Before Watchmen: The beautiful brutality of Rorschach

I'm not sure if there was any particular reason why DC didn't include Rorschach in their first wave of Before Watchmen comics. He is the most popular character from this batch — especially after the Zack Snyder movie. Maybe DC was banking on Rorschach's popularity to renew interest in this project two months in. Whatever the reason may be, we're finally starting the four-issue miniseries by Brian Azzarello and Lee Bermejo.

This cover by Bermejo is stunningly beautiful. I think almost any other artist would make me roll my eyes at the prospect of a Rorschach within a Rorschach within a Rorschach. But Bermejo's brutally realistic style pulls off this gimmick perfectly. I suppose if you have enough sincerity and skill, you can turn an otherwise silly gimmick into a work of art.

Jim Steranko certainly tried to make his variant a work of art. But ... it just doesn't work for me. The Before Watchmen logo unfortunately obscures the crumbling Doomsday Clock and I think he went too far with the dogs. Rorschach provides so many fun artistic opportunities, and I don't think Steranko took advantage of them.

Jim Lee also didn't take advantage of Rorschach's artistic opportunities. The inkblots on Rorschach's mask are bizarrely thin and straight. They look like little cuts and slashes in a pure white mask. It's almost like Lee has never read Watchmen and doesn't understand Rorschach at all.

One of the stranger choices with this comic was the decision to have Rorschach's journal be typed on a typewriter instead of handwritten. Maybe they thought letterer Rob Leigh wouldn't be able to replicate Dave Gibbons' handwriting? They also clumsily tried to insert a few errors to make it look like a realistic typewritten journal, but Azzarello and company aren't nearly as skilled at this as Alan Moore was. There aren't enough mistakes in the text and they all seem to be the same mistake — misspelling the word "what."

Anyway, this story takes place in 1977, which is an interesting era to explore. Nite Owl, Silk Spectre and Ozymandias have retired, and Dr. Manhattan and the Comedian are working for the United States government. Rorschach is bitterly waging his one-man war against the underbelly of New York. After he recounts a tale of receiving frostbite as a child (due to him avoiding his prostitute mother), Rorschach violently assaults a man masturbating in an adult movie store. The man is apparently a drug dealer and Rorschach breaks his arm to find out where the drugs are.

The dealer says his supplier uses a secret tunnel in the sewers, and Rorschach spends the next five days wading through sewage before he learns too late that he has fallen into an elaborate trap. Rorschach is jumped by a gang and comes face-to-face with their leader, a large man covered in scars, who only introduces himself as "Crime." He belittles Rorschach, then forbids his men from removing his mask, saying, "the mask makes the corpse." 

Oddly, this "Crime" fellow chooses to not kill Rorschach, merely settling for beating him up real good and walking away. Rorschach crawls out of the sewers and breaks into a drug store to steal some medicine. In the morning, he visits a diner as Walter Kovacs and tells the waitress he was mugged. Walter is oddly talkative as he reads the newspaper's account of a murderer known as "The Bard," who has killed another woman and carved a cryptic message into her corpse. (This is being investigated by the two underutilized detectives who opened Watchmen #1.)

I'm glad this wasn't merely a rehashing of Rorschach's origin — Moore gave us enough of that in the main series. This is just a nice adventure from that overlooked decade in the Watchmen chronology. I especially like how Rorschach fell so easily into that trap. He's not a good detective and Azzarello knows that. Bermejo's art is perfect for a comic that seeks to turn up the violence to 11. But I find myself worrying that this art might be too perfect. The biggest problem with Rorschach is that he's supposed to be a repulsive character, warning the audience of how dangerous and unhinged vigilante superheroes can become. But too many people just see him as this cool tough guy who doesn't play by the rules and gets results. Zack Snyder unfortunately made Rorschach look as cool as possible. And Bermejo and Azzarello are in danger of doing that, too.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1991

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 26, 1991 – Felt Forum, New York City

Previous season:

Bolstered by the addition of Jeff Malone, Utah went 54-28 in 1990-91 and reached the second round of the playoffs. The Jazz were crushed by Portland in five games, perhaps because their truly dreadful bench forced them to rely too much on the aging Mark Eaton and Thurl Bailey.

The draft:

With the 21st pick, the Jazz drafted Providence point guard Eric Murdock.

Utah then used the 48th pick on a center from Arizona State named Isaac Austin.

