Yesterday I played at a quirky little bar in Camden (The Black Heart) for DJ Yasmin’s club night ‘Bad Intentions’. If you’re unfamliar with Bad Intentions, the formula is fairly simple:

1 socialite, Twitter celebrity & Eve’s Official tour DJ (Yasmin) +
3 awesome djs (Cable, B & Myself) +
Credible urban music policy +
00’s of up-for-it ravers +
Freeness =
Happy house party vibes.

The night is for grown up, quirky, trendy and musically open folk, who enjoy good vibes. It doubles up as an industry fest/nepotism-off which is always fun. In attendance last night were Skinnyman (less weed, more vitamins), Master Shortie (boy off the bum fluff), Bluey Robinson (“He’s The Greatest Dancer”) & half of the Crate Raiders, surely one of the world’s most talented dj collective.

It’s refreshing to play a night where there are no constraints on music policy, especially with B & Cable on top form. Anthemic gems from the night include:

Kanye West, 2 words
Common, Go
Nas, Nas Is Like
Professor Green, Stereotypical Man
Phaze One, Nicole’s Groove
So Solid Crew, Envy
Tempz, Nexy Hype
Wiley, What Do You Call It?

In summation, If you don’t know, get to know! Will definitely be returning to BI, both socially and musically! Well done to Yasmin & Happy Birthday girl.

Exhibit A:

What in the Hell is this thing?

I mean. It’s just.

I’m stunned. Fucking speechless.

This just might be the LAMEST cover of a comic book I have seen in my life. I just can’t even describe how awful I felt when I first looked on this monstrosity. Like Crap! That’s how I felt! Like fucking crap! This is a medium I take, or rather took, seriously for most of my life. This is an art form I grew up on and that shaped me into the nerd I am today. This is a character that I have spent countless nights reading after, following, sharing in the highs and lows. This is my nightmare.

Enter: The Flamingo!

What the Hell is wrong with your face?

For starters, all you need to know right now is that everything is wrong with Batman.  Bruce Wayne is dead.  Buried and Gone. In his place the original Robin and current Nightwing, Dick Grayson stepped in to preserve the Batman mythos. He knew that Batman could never “die.”

But Grayson is a poor substitute, and the current Robin, who is supposed to be Bruce Wayne’s flesh and blood child(!) is a complete jerk off. We also still have the Robin who was so universally disliked back in the 80’s, Jason Todd, that Bat fans voted TO KILL HIM.

So we have this “definitive” Batman stroy, sans Batman of course, following Dick Grayson and this kid fighting off even older throwback characters like the Red Hood (who originally appeared in motherfucking 1951) and these new henchemen who look like Wind in the Willows rejects.

Now you must be asking yourself, WTF? What’s the deal? Well, we can all thank Grant Morrison, the writer and ring leader in this freak show of a series. Morrison has been fucking with the dark knight proper ever since his seminal Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth graphic novel.

With that becoming a best seller and launching Morrison’s now prolific career, the creative mind in him keeps taking things in weirder and weirder directions. I already talked about him in my All Star Superman post, but here it just needs to be reinforced that this guy has a “do whatever the Hell you want ” pass at DC comics and he is fucking going for it.

But that brings me back to the Flamingo. Whips, tassles, pink jackets and all, this is one of the worst characters ever to pop up in a Batman comic. We’re talking 1960’s retro Adam West lunacy here. This overly colorful and flamboyant bore poses a threat to Batman, even a stand in?

I seriously could not stop gawking just at the cover. And then it hit me. Oh God. I have seen this man before. I know who this is supposed to be. It’s  so clear to me now! It’s him! It’s him!

Even down to the smoke in the background. The Flamingo is … Prince!?!?

This is why I can’t take comic books seriously anymore. Here’s the most telling thing. When Annie looked at the cover featuring the Flamingo, she immediately asked, “Is that Alfred?” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  It’s an embarrassment.

But Wait! There’s more.

Exhibit B:

Now, wait a minute. Just wait. Stop and look at this picture. I will explain.

That’s Bruce Wayne as a Cave Man.

He’s coming back, people. Bruce Wayne wasn’t dead at all! And that’s not even a spoiler because DC has been telling us this almost since Bruce bought it earlier this year.

In the move that proves NO ONE DIES IN COMIC BOOKS, Bruce Wayne is simply “Lost in the timestream.”

Please, DC could you expand on that nugget for just a sec?

“Blasted by the mysterious and powerful Omega Effect in the pages of FINAL CRISIS during a deadly battle with the malevolent New God Darkseid, Bruce Wayne must battle back through the waves of time to reclaim what was his – his city, his life…his cowl?”

His cowl? His cowl? Why is the cowl part a question? Is Dick Grayson seriously not going to give it back? Is Bruce really going to get back to his own time, fighting throughout history, to give up the cowl? Fuck are you talking about DC? You don’t really think we’re hanging on to every one of these little clues do you?

We know how these stories work. We’ve seen it. Superman died, remember? How did that go? He came back. Even Marvel knows this formula. They killed Captain America a few years back. Get how this worked. He died, his sidekick Bucky took over as Captain America for some time, and then Cap came back. It’s pretty played out by now guys.

And guess who’s helming this return of Wayne? Why, it’s Morrison, the man who brought us the Flamingo is also the man who will be giving us Cave Batman, and this guy!

That’s a pirate Batman. I know. I know.

Some of you might be thinking, wait, this is kinda cool. Batman as a pirate? I like it! I want to see this! Yea, this could work.

No people, this does not work. I will tell you why. The most bankrupt period in Batman’s history occurred in the late 50’s and 60’s where the character had gone from a dark crusader to a kid friendly stooge. The writers constantly had Batman turn into a number of mutations or characters. You may not know it, but there were issues featuring Bruce Wayne turned into a super smart baby, or a zebra, or a martian. This really happened.

And now, it’s happening again. Pirates and cave men are cooler than babies and zebras, but still. It kinda kills the mood for me. Bruce Wayne is a detective, a crusader, he’s not Bill and Ted’ excellent adventure. He’s not H. G. Wells. He’s not Jack fucking Sparrow over here!

I don’t really know how to end this ramble except to say I am really sad to see my Bats in such a state. Please stop destroying my Batman DC. Now when the dust settles and Bruce is back, I will start to pick up the book again. Until then, take your Flamingos and pirates and shove ‘em. I wash my hands of you.

