"Hey, Dad," said the nine-year-old, "Mommy has a Batman comic book! And boy is it stupid!"
I chuckled nervously. Of course they were talking about my Batman comic book, purchased on impulse to see how Grant Morrison was carrying on. "Stupid how?" I asked, almost certain I already knew the answer.
Bingo: "There's girl superheroes, and they've all got underwear that slips right up their bum-cracks. See? Stupid!"
Actually, the girls in question were supervillains, but never mind. I thought I had put the offending book somewhere relatively safe, but my wife had noticed it and picked it up out of curiosity. And yes, the girls were indeed wearing outfits that would have hampered their attempts at hand-to-hand combat.
"Uh ... so what does Mommy think?"
"She can't stop reading it," reported the younger. "I had to say her name three times before she answered."
I heard a giggle in the other room. "It's true," she confirmed. "I haven't read a Batman comic since I was little. It's all very interesting."
Well ... it's getting there. "Very interesting" is a bit of a stretch, unless the last time you read Batman was when Neal Adams was in charge. As with earlier Morrison stories, I thought this month's issue was too short and lacking in continuity to be anything but superficially engaging. But the artwork is zippy, and even if it doesn't contribute what it should to continuity and emotional development, it has an undeniable distraction factor. But I don't think I'll be putting down the money for Morrison's collected works just yet.