We last left off with Chester the Rat spitting out the vile taste of feces from his mouth, and now it’s my turn. I have just read the worst comic book ever. It was so bad, I would even tell my neighbors to avoid it. You have no idea how much I hate my neighbors, so this book must be pretty bad for me to actually talk to them. I’m confident they don’t even know what a comic book is, let alone a book.
The book is Batman The Dark Knight III: Master Race. In 1986, Frank Miller turned the world of superheroes upside-down with his deconstruction of the Batman with Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. I was a fan. It was relevant. Yes, it was groundbreaking. In 2001, Miller returned to the well, and produced The Dark Knight Strikes Again. It was horrible. I despised it. It was garbage. Sadly, it was successful. Everyone made money. (By the way, before reading Master Race, this was the worst comic book ever.) For the sake of tapping the cash cow again without a good idea, Batman The Dark Knight III: Master Race was born.
This dreadful waste of paper is why successful old fart artists need to know when to stop. This is why I don’t want to see obese people eat butter, in the same way I don’t want to see hole-in-throat people smoke cigarettes, or worse, cigars. Watching people destroy themselves and their credibility does not warrant an audience. That’s right, Larry, even you should not support this.
While searching the internet, I was saddened to see this book get good reviews, and it appears that sales were good enough to be considered a success. I’m pretty convinced that people are not reading it. They are merely buying three copies, and bagging them in mylar, hoping their investment pays off. [FACT CHECK: It won’t. In the world of supply and demand, 450,000 copies for 200,000 fans. Supply wins.]
From this point on, Frank Miller is dead to me. When The Dark Knight Constipates IV comes out, I will avoid it the same way Miller avoids sensible taste.
ZERO STARS out of 10.