Space Madness (Part II)

There was nothing subtle about the manner in which Tyler Rayne regained consciousness. This was not a sliding scale that ticked in increments from deep slumber to groggy recognition up to full cognizance. Not the type of slow, Sunday morning awakening that followed a tequila blackout Saturday night. Nothing about the way he came to resembled any sort of human experience. This was the creation of the universe. A bottomless void in which nothing existed. A blackness in which he himself did not even realize he existed. Perhaps he did not. There was the abyss. He was neither part of it nor separate from it. He was not a thing that could be categorized at such a base level. There was just the vast, blank space. The canvas of emptiness. 

A flash of white.

The extreme white faded to an intense brightness. His eyes burned. His brain screamed at the intrusion. He scrambled to think of a word to describe the brightness that assaulted him. He felt tendrils reaching through his mind for something that did not exist. There was no word for this. No context in which to process something as wondrous and blinding. He took a step backward, aware of his feet for the first time. His legs wobbled. The muscles were unfamiliar with the concept of walking. The heel of his boot stubbed against the hard metal floor and he stumbled. Fell. Instinct took hold. His arm reached for something to brace against the fall. He understood that he had arms and that the limbs served a purpose, but he could not remember what that purpose was. He felt the digits at the end of his arm moving. Grasping. Fingers. He had fingers. His hand grabbed something firm and cold. It slowed his descent but could not stop it. His back slammed into the same cold and firm surface. Flat. Unforgiving. He breathed in sharply. His lungs burned from the invasion of oxygen. He knew the word but it had no meaning. It was just a random thought with no point or anchor to cement it. His chest heaved beneath thick cloth. A shirt? A tunic? The cloth was dark and it rose with each labored breath. He stared into it. He could not discern its purpose.  He could not remember having worn a shirt before. Yes. Shirt. That was it. He had no recollection of wearing…

 

The beach. He had not been wearing a shirt on the beach. Sand. Sun. There had been something in the sand. He stubbed his toe.

His heel. He had tripped over his heel and fell backward into this… wall. Words and ideas and recognition flashed through Tyler’s mind as quick as his synapses could fire. Forty years worth of knowledge in forty seconds. He could feel a vein on his forehead pulsing. He drew in huge gulps of breath as fast as he could. He felt exhausted from the cerebral barrage. He remembered, though. The pain was worth it to remember. To know. To exist.

“I think I’m going to hurl.”

The voice was strained and tired. No doubt suffering from the same sort of exhausted rebirth Tyler was attempting to recover from. He looked to the source of the voice at his left. The figure was hunched over in what appeared to be a failed attempt at crawling. Hands on elbows planted firmly on the metal deck grating. The figure heaved in breaths much larger than Tyler’s. He wore a dark purple coat of some material that Tyler had never seen before. The figure raised his head from the deck and looked up at Tyler from beneath a brown pilot’s helmet. Tyler’s hands clenched into a fist. He felt his temperature rise at least ten degrees.

“Mills.”

The name came out in a growl. What followed was nothing short of a roar as Tyler jumped to his feet. Boots pounded against the metal grates in two quick steps. He bent and snatched the crumpled figure by the shoulders of his jacket and threw him against the bulkhead.

“I’ll fucking kill you, you little shit.”

Matt Mills slammed against the smooth metal bulkhead with such force that he immediately fell to a knee. The air had been knocked from his lungs. He attempted to take a breath, but found himself thrown yet again against another wall. His head snapped back against thick glass. Fortunately the pilot’s helmet served as protection against concussion. Mills drew in a single breath before a fierce and powerful forearm smashed his windpipe. He could feel himself lifted off the ground just a few inches. The toes of his knee-high boots dangled above the ground.

“The fuck did you do to us?!”

He couldn’t have answered the question if he wanted to. Part of him did. Part of him was terrified at what Tyler Rayne would do if he did not answer. Another part of him… a larger part of him, was terrified of what he might do if Tyler let him go. This was not the first time Matt Mills had been in this position, with an arm against his throat. It wasn’t even the first time the arm belonged to Tyler. It could, though, be the last. Men like Tyler Rayne were always pushing him around. Violent savages with no more intelligence than our evolutionary predecessors. The kind of brutes that communicated in grunts and beat women with clubs to drag back to their caves. These men had been pushing and shoving all his life. Mills had never done anything to deserve this treatment. He certainly had done nothing intentional to cause whatever had happened there on the beach. It wasn’t his house or his stupid fucking crystal or even his blood. All of that belonged to Tyler. Mills was just a scapegoat. He was small and meek and easy to blame. Well he was tired of taking the blame. Tired of being the scapegoat. Very fucking sick and tired.

“Tyler.”

These situations resolved themselves the same way each time. Mills would get shoved into a wall. The forearm or knife or more creative threat of violence would be shoved up against his jugular. He would struggle to answer a simple question or squeak out a quiet plea. His efforts would be in vain. A voice from behind would call out for him. A voice of reason that calmed the aggressor and removed the imminent threat. This time was no different. The soft and pleading voice that cooed from behind. There was concern in her voice. A hint of fear. She was confused. Her voice began to rise near the end of his name, almost transforming it into a question. Mills could feel the pressure on his esophagus lessen for a moment. Tyler could have let him go. He could have backed away and turned his attention to consoling the woman. To finding a solution to their problem. He could also ignore Angelica Brooks completely and focus his energy on the pointless task of threatening Matt Mills. 

“Whatever you did to us, I swear to Hoyt, I will end—”

“TYLER!”

Some women refused to be ignored. The scream was an effective mixture of frustration and hysteria. It had the depth and force of something furious. The kind of authoritative boom that commands attention. It was also a shrill and high-pitched cry that no longer attempted to hide the edge on which she dangled. The two syllables alternated between taking control and losing it so fast that he had no choice but to take notice. He could not ignore that kind of distress. 

Mills had been in this situation often enough to brace himself. The pressure was released without warning. The strength and ferocity that had held him against the cold metal wall had turned to compassion. It had turned from him and left him hanging inches above the ground with no support. So he fell. Prepared, though, Mills had his feet ready to absorb the slight impact. He would not add to his embarrassment by tumbling to the floor like a buffoon. 

Tyler Rayne turned to speak with Angelica Brooks, but found quite quickly that he had no words prepared for what he saw. Everything had been so… intense when he awoke that he had not been able to absorb all of the information properly. There had been no intellectual process. He’d gone into a mad rage the moment he recognized Mills and… that was it. He realized now that the itch in the back of his skull was the careful stitching of details as his mind attempted to process the surroundings. The cool metal walls. The grate flooring. The unusual clothing. The sheer volume of quiet that surrounded them. His senses had noticed all of this and a dozen other things. His mind attempted to place these pieces into some semblance of a realistic picture. Nothing added up. Now, staring through  a window the size of most apartment walls into the vastness of space, Tyler had no choice but to accept that there was not a realistic picture to be assembled.

“Holy shit.”