Analysis:

The Jazz front office was very excited to nab Murdock. He was the all-time NCAA career steals leader, and assistant coach Gordon Chiesa had briefly coached him at Providence. But Murdock played sparingly for Utah, only appearing in 50 games in his rookie season before he was traded to Milwaukee alongside Blue Edwards and a first-round pick. I get that the Jazz shifted to a win-now mentality after reaching the Western Conference Finals, but it still astounds me that they so willingly parted with a rookie and a first-round pick just to get rid of Edwards. Anyway, Murdock flourished with the Bucks. He was immediately named the started and finished second in voting for Most Improved Player of the Year (losing to Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf). Murdock had a couple of good years for Milwaukee until he sustained an eye injury that he never seemed to fully recover from. Still, he lasted nine years in the NBA as a solid backup point guard.

I think the Jazz gave up too soon on Murdock. However, I think they could have drafted someone better who would have made a bigger impact right away — Rick Fox. He had a 13-year career split between the Celtics and Lakers, shining especially during L.A.'s three-peat of the early 2000s. He was a pretty good defender, but was mostly known for his shooting, which would have helped Utah tremendously.

Austin, much like Luther Wright, was a big man who struggled with his weight. The Jazz apparently put incentives in his contract to stay down at 275 pounds, but he rarely hit that mark and didn't get much playing time before Utah finally cut him after two unproductive years. But the best part of his stint with the Jazz was Karl Malone. The two became close friends and Malone personally helped Austin lose 40 pounds in 40 days after he fell out of the NBA with a weight of 340 pounds. In 1996, Austin signed with Miami, ending his two seasons abroad. To the surprise of everyone, Austin was in terrific shape and finally living up to his potential. He was named Most Improved Player of the Year and enjoyed three more very solid seasons in the NBA before eventually slowing down and petering out in 2002. Curiously, he never lasted longer than two years anywhere, even during his peak.

It is nice that Karl Malone helped Austin turn his career around, but that came too late to help the Jazz. So I'm going to suggest Utah draft someone else. Since I passed on Murdock, I'll take a different point guard — Darrell Armstrong. He started his career in the minor leagues and slowly worked his way up the Orlando depth chart. Armstrong had a breakout year in 1999, winning both the Most Improved Player and Sixth Man of the Year trophies. A fierce defender and solid shooter, I think he would have excelled for the Jazz (as long as they don't get impatient and trade him away too soon).

My advice:

1. Use the 21st pick on Rick Fox.

2. Use the 48th pick on Darrell Armstrong.

I'm sad I wasn't able to find a good big man for the Jazz this year, but I think Fox and Armstrong would have been great additions. I suppose I should also note that Utah signed undrafted rookie David Benoit during the 1991 offseason. He became a fairly important player for the Jazz until he tore his Achilles in 1996. He wasn't bad, but he wasn't great, either. I think Fox would have been a substantial upgrade.

Before Watchmen: Ozymandias quickly moves on

I think one of the appeals of Before Watchmen for many creators was the chance to do things that they'd never be able to get away with on an ordinary DC book. This cover is a prime example of that. It goes a bit too far for my personal tastes. Plus, it's incredibly misleading. Nothing remotely like this happens in this issue. We do see several women almost dressed like this, sort of. But that's where the similarities end.

I love this Phil Noto variant. It's an ad for Veidt Industries that showcases his charismatic, flamboyant CEO side, while simultaneously drawing allusions to his bisexuality. It's a simple, neat and tidy cover that manages to be sexual without resorting to the base overtness of Jae Lee's.

Our story resumes on Oct. 11, 1985, with Adrian resuming the recording of his autobiography while exercising with Bubastis. Last issue, he told us that dirty drugs killed his girlfriend, which I took to mean that the drugs had been tainted somehow. But this issue, Adrian describes her death merely as an accidental overdose. I guess the word "dirty" was just a generic descriptor.

Adrian recounts how it took four days for him to learn where those drugs came from, and Len Wein goes into intricate — exceedingly boring — detail about Ozymandias interrogating random thugs and trailing others through the streets and eavesdropping on conversations in fancy clubs. It gets rather exhausting. One note of minor interest, though, is the complete lack of Moloch in this issue, despite his rather imposing presence in Ozymandias #1. All we get of him here, is a brief mention in passing about how he's taken an "extended vacation." And Ozymandias oddly seems content with apprehending the drug dealers allegedly working beneath Moloch and leaving it at that.

