Thrill as they sit around and bicker with confusing dialogue!

Just want to apologize first about not posting in three weeks – I admit I don’t have a set schedule on these, but when I first tried to write it, I really wasn’t feeling the funny with it. I needed time both for my personal life and just to get motivated to make fun of this.

What is it about the word “blood” that suddenly makes it seem “EXTREEEEEME!”?

Back in 1993, an intracompany crossover for DC called “Bloodlines” occurred. The idea was that a group of shapeshifting alien parasites came to Earth to feast off the spinal fluids of humans. However, in some humans it awakened the Metahuman gene, turning them into superheroes. The event was used as an excuse to start off a few new titles as well as give some “new blood” to the DC universe, hence why the new heroes were called New Bloods. The event ran through all of the Annuals at the time before culminating in a two-part finale.

I admit, I’ve never actually read any of the Annuals or parts of the crossover, but even for comic book science that excuse to give a bunch of people superpowers seems sketchy at best. Still, I suppose it fulfilled its purpose, but for DC, sadly, the only lasting effect the crossover had was the ongoing series Hitman, which lasted for about sixty issues. The other New Bloods haven’t appeared in very many titles, with some appearing in a recent JSA Classified and most of them being killed off in the Infinite Crisis event. I admit, I’m not shedding any tears for them, but as a proponent of the idea of every character being someone’s favorite, I always find it sad to see heroes getting discarded as nothing but cheap cannon fodder.

Still, they are quite worthy of ridicule, as we’ll see here.

The cover is just claustrophobic. The “blood pack” title is not capitalized and its color scheme matches most of the rest of the cover, so it’s barely noticeable. Furthermore, instead of having the standard team shot that would’ve been just fine, the normal shot is cramped down to the middle of the cover and showing monitors all around it featuring guys with Liefeld-like proportions and bizarre orange armor. The bottom screen features an odd image of the character Jade and two others whom I can only presume to be Charles Xavier and Quicksilver. Man, they’d shill out a Marvel/DC crossover for anything, wouldn’t they?

We start off with a scene of one of the titular New Bloods getting his organs sliced up by a purple alien with a cow skull head and orange butterfly wings. Well, that was a long issue! Let’s get- oh, wait – it’s not done yet. Figures. “They were a new breed of heroes– empowered by band of feasting alien parasites. These New Bloods sent the aliens packing. But not this time.” This time it’ll be DC’s normal stable of heroes that does it. On the next page, the purple alien stands over the dead body of who we later learn is appropriately named Mongrel and talks to himself: “The revenge is sssweet… Yesss… And complete…” Apparently they hired the Beast Wars Megatron to play the part of the alien (well, they do have a similar color scheme)…

A caption box in purple informs us that “–here comes Loria. Get the whole steel morphing bit.” And, of course, the woman named Loria does come down and her skin transforms into steel. Colossus- erm, I mean Loria, charges at the alien as the caption box says nonchalantly, “Cool. We can’t buy effects like that.” Well, actually in 1995 you could buy effects like that and given the fact that metahumans actors wouldn’t be uncommon with so many- oh, wait, this is a badly written comic book. My mistake. Anyway, Loria gets her arms around the alien’s huge neck and somehow manages to snap it. How do we know it’s snapped? It makes a “sknch” sound while the neck and head remain perfectly straight-forward. Also, the thing seems to have chocolate milk for blood, since all the blood that comes from this thing is brown.

“Bra-vo(sic)” comes a voice from off-panel. We suddenly switch to a non-descript room where we see the two members of Blood Pack along with a third, the confusingly-attired Ballistic all wearing weird-looking visors and wires attached to various parts of their bodies. So it seems that entire thing was a virtual reality simulation. Yeah, you can’t buy effects like that! Before I return to the crappy dialogue, let’s just comment on Ballistic here. Ballistic is apparently a Korean-American according to Wikipedia who is an “armed and dangerous vigilante.” So, what, did the alien bite grant him the power to buy guns and choose ridiculous costumes? It’s an all-red ensemble with a head mask that opens up for his hair and face (which is also red, by the way). On his torso he has various grenades, pouches, and pointy multi-layered shoulder pads (on only one shoulder. EXTREME!). Honestly, I might as well just start calling him Shaft (Shut your mouth!).

Not-Shaft berates Loria: “You killed it but it killed us — thanks to your showboating.” What showboating? She just leapt down from somewhere and hugged the damn thing! Seriously, is this a prerequisite for any team book – one member must be yelled at by the leader, be it for legitimate reasons or not? Loria tries to defend her attempt at hugging the creature who killed her loser teammates: “My objective was to…” But Ballistic interrupts her: “…Cover your teammates, Loria!!” And yet she was the one who managed to subdue the big monster. So the one who actually managed to beat it in ten seconds flat gets reduced to “covering duty” while you and Alice Cooper over there get your entrails spilled across the floor. Good job, Patton.

Something else of notice is the fact that there are round, golden cameras floating around recording everything. Yes, it seems that this is a superhero reality show, in a similar vein as volume III of New Warriors. Would anyone be surprised if these guys accidentally started a superhero civil war? Anyway, Loria says she’ll take his orders under advisement and walks off. Ballistic laughs it off and says he’s got her “eating out of my hand. Only took six weeks.” Mongrel, the erstwhile long-haired guy is not impressed by his attempts at being macho and suggests that Ballistic is only interested in Loria for a relationship. “Like your freakself[!!] got a chance with her.” “Freakself?!” Not since the 1960s Teen Titans series has a group of superheroes failed so miserably to try to talk ‘like those young people today.’

Ballistic continues to talk ‘the street’: “Same chance as you, homeboy — none. You down for some pool?” He puts his arm around Mongrel and even pinches his cheek [!!] after Mongrel tells him not to touch him. Mongrel, in a completely legitimate move after Ballistic’s manhandling, shoots an energy burst at Ballistic and knocks him away.

Cut to a different camera feed, where apparently three more members of the Blood Pack are emerging from a dimensional portal that is so clearly NOT a Boom Tube. The first two come out include a guy in a mask resembling that of Grifter from the Wildstorm universe named Geist and a guy with a Pop-o-matic on his chest named Nightblade. They talk about how excited they are about the show and Nightblade pops in with this philosophical gem: “Y’Know, Geist, after you help guys like Superman save the world — how can you go back to a normal life?” Oh come on, this is the DC Universe – the end of the world isn’t even an excuse to get off of work anymore there.

