Gotham Gazette
Here's a fun little excerpt from the Batman novel Inferno by Alex Irvine. It's amusing.
Bull's-Eye
Rafael del Toro, Gotham Gazette Columnist
Far be it from me--well, usually--to start a public dustup within the happy little Gazette family, but last week's little bit of (you'll pardon the pun) auto-eroticism put me right over the edge. The Gazette's esteemed automotive columnist, you'll recall, published what was billed as a think piece on Batman's car--Batman's car!--wondering what kind of power train it had, what kind of suspension, whether the costumed crackpot had gotten hold of military-grade materials for its apparently bulletproof exterior, and so on.
And this was on Page One, above the fold, the same day that Carmine Falcone's goons turned the Gotham Superior Courthouse into their own personal shooting gallery, with judges as the little duckies going back and forth until they got plinked.
Priorities, people.
I've got an idea. If we're going to call this guy Batman, let's be consistent. Why bother to figure out what kind of car he's driving? It's the Batcar, on a Batchassis powered by a Batmotor, with top-of-the-line Batsprings and an aftermarket Batexhaust that every auto enthusiast between here and Detroit would kill his mother to have. He wears a Batsuit with a Batcape, and he goes home to a Bathouse where there's a Batwife and Batkids and a Batdog. He captures villains with little metal things? Okay, those are Batarangs, and he swings from building to building with a Batgrappler. Hell, let's brand the whole thing. Make a TV show about it, refurbish some of the old factories in Chinatown so they can turn out Bat-toys for little kids who want to grow up to be sociopathic vigilantes. That's urban renewal.
I think you've got the point by now, right? Calling this lunatic Batman is just feeding into whatever grandiose weirdness he has in his head already. Unless we're all ready for Gotham City to become Battown (it's already Batsh*t crazy, if you ask me), then we need to reel in this whole Batphenomenon before everyone goes right off the Bat-deep Bat-end.
And with that, I return you to your regularly scheduled obsession with costumed maniacs. Carmine, if you want to shoot me, I'll be at the rewrite desk.
Bull's-Eye
Rafael del Toro, Gotham Gazette Columnist
Far be it from me--well, usually--to start a public dustup within the happy little Gazette family, but last week's little bit of (you'll pardon the pun) auto-eroticism put me right over the edge. The Gazette's esteemed automotive columnist, you'll recall, published what was billed as a think piece on Batman's car--Batman's car!--wondering what kind of power train it had, what kind of suspension, whether the costumed crackpot had gotten hold of military-grade materials for its apparently bulletproof exterior, and so on.
And this was on Page One, above the fold, the same day that Carmine Falcone's goons turned the Gotham Superior Courthouse into their own personal shooting gallery, with judges as the little duckies going back and forth until they got plinked.
Priorities, people.
I've got an idea. If we're going to call this guy Batman, let's be consistent. Why bother to figure out what kind of car he's driving? It's the Batcar, on a Batchassis powered by a Batmotor, with top-of-the-line Batsprings and an aftermarket Batexhaust that every auto enthusiast between here and Detroit would kill his mother to have. He wears a Batsuit with a Batcape, and he goes home to a Bathouse where there's a Batwife and Batkids and a Batdog. He captures villains with little metal things? Okay, those are Batarangs, and he swings from building to building with a Batgrappler. Hell, let's brand the whole thing. Make a TV show about it, refurbish some of the old factories in Chinatown so they can turn out Bat-toys for little kids who want to grow up to be sociopathic vigilantes. That's urban renewal.
I think you've got the point by now, right? Calling this lunatic Batman is just feeding into whatever grandiose weirdness he has in his head already. Unless we're all ready for Gotham City to become Battown (it's already Batsh*t crazy, if you ask me), then we need to reel in this whole Batphenomenon before everyone goes right off the Bat-deep Bat-end.
And with that, I return you to your regularly scheduled obsession with costumed maniacs. Carmine, if you want to shoot me, I'll be at the rewrite desk.