Crazy In Love: The Saga of the Super-Sons

This may be hard to believe, but sometimes the comic book big shots have some really bad ideas for story lines. And sometimes they will even drag these bad stories out way too long. Something what should have been contained in a single issue, or perhaps even a single panel...or to a single piece of fanfiction...or not at all. Something like...The Saga of the Super-Sons. This is something that DC pulled out of their asses in the early 70s. These two losers showed up in several World's Finest comics, ruining them for everyone.

First of all, for the record, only one son is "super." The other is "bat." World's Finest Sons would make more sense, but would be a gross misstatement.

There are only two ways to enjoy these characters. One, because in costume they look exactly like their fathers, you can pretend that the ridiculous things they say are actually being said by Superman and Batman. Two, you can focus on how totally and completely in love these two boys are.

Oh, Bruce Junior. Such a hippy. Where did Bruce Sr. go wrong?

Not that Junior doesn't have the astounding detective skills of his dad, as demonstrated here:

Keen eye, kiddo!

Of course, being the egomaniacs that they are, Superman and Batman have named their sons after themselves. Because that's a really good way to cover the ol' secret identity. Especially since Bruce and Clark jrs are pretty open about complaining about their superhero fathers. And the dads aren't so good at keeping the secret either:

Heh. "Big Daddy."

I'd like to point out that they are in the vicinity of some criminals that Batman just beat up. And while beating up these criminals, Batman exclaimed upon seeing his son, and I quote "Bruce...? My boy...Bruce?"

Like I was saying, in costume the sons look just like their dads. So let's pretend that this is really Batman talking in these panels:

Man I wish Batman would say "bomberoo" more often.

Superman Jr is also an idiot. But you don't have to take my word for it:

I don't like the hint of smile on Supe Jr's face one bit. They just watched a man get mowed down with a machine gun and he's cracking wise. *shudder*

Oh, and here's what he decides to do rather and stop a train full of toxic gas:

Wow.

These boys also have a strange pre-occupation with paddling tail (which, if you ask me, is exactly what a certain couple of super dads need to do to their useless sons):

I can't really find any way to segue into this panel, but would you check out Superman Jr's bizarre caught-in-an-explosion pose here:

Oh, MY GOD is right, Bat-Son (also...you're in a garbage can).

Ok, things get really weird in the 1974 World's Finest 100 Page Super Spectacular. The sons are getting along so poorly with their dads that all four of them end up at some weird all-man hippy retreat to heal their relationships. Thus we get a bone-chilling panel that I will never be able to erase from my memory:

"Men...Dancing Together?" Oh, come on, Clark. Like you don't love that idea. Plus, it's your SON, doofus! No one is going to think you're gay. This might raise some eyebrows, though:

That...is not how Batman and Superman fly together...I'm pretty sure...usually...

Anyway, the sons decide to trade dads for a bit at this retreat. Then we get these hilarious panels:

"Straight, eh? That's what he called me, hmm? Well, we'll just see about that!"

Let's see what wholesome activity Clark Jr is engaging in with Bruce Wayne:

Yeah...ok. Willing pupil, eh? Wait! Switching dads permanently?! That's not how life works! This story is so bizarre.

These characters suck. Death would be too kind for these guys. But they were part of one of the best comic covers of all time:

Awesome.

In conclusion...PILLOW FIGHT!!!!

Review of the Picard Song, By Johnathan

So I believe that most everyone but me had already heard the Picard Song before I did today. Nevertheless, I must speak: this is an utterly awesome song.

Thoroughly

JOHN APPROVED

Bath-Man

I was re-reading the JLA: Crisis of Conscience trade because I like it, but sometimes little things can really get you down.

I mean, I don't want to nit-pick because I love a good Batman/Catwoman scene, and I can appreciate how awesome it is that Selina is bringing tea for two down to the Batcave wearing nothing but Bruce's monogrammed bathrobe. HOWEVER...

I dunno. Call me crazy, but I just think that Bruce Wayne's housecoat shouldn't be too small for Selina Kyle.

Review of the Super-Human Detritus of the 30th Century, Part 1, By Johnathan

For the last few months I have been reading the exploits of the Legion of Super Heroes, who are as you may know the cream of the crop when it comes to super-powered future-teens. One of the recurring themes of Legion stories were the tryouts, wherein various losers would try to demonstrate their worthiness to join the Legion. Most would screw up horribly and get kicked out, but once in a while someone would qualify, and even more infrequently such an inductee would be something other than a super villain.

Anyway, these tryouts were full of great characters who acted like morons, so I'm writing about them (of course).

First up, appropriately, is the very first applicant at the very first Legion general tryout: Lester Spiffany!

