Comics! Until then, I refuse to give a proper review of this comic book which is aimed at the type of people who describe every musical act with a hodgepodge of terms to make themselves seem more knowledgeable about music. "Tattered Cumrags is like a synth 80s basement pseudo-rockabilly post-prepunk skat (that's a type of ska scat, of course!) garage funk-jazz combo death-ballad deal with the most authentic stage act I've ever been seen enjoying. You should read my review on my music blog!" In much the way that I like this new hip style of comic book in the pages of Batgirl, I can't stand it in the pages of Black Canary. I might still roll my eyes whenever Batgirl's creative team tries to make the comic book like a video game or shows her shopping at artsy toy stores full of anime and record albums, or expresses how social contact through technology is literally the most important thing to young people, or overuses the word literally, but I still enjoy the characters and the stories. Or should I say "story" since every story has been somebody trying to steal Batgirl's mind or identity. But when this comic book does any of those things, I just can't stop making jerking off motions with both hands and maybe even one of my feet. This comic is like a man who cultivates a beard and uses oils on it and feels proud of it when all he's really done is not fucking shave. I resent young people with beards. It makes my appearance seem calculated and pretentious when it's really just that I can't fucking be bothered with staying kempt anymore.

Okay, fine. My facial hair is on point. Or are we still saying on fleek? Okay fine. I've never said that in my life. I'm sorry I even brought it up.

The Commentary
This issue begins with Babs and Grumps checking out Black Canary videos on whatever the DC You calls YouTube which I would never acknowledge even if I could remember what they call it. So right from the start, I'm making jerking off motions all over the place. Although in the video, Black Canary's boobs are fleeking the fuck out, so I'm enjoying that much, at least. Plus the comic begins to read like a Batgirl book anyway so maybe I'm coming around on this Black Canary thing. As long as she stays away from the music scene, I might be able to enjoy reading this comic book (even though it still owes me four pages).

I can't even imagine how that mistake in the last panel comes about. At first glance, it seems obvious that the word balloons are on the wrong characters. But why would Moritat have drawn Grump Canary so happy and Barbara looking so pissed? Except wait! The one in the back actually is Grump Canary! You can tell by her lack of lips and her cuffed trousers. But then why is she suddenly wearing Barbara's shirt and sporting Babs's hair color? It's not like Moritat was using an inker who might have fucked it up and sketched in some changes. Can the colorist make changes like that? Is this Lee's fault completely?! Not to mention the editors who let this panel through!

Oh wait! I found Grump Canary's lips!

How did she do that? Was she just sucking them in the entire time?!

Just when I thought I was going to enjoy this Batgirlized version of Black Canary, the duo go to stop some guy named Mad Wax who is robbing a record store. OH MY GOD THIS COMIC IS SO COOL IT TAKES PLACE IN A RECORD STORE FUCK ME ARGLE BARGLE!

Mad Wax recognizes Grump Canary as D.D. and flips the fuck out because it allows him to use words like "amazing" and "E.P." I hate him. I especially hate Mad Wax because how does he afford henchmen when he's merely stealing records? It would probably be more profitable if he worked alone and instead of stealing records, he just used his encyclopedic knowledge of them to find rare tracks being sold in record stores that don't know any better and then selling them online for a huge profit. I guess that wouldn't be cool enough. Who would take his weekend DJing gig seriously if he was just a record buyer and not a Gotham super-villain!

Grump Canary is in town to do some research with Batgirl's help. It's all in the name of figuring out what happened to Dinah's mom and why Dinah's aunt is now the leader of a Ninja Death Cult and how Vixen might be tied into it all as well. And then Moritat's six pages of art end and I lose about 30% of my interest in reading the comic book. No offense to Sandy but I fucking love Moritat's art.

The rest of the story is a fight between Grump Canary and an electric ninja looking to learn the Five Heavens Palm technique created by Dinah's mom. But Dinah doesn't know it so the electric ninja kills herself for nothing. Afterward, Dinah discovers her band is in Berlin and playing in a club that's owned by some guy who is tied into the mystery of Dinah's mom's death. So it's back to Germany next month!

Edge of Oblivion #4

I never realized what a high percentage of Guy's costume was turtle neck and collar.