-Charlie

]]> http://ratcreature.wordpress.com/2009/12/10/drawbles-2/ Thu, 10 Dec 2009 21:46:23 +0000 ratcreature http://ratcreature.wordpress.com/2009/12/10/drawbles-2/

Genre/Fandom: Drawble / DCU, Farscape, Marvel, SGA, Star Trek, Supernatural, original art
Characters/Pairings: Ellen Harvelle, Aeryn Sun, James T. Kirk, Spock, a tentacle monster, Richard Woolsey, John Sheppard, Evan Lorn, Superman, Batman, Robin, rats, a giraffe, Spider-Man, Captain America, an octopus, Matt Murdock
Media: pencil
Notes/comments: Drawbles I did based on prompts.

I fully admit, I probably use Google far too much.  I use Gmail, Google Docs, Google Reader, Google Wave, tons of their other apps with the Chrome browser.  And I will use Chrome OS once I get a chance to sit down and play with it.

With my bias firmly established I think that Google is definitely good about putting little pieces out there that appeal to the nerdy sector of the web.  For instance, Google puts modified logos up for days of interest all the time.  They’ve had a Google logo for Comic Con and even Popeye.  Now they’ve been making a series of advertisements with the catch phrase “Every Search Is A Quest. Every Quest Is A Story.”  Check out this one below, let us know who you think it is.

Thanks Google for showing us what Bruce Wayne is looking at!

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to discuss whether or not one of the most loved and respected superheroes, sucks. We, the Angry BLOWfish team, already know the outcome of this evaluation of strengths and weaknesses due to direct contact with the almighty Fishie Himself, but we wouldn’t want to spoil your pleasure of reading this fine piece of material. We hope you enjoy this piece and touch yourselves in bad places while reading it.

As everyone connected to a local TV station or comic book store knows, Batman is a DC comics character, with superhero aspirations, without actually having any superhuman powers.

Batman’s story starts with his parents being murdered while mugged in a backalley by a hungry/drunk/drug abusing bum(known later as Heath Ledger or the Joker). After witnessing his parents being shot more times than Fifty Cent, little Bruce Wayne a.k.a The Batman is being taken into parental custody by his old catholic priest(pedophile) lookalike butler Alfred, who seems to never age. Upon his parents’ death, little Brucie, inherits a shitload of money with which, instead of drinking, gambling, whore-mongering and using drugs for fun, he starts rearranging the old cave beneath the mansion, otherwise very common in Gotham city, and pays smart people to create gadgets for him. From now on Brucie becomes a half a man(because in the comics and animated series he never actually has sex with anyone) and goes downtown every night to fight crime and save kittens from certain boredom.

The whole idea of superheroes, besides selling superhero merchandise and collectibles, is to make kids wanting to be them and to give them ideals on which their personality will be based later on in life. Batman gives them a lot of things to look up to, making him a perfect role-model. The basic idea of Batman is that if you have a shit load of money, you can do whatever the fuck you want, which is partially true. Besides this, Batman never gets a date except maybe with Robin. Wonder Woman, the Greek half-goddess with perfect curves and really long legs who likes wearing skimpy outfits, hits on him repeatedly during the animated series, but the dude never even tries to bond(or engage in bondage intercourse) with her, playing hard to get(by women) and never actually getting near one. On the other hand he is always seen saving and cuddling Robin, the under-aged gay sidekick, with a dumb smirk on his face, the smirk being there due to some ass grabbing and a bit of thumb up the ass at that last swing from a building. Fishie has provided us with actual photos and paintings(ordered by Brucie himself) that prove that Batman is a raging homosexual.

Let’s talk a bit about super powers. Well, there’s not much to talk about, because Batman has none. What he has is spandex/leather overalls with a pair of Kalvin Clein underwear on top of the overalls, bind in place with a Bat-Utility-Belt with a lot of Bat-tools stashed in it(something like a carpenter’s belt without the cool hammer hanging about), a Bat-Cape, a Bat-Grappling-Hook, a few Bat- Smoke-Bombs, a Bat-Mobile, a Bat-Plane, a Bat-Cave, some Bat-Hemorrhoids and a bad Bat-Prostate. Indeed he has some cool gadgets but so does James Bond, but he didn’t apply for the Justice League, he just kept being cool and elegant in London killing people from afar, while having sex with hot , rich and married ladies.

As I emphasized above, everything in his life starts with Bat. Everything has to be Bat-Something, which makes him the most egocentric, self-involved, white-trash, douche-bag I know. He has everything, from Bat-Soup to Bat-Bedroom to Bat-Toilet Paper and Bat-Condoms(which he would never use with a lady, obviously). He even has a Bat-Spotlight which he donated to the police to call him whenever in need. What the fuck…what is the point of that ??? Wouldn’t a cell phone or a beeper be more practical? Anyway, returning to the super powers issue, Batman is so ordinary, that Mike Tyson would knock him out in, like, 15 seconds. He would get seven shades of shit kicked out of him even by a lame hero like Spiderman faster than he could say Bat-Pot-Pourry.

He lives in a giant useless mansion sumptuously decorated, with big gay flower pots, huge garden and a really old pedophile-looking butler, who apparently never ages or dies despite his confrontation with a handful of enemies of the Batman. According to our sources, Batman, Robin and Alfred(the butler), have really loud threesomes almost every evening before going to fight crime. They apparently didn’t hear, that sodomizing under-aged boys is actually a crime, even though the legal age of consent is 16 in some states.

The conclusion we, here at The Angry BLOWfish Headquarters, came to, is that Batman is a raging homosexual, sucks as a superhero and is a liability to the Justice League and DC Comics.

Batman, if you read this please find out that Fishie hates you, we hate you and you should be put to sleep like the half-breed dog you are. We hope that Robin screws around and you get AIDS from him besides the testicular cancer we hope you already have.

BASTARD!

And I Shall Shed My Light …

An Untold Tale of Bruce Wayne
By Chuck Miller
Special to the Comics Cave
MASSIVELY HUGE AND ENORMOUS THANKS
to Andrew “Captain Comics” Smith for running this the first time!!!

“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. ‘Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,’ he told me, ‘just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.’ ” — from The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Bruce Wayne believed in the green light …”

SCENE: NIGHT, a short ways outside of Gotham City. Wayne Manor. All is in shadows. There is one lighted window in an upper story, and in it, a young boy, his face a white blur: “DAD! LOOK! IT’S HIM!”

