The Goddamn Batman v. Superman

I’m glad I didn’t take my kid to see Batman v Superman.

See, I walked out of a movie theater last night completely secure in the knowledge that Zack Snyder hates my son.

You might laugh at that or roll your eyes at the hyperbole, but it’s true. Zack Snyder and everyone involved in the production of Batman v. Superman: Oh My God, Why Won’t This End hate our kids.

Before I dive a little more into that statement let me say: I’m not going to harp on about terrible writing, editing, pacing. I’m not going to elaborate on lack of character motivation and unearned milestones that have been worn to a nub by a cadre of douche-nozzles intent on making things ‘bad-ass’. And honestly, I could write thousands of words on every single wrong detail, Easter egg, and concept, but others have done it already. There are VOLUMES worth of analysis already.

Though, Ezra Miller’s Flash? I cannot explain the rage his scraggly beard and man bun evoked within my innards. And that cheap-ass Cyborg by way of dime store Cronenberg-style horror…

Nope…not gonna do it. NOPE.

Nope. I’m just going to explain why these people hate my kid.

So, we live in a pretty fucked up world don’t we? Belgium being a stand out this past week (among the many, many horrors of the past few years), climate change, money problems, an orange-popsicle dictator vying to ruin the American democratic process. It’s a lot for an adult to take in and process. Imagine how it must feel to be a kid who hears and sees these things by proxy, or worse, first-hand.

When I was a kid, I had some rough going when it came to a few facets of my life. Nothing as dark as this bullshit movie, but still, things to work through (shit, I’m still working through some of it). What tended to help, to bring a little light into my life, was escapism. I could watch Star Wars or Superman or read an issue of Spider-Man or Batman. Those worlds, while sometimes dark, still had an optimism that could give a kid some time to imagine and dream – to build empathy or conviction. Yeah, it was fantasy, but what was wrong with indulging in the adventures of people who actively helped others? What was wrong in believing in our heroes?

To make a choice like selflessly helping others requires character, doesn’t it? But here I am; presented with a movie where the heroes are burdened by decisions they could easily have NOT made. These aren’t heroes then. These are the first-responders in it for the pension and the benefits, not the guy who wants to serve his community because he loves it or the woman who wants to ensure other people are helped in their greatest time of need.

And that’s what Zack Snyder decided was something children and adults who once were children needed to be exposed to: THE HARSH TRUTH™. See, THE HARSH TRUTH™ is the adult alternative to all those lame Marvel movies about people smiling and not enough mangled bodies lying in the rubble and infrastructure of an American city. 9/11 happened, man, and THE HARSH TRUTH™ is the only way real adults will appreciate superheroes…um, 9/11!

Fuck off, dude, we see the harsh truth daily. We sit our asses down in movie theaters to walk away from it, not have it rubbed in our face (and have it be as hollow as anything a millionaire would come up with in regards of ‘harsh truths’. Shit, you literally get to play with toys for a living; brighten the fuck up).

So Zack Snyder hates my kid because my kid dreams. My kid defaults to believe in the best of people. My kid doesn’t understand why Superman and Batman would fight when he knows they’re partners, united to help people because they’re compelled to answer the call of those too helpless against evil or tyranny.

And since Zack Snyder hates my kid, I’m assuming he hates my money too. I’ll be sure that he and his partners never see either again.

If you want to feel depressed, confused, and garner a supreme understanding of how NOT to write a film; go see this flick. If not, wait for Civil War. Shit, wait for anything else.


*emerges from cave*

Holy hell, haven’t posted since January.

It’s not for lack of wanting to blog, but man, BUSY.

Had a baby. She is awesome. I am now a father of two. It is a bit jarring, amazing, and plague-ridden.

I fucking love it.

Anyway, writey-type stuff. All good things!

Just handed in edits (probably not final, but close enough) to my upcoming novella, No Happy Endings, coming later this year from Down & Out Books.

Best described? Sperm bank robbery on the weekend of Super-storm Sandy. Nobody has a clue what the hell they’re doing. Hilarity ensues. Death by bukkake? Sort of…well, you’ll see.

You may have seen/heard about an anthology coming this April from Down & Out Books called Unloaded. This bad boy is a joy to be a part of. With proceeds going to and a focus on writing crime fiction without guns, I’m hoping folks will find it to be a fun and enlightening collection. Hell check out this group of bastards: J.L. Abramo, Patricia Abbott, Trey R. Barker, Eric Beetner, Alec Cizak, Joe Clifford, Reed Farrel Coleman, Hilary Davidson, Paul J. Garth, Alison Gaylin, Kent Gowran, Rob Hart, Jeffery Hess, Grant Jerkins, Joe R. Lansdale, S.W. Lauden, Tim O’Mara, Joyce Carol Oates, Tom Pitts, Thomas Pluck, Keith Rawson, Kelli Stanley, Ryan Sayles, and Holly West.

Seriously. Amazing lineup. AMAZING.

Big thanks to the editor, Eric Beetner for letting me in on this one.

Next projects?

Got a novel with my agent that I should be getting notes on. A little foray into something more mainstream for me. We shall see how that goes.

Halfway through the first draft of the next Blacky Jaguar novella. A little more “serious” in tone. Still lots of punching (with an entire chapter devoted to our boy beating up an entire room of people).

I’ve got two new novel ideas stuck in my craw too. They’re outlined roughly, but I’m dying to work on them.

On a short story front, still writing a few new pieces. I’ve got a story dropping in a Replacements-themed anthology based on ‘Kiss Me On The Bus’ coming soon, and will probably aim to get my ass in Thuglit again sometime this year. I like harassing good ol’ Todd Robinson.

There’s also a secret thing that is still a hard maybe, but I pray to have very good news on that soon.


Anyways, this was an excuse to do a little non-project writing and get the gunk off the gears.

Be easy,