Geist’s thought bubble shows off his own deep thoughts about life as a New Blood: “Not many options for a guy who turns invisible in bright light.” So, be a superhero by day or by night, big deal! If you want to be a hero during the day, you can take night classes or something. If you want to be a hero by night, you’ve got darkness on your side and bright light’s just going to make you invisible anyway, so you’re covered there! Nightblade interjects with some character development: “I’m doing this for my dad, I guess. A damn good NASCAR driver… died makin’ his comeback.” It’s a pity that Captain America knows nothing about him, then.

It seems that the third person who emerged from the not a-Boom Tube was actually the director, since he yells “Cut!!” He tells them that it was “Bor-Ring!” but Nightblade is upset by this turn of events: “Rot you, man! My father meant a lot to me!” Okay, first of all “Rot you?!” You know, at least when Battlestar Galatica made up the work ‘Frak,’ it at least sounded like the word they wanted to get past the censors. “Rot” isn’t exactly the kind of curse word I expect grown adults to be throwing at each other. The director, obviously showing his experience in such matters, tells the two: “Television is a visual medium! But hey – I’m “only” the director! You and the Invisible Man try the entrance again!” A visual medium? No, it can’t be! And here I thought it was a smelling medium! Thanks for clearing that up, Mr. Director-pants!

So Nightblade cuts off his own hand and- wait, HUH?! But it’s okay, since apparently his arm regenerates right after that. Steven Spielberg here loves it, but says it’ll never make it past the censors (obviously he’s never seen HBO’s Elizabeth). Geist asks, “Uh… Mr. Zapruder[!!]… Adrian…? Uh… Redoing the entrance… isn’t that dishonest?” It’s good to know that the guy you trust to do your superhero reality TV show is the guy who had the most complete filming of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Apparently the producers of this little escapade didn’t invest much money in this, did they?

Cut to women in their underwear. Ladies and gentlemen – the reason this comic was made, as even the camera’s narration caption tells us: “Check this out. Cool cheesecake shot in Razorsharp and Sparx’s bedroom.” Yes, because when you want a character to be EXTREME!, you’ve got to put an ‘x’ in their name. Razorsharp complains about the outfit that they want her to wear, which is clearly a bathing suit in the same vein as Sultry Teenage Super-Foxes. Sparx is laying on her side on the bed, obviously in a pose designed to imitate a swimsuit model as she giggles, “I can’t wear this one. My costume’s built-in. But what’d you expect, Razor? This is a show about superheroes.” Tee-hee, it’s funny when we’re objectified!

Razorsharp’s own superpower is demonstrated as her arm forms into a blade and she rips apart her costume- hey, wait a second! The costume she’s holding changes between the panels! Subsequently, upon looking back at the credits page, I notice no credit for an editor. That explains a lot. The women exchange confusing banter next:

“A documentary, Sparx. You know… Reality?”
“Granny used to say, “super-heroes are part actors…””
““…part boxers.” Good ol’ Granny. Can’t hear enough about her.” Hey, I love to hear about Mr. T!
“Hey! Just because we’ve got identities to protect doesn’t mean we can’t get to know each other!” What secret identity? You’re pale with long, electrical blue hair and you glow.

Razorsharp grabs Sparx and leads her into the closet to get away from the cameras. Razorsharp talks about how she doesn’t want to broadcast her background, which Sparx instantly translates as meaning she’s on the run from the law, but Razorsharp puts that theory down. She says that, “the only reason I’m here is my friends thought it’d be cool.” Well, at least we didn’t have a tag-line across the top of the comic that said, “The Next Generation of Heroes.” The camera somehow moves the closet door to the side, despite lacking any kind of arm or enough mass to move a folding closet door and Razorsharp naturally gets upset about it.

Switch back over to Ballistic and Mongrel and they’re still fighting! And then over to a room with lots of computer screens tinted green, along with some bald guy in a business suit. He talks to a woman and some guy in a keffiyeh, indicating he’s an Arab. The bald guy states that “Early feedback is great. The Blood Pack’s in all the trades.” Hmm… I don’t see the Blood Pack in any of my trade paper-backs… The woman responds, “No great feat, Baxter, considering our resources — which you’ve taken for granted! All we’ve got so far is a TV show!” Seems to me a TV show is actually a good way to replenish those resources, but then again I’m not an eeeeevil Capitalist. Baxter tells them to trust him since it was his idea to take advantage of the goodwill they generated during the New Blood crossover. Ah, so we’re looking at the DC offices!

“Now you’ve got New Blood bodies for your little science fair project — plus a kickin’ team that oozes Q-ratings!” Okay, bald men in their forties shouldn’t be using the word “kickin’.” The Arab man complains about Geist’s powers being minimal and about how no one knows anything about Razorsharp or Sparx (nor will anyone know anything about them once this miniseries is over, but…). He’s even angrier about Mongrel: “This boy went on a well-publicized rampage through Chicago! He’s a criminal!” To which Baxter waves his hand and responds, “A known fact — teenage girls love rebels.” It’s a well-known fact, eh? No wonder I never got a date in high school.

The woman just wants Baxter’s assurance that the Blood Pack will be under control when “the time comes.” Meanwhile, Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever goes on the prowl for Mongrel: “I’m on your tail, boy – with my new dual-chambered tridium tazer…” …Explain to me why he’s the leader, again? Ballistic wanders into a room with catwalks and technology all over it. All of a sudden, Ballistic sees a group of heavily-armored goons attacking Mongrel. One of the men confusingly shouts, “We’re losing stasis!” So there’s a stasis… leak, then? Bahahahahaha! Oh, I love Red Dwarf jokes…

Ballistic orders them to let him go. “I didn’t hear a “please” — but you can have him.” The compliant guards – sure, we’ll take orders from you! The armored man, identified as Devlin, releases Mongrel and says, “You were told this area’s off limits, Ballistic.” So what exactly is the plot of this show, anyway? A bunch of superpowered losers hang around a facility in a limited amount of space and don’t actually do anything but train? Yeah, I can see Neilson Boxes lighting up with this winner… or they’re just waiting for Sweeps for them to actually act like superheroes.