Now we are inside the room. Young Bruce Wayne is sitting up in bed, pointing at a small, green light in the sky. “IT’S HIM.” Thomas Wayne, standing beside his son’s bed, smiling indulgently. “HMMMM. NO, SON, I THINK THAT’S JUST AN AIRPLANE. SORRY.”

Bruce slumps back on the bed, smiling. “NO, I’LL BET IT WAS HIM. ON PATROL.” We see now that there are a number of small items of Green Lantern memorabilia in the room. An action figure stands crookedly on the night stand.

Bruce picks up the figure. ‘HE’S PROBABLY AFTER THE SHADE OR THE GAMBLER OR ONE OF THOSE GUYS.”

Thomas Wayne leans over to kiss his son goodnight. “YOU MAY BE RIGHT, BRUCE. GOOD NIGHT.”

Bruce, still holding the figure: “NIGHT, DAD.”

In Smallville, Kansas, a young boy about Bruce’s age sleeps and dreams a recurring dream of crystal spires beneath a hazy green sky.

In Memphis, Tennessee, a sick and dispirited King takes shaky aim at a television screen with a gleaming silver .44-caliber revolver and squeezes the trigger.

In Central City, a boy named Barry, up late in defiance of parental injunction, carefully places an inverted colander with paper wings taped to the sides on top of his head, in homage to his favorite hero.

In Washington, DC, the most powerful man in the world decides that it is time, once again, to tell the world that it won’t have him to kick around any more.

On the West Coast, a boy named Hal sees a green light in the sky and knows it is an airplane and dreams of the day he will fly one himself. Green Lantern never enters his mind.

In a middle-class suburb of Gotham City, a man named Joe finishes off a pint of inexpensive bourbon and tells himself that the thing he is planning to do will turn out okay, and then he will go straight forever after…

Thomas and Martha Wayne prepare for bed. Thomas is a large man, almost beefy, with incongruously slim and sensitive-looking hands. He is a wealthy man, and he wears light blue silk pajamas carefully laid out for him by his gentleman’s gentleman. His wife wears an elegant white nightgown, trimmed in expensive lace.

Thomas Wayne yawns and stretches and says to his wife, “Bruce thought he saw the Green Lantern tonight. It was an airplane landing light or something. He was as excited as I’ve ever seen him. I wish he’d show as much enthusiasm for his schoolwork.”

“He’s a boy, Thomas,” Martha tells him. She is not beautiful, but her face is good and strong and kind. “That’s what boys DO.”

“I know, I know … But I don’t want him thinking that flashy super-powers are the answer to life’s problems.” Wayne is a pragmatic man, a self-made doctor, a believer in self-reliance. He was born to wealth, lots of wealth, but never coasted on it. He put himself through med school and established a small practice in Metropolis, where he met his wife, before returning to Gotham and Wayne Manor.

“Oh, it’s a phase,” his wife tells him. “I’ll bet you went through the same thing. Unless that old Hourman costume Alfred found in the attic belonged to your sister.”

“I know that, too. I just don’t want Bruce growing up with wild ideas. Sure, I loved the Justice Society. Every kid did. But they disappeared. Copped out. They did some good, yes, but in the end they were unreliable. Everybody has to grow up sometime. You can’t go through life expecting Green Lantern or the Flash to come save the day.”

“Do you think it was ever really that simple? For THEM, I mean? They must have had their share of problems, and I’m sure they didn’t win ALL the time.”

“Maybe. But Bruce doesn’t see any of that. All he knows about Green Lantern is what he sees on that ridiculous television program.”

Thomas refers to The Adventures of Green Lantern, a show popular in the 1960s, known for its appalling special effects and even worse scripts. Produced locally by the Gotham Broadcasting Corporation, it starred a young Canadian actor named William Shatner, whose career never managed to crawl out from beneath the weight of his most famous role.

“Well, we’ve plenty of time. You’re a good Father, Thomas. You’ll guide him the right way. He’ll be fine as long as he has you — us.”

“Yes … Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He kisses his wife and they settle in for sleep.

Joseph Leslie Chileskewicsz, known as “Joey Chill” back in the day when he ran with the sad old remnants of Boss Moxie’s gang in Metropolis, a green and stupid kid among a bunch of aging, also-ran gangsters. Stupid Joey Chill, who did eight of a 20-year sentence on Stryker’s Island on a robbery conviction, who never ratted out the men behind him, who learned things in the joint he never wanted to know. When he got out he promised himself that was it, he’d go straight. And he did. He changed his name legally, shortened it to Chill, left Metropolis, moved to Gotham where he knew no one. He got a job and he got a wife and they had a kid but the kid died before it was a year old. It was a boy and they called him Joseph Leslie Chill, Jr., and they buried him in City Cemetery in the rain in a coffin no bigger than a shoebox. Now the wife was pregnant again. The doctor said the baby looked fine, everything would be okay. Then Joey lost his job. The company he was working for sold out and the buyer closed up the operation. Bills kept coming in, though. You can’t just go out and get a job like snapping your fingers when you got a record, especially when you did hard time.

When times are hard, you go back to what you know. Joe Chill talked to a guy who talked to a guy and he gave a hundred of his last $250 for a snub-nosed .32 with the numbers filed off and he would do this thing one last time, just to get enough to tide his little family over until he found someone who would hire him, and no one would be hurt by it.

SCENE: Thomas Wayne is seated in the comfortable private office of his old family friend, Alan Scott, owner of the Gotham Broadcasting Corporation. The two sit in comfortable plush chairs on either side of a small wooden table, sipping drinks.

WAYNE: I’ve been a little worried about the boy. I suppose it’s really nothing. He’s going through one of those “hero-worship” phases. All I hear is Green Lantern this and Green Lantern that.

SCOTT: You don’t say.

WAYNE: Yeah. I know I worry too much, but … All that was a long time ago. Those costumed heroes had their place, sure, and I’m not saying they didn’t do a lot of good. But they’re gone now. A man has to be able to rely on himself. I don’t want Bruce growing up thinking magic rings and super-powers are the answer to everything.

SCOTT: I suppose you’re right. In my day — prehistoric times, Thomas, when your father and I were boys — We idolized the old movie heroes. Tom Mix, Douglas Fairbanks …

WAYNE: I know. That’s normal. At least those guys were … well, HUMAN. They had to rely on their wits and their own strengths.

SCOTT (a little smile touching his lips): And the JSA weren’t human?

