Unca Cheeks the Toy Wonder's Silver Age Comics Web Site!
Political Dissent In
the Comics of the Silver Age
[Part Seven]
The Batman using the phrase "Right On" in
a sentence. Truly, these were the End Times. 
Silver Age
comics scribe Bob Haney has received no little amount of after-the-fact
flack from the modern-day fannish hoi poloi for his auctorial efforts
on the now (sadly) defunct THE BRAVE AND THE BOLD title, wherein -- each
and every month; without fail -- the Caped Crusader would team up with
some other DC Comics superstar of equivalent (or lesser) magnitude.
The conventional "wisdom" (note quotation marks) of the day is that the
redoubtable Mr. Haney's stories were "silly," as well as (oh, horrors
-- !) "out of continuity" vis-
"Silly" is as "silly" does, I suppose. Granted, Mr. Haney's works were
(often as not) imbued with a measure of antic playfulness which has,
regrettably, long since fallen out of favor with today's All Angst, All
the Time readership; a willingness to let the characters (every so often) look
just the slightest bit "off-balance," or even downright ridiculous...
just as if they were, in other words, Real People underneath the spandex and
the code-names and the bunting. Just imagine.
Still: I, for one, will very nearly always swallow that brand of "silliness," if doing so is the coin requisite for a tale entertaining and well-told, overall... and the simple fact of the matter is this: Bob Haney's tenure on THE BRAVE AND THE BOLD demonstrably did entertain comics readers for well over a decade, with said title maintaining its healthy monthly status all that time.
In today's (supposedly) "superior" comics market... such an achievement would
practically qualify the man for full knighthood.
None of which, however, is to say that I'm not above giving "The Commune of Defiance [THE BRAVE AND THE BOLD #102; July, 1972; Bob Haney, scripter; the magnificent Jim Aparo, penciler] the patented Cheeks, the Toy Wonder "treatment," in the paragraphs to follow...
... because -- even given that this was a Bob Haney story, after all
-- we're talkin' seriously deranged, here.
While pursuing a small-time mugger by the rather telling name of "Fast" Frankie, the Batman ends up within the none-too-aesthetically- pleasing boundaries of "Barclayville -- the city's oldest section! I haven't put foot in it in years!"
Just as the Batman has brought the criminal low-life down with a flying tackle,
and is about to massage the latter's gums for a cheery panel or three... the
two are suddenly confronted by a quintet of inner-city teenagers referring to
themselves as "The Young Aquarians." [Again: see page reproduction,
above. From left to right: Lawyer; Mother Earth; Ben
Ahmed; leader Jamie; and Needles. God strike me dead
if I lie.]
"Don't listen to 'em, Batman!" the panicky Frankie squeals. "They're young
hoodlums... they think they're vigilantes... but they're crazy!"
(... the old hoodlum said, to the guy who thinks he's a vigilante,
and who really IS crazy. I'm just sayin'.)
"Hate to agree with scum," the Batman grudgingly admits; "... but he's right.
You can't take the law into your own hands!" (Wellllll...
not in Gotham, at any rate. Not without a costume and a waycool
code- name.)
"You want to rap legal jive?" Jamie retorts. ""We've got our own expert! Tell him, Lawyer!"
The Aquarian known as "Lawyer" -- who, incidentally, is sporting both an expensive-looking suit and a virtual crew-cut; oh yeah... he's a rebel. Probably goes home and "grooves" to old Herb Alpert records) -- rattles off an ancient Gotham City ordinance explicitly bequeathing all residents therein the right to establish their own crime-pummeling posses when "aggrieved by uncontrolled crime."
"Ben Ahmed" and "Needles" make some low, rumbling noises about dragging "Fast" Frankie away for a little good, old-fashioned "justice," Barclayville-style; the Batman rasps a warning to the effect that "I don't want to use violence..." towards them; the rotund, muu-muu'd "Mother Earth" shrills back with: "Hypocrite! That's what you're famous for!"; and it looks as if the Masked Manhunter is about two, maybe three seconds away from opening up a can o' Bat-WhupAss on the cast of ROOM 222, here...
... when Jamie steps in with: "Okay, Batman: we'll give you a chance to prove the law's straight... but if it finks out, we start playing it our way again!"
"Deal," the Batman agrees, dragging a smirking Frankie behind him. "Come on, Frankie... to renew these kids' faith, you're going to do a stretch for assault and robbery!"