The Review!
I don't really care what happens in this comic book. Reading this comic book is like watching somebody mop up after a drunk asshole pisses all over the bathroom floor. Basically something occurred that should not have occurred and now Tom Taylor has to clean it all up before people begin to think that the bathroom floor has always been covered in Cullen Bunn's piss. Eventually the Corps will get back to the proper universe and everybody will forget that this little side adventure was ever pitched and somehow received as a good idea. On the plus side, Tom Taylor does the best job he can with a mop and a floor covered with piss. He even manages to wring one more twist out of the Green Lantern Mythos by making the bad guys who the Lanterns thought were the good guys into the super bad guys known as...The Blackest Knights! I bet Geoff Johns heard that and was all, "What?! Why didn't I think of that!" Of course Johns may have thought of it since I didn't read any of his ten year long run (Preboot, of course). Also, the Blackest Knights are a thinly veiled analogy of the United States foreign policy of constant war and imperialism while Marniel represents the powerless resorting to terrorist acts to do what they think is right. Of course, it all leads to a big fight between the Green Lanterns, some who have been brainwashed by Western propaganda and others who see the truth! Not that I'm judging anything in any way! I'm just describing what this book is about!

So basically, if you hate America, you should love this book! There might be other reasons to love this book too but I wouldn't know what they are. I just know this book keeps reminding me that Lost Army was a thing. A horrible, horrible thing.

Earth 2: Society #11

Superman just looks like Captain Atom with his "S" torn off the chest.

The Review!
Perhaps a comic book about a contrived global conflict is the kind of book that makes certain dicks hard and certain pussies wet but it does neither for my dick and/or pussy. This is a story about a society that doesn't trust superheroes and blames them for all of their troubles. Yawn. Double yawn. Triple yawn, even! I don't even know why superhero comic books continue to be published if the main thing modern writers have to say within them is that people don't like authority. Unless they're saying something else with the whole allegory of the misplaced trust in power that I've become too numb and bored to care about figuring out. I don't care what it might be like if a superhero had to deal with the bureaucracies and red tape and public mistrust of public figures extant in the actual world. What I wouldn't mind is an accurate representation of the real world but where superheroes are an added element that just makes the world a better place. What a daring fucking concept, no?

The Commentary!
The less control a person feels they need to exert on the world, the happier that person will be. That's why I'm always so angry when I read shitty comic books! Because I wish I could lock the writer up in my Secret Room of Secret Things and teach them how to write. Not that I know the secret to writing interesting things! I do know the secret to writing popular things though. You write something cliche that appeals to a broad base, hope that the cool young people feel that liking your thing will give them some kind of cultural cache, and then all of the other lemmings (also known as "young people") will like your thing too, desperately trying to portray themselves as having liked it years before anybody else did. But even if I can't really teach a bad writer how to write in my Secret Room of Secret Things, I can at least take out my frustrations on them in horribly demeaning ways. Like I might say, after having them sit in the chair with the broken spring, "How is your mother?" If they reply with anything that isn't "My mother is dead," then I say, "I already knew that because she screamed it while I was doing her hard." I would also be sure to make dramatic hip motions while saying that and maybe do some vulgar thing with my fingers and tongue. Then I would ask, "How is your father?" If they replied with anything that wasn't "My father is dead," I would say, "I know! Who do you think was running the camera while I gave it to your mom!" Then I would ask if they wanted some lemonade and if they said yes, I would tell them I was all out and that they would have to leave now. Boom! Lesson learned, bad writer! Now I just have to hope Cullen Bunn answers "Yes" to my evite!

In my first draft, I had Scott Lobdell as the bad writer but then I thought, "What has Scott Lobdell ever done to me? It's not like he ever posted a picture of a guy flipping the bird and directed it at me!" So that's why I replaced him with Cullen Bunn. I will also be making Cullen Bunn my honorary go-to whipping boy for no other reason than that he once acknowledged that I existed. He should have gone the Gail Simone route and acknowledged my existence in a pleasant way so as to avoid my hate-attention.

I suppose the opposite of my initial statement is also true: the less control a person feels the world is trying to exert on them, the happier the person will be. This is why white cis males should be happy all the time. All of those angry white guys with the man-tears are really blowing their big advantage! Why argue with somebody who attacks white men for simply being white and men? Just ignore them like you've always done prior to that point and live your life the best way any individual can live it: by being recognized by the majority of society that you are, indeed, an individual! When somebody makes a crack about white men, I just laugh and go, "I know, right? Fucking white men are ridiculous!" Because I don't think of myself as a white man! I think of myself as Tess! Or Grunion Guy! Or my real name which you can easily find out but I won't write it here and make it that easy for you. Then I go get a free massage and basket of french fries at one of the many secret White Guy Speakeasies located in every major city.

