"Crises of Infinite Irks: Bad Comics Politics and Conflict Transformation"

Chapter One: Butchering Barbara Gordon

September 6th, 2026

Three days ago somebody in this prison I don't feel alone beside - rare like tartar in these wilds - hit the hole for an undetermined stay. Suddenly, as I prepped Southern-style beans and rice, hash brown casserole he gave over the goods for, dark-horse creamed spinach (one veteran convict with some rah-shah-shah culinary background slung a "****" on it) where I drained 2 cans of Popeye-weeds, stirred 3/4 can of off-brand Cream of Mushroom Soup (the other 1/4 into the DOPE casserole made with mashed tots), and 1/4 block of Eastview Farms Mozzarella Block you can grab at Family Dollar I nuked 4 minutes and stirred thrice. Roughly 1/10 the labor and cost of the beans I simmered in a foot-tub. Uncommented until I mentioned that juxtaposition. Then I got "Oh, those were great, but DAMN that creamed spinach!". Finished off with a cheesecake I made the crust with crushed fake Golden Smacks blended with the provided Graham cracker, and the guts with raisin/nut/banana trail mix and topped with a deconstructed cherry pie. His 6'4 absence without the person whose face I wanted to light up with that work robbed my moment, carrying his bowls to discover an empty rack. That gap, like the one in the top row of his teeth I never noticed until he smiled at me once. Disliking him strongly ceased for favoring him to the point I became never unhappy to see him. This gave me a new working definition of love if there's such a thing here (the planet, not the prison), and reinforced learning doesn't leave, me freshly 57, us both having Leonine birthdays. An elderly felon named Ricky smashed his portion. That tot casserole the missing link wanted was his pick of the litter.

That day fell smack-middle of three with me slapping keys over 15 hours. Writing, revising, and editing about cartoons and comics. Specifically lightning rod Barbara "Batgirl" Gordon, her shelved flick, plus "Coyote vs Acme's" success after Ketchup Entertainment's animal rescue. Stellar opening weekend, making back 15.5 m of the 50 spent, prompted Oakland Hippie's "Chick" (respect - most lawbreakers use canine derogatory pronouns) comparisons to the big screen-bliss crucial experience to "Once Upon A Time In Hollywood". Aside cute plays like " Ketchup Plays Warner", and commentary about WB being qualified as our medical staff to check pulses, I related my time with "Dog Man" earlier that week, giggling and sniffling at its daring optimism against my Dystopia-doomsday-damage, imagining un-carcerated audiences fatalism-fatigued as well. Lighten up, Hollywood, it ain't the end of the world. 'Til God says, anyway...

Prepping my piece I hollered at Mizz A., my life-preserver past the Ultimate Firewall® for a rundown of "Batgirl". But for a couple of silly sticking points, it made this Bat-Hound sit up and beg for more. Step deux had me axe her could she send me a pic of lead Leslie Grace dudded as the "Dominoed Dare-doll" (what the actual does that MEAN?) receiving an image that gave me, forgive my lapsed vernacular, the flaming hate-shits.

NOW, the description's clunk got explained along with the choice to torch the joint like the movie's baddie "Firefly". Why Brendan Fraser, kindly Hollyweird humanitarian couldn't answer aloud the question plaguing me regarding a project surrounding a hybrid of Bruce "Batman" Wayne, Peter "Spider-man" Parker, Buffy "Slayer" Summers, Blanche "The Bride" Kiddo, and Nancy Drew concocted by Bill Dozier and pals specifically to put girls' asses in seats for Batman got bombed with 90 m bucks blown. Worth 1000 words that pic, and what a pack of misguided souls did to that poor girl, making her foremost look that damn dumb while insulting everybody, yet blaming the writers? No. Choosing to Brown-wash Batgirl, unnecessarily, killed this. Before continuing, my creds:

Gay, 40 years + out from Flyover America, with a year spent training and consulting internationally - Amsterdam and Rotterdam. Final semester Sociology student at an Historically Black College. 11 years in a warehouse with Christians, Muslims, Odinists, Wiccans, Satanists, Transgender Women, Asexuals, Appalachian Meth-makers, Projects gangsters, sex offenders, Mexicans, Blacks, Whites, Amish, Asians, and about any other demographic nameable. Talking diversity? I'm living and breathing it, a qualifications-unicorn who's job hunting. Consider this a job application!