The climax of this issue is Ozymandias' raid on the drug dealers' warehouse. This is also, unfortunately, the part where Lee's artwork hurts the story the most. For starters, the man in charge of the operation is described as "a grotesquely fat man in a pristine suit." But we never actually see his fat body or his suit — just oblique shadows from a distance and the occasional uncomfortable close-ups. Is Lee just really bad at drawing fat people and decided to hide it as much as he could?

Even worse, though, is Lee's inability to stage a satisfying action sequence. He tried something unique with a two-page spread of a small, black silhouette of Ozymandias flipping around against a yellow background. But I found it underwhelming. It certainly didn't help matters that Wein oddly decided to have Ozymandias toss his headband around like Wonder Woman's tiara. Apart from that one spread, it really felt like Lee was doing everything he could to avoid having to actually draw the main character in motion. This is bad for any comic book, but it's especially heartbreaking for Ozymandias. His fight scenes in the original series were the most breathtaking, fluid and beautiful sequences of action Dave Gibbons could provide. What a shame that we ended up with perhaps the absolute worst artist for this miniseries.

And Wein's not off the hook, either. He's now fully moved on past the massive monologues of Alan Moore, and it shows. Some of his dialogue is either accidentally bad, or is intentionally so in order to make us doubt Adrian's reliability as a narrator. For example, Adrian recounts how time "literally stopped" right before he took on the drug dealers. Not figuratively — literally. Look, I know Ozymandias has near-superhuman abilities, but he's not that good. He can't actually freeze time! Right?

Anyway, that one outing was apparently enough to satisfy Adrian's need to avenge the death of his girlfriend, and he quickly moves on to the fun and thrilling life of a costumed vigilante. After taking down a handful of random, gimmicky criminals, Adrian begins to consider the long-term effects of this lifestyle. This prompts him to investigate the history of the Minutemen, and he's instantly drawn to the mystery of Hooded Justice's disappearance. He eventually investigates the pier where the Hooded Justice was last seen, but he's promptly attacked by the Comedian.

Well, it sure was nice of Wein to give Adrian a girlfriend so she could immediately be killed and forgot about even quicker. This whole issue was such an enormous letdown — so much potential just flushed down the toilet. With the exception of Minutemen #2, all the second issues of this first wave were a disappointment. I'm not sure how that happened. Was it because all these writers really didn't have enough story for a full miniseries?

Redrafting the Jazz: 1992

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 24, 1992 – Memorial Coliseum, Portland, Oregon

Previous season:

The Jazz got off to a slightly rocky start to the 1991-92 season. They were 7-6 until they abruptly traded longtime sixth man Thurl Bailey and their 1992 second-round pick to Minnesota for Tyrone Corbin. That turned out to be exactly what Utah needed, as Bailey was on the decline and Corbin was still in his prime. The Jazz finished the season at 55-27 and, more importantly, reached the Western Conference Finals for the first time in franchise history. Utah ultimately lost to Portland in six games, and the Blazers went on to lose to Chicago in six games, as well. But still, it was a massive achievement for the Jazz, and general manager Scott Layden wanted to build on this momentum and maximize the sweet prime years of John Stockton and Karl Malone.

The draft:

Layden pulled off another surprising trade, this time on Draft Day, sending the 23rd pick, Blue Edwards and Eric Murdock to Milwaukee for Jay Humphries and Larry Krystkowiak. The Bucks used the pick on Lee Mayberry.

Utah's second-round pick ended up being No. 51, which the Timberwolves used on Tim Burroughs. Layden didn't try to acquire any other picks for this draft, making this the first year during my witch's curse where the Jazz didn't actually draft someone. But I think I can change that.

Analysis:

Due to the nature of the curse, I'm unable to prevent the Bailey-Corbin trade from happening. (And I probably wouldn't stop it even if I could. It just made too much sense.) However, I think I can stop the Edwards-Humphries trade. It really was quite baffling that Utah made that deal in the first place. Edwards was a fan favorite who excelled at dunking and defending. He started 81 games at small forward, but he was a bit undersized at 6-foot-4. However, his relationship with coach Jerry Sloan deteriorated by the end of the season and Edwards lost his starting job in the playoffs to rookie David Benoit. So maybe moving him was ultimately in the best interests of the team.

However, I don't think Layden made the right trade by a long shot. It is understandable to want veteran backups for Stockton and Malone, but Humphries and Krystkowiak really didn't deliver. Krystkowiak only spent one mediocre season in Utah, while Humphries limped along for two and a half years before being traded for — get this — Blue Edwards! That was completely Utah's way of acknowledging that they messed up this trade. And we can't forget Eric Murdock, either. The rookie point guard actually went on to have a fairly decent career, finishing second in Most Improved Player voting in his first season out of Utah. So yeah, I'm killing that trade and keeping the 23rd pick.