Oops! Forget I said that! Especially the part about the free french fries and how they're the most delicious I've ever had. Oh wait. I didn't say that. Just forget that too! Oh look over there! It's an Earth 2 comic book!

I was hoping to find an intriguing panel as the distraction but I'm seven pages in and all I've got is this.

Jesus Christ has a line in Jesus Christ Superstar where he says, "To conquer death, you only have to die." That's what I think of whenever there's any backlash to some pop piece of entertainment where the characters or the casting isn't up to White Male Nerd Expectations. What the fuck are you arguing for? You're railing against normalizing things but you think you're somehow keepers of the gates of normalcy. And every time you argue, you're proving that you're ultimate reason for not wanting to change is based in bigotry and superficial bullshit. Instead of allowing the rising tide to drown everyone lift every boat, you're trying to keep all the boats with short anchor chains anchored to the position they've been in for decades while your boat has been without an anchor for centuries. Do you want to stop having this constant discussion about diversity and inclusiveness and privilege? You only have to die. You only. Have. To die.

I know the previous paragraph will be completely misconstrued (which, lucky for me, I won't ever be popular enough to matter) but what do I care?! It's art! I don't have a mandate to explain everything I say in a way that the stupidest person can understand it! That's like asking David Lynch to explain Lost Highway to a large percentage of the audience. I've told this story before but with close to three thousand blog posts (most of them about me and only peripherally about the comic book I'm reading at the time), I should be allowed repeated story tellings. So I was with my old high school friend Soy Rakelson years ago and we were discussing Lost Highway. He thought that it was too confusing and that the auteur had a duty to try to make his or her work understandable. As we talked, he noticed I had John Barth's Lost in the Funhouse nearby and he said, "Oh man! I loved that story in here about the Swimmers!" And I said, "Oh, the one about the sperm." And he looked at me quizzically and said, "You know, the one with the Swimmers?" And I said, "Yeah. The one with the sperm questioning the whole point of his seemingly pointless existence." And his jaw dropped and he was all, "Holy crap." And I was all, "Don't you think an auteur has a duty to try to make his or her work understandable?" For Soy, the story was fascinating because of the philosophical quandary of the narrator. But to me, I couldn't imagine the story really meaning anything if you didn't walk away from it realizing that the Swimmer was a spermatozoa. It definitely changed Soy's take on the story after that.

I don't know if we actually used the word "auteur" that night but seeing that we were both in the same Lit Theory class at the time, we probably did. Although we weren't wearing sweater vests or sipping espressos at the local coffee shop (which was called City Lights, by the way).

I don't think the auteur was very clear about which character is supposed to be speaking which thoughts. I'm fairly certain the little arrows are pointing at all the wrong people. Another possibility is I'm just too stupid to get the gist of this conversation. Is Giffen writing this?

Speaking of Soy Rakelson, he was one of those white guys who constantly felt like he was a victim. He was also Catholic and so he felt under attack all the time on that front too. Plus his family was from Chicago and he was defensive about that as well! One time he wrote a letter to the San Jose State Student Paper arguing about the proposed Black Student Union. At the time, he didn't realize that it was just another group and not, as he thought, a completely new building that would be just for black students. Fuck I wish I'd kept that paper! I'm pretty sure he invoked out of context quotes from people like Benjamin Franklin and Abraham Lincoln to defend his position (a position, I remind you, that was totally based on his misunderstanding of the situation).

I proposed getting a Mortal Kombat video game cabinet for non-Asians but my letter was never printed. I was just tired of getting my spine pulled out by the Asian students and figured I could probably beat a white person or two if only I could get the opportunity to play one!

I should probably begin discussing Earth 2: Society since it's beginning to get interesting. And by "interesting," I simply mean it's beginning to irk me enough to start ranting.