("By the Prophet cat's beard," Ben Ahmed bellows. "We've heard
that jive before!" However: nobody threatens to beat him
up for Egregiously Awful and Inane Teen Lingo Beyond the Call of Duty.
Dammit.)
The next day, a dispirited Batman returns to Barclayville to inform the Aquarians
that "the charges were dismissed... the victim never saw Frankie...
no positive identification! Also, there was no wallet on
him... lack of evidence!" (Bob Haney -- it should be noted -- never
met an elipses he didn't like, or a conjunction that he did. Everybody
ended up sounding like George Bush in his comics.)
As it turns out, the contemptuous youths are not only well aware of this latest development, "uncontrolled crime"-wise; they lead the Batman to a storefront (bearing the innocuous-seeming legend SONNY'S TRAVEL AGENCY on its window) where "... you'll see him [Frankie] splitting the proceeds with Barclayville's crime queen -- ANGEL LEE!"
" 'Sonny's Travel Agency'...?" the Batman muses -- apparently, not really all that concerned that "Angel" is busy having her jaw re-aligned by Frankie, right there, in broad daylight -- "Not the Sonny Trask doing two to five years in the state pen...?"
Well... yes.
Sonny, apparently, is still running (in the words of the motormouthed Jamie)
"all [of] Barclayville's crime action through Angel... his loyal
chick!"
The Aquarians rush to Angel's defense, only to have the moll-in-
waiting shrewishly inform them: "Don't lecture me! I can take care of myself! And now, you teenage freaks -- GET OUT OF HERE!"
"Okay, Aquarians," a grim-visaged Batman confesses, later on that same day. "You've made me a believer! Gotham City's copping out on Barclayville!"
(Geez... first with the "right on," on this issue's cover; now a "copping
out," by Page Seven. What the heck is this, anyway: the Batman
of Earth-Woodstock...?)
As it turns out: Gotham City is, indeed, "copping out" on Barclayville. The Aquarians show the Batman a copy of an official notice, informing the residents of B-ville that the entire area (!!) is slated to be razed to the ground two days later (!!), as part of an "urban renewal" project.
"Aquarians are positive... preservers of the groovy values!" the increasingly tiresome Mother Earth, ummmm, stoutly declares. "... so we can't let 'em tear our turf down around our ears, guys! We gotta fight back! Get with it, tigers!"
A furious Batman storms his way into a meeting of the city council on the kids' behalf, thundering: "Listen to me! These kids need your ears... and your hearts! All they want is a chance to change their ghetto themselves... THEIR way! We've all been guilty of neglecting Barclayville... now we want to bury our mistakes under a pile of rubble!"
No Dice, the council (sneeringly) inform the disbelieving hero. "The
contracts are signed... the vote is final! The demolition
begins as scheduled!" (In TWO DAYS, mind you. Boyoboy...
gonna be one heck of a lot o' dead bodies turning up, once workers
start shifting through all that rubble; that's all I can say.
Do any of the people on this council even think about re-election?
"Vote For Smithers: He Killed a Whole Lot of Kids and Old People."
Geeeeeeeez...!)
The sullen Aquarians skulk off into the nighttime shadows, with the Batman musing: "Those kids are really bitter, now! They might try something drastic! I need my own team of 'generation gappers'... and fast!"
The following morning, the Aquarians are confronted by Robin; Kid Flash; Speedy; Wonder Girl; and Mal Duncan: the Teen Titans.
"We'll lay it on you straight, Aquarians," an earnest Robin confides in them. "We could have made this scene in our other identities... like spies! We're in uniform... so right off, you'd know where we're at! Okay?"
("... like spies"...? With none of the guys on this team sporting
hair that extends anywhere past the tops of their EARS? In 1972
-- ?!? Shyeah. Right. These guys made David Cassidy
and the Partridge Family look like Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead,
f'chrissakes! "... like spies." Oh, please.)
Needles and Ben Ahmed (that wacky, fun-loving couple of goofs!) inform the
adventurous adolescents that they plan to turn away the bulldozers and whatnot
due on the morrow with -- apparently -- a switchblade and a Pez dispenser in
the shape of a pistol. ("The ghetto's a life-taker, baby,"
Ben Ahmed solemnly intones. Boy... was that Bob Haney "street," or what?