WAYNE: Well, who knows? That was the point, wasn’t it? We didn’t know anything about them, not really. And then they were gone! Anyhow, that’s not why I came today. I wanted to ask you for a little help. You’ve done so well with Gotham Broadcasting, you’ve diversified into other areas … I’d like a little financial advice, actually. I want to set up a foundation, something to help people, scholarships, grants, that sort of thing. I need some assistance with my capital. I invest, of course, and my accountants are good — but I’ve seen what you’ve done with GBC and your other projects in just the last 10 years. That’s the kind of return I want to see. Wayne Enterprises is doing well, and I want to put a portion of the profits into this foundation. Truth, Alan, I hope someday Bruce will take it over.

SCOTT: You aren’t jumping the gun? Bruce is eight years old, Thomas. You want to start mapping out his future already?

WAYNE: Of course not. But I want him to have something worthwhile to do, if he wants it. I wouldn’t dream of forcing him into it.

SCOTT: Oh, of course not.

WAYNE: I don’t like the way you said that. You think I’m –?

SCOTT: Thomas, I know you wouldn’t try to force your boy into anything. Just like your father didn’t try to FORCE you into real estate. But he wanted that for you and he let you know it. Even though he never stood in your way, you knew he was disappointed. He would have happily paid your way through medical school, but you would have known he’d rather be paying for something else. That’s why you did it yourself, isn’t it?

WAYNE: Hm. Alan, am I turning into my father?

SCOTT (laughs): No, but I think he is still very much with you. You want him to be proud of you. You miss him. I miss mine, too, and he’s been gone for more than 35 years now. Every boy wants to make his father proud of him. I hope mine is. You know, he hoped I would go into the ministry like him. But I wanted to be an engineer. And he let me know that I had done well, before he died. “Never be cruel, Alan.” I don’t know how many times he told me that. “Never hurt anyone on purpose, and try to do something good every day.” I don’t know that I’ve succeeded 100 percent, but I like to think … I like to think I’ve done some good. One thing I hope you will do, which your father didn’t quite succeed in doing for you is — whatever Bruce winds up doing with his life, I hope you’ll let him know it’s good enough.

WAYNE: Well, you’ve given me something to think about. And I promise you, I honestly will. But I still want to look into setting up and financing this foundation.

SCOTT: Oh, that’s an excellent idea. In fact, I have just the man for you. Name’s Lucius Fox. I’ll give him a call this afternoon.

WAYNE: That’s great!

SCOTT: No problem. Say, listen … about what we were discussing earlier? The old movie heroes? Well, you know, GBC recently bought the old Gotham Grand Movie Palace. We’re going to close it down at the end of the year, turn it into a television studio. But from now until December, we’re showing a double-feature every Saturday night. This week it’s Fairbanks in The Mark of Zorro. Why don’t you bring Martha and Bruce? On the house.

WAYNE: Hm. Yeah, we just might. The Mark of Zorro, huh? I remember that one … What’s the other one?

SCOTT: Beg pardon?

WAYNE: You said it was a double feature. What else is showing?

SCOTT: Oh… One of Bela Lugosi’s old B-pictures. I think it’s called The Bat or something. I wanted to get Dracula, but we couldn’t find a decent print.

Gotham City, Park Row, night. Joe chill huddles in the doorway of a small tea shop. He is on a side street around the corner from the Gotham Grand Theater. He has his eye on a silver Rolls Royce parked in front of the tea shop. Checks his watch. The movie lets out in five minutes. Just wait. It will turn out fine. He fingers the gun in his pocket. He won’t have to use it, other than for show, but it is loaded just the same. There’s absolutely no sense carrying an unloaded gun. A lesson from his misspent youth.

The Waynes exit the theater. It is a nice, warm summer evening. They decide to cut back through the alley to where the Rolls is parked on a side street.

“So, what did you think of Zorro, son?”

“Oh, he was OKAY … But he was kinda boring, you know? I mean, all’s he has is that sword. It’s not as good as a power ring. And that black costume! You can’t hardly even SEE him. I still like Green Lantern better.”

Thomas Wayne sighs. He is about to speak when a figure steps out of the shadows, brandishing a pistol.

“Okay,” says the man. “This is a stickup. I’ll take that necklace you’re wearing, lady.”

Thomas steps forward. “Leave my wife alone, you –Wait? Why, is that … Joe? Yes, by God, that’s you. It’s me, Doctor Wayne. You remember me, don’t you?” Doctor Wayne prides himself on his formidable memory for faces. Tonight, it will cost him.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Of all the people to run into. This guy was an assistant to the prison doc at Stryker’s for two months. Helped fix young Joey up when he got a little … damaged one time.

“Why, man, you don’t have to resort to this! Here, let me …” He reaches into his jacket, a gesture that hits Joe Chill in the viscera. For a moment, thought suspends itself and something like instinct takes over.

Joe’s first shot clips the upper edge of Thomas Wayne’s left eye socket, the impact pulping the eyeball, then takes a downward trajectory through his brain and exits through the back of his neck. His hand, clutching a billfold, not a pistol, jerks out of his jacket as he falls. Martha, meanwhile, has lunged at Joe, arms outstretched. He crouches down quickly, moves the hot muzzle her way and squeezes the trigger again. The bullet punches its way between two ribs, tears a hole in the side of her heart, goes through a lung, and leaves her body below her left armpit. Thomas has hit the ground by now, dead already though his heart will beat a dozen more times, pumping blood out through the hole in the back of his neck. And Martha goes to her knees, lung filling with blood, blood spurting from her mouth and nose as she tries to say something. This all takes less than three seconds, and it is done before the two surviving human beings in the alley fully realize what has happened. Martha tumbles onto her back, eyes gone cold, her head only a foot from her husband’s, and lies still. The echoes of the shots and the smell of cordite fill the ears and nostrils of the man and the boy and their vision is identically blurred by afterimages of the muzzle flashes.

Bruce has watched the whole thing, unable to move, unaware for the moment that he has a body that can be moved. He looks up at the gunman. Fear all over the man’s face. Bruce is afraid, too, but there is something else, something being born, and it scares the gunman.

“Stop … Stop looking at me like that, kid.” He considers, for less than a second, shooting the kid. The only witness left. But he can’t do it. Joe, Jr. … He can’t do it. he turns and runs.

SCENE: NIGHT, a dark alley, seen from above. A young boy stands staring at the ground, the bodies of his mother and father on either side of him.

Suddenly, Bruce sees a green glow from around the corner of the alley. Thinks it’s his hero come to save the day. He shouts for help as the mugger runs off. Bruce runs toward the green light. “GREEN LANTERN! HELP! YOU GOT TO HELP MY FOLKS!”

