I've always been a fan of stories that answer the age-old question, "What if?" Long before DC Comics' line of Elseworlds books appeared on the scene, there was a limited series by Frank Miller and Lynn Varley called The Dark Knight Returns.

Years later, apparently not content to leave well enough alone, DC started asking the "What ifs." What if the story in the multiple award-winning TDKR had continued? What if even more of DC’s heroes got the TDKR treatment? What if a huge internet company that cared mostly about generating large profits suddenly owned DC? What if Frank Miller had a boat payment to make?

The answers to these questions can be found in the tremendously awful pages of The Dark Knight Strikes Again. Apologies now to those who are expecting a review of the full DK2 series—I’ve only read the first issue. My brother (bless him) went to a comics shop a while back and asked the shop owner what a good Christmas gift for me might be, and the guy suggested DK2 #1. I love my brother, but that shop guy suckered him.

It's a lucky thing that my bedroom window wasn’t open when I finished this thing, because I hate to think of someone getting hit on the head when I flung it away, or worse, after reading it. As it was, it bounced loudly off the window, landing somewhere behind the bed. When it resurfaced late last year, I tried to sell it. Turns out I couldn’t even give it away. A 20-something Asian boy from El Cerrito with a Tarot: Witch Of The Black Rose t-shirt said, "Uh...no thanks. I’ll just take these issues of New Guardians.

I actually did re-read the thing several times in preparing for this review, and though stopping myself from driving fondue forks in my eyeballs afterward still seems like a questionable idea, I have some lovely examples to add into evidence at Frank Miller’s eventual heresy trial.

After the obligatory opening montage establishing just how sucky the world is without Batman around (they all think he's been dead for three years), we get a glimpse of our first new cast member. He's a caveman-like guy fighting for survival against hideous aquatic monstrosities in what turns out to be a Petri dish. Ray Palmer, the Atom, has been held captive at microscopic size and is sprung by Batman's young protégé from the first Dark Knight book (dare I call it DK1?), Carrie.

Though, instead of dressing up as the new Robin, Carrie is now the much more feminine Catgirl. I guess Miller got too many sketch requests at cons from greasy-handed fanboys asking for Carrie/Robin getting spanked by Batman. That's just gay, right? After she shows, we get a few pages of both Carrie and Ray jumping around with their asses and often their monstrously oversized feet in the air, which we know is not at all gay.

After the breakout, we learn even more about how sucky the world is. Stock trading companies use sex to advertise their services! The newscasters are all sexy women with tattoos and stuff! Some of them are even reading the news in the nude! Wow! That's sucky! I bet stuff like that will never happen in the real world, oh, say, two years before this comic is even published.

Soon we discover that Superman is still around, protecting people from crashing space shuttles and asteroids, though totally in secret. Guess why? Many pages after, we find out Luthor is the puppet master of a totalitarian US of A, and he and Brainiac not only kill off vast numbers of humanity whenever the former superheroes show their faces, they’re also holding the Bottle City of Kandor hostage. Gosh... it's too bad Superman can't rush in at super speed and grab it. Durn shame. Oh, but I’ve jumped ahead, haven't I? See how anxious I am to get to the end?

So yadda yadda yadda, we see some more of how sucky the world is (Miller seems to think that sexy female news reporters are some sort of portent of doom, as I count no fewer than 9 in this issue alone), followed by scenes of Carrie and Ray freeing Barry "The Flash" Allen from the facility where has been using his speed to generate electricity for the whole country. Why? Well, Luthor has his beloved Iris. But Batman has freed her, so it's OK. Too bad Superman could never manage that. Say, doesn’t he have an invisible friend (J’onn J’onzz?) or two?

Here is an actual exchange from the scene where Carrie gives Barry his ring with an updated uniform, a kicky short-sleeved, short-panted, black (of course) version of his old look, complete with the gi-normous boots so popular in Miller’s apocalyptic future:

Barry: You changed my outfit.

Carrie: Huh? ...Uh, yeah. The old design was really...old.

Have I mentioned that an actual human wrote this and not a computer program?

Before this nightmare ends, we're treated to the fact that Hal "Green Lantern" Jordan has left earth, Captain Marvel has aged into an impotent grandpa, and Wonder Woman, now queen of the Amazons, is not only openly in love with Superman, but also sports what I think is the book's best make-over, and the one bright spot in the book, a decidedly "Greek warrior painting from a pottery-shard" theme.

Frank Miller, when you read this (and why don't you call me anymore, Frankie?), please remember only that I thought Diana’s look was inspired, smart and very striking. Her characterization, though, was pretty much non-existent. It’s pretty clear that she was included here just so you could use those ideas you got after reading some Joseph Campbell book.

Now, if you're anything like me, at this point in your reading your eyes have rolled around in their sockets so much they need a Swedish deep-tissue massage to ever work correctly again. If you power on as I regrettably did, you’ll be treated to probably the most inexplicable scene in the whole issue, the finale: Superman invades the Batcave to stop Batman from standing in the dark the whole issue, so we can finally see his makeover.

After Superman gets attacked from some more DC Silver Age relics (Batman's Mechanical Dinosaur and Bizarro), Batman finally shows up in the flesh (up to now he’s only been a shadowy profile, and perhaps most gay of all, a black fist) and with the help of the Atom, Flash, and Oliver "Green Arrow" Queen, they beat the Kryptonian Krap out of the Kal-El. The last page is a shot of Batman, in basic grey-and-black, accessorized with massive green (presumably Kryptonite-laced) gloves, saying "Get out of my cave." I don’t know. Giant green gloves to me don’t say "Get out," they say "I got these for $6.50 at Ross Dress For Less. Too bad they don’t match!"

I’m not saying The Dark Knight Strikes Again #1 is a pandering, ill-conceived grab at the money of fans. I'm saying it's a pandering, ill-conceived grab at the money of fans with one really cool drawing of Wonder Woman. That's hardly worth the $7.95 cover price, but hey—I got it as a gift. How much did you pay for it? Uh-huh. Yeah, I’m sure Frank Miller thinks of you every time he fires up that new outboard motor on his bass boat.

Kyle Minor, formerly of West Virginia and late of San Francisco's Mission District, can only think of funny things to say about bad comics. Thankfully, there are plenty of them around.

Images & characters copyright of DC Comics, Batman created by Bob Kane, Review Copyright by Kyle Minor

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