Word UP -- !!)
"These kids
are on a downer to nowhere," a stone-faced Robin informs
his fellow Titans, sotto voce (and sounding remarkably like a cross
between old Dobie Gillis supporting character "Maynard G. Krebbs"
and Mike Meyers' "Austin Powers"), "... unless we can swing
something!"
That much being agreed
upon by the group in toto, the Titanic Teens swing into action by...
asking if they can "crash" at the commune for the night. (Action,
baby! YEAH! *Whew* -- !)
The next morning, Titans and Aquarians alike are rudely awakened from their sleeping bag'd slumber by the ominous klank-klank-klanking of something like umpty-gazillion bulldozers rumbling their implacable way down the street... and directly towards the Aquarians' ramshackle "pad!"
The Titans promptly stride out onto the center of the road... and lie down right in the path of the oncoming bulldozers!
"I dig," an awestruck Jamie breathes, as he and his fellow Aquarians watch, thunderstruck. "It's civil disobedience! No violence... just using your brains and your guts!" One by one, he and the other Barclayville teens follow suit, stretching themselves out alongside the silent Titans.
"I... I hope those hard-hat jokers know what 'civil disobedience' is, Robin!" Jamie mutters to a seemingly imperturbable Boy Wonder.
"Check, Jamie," Robin agrees. "I'd hate for us to be their first and
last lesson!" (Yeah... well: the ghetto's a life-taker,
baby. Just ask "Gangsta" Bob Haney.)
The Batman swings down from out of nowhere, directly onto the cab of the lead 'dozer. "Driver!" he barks. "Keep right on rolling! Turn on the speed -- RUN RIGHT OVER THOSE TEEN ANARCHISTS!"
A truly caring author might have had the machine's driver do precisely that -- if only to shut Mother Earth and Benn Ahmed up, once and for all -- but, alas and alack: the Gotham Guardian's reverse psychology ploy proves effective, and the massive 'dozers shudder to a collective halt. A few moments later, both the Mayor AND Commissioner James Gordon screech up to the curb in a state car.
"We got word that you've been helping these junior revolutionaries defy the city, Batman -- !" the Mayor blusters.
"Not I, Mr. Mayor" the Batman calmly replies. "It was the 'dozer drivers who stopped! They've got more sense than a certain politician who'd have been impeached if there'd been a tragedy here today!"
After spluttering about "political blackmail" and whatnot for a panel or two, the Mayor (grudgingly) makes the following concession: "Aquarians -- Barclayville is yours! At the end of thirty days, if it's still in its present state -- it comes down! If it's chaanged... the city will reconsider its demolition order!"
What follows is a split-screen montage of the various Titans and Aquarians, working individually and together to raise property values in the decrepit neighborhood. Wonder Girl and Mother Earth re-paint storefronts and apply wallpaper to tenement walls (I know... I know...); Kid Flash indulges in a little hyper-accelerated street cleaning; Speedy becomes The Great White Rat Hunter; and Robin, Mal and Ben Ahmed go out and whup up on sundry and assorted drug pushers all the live-long day.
(Later that evening, Speedy and Needles were seen aimlessly wandering the newly-gentrified streets of Barclayville, their gazes hollow and desperate and wanting.
("Whattya mean, 'They got rid of all the @#$%in' pushers, maannn...?" a jittery Speedy wailed to his comrade-in-addiction; his eyes darting frantically from alleyway to shadowy alleyway. "All of 'em? ALLLL of 'em -- ?!?"
("I know, dude," Needles whimpered, shivering uncontrollably and hugging himself. "I got a moneky on my back the size of Mighty Joe Young, awright? I'm, like, hurtin' for certain. Let me smoke one of them bad boys this time, howzaboutit...?"
("No freakin' way, Heroin Lad," the surly teen archer snarls in reply, sticking yet another arrow into his mouth and attempting to light it. "The ghetto's a life-taker, baby.")
Okay; okay. That was my mandatory Making-Fun-of-Speedy thing, is all.
I'm... y'know... better, now. I feel refreshed; I can move on.
Anyway: Angel Lee (Remember her? The blonde travel agency moll?) sahsays by, during the clean-up proceedings, and informs Jamie and the Aquarians: "Okay, you freaks... you rousted Sonny's boys [i.e., the pushers and suchlike]... but Sonny's coming home from the pen, Saturday... and it's you who'll be running then!" Neener-neener-neener.