Before he reaches the end of the alley, the green light turns red. Stunned, he steps out into the street and stares at the traffic signal. He face goes from anguish and surprise to anger and finally to dead, cold calm.

Green Lantern drops from the sky, ring glowing green, to land silently in the dark alley. He hears and sees the yellow police tape flapping in the wind, sees the chalk outlines of his two friends. When he read about the Waynes’ murder in the paper this morning, he took the Ring from his office safe, and for the first time in six months, touched it to the Power Battery and recited his oath:

“… And I shall shed my light over dark evil, “For the dark things cannot stand the light, “The light of the Green Lantern!”

Now, in the alley, he sets his jaw and orders his ring to show him what happened the night before.

Alan Scott is unaware of the exact mechanism by which the ring does this. Long ago, he stopped wondering about such things and learned to accept. In fact, it the ring emits a small storm of tachyons, subatomic particles that move backward through time. They envelop him and the patch of ground he stands on, bending time, allowing him to view the past.

He witnesses the shooting in fuzzy, shadow form, like a bad TV broadcast. Sees the mugger run. Follows him. Watches the man make his way to the suburbs, where he takes the gun into a garage behind a small house and smashes it to fragments with a sledge hammer. The Green Lantern, a ghost moving in this gray changeless world of the past, notes the man’s address.
Fully in the present again, he prepares to pay a visit.

Joe Chill’s little suburban cottage. A dark figure with green fire on its hand drops from the sky and lights on the street in front, walks around to the kitchen door. Joe is seated at the table, drinking bourbon from a pint bottle.

The Green Lantern tells his ring to open the door, and not to be gentle about it.

The green fire lashes out at the door, bounces away harmlessly.

Of course. The door is wooden. His ring doesn’t work against anything made of wood. He doesn’t know why. Green Lantern steps forward and opens it himself, with his foot. Chill turns his head.

“You,” says Alan Scott, the Green Lantern, his voice as cold as the cold green fire on his finger, “You killed them.”

Chill stands up, knocking the kitchen chair over. “I — No, I didn’t — I …”

“Yes,” says the Green Lantern, stalking slowly toward the frightened man. “I know. I know.” He holds up his hand, the ring’s terrible power throbbing there. “THIS told me. It never lies. You can’t lie.”

Chill is perspiring freely. His eyes are wide and moist. “I didn’t — I didn’t MEAN to…. I only wanted to …”

The Green Lantern grabs Joe Chill by his shirtfront, popping off a button. “I don’t care what you meant or what you wanted. You killed two people.”

Chill finds a small spark of defiance somewhere in his soul. “You — You can’t PROVE anything. The gun was cold, and it’s gone now. It doesn’t exist any more. No one saw me but the kid and he’s just a kid. You got nothing to take to the cops.”

The Green Lantern laughs and Joe Chill almost empties his bladder. “Cops? No, no cops,” he says in a conversational tone. “Just me and you.” He tightens his grip on the shirt, raises his other hand, his ring hand, to Chill’s eyes. “And this.” The little kitchen is painted green with the light.

“I can do anything I want to,” he continues, releasing his hold on Chill’s shirt. “But first, I’ll show you how I did it in the old days, before I learned what this ring could really do.”

The Green Lantern hits Joe Chill in the face. Only moderately hard to begin with, but enough to knock him off his feet.

“Get up,” says the Lantern. Chill does, slowly, blood and small fragments of broken tooth dripping onto the linoleum from his puffed-out lower lip. The Lantern hits him again, a bit harder this time, blood splatters in an arc over the floor and table. The rest of the broken tooth goes. Chill goes down again.

“Get UP!” says the Green Lantern, hauling Chill to his feet once again. He holds the man by the shoulders, stares into his eyes. “Now, you son of a bitch, you’re going to tell me WHY. WHY did you shoot them?”

Chill’s jaw moves, he spits blood onto the floor between the Lantern’s feet.

“Got scared. Th’ guy, he KNEW me, knew my name. Seen him in Metropolis, YEARS ago. Lost m’ head, pulled th’ damn trigger. Goddammit, I wish I didn’t do it!”

“That doesn’t answer my question. WHY?”

“MONEY, goddammit,” Chill says through terribly swollen lips. “The hell you THINK? Wife’s havin’ a kid, and I lost m’ damn JOB!”

“Lost your JOB!” grits the Lantern. “That’s your excuse? You lost your JOB?”

“YES!” screams Chill, defiant again, “I lost m’ JOB! What does that mean to YOU? Guy with a damn magic ring. Drove a truck f’r five damn YEARS f’r Ajax an’ I lost my JOB ’cause the company sold out and nobody’ll hire me.”

“Truck …” The Green Lantern loosens his grip on Chill’s shoulders, allows him to stand by himself. “Who … bought the company?” Silence. “TELL me! WHO bought out the company?”

Chill wipes blood from his face with the back of a hand. “Goddamn outfit called Kinestra Investments. Bought Ajax then turned around and closed up, gonna sell the trucks an’ th’ warehouse to someone else.”

Now the Green Lantern is silent. Alan Scott is silent, and he can hear his own heart beating in his chest, beneath the red shirt he wears, the red shirt that won’t show the blood of Joe Chill spattered on it.

Kinestra Investments. A wholly owned subsidiary of the Gotham Broadcasting Corporation.

“No,” says Alan Scott, eyes narrowing behind his purple mask, “NO, this isn’t MY fault, you can’t turn it around on ME like this.”

Joe Chill, squinting into the angry face, puzzled. “Th’ hell you TALKING about?”

Alan Scott grabs Joe’s shirtfront again, pulls him close. “You’re SCUM. You’re GARBAGE. Killing people — ” The ring flares, illuminating the little kitchen. “I’m going to …”

From the kitchen doorway, a woman’s voice, frightened but strong. “Joe? Honey? What — ?”

POV: We are peeking over BARBARA CHILL’S shoulder, looking at the scene in the kitchen, seeing what she sees. Her husband in the grip of a fiend. Green light, green fire. A terrible thing clutching at Joe’s chest, killing him. She SCREAMS, takes a step forward.

In this moment, the ring does something its wearer has not willed it do to — it takes from Barbara Chill’s mind the image of him as she sees him now and shows it to him: a cold, arrogant monster, as terrible and bloody-minded as Solomon Grundy, the Shade or Per Degaton ever were.

