Saturday, April 23, 2016

Batman Loves Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #5


Does The Penguin really belong in Arkham?

The Review!
You know. It's Batman and the Ninja Turtles. This issue includes Damian and a bunch of Furry-Flavored Arkham Inmates. So if any of those things are up your alley, you probably already know about it and have purchased this book because you're a nineties kid. I don't have anything smart to say about it because when do I ever have anything smart to say? Even when I know the smart things I want to say, I can't say them! Like today on the way to the coffee shop to get some iced tea, one of the Project-Cloverleaf, Blood-Transfusions-For-AIDS-Patients, chalk drawing vagabonds on Hawthorne saw that I was wearing my X-files "I want to believe" shirt and said, "So why don't you just believe?" I rolled my eyes pretty heavily and muttered and growled but I didn't tell the person to shove their agenda-filled comment up their fucking ass for simply ignoring the nuance of the phrase "I want to believe" and believing that the only reason I won't believe is because I don't have some kind of shit-eating faith. Stupid people believe just to believe, asshole. Some people want to believe in things that they know are complete and utter nonsense but are still attracted to the idea of it. I would love to believe that my ego will transcend death and I will live forever. But guess what? That's fucking bullshit. Believing it doesn't make it real. It just makes the person believing it delusional and missing out on the beauty of the truth of the world. So no, Mossad Chalk Lady, I won't simply believe. Go fuck yourself.

The New Titans #66 (May 1990)



Raven begins dating an asshole who sucks the life out of the people he fucks. The other team members don’t like him because he’s a fucking prick. Raven, of course, flips the fuck out because The New Titans is all about manufactured and cliché drama. It’s about as subtle as the CW’s Arrow.

On the plus side, Joey and Raven stop a bank robbery, so it’s not all about the Titans and their love life.

Oh! And Terry finally finished his fucking thesis! I mean, I’m sure Donna wrote most of it. But he signed his name to it and turned it in and now he’s a real professor! Maybe. It’s also possible he’s still just working in the bookstore and nobody is ever going to read his thesis and he’s never going to work in academia again and Donna will eventually realize she married a huge pervert and dump his ass.

Starfire #11


I find John Romita Jr's covers boring and I'm upset that my comic book store gave me so many of them.

The Review!
This comic book is like belly button lint. I can live with or without it. Sometimes it just sits there and I don't even care it's there and sometimes it provides me a moment's pleasure as I pick it out and give it a sniff. Some people might be more into belly button lint than I am, so they might appreciate this comic book more than me. It's not bad but it's the kind of comic book that winds up at the bottom of the stack each week because I'm not super interested in what happens.

The Commentary
In this issue, Starfire accidentally procreates with an overly sexually aggressive chipmunk-man whose species only lives for two days (which is why he's so insistent about getting his penis in something (I mean, getting the top of his head rubbed (if you get my meaning (actually, you don't have to 'get my meaning' because I meant it literally)))). That's the kind of wacky hi-jinks that take place in the monthly Starfire series. I should also mention, since it's cropped up in the zeitgeist again and since I'm one of the few reviewers I know of who constantly mentions it anyway, Sweaty Grabbyhandza...I mean, Eddie Berganza is the group editor of this comic book and he's almost certainly a serial sexual harasser. I wonder if somebody rubbed the top of his head, his back would explode with spawn and he'd keel over dead? Has anybody tried it?


Don't think of them as babies. Think of them as tomorrow's crop of sex offenders. And I mean "tomorrow" literally since these things will be dead by the day after tomorrow.

Starfire is worried that the life she's living and enjoying will one day be Rebooted and she'll lose it all. Ha ha! It will!

Starfire learns that she's a dangerous pest that is making life in Key West unsafe for everybody. At least that's what Stella tells her. Although Stella isn't wrong because the Teen Titans have a history of making things around them unsafe while never actually helping anybody ever. They're the worst.

Starfire decides to leave Key West for the safety of everybody living there. But then she decides to stay because Key West is having a ten day long party called Fantasy Fest. So her belief that leaving is the safest thing for everybody is only as strong as her desire to have a good time. It's good to know she still has the heart of a Titan.

Friday, April 22, 2016

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.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

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.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

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!