Oh, Alfred....

Heeeeeee Did Not Care Anymore —

Life — Death — The Same

Only that The Crowd would be there to greet him with howls of Lust and Fury. 

He began to realize his sense of worth. 

He Mattered.

I Don’t Want to Kill You

Natural Selection will make you willing to 

Sacrifice Your Life for a Brother 

and 

Risk Your Life for a Cousin.

I •ALWAYS• Know Who You Are, It’s Just Sometimes I Don’t Recognise You.....

How did all this start? 

How did what all start? 

Well, this.

Sarah.

God said to Abraham,

"Look toward the heavens and number the stars and so shall your descendants be." 

But Abraham's wife, Sarah, wasn't getting any younger and God wasn't coming through on his promise.

[ I was very young when I had my kids.

I was very, very, VERY, very young.

I was barely even born yet when I had my oldest daughter, Elizabeth. ]

Anyway, Sarah was getting older, and she was getting nervous because she didn't have any children.

So she sent Abraham to the bed of her maid, Hagar.

And Abraham and Hagar had Ishmael.

And not long after they did, God kept his promise to Sarah as he always intended to.

And Abraham and Sarah had Isaac.

And Sarah said to Abraham, 

"Cast out this slave woman with her son.

For the son of this slave woman will not be heir with my son, Isaac." 

And so it began.

The Jews, 

The Sons of Isaac

The Arabs, 

The Sons of Ishmael

But what most people find important to remember* is that in the end the two sons came together to bury Their Father.

*I think most people also find it important to remember that the whole thing took place about 73 million years ago.

“He gets very cryptic like that. 

He's like, "Kevin , if a Big Snake gives birth to a Little Snake. . . what is that Little Snake gonna grow up to be?" 

“...a Big Snake...?" 

He's like, "Right. 

That Snake gives birth to a Snake. What's that gonna grow to be?" 

And I said , "Big Snake." 

He said , 

"Exactly, U Gotta No Who UR Father Is." 

And I'm like-- 

I don't know what that fucking means. So I'm like, 

"I hear ya..... I hear ya.... ."

Teaching a Monkey to Smoke

“The opening story frame brought us into the home of Commissioner Gordon, currently entertaining his “YOUNG SOCIALITE FRIEND, BRUCE WAYNE,” a bored young man who puffs heroically on a pipe while asking the question “WELL, COMMISSIONER, ANYTHING EXCITING HAPPENING THESE DAYS?” The middle-aged police chief was a keen smoker too, igniting a cigar that sent a miniature mushroom cloud into the air between the two.

“NO-O-,” Gordon began tentatively. Then, as if the most intriguing element of the story were a mere afterthought: “EXCEPT THIS FELLOW THEY CALL THE ‘BAT-MAN’ PUZZLES ME.” 

When Gordon was summoned to the scene of a brutal murder at a nearby mansion, Wayne tagged along, as if there was nothing at all odd about a member of the public who treated deathly serious police investigations as sightseeing trips.

Bat-Man appeared on the third page, standing on the roof in the moonlight. His stance displayed confidence; his arms were folded, and he seemed unafraid, almost laconic. The crooks recognized him, cuing readers that this adventure was not the first night out for our hero. As with Superman, we arrived after the story had already begun, groping for our seats in the dark. Almost immediately, Batman erupted into violence against the men in a rapid sequence of action panels.

In his first outing, he broke up the bizarrely complex plot of a chemical syndicate involving several murders and some money. It’s not a great story, and no matter how often I read it, I’m still left slightly in the dark as to what it was about, but the striking appearance of the hero made it unforgettable. It also established an important trend in the early Batman stories. From the very beginning, Batman habitually found himself dealing with crimes involving chemicals and crazy people, and over the years he would take on innumerable villains armed with lethal Laughing Gas, mind-control lipstick, Fear Dust, toxic aerosols, and “artificial phobia” pills. Indeed, his career had barely begun before he was heroically inhaling countless bizarre chemical concoctions cooked up by mad blackmarket alchemists. Superman might have faced a few psychic attacks, but, even if it was against his will every time, Batman was hip to serious mind-bending drugs. Batman knew what it was like to trip balls without seriously losing his shit, and that savoir faire added another layer to his outlaw sexiness and alluring aura of decadence and wealth.

In July 1939’s Detective Comics no. 29, he faced another drug-dispensing no-gooder in “The Batman Meets Doctor Death.” Doctor Death was Karl Hellfern, a seriously disgruntled middle-aged chemist and obviously a devious bastard, as indicated by the presence of a monocle. Unable to rustle up even the simplest of hair-restoring formulas, he was seriously balding but sported a devilish goatee and pointed ears, which may or may not have been hereditary. In this adventure, Batman was shot and wounded, showing that, unlike Superman, he was as mortal as the rest of us, only much more tenacious.