Still reeling from what he has just seen, Green Lantern turns his head just in time to see a short and very pregnant young woman slip on a little puddle of blood, lose her footing and land hard on her buttocks. She flops over onto her back, head striking the floor, crying like a small child.

Scott releases her husband and sprints over to Barbara’s side, using his ring to check her vital signs and those of her baby.

“You’re okay,” he tells her, “and your baby’s fine, too. But you should still …”

“GET OUT!” The ring is supposed to automatically protect him from harm, but Barbara Chill’s small white hand catches him hard across the jaw, almost knocking him over.

“Ma’am,” he says, righting himself, “I don’t …You — “

“JOE! CALL THE POLICE! GET THIS THING OUT OF OUR HOUSE!!!”

“Please, ma’am, I can help you. I can …”

Joe Chill’s hand on his shoulder. He speaks softly to his recent tormentor. “Please, man,” he says. “Just go now. I’ll take care of her. You can come back later, do whatever you want. You can take me to the cops or … whatever. I won’t run and I won’t fight you. But let me take care of my wife. PLEASE.”

The Green Lantern just nods dumbly and takes his leave.

Joe Chill will spend every day of the rest of his life wondering if today is the day the Green Lantern will come back for him.

In spite of the summer heat, young Bruce Wayne has built a large fire in the main drawing room at Wayne Manor. He is now master of this house, and may do as he wishes. The smell of burning plastic fills the room as the boy, still dressed in the suit he wore to his parents’ funeral, feeds his toys to the fire. Green Lantern burns in effigy time and again.

“My word!” exclaims Alfred, rushing into the room. “Whatever are you doing, Master Bruce?”

“Getting rid of some things I don’t need,” the boy says blandly.

Alfred wrings his hands, afraid for the boy’s sanity.

Alan Scott’s ringless fingers, working quickly, solder shut the small metal container. Later on today, he will take it to his bank and place it in his safe deposit box, until … Well, just until.

For the time being, at least, he intends to stop playing with fire. He needs to keep a closer eye on what his companies are doing. It’s the only proper role for a man of his age.

And he has still other concerns. He has learned that Thomas Wayne, in a very recent codicil to his will, has made Alan Scott one of the administrators in charge of his estate. Plans for the Wayne Foundation will proceed.

He stands up from behind his desk, walks to the ornate fireplace on one wall, and, in spite of the summer heat, builds a fire. Once it is sufficient to the task, he feeds it from a brown grocery bag. A red shirt, a purple cape, green leotards, a purple mask.
His secretary, drawn by the aroma of burning cloth, enters.

“Mister Scott! What — What are you doing?”

“Getting rid of some things I don’t need,” the man says blandly. “That will be all, Miss Needham.”

“Yes sir …”

“Is this really, ABSOLUTELY necessary, sir?”

Bruce Wayne pulls the cowl over his head. When he speaks his voice is hard and cold. His true voice, Alfred realizes with a shudder. The voice, the persona of Bruce Wayne are the disguise, not this hideous mask. “Yes,” he says shortly.

“There must be something else, sir,” Alfred Pennyworth implores. “This is … It is madness, sir. There, I’ve said it. Your father, your mother, they don’t blame you for what happened. No one does except for yourself, sir.”

“This isn’t about blame, Alfred. This is about keeping other people safe. This is the best thing I know to do.”

Alfred shakes his head. “Your father would not want this for you, sir. Bruce. Please.”

“I’m sorry, Alfred. Thank you for your concern.” Pulling on the black gauntlets. “I don’t know what my father would want. Whatever I do … Whatever I do, it will never be good enough.”

Alfred sighs. “Thomas Wayne died many years ago, sir. And, forgive me for saying it, I sometimes feel that BRUCE Wayne did so that night as well.”

A moment of silence from the inhuman figure. Then he — IT turns to regard its factotum with blank eyes.

“No, Alfred,” says the Bat slowly, “that was the night I was born.”

“That,” says Alfred without flinching, “is precisely what I mean, sir.”

The Bat may or may not nod slightly before it gets into the absurd, supercharged automobile and tears out of the underground cave. Alfred turns and ascends the steps to Wayne Manor.

“He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him, somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night.
“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther. … and one fine morning — So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” — from The Great Gatsby

You are not selling him on the gay thing, Batman. Give it some jazz hands!

Devo ammettere subito che Grant Morrison  forse è il mio autore di fumetti preferito, e devo anche subito dire che io adoro il Batman, probabilmente è il mio eroe preferito e uno dei punti fermi della mia infanzia, più del calcetto e dei panini. Era destino che i due si incontrassero prima o poi.

Diciamolo chiaramente:”Batman RIP” è bellissimo.

Non intendo fugari i vostri dubbi: “  Ma quel RIP? Ma Batman muore sul serio?“
Sarà qualcosa di peggiore della morte. Lo dirà il Joker in persona:

“Il funerale della tua anima”.  Batman affronterà, forse, la sua più grande sfida.  La domanda non è più “Chi è e perché lo è diventato?” , ma “Chi è? e perché continua ad esserlo?“.

E se l’evento principale della vita di Bruce Wayne non fosse così chiaro come ci è sempre stato raccontato? Se dovessimo mettere tutto in discussione? Se dovessimo prendere in considerazione davvero i 70anni di continuity di Batman, avventure Sci-fi comprese, se davvero l’uomo pipistrello nell’arco dei 15anni della sua “missione” personale avesse vissuto tutte quelle avventure senza far finta che non siano mai avvenute? Batman dovrà essere più forte del suo passato, del suo presente e del suo futuro.

Morrison fa un lavoro sopraffino recuperando vecchi miti e dandogli una nuova forma smagliante, ma coerente con quella passata, e deliziando i lettori, che siano veri segugi della continuity, semplici appassionati o alle prime armi.
Non mancheranno i colpi di scena, le atmosfere allucinate/allucinanti ed esplosive tipiche dell’autore scozzese.
Si aggiungeranno nuovi tasselli al mosaico delle avventure del crociato incappucciato:
Cosa è il Thogal?
Chi o Cosa c’è dietro il Guanto Nero?
Come sarebbe Gotham se non ci fosse mai stato un Batman?
Cosa sarà di Gotham dopo Batman RIP?
Cosa farà la “famiglia” di Batman? Robin, Nightwing ed il giovane Damian?

Le matite di Tony Daniel fanno il loro dovere,  anche se non approvo il suo Joker, decisamente troppo splatter e “”"moderno”"”.