The various cities that have sprung up around Earth Too are ready to go to war over the planet's resource rights. The only problem is that the planet doesn't have any resources. Except for, you know, the two suns. And probably wind. Maybe water. Possibly geothermal. But even though the people of Earth 2 had the technology to build escape ships for a small chunk of their population (I'm not talking about the slipships that Mister Terrific and whoever found for the eventual escape from Darkseid), they apparently can't figure out solar power. It was explained earlier that somehow solar power doesn't work with these suns but I'm pretty sure that explanation was so that people like me would just shut up about it and simply deal with the plot as Dan Abnett wants me to deal with it.

During peace talks with the leaders of the cities, Green Lantern lets it slip that the planet has no natural resources. This leaves the leaders to draw the only conclusion possible: they have to all go to war to steal the other people's resources. I guess everybody has really bonded with the other people who just happened to wind up on the same escape ships as they did. I bet they think twice about going to war when they realize that two of the armies they'll have to battle are composed of Amazons and Atlanteans! I bet they start crying peace all over the place when they learn that little morsel!

I don't think I truly hated this comic book until this panel.

It's not that I'm annoyed that some asshole politicians aren't accepting any kind of responsibility for their own actions or are looking for somebody else to blame. I suppose that's fitting. But what I can't stand is how the "Wonders" just pull down their pants and take it. I don't know what "it" is but it's not any kind of rape, just in case you were about to feel triggered. If Green Lantern's response isn't, "Well, fuck it. I tried. Let them fucking sort it out," I'll be disappointed. Why superheroes feel the need to keep helping when all they receive in return is shit and more shit is beyond me. Oh, I get it. Because they're heroes and they do what's right no matter how popular it is. Although if that were the truth, then Superman really would be a fascist dickface, wouldn't he?

Fury of Amazonia wants to save the world for their own sake and believes they'll thank her for it later. Green Lantern wants to save the world even though they hate him and don't want his help. I say let Fury take over and Green Lantern can save the world if they all write really polite letters to him asking for his help.

The best part of the story is probably the part I won't spend a word on because that's no fun! I'll be all, "And then Ted Grant gets punched in the face and Red Arrow is all, 'My boxing glove arrow doesn't work on mist people!' But Batdick is all, 'Guys? Guys? Status, guys? Guys?' And then Ted Grant is all, 'What's gonna work?' And Red Arrow is all, 'Teamwork!'"

Anyway, Green Lantern is a big hippie failure so Sandman, Sato, and Steel (the S.S.S?) decide to impose martial law and kill anybody who doesn't do what they say. Serves them right!

Constantine the Hellblazer #11

This is exactly the type of hedonistic deviltries I expect people in Hollywood to get up to.

The Review!
This version of Constantine has managed to retain the spirit of the character unlike the previous sanitized New 52 version which was just John getting into trouble with magic or demons and then John casting a dangerous spell with dire consequences to save the day and then never really having to deal with the dire consequences. It might not feel quite as gritty and dark as the Vertigo version but it's close enough that I'm really enjoying it. And besides, the main constant in Constantine's life is that every few years, he gets a new creative team to tell his stories. And this is a new team with an interesting take and conflicts that need more imaginative sorting than the ones found in the previous version.

The Commentary
This weekend, my seven year old niece wanted me to pick her up because she had a secret she wanted to tell me. When I picked her up, she said, "Will you carry me forever?" Some people may have been overwhelmed by the loving gesture but I instantly saw it as a moneymaking opportunity! I said, "Sure I can. If you pay me!" She said she had no money so I asked her how much her mother had. Long story short, my niece owes me a quarter next time I see her.

Here she is doing a better Lobo impression than Twat Lobo from The New 52.

Another thing that happened is people on Tumblr began reblogging my favorite X-men story joke but not understanding it was a joke because it was such a spot on parody of the mess the X-men have become thanks to decades of loony time travel stories. This is what I said: "Favorite X-men story: the X-men time travel from the future to stop the time traveling X-men of the past from time traveling into the future to stop the future time travelers from time traveling." It turns out this must fairly accurately describe some New X-Men story arc that I've never read because people keep tagging it with New X-men notes and defending Hank McCoy's decision to...I don't know! Fuck up continuity?! Other people have reblogged it thinking it really is an example of somebody's favorite story arc because they agree with it and think it's awesome. I am left with the conclusion that people are far too earnest than they probably think they are. My story idea is obviously nonsense! Although if it's an accurate representation of a story that happened in the X-men universe then fuck the X-men universe because that shit is shit. Which it must be because somebody replied to my joke with this: "In the end, retconning the story and making it seem like nothing happened." I shouldn't be so surprised that I can make such an educated guess as to the stories of the X-men even though I haven't read one since Grant Morrison and Josh Whedon were writing for the series because I am, after all, a Grandmaster Comic Book Reader.