The Jazz didn't miss anything with Mayberry. He had a quiet six-year career as a permanent backup on some pretty bad Milwaukee and Vancouver teams. The guy drafted right after Mayberry did turn out to be an All-Star, but I don't think Latrell Sprewell would have done too well in Utah. In fact, I'd say there's a good chance Sloan would have straight-up murdered Sprewell with his bare hands. So instead, I'm going to go with a much calmer individual with P.J. Brown. And I'm not doing that just because he won both the Citizenship Award and Sportsmanship Award. He was named to the All-Defensive Second Team three times in his 15-year career and would have helped fill the void left by Thurl Bailey (albeit with less offensive prowess).

My advice:

1. Keep the 23rd pick and use it on P.J. Brown.

I don't know if I would have traded Blue Edwards. But I certainly know I wouldn't have traded him away with a promising rookie AND a first-round pick for two washed-up veterans who would just come off the bench. I appreciate the win-now mentality, but you can't completely forsake the future. I think P.J. Brown could have done quite well in Utah.

Before Watchmen: In the shadows of Rorschach

I surprised myself by having some kind words for the cover of Nite Owl #1. But I genuinely appreciated how the image looked cool like Batman at first glance, but then became rather silly the more you examined it. The same can be said for this joint pose of Nite Owl and Rorschach. You might initially think this was a neat, brooding cover, but if you look closer, you'll see just how awkward and unnatural both the characters are. And I think — at least I hope — that this was intentional. As the story will soon reveal, that whip actually belonged to a prostitute. I don't want to get too graphic here, but it looks like Nite Owl is getting a bit aroused by this and Rorschach is acting really stiff and uncomfortable. Maybe that's just me reading too much into it, but that's what I see. I also don't think it's a coincidence that Rorschach is looming over Nite Owl here. I'll get more into that later.

David Finch's variant doesn't do much for me. It's quite stiff and dull. I suppose Nite Owl's control stick is rather phallic, which would fit in more with this story's sexual nature. But I don't think Rorschach is making the right pose if that's what Finch was going for. Rorschach appears quite relaxed and even approving, which doesn't work for this potentially sexual innuendo. Neither does Nite Owl's expression. Maybe if he looked a little bit happier? Oh well, let's move on.

Our story begins with Nite Owl and Rorschach chasing a couple of criminals down an alleyway. The criminals split up, giving Rorschach a chance to comment on Nite Owl's left-leaning politics. Rorschach pursues his criminal to the right, while Nite Owl heads left. To his surprise, this takes him into a room where a nude prostitute has been working with a bound-and-gagged client. Equally surprising was how the prostitute knocked out the criminal cold.

She can tell Nite Owl is attracted to her, so she begins playfully flirting with him until Rorschach enters the room. He immediately calls her a whore and tries to attack the woman. Nite Owl defends her, actually throwing Rorschach across the room to get him to stop. He tries to apologize to his partner, but Rorschach brushes him off and leaves with the insinuation that Nite Owl will soon be one of the prostitute's clients.

The comic then takes an unexpected detour in Rorschach's life. He plops down in front of the TV, eating cold beans straight out of the can. A commercial for bras disturbs him, reminding him of his mother forcing him out of their apartment while she worked as a prostitute. And, yes, even as a child, he ate cold beans straight from the can. 

Deep sigh!

I really hate it when writers make too big a deal out of something inconsequential — especially when they're inflating a detail from someone else's work. I had thought that Alan Moore was merely showing us Rorschach eating the beans because he was too hungry and insane to worry about comfort or hygiene. But that wasn't good enough for J. Michael Straczynski. No, the cans of beans needed a special significance. They remind Rorschach of his tortured childhood, a kind of perverse form of comfort food. OK, now that I'm done rolling my eyes, we can get back to the story.

Dan visits Hollis, who tells him the woman he met is actually the Twilight Lady, and he warns Dan to stay far away from her to preserve Nite Owl's reputation as a kid-friendly hero. Hollis bitterly says that you can't do anything "that might make you realize that an awful lot of your life was just a lie."

The next night, Rorschach doesn't join Nite Owl on patrol, as Walter Kovacs is attending a church meeting. The pastor likes to wave around a big sign that says "The End is Nigh" because, you know, there's no possible way for Rorschach to have come up with that sign all by himself. Anyway, the pastor's message is to "get louder" to compete with the sins of the world, and it resonates strongly with Walter, inspiring him to resume his activities as Rorschach.

