If This Book Has Made

In The World Of The Superheroes, Everything Had Value, Potential, Mystery. Any Person, Thing, Or Object Could Be Drafted Into Service In The Struggle Against Darkness And Evil - Remade As A Weapon Or A Warrior Or A Superhero. Even A Little Bee Named Michael - After God's Own Avenging Angel - Could Pitch In To Win The Battle Against Wickedness.

Your Head's Like Mine, Like All Our Heads; Big Enough To Contain Every God And Devil There Ever Was. Big Enough To Hold The Weight Of Oceans And The Turning Stars. Whole Universes Fit In There! But What Do We Choose To Keep In This Miraculous Cabinet? Little Broken Things, Sad Trinkets That We Play With Over And Over. The World Turns Our Key And We Play The Same Little Tune Again And Again And We Think That Tune's All We Are.

The More I Think About It, The More I Realize That Schools Are Just Factories For Turning Out Robots, That's All. They Get You When Your Small And Vulnerable And They Take All The Human Parts Away, Bit By Bit, Until You're Just A Wind-up Toy. Turn The Key And Set It Running. And The Toy Goes To University, Gets A Job, Settles Down With Someone Nice.

I Won't Tell You Again! Don't Look Back! In Hell You Never Look Back!

These Characters Were Like Twelve-bar Blues Or Other Chord Progressions. Given The Basic Parameters Of Batman, Different Creators Could Play Very Different Music.