Ballistic and Mongrel walk off with Mongrel once again uttering, “Just don’t touch me.” Yeah, three guesses as to what his origin probably entails? Flip to the next page and here we see Ballistic being chewed out by Jennie-Lynn Haden, AKA Jade, daughter of the very first Green Lantern. She reminds him that it’s in his contract that he’s not allowed beyond the training and living areas. I can just imagine the promotional posters for this show – Thrill as the Blood Pack spends a rainy day watching TV! Gasp as they don’t fight any supervillains and just yell at the cameras! Watch their bone-chillingly predictable lives; completely censored for your protection!

Ballistic, horrifyingly enough, has discarded his ‘costume,’ and is now wearing a tank top and shorts, yet he’s still as red as a Washington football team. Jade tells him that the reactor that powers the building might’ve been damaged in their brawl while in the next room the rest of the Blood Pack are all confusingly in the same room together. Geist is just leaning against a table and staring at a wall while Mongrel hits on Loria, who is meditating even though Sparx and Razorsharp are flipping through TV channels. Razorsharp reflects our own feelings about the comic: “Boring, boring, boring.” Oh, wait, she’s talking about the TV.

Jade offers them help as both an actress and a superhero: “So I can guide you through this… if you let me.” Mongrel responds for no apparent reason, “Like a freakin’ prison!” Jade lets him know he can leave at any time and that there are other New Bloods who’d be interested in the show. But here comes the really laughable part, since Jade suggests this wonderful purpose for the show: “With this show, the Blood Pack can influence a whole new generation of metahumans.” I mean, yeah, who would want to be influenced by dorks like Superman or Wonder Woman who can juggle planets with their pinkies when we’ve got Ballistic and his dual-chambered tridium tazer, right? Eh? Eh? Am I right, folks?

Ballistic and Nightblade are just as unimpressed by this talk of inspiration as Ballistic proclaims, “God bless America” and Nightblade starts singing, “We are the World[!].” Mongrel tries to hit on Sparx, who just zaps him lightly. Geist asks, “Uh… Jade… exactly what am I supposed to be doing?” Oh, jeez, nobody read the script, did they? Jade walks off, telling him to meet with her later since she has to “talk Adrian out of quitting[?].” Razorsharp complains for a brief moment about her predicament before she proclaims, “Holy spit! We’re on TV!!” Holy lame swearing censorship, Batman! Furthermore, isn’t the entire purpose of being there to be on TV?

The team crowds around the television set, which starts its advert: “What happens when you thrust together seven young masks from different walks of life?” Find out on Camp Loser: The Blood Pack show! “This ongoing documentary about a real-life super team is the latest project from wunderkind Jeremy Baxter.” Yeah, when I think wunderkind, I think of short, bald guys who come up with an idea that Stan Lee thought up first. Either that or Alanis Morisette, but I digress. Baxter himself appears on screen, proclaiming, “It’s time for something new. We wanted only New Bloods — kids with no preconceived notions about being a hero.” Yeah, that fills me with confidence about their likeability.

Next we have some reactions from people, including Superman. Superman here is depicted in his mullet stage, but I still have to laugh since the way his hair is drawn – with every separate strand like it’s been freshly washed; it just makes me think he’s going to shake his head and shout, ‘Pantene Pro-V!’ “What’s my opinion on exploiting powers for personal gain? What do you think?” Gee, you’re right, Superman! By the way, how’s that cushy job at the Daily Planet working for you? You know, the one where you write up articles at the speed of light about Superman that you’re only able to write BECAUSE you’re Superman? What a dick.

The next reaction is from two members of the super team The Conglomerate! “Get your own shtick, Blood Pack! The Conglomerate was here first!” Yeah, and you were forgotten first, too. Seriously, I had never heard of them until this comic and their Wikipedia page is smaller than Blood Pack’s, surprisingly. Next is some random General, who’s worried about the connection between the New Bloods and the space parasites. “Yes, they saved the planet months ago – but what have they done for us lately?” Wow, with such positive reviews before Blood Pack’s pilot episode has even aired, this show will be just as successful as the CW’s Aquaman pilot!

The camera caption brings us over to Germany, where a group of yellow-armored individuals called the Demolition Team attack a nuclear power plant. They talk for a bit about why they’re attacking the place: “You forget seein’ Coast City wiped out? Seein’ your family — your past — obliterated?” For those unaware, during the end of the Death of Superman and Reign of the Supermen arcs, Green Lantern’s home town of Coast City was destroyed by the alien despot Mongul. “Makin’ you want to wipe out all the other things that destroy the earth…”

Okay, let’s count just how many things wrong there are with that statement, shall we? Just for starters – nuclear power plants on their own are actually just fine in the environment, with the biggest risks only occurring with spent fuel rods that need to be stored for several hundred years before they’re considered safe (albeit newer technologies, including the recent developments in fusion power, have started to make this seem like less of a problem). Otherwise, the plants themselves do nothing – it’s only when there’s an accident like the one you’re attempting to perpetrate that something bad happens! Furthermore, it’s been shown that nuclear power in France not only provides the CLEANEST air of any industrialized nation with the lowest amount of carbon dioxide produced. So, please tell me, what exactly do they intend to accomplish here?

“You wanna(sic) protect the earth–?” calls a voice from off-panel. “Recycle!” Sparx finishes as the Blood Pack arrives on the scene (wow, they’re actually DOING something!). Ballistic echoes my own sentiments about recycling: “Why recycle? Just waste ‘em!” Why my own sentiments? Because with the exception of recycling metals, recycling does not actually help improve the environment. In fact, it causes a detriment to the environment when one considers especially the problem to recycling paper. You see, recycling is a manufacturing process and- huh? Oh, right, the comic. Sorry, I find my ranting about nuclear power and recycling more entertaining than this tripe.

Pop-O-Nightblade yells, “The Demolition Team?!? Figures these losers survived Coast City’s destruction!” Well, you’d know losers, wouldn’t you, Nightblade? And here we actually see what Nightblade’s other superpower is (besides for having a neat way of rolling dice) – he can toss multiple throwing knives in a single arc. That’s it. He throws a bunch of knives at a group of armored terrorists. Yeah, metahumans across the world are just so inspired right now.

