These adventures are, essentially, weird exercises in problem-solving. The JLA is forced into arbitrary situations that test their lateral thinking skills, producing solutions that no one could have predicted. It’s like playing those early Sierra adventure games, where the answer is to combine three objects in completely non-intuitive ways. These stories lack any kind of dramatic tension or personality… except, of course, for Snapper Carr, whose personality makes me want to imprison him in an echo chamber that magnifies the sound of his incessant finger snapping to the point where it kills him, “A Quiet Place” style.
His rivals are Angelina Jolie, an affectless metal Ray Walston and a Gorn. I cannot think of three more DANGEROUS opponents.
Ssssoooo… we’re meant to believe that somehow these missiles are going faster and faster in an attempt to catch up with J’onn? That they don’t just have a top speed like all missiles? That they’re not able to withstand the speeds which they were BUILT TO ACHIEVE?
Okay, see? THIS is what I’m talking about. WHAT? Somehow J’onn is a super scientist too? Oh, and let’s not dismiss the casual dropping of “… my Martian knowledge of transmutation”. Which is magic, basically.
This is a little like saying “I’ll rig up a nuclear missile with my ability to move atoms together, so I can kill this fly.”
I’m a little off-put by the way Aquaman’s “struggling” here. It’s probably a good thing we can’t see the front of his briefs.
From the letters section. It’s pretty clear this is not a real person, because no one could love Snapper Carr.
At least until your power ring runs out of energy again, GL, or the second you get distracted and forget to maintain the force-field.
“Someday”, Supes? With no way to monitor this planet, you’re just going to make this promise? Actually, this would be the least ludicrous thing to happen in this story, so, sure.
And what would these Comics Breakdowns be without the ads?
Oh, women ALWAYS say this. If you’re a woman reading this post, you’re probably saying it right now. I explicitly believe everything comic book ads tell me. I am a lonely man.
Why is rolling off a log the exemplar of ease? Surely there are even easier things? I mean, I couldn’t roll off a log right now if I wanted to. I’d have to FIND a log to begin with, then commit the onerous task of getting ON the log, the work out the logistics of which way to roll OFF it… cripes, I’m tired already. Guess there’s no photo ring for me. Which bums me out, ’cause I have this inspiring photo of Rasputin, Patron Saint of Survival.
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