According to Hendri Le Madeupname, conscious reality is a figment of all our collective imaginations, spat out and dealt with by some toe-jam called Fred. And if not Fred, then it's most probably John Layman, Aaron Lopresti, and Art Thibert, in this comic book Published by: DC Comics, in March, 2014. I think.

To QUOTE Albert Einstein: 'Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one'.

I know I'm not mad. I never have been. I'm just someone who's been tricked into believing that the world around him has been transformed into some sort of paradise.

But no. No it hasn't. I know it hasn't because Killer Croc isn't a real orderly. Harleen Quinzel isn't a real doctor. And Selina Kyle isn't my real sidekick either.

I know these things for I am the Batman. The one-time Arkham inmate who has figured out that the Scarecrow has tainted the air supply with another one of his evil concoctions. And now -- now -- with some help from Poison Ivy, I'm going to put an end to his crazy shenanigans, once and for all.


Or maybe next time.

Overall I'd say this second part of 'Gothtopia' was a pretty decent read. Initially I liked seeing the alternate versions of Batman's rogues' gallery incorporated into this tale. Especially Killer Croc. As it's nice little touches like these that make a tale such as this one all the more special to sit down and follow.

Also, I best mention how I enjoyed reading John Layman's first-person Bat-narrative. Not only because it managed to progress the story along at a very earthy pace. But because it additionally presented a stark tone that was greatly aided by Aaron Lopresti's bold visuals, despite them being occasionally hindered by Art Thibert's marginally flat inking style.

Oh! And before I forget, I must say that I got a right kick out of that scene where Ivy kissed Bat's on the lips. Honestly, how he tried to explain away this smacker was a scream I tell you. A real scream. 

Yeah. Right, Bat's. I believe you. Millions wouldn't. Hehehehe!

To be completely honest with you, my friends, I'm not what you'd call a big fan of this type of alternate-reality style story-line. Now please don't get my wrong. I have nothing against with what it's attempting to do or how it's attempting to do it. But rather, I'm none too keen on how this variety of premise always comes across somewhat hollow in execution and redundant thereafter. And largely never has any sort or longer lasting side-effect once the tale eventually comes' to a close.

Know what I mean?

On an aesthetic level this adventure is about a crazy sob-of-a-b*tch -- or gangster -- who has transformed the world around him into some sort of topsy-turvy 'Garden of Eden' -- or paradise.

Now can you see where I am going with this, folks? No? Shame. Cause Coolio can.

Now without giving too much away, there was a rather titivating scene in this adventure where I actually wanted to reach out and throw a bucket of water over Batman's head. So that's what I'm going to compare it to. A bucket of water. Not because it was wet. But because it needed to be doused down in places.

If this story was an actual human being, sitting down at a table situated in a nightclub somewhere in a snazzy part of town, I'd ignore him. I'd ignore him because he wouldn't be the sort of person I usually hang around.

OK. I know that a few of you out there might find my remark as being somewhat obtuse. Surmising that I should be more open minded with these types of tales. But with hand of my heart I've done just that so many different times in the past, presently I can do no more than to grin and bear the experience, hoping that the final pay off is well-worth the journey.

Please. Don't take my missive incorrectly, my friend. I'm a big Bat-fan. And I've always championed his adventures, his creators, and his different avenues of life. It's just that these alternate reality thingies consistently seem to rub me up the wrong way, no matter how good they ultimately are.

Fingers cross. I prey this one is relatively painless. It is so far.