Loria jumps into combat while Mongrel comments on his dating prospects with her: “Too psycho for me! Lights on and nobody’s home!” Yeah, I’m sure that’s why she was the one who won the holodeck simulation while you got your intestines ripped out. “Me? I like you saucy farmgirls.” He says to Sparx. Okay, I hate him about as much as I possibly can right now. Sparx replies, “You’re just saying that ‘cause she blew you off.” Never mind, I hate him even more now.

The cameras switch over to Razorsharp and Geist, who are inside of the power plant. However, everything seems to have been transformed into a green biological system, with vein-like coverings everywhere. The hallway they’re in starts to rumble as Razorsharp worries about whether or not it’s being staged for the camera. Outside, the ground begins to rumble and one of the Demolion team shouts, “Huh? Earthquake?!” Shut up already, damn! The Blood Pack fall into a cavern that’s opened up and Loria grabs hold of Sparx’s leg, asking for help. Spark says she’ll try, but before she can, a rock hits her right in the coconut and she starts falling. Loria manages to grab hold of a rock and Nightblade for some stupid reason thinks, “Loria left her to die!” No, she saved herself as quickly as she could since there was no way she could’ve helped the falling woman who had a concussion. “This is getting too real.” Then Nightblade starts falling, and again his thoughts reveal his utter stupidity as he thinks for no particular reason: “Real–!”

Razorsharp tries to contact the others as the tremors stop and she looks at some unseen computer, stating, “This computer… no binary code I’ve ever seen — almost alien!” Geist says, “And the reactor— near as we can tell — is a big mother!” MY MOTHER WAS A SAINT! Erm- sorry about that. It’s unclear who’s talking after that, but one of them says, “Ballistic… I’m picking up some readings that are hard to miss…” Readings from what, exactly? It’s not like they’re carrying tricorders or anything. “The reactor’s opening… You get the feeling this wasn’t staged?” Oh great, so it turns out that the only reason the Blood Pack actually did something other than sit on their asses at their base was because it was a staged battle? Yeah, this’ll really sell well to the metahuman demographic. And thus our story ends on a shot of the alien… thingie, I don’t know what exactly, opening up with members of Blood Pack unconscious before it and the camera feed dying out.

Suddenly I long for the proactive “heroics” of Youngblood.

Who says there aren’t any overweight superheroes?

Ah, the Defenders.

What a terrible concept, you know? I’m sorry, I know there are fans out there, but I just don’t get the point of the team. You get concepts like the Justice League or the Avengers – the best of the planet’s heroes uniting together to defend the world from threats beyond the normal capacity of superheroes. You get concepts like the Teen Titans – a group of teenaged superheroes and sidekicks banding together to help each other grow up and work together as friends and family. You get concepts like the X-Men – oppressed individuals with unusual abilities working together to show that the prejudices against them are unjustified.

But what is the need of the Defenders? Doctor Strange, the Hulk, Silver Surfer, and Namor have nothing that unites them; they just exist. Still, The Defenders lasted an impressive 152-issue run from 1972 to 1986 before there was a new concept thrown out there in the 1990s – The Secret Defenders.

The idea was akin to the one used in Justice League Task Force – Doctor Strange would call upon a group of heroes to temporarily work together to deal with a specific threat. In theory, this actually isn’t a bad idea for a comic, kind of a Showcase Presents type of thing to highlight heroes, but if the rest of the series was anything like the subject today, I’ll have to say it failed miserably.

The writer, Ron Marz, has a love-hate relationship with comics fandom. While it may have been editorially dictated, he was the one who wrote the infamous Green Lantern story where Hal Jordan goes insane, murders several of his friends and colleagues, before turning into a full-on supervillain by absorbing all the Green Lantern energy and taking the name Parallax. He’s also responsible for inspiring the Women in Refrigerators criticism of comics and their tendency to depower, murder, rape, or otherwise just screw over female superheroines or characters. On the other hand, he also wrote Ion: Guardian of the Universe, so I won’t fault him for every bad thing he’s done.

As for the penciler Tom Grindberg… well, hell, I don’t know what to say. The artwork in this book is atrocious as we’re about to see, possibly a result of the Dark Age-style that may have been editorially handed to him, but from the other art I’ve seen of him, it baffles the mind why exactly we’re getting what we’re getting here.

Let’s start off with the hideous cover, as always. What does it say about the art when the small “icons” of the characters in the top left corner look better than the ones on the cover itself? The dizzying cover for Secret Defenders #9 features the three who will be working for Doctor Strange in this little adventure – Silver Surfer, War Machine, and our good old pal Thunderstrike. While it’s bad enough that the background colors are a nauseating collage of various shapes and wavy lines, the artwork on the three we see here is just as nerve-racking. I know Dark Age artwork took muscular structures and emphasized them considerably, but this is just sad – it’s like all three of them were balloons that got filled with enough air that any minute now they’re going to float away. Their necks are only about an inch long and they look like they can’t run, only waddle.

We open up on a ballooned, menacing Roger Delgado- erm, I mean Doctor Strange. Either of his hands are roughly the size of his head and he has a third eye on him for some reason. Oh and there are eyeballs floating around in yellow sulphuric mists that seem to be emanating from… well, I don’t really know what to call them. They look like stone, orange bones, and a single candle flame that doesn’t seem to be an actual light source. The good Doctor asks in the direction of the reader, “Why have you come to the house of DOCTOR STRANGE?” And his name is in red and made huge, as if he routinely walks around talking about himself in the most dramatic manner possible. I can just see him walking up to a Starbucks and proclaiming, DOCTOR STRANGE demands his grande double mocha!’

Cut to a two-page spread of Doctor Strange floating above the weird crap we saw on the first page as well as seeing what a cluttered mess his home, the Sanctum Sanctorum, really is. Oh, and his third eye is now gone. Silver Surfer is standing nearby and- oh, dear lord has he put on weight! Seriously, the guy’s stomach is clearly shown from the backside and his ass is at least twice as big as his head! I guess Galactus wasn’t the only guy chowing down on planets when the herald went a surfin’! The tragically-obese Silver Surfer says, “Wong let me in. He thought you would not mind. I can go if I’m intruding.” Doctor Strange replies, “Of course not, Surfer. I wouldn’t hear of it. Your arrival is simply unexpected — as are all your appearances lately. But you know you are welcome in my home at any time.” Then why were you yelling at him a minute ago for entering your house? Furthermore, what’s with the weird emphasis on certain words? Try to say that last bit of dialogue for yourself and try not to giggle when you start talking like a stereotypical hairdresser and saying ‘dahling!’