He follows Nite Owl to the scene of a homicide. The police officer present is surprised to see Nite Owl there, as the victim was allegedly a prostitute. But Nite Owl takes a special interest in this case, as the victim's old bruises remind him of his mother being frequently beaten by her husband. Nite Owl quickly becomes irritated by the lack of concern shown by both the police officer and the landlord. Rorschach walks in, saying their attitude is unfortunately too common in cases like this. He shares the story of Kitty Genovese, the woman who was allegedly attacked for over an hour in front of 38 neighbors, who refused to call the police.

Rorschach's story fails to change the attitudes of the cop or the landlord, so Rorschach and Nite Owl leave the apartment. They quickly reconcile and Rorschach claims the Genovese story was what inspired him to become a superhero (a claim that would later be debunked by Malcolm Long).

We then get an extended flashback of Dan as a child. Apparently he got beaten up on a near-daily basis by schoolyard bullies because ... I don't know, he was a dweeb? Anyway, Dan's father was infuriated by his weakling son constantly being beaten, so Dan's mom taught him how to conceal his bruises with makeup and, more importantly, how to psychologically distance himself from the pain. She tells him to find something special to hold onto, a place deep inside himself where nobody can hurt him. Inspired by the news reports about Nite Owl, Dan bought a 50-cent mask and wore it to confront his bullies. They still beat the snot out of him, but now he's gained a sort of moral victory by refusing to outright surrender to them. I guess.

And then we bizarrely get a separate flashback of young Dan telling his mom one night that he overheard her and his dad talking about how they only got married because she was pregnant and there was a "disagreement" over what to do with the baby. But Dan couldn't tell which parent wanted to keep him, so he asked his mom point-blank who it was. She refuses to answer, only saying "it doesn't matter anymore."

We finally cut back to the present, where Nite Owl is remembering those words from his mom and the police officer saying "one more dead slut doesn't matter." He vows to himself that it does matter, so he pays a visit to the Twilight Lady.

Ugh!

Straczynski is driving me crazy! He clearly wishes he could have been writing a Rorschach comic instead. And I don't blame him — Rorschach is a much more compelling character than Nite Owl. But this is the one and only comic book miniseries dedicated to Nite Owl's origins, and Straczynski should have embraced the unique aspects of Nite Owl's character. Instead, he decided to make Nite Owl a watered-down version of Rorschach, complete with his own harrowing childhood overflowing with unnecessary melodrama. And when Straczynski wasn't doing that, he was sloppily retreading Rorschach's origin. I can't believe that the editors didn't step in and say, "Hey, leave the Rorschach stuff for Brian Azzarello — he's handling that miniseries."

Redrafting the Jazz: 1993

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 30, 1993 – The Palace of Auburn Hills, Auburn Hills, Michigan

Previous season:

John Stockton and Karl Malone were insanely good at this time period. Both were members of the Dream Team of the 1992 Olympics and were fittingly crowned co-All-Star Game MVPs in Salt Lake City in 1993. Unfortunately, their supporting cast wasn't too great. The Jazz had to rely too much on Jeff Malone, Tyrone Corbin, and Jay Humphries. General manager Scott Layden would eventually upgrade each of those players through trades, but that would take a while. In the meantime, Utah's biggest weakness was at center. Longtime stalwart Mark Eaton had finally reached the end of his career and his primary backup, Mike Brown, was equally ineffective. As such, the Jazz went 47-35 in 1992-93 and were knocked out of the first round of the playoffs by Seattle in five games.

The draft:

Utah used the 18th pick on a center from Seton Hall named Luther Wright.

With the 45th pick, the Jazz drafted Bryon Russell, a small forward from Long Beach State.

Analysis:

Wright was one of the most disappointing draft picks in Jazz history. He showed up to training camp 55 pounds above his listed playing weight and only appeared in 15 during the 1993-94 season. In January 1994, he was found by the police at a truck stop at 4 a.m., smashing car windows and banging on trash cans. He was sent to a mental institution, diagnosed with bipolar disorder and his NBA career came to a tragically short end. To their credit, the Jazz agreed to pay out the remainder of his $5 million in small installments over the next 25 years. Unfortunately, that money didn't actually help Wright. He wasted much of it on drugs and spent several stints living homeless, contracting diseases that required him to have toes amputated. All in all, a very, very sad story. I almost feel bad recommending the Jazz draft someone else, but it's not their job to help someone like this. And they were poorly equipped to helping him anyway. There's no way to prevent the tragedy of Luther Wright.