The Batman, however, confronts Angel a little after that, informing her that he's taken the liberty of examining the account ledgers she's been keeping at Sonny's behest, while the rat's been cooling his heels in the joint... and: that said records prove she's being set up to take a fall for Mr. Right, once he's released that weekend.
"You're lying," a tearful Angel rages. "Trying to con me -- !"
"This doesn't lie," the Batman intones, hefting the ledger towards her.
"Only your handwriting... your signature ever appears in it!
And I found bills of sale for heisted goods... ALSO in your
name!" Boy... somebody ought to arrest this guy, or somethi
-- oh. Oh... waaaiit a second
Come Day Thirty, and the Aquarians and Titans are throwing a massive celebratory block party for all the Barclayville residents, in honor of a job well done by one and all...
... when who should show up, all of a sudden, but the infamous "Sonny"... and a tough-looking sextet of his very favoritest goons, to boot.
For reasons which all but passeth human understanding, the (purportedly) pacifistic Aquarians challenge Sonny and Company to a BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK-style knock-down-drag-out for the "right" to determine the community's future: Groovy, Blissed-Out Happening Scene, or Corrupt, Drugged-Out Shooting Gallery. The kids (initially) take much the worst of the initial exchange of blows.
"Robin!" Kid Flash exclaims. "We have to help... those Aquarians aren't tough enough!"
"Easy, Flasher!" the Boy Wonder cautions, holding the speedster back.
"They have to do their own thing... their way!" (Even, apparently,
if "their thing" is Massive Internal Hemorrhaging. Maybe the next
time he needs some "generation gappers," the Batman should phone the Justice
Society of America. I'm just sayin', is all.)
"But" -- in the captioned words of Rapmaster Haney G -- "as youth and hope come up against cunning and guile," the tide of battle begins to turn in favor of the determined Aquarians, and Sonny's boys start to toppling like so many dominoes...
... right up until the moment, that is, when Sonny smashes their leader, Jamie, to the ground with a hammerblow to the skull.
The Batman is there in a heartbeat, collaring the startled Sonny and barking: "That's all for you, Trask... you're under arrest!" Applying pressure to the thug's wrist, the Darknight Detective reveals to one and all that Sonny had, seconds earlier, secreted a roll of pennies in his closed fist: "... an old hoodlum trick," he adds, disapprovingly.
Snarling that "... nobody manhandles Sonny Trask," the ex-con whips out a handgun, and levels the barrel directly at the Batman's heart --
... only to be stunned, in turn, by the arrival of a similarly gun-wielding Angel, who -- apparently -- has finally found enough time to lip-read her way through five or six of those incriminating ledgers the Batman mentioned back on Page Seventeen.
One thirty caliber "divorce" later ("... you'll get
off lightly, Angel," the Batman reassures the sobbing young woman.
"Self-defense... and extenuating circumstances." Geez... now
the psycho thinks he's Judge Dredd, f'cryin' out loud...), the story
ends with the final score Nakedly Stereotypical Young People: 1;
Everybody Else In the Whole Wide World: Nada.
Okay. So: I keep promising you lovely, patient people a gander at two or three actual, for real, no foolin' good "social commentary" stories of the period... and yet -- time and time again -- I selfishly continue to inflict stuff like this upon you.
There are two possible reasons for this unseemly, un-"host"-like behavior:
1.) Uncle Cheeks has just entirely lost control of this sub-section, and keeps adding old stories as they continue to occur to him; orrrrrr --
2.) Uncle Cheeks is evil, wicked, mean and nasty.
Overlooking, for the nonce, the observation that these two possibilities are not, de facto, mutually exclusive ones... I'll 'fess up to the former charge. I've simply been shamelessly... whaddyacallit... indulging myself, here; having way, waaaaaay too much fun with certain four-color "fish" in this here rhetorical "barrel."
Let me make it up to you all, here and now.
The final two pages of our POLITICAL DISSENT IN THE COMICS OF THE SILVER AGE entry, following immediately...
... with G-O-O-D stories. By (respectively) Dennis O'Neil and Steve Englehart.
I feel as if I owe you that much.
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE ONE
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE TWO
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE THREE
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE FOUR
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE FIVE
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE SIX
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE EIGHT
Political Dissent In the Comics of the Silver Age: PAGE NINE
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