On the next page we see that the Surfer finally put his power cosmic to good use and seems to be flattening out his stomach a bit, albeit his arms and chest are still pretty weirdly drawn. Doctor Strange inquires as to why he’s here and the Surfer explains he needs some assistance. And now it’s time for the ol’ flashback to kick in detailing stuff that no one really cares about. Here’s the gist of it – apparently, a self-styled pirate named Nebula tried to steal the Infinity Gauntlet from Thanos and was imprisoned on Saturn’s moon Titan. She was later broken out of her prison and ran into the Silver Surfer after she had killed some of her former crew and I swear to God here that this page contains no less than four footnotes listing off where those actions took place, one of them even listing off a seven-issue[!] stint for the main Silver Surfer comic.

The Surfer further exposits that she’s mustering forces on the Martian moon Phobos (since when did Phobos have its own recruitment center for evil henchmen?). “Her target seems obvious — Titan.” Well, obviously. “She’ll want revenge for her imprisonment.” Wouldn’t she want revenge against the people who initially imprisoned her and not some jail (a jail of which we know nothing about… are there aliens on Titan who imprisoned her? I love how Marvel always proclaims it strives for a “real world” feel for their comics and ye we seem to get the impression that most of the moons in the solar system are inhabited!)? Doctor Strange offers assistance, but the Surfer declines. We zoom in on his face as he explains why his help would be useless, showing his face get chubbier and chubbier as if the more he speaks, the more his body fills out.

Apparently Nebula is a “Master Strategist” and that when she came into contact with many of Earth’s heroes before, she gained knowledge on all of them and subsequently what their weaknesses could be. The Surfer explains that though he failed to stop her the last time, he’ll take his chances now (yeah, go up against the woman who already knows you and your weaknesses! Who’s the master strategist now, eh?) As such, he requests Doctor Strange give him some allies who would be unfamiliar to Nebula.

Some time later, Doctor Strange has the Surfer come back to him and he shows who he has obtained. They’re veiled in silhouettes at first, making him confusedly think that Doctor Strange has obtained Thor and Iron Man. Strange replies, “No. Not quite.” Not even by a long shot, pal. And thus we are introduced to Thunderstrike and War Machine! And I just have to laugh here about how horrifying the artwork is on this page. War Machine looks like someone smushed him down so he was really wide and his legs were compressed to make up about half his body. Thunderstrike got off a little better, but his head is the size of his fist while the rest of his body is just muscled to the extreme. I’d like to say he’s on steroids but I didn’t know steroids made someone that friggin’ tall.

Just an artistic aside here – the average human body from the top of the head to the toes is usually about the height of one’s head times seven. Shoulder length is usually the width of two heads. Thunderstrike in this picture measures eleven head heights tall and five head-widths for the shoulders, just going to show once more that one needn’t to really have any anatomical knowledge in order to draw a comic.

The (unintentional) humor continues with the dialogue. Doctor Strange comments on how “Almost nobody recognizes them… least of all Nebula.” No, least of all the comic-reading public. What I really love is how Doctor Strange says right in front of them that these two are losers that aren’t well-known in the public. Still, I’ve got to say Ron Marz in this book does capture Thunderstrike’s unique and complex grasp of the English language as we saw in his own book:

“Honored to meet you… Though we’ve met before, sort of. But that’d be a long story (Oh, why stop now?) and… well… uh…Like I said… I’m honored. Really.” Somewhere out there Shakespeare’s swooning, folks.

Silver Surfer must be kicking himself now as he asks, “You’re sure they’re up to it?” Doctor Strange affirms his confidence in the two and the Surfer asks the two if they’ve been explained what they’ll be up against. War Machine replies, “All right with me. Sounds like a good scrap.” If you mean your armor, then yes, your armor will make good scrap. “I need a chance to work out the kinks in this suit, anyway.” Oh, well that should put the Silver Surfer’s fears to rest – your armor’s apparently not even perfected and yet you want to go up against the Master Strategist. Doctor Strange apparently didn’t spend much time looking for these two, did he?

Thunderstrike expresses his own confidence in the mission: “I mean, with the three of us, this nebula doesn’t stand a chance, right?” This coming from the guy whose original arch-nemesis was a Rastafarian Doctor Doom called “Carjack.” On top of that is War Machine, who I’m sure has quite an arsenal that would make him a threat on Earth, but the amount of alien technology at Nebula’s disposal must easily trump War Machine’s weapons. And as the Surfer explained, even he is pretty much useless in this fight because Nebula’s already encountered him and therefore can out-strategize him. Here’s a thought – instead of bringing in two losers that even Doctor Strange admitted “nobody recognizes,” how about you organize the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, and every other hero at your disposal and go on a huge assault on her? Sure, she’s a master strategist, but the number of superpowered individuals at their disposal must create too many variables for her to have to factor in.

The Silver Surfer warns them not to get overconfident, especially since even by his own admission: “We are only three, and it’s certain Nebula has gathered a sizable force by now. Her troops will be well-armed and well-trained.” This is going to be like the superhero Bay of Pigs, isn’t it? Doctor Strange teleports them away amidst more nauseating magical effects and we can see once again that apparently between panels the heroes have gained significant weight (especially in their legs. Wow!), making me think this is actually going to be a superhero Bay of Pigs orchestrated by Fat Bastard, an elderly Marlon Brando, and Chris Farley.

Cut to a two-page spread of the battle on Phobos! It’s the kind of battle one would see in Infinite Crisis or Civil War except it’s ridiculously lame compared to the group shots in those books because only THREE heroes are here and the rest are just an assortment of unrecognizable aliens who are either standing around or just getting blasted through by Silver Surfer, War Machine, and Thunderstr- BY DIEHARD’S CROTCH! What the hell happened to Thunderstrike’s spine?! He’s curving his body more than a female character by Michael Turner! Come to think of it, none of these people have any kind of space suits on. How the hell are they breathing?

