Fightin' Words by Patrick Keller "The Second Coming" Editor's note: The Fightin' Words staff was able to obtain special advance copies of the upcoming Frank Miller DC mini-series, The Dark Knight Strikes Again. The following is an exclusive review of the complete series, though great pains have been taken to avoid spoiling the book's plot or other time-sensitive matters. DK2: Issue One (Exorbitantly Recommended 11/10) Does it live up to the hype? That's the question on everyone's lips as the sequel to one of the seminal comics of the modern era hits the stands. Frank Miller's first Dark Knight series redefined superhero comics, paved the way for billion-dollar film franchises, incalculable spin-offs and more than a few imitators. But you knew that. The question is, is The Dark Knight Strikes Again any good? The answer is a resounding yes. If there were any other term more affirmative than that, I would use it. There is an ancient, rarely used Japanese term, kojujitra, which roughly translates to "absolutely no place for discord with negative connotations," and I would use that phrase here, except that it is disturbingly similar to the Japanese slang word, kojujitro, meaning "one who likes to have rough sex with rancid dead goats in the rice paddy." In 1979, a language scholar was overheard explaining the difference to his friends in an Osaka restaurant run by the Yakuza and they still haven't found pieces of him. Miller's writing style has certainly evolved since 1986, and this is in evidence throughout the book. He is clearly one of the Great Masters, not just of comic writing, but of any kind of storytelling. If there is any justice, his name will go down with those of Hemingway, Austen and Wordsworth. The dialogue is sharp and crisp, echoing and even surpassing the best noir-speak produced by Chandler or Cain at their height. During several key sequences in the book, I found myself choking back tears as I empathized with the rich, fascinating characters Miller packs into this tome. Unusual for a work of fiction, and downright bizarre for a mainstream comic. I haven't wept openly while reading a comic since the time I was accidentally punched in the nose while reading a Giffen-era Justice League on the subway. The art is easily the biggest wonder of this book. Miller's style grabs the reader and shakes the reader violently until one is left spent, in awe of the work before him, as one would sit in wonder of the presence of God himself. Each page is a discovery of a new world, every layout a revelation, every panel condensed inspiration. Often during the course of the book, I found myself looking away to avoid the sheer power of the contents of each page. In order to avoid brain hemorrhage, I was forced to put the comic down several times and play a simple game of solitaire. This comic should come with a warning sticker, though Miller would probably object to that on principle. Still, in terms of avoided lawsuits, one has to wonder if the trade paperback might contain some sort of cautionary language: "Please, For The Love of God and All That Is Holy, Be Careful With This Comic, Unwashed One!" At least they should provide protective eyewear. Upon completing my first reading of this masterpiece, I felt myself -- nay, my very soul -- fill with inner peace. I understood creation as I never had before. My life, transparent, simple. I was Fulfilled. I had no choice but to share this experience with those around me. I took all my worldly belongings, save my copy of DK2: vol. 1, sold the more valuable ones, and distributed the rest to the poor. I applied for tax-exempt status with the Internal Revenue Service, and immediately began ministering to the great hordes of Dark Knight Heathens. Miller must have had pure light of inspiration pouring from his fingertips as he created this masterpiece. Lynn Varley must have been channelling the divine when she applied colors to his pages. Bob Shreck is likely in a coma. But I do not weep for him, as I hear that copies have been rushed to the Middle East to encourage new rounds of peace talks. Bob will not have sacrificed himself in vain. I was not disturbed the evening I arrived home to find that my wife having a torrid affair with The Dark Knight Strikes Back #1, nor was I upset when she left me and the children to find a new life with it in Jamaica. In fact, I was happy that she too had taken DK2 into her heart. Renewed, I took to the streets and cured several lepers with the pages. I allowed the blind to gaze upon the multiple, collectible covers, and while their sight was not restored, they said that at last they understood what color was. My Great Aunt Edna accidentally sat on a copy I had given her and reported to me that her hemorrhoids had vanished. In short, the first issue of The Dark Knight Strikes Back is nothing short of a miracle of modern publishing. My heart aches with anticipation for the next issue. DK2: Issue Two (Recommended 7/10) It was inevitable that following the astronomical power and beauty of the first issue that the second issue would pale somewhat in comparison. It's understandable, and my therapist had helped me prepare for that contingency extensively. That is why I am calmly able to report that while the second issue is not a disappointment, it simply does not match the impact of the issue it has the unenviable task of following. Varley's coloring, of course, is still quite spectacular, but the layouts seem to have become more complicated, and the story's narrative drive suffers as a result. The characterization continues to be impressive, though some inconsistencies pop up that will plague continuity buffs. And why does Batman sometimes appear to have an extra finger? Those concerns aside, there are still more than enough positive aspects of this story to recommend it. The art, though an acquired taste for non-Miller fans, manages to convey more about the core aspects of the character than their literal anatomy. Miller's dialogue is still sharp and witty, as expected, but a small typographic error pulled me out of the story at least once. However, the primary power of DK2 so far is the iconic story drives to the heart of a lot of issues that have pained humanity for ages. Miller manages to find a few fresh, surprising insights into these struggles that affect us all, and that alone makes this a comic worth reading, worth owning, worth treasuring. Still, just as one inevitably experiences a nasty comedown from a cocaine rush, this issue seems flat. I can only hope that this issue does not endanger the tenuous world peace or the tax status of The First Church of Frank. DK2: Issue Three Sucked. Patrick Keller hopes he didn't harsh anyone's buzz. All apologies to Frank Miller, Lynn Varley and Bob Shreck, all of whom are brilliant, I swear. This column is meant as parody, as protected by Hustler Magazine v. Fallwell, 485 US 46, 108 S.Ct 876, 99 L.Ed.2d 41 (1988)). Any similarities to any situations or persons, living or dead, are strictly coincidental. Email Patrick Keller comments about this column, or discuss it on the Fourth Rail message board.