Legend-Slayer Will Bradley Rides Yet Again-Pulls The Hammer Down On The Action Junkies Of The So-Called "Justice League"-Drops Batman, Flash-Aqua-man, Wonder Woman and Assorted Other Dopes Down Into The Abyss (2017)- A Film Review, Of Sorts

By Will Bradley

No question with this third straight debunking of overblown, fake or undeserved so-called legends assignments I have now found my niche in this business. (see the “reviews” of Man of the West the laying bare of the legend of stone-cold killer Link Jones and The Man In The Iron Mask the ripping asunder of the legend of one D’ Artagnan and his three drunken comrades of the Musketeer outfit that protected “sainted” Louis XIV for the other two anchors of this trifecta) Now have, since he gave me the assignments and go ahead in the first place the confidence of site manager Greg Green in case of any blowback. In case in our wicked divide age and society any diehard aficionados of the various legends that I have, documents and other proof in hand left totally deflated (with the  one sour exception of so-called aviation pioneer Johnny Cielo which has baffled me no end and which will be analyzed below since finishing this nefarious Justice League gang will be short work) decide that they have to do bodily harm of some sort to the messenger, to me and those who are starting to cohere around me in this on-going crusade against fakers from every age.

So, generally, I am feeling very well now that I will have covered the old-time legends that haunted a lot of the generation of ’68 dreams as kids, according to Si Lannon. Although for the life of me a couple of very wide generations removed from those dope-addled bastards who are crying to the high heavens for Greg to move the operation back to Boston so they can suck up all the dope in the world, or what is available now that Massachusetts has weed up the ying-yang, I don’t know why. Nor do I know why one of the older writers, Si, Sam, Seth, couldn’t move away from the bong long enough to have taken a stab at breaking down the encrusted press agent, publicity house bull built up around genuine bad guys like Sherlock Holmes and his dear friend Doc, Robert Locklear aka Robin Hood, Old West stone- cold killer Link Jones and the others I have knocked for a loop. (By the way I am not claiming I have dented, not yet anyway,  the ancient Greek and Roman bastards who had serious guys like Homer, Ovid, Virgil running their press operations but I am working on that as I write the problem, a big one, is that the documents have either blown away with the wind or are inconclusive so al we have going is to break down the Homer-Ovid-Virgil press agent noise not as easy as it sounds.) Maybe since it required no heavy lifting but merely a sharp pen some newer ones. Given their total default I am here to top off in this latest trifecta of assignments Greg threw my way a modern, very modern set to debunk the silly costume characters who call themselves, self-described is I guess the best way to put it as the Justice League made up of junkies and con artists, with a sleigh of hand artist thrown in.    

Maybe I am making too much of it, certainly some fellow reviewers have thrown a jaded eye my way, but these successes in waking people up to what in the end is basically not matter what time period some press agent, some publicity maven’s free fall fantasy about whoever those pros were being well-paid to hype. Still it is nice to be able to take credit for putting a bastard like Robin Hood down, crack Don Juan’s totally fabricated exploits with the ladies, ditto one Johnny Casavova, turned around slave-trade Captain Blood on his heels, blasted cheapjack humdrum PI Sherlock Holmes or whatever name he is using these days and his dear friend Watson, Wadkins, or whatever he finally decided his name was and took down Old West legend Link Jones without a struggle.

Still, and I have had fellow reviewer eyes gaze up when I even mention this name these days, the legend of Johnny Cielo which I fully admit I have not been able to put the slightest dent into which has me concerned not only about people’s ability to swallow alternate facts completely but since Johnny’s case is relatively new makes me wonder about how I will do against the Justice League mystique which has had a massive build-up by their handlers. Bear with me a bit as I think out loud about that bastard Cielo who has some pretty ardent if weird devotees. The latest insult to anybody’s intelligence is the Friends of Johnny Cielo fan club I guess you would call it have rounded up some campesino, some peasant from the foothills of the Sierra Madre who claims that as a young man, a boy he remembers seeing a Beechcraft plane flying low overhead going toward the higher elevations where Fidel and the hermanos (and hermanas, lo siento for failing to mention them in  a previous review). As far as any records that I know of Johnny Cielo never piloted a Beechcraft only Piper Clubs like on that last fateful trip taking those well-heeled passengers to Naples from Key West down in Florida so unless they have something more than some vague recollections of a besotted peasant who some sixty years later suddenly comes up with this cock and bull story I rest my case for now. Although not breaking this silly legend still bothers the hell out of me.         

But forward. The last person, as least in the West, Western Civilization, as far as I knew to come back from the dead was Jesus Christ. And even in his case there was, is still plenty of controversy around the event witnessed only by his mother, some whore and a few drunken Roman soldiers who by most estimates were sleeping off hangovers when this resurrection supposedly occurred. So one really has to suspend disbelief when a guy named Superman, a caped crusader he calls himself when he is not on his day job as a reporter for some high circulation sensation rag in a place called Gotham, aka Metropolis which to my mind, and that of others I have talked to looks a lot like New York City comes back from the dead to do battle with a bunch of other freaks against an old man, a guy named Steppenwolf (not to be confused with the guy in a book by Herman Hesse or a 1960s rock group who played loud rock and roll around themes like denigrating the pusher man and desperately seeking parental help against the monster, against the government’s ’t all-out war against the Vietnamese and in the end against its own young). 

Five, count them five, cretins, five so-called bad asses, not including the previously mentioned Superman, the criminally insane and probable sexual predator Batman, some nerd on speed named Flash, a guy called Cyborg who was some kind of bionic man, a woman named Wonder Woman who had some great moves and lets leave it at that and a totally worthless geek named Aqua-man get in line to beat up on this poor old man, this Steppenwolf, who is looking for what must have been the fountain of youth, something like that and got nothing but grief for his efforts. Of course as usual with guys and here for the first time I get to take down a legendary woman they all have aliases, all trying to duck the law when all is said and down so we will just use their monikers and leave it at that. The story, at least the story on the police blotter when they were rounded up for harassing an old geezer was that he, “Step” was working for some criminal syndicate and so they had to snuff him out to purify the Earthian air. Yeah, right. Old Step though should be filing an age discrimination suit any day now and if there is any justice in this wicked old world he, or his estate, should win against this vicious mob of geeks and losers. Should send this unworthy tribe back to red state Kansas (Superman), the bat cave and dear Alfred (Batman), deep dark Amazon, mother of the mother of rivers (Wonder Woman), college (Flash), some hospital for a tune-up (Cy Borg) and that flaming disaster Aqua-man to downtown Atlantis where they belong not out here in the streets where things happen, happen when you don’t expect them to.