The Silver Surfer says he’ll go on ahead to hunt for Nebula while the other two take on the horde of alien soldiers. War Machine responds with a non-chalant, “Fine. Everything’s under control here.” I guess he’s grown as bored with this stuff as we have. Thunderstrike has this to say: “Sure, you track her down, but, uh… leave some for us, okay?” I just gasp whenever Thunderstrike speaks – his words are spoken softly — through gritted teeth — but they strike with the force of a thunderbolt! *Sigh*

*Ahem* Anyway, Silver Surfer flies up, blasting an alien in half (come to think of it, all three of them aren’t exactly pulling their punches to prevent slicing and dicing the alien soldiers here) as he reasons where Nebula could be: “Resistance is heaviest near Nebula’s flagship. I suspect that’s where I’ll find her… waiting for me. I won’t disappoint her.” So his plan is to fly into Nebula’s Flagship guns ablazing right where she wants to and… what, exactly? I guess Surfer’s plan is:

1. Fly right into Nebula’s hands.
2. ???
3. Profit!

Brilliant strategy, Napoleon. Weren’t you the one lecturing the other two a minute ago about being overconfident? A weird energy burst comes from a gun in some green guy’s hands that knocks out the Silver Surfer in one blast. We see Nebula herself now and apparently she’s Locutus of Borg with child-bearing hips and actually quite an impressive package for a woman. She explains that the weapon was a “Synaptic Disruptor,” for those who were wondering how some energy weapon could take down someone with the power cosmic. Oh, and she’s also wearing a leather jacket for no particular reason with the Flash’s lightning bolt on the lapel. Make ‘Buried Alien’ jokes at your leisure.

Cutting back to Thunder Strike and War Machine, the two are actually having a decent conversation about how it shouldn’t matter if they’re viewed as imitations of more well-known heroes. “If you’re in this to do some good, doesn’t matter who you look like. Long as you get the job done. Remember that, Thunderstrike, and everything falls into place.” Of course, the touching little commentary on heroism and resemblance is undercut by the fact that the two look like two overweight bikers trying to storm their way over to a sack of White Castles, but it’s a nice sentiment for the two.

And of course the “well-armed, well-trained” soldiers are easily smacked around by a guy in a suit of technologically-inferior armor and a guy who looks like Crocodile Dundee if he let his hair and beard grow out. Suddenly, some red, demonic-looking alien grabs Thunderstrike and threatens him with a curvy blade, which is somehow supposed to create dramatic tension, except for the fact that we know the guy has enhanced strength, which means a little blade isn’t going to do crap on him. War Machine frags the alien and I’ve got to shake my head at the thought that just a second ago they were talking about being heroes.

The two fly off in search of the Silver Surfer and we finally get an explanation for how they can breathe: an “artificial atmosphere envelope.” Hmmm… Nope, not buying it. Sorry. They arrive at the edge of the “artificial atmosphere envelope” and find the Silver Surfer strapped to some big hunk of metal. Nebula starts ‘mu-ha-ha-ing’ about how she was ready for the Surfer while she stands in an awkward pose that once again points out what a tiny waist she has but that she’s got a big butt, too. Oh and this page has the only bright spot in this whole issue – it’s the reflection of light on the bottom of the thing Silver Surfer’s strapped to.

Nebula gets in a nice zing on the two has-beens: “And you two jokes — whatever you’re supposed to be — can’t do a thing to stop me.” Damn, those two just got owned by a cyborg Sinead O’Connor. Thunderstrike’s ready to open a can of whoopass over the insult, but War Machine tells him to take it easy (in quite possibly the best-drawn panel of the entire comic if only because we can’t see their bodies, just their faces and part of their shoulders). Nebula exposits that the Silver Surfer is strapped to a fusion-reaction bomb that “he’s going to ride it all the way down to Titan.” Doctor Strangelove, eat your heart out.

This does raise even more questions, though – how exactly does she plan on getting the bomb to Titan? She supposedly has a “Flagship,” yet every time we see her here she’s standing on a bunch of rocks. And again I must ask – what’s the point of taking out Titan, exactly? It seems to me that the Silver Surfer probably has more to answer for in terms of doing crap to you than some prison and you even have the surfer captured and you can kill him with the bomb already. And perhaps most damning of all, are we really supposed to take Nebula here as a “Master Strategist?” So far the ‘heroes’ are the ones who have bumbled around just leaping in without a second thought. And not to mention it doesn’t exactly take much to take down either of these two. Bear in mind, a good EMP could probably leave War Machine defenseless. And Thunderstrike here was taken down by Bloodaxe of all people.

Thunderstrike asks, “And you expect us to stand by and let you do it?” Nebula, channeling her inner James Bond villain, responds, “No. Of course not. I expect you to stand here and be killed.” The book ends as two more overweight aliens suddenly come floating down (or is it supposed to be leaping? I can’t imagine having that much fat on a body and being able to leap like that) and Nebula explains that they are her Lieutenants Kurg and Kruk and that they’re “particularly good soldiers because I’ve had all their nerve endings cauterized. They feel no pain. But you will.”

Dun dun duuuuuuuun! Will Silver Surfer become the Silver Smudge?! Will Thunderstrike and War Machine get on the Slim Fast Plan before they run afoul of a heart attack?! Does Nebula realize that Persis Khambatta isn’t a good role model for one’s hairstyle?! Who knows, who cares. I have to go order a new crate of donuts for the Silver Surfer.

Who knew the Irish had secret ninja powers?

For the previous installments, please check:

All-Star Batman and Robin #1

And

All-Star Batman and Robin #2

This time around I have the kick-ass Jim Lee cover. While it features the cheesecake costume of Black Canary, it’s really not that terrible a thing, since cheesecake on its own isn’t bad, especially not in this situation. We have the image of Black Canary with her body in a flying kick and an angry expression on her face. She’s active and she’s strong. Just looking at this image implies that Black Canary is not someone you want to screw around with. While I don’t have it to show you, those who are curious may look up Frank Miller’s alternate cover. What’s featured on that one? Black Canary slacking herself back, dragging a cigarette, and drawn like she was a $2 hooker found at the back of a bar. Once again, folks, in Frank Miller’s world, Men are from Mars, Women are from the whorehouse.

