Comics

These just made me laugh, what else can I say? (I didn't write this - it is from a great site the Institute of Cheer)


Get in the car! It’s a Unicornisaurus Rex! With fingers!

Then again, why worry? He’s so weak he has to hold on to a building for support. It makes him look like a sarcastic high-school English teacher who's just heard a student make a particularly banal observation about "The Scarlet Letter." Oh really Mr. Anderson. Would you care to elaborate?

“The Planet that Admired the Earth” does not immediately seem like a set-up that would yield 4,329 (exactly!) gasps, let alone prove its mettle as the most gripping space story ever published, unless the publishers had perfected some sort of technology that made a hand spring from the book and grip you in the crotch. Granted, “The Planet that Admired the Earth” was more gasp-inducing than "The Planet that Could Be Persuaded, After a Glass of Brandy, To Admit That the Earth Had Certain Merits", or its precedessor, "The Planet That Wouldn’t Kick Earth Out of Bed for Having Deserts, If You Know What I Mean, " but still. You can tell it’s a lame line-up of stories - look at the guy in the lower right-hand corner. He’s looking straight at the list, and he’s not too thrilled.

What did he expect? A ghost? Probably, yeah.





This is just all kinds of stupid. This is the gamut of stupid. This is the entire spectrum of stupid, including the parts the human eye cannot detect, but can be seen only by bees. You could start with the art, which gives Bats stumpy legs and a beer-barrel torso; you could move on to his first deadly foe, the Insurance Adjuster with a net fetish. You could wonder why Batman could be immobilized by something as simple as a net with weights. Here’s a hint, Bruce – grasp a few weights, pick them up, and exit the net. You could have endless sport with the idea of Robin learning that B. screwed the pooch in his early outings, but at least got the kinks out before he started his career.

What really seals the deal and adds a big red Stupid Cherry is the book: “Batman’s Diary.” With a logo. And the logo on the spine. You can see him sitting on the floor on his tummy, legs up and crossed at the ankles, chewing on a pencil, listening to some music from those dreamy Beatles, wondering how to start.

“Dear Diary! Today I began to act out my bifurcated nature by channeling my childhood abandonment issues into costume-assisted crime control. Well! You won’t believe what happened.”

Golly, indeed.





Ol’ Boomie didn’t really overthink the wardrobe – blue tights, a dyed cap he got at Army surplus, the sort of scarf favored by aviators in the days before they tired of having it catch in the prop and yank them from the cockpit, and a flirty little skirt that sets off his beer-barrel thighs quite nicely.

(from Institute of Cheer)