So recently I just read this trade paperback called, Batman: International. Let’s keep the snickering to a minimum.
The basic idea here is that somebody decided to collect various comics where Batman decided to go on vacation for some reason. Let me rephrase that: Batman decided to go on vacation FOR SOME REASON. Most of the times it feels like the writer has a hard-on for one location or another, maybe he just took a vacation there or something, and now he’s really excited to include it in a comic. But how to get him there…
Well, you could get him over to Scotland because Bruce Wayne is supposedly descended from some Scottish clan and they’re having a family reunion or something. I have to say, this really violates one of the great things about Batman. Batman is an orphan and I like my superheroes good and goddamn orphaned. It eliminates any chance that someone is going to capture some dumbass kid and hold him hostage. That’s key.
Now we have Batman/Bruce Wayne in a kilt(!) hanging out with some old granny and talking about Scottish heritage. That’s great. I bet when he gets back to Gotham and finds out that the Penguin was busted for DUI 8 times in the week he was gone and has committed vehicular homicide 7 times and only paralyzed a child on the eighth, Bruce will be really pleased with himself.
But then, oh my, a crime happens. And this is how we come about to awkward situation 2, the part where Bruce Wayne has to be Batman and save lives while also pretending he’s just a millionaire. A lot of times this involves some kind of smoke bomb. Really though, if some dude who was 6’9″ and three-hundred pounds of ripped muscle absolutely housed a couple of Scottish punks, it really wouldn’t seem that insane, would it?
The crime always go deeper, though. Then we get to the part where Batman has to get his hands on a costume.
Retarded.
First of all, do Scottish people even know about Batman? I didn’t think people in Cleveland knew about Batman, and that’s like 20 minutes away and not even separated by a goddamn ocean, at least if my recollection of coloring maps my senior year of high school still serves. The point being, why even wear the outfit? Just put on a ski mask and beat the shit out of them.
Secondly, if someone saw Bruce Wayne beating the holy hell out of a ciminal, would that somehow lead to everyone knowing he’s Batman? Hell, Scottish people probably know about Bruce Wayne about as much as they know about current mustache fashion (zero). If Richard Branson came to town and kicked the holy hell out of some thugs, I wouldn’t immediately jump to assuming he was a vigilante who dressed in a costume and killed hobos.
Perhaps, and far be it from me to point out how to be a vigilante as I can’t even stop the crime of customers parking in the staff lot at work, but perhaps part of the whole vigilante deal is you don’t get to go on vacation anymore. Or if you do, and this is speaking directly to vigilantes everywhere, maybe it’s time to take a real vacation from that part of your life too. It’s time to take relaxing rafting trip on the river of YOU.
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