When we last left off, Dick Grayson had been convinced to join the fantabulous world of superheroes after BINO (Batman In Name Only) gave a soliloquy worthy of Shakespeare (if Shakespeare had been a murderous pedophile whose plays had been performed not before the Queen of England but the Queens bar and grill down the road). So, of course, one would think we’d be returning to that, right? Of course not, because now we are “Six Months Ago.” It’s a full-page shot of a fat, drunken loser walking out of a bar called the Black Canary and mumbling to himself in full, Frank Miller-styled repeating dialogue, “Who’s that little piece of sass think she is? Cuttin’ me off. Me.” Well, I’m sorry Senator Kennedy, not everyone reads the papers. “Who she think(sic) she is? I can hold my liquor. I can hold it.” I can hold it, too – the gun to my head, I mean. I’m going to play Russian Roulette before I get through this…

Another note on this scene is that Frank Miller’s prose, lovingly referred to on a message board I frequent as Idiotic Pentameter, is also in force in the narration boxes. It refers to the Black Canary bar as “something that came out of the back end of a horse.” That Frank just paints a picture, doesn’t he? Two figures emerge from off-panel, talking about the place. One says, “You’re not gonna(sic) believe this, Dipstick. You’re not gonna believe your eyes.” “It better be fine, Dorothy[?!]. She better be fine.” What you didn’t know of the Wizard of Oz book Dorothy and the Prostitute Village of Oz?

The narration box lets us know: “The only people with any reason to be out this late are hookers and cops — and losers.” Well, you’d know all three of those, wouldn’t you, Frank? When the two ‘gentleman’ enter, we can tell what kind of place this is. Essentially, it’s a Hooters bar but with the waitresses wearing the Black Canary costume instead of tight t-shirts and short orange hot pants. And, of course, the dialogue shows that she’s getting hit on from all sides along with normal drink orders. Surprisingly, there are even a few women at the bar who seem to be getting drinks, but knowing Frank they’re probably hitting on Black Canary, too. ‘Humorously,’ as Frank continues to talk about the people who are out this late, he brings up Black Canary herself along with a cartoon image of a stick of dynamite: “This particular bartender’s fuse is getting shorter by the moment.”

Just as a side note considering the two losers who enter the bar continue to talk about Black Canary like a piece of meat, I have to wonder what exactly is the appeal of places like this or, for that matter, strip clubs in general. One is (usually) not allowed to directly touch the dancers/waitresses, cannot masturbate, and there is no expectation of sex, so they don’t even have a prostitution thing going. Sure, there’s the ‘they’re paying attention to you angle,’ but I know pornos that do that sort of thing and you can do that in the privacy of your own home and not around a bunch of lascivious, annoying other guys.

We get a full shot of who I can only presume is Dinah Lance concerning the Black Canary costume and she asks the two morons what their order is amidst all the flirtations of the other people at the bar. Oh, and just for maximum effect, we get to have a reflection of the mirror with the horny gazes of the men at the bar at Black Canary while she just looks off to the side. You see, boys, she’s here for your pleasure, just like that slut Vicki Vale. The narration doesn’t help: “…Maybe she’s having a bad night. Or maybe it’s something somebody said. Or maybe it’s something someone’s about to say.” Well, make up your mind! “Something in her gut is just aching to break out. Something unpleasant.” Oh no, she’s got a chestbuster alien! Run for your lives!

The two losers push aside other people at the bar and ask for some drinks and then, in some censored scribbles, ask Dinah to do something that I’m sure is sexual in nature. In a legitimately funny moment, Dinah responds with, “As for that other service you gents requested of me, I’ll leave it to you two boys to provide for each other.” Zing. Oh, and Black Canary’s Irish now, too. Honestly, what was the point of this sequence to the series? Oh, and I do compliment Frank on a little more subtle satire here in the fact that one of the two idiots looks like Oliver Queen, Dinah’s on-and-off boyfriend Green Arrow. Of course, this could actually be the awesomeness of Jim Lee at work. We may never know. The other moron reaches over and grabs Black Canary’s ass and, as such, you can pretty much figure out what happens next.

Yeah, the cartoon dynamite fuse runs out and Dinah does an aerial kick to both of the morons. I- wait, huh?! Okay, nothing of what we’ve seen so far of Black Canary indicates she has the training to pull off a move like that. In fact, the dialogue says she left Monaghan and her mother, brothers, and sisters to come here. There’s no trace of the normal Dinah Lance we know and love, the one who was trained by Wildcat and the Justice Society of America against her mother’s wishes to become the next Black Canary and fight crime. Do the Irish have hidden Irish ninja powers that they haven’t told anybody about?

Anyway, Dinah continues to go nuts as she attacks some random patron in the bar (and revealing she’s wearing high heels – because, you know, when you’re working on your feet for several hours, you should be wearing high heels) and performs another unbelievable move by doing a flip across the room and over several people and landing gracefully. And all throughout her Heroic Spaz Attack, Frank Miller subjects us to all the names Black Canary gets called on the job from the previous pages, only now in the narration boxes. And for some unknown reason, “Hot Momma” is used three times to start it off. Once more I have to compliment Jim Lee’s pencils since on the next page, we see Black Canary standing with her arms crossed – combining sexy and strong as she smiles at the bar patrons and announces, “It isn’t near closing time, gents.” She then kicks some random bystander and says, “We’re still open for business.”

Dinah just keeps smashing away at the bar patrons, whether they made sexist comments or not, for another few pages before we return to Frank Miller’s horrific narration boxes. While it’s one thing for Black Canary to legitimately punch the guy who grabbed her rear, maybe even yell at or hit the people who objectified her with name-calling, she has gone completely whack-jacko by attacking everyone in the bar. But you know what the worst of it is? This: “It’s not that what set her off. It’s not the insults that these vermin pass off as flirtation. That’s not what set her off.” Oh, goodie, so she doesn’t even have a legitimate reason for her ass-kickery. “It’s a man. That’s what set her off. A single solitary man. A man who’s got her thinking all different. A man she’s never met. A man who’s stood up and said “enough.”” Because, you know, women can’t be inspired to action themselves; they need a man to do that for them.