To be fair, it's not like I can check all of the tags people add to every reblog. I should be earnest enough to believe that everybody gets it's a joke and stop being overly cynical about every single fucking thing that ever happens in this universe. I also should have made my niece sign an IOU.

To be more fair, one person tagged the post "No Joke". No, actually it was a joke. It was a fucking joke! It isn't actually my favorite story nor did I realize such a story seems to actually exist! I can't tell what is real anymore!

Anyway, Constantine is currently in L.A. instead of New York so that he can bitch about how people like to point out the differences between the two places. He says people who compare the two are missing the point and then begins shitting all over Los Angeles because he thinks they think they're better than everybody else. Which is probably true. But it isn't any less true about New Yorkers, so why even bring it up?

This guy's night just got interesting!

The party is being hosted by the angel Gabriel. Get it? Because it's the city of angels! Is that the real difference between New York and Los Angeles? One is full of demons and the damned and the other is full of angels and shit?

Gabriel is the guardian angel of Hollywood making sure that the entertainment industry doesn't get taken over by all those filthy demons from New York. That sounds like it could be an anti-Semitic allegory! Although if it is, it doesn't make any sense because the Jews already own Hollywood which would mean Gabriel totally fucked up his job.

Constantine has come to Gabriel for help against Neron. Oh yeah! I forgot that there was an actual story lurking in the shadows here. Constantine's argument for Gabriel's help is that if New York is taken over by Neron, all of the seedy magicians and their annoying familiars are going to flood into Los Angeles. I happen to think a good amount of them would wind up in Portland because why not? Every other loser who believes they have an ounce of creativity has found their way here.

It's possible I just insulted myself in the last sentence of the previous paragraph.

Ugh! No! I just said...NO, DAMMIT! ENOUGH!

Gabriel says he won't help so Constantine decides to just fuck off. Let somebody else deal with it. He's just going to go get drunk. The problem with that is Constantine can never just fuck off. Something always pulls him back in. And this time, it'll probably be Oliver. Or drugs. Maybe some hot sex. Alcohol? Could wind up being anything, really.

I forgot Deadman was on the cover so it surprises me when Boston Brand becomes the thing trying to pull Constantine back to New York. Although John swears he's still working with the angels even though Gabriel politely declined to help. He probably put something in the smoke he kept breathing into Gabriel's face that will cause Gabriel some kind of mystic discomfort which only John can cure and he'll only cure it if Gabriel helps. That sounds like a Constantine plan.

Eventually, Deadman just possesses John and drags him back to New York against his will. On the flight, John manages to banish Deadman but since John's stuck in New York overnight now, he decides to head home to his own bed. That's where he discovers Oliver who explains that his daughters have been taken to Hell. Whoops!

Gotham Academy #17

This is way too sexy for junior high. So I hope they're all in high school!

The Review!
Gotham Academy is one of my favorite comic books because I have a crush on most of the characters. The only problem I have with it is that it turned Serpents and Spells into just another fake DC Comics version of a real thing. In this case, it's Dungeons and Dragons. If you didn't know that then what are you doing reading crappy comic book reviews on the internet? You should be having sexual relations with other people who have never heard of Roller Playing Games! Anyway, I've decided to fix DC's mistake. I'm going to write the Maps version of Serpents and Spells. When I'm finished, it will be available as a monthly reward on my recently brought back to life Patreon!

The Commentary!
I've been reading a book called The Lore and Language of Schoolchildren and it reminded me of a rhyme I learned in elementary school that I'm guessing a bunch of people remember hearing, or at least a similar version of it. It went like this:

"Miss Suzy had a steamboat,
Her steamboat had a bell,
Miss Suzy went to heaven,
Her steamboat went to
Hello operator
Give me number nine.
If you disconnect me,
I'll kick in your
Behind the frigerator,
There was a piece of glass.
Miss Suzy sat upon it
And broke her little
Ask me no more questions,
I'll tell you no more lies.
The boys are in the bathroom
Zipping up their
Flies are in the garbage,
Bees are in the park.
Boys and girls are kissing
In the D-A-R-K dark!"