Back to Babs. Her bestie Alysia from the script is an Asian Trans Person living with her in Burnside, an eclectic Gotham hipster 'hood. Having Babs needlessly slapped with a brown coat in 2022 as "Blue Beetle" with Latino lead Jaime Reyes, her habitat was as variegated as mine. Diversity should be organic first, and not exhaustive to the point of alienation. This was severe overkill beyond the borders of the film. Anyone obtuse as to say changing her from redheaded Honkey to Hispanic diminishes Latinas with that. Ethnically and culturally that's ignorant. Addressing the clownish hair problem, the 1967 TV version was brunette with a wig. THAT, if we're going with this asinine decision would've been better. Why make civilian hair color sacred when the body behind the costume isn't? We're wanted to buy the Gotham's police commissioner not spotting the juvie Rosario Dawson clone with the flame-job hair in bat-suit is his kid matching that description? Cluttering the topography of this ideological junkyard is teeming teens dyeing their mops red to honor Bat-Chick. NOW we see why this got axed. Don't put this on those poor writers maneuvering a landscape of landmines. This is where somebody unafraid of critical thinking marrying social science becomes vital in modern American entertainment. Someone who'd like to see the mediums they love bloom and spread with audience appeal pan-dimensionally. Allow myself to introduce me. First, this display of cinematic abortion was xenophobic as a minstrel show, but avoidable as Herpes. Plus, there's an old-school Hollywood prejudice here that enabled Batgirl's last big-screen bomb!

Alicia Silverstone played a wreck of one in a wreck of a Batman (and Robin) movie reframed as prehistoric Alfred, here a closet infidel's bastard-ette, believed to be niece. Arriving the world's 3rd greatest crime-fighter sans backstory, deadbeat daddy's already whipped her up a super-suit and Batcycle. Silverstone despite probably being paid in tiny islands rejected the iconic cowl accounted to hair-pulling I believe I'd weather for them Benjies. Why the Goldi-looks? Couldn't risk redundant redheads, with Uma's Poison Ivy, the ray of sunshine on the trash dump, running off the 19-year-old male targets. Permissible prejudice around ages.

Gingephobia is Biblical, owed to Judas Iscariot, whose profile propagated clowns' countenances. Bethlehem's biggest butthole begat Bozo, Bub! Eric Cartman's crusade against the soulless is legit. That rowdiness is too. Kim, my one redheaded cousin came from the crawlspace of my aunt wilder'n a wombat, the most ornery switch off our tree, says the violent offender. She didn't lose those chompers from poor brushing, all I'm saying.

That exotic streak appeals to modern fans, though. Recalling both internet guys and the locked-down of the last decade and change, sassy fire-haired femmes are fixations beyond the confines of cult status. Why this obvious character repeats omission to me boils down to creative errors, not the figure upfront.

Between the Adam West intro of '67 and now, next in live-action was our girl ostensibly having drapes matching carpet on WB Network's "Birds of Prey" TV series based loosely on an ongoing comic, sprung from "Smallville's" success and capitalizing on "Batman the Animated Series" unprecedented level. What resulted was a hybrid cancelling both's appeal, ashamed of its genre, as Gotham isn't analogous for the farm and this occurred after the costumes came. Meet mask-less Helena Wayne who protects her secret ID by swapping black evening wear. She's also a wooden bitch but that's her ,"charm". Ugh. Babs here is a paraplegic off Joker's bullet now Bluetooth field-leader, capitalizing on her cranium as comics' first internet detective/strategist. Played here by Dina Meyer, in no way responsible for the awfulness of it all. Making an unnecessary swap here is a teen telepath, standing in for Black Canary, vintage blonde fishnet-rocking butt-stomper, played by fellow former inmate Lori Laughlin formerly of "Full House" decked in dark denim and the young psy-chick's ma minus mention of her pa. Like most else, untapped as it was likely undecided. "Buffy", having the greatest web-cult on Earth then watched like something written backwards. That genius made for a thrill-ride. This clumsy, insecure venture in its 3rd hour had the gals sipping Earl Grey poured by the same fossilized Alfred now 2 decades down, on the Clock Tower roof discovering each wanted BABIES. Maybe they should chat this in "group" with Dr. Harleen Quintzel, the Joker's squeeze/side-arm and known criminal commodity, conveniently putting that given name on her office door. As I'm given to conspiracies sometimes, quoting overlooked genius Daffy Duck - "I must have ENEMIES".

 "Birds" flew into movie-houses not long ago without Babs. Replaced by Harley here with a crap haircut. Comics' 3rd Batgirl Cassandra Cain makes the scene in this vaguely enjoyable yet underwhelming vehicle. Cass of comics is kid to a pair of deadly assassins raised like a pit-bull to kill with laser precision. Never hearing nor speaking words, reading bodies crafts her into the perfect weapon. Seeing death through her maiden mark's expiring eyes, she flees from her trainer-father, meeting Batman in "No Man's Land" - Gotham gone martial, paralyzed by an earthquake. Her heroism inspired a partnership, replacing Babs who mentors her as Batgirl. "BoP" has her a talentless thief taken under Quinn's wing whose remarkable adaptation is "Asian chick".