Bellissime le copertine di Alex Ross. Ma che ve lo dico a fare?

Una storia con Bat-Mite, due statue di Gargoyles che parlano e elicotteri che esplodono. Oh, cosa volete di più?

Zur – En- Arrh!

Between all of the different batman films, comic books and other dark knight media, figuring out how dark knight came to be is a challenging task.. The Dark Knight has so many spinoffs that finding out the full detailed history is something only the original writers might know. If all you need are the basics behind the rise of The Dark Knight, it becomes a little easier task.

When Bruce Wayne was a young boy, his life would take a very sharp turn after his family left a show in Gotham City. While coming home from a cinema, the Wayne family found itself in the worst part of Gothem city, an area known as crime alley. Here is where Bruces direction in life would change. In this Crime alley, Bruce’s family would be mugged and right in front of his very eyes, by an unkown thief. The mugger shot batmans parents right in front of him and left the child weeping at the scene of the crime. Bruces family butler, Alfred became a father figure and did his best to help the you wayne become the man he eventually was.

Bruce vowed to avenge the death of his parents, and left his home at a very young age to seek knowledge that would help him accomplish this. He traveled to every place he could learning skills and martial arts from every corner of the globe. He studied everything from fighting styles to forensics in an effort to make him the ultimate revenge driven detective. After his journey Wayne didn’t waste any time with his need for revenge. In the beginning he had no disquise or special tools. Because of his rush into the streets he was almost killed by the ones he was trying to help. Batman needed something else, He needed to instill fear onto his enemies but wasn’t sure how to do this. This is why he decided to become a creature of the night. The fear of the bat would be able to give him the advantage he needed. This is how the Batman came to be.

Bruce went to work immediately. Bruce started building his batcave. Alfred, being the only one who knew of all of this helped out with guidance. Alfred helped Bruce through his injuries and his mental meltdowns, much like a doctor and psychologist. The Batman began to bring fear into the criminals of Gotham City and a new and better Gothem city was on its way. Batman sought help from only the most trusted people. Police Commisioner Gordan Became one of Bruces allies as the police force had become to dirty for the bat to work with and Gordan was the only one he believed not to have fallen into the dirty cop era. Together they were set to rid Gothams Streets of crime. And batman has become the heroe you all know today.

Batwoman by Greg Rucka (writer), J.H. Williams (artist), Dave Stewart (colors) , The Question by Greg Rucka (writer), Cully Hamner (artist), Dave McCraig (colors)

The Story: First, Rucka told us the Batwoman arc with her lunatic sister and the crazy religious nuts in Gotham. Then, Rucka set the last issue in Kate Kane’s childhood. Now he fastforwards to Kate being forced out of Westpoint because she’s gay. We follow her drifting after that, until she has a moment of clarity. Rucka also gives us a backup story starring the Question, who is still on the track of an international smuggling cartel. It’s bigger than she can handle on her own, so she calls in some help.

What’s Good: Greg Rucka is writing some really smart comics. There is a whole world of untapped stories with a gay character like Kate Kane and he’s digging to get the best ones. Kate’s personality is very strong and her focus is laser-like. Rucka has given her the integrity, professionalism and obsessiveness of a Bruce Wayne or a Dick Grayson. This makes her a very strong addition to the Bat-family. But, like the best writers, Rucka knows that it’s not enough just to show what she’s got. Rucka tests her, by putting up the two most defining characteristics, her sexuality and her ambition, and putting them in direct, irreconcilable conflict. Her response is what makes her a hero. The Question story was equally smart, but less of a character-builder than out-and-out detective crime-fighting adventure and so was a lot of fun.

Williams has adopted a gritty style and a starkness to his panel interiors for the scenes set in the past that do a great job of telling Rucka’s story. The facial expressions, although rough and scratchy, communicate a wealth of emotional pain and conflict (check out the scene with Kate speaking with her colonel). The art set in the present (the meeting of the religious nuts) is much more realistic and richly textured. I checked the credits to see if the inkers had changed for those two different settings because the art is so different, but it appears that Williams can manage the two different styles at the same time. Pretty impressive. The color work in the past settings is subdued, but you really get to see what Stewart can do with the scenes in the present.

What’s Not So Good: Not enough of either story. Give me more!

Conclusion: Rucka has put Detective on my pull list. If Detective, Batman and Robin, Batgirl, Red Robin and Batman are what happens when Bruce Wayne is taken out of the picture, I hope Bruce never comes back. The Bat-family of titles is fast becoming a must-read for smart readers.

Grade: A

-DS Arsenault

Let me tell you about my favourite quote from Batman Begins the movie. Bruce Wayne one said:

Can’t you see the magic of those words? That’s what a brave man*(1) would say. That we act something. We do something, start from what we thoughts. What we want. We can not just mumbling inside but do nothing real to get what we want. Or we just keep the thougths to ourself.

If we see something that we think not good happens, we have change it. To fix it to be good. If we don’t have the power to do it, then ask other’s help to get it done. It’s not the matter who solve the problem at the end, the most important thing is who took the act to strated it. Once again, only a brave a man can do it. Those who doesn’t have the guts to do so, would only keep for themselves. They would say “As long as I’m not the person who do the bad thing, then it’s fine for me.”

You can really see the difference between those two two state, can’t you?

The faint heart would say “I want this. This is what I want. I need it to be done. How could I not achieve what I want? BlaBlaBla…”. They would only keep questioning the things that happens to them, without do some act to get what they want. If they want freedom, break the cage that covers them. They can’t just wait for someone to give them the freedom. If they want to be rich, do something (legally please) to get them as much money as they want. If they want to get to Paris, hell….as easy as one. Simply buy the ticket to go there. What about the money to buy the ticket? It’s another condition that should been solved. It’s all a matter of act, nothing else.

While the brave one would say “I want this, okey I’ll do that. No matter what happens, no matter what the result is, I’ll do it. Because it’s my responsibility to realizing what I want.” These kind of people, when they want their freedom, they’ll break the edge no matter how hard it is. If they want to be rich, they’ll work hard the earn lot and more money. If they want to go to Paris but have no money, they simply search and find the money to go there.

This lady is something precious to us. Our treasures. That we really want to get in our life. Dare ourself to do something. We might be succesful, we might lose it. In the end, the result is not really important. The more valuable thing is the process of making what we want happens. Of doing something. Because we’ll get nothing if we done nothing. Even if we do really failed, at least we’ve tried.