Space. As in outer fucking space. The final gods damned fucking frontier. None of it made a lick of sense. He just stood there and stared, unable to come up with more than the two words. The three of them stood in a viewing room of some sort. It was huge. There was a fully stocked bar on the back wall, not far from where Tyler had been threatening Mills, though at a glance he could not recognize any of the bottles or brands on the shelves. A couple of tables and one long bench all oriented toward facing the window through which Tyler now stared. Angelica was sitting on the edge of the bench, leaning forward with her hands over her mouth. If she knew she had gotten his attention, she did not show it. He stepped forward. It was more walking toward the window than her, but he was aware of her presence in his peripheral vision and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder when he stepped up beside her. Angelica’s hand reached up to meet his. 

“Where the hell are we?”

The answer was obvious and expansive. The viewing window looked out on an endless black. The twinkle of distant stars added both light and some slight movement to the otherwise intimidating nonexistence of the dark canvas. 

“Space, sugar bear. What’s it look like?”

Katterina Wylde sauntered down the hall with a confidence that Tyler certainly did not share. She wore a tight black catsuit of the same leatherish material as his coat. Thigh-high boots pinned at the top with holster straps that firmly secured two firearms to her side. From what bits of the stock and grip he could see, the guns did not resemble anything he would recognize. She wore another holster strapped across the back and around her arms, with two much smaller and easier to conceal weapons resting next to her breasts. Katterina smiled as she approached. This is when Tyler noticed that her lips looked a little thinner. Her mouth, in general, smaller. Her teeth much sharper. She brushed her dark hair back with a gloved hand to reveal cheekbones that sat noticeably higher than normal. Her eyes were as black as the expanse of space outside the window. While this was not entirely unusual for her, it appeared to be a much more permanent infliction than normal.

“Like the new look, Ty?”

“It’s… different.”

“I feel stronger. Like… I dunno. Powerful. I can feel it tingling beneath my skin. Plus, I still have a smokin’ fucking body. I could get used to it.”

Just like that, he was back. Seeing Katterina, even this weird slightly alien version of Katterina, was enough to bring him back around. The two of them had been in some weird shit before. This was no different.

OK. It was very fucking different. But the principle was the same.

“Might have to. I’m assuming this isn’t a joke.”

He jerked a thumb toward the window. Katterina shook her head.

“I checked a couple of the other rooms. We have sleeping quarters at the end of the hall. There’s a kitchen beyond that. Small operating room on our side of the quarters. There’s a hatch that drops down into a cargo bay down there, too. And what I’m assuming is a hall that leads to the cockpit just around the corner. Haven’t checked it out yet.”

“So spaceship.”

“Spaceship.”

“And you two are just OK with this?”

Angelica Brooks rose to her feet. She turned and pointed at them. This was ridiculous.

“You fell on the book, didn’t you?”

The question caught her off guard. She struggled to think of what book he might be referring to. Or why it would matter at a time like this. A book certainly wasn’t going to do them much good in the situation now. Angelica closed her eyes. Her head was spinning. None of this made sense. The book. There was a book. The one with the… She looked up at Tyler. He nodded toward the window. Katterina was suspiciously quiet given her rather upbeat attitude a minute ago. Angelica turned toward the expanse once again. She could see her reflection in the thick glass. She looked like herself. Moreso than Katterina, at any rate. No. There was something off. The clothes she, of course, did not recognize. Khaki pants and jacket over a black tunic. Boots and gloves of the same brown color and material as Tyler’s jacket. Perhaps they all shopped at the same futuristic leather store. More than that, though. Angelica moved forward, closer to the reflection. She leaned in to start at herself. At the strange mark on her forehead. The eye. That horrible eye from the cover of that book was now emblazoned on her forehead. It looked like a brand. She now noticed that it burned a little, too. 

“What the… Oh. Oh God. What the fuck is… what happened to me?”

Angelica stumbled backward. She wanted to reach up and feel the hideous scar on her forehead. She could not bring herself to touch the damned thing. She almost fell. Tyler caught her and held her steady. No. Angelica felt the hair brush against her face. Not Tyler. Katterina.

“It’s OK. You’ll be fine. We just need to figure out what happened. Then Ty and I can undo it and get us all back to normal.”

Angelica could do nothing more but nod. She was too stunned to manage more than that. So she did not try. She listened quietly as Tyler and Katterina attempted a solution.

“I always wanted to be Han Solo.”

Perhaps solution was the wrong word.

“Well I’m not overly fond of being your Chewbacca. Even if I do make a sexy fucking Chewbacca.”

“You do. OK. What the fuck. We were at the beach house and Mills… shoved me?”

“Where is that little prick, anyway?”

Tyler turned back to the wall where he’d left Mills, but the man was not there. In fact, Tyler did not see him anywhere. From Katterina’s description, the ship did not seem small. Plenty of places for Mills to go. Or hide. Regardless, though, he would not be leaving the ship. Tyler shrugged and returned to the conversation.

“The crystal. I fell and cut my hand on the crystal.”

“So the crystal teleported us to space?”

“Something like that. Best I got. You have any idea what the fuck that thing was?”

“No. I told you. I just grabbed a bunch of shit from The Fallen and ran. I figured most of it was bullshit. For every legitimate mystical object those assholes had, there were like ten fake pieces of shit Ezra bought in Tibet or Bangkok from some creepy little fuck with a strange tale and a cheap price.”

“Well this one fucking worked.”

“Yes. I noticed that.”

“The Shandarla Shard.”

Angelica did not know how she knew the name of the crystal. She just did. Tyler and Katterina both looked at her. No. Not her. The brand on her forehead.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Bloody hell. I know that name. Shandarla. She was a goddess. You know, supposedly. Goddess of vengeance and wrath… but personal. Like blood feuds, I guess. It’s weird to explain.”

“Try.”

“There was a cult in Belfast back in… ’98? I had a friend who called me in about some murders out in some of the outlying villages. Her sister lived out there and she was afraid something would happen to her. It had all been kept quiet, but an unusual number of women  had been found murdered within this like two or three month span. So we start digging around. We found a cult. The Sisters of Shandarla. Wacky bitches, obviously, but they believed that everyone on the planet has a nemesis. It’s like a soul mate, but someone you hate.”

“Like you and Devin.”

“Yeah. Like that. Bitches believed that all of us were tethered to this other soul. This person we were destined to despise. The Sisters believed that those who killed their Nemesis were given the power of that person. Their essence or soul or whatever. The goddess Shandarla blessed the victor of this eternal conflict with the power of their fallen nemesis. Seemed like bullshit at the time. Fucking women just went around and hacked up anyone they’d ever fought with. There was nothing mystical about it. Seemed like another bullshit cult at the time, but…”

“But?”

“Well I don’t fucking know. How many Shandarla’s can there be, though? It’s gotta be something.”

“He’s right.”

Angelica turned from the two of them in an attempt to hide the pain. She could feel tendrils reaching through the darker places of her mind. Knowledge she had never intended to possess shoved into the cracks and crevices of her brain when she’d fallen on that book. It was… uncomfortable, accessing the information. But she could feel it in there. The nagging feeling that she knew something but could not remember. So she attempted to remember. And attempting to remember something she had never actually known, but suddenly knew, caused a fair amount of discomfort. Tyler would have been too concerned with that to see the bigger picture. They needed to know. So she turned away and hid the mild contortion in her face as she pressed into darker and unknown corners.

“The shard… it… fuses with a, um… a… Seeker, by a blood sacrifice.”

Tyler closed his fist in reflex to that last bit. The crystal shard had cut straight through his palm. So that’s what started all this. Blood sacrifice.

“Wait. Fused?”

“Yes. Like… me and the book.”

Tyler rushed to pull the glove off his hand. He stared down at his palm. The wound remained wide open, though he felt no pain. The purple crystal rested right inside his palm, shining out from under the wound. Even the skin on the back of his hand glowed a faint purplish hue.

“Mother fuck.”

“The blood is a tribute. It proves that the Seeker is willing to sacrifice to Shandarla to gain the powers of his enemies. It proves he is willing to do whatever it takes to seize that power. The shard is a portal and a vessel. It transports the Seeker to another realm.”

“Realm?”

“Yeah. Ugh. Um… dimension, maybe? This is… I can’t find all of it. Each realm is an incomplete duplicate of the other. The same life force. The same spirits. But the realms… evolve along their own lines. The gods do not interfere in the course a realm will take. The Seeker is taken to another realm where he replaces the spirit of his… Other.”

“This is getting weird. Even for me.”

“No shit. OK. So Mills cut me and the blood opened this fucking portal to another realm. Dimension. An alternate timeline or universe or some shit. Right?”

“I think so. Yes. Maybe.”

“And I assume by proximity you all got sucked along with me. So we come to this dimension and possess the body of our alternate dimension selves. I’m guessing that’s the Other.”

“Sure. Um… uck. Sorry.  Yes. I can’t translate exactly, but that seems… that feels right.”

“Shiny. So how the fuck do we get out of here?”

“The Sisters were right. If you kill your Nemesis, you inherit their power.”

“Like Highlander.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“Way before your time, kid.”

“The shard opens a portal to different… realms so that you can kill your Nemesis and take their power.”

“So there are alternate realities with alternate versions of all of us. And I can go into any of them and kill my Nemesis to gain his power? So for every reality I enter…”

“No wonder Jakob was such a tough piece of shit.”

“OK. No problem. All I gotta do is find my Nemesis and kill him.”

“We’re in the middle of fucking space. He could be anywhere.”

“No. The shard brings the Seeker within reach. Shakur has to be close.”

Tyler and Katterina exchange a quick, but doubtful, glance. Not quick enough. Angelica notices and goes on the defensive.

“He’s here. Or… somewhere. He has to be.”

Another look between the two.

“He’ll be here. In the meantime, we need a plan. Anyone know how to fly this fucking thing?”

“You should. We absorb some of the memories and knowledge of our Other.”

“Yeah. C’mon, Ty. How did you not know that? Dipshit.”

“I will drop your ass out a fucking airlock like a gods damned xenomorph.”

“You don’t have the power loader to try.”

“I… really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Wild Rain.”

“What?”

“The name of the ship. We named our ship Wild Rain.”

“Of course you did.”

“He’s right. We did. I… remember it. This is fucking weird.”

“OK. So if we bought this ship, we can fly it. Just need to remember how. B, go see if you can find Mills and the both of you get ready to GTFO. Katt and I are gonna figure out how to remember to fly a spaceship.”

“We’re also going to figure out how to open a bottle of space tequila.”

“Also that.”

“But I want some space tequ—”

“Nope. You’re our profit. Gotta keep your head clear so you can remember all the mystical bullshit for us.”

“I really hate that fucking book.”

“Mills. Please.”

“Fine.”

Angelica grew sullen, but marched down the hall nonetheless. Tyler turned back to Katterina, but the Dark Angel (Alien?) was three-quarters of the way to the bar. He sighed and followed.

“So this is a right fucking mess.”

“Why you think I’m going straight to the booze?”

If there was anything the two of them knew, it was alcohol. Also sex and violence. But booze, too. There was no bar, no matter how futuristic or foreign, that Katterina could not master. She threw down two shot glasses that hovered just above the bar and poured out a blue liquid. The alcohol fizzled and smoked when it touched the glass. She smiled.

“So Uni and I got approved.”

Katterina choked on her shot. A little lead-in would have been nice for that one.

“You’re shitting.”

“No. That’s why I asked everyone to come over. Was gonna tell you all at once.”

“Jesus, Ty.”

“Uh huh.”

“So when’s… um… when’s it official? Or whatever? Do they just, like, put the kids in a basket on your doorstep?”

“Something like that. Couple weeks, I think. The preliminary papers are through. So we can do it. Now we just have to… find ones we like.”

“I hope you don’t talk to Lindsay like this. It makes it sound very weird.”

“She said the same thing.”

Katterina pushed the shot forward.

“Celebration drink.”

He chuckled. The two tapped their glasses and swallowed their drinks. Strong. Definite burn. Slight peppermint aftertaste. Also… blueberries. 

“Thanks. We should, uh… get this thing moving.”

She nodded an agreement. Tyler left t he bar first, marching straight toward where she had suggested the cockpit might be. Katterina followed. She brought the bottle with her.

“You remember why we’re out here?”

“I remember running from something. That’s about it. Something… black.”

“The Black Tide.”

“You think it’s him?”

“Who else would it be? You know how he is. Loves to make me suffer.”

“So he’s probably looking for us right now.”

“Yep.”

“We have a plan?”

“Nope.”

“So same sitch as always.”

“About that. Yeah.”

“Nice to know that even in an alternate reality, things never change.”

The cockpit was exactly where Katterina had thought it would be. There was a surprising sense of familiarity when the two of them walked in. They went right to the appropriate seats and started flipping switches and dials. Katterina’s fingers blazed across the command console to bring up a holographic chart of some sort. She put her hand up to the chart and began swiping through readouts. Tyler continued to push buttons and turn dials and do other sorts of things that looked like he might actually know how to fly a spaceship.

“The worm drive is overheated. No permanent damage, but we’ll have to change out the core before we can make a jump.”

“OK. Assuming I can remember how to do that, sounds easy enough.”

“We’ve got an extra core—”

“In the cargo hold.”

Tyler pushed himself out of the seat and moved to exit the cockpit just as Angelica Brooks was entering.

“I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Whatever. It’s not like he could go far. I gotta make some repairs. Sit tight here with Katt and we’ll be up and running in no time.”

Alarm klaxons began to sound throughout the cockpit. Katterina was quick to shut the sirens off, but the flashing red lights persisted. Tyler was about to ask what was happening, but the view from the cockpit gave a very clear impression of the situation. A large ship had just appeared on the far end of space. Well, the space they could see. It had to have been a battle cruiser of some sort. At least ten times the size of Wild Rain. It loomed over a quarter of the open space they could see from the cockpit. The battle ship lumbered forward as smaller ships dropped out of lightspeed behind it. A half dozen medium-sized frigates  (making them about five times that of the Wild Rain) and another three or four small freighters (about the same size as their ship). The three of them stared at the flotilla in disbelief.

“I think we’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“That, my dear, is The Black Tide.”

“Oh. Well… of course. That explains everything.”

“You said the shard dropped us close to my Nemesis. There he is.”

“I really, really fucking hate being your friend sometimes.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah. It sucks. So…. out of curiosity, B, what exactly happens if we die here?”

“I, um… I don’t know. Is that… is that a thing we’re concerned about?”

“You did look out that window, right? You really think any of us are going to survive this?”

“I might.”

Katterina was flashing through displays and readouts to bring up some sort of map that would give them an idea of what was going on. The Wild Rain represented the focal point of the expanding cone. There was a purple cone that extended out from there representing the ship’s offensive range. The giganamous battleship and the navy of doom stopped about a freighter’s width outside of range. The three of them looked out and watched as thousands of silhouettes poured from the ships like a flood and raced straight for the Wild Rain. Katterina was at the controls again. Missiles launched and laser turrets pounded from the front of the ship. 

“This is a stationary turret, Ty. I doubt they’re just going to fly straight into it. We need a fucking plan. Now.”

“What the hell are those things?”

A secondary holo display appeared with the scanner results of the hostiles. Not ships. Creatures. The silhouette appeared humanoid but also bat-like. Powerful arms and legs with barrel chests and large wings that extended out from their backs. Each of them appeared to be carrying a laser cannon of some short. Most of them were firing at the ship right now.

“Gods damn Annihilus wave. We need shields.”

“We need a plan!”

“Oh sweet baby Jesus…”

“B, relax. We have turrets. Do you know how to use them?”

“I… I don’t know… I can’t…”

“DO! YOU! KNOW! HOW! TO USE THEM!”

“Ye… yes? Yes.”

“Then get to them and blast any of those Annihilus lookin’ fuckers out of space before they tear us apart.”

“But… I…”

 

“GO! NOW!”

Angelica took another second to look back at the ships. She could see nothing but the flapping wings of the aliens. That was motivation enough for her to run like hell toward those guns.

“Plot us a course. I don’t care where the fuck we’re going but we need to go somewhere. I’ll fix the worm drive and then we’re the hell out of here.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, Ty.”

“There’s an intercom in the engine room. Soon as that drive’s fixed, I’ll give you a call. You hit that button soon as you hear my voice. And get us turned away from those ships. These gods damned freaks shouldn’t be a problem but we’re not about to jump through a dreadnaught into hyperspace.”

“Ty, if something…”

“It won’t. You know a few maneuvers. You can lose them.”

“Sure. Just list lazily to the left.”

“Now you’re talkin’.”

He sure as fucked hoped those wouldn’t be his last words to her. The ship was jostling with the impact of a thousand handheld cannons. The shields would hold for awhile, but not long enough to get out without that drive fixed. He hustled over down the hall to the hatch that Katt had mentioned earlier. Without thinking, he jumped right down the hatch and into the cargo hold. The drop was a little farther than he had anticipated. Tyler rolled his ankle when he hit the cargo deck. He choked back a squeal of pain and forced himself to push forward. He limped as fast as he could over to a secured locker in the corner. He punched in Lindsay Troy’s birthday on the holographic keypad and the locker opened. Without even bothering to take inventory of the other stock, Tyler grabbed a spare coolant core and reeled around… right into the barrel of a high-powered laser pistol. 

“Mills.”

“I want off this thing.”

“Don’t we all?”

“Look. I don’t care what fucking game you guys are playin’, OK? It’s not funny anymore. I just wanna get off this stupid thing and go home. I don’t care about your jokes. I don’t care about your games. I just want the fuck outta here. I just wanna go home, Rayne.”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to do, man. Just let me pass and…”

“NO! You fucking get me of this thing right FUCKING NOW! I am tired of you assholes pushin’ me around and picking on me like I’m some kind of—”

The ship rocked to the left from a rather concentrated impact.

“Really not the time for this, Mills.”

“I. Want. Off.”

“I get that this is hard to believe, but we’re really in fucking space here. This is like some sort of alternate dimension or some shit. I really just need to get over to that room there and replace this here coolant core on the—”

“SHUT UP! JUST… shut up. This can’t be fucking real. OK? OK?!  We can’t just magically fucking be in space, you fucking cock bag. Just… just let me off, man. I just want to leave. Let me go home.”

“I’m trying.”

“BULLSHIT!”

“Oh fuck this shit.”

Tyler jumped forward, leaning toward the left and out of the barrel’s firing range. Which was a great idea because, no shit, Matt Mills pulled the trigger on that sidearm and loosened a red laser right where Tyler’s head had been. Tyler couldn’t move so well with the sprained ankle, which he had forgotten about until just now. So he fell straight to the floor. As he did so, he smashed the coolant core into the side of Matt’s knee. Mills crumpled to the ground, dropping his weapon. He scrambled toward Tyler, but a punch to the side of the head with that core made short work of the interviewer. 

“Sorry, Mills. I really, really am, man.”

Tyler pushed himself up through sheer force of will, gritting his teeth through the pain and agony racing up from his ankle. The hobbled as fast as he could to the engine room. The worm drive was in the back corner. Tyler’s leg gave out just over the threshold, and he fell face first to the floor. The core slipped out of his hands and spun across the engine room floor. It stopped right at the corner of the drive. Convenient. Tyler used some of the machinery in the room to pull himself vertical again. The ship was blasted to the right this time and he tumbled toward the wall. Away from the worm drive.

“Fucking hell. C’mon, Katt.”

“RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”

That certainly did not sound good. Matt Mills was through the door and on top of Tyler before the latter could even turn to face. Mills tackled him at full speed. Tyler tumbled back, his shoulder slamming into the wall. He collapsed to the ground with Mills on top of him. Mills unleashed a fury of punches down on Tyler from the mount position. This was, in any dimension, a first.

“I. WANT. OUT. OF. HERE.”

Each word was a brutal fist to the cranium. The punches were wild and uncontrolled. One on the forehead. One behind the ear. One just below the temple. Mills was just swinging. Not as effective as it could be, but with the adrenaline and anger fueling him, he still had Tyler Rayne seeing stars. Rayne was losing it. One moment he could see Mills, the next was all black. He couldn’t remember why he felt like shit until the next punch landed. Concentrate. Tyler forced himself to concentrate. The attack seemed wild, but each punch was measured. Pull back. Pause. Release. There was a slight arc to his punch that added a little time between the release and the contact. Tyler took three more blows to the head while he measured. The fourth never landed. Tyler’s palm flashed upward, slamming into Matt’s nose with bone crushing force. Literal bone crushing force. The explosion of blood from the broken nose was immediate. Mills stumbled backward, scrambling for an escape. Tyler pulled himself back to his feet. Mills was standing, too. Once again with that laser pistol in his hand. Tyler grabbed the pistol with his left hand. Mills fired again. The laser tore through Tyler’s jacket. Both of them smelled burned flesh. Tyler yanked the pistol forward. And Mills with it. A half step to the side and a quick maneuver gave Tyler the advantage. He stood for a second with Mills in a front face lock. Mills tried to push against Tyler’s chest. His arm. Anything to get free. But Tyler had a firm grip. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and kicked Mills in the same knee he’d injured earlier. Mills dropped as Tyler pulled upward. A much louder cracking than just the nose echoed in the small engine room. For a moment, Tyler held the limp body in the front face lock. He whispered a small apology to Mills and then let the body fall to the floor. Tyler stumbled over to the worm drive and pulled out the old coolant core. He shoved the new one into place and reached up for the intercom.

“Get us the fuck outta here.”

The ship lurched forward. The force was so great that Tyler was thrown right out the engine room door. The walls of the cargo bay began to blur. The world went black…

Christopher Nolan Hates Batman

Avast, ye mateys, there be spoilers ahead.

So after the last blog, it seems appropriate to address The Dark Knight Rises now that I've seen it. Interestingly, some of the things I mentioned were incorporated. Some of them, sadly, were not.

Christopher Nolan's Batman might be the dumbest fucking superhero to ever grace a movie screen.  I'm even willing to consider characters such as Blankman as superheroes just to illustrate how absurdly stupid Batman is in The Dark Knight Rises.

I can't decide which part of this film I find more surprising. The blatant disregard Christopher Nolan has for the character of Batman, or the blind love with which people seem to be embracing this Batman. Even people that I know are Batman fans. Comic book fans.

Before I get too far, I want to make clear that I liked this movie. I think it was a great movie, in most respects. It has some fantastic characters, crafted with depth and care. It manages to give multiple nods to the source material (the Batman comics) while still maintaining that real world vision that Nolan has created for this series. It fulfills the scope of the films so far and delivers, as most all critics have said, a fitting end to the series.

I don't have a problem with that. All I have a problem with is Batman, (and his absurd lack of a secret identity in this movie). But before I rant on and on about that, I want to point out some of the cool things I liked about The Dark Knight Rises.

Bane is a badass. Now I've complained time and again how Joker was, while an awesome character, a terrible villain in The Dark Knight. He comes off far more as an anti-hero (just check the number of posters and t-shirts you've seen of Heath Ledger's Joker compared to Christian Bale's Batman) than a proper villain. This Bane fella, though... now that's a villain. And one that, for the most part, is a fair representation of his counterpart in the comics. Of course he isn't as physically intimidating, but I'm willing to sacrifice that. Tom Hardy is still a big, intimidating dude. He's just not ridiculous comic book big. I'm cool with that.

I'll admit that I hated the mask when I first saw pics awhile back. It's grown on me since, and I liked the filter used on his voice for the film. Had a Darth Vader thing going on there, which I support. In the comics, Bane is an intelligent, physically frightening individual. He is just the same in this movie. Now there could be some arguing made as to whether the plot was his or Talia's, but the vast majority of the movie pushes that this was all Bane's doing. So he's an evil mastermind who can more than hold his own in a fight. He snaps Batman over his knee and takes over Gotham. All of this is more or less in line with what happened in Knightfall. Nolan even came up with an acceptable back story for the mask. This deviates far from the comics origin, but it works to ground the mask in this world he created. And it does give a mild relation to the comics, (Bane's constant use of a drug to keep going). As movie adaptations go, this is a solid transfer of both a character and a storyline.

The thing I most dig about Bane is that he never doubts. From the first scene on the plane, for the next two hours or so (right up until Batman returns from The Pit), Bane is absolutely confident his plan will succeed. It's not a matter of faith or cockiness. It is a matter of fact. The manner in which he speaks. The manner in which he carries himself. It's all particular and well-placed and even. He's not a lunatic or a madman. He's just a man fulfilling a well-crafted plan. He never once doubts the outcome. This, to me, is more frightening than a villain like the Joker. With the Joker, anything could happen. Even the Joker didn't know what it would be. He's dangerous because he's unpredictable. Bane knows exactly what will happen. He knows what will happen is exactly what he has planned. He knows that nothing you do will change that, because he knew what you were going to do before you did it. He accounted for your actions as part of his plan. That's terrifying. You can punch a dude like the Joker and stop him. Bane predicted you would punch him. He counted on it. He wants you to. It's a part of the plan. You can't stop that.

So Bane was cool. And Catwoman was, too. The portrayal of Selina Kyle/Catwoman was marvelously done to ride that fine line between friend and foe that has become so iconic in the books. She's not just a villain. In this movie she even seems to have proper motivation. Or at least one we can relate to. She's got the same spirit and fire that we've seen in most incarnations of Catwoman. The sex appeal isn't overdone here. Yeah, I know, she's wearing a skin tight suit for 80% of the movie... but at least it doesn't have a zipper half unzipped threatening to spill her tits out. I mean, all things considered, this is a less sexed up Catwoman, which is nice. And the visor pushed up to make wears worked surprisingly well. I didn't like the idea at first, but seeing it in action works. The thoughtful inclusion of "ears" that still make sense within this world is a nice touch.Catwoman has a couple of those. The addition of Holly as a pseudo-sidekick. The usefulness of her heels, which is still ridiculous, but at least warrants a bad reason for wearing them other than to look good. All of it works to stay true to a comic book character while still finding a plausible representation of that character in this universe.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt was, as always, damn good. I'll probably be arguing that his character was the true hero of this film, (similar to my argument for Joker as the hero of The Dark Knight). Now we can quibble about whether a kid who sees Bruce Wayne's angry face would figure out he was Batman, but hey... whatever. It doesn't bother me that much, (for another reason I'll get to later). So this dude named Blake figured out who Batman is, (I'd like to note that Tim Drake also figured out who Batman is. I assume the name resemblance was not coincidence.) and believes in the cause. He's a strange mirror of Batman himself, an orphan who grew up to fight crime (in this case, as a cop). JGL is good in damn near everything, something that my friend and I have been telling anyone who will listen since we watched Brick. So no surprise, he's good in this, too. His arc is not new (good cop in a bad town), but it's done well and convincing and I really believe that Blake is trying to do the right thing. Even more than Batman, most of the time.

That's the new characters, right? I'm not going to bother talking about Miranda/Talia since she has no real development until the last fifteen minutes or so. I will point out the nice touch of having Talia and Bruce Wayne hook up (another nod to the comics), even if it didn't entirely seem to fit.

So there's all the good stuff. Christopher Nolan introduces a bunch of new characters and uses them to fulfill a rather grand and exciting plot (albeit with a few small holes). Overall, this is great stuff. I liked the movie. I'll watch it again. It stands as my favorite of this trilogy. That all said, the greatest downfall of The Dark Knight Rises, and the series as a whole, has been Batman. He's a fucking tool.

Batman is known, in the comics, as The World's Greatest Detective. WORLD'S. GREATEST. DETECTIVE. As I mentioned last time, this is what I love about Batman. He's smart. He's one of the smartest people on the planet. The reason Batman is so intimidating, the reason he's such a great superhero and enduring character, is because he's so gods damned smart. If people loved Batman just because he punched stuff, he'd be no more popular or beloved than the Hulk. If people loved Batman because he knows martial arts, than all the kids would be dressing up as Shang-Chi for Halloween. The thing that makes Batman awesome is that he's super intelligent AND super badass. I could sit here and list off a dozen other superheroes that have one of those aspects and aren't near as popular. Hell, you probably wouldn't even know half of them. Seriously, take a vote... who knows Hank Pym? How about Mister Terrific?

Now I'm even going to ignore the fact that the Batman in Nolan's movies is kind of a terrible fighter. These movies aren't about fight scenes, so the fact that they're not amazing is of no consequence. What matters is that Nolan's Batman is a fighter. He has that half of the persona covered. And then makes up for the other half (the intelligent half), with more fighting. So let's take a moment to look at just how stupid this Batman is.

The Dark Knight Rises takes place eight years after the death of Harvey Dent. So the last time we saw Batman was the last time anyone in Gotham saw Batman. And that was with him fleeing the scene of a crime. You know, running. On two good legs.

Since then, Bruce Wayne has become a crazed hermit. People spread strange rumors about what it is he does in this giant mansion all alone. As the movie progresses, we find that Wayne Enterprises is failing because of Bruce's general neglect of the world (and his refusal to use this fission reactor thing for clean energy). A lot of the charities and things he used to fund have stopped getting funded. The movie itself is telling us that Bruce Wayne is not smart enough to run his own company or manage his own money. Regardless of the reason, negligence or sorrow or whatever, this man has let  his name and legacy just fall into the mud. He is risking the jobs of hundreds of Wayne Enterprises employees by not doing his. And if all that isn't enough, he later hands a relative stranger the keys to his company in a moment of absolute desperation. These are terrible, horrid business decisions. For all intents and purposes, he is failing at all aspects of his life.

And he has a limp. I'm not sure when that happened (note the fleeing he did the last time we saw him), but OK, whatever. Selina steals his mother's necklace and Bruce does his ONE bit of detective work in the movie (you'll remember he shot some bullets into bricks in The Dark Knight as his one trick for that film) to figure out who she is. Shit goes down and Batman comes out of retirement to stop Bane (and track down Catwoman, it seems).

Now let me take a moment to go back to that whole John Blake knows who Batman is thing. Batman disappeared after the death of Harvey Dent. Has not been seen since. Around the same time, Bruce Wayne becomes a shut-in. He hasn't been seen or spoken to in more or less the same amount of time. Catwoman steals a necklace around the same time Bane appears (all according to Bane's plan, of course). Which means that Bruce Wayne figures he should get both his personas out there and figuring out what's up. Not only did Batman and Bruce Wayne disappear at around the same time, they suddenly reappear within the same week? I'm surprised that Blake and Bane are the only two people who figured this one out. It doesn't take a great deal of intelligence to at least see the amazing coincidence in that. It would at least make someone suspicious, I think.

So Batman has provided a good deal of circumstantial evidence as to his identity. The fact that Bruce Wayne and Batman both disappeared and reappeared at the same time might not be damning evidence... but it's suspicious enough that anyone willing could track down other coincidences, like Batman's original emergence not long after Bruce Wayne returned from years of wandering the globe, or the surprising amount of tech and gadgets that would cost millions of dollars to create/fund and the not so illogical jump that Wayne Enterprises is the only company in Gotham with those sorts of resources, and it's owner, the only guy with that kind of money, (a similar argument could be levied at the comics, too). There are a lot of little pieces that someone could use to put this puzzle together. And the re-emergence in this film is one of the biggest.

But let's ignore that, (for as much as we can without pointing out there's no valid reason for Bane to know who Batman is, unless through the League of Assassins, which even then is a stretch given that it didn't seem Ra's al Ghul told or had time to tell anyone, and he had excommunicated Bane from the League, and Talia could give a shit less about her father at the time so they probably weren't on speaking terms, either).

Bruce Wayne proceeds to do what he does best: delegate.

"Hey, Lucius. Good to see you. Look, I know I've been gone for like eight years and left you here hanging by your balls to run this company I'm letting sink... but you think you could show me some of that cool shit? You know, the 'spelunking' gear. We still have that, right? I might need some of it to do important hero shit. You're still good with running my almost bankrupt company, right? Dude. I know you would be. Thanks."

"Hey, Alfred. Look, could you, um... do some detective shit and find out who this Bane fella is? I mean, I'd do it myself, but he's obviously not a hot piece of ass like that maid that stole my mother's necklace. It took me two seconds to figure out who she is, and now that I know, I'm going to go stalk the fuck out of her with BOTH of my personalities. That's pretty much eating up all the free time I have. So just do me a solid and find out all you can about this Bane guy and get back to me."

Let me take a step back from Batman to look over at Iron Man. I'm going to bitch and complain about how Nolan's Batman is a fucking dumbass and not even kinda smart at all. But I want to do a short and simplified comparison of these two characters to illustrate this point.

Do me a quick favor and think about the Iron Man movies. We'll even throw The Avengers in there to make an even three films for each character. Think about the number of times you see Tony Stark in those movies. Not Iron Man, but Stark. When he's not doing superhero shit. Now think about the percentage of that time you see him either building shit or in a lab, presumably building shit. I would contend that at least half of his scenes take place in that workshop with him doing... something. I don't even need to know what it is. All I need is the premise that Tony Stark is a genius. Show me an instance where he uses that genius intellect once or twice. Then you just put him in a place where he could be doing things, and I'll make the leap that it's genius type shit for myself. For all I know, when Stark is on the helicarrier with Bruce Banner, he's adding songs to his iTunes playlist. But because I've been told Stark is a genius, and because I've seen him work a few times, my natural assumption is that he's doing genius shit in there. I don't even think they ever explain exactly what those two were doing in that room, but I never questioned it too much because I filled in the hole myself.

Now do the same thing for Batman. Think about the times you see Bruce Wayne. Now think about the number of times you see him doing ANYTHING in the Batcave. There is almost zero time spent in these films building Batman as a genius. As a detective. I point out the Iron Man films to make the simple point that it doesn't have to be time spent with him actually doing something. I think at least half the scenes of Tony Stark in his workshop are nothing more than him and Pepper talking. But because that's the setting, I naturally assume he was doing something before/after that scene. I fill in those blanks, whether true or not. Scenes in these Dark Knight films take place in various rooms of the mansion, or at restaurants. I make similar assumptions about before and after here, but I assume Bruce Wayne is eating or sleeping or something normal like that since he's in a rather normal setting.

All Bruce Wayne does is count on Lucius Fox. There's no creation or genius to what Bruce does. He looks at what's in a drawer or on a shelf, and he paints it black or cuts it into a bat shape. So back to the movie... Lucius gives him some new gear or whatever, mostly just the Batplane. Alfred does as asked and finds out all kinds of stuff about Bane. All sorts of bad stuff. He tells Bruce this bad stuff. He tells Bruce that he can't win this fight. Hell, Alfred even fucking quits because he so greatly believes that Batman cannot defeat Bane (Fun Fact: 90% of Michael Caine's scenes in this movie require tears).

Which all leads to an amazingly grand moment of stupidity. Batman convinces Catwoman to show him where Bane is hiding. Now since I asked for Batman to learn to trust people in the last blog, it feels cheap to call it out here. But this is sort of a blind trust. I mean, she's a criminal with a questionable moral code (he had to stop her from shooting people). Batman should have suspected the possibility of a double-cross, at least. From what he knows of Bane so far, he should be cautious enough to consider that she's been bought or brainwashed or whatever. But fine. Let's go with the idea that Batman trusts and believes Catwoman and it's a true surprise when she turns on him, (it might have also been part of Batman's plan the whole time).

Batman is locked in a cage with a man he knows little about other than what Alfred told him. And nothing Alfred told him was good. Alfred, who was so sure Batman could not defeat this man, that he quit and left for who knows where. Bruce's only friend and family, left because he so feared the power of  a single man. Batman is locked in this man's base of operations. A large man with a reputation for being a merciless killer. A man who is walking incredibly casually in Batman's direction. This dude is not intimidated or frightened by Batman in the least. Bane does not give a single fuck about Batman. Batman, who has that bum leg that he fixed with some sort of robotic knee brace. Batman, who has not been in a fight or done any superheroing for eight years before this week. Here he is, staring down this monster, who... holy shit, uses his real name. Not only is this an intimidating, powerful enemy, but he knows who Batman is. He know the one secret Batman has tried so "carefully" to hide. Batman is outed. An older, injured, out-of-practice and now identity known Batman against a younger, more ruthless, and unidentifiable mercenary in the mercenary's own camp, surrounded by the mercenary's own men... and Batman's idea is to punch him.

His first idea is to FUCKING PUNCH HIM. His ONLY idea is to punch him. Batman's a gods damned ninja. Throw a smoke bomb or a batarang or... something. Nah. He just runs up and punches a bigger, younger, much more vicious monster. The fight is pretty one-sided. No surprise here. Bane beats the fuck out of Batman, and in that wonderful little nod to the comics, snaps Batman right over his knee. Batman had no plan or strategy here at all. He went down into the sewer looking for Bane, found him, and then proceeded to attack with all the mental faculties of a junior high school bully.

We can argue about whether he was really hoping Bane would kill him, but if he was, that's dumb, too. With Batman dead, Bane wins. He takes over Gotham or blows it up or whatever his plan is, (at this point Batman doesn't know and never made an attempt to find out). Thousands of people die, including Batman, and none of that brings back whoever it is Bruce is grieving for at this point.

So Bane dumps Batman in The Pit. Now this is where we take some leaps of faith. But I'm fine with them. I don't care that The Pit is in the middle of the desert and it makes zero sense for Bane to go there right in the middle of his plan, or for Batman to somehow magically get back to Gotham in time once he escapes. Whatever. I'm cool with all that. I'm even cool with the idea that Batman is able to train himself back from being almost paralyzed, in a prison cell, when he couldn't even fix a bum leg in eight years of having an entire Batcave at his disposal. None of that jumps out at me as odd. It facilitates a point, and it works, so I'm fine.

Here's the part that does bother me. While in The Pit, Bruce gets the down low on Bane. He's in a cell next to this doctor who knows all about Bane. So this doctor tells Bruce that Bane got his face fucked up by the other inmates. Like ripped to shit and barely holding together. Bane has to wear that mask full of drugs, (morphine, I think they said) to keep the pain from overwhelming him. Without that mask juicing him all the time, and holding his face together, I guess, Bane would just be a quivering sack of hurt in the corner. That's how bad the inmates of this prison fucked his face up. The doctor knows all this because he's the one who attempted to help Bane after the inmates ripped his mouth off, or whatever.

OK. So Bruce needs to escape the prison, at which point he hears a couple versions of this kid who escaped. All the pieces of the story put together come out something like this: A child was born to a pregnant woman who was thrown in The Pit. The mother died and the kid was sort of adopted by one of the inmates. For whatever reason, the inmates kept coming after this child, and this protector kept fending them off. So one day the kid climbs up and out of the pit while the protector fends off the hordes of prisoners trying to get the kid.

Bruce, in his genius, puts these two stories together, (and what little else he knows), to conclude that Bane was the child that escaped, and that Ra's al Ghul is the father. Is that so, Batman? Because if that was the case, HOW THE FUCK DID BANE'S FACE GET TORN TO SHIT?! The child had a protector who kept the kid from harm. This is mentioned a couple of times. The protector sacrificed him/herself to hold off the inmates while the child climbed up and out of the pit to safety. At which point in that story did the kid's face get ripped off? At which point was the kid mauled and attacked by all the inmates? Because I very clearly remember this continued mention of a bodyguard who kept that very thing from happening. In fact, it seemed to be a good motivation for the kid to escape the prison before getting caught by the inmates and having who knows what done.
  
This will also be the only time that I'll outright question Nolan's directing (which I generally enjoy). When these stories are told to Bruce, they're accompanied with flashback style scenes of the kid climbing out of The Pit. The kid whose face is perfectly fine. So even if the two stories were cohesive enough to hold together, (which they aren't), the movie itself points out the obvious flaw in these stories. If the doctor's stories are to be believed (and we are never given a reason not to believe them), then there is no possible way Bane could be the child. It just doesn't make sense.

But... sure. Nolan's Batman used his Jump to Conclusions mat to deduce this ridiculous notion and escapes the prison. Bruce travels back to Gotham with his dumbass assumption to save the day. He gets back to Gotham, gathers up his allies, and puts a "plan" in motion.

Now I get to make fun of the voice. We all know Christian Bale's Batman voice is a little ridiculous. But now Batman is back in Gotham, gathering up Catwoman and Blake for his push to take back the city. The two people who know his identity. And he's talking to them in Batman voice. I get it. He puts on the mask, he does the voice. It's part of the gimmick, and you never stop playing the gimmick. It just adds another layer of ridiculous to that voice when he's using it on people he doesn't even need to.

Moving on. The plan, so much as it is one, is to launch an assault on City Hall and Bane while Commissioner Gordon finds the bomb and keeps it from going boom. This plan requires Batman to do what he does best, blindly punch at people with no real strategy or tactic whatsoever. For real, you take everything about the last fight Batman had with Bane and you amplify it by an entire city. He doesn't just own the sewer now. He owns the city. He doesn't just have a band of rebels. He has an actual army of mercenaries and Gothamites. Not to mention that Batman still has that bum leg, plus had his gods damned back was broken and he spent the last three or four months in a prison. So his new plan to take down Bane is to start a riot, and then fucking punch him.

Batman has obviously grown and learned a lot since the last time he fought Bane...

He does better this time. He wins the fight with his knowledge about the mask. And OK, I'll even qualify that as a sound strategy. So Batman takes advantage of Bane and beats him down. And beats him. And beats him. And beats him. All while screaming at him to identify the person holding the detonator.

Let's backtrack a second. Remember when Bruce was in that prison for a few months? Yeah. Well all that time, Bane was saying that he had given the detonation device for the bomb to someone else. A random Gothamite. Everyone believed him, except for Jim Gordon, who points out the absolute absurdity of that statement. So Bane created this entire, elaborate plan with masterful precision... and then left its execution to some random schmuck from Gotham? The man who orchestrated complete control of the city is just giving up control to some dude? It sounds pretty dumb when you say it out loud. The kind of person who would organize this sort of carefully constructed and executed plot would not just give the detonator to a random dude. That kind of person would keep it. They would remain in control of the situation, as they have this entire time. So Gordon believes that Bane has the detonator on him. He convinces others of the same.

Batman, however, was unable to come to this conclusion himself and he didn't get the speech from Gordon. So despite what should be relatively obvious (Bane has the detonator), Batman just punches Bane for an hour screaming at him about who has it. Even if Bane had given it to someone, and at this point there is not much reason to think he had, what is punching going to do? Bane had his face ripped off and that didn't stop him. Everything he has done up to this point has shown him as a man of great confidence and conviction. Again, even if he had given the detonator away, how is this tactic supposed to be at all effective in getting that information? 

So Batman goes on punching and screaming for the entire lifespan of the average house fly, until he is almost literally stabbed in the back. This is where his dumbass conclusion gets him in trouble. Now I'm not saying he should have known Miranda was the true child or Ra's al Ghul. All I'm saying is it was obvious Bane was not the kid. With that knowledge in mind, Batman could have been a little more aware and cautious of his surroundings, as he would have expected the true child of al Ghul to reveal himself/herself at some point. Fortunately for the plot and the swerve, Batman is a fucking idiot. Punchy punch punch.

On the unfortunate side of being a comic book fan, I knew Miranda was going to end up being Talia. It was just a matter of when the reveal would come. I knew that the moment she actually had a second scene, and was apparently going to be a character of some import. The keen eye will also note her convenient timing and placement in multiple points of this film, as well as odd choices by Bane to help facilitate these points. I noticed them because I was watching. I knew she was Talia, so I kept a closer eye. I couldn't blame someone for not noticing. It was mostly subtle and well done. I do blame Batman for not noticing some of this, at least. He was in the scene a few times when it happened.

Fast forward to the end, (and we'll skip over the part where Batman just straight up shoots the driver of the truck hauling the bomb), where Batman is ready to sacrifice himself to save the city. In his final moment of stupidity, Batman drops a clue about his identity to Commissioner Gordon, and goes off to commit suicide. Of course we find out this was all a big ruse later, Bruce Wayne is alive and well and he's left his legacy there for Blake to take over.

We suspect that Blake will take over the mantle of the bat and become the new Batman. Possible he becomes Nightwing or Robin (though it seems a bit dumb to use your real name as your superhero identity). But let's assume he's taking over Batman. Jim Gordon knows who Batman is. And he knows he is dead. Bruce Wayne died saving Gotham City. Gordon went to his grave and everything. So at some point this new Batman is going to show up and Gordon's just supposed to trust him? He'll know it's not the same dude. And he might even figure out it's Blake, seeing as he worked with Blake quite a bit during the time of this movie. If nothing else, Blake's first few outings as Batman will be an extra pain in the ass until Gordon either trusts him or finds out who he is. Bruce actually made things way more difficult for Blake by revealing his identity to Gordon at the end of this. It seems like it would be easier for Gordon to just believe that Batman somehow survived the explosion.

And there it is. All the dumb shit (I'm sure there's more) that I could remember from The Dark Knight Rises. There is plenty more in both Batman Begins and The Dark Knight.

The amazing thing about this is how well everything else is done. The stuff with the League of Assassins and Ra's al Ghul, in both the first and third films, is solid. The Joker was an astoundingly great character. Bane was an amazing character. Catwoman was a great adaptation from comic to film. Jim Gordon was an amazing ally and character in the first two films, (he kinda sucks in this one). Michael Caine has always been spot-on, and I have always believed that, above all else, his Alfred loves and cares for Bruce Wayne. Even the created character of John Blake, or the adaptation of Daggett from the animated series... all of this is well done. These films are pretty damn good, and as much as possible, loyal to the spirit of the comics if not the exact stories. From Ken Watanabe looking like the more traditional Ra's al Ghul, to a joke about alligators in the sewers and Selina Kyle having a protege... as much possible Nolan respects, appreciates, and nods at the source material.

Except for when it comes to Batman. His Batman is a bumbling brute incapable of fending or helping himself. Overall, Nolan has presented us with a Batman that knows little more than punching people in the face, (ask the Joker). Bruce Wayne is a whiner and quitter and a spoiled brat who relies on those in his employ to do the research and hard work for him so he can go out and play with the toys they gave him.

When everything else is so good, how can his portrayal of Batman be so bad? How can the title character of these films be so far removed from his comic book counterpart, when every other character seems grounded and anchored by the same inherent ideals as their print origins?

The only logical conclusion I can come to is that Christopher Nolan hates Batman. In much the same way that Frank Miller hates the Green Lantern and portrays him as a fool, Nolan hates the Batman and has portrayed him as a fool. Yet he's done so in the context of otherwise excellent movies, which seems to make people blind to this blatant fact.

The Joker and Harvey Dent did a better job of cleaning up Gotham than Batman ever did. Gotham survived eight entire years without Batman's help and was actually in the best shape it could have been (before Bane showed up). John Blake was a better, more dedicated hero and detective than Batman. Lucius Fox is smarter and more business savvy. The fight scenes are notoriously sub-par in these films, and while that is not extremely important, is still undermines one of Batman's greatest assets: he's an amazing fighter. For a character who frequently resorts to violence first, his violence isn't even that impressive. His "scary" voice has become a joke unto itself. Everything about the Batman portrayed in Nolan's films is laughable and ridiculous.

Yet everyone seems to just go along with it. And not just go along, but actively praise. I read reviews where people commended Christian Bale's acting (not to say he's bad, but he's the worst of the main cast) and the growth of the Bruce Wayne character. Growth?! He went from punching Bane, to getting broken in half and coming back to PUNCH BANE MORE. There is no growth. Alfred keeps talking about how he's afraid Bruce just wants to die. Alfred leaves because he's afraid Bruce will do something reckless and kill himself. And at the end of the movie, he seemingly KILLS HIMSELF. Sure, it was a fraud, but I'm not sure faking his death is that much better.

I'm not attempting to demean these movies as a whole. I like them. They're good. It's a solid trilogy. I just question anyone who can seriously tell me with a straight face that they're good Batman movies. Or even the best superhero movies. These movies are an atrocious representation of Batman. The so-called hero is one of the least likable or memorable characters in at least two of the three movies.

The superhero in these films, Batman, is a selfish thug who leans on others to do the real work and quits when things get too hard.

I like these movies. I like Batman in most other media forms.

But I fucking hate the Batman in Christopher Nolan's movies, and I think he does, too.