Replacing Wright was surprisingly difficult for me. I have two All-Star point guards available to me — Sam Cassell and Nick Van Exel. Stockton didn't need an incredible backup and it's far too soon to start thinking about a replacement for him. But Cassell really tempts me because I think he could have thrived in that Humphries role of backing up Stockton and occasionally starting alongside him in smaller lineups. It certainly is an intriguing prospect, but I just can't bring myself to pull the trigger on it. The Jazz desperately needed a center. This is the '90s, where the only teams that won either had a dominant center (like Hakeem Olajuwon) or a halfway decent center (like Bill Cartwright). I can't risk messing up Stockton and Malone's prime with wild experiments — I have to take the sure thing, no matter how boring it is. And that pick is Ervin Johnson. He played 13 years in the NBA and was a fairly decent rebounder and shot-blocker. Definitely not a flashy player by any means, but seemly dependable and reliable enough to solidify Utah's biggest weakness in their lineup.

Utah's second-round pick, however, was a lot easier for me. Russell was one of the best picks in Jazz history. He filled an immediate need during his rookie season, and just a couple of years later became an indispensable member of the team. It really is hard imagining the late-90s Jazz without Russell. Granted, I always wished he could have been just a little bit better, but beggars can't be choosers this late in the draft. There's no one better available, so for better and worse, I'm sticking with High-Flyin' Bryon.

My advice:

1. Use the 18th pick on Ervin Johnson.

2. Use the 45th pick on Bryon Russell.

I'm still debating picking Johnson over Cassell. Part of me says I should just draft the best player available and let Layden work it all out through trades. But trades can be fickle things and I want to maximize the potential of two Dream Teamers in their prime. Sadly, I'll never know if playing it safe was the right call. I'm being pulled back to 1992, where I get to do this all over again.

Before Watchmen: Time for a Vietnam comic

J.G. Jones really is a terrific cover artist, and I unabashedly love this one. Some people might think it's cheesy to have the blood trail perfectly in the shape of Vietnam, but it works for me. Vietnam was one of the darker chapter in the Comedian's life, and perhaps his biggest regret. During his drunken confessional with Moloch, Eddie Blake hinted at even worse deeds he committed than killing the woman pregnant with his child. So this cover actually gets me excited to explore this era.

Tim Bradstreet's variant is an even more beautiful work of art. I love the black-and-white on yellow. It's edgy and moody and grabs my attention right away. True, it doesn't give any indication of what the story inside is going to be about, but that's not the purpose of a variant cover. An odd, but intriguing choice is swapping out the Comedian's trademark smiley face button for Dr. Manhattan's symbol. There is potential for an interesting story there — perhaps Eddie was originally a fan of Dr. Manhattan, only to learn the hard way just how devoid of empathy the world's most powerful being is. Sadly, that story is not in this issue.

Looking for an excuse to throw in more real-life celebrity cameos, Brian Azzarello opens this issue at the boxing match between Sonny Liston and Cassius Clay (later to be known as Muhammad Ali). Eddie has ringside tickets with Robert Kennedy, who has oddly chosen this extremely public and noisy setting to discuss his upcoming Senate run. Eddie tells Robert he's been asked to go to Vietnam, but Robert advises him to avoid it.

Naturally, Eddie ignores his friend's advice and gleefully starts butchering enemy troops as soon as he gets the chance. Azzarello then diverts into a lengthy, generic Vietnam War tale that really doesn't seem to have anything to do with the Comedian or Watchmen at all. We're introduced to a handful of commanding officers who are frustrated by their lack of resources. They realize the only way to win this conflict is to enlist the aid of local sympathizers, but they need some cash to actually arm those locals. So they enlist the aid of a drug dealer, helping him sell drugs to America, which in turn funds their off-the-books war activities.

It's all ... fine, I guess. If you're in the mood for a comic about Vietnam. But that's not what I was looking for. I wanted a story about the Comedian, taking place in the unique universe of Watchmen. There's absolutely nothing in this story that couldn't have happened in any other story or movie about the Vietnam War. There's nothing the Comedian does that couldn't have been done by any other run-of-the-mill anti-hero who plays by his own rules.

I'm fine if Azzarello and Jones wanted to make a comic like this. But that should have been a separate series under the Vertigo label — not disguised as a Watchmen comic. This issue is not only disappointing, but it's a little insulting.