I don't know how well I remembered it here but I guess that's the point with these childhood rhymes. They're oral tradition and thus they change and mutate over time. The memes of the Internet-free childhood.

Maybe one of the kids in Gotham Academy will recite this rhyme now because isn't that how life works? It's just a random mishmash of synchronous moments that seem to mean more than they actually do?

Recently in Gotham Academy, it's just been a bunch of mini-stories about life at Gotham's strangest school. But also recently, Damian has stolen the yearbook Maps was working on that housed all of those zany stories! She knows this because Pomeline watched Damian take it and didn't lift one magic finger to stop him.

Bugsy's Icy Grasp? As in "Bigby's Icy Grasp"? I'm beginning to suspect Serpents and Spells is just a blatant rip-off of Dungeons and Dragons!

I would create the hell out a Maps-written Serpents and Spells! But only if DC were paying me. Which they should be since I would be the best choice to design that game. Can people get jobs by simply telling potential employers to trust them? Because, "Trust me, DC! I am an expert at creating Roller Playing Games!"

I have a question that isn't about giving me a job: Why are Pomeline, Olive, and Maps so adorable? Maps is the kind of "I wish I was this person" adorable. And Olive is adorable in a kind of "I have a crush on her and must stare at her throughout lunch without ever talking to her" way. And Pomeline is adorable in a kind of "I bet she fucks good" way.

The first story is about how stupid Heathcliff was because he went off with Black Canary to live out his dream of managing a band instead of staying behind to kiss Pomeline every day. What a dolt! Doesn't he know about romance?! Romantic rule #1 is to give up everything you ever cared about for somebody to love because life is terrible otherwise!

Romantic Rules are the worst for living your best life though! It's better to only love somebody who will throw away their life to be with you as you pursue your dream! That's Cynic Rule #1! It might not make people swoon when you tell them you can't kiss them anymore because you have to pursue something meaningful but they can't fault you if they're not willing to throw their life away either! Hypocrites!

Maps said cunt.

The next story is about Maps and Olive going on one of their ghost hunts. It begins in a really terrible way because Olive and Maps are talking about Serpents and Spells as if it's just the DC version of Dungeons and Dragons instead of a game Maps made up like I'm pretty sure was the original idea behind it. Even if it wasn't, it doesn't matter. I'm going to make a Serpents and Spells game and give it away as a reward for being a supporter of my Patreon which I'm resurrecting to try to rope in all of my Dwarf Lover fans (since I'm starting up Dwarf Lover again). If I don't make any extra money with that, I'm also going to have to start working extra hard on my Bible Study for Dumb Dumbs and see how much I can make selling digital books. If that doesn't pan out, I suppose I'd better learn how to make a noose and figure out which one of the rafters in the attic can support my weight!

That was an inappropriate joke about suicide! I would never actually kill myself because I'm totally in love with myself. Of course, if I ever catch me cheating on myself, I might do it in a fit of passion.

In this story, Maps and Olive encounter Teekl which makes it about the best story ever and fifty bajillion times better than Nocenti's attempt at writing Klarion. Especially since Ann Nocenti thought it would a good idea to keep Teekl dead in a jar. What a dope!

The final story is about the coolest group of kids to ever pitch a twenty-sided die at Gotham Academy: The Gilkey Warlocks! They're just the kind of cool kids I would have hung around in junior high if I wanted people to believe I didn't actually hang around with these kinds of kids in junior high which I did. I once played Dungeons and Dragons in the cafeteria with Ted Balman as the dungeon master and John Bailey and Chris Beal. You know, the cool kids! Right?

The Gilkey Warlocks disappeared because they played that Satanic game and Maps knows where they were last seen! It's a secret room which she wrote about in the year book Damian stole so she thought maybe he'd be there. And he was! And still is! It's just Maps and Olive won't notice him until next issue.

Red Hood Loves Arsenal #11

This cover perfectly captures the essence of the story within: confusing garbage.