You go there!

-nafariza

*(1) man: I’m not a sexist person. Man here is not male (literally man the gender), but mankind of human being.

Oh, my god. Now is not the time to lie about your weight, Vicki Vale.

Photographed for Esquire magazine April 2004 by [searching for credit]

“I think mystery is kind of great. I don’t know anything about Bette Davis or Katharine Hepburn or Ava Gardner — not really — and I like that. I love watching their movies because they’re my personal movie stars. I don’t know what they eat and who their trainer is.”

No clue where this came from; sometimes I just right-click and save things and make no effort to credit them. Super-sorry!

“Most of the time we do nothing, myself included, … I think the lesson I learned from [playing humanitarian Tessa in The Constant Gardner] is that a lot of drops make up an ocean. If people would stand up and say what they believe in maybe we can make a difference. Helping one person is better than nothing. Just do something.”

Still from The Shape of Things

“There’s not much room for eccentricity in Hollywood, and eccentricity is what’s sexy in people.”

I have heard rumors she is one of the actresses who has been approached to play Catwoman in the next Batman movie, but I’ve also heard Chris Nolan quoted saying that Catwoman isn’t going to be in it. It doesn’t matter, because that would be lame anyways. She should not be Catwoman, regardless of whether Selina Kyle pops up in the next movie (a direction which would actually disappoint me).

What Rachel Weisz should do in the new Batman movies is play Talia, the daughter of Rā’s al Ghūl and love of Bruce Wayne’s life. Helloooo, she would be perfect! Talia seriously needs to once and for all get in the mainstream big screen storylines, especially considering how great the new movies Chris Nolan’s been making are: in the comics she even has Batman’s kid, for god’s sake (Damian Wayne, who is the current Robin). It’s already been set up, when, in the novelized Batman Begins, Rā’s al Ghūl refers to having a wife and daughter while he is talking to Bruce.

So, come on. Let’s finally get her in a movie, and let’s have Rachel Weisz play her. The woman is a stranger to neither action pictures (The Mummy franchise) nor comic book movies (the wildly underrated Constantine). That’s my awesome suggestion: obey!

Dick Clark: (opening apartment window as Batman and Robin climb past) Hey! Who’re you?
Robin: He must be new in Gotham City.
Batman: He’s from Philadelphia.
Dick Clark: How did you know?
Batman: You dipped your dipthong. People from Philidelphia are known for that.

Robin: We’re Batman and Robin. The crimefighters!
Dick Clark: Oh. Are you a vocal group?
Robin: What?!
Dick Clark: I thought perhaps you might be a singing duo.
–”Batman”, Season 2, Episode 1: “Shoot A Crooked Arrow.” (Original air date September 7, 1966.)

Nell’annuncio ufficiale, la Mattel giustifica le nuove scelte a proposito della serie Movie Masters di “The Dark Knight” dicendo che sono dettate da vendite particolarmente soddisfacenti. Difficile crederci. Basti pensare che la prima delle action figures uscita in esclusiva sul sito Mattycollector.com cioè Joker versione rapina in banca (Joker as Gotham City thug, foto a sinistra) oggi, a più di un mese dal lancio, è ancora disponibile e non sold out (i personaggi di altre serie, come ad esempio i MOTU Classics di He-Man & company, vanno sold out in pochi giorni, spesso anche in un solo giorno)! Le notizie sono due:

- le prossime action figures saranno vendute a 15 dollari e non a 20 dollari;

- a partire dalla primavera 2010 le action figures, una volta uscite su Mattycollector.com, saranno disponibili anche nei negozi americani della catena Toys “R” Us!

Perciò, Joker versione rapina in banca rimarrà l’unica esclusiva di Matty. Il fatto che le action figures avranno un mercato alternativo al sito Mattycollector.com rende auspicabile e molto possibile un calo dei prezzi e un fiorire delle occasioni su ebay. Le action figures usciranno su Mattycollector con cadenza mensile a partire dal 15 Dicembre. Ecco il calendario (suscettibile di modificazioni):

- 15 Dicembre: Survival Suit Bruce Wayne
- 15 Gennaio: Harvey Dent
- 15 Febbraio: The Joker with Missile Launcher
- 15 Marzo: Scarecrow
- April 15: Batman (Night Vision)
- 17 Maggio: Two-Face

[Fonte ToyNewsInternational]

The cat and the spoon

What was wrong with the man?, thought Alfred to himself.  There was that nice woman with the little ears, who was throwing herself at him, but he didn’t even seem to notice her.  But Alfred noticed her.  If that cat suit were any tighter he’d have to polish more than the cutlery to keep his mind on the job.

by Christopher Yost (writer), Marcus To (pencils), Ray McCarthy (inks), Guy Major (colors)

The Story: Council of Spiders, Part II: Yost keeps us jumping in space and time, showing us Red Robin’s operational leadership of the League of Assassins, more of the international past of Vitoria and the present of Vicki Vale in Gotham. Red Robin is playing a pretty dangerous game by discovering all he can of the League of Assassins for his later use, by searching for traitors in the League and by setting traps for the Council of Spiders. In the background is his search for Bruce Wayne.

What’s Good: Red Robin the series continues to feel like a summer blockbuster and this issue keeps up the pace and fills in the gaps in the story. The tension is palpable as the plot threads converge. I’m glad my faith in Yost paid off and he explained more of Vitoria in this issue. I also can’t stop watching Tim take on the League and the Council by himself. It’s a dizzying high-wire act, making this one of my favorite books in my pull stack.

The art, shading and color are all well done. The characters are all cleanly shown and well proportioned. The layouts keep up with Yost’s frenetic scene switching and all of the action sequences. To give you a feel of what the art team pulls off, they bring Yost’s story to life as it jumps from philandering wives, killer ninjas, international assassins, monsters, gunfire, and dizzying rescues to a final confrontation with the villain.

What’s Not So Good: Neither a toxic Brazilian babe nor spiders crawling over my eyeballs could get a complaint out of me this month. (Check out the book if you want to see those things)

Conclusion: Red Robin is pulling ahead of the competition and it is now the first thing I read. Tim has a mystery quest on his hands and has only his wits to save him from the danger besetting him on all sides. Check it out!

Grade: A-

-DS Arsenault

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I love it when people listen to me. It just makes things so much faster.

But it’s even better when people don’t, because then I get to do this:

This is Teddy. Teddy didn’t bring me a banana that didn’t have brown spots on it.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA