The more I chewed it over, the more I did want to write something, about how I was born the month the final issue of The Dark Knight Returns hit shelves. About growing up with a Batman who’d never notbeen influenced by Miller’s work.

I’m 19 and I pick up All-Star Batman and Robin #1. The first scene is one in which journalist Vicki Vale complains at length about Bruce Wayne’s ethics but drops everything to go on a date with him as soon as Alfred, not even Bruce, calls her to arrange it. It includes a double page spread of her trying on different outfits in pink lace lingerie, babbling about how she can’t believe she’s going on a date with Bruce Wayne. It might be the first time since I began buying monthly comics that I decide a Batman story isn’t worth reading.

I’m still 19 and Frank Miller announces Holy Terror, Batman, a book he wants to write where Batman “kicks Al-Qaeda’s ass.” I can’t even begin to articulate all the reasons why that sounds like a terrible idea. While speaking to NPR about his personal reaction to the September 11th attacks a few months later, Miller would say: “For the first time in my life I know how it feels to face an existential menace.” I think that I’ve never heard something so white, straight, male and sheltered.


He will eventually repackage the idea as simply Holy Terror, after jettisoning any reference to the superhero. click to read entire article 


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