Mindless Ones

These are not my favourite pants. They count, they’re in the collection, they get worn on the regular cycle like the rest, but these pants aren’t all that good are they?

The blue trim is okay, and they say ‘Superman’ on them, which is pretty bloody amazing when you think of the millions of billions of pants that don’t have any superhero’s name on them at all, but next to the mighty world of Marvel pants that we’ve been exploring this last wonderful week, the DC territory starts to look rather sparse.

That photo makes me want to weep. The way the ‘rman’ diminishes into a back, blank starless expanse of dead space. He deserves better, doesn’t he? Come on DC Merch Man – give with the good Superman pants.

(It could be a metaphor for the current state of play – Marvel sticks to its bright, zeitgeisty faux-realism and in its proliferation that sensibility seems more relevant than ever, while the DC pants just don’t seem to understand what’s good about good pants. The phrase for failing to get the point in this way is to ‘Do a Didio’.)

Things aren’t looking that good. The Daft Cocks need something pretty special to save them now.

You know what’s coming next, don’t you? Dinner dinner dinner dinner dinner dinner dinner dinner

Bat Pants!

Fuck

Yes.

My favourite pants. They’ve had to go to the Marvel design team to get there, but goddam have they done it. Batman always wins, in all arenas and circumstances, and these pants will be similarly victorious for as long as they adorn my privileged chap, sack and crack. Without wishing tio give myself a blowjob here, I’d like to draw your attention to some words I wrote a week ago, way back at the start of Underwear Week:

‘Featuring both Iron Man and The Incredible Hulk, they are the living, breathing blockbuster fashion pant of Summer 2008. At least until I get me some Batman ones... It’s retro-perfecto, so now it could literally have been rendered tomorrow afternoon. ‘

I was a bit off on the timing, by a few days, but basically I was on the money. I don’t normally like to brag about things other than my pant collection, but it turns out I can see into the future with a bloody impressive level of accuracy too. It is very rare for me to be this ON on the fashion curve, by the way, so I’m a little shocked and responding with less than due modesty. (The poodle has these pants too, but it’s less of a surprise him being up-to-the-nanosecond like that.)

I’m so Batman right now – I expect you are too, at least a little bit. I’m thinking about the Black Glove’s identity a bit at least every day. I’m thinking about what he’s going to do to Desaad when he makes his big comeback in Final Crisis. I’m thinking about which Batbooks to get when I go to the comic shop this weekend (Is the Lapham run good? The Gotham Central trade with the Joker story could be interesting…. I like the look of those recent-ish Matt Wagner Golden Age cover version ones… What is the greatest Batman comic I’ve never read?) I even got that crappy manga DVD a few weeks ago to slake my pre-movie thirst. Saw the movie on Saturday, and while the length, plot and rhythm all have their flaws, combining to make a movie that is probably less good than its predecessor blah blah – Give. A. Shit. It was fucking brilliant, or at least packed to the tits with fucking brilliant bits. Brilliant Bat bits. Joker bits. Gordon bits. Alfred bits. Batmobile bits. Batbike bits. Two Face bits. Copycat-Bat bits. Scarecrow bits. A thousand bloody brilliant bits making me itch for a second viewing already. And I know it’s been said, but shit those Joker bits are good.

These pants are good too, aren’t they? They combine the bright, daft camp of the classic show with a sense of encroaching threat and menace – the Joker’s gun, the gargoyles, the distant explosion, the Joker’s stuck-on smile. The strip is endearingly wonky, no Kirby skilliance here, but pure iconic power rendered in creepy and unusual mauves, blues and purples. Judging from the feel of the art and the Batmobile design, always a good indicator, a good guess for the source of the strip-work here is early-Seventies, dawn of the dark age stuff, with the TV influence still very strong, but a clear tension with the creatives involved trying to pull in more interesting directions. Readers, can YOU identify the source of the art on these pants, issue and artist? If you can, you could win a pair of Pants Week superhero pants, personally oiled and soiled by yours truly!!* Here’s a fuzzy close-up of the Batmobile to make your job a little easier:

The Flatus is good too, combining both a fine farty euphemism and ‘will I make it to the lav on time??’ situational diahorrea comedy. The Joker is saying ‘Hurry you dolts! My little firecracker won’t keep the authorities distracted for long!‘

Thanks for saving Pants Week, movies and the DCU, Batman.

And that’s really it. That is the full extent of my collection of superhero pants. I hope you enjoyed rifling through my drawers as much as I regularly do. Thanks very much for all your excellent comments, especially Satrap, Bill Reed and Peter from Sanctum Sanctorum Comix who has three identical damn pairs of the Liefeldest Marvel pants in the world. As and when new superpants come along, I will post them here to keep you all updated, so come back regularly to see if there has been any more motions.

And that’s it, Pants Week is over. I really do not have any more super pants to show you. Game over. The end. (Can’t believe I’m about to do this)

Well – apart

from

these.

*Not really. Make your own.

This post, and all of Pants Week, is lovingly dedicated to Karen, without whom all of these incredible pants would belong to someone else, or have gone unsoiled entirely.