The boss of the bar suddenly comes in because of the commotion and sees Black Canary stealing wallets off the unconscious patrons[!!]. Yes, not only is Black Canary a sex object who can only take action when inspired by men (even if that action is complete overkill), but she’s also a thief. Thanks, Frank. Dinah tenders her resignation and sees that the Oliver Queen look alike is even wearing a wedding ring. So, what does our heroic Black Canary do? She force-feeds him his own wedding ring. Folks, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again – every scene in this series contains a Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot moment and here we have another. Words fail me at the sheer level of unheroic behavior all of the ‘heroes’ have exhibited here.

And what was it that got into Dinah’s head, anyway? What made her have her spaz attack and practically kill everyone in a bar? What man was it that inspired such behavior? “…Batman.. And that, my friends, was the sound of me hitting my head against the table. After calling her “sweet chunks,” our brave bar owner is tossed out a window by Black Canary. On a pizza box outside of the place, in what I’m sure is a message from the editor once again realizing just how stupid this is, are the words “Mai in ritardo,” which I’m told means “This is stupid” in Italian. If we’re wrong about this, please let us know and I’ll fix it, but otherwise I love the sentiment.

If the full-page shot of the bar owner getting tossed out a window wasn’t enough for us, we then get a full-page shot of Dinah stealing a motorcycle belonging to one of the bar patrons, which Frank helpfully tells us is “a roaring lion between her legs.” Ah, double entendres for the ‘liberated’ woman? Thanks, Frankie. You know, another theory thrown out on message boards I go to is that Frank actually knows just how crappy this stuff is. He’s so sick of writing Batman that if he writes such atrocious stuff, DC will stop asking him to do it. I’m not holding my breath, though. Well, actually I am because I want the pain to end, but…

Ah, and now our little segue into six months ago ends and we’re in the now. Oh, and that excursion lasted fourteen friggin’ pages! Over half the comic was devoted to a sequence that made no sense in the context of the greater story and depicted Black Canary as being just as psychotic and unheroic as BINO. This is supposed to be All-Star Batman and Robin, Frank! When we want All-Star Black Canary, we’ll call Gail Simone!

In any case, we finally return to the flying Batmobile (I’m still in shock over that one) where BINO’s ever-deranged narrative boxes give us a keen insight into the Darkknight Detective’s mind: “I’ve KIDNAPPED a traumatized YOUNGSTER and DRAFTED him into my HOLY WAR.” Holy Terror, Batman! Oh, wait, that’s another Frank Miller book that hasn’t been released yet. “I chose him with CARE. I did my HOMEWORK.” Well I hope you did, young man, because otherwise I’m not going to let you go play with your friends!

“DICK GRAYSON. AGE TWELVE. AERIALIST. The best I’ve ever SEEN.” There was a guy he knew who was better, but he was only the best he HEARD. And in the most shocking bit of Mary Sue-ism since Youngblood’s Vogue, here’s Dick Grayson, Age Twelve’s biography: “Top of his CLASS in just about every SCHOOL his roving circus life TOOK him to. Made BLACK BELT a few weeks before he turned NINE[!!!].” Seriously, I’m starting to think BINO is the one who orchestrated Dick’s parents’ murder just so he could kidnap this kid. The Batmobile starts plummeting down and Dick Grayson, Age Twelve naturally responds to this with alarm. Aw, what happened to “I’ll be brave,” kid?

To further break me away from my sense of reality, the Batmobile falls into water and converts into a submarine[!!]. Dick Grayson, Age Twelve jokes, “You still haven’t told me what a “ward” is.” BINO promptly tells him to shut up, but Dick asks him what he calls the vehicle. BINO grins and we get this colorful dialogue:

“The Batmobile.”
Dick Grayson, Age Twelve rolls his eyes and says, “That is totally queer.”
BINO scowls, downtrodden since that the twelve year-old isn’t impressed with his stellar naming skills, and promptly tells Dick to shut up again.

But enough of that scene! Let’s switch over to Metropolis, fifteen hours ago and- hey, wait a second! On a carton of milk is a ‘Missing’ photo with Dick Grayson’s picture on it. At no point does it mention Batman, but we see that it’s Clark Kent holding the carton and he summarily crushes it! WOW, he must be Superman if he has the strength to crush liquid encased in cardboard! But anyway, my shock isn’t that, but the fact that this is fifteen hours ago. Think for a minute – that would’ve meant that Clark bought a carton of milk sometime between the time of the early morning and a few days prior during grocery shopping that featured Dick Grayson’s picture on it even though BINO only kidnapped him roughly an hour ago. And for the milk to have gotten to the grocery store to begin with would’ve taken a few days, which means the printing of that picture took place before then and- AAAARRRGH! The non-logic is killing my puny human brain! I need some milk!

A copy of the Daily Planet is pushed under Clark’s door for some reason, which has the words “Bat-Napped” written across the headline and Clark, having a heroic spaz attack of his own but no one to do Irish ninja kicks on, simply uses his heat vision, shattering his glasses and burning the newspaper. And the logic centers of my brain once again go nuts, since if this was “fifteen hours ago,” that means that BINO and Dick Grayson, Age Twelve, have been driving for fifteen hours since Dick’s kidnapping would’ve taken some time for them to write an article about it that took up so much of the front page! Seriously, I can’t even begin to think how this is supposed to make sense unless the criminals that were responsible for this had so much pull in both Gotham and Metropolis as to manipulate policemen, newspapers, and milk companies to report about a kidnapping that had occurred before it ever happened (especially odd since they had planned on killing Dick for some unknown reason). The only other explanation is that BINO and Dick have been driving around for hours, which would explain why Dick went from, “I’ll be Brave” to “That is totally queer,” but it makes my feeble brain even more confused.

Okay, let’s move on with the story and- what the hell?! After a last panel of Clark proclaiming “Damn!” (Jim Lee is wasted on this tripe), we flip the page only to discover the Superman symbol and the words “To Be Continued…” written across the bottom! WHAT IS EVEN THE HELL?! Fourteen pages of Black Canary, two pages of Clark Kent, and only FOUR PAGES OF BINO?! Admittedly, this means less of the bizarre creature that calls itself Batman, but still, did Frank even understand what it was he was supposed to be writing?!

That’s it, I’m going to go see if I can create heat vision and burn this crap.