The Review!
Scott Lobdell will always have a job working for editors who hate trying to wrangle writers into being team players (being a team player, to an editor, is doing exactly what the editor wants) because Scott Lobdell has no vision of his own. I suppose you can say that his vision is writing characters that he thinks young people can identify with by making them rebellious and full of angst and angry at adults and authority but that's about the extent of it. It's not like he can build consistency in his characters over time because he just needs them to act in a way that will further whatever direction editorial wants the characters to be headed. So if editorial thinks Jason Todd as a murderous anti-hero sells, that's who the readers get. But when attitudes seem to change and people think he shouldn't be going around shooting everybody in the face, suddenly he's against killing! That might be okay if the stories backed up the change in character. But Red Hood changes his attitude by seeming whim alone. At least Roy Harper has been consistent. You always know he's the same old Rockabilly Genius that the introduction assures the reader he is, no matter the evidence to the contrary. What I'm trying to say is that this book is terrible with a capital shitfuck.

The Commentary!
Scott Lobdell has fallen into a rhythm with his Red Hood Loves Arsenal stories. He's found a theme that he's determined to stick with no matter how tired anybody gets of it. That theme is redemption. You see, Jason Todd and Roy Harper have both been given second chances. So now Jason Todd is only ever going to run into other characters who might be seen as villains or, at best, anti-heroes and he's going to cradle them in his arms and say, "Shh. Shh. Daddy's here now. You deserve to be loved. And I'm the one to do it because it'll show I'm better than Batman. And Roy will help because he wants to be better than Green Arrow. Because adults are poopy." Then all the shallow misfits of the world who can somehow, blindly, look past Scott Lobdell's awful writing feel good and embrace the comic book and call Jason Todd their little lost puppy dog. I don't know how many of those people exist because all the misfits I've ever known are anything but shallow and would sooner shit on a copy of Red Hood Loves Arsenal than read it. I don't currently have to shit so I guess I'm going to read it.

This issue begins with a flashback to when Roy Harper was working with the Wrecking Crew or whatever the fuck the bad guys are called in this issue. They're basically the negative version of Roy and Jason's Heroes for Hire business. Roy Harper's narration helps me remember that this crew call themselves Iron Rule. I'm not sure why. I've never heard of the Iron Rule before. Is that the one where you treat other people how you'd like to be treated if you liked to be treated like shit?

Once again, thanks to Roy Harper's incessant narration, I discover the meaning of the name!

It doesn't sound cool at all. It sounds fascist.

While Roy has nightmares about his old team and I have nightmares about the amount of Roy Harper Narration Boxing I have to read, Red Hood and Duela Dent discuss how she feels about going back to school. Duela doesn't find it weird that Jason Todd is completely made up as Red Hood for this chat. She should have though because Jason Todd is ambushing her. He found the Joker's face she kept hidden in the bathroom so now it's time to turn on her. Hey, he tried to help! She just didn't want the help and decided to keep doing what she wanted to do! So now his only choice is to abandon her even though that would mean he's not better than Bruce at all. He's exactly like Bruce!

Okay, maybe he's nothing like Bruce. He's not even the shit scraped off the bottom of Bruce's Batshoe. Jason Todd is an asshole.

This is probably why Scott Lobdell still has a job at DC Comics. You would think that the company would want to hire great writers and then keep the great writers working for them because great writing creates great word of mouth which creates great sales. But in the comic book business, what you really want is a writer who doesn't give a shit about what they're writing and will burn everything they've been working on at the drop of an editorial hat. So even though Lobdell has been working on this whole redemption theme and how Jason Todd has the compassion and empathy to try to understand and help the bad guys (after, you know, years of him just shooting people in the face. Again, Lobdell doesn't give a shit about consistency), Rebirth crops up and the status quo needs to change. So Jason Todd decides to forget all that shit about how he saw a little bit of himself in The Joker's Daughter just because she backslid once (or twice? Who cares how many times. He knows how hard it is to better oneself!), he's going to abandon her. And not just by sending her to Arkham where she can get help (okay, so nobody is actually getting help in Arkham. But she can theoretically get help there in the context of the DC You's reality). No, he has to shoot her and make a stupid fucking joke. Nice work, dick.

Meanwhile there's the Roy Harper story that I just don't fucking care about because Scott Lobdell has ruined Roy Harper forever. I'm not even being dramatic! Roy Harper is done! He'll never get the stink of Lobdell off him! No, that's not true. There's one way DC Comics can fix Roy Harper so that I'm not constantly remembering how awful he was in Lobdell's scripts. If DC can manage to get Thomas Pynchon to write a Roy Harper comic book, I might be able to forget how shitty he's been written for the last five years. Anyway, the comic ends with Roy facing off against Iron Rule. I hope they kill him.