Oracle was produced by Alan Moore's posthumously apologized "The Killing Joke" wherein The Joker's gunshot wiped away a DOA character. DC Creative of the 1970s weren't smooth with ladies, saying the least. Batgirl became one of the worst, her sleek black look devolved into yellow on sweatsuit-gray gaudiness, slathered in bats and sharp, mannish angles robbing the potency of her chest emblem. Lacking stable characterization, confidence, and rarely against interesting villains her potential went spoiled. Her "retirement" special alongside "Joke" was one bitter, ugly finger-up to anybody left who'd loved her. Under a 1/2 decade later, John Ostrander and Kim Yale, a lovely couple charged with "Suicide Squad" gave our girl comeuppance. This rebirth for thousands, communally the disabled, became zeitgeist. Problematic when it brought her into conflict with an unforseen adversary - herself.

 Batman, the Animated Series for female comic characters was their civil rights moment. Proving the audience existed, Poison Ivy and Zatanna came off the pages the first time. Along with "Birds" movie detective Renee Montoya, Harley Quinn was born. Catwoman was popular as ever, and Batgirl finally got the TLC she deserved. What resulted was young, energetic, sharp as a Batarang, and that messy outfit straightened. Like a beloved friend seen for the first time, and fans fell for her overnight. Over at DC Comics, Oracle was the rub with lateral adoration and avatar to a deserving community. DC first tried Cain, immersed in a very 1990's look juxtaposed to BtAS' success, following the dark mystique of Spawn, Bane, Venom, etc, Cass wore an ebony all-over number without a face, intensifying her silent-but-deadly (insert gas gag here) approach.

Misunderstanding the assignment as many execs are wont, the point got missed. Tonal variety, as I began with. Readers wanted a foxy, upbeat, different style caped crusader. Because we respond to one item on a buffet doesn't mean we wanna gorge on 8 plates of only chicken at the human trough. Babs was the broccoli-raisin salad to Bruce's spicy sausage party. Cassandra's title with a strong opening team crashed the second with a slightest dip in quality. This wasn't necessarily about her, I don't think. People love her, but not filling Barbara's cowl. C.C. was chums with another Gotham Girl: Stephanie Brown, AKA Spoiler, child of another Bat-baddie, Cluemaster and girlfriend to Tim Drake, Robin of that moment. She'd replace him temporarily in those rockin' Robin Christmas colors beside Bruce briefly, being offed, brought back, and answering wishes of readers like me becoming the next Batgirl, wearing enough piping to insulate a suburb.

 Jim Lee, I <3 you plumb to pieces as El Presidente and Publisher at DC, because a fan in charge corrects mistakes like above, thinking because we dug "Identity Crisis" and "Darkest Night" the DCU needs rebooting into a psycho whorehouse bloodbath without light-switches. Said, you and I contrast deeply on costume design. Thing is, respect due, looks I love last decades, and well... Perfection to me is Darwyn Cooke's Catwoman. One glance tells me who this is and what she does without wasted strokes. Working artist economics is important, and all those lines muddy up the page. Less = more. DC and Marvel are apples and dump-trucks. My Darling Comics have timeless elegance best serviced visually simply. This comes off a century survived with Super Heroes the genre they OWN. Again, The Animated Series import can't be overstated, and Bruce Timm's elevated Batgirl ASAP eliminating repetition and harshness that Carmine Infantino, bless his heart, put there. Film's result was flawless DC exponential design.

All because a ripe figure was loved and an executive whose name escapes I read an interview with in Cinefantastique circa 1991 DEMANDED quality from the duck-wabbit season company, bringing my ire last week: "Scooby Doo" designed to hawk cereal to brats with Korean slave-wage animators, recycled real estate plots, and ankle-deep jokes getting plastered all over Boomerang's schedule over classic Merrie Melodies/Looney Tunes by architects like Tex Avery and Bob Clampett, scores by maestros like Raymond Scott with divine orchestration, all sublimely acted by Mel Blanc. It's about quality, and guarding it versus trendy disposable mediocrity. What you get filling roles designed for Whites innumerably until diversity becomes trite instead of mosaic. Comic and cartoon aficionados aren't dullards explaining Marvel's 90s bankruptcy before Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers arrived. Before that, it was a busy overdrawn, mutant mess with psychotics and subplots readership became bored with. Humanization and internal struggle, the meat of Marvel, returned and became the Super Hero leviathan that conquered the Earth.

DC's got icon power with legacies and dynasties set in an omniverse of possibility. With Gunn doing his thing, its future is beyond blinding IF clumsiness handling representation, diversity, and inclusion isn't carrying full egg cartons on skates. Moving past such means somebody who's a critical thinking, solutions-geared, objectivist in such is geared for difficult discussions that advance the conversation, so we can get to the real business: quality entertainment for vast audiences. Baby, I'm your unicorn. Let's talk.

End of Chapter One, Chapter Two Coming Soon