THE BOYS #60: Shit, there weren’t a lot of books that came out this week. There were plenty of good ones, but only one that was Cool Shit-worthy. So naturally, it’s a Garth Ennis book, the one I’ve been the most excited about these past few years. In this issue, something truly amazing happens. You know how the U.S. President has been kind of hanging around the background of the story? (Okay, I know we got to see him once before. It doesn’t count.) We finally get to meet him in all of his cowboy glory . . . AND ENNIS FUCKIN’ KILLS HIM OFF. And let’s not mince words, this is the most embarrassing way for a U.S. President to die, short of getting killed in a dildo accident. I mean, if Taft had died in that bathtub, it would still not be as bad as how Ennis offed this guy. While doing a meet-and-greet with a bunch of patriotic kids and their off-kilter pets, one of them escapes and makes a bee-line for the Prez (who looks a little more than coincidentally like Dubya). Yes, the President is mauled to death by a wolverine in front of a roomful of children. And it was fuckin’ BRUTAL. He gets his eyes eaten out and his throat torn out so deeply you can practically see all of his spinal column. I was tempted to use this picture to represent this issue, but . . . buy the book and see it for yourself. Jesus. The worst part: this means the perennial moron, Vic the Veep is now in charge. Fuuuuuuck.
And that’s not all. MM finds out that his skank of a wife is making porn with their daughter and a guy named Julius Kong. Naturally, he’s a wee bit upset, and it looks like Butcher’s going to have to calm him down. With all the infighting of late, next issue could contain a very interesting two-fisted battle.
I have one more thing to mention. The reason Ennis is my favorite comics writer is his fearlessness in tackling any subject, but a very good secondary reason is his irreverence toward superheroes. Honestly, I never liked those dickbags (I only read their books when writers I like are writing them), and it does my heart good to see them suffer. (PREACHER was my favorite book, but I miss HITMAN more for this reason alone. Where else could you see a criminal puking his guts out on Batman’s feet? Or how about when Tommy Monaghan reveals the Green Lantern to be an absolute cheapskate?)
One of the things I hate most about superheroes is how they take themselves ever-so-fucking seriously. Case in point: their stupid macho (and this applies to women, too, not just the men) poses on the covers of their books. Eyes squinted, crouching as if ready to pounce, mouths open as if shouting with rage, the works. It never looks cool. Ever. Ever. Ever. There is nothing more hatefully laughable than this bullshit.
Take a look at the last panel of this issue as Team Titanic make their debut, and you’ll see what I mean. But the thing is, not even the Homelander, the piece of shit that he is, lets them get away with this crap. With the last two panels, he takes the absolute piss out of the lot of them, and they have it coming in spades. Thank you, Mr. Ennis.