Lester shows up in his very own chauffeured rocket, set to dazzle and amaze:
Now, my two favourite things about this panel: 1) the 'swankiest jewelry establishment' line, which makes me think that the chauffeur used to me a cab driver or something. "Youse want I should take ya to a swanky hotel, mac?" and 2) the use of 'er' which cropped up all over the place in DC during this era, and is the second-most unnatural comic book speech habit of all time (the first being the way that anyone under the age of five in the DC universe used to talk like Tarzan of the Apes. I still have a hard time reading anything featuring Superbaby or Wonder Tot without visibly cringing because of this).

Lester's role in the proceedings quickly emerges: he is there to assure the reader that in the future there will still be douchebags.

Of course the Legionnaires reject his offer of money for membership, as they are honest, upright and incorruptible, as well as funded by the richest man in the galaxy. Showing some genuine class, Lester leaves for his appointment on Mars.

"Gosh, this sure is a swanky planet, boss. And plenty red, too."

JOHN APPROVED

HOT Action Comics

The mid-80s was a time of boundary-pushing in the comic industry. Stories were trying hard to be gritty and dark and "real." Even with that in mind, I still don't know how this one got past the censors. Not so much because of it's mature subject matter, but because it's Superman.

First of all, big thanks to Dave for lending me these issues (Action Comics #592 & 593 by John Byrne).

Ok, so Big Barda is hanging out in Metropolis's notorious Suicide Slum when she runs into this guy:
His name is Sleez, and he is so gross that, get this, he was kicked out of Apokoplips. Yeah, you have to suck a lot for that to happen. Since Sleez is his game, as well as his name, he uses the power of the mega rod that he steals from Barda to make her dance for him in a skimpy outfit:

I love Sleez's jambox. What song do you think is playing? It looks like something from Jesus Christ Superstar, maybe. Or Hair.

Seriously, though, Barda's capture is pretty disturbing. We don't actually see her being forced to perform sexual favours, but panels like this one kind of imply that it's happening:

Yay! Superman! Except, no, wait. Superman is a douchebag:

That's, uh, real sensitive, Superman. Is that what you say to all rape victims? "Sorry, miss. I don't recognize you because you look like a WHORE." I mean, what if it was Wonder Woman under all that "glop"? Also, is Wonder Woman the only dark-haired woman that Superman knows? Because I can think of at least one other he might be familiar with...

So anyway, Sleez ends up trapping both Barda and Superman, and putting them both under his mind-control spell. Oh yes, you can see where this is going.

As it turns out, Sleez has been making money by pimping Barda out to a porno movie producer. He's already made at least one movie with her, and now he's offering Superman to the producer as well. Yup. That's what I said. Check it out:

Ok, wait. Rewind.

WOAH! WOAH! First of all, I think there just might be a market for THAT solo act, Mr Porno. And also...SOLO ACT?! SUPERMAN?! Just take a moment to consider what exactly they are talking about here. And then the line "any co-star's gonna wind up looking like my desk"!! This is so dirty and wrong!

Meanwhile, Darkseid has shown Mr Miracle some recent video footage of his wife "performing." Here are the excellent reaction shots of both Mr Miracle and Oberon:

So he runs off to find and rescue Barda.

This is really the money shot of the comic, as it were:

Ha! Superman sucks at porn! This is really as far as things get because Mr Miracle arrives to break up the party:

I wouldn't necessarily say that things were about to go too far, Mr M. I mean, they just started kissing finally. It's barely first base. (Alternately: Mr Miracle does not consider his wife kissing another man to be "going too far").

Afterwards, there is this awkward conversation between Superman and Barda:

"I mean, we...sort of kissed a little. Fully clothed..."

No one seems concerned enough that Barda was trapped for what must have been days, being forced to make porno movies. That's pretty awful.

And what became of Sleez? He blew himself up by igniting sewer gases. The result is one of the greatest Superman-explosion-aftermath panels I've ever seen:

"...Great... ...Scott...!!" It's a pretty good explosion panel, too.

So there you have it. Superman was once forced to do porn in an actual DC-published comic. So don't think that your fanfiction is original.

And Pipe Smoking In Teen Boys Dropped Dramatically...

Why can't I just sit and enjoy a comic without seeing an ad that makes me cry?

Jesus that's bleak. I like this line: "He was a tough cop, and proud of it. Eating right, exercise, vacations - those were for guys not so tough."

Exercise? Sure, eating right and vacations I'll accept. Those things are for pussies. But exercise is kinda macho, isn't it?

And who is there to mourn Gordon's passing? No one. Because no one wants to be anywhere near a filthy smoker.

Incidentally, who is manning the Bat Signal on this grim evening?

Anyway, I just hope Batman hunts down the asshole who got Gordon started on pipe smoking in the first place and beats the holy living...

...oh.