The ending to the story found a new note of hysteria that would enliven the best Batman adventures: trapped in his laboratory, Doctor Death fought back by inadvertently setting the whole place alight. As he realized what he’d done and was consumed by flames, the doctor lost it completely, screaming, “HA! HA! OH—HA-HA-HA—YOU—YOU FOOL!” To which Batman, pausing a moment to watch the spreading inferno, replied grimly, “YOU ARE THE POOR FOOL! HE HAS GONE MAD! DEATH … TO DOCTOR DEATH!” 

The introduction of the secret identity, given away so generously as just one more brilliant idea halfway through the first Superman story, was saved for the twist ending of the third Batman story, which kept it in line with the mystery and detective aspects of the Batman strip. 

The last two panels showed a door, creaking open from its curious position ajar until the “Bat-Man” stood revealed in full costume. There’s something genuinely strange about this dreamlike conclusion to the story, this weird emergence from the closet into the half-light. It seemed a miracle that Wayne, our chain-smoking pipe abuser, could wheeze his way out of the cupboard and down the hall, let alone spring and glide across the rooftops of Gotham, but the distinctive visual of Batman was so arresting, so visceral, he caught on with the reading public as rapidly as Superman had.”

Excerpt From

Supergods

Grant Morrison

WHITEFACE

Whiteface Clowns Like Pierrot and Columbine... that’s a whole other deal.

The Heath Ledger Joker and Jaquin Phoenix Joker are actually the iterations of The Joker to wear Whiteface; when Lt. Commander Data is accidentally transported to 19th Century San Francisco, he is mistaken for a Frenchman in pyjamas — because everyone thinks he is wearing whiteface.

It’s actually impossible to BE a WhiteFaced clown, as the origins Renaissance-Shakespearean meaning of ‘clown’ meant ‘rustic; unsophisticated, rude, rough-mannered and un-courtly peasant..... with a tan.’ Having a tan or having sun-damaged skin meant you worked in The Fields; when French Petty-nobility began paling-up their skin, it was intended to serve as a signal and convey the message that 

“I am more sophisticated than you. (Peasant.)”

 so keep that in mind when Artie Fleck paints his face.

clown (n.)

1560s, clowne, also cloyne, "man of rustic or coarse manners, boor, peasant," a word of obscure origin; the original form and pronunciation are uncertain. Perhaps it is from Scandinavian dialect (compare Icelandic klunni "clumsy, boorish fellow;" Swedish kluns "a hard knob; a clumsy fellow," Danish klunt "log, block"), or from Low German (compare North Frisian klönne "clumsy person," Dutch kloen). OED describes it as "a word meaning originally 'clod, clot, lump', which like those words themselves ..., has been applied in various langs. to a clumsy boor, a lout."

The theory that it is from Latin colonus "colonist, farmer" is less likely, but awareness of the Latin word might have influenced the sense development in English.

Meaning "professional fool, professional or habitual jester" is c. 1600. "The pantomime clown represents a blend of the Shakes[pearean] rustic with one of the stock types of the It[alian] comedy" [Weekley]. Meaning "contemptible person" is from 1920s. Fem. form clowness attested from 1801.

clown (v.)

c. 1600, "to play the clown onstage," from clown (n.); colloquial sense of "to behave inappropriately" (as in clown around, 1932) is attested by 1928, perhaps from the theatrical slang sense of "play a (non-comical) part farcically or comically" (1891). Related: Clowned; clowning.

The Majors Tom : Planet of The Apes

Taylor, I'm telling you to climb off my back.

And that completes my final report until we reach touchdown.

We're now on full automatic, in the hands of the computers.

I've tucked my crew in for the long sleep and I'll be joining them

soon.

In less than an hour we'll finish our sixth month out of Cape Kennedy.

Six months in deep space.

By our time, that is.

According to Dr. Hasslein's theory of time in a vehicle traveling nearly the speed of light, the Earth has aged nearly 700 years since we left it, while we've aged hardly at all.

It may be so.

This much is probably true.

The men who sent us on this journey are long since dead and gone.

You who are reading me now are a different breed.

I hope a better one.

I leave the 20th century with no regrets, but... one more thing.

If anybody's listening, that is.

Nothing scientific. It's... purely personal.

Seen from out here, everything seems different.

Time bends.

Space is... boundless.

It squashes a man's ego.

I feel lonely.

That's about it.

Tell me, though...

Does Man, that marvel of the universe, that glorious paradox who has sent me to the stars, still make war against his brother, keep his neighbours’ children starving?

Brent :

Taylor! 

Taylor :

You're Brent...!

Brent :

My God, Taylor! 

Taylor :

Brent! 

How in the hell did you get here? 

Brent :

Spaceship, ape city, subway--

Taylor :

By yourself? 

Brent :

No, Nova found me. 

Taylor :

Nova? Is she with you? Where? 

Brent :

I don't know. They separated us. They tried to make me kill her. 

Mutant :

Mr. Taylor, Mr. Brent, we're peaceful people. 

We don't kill our enemies. 

We get our enemies to kill each other.