Step Right Up...

Ah yes. I see word is getting around about my little… operation. However, I felt the method lacked a little something; a little flair? a little humor, perhaps? No matter. I took it upon myself to make the changes necessary.

I do love art with a social conscience, don’t you agree? I love to… help the people. I’m sure Batty would agree that’s a worthy cause. It really is rather unfortunate that our ideas of what the people need differ so greatly. But I wonder how long dear Batman will be able to resist. What say you, Batman? Wouldn’t you like to join the party? Our carnival awaits you. The lights are bright and the madness oh so dark.

-J

Love's First Kiss Found On Level Six

What's black and white and red and green all over?



Batman's Envy.

Some people just *can't* take a joke.

East or West, North Or South....


http://www.whysoserious.com/

Oh how I do like to tease. An-tic-i-pa-tion is so much more fun when I get to see all my lovelies squirm.

I know what's best for you, even before you know yourself.

Tick, tock. Don't wait for the countdown, start looking now.

-J

The Joke That Killed

Who took this? Who took this picture damnit? I told you all my Jazzercise lessons were every THURSDAY not Tuesday damn you! You didn't even let me warm up before you started shooting! And you didn't even get a good face shot, damn you! (I shoot faces all the time though so if you ever do need lessons, please just give me a ring-a-ling.)

Still, you could have at least let me show you my killer smile. I worked so very hard to get it, so it deserves all the attention it can get, wouldn't you agree?

Anyway, back to the highly amusing picture at hand. Perhaps I was testing some of my newest equipment? Perhaps I'll test it out on you next time we come cross one another in a dark alley or at my favorite pie shop in Gotham. Maybe I'll use it on the nosy son of a bitch who took this shot without my permission.

For all you know, I could have been rehearsing my latest stand-up act. Yes, it's a little piece I've been working on for some time now you see and up until tonight, the show had been reserved for Commissioner Gordon and his daughter only but well, you've twisted my arm and I expect you to be there, on time, front row. I'll bring the rope. Don't worry, it's part of the act. This is all for a good cause, you know. You do want to stick your neck out and go the extra mile for charity, don't you?

It may even allow me to use my new camera...

SMILE!

-J

Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! How I wonder what you're at.

Oh my friends, how excited am I? I have been planning all week for just this evening and finally, finally, it is here.

You see, I’m off tonight to a small little affair. A party of two. Oh, how I love a good party!

And I am sure dear friends, (and I see that I have so many new ones!) that you must wonder, as I did, “What is this party you speak of, and why wasn’t I invited as well?”

I know, isn’t it rude to not extend invitations to ALL friends? I need to have a word with Batman about that. He loves to exclude ME from all his little tête-à-têtes.

So it’s divine comedy I tell you that his dearest friend, that ole Gordon has invited ME to meet him. Oh Batman, how does it feel now to be so excluded?

Now, now, it’s not a *proper* party, as one would expect. No, no. You see, I have this, acquaintance who stopped by to tell me that the dear Commissioner was desperate to see me. Oh, I do love when someone is desperate. And who am I to refuse such desperation?

And this acquaintance, well, shall I say former? He was all too happy to share this news with me, after we had a little red wine of course.

What do you they say? A little red, and a little dead? Or is it wine is fine, but mutilation is divine? It doesn't matter, really. The important part is that I have procured my invitation to a little party of two. It seems that Gordon is favoring rooftop gatherings these days, and my friend was so kind to provide an address, right before he had to leave us.

I am sure Batman will be jealous. I imagine HE isn’t doing anything tonight. Oh how sad, the little Batty has no one to play with!

So certain am I that the Commissioner and I will hit it off that I am going to bring him a little present. Because as you all know, it is polite to always bring a gift to a party.

Strychnine and red wine, they do go so well together. Bitter on bitter is so sublime!

Oh, speaking of bitter. Batman, I am sure you are reading this. We might even leave the light on for you.

Lonely, party of one, lonely...party of one. Your table is now available!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

J.

Maybe this Heath kid could be my patsy, after all.

What the devil is that thing? A board on wheels? No, no, no dear friends only the Joker truly travels in style, not on something as simple and insignificant as a piece of wood on four tires. Where is my car? Where is my purple stretch limo? Where is my private jet that I worked so hard to…obtain?

Is that that darling man Heath Ledger on that board of wheels? Please do tell me it is. In that case, well I may have to reconsider my previous statements.

Love the make up, kid.

J.

Batman never calls me anymore

Hello and Hello Again,

If you’re here then you must be a Friend, and oh, I do have so very many of those.

And then there is Batman, but we’ll get back to him.

I am giddy and over-the-moon to be writing this for you all. I bought a computer with the intent of blowing it up into tiny little pieces (why are there no purple computers?) until I thought better of it. There is a fabulous party in progress out here in cyberspace, and it’s been going on without me, if you can even imagine that.

Speaking of parties…

Batman, you cad (told you I’d get back to him). I passed you in an alley and you barely spoke, not to mention the unsightly dents that my car sustained from whatever it was that you accidentally threw at it. You really must rein in that temper of yours.

As if that wasn’t hurtful enough, you had one of your very exclusive rooftop seminars with Good Ole Gordon and you seemed miffed when I arrived. Surely my invitation to this meeting got lost in the mail. That effete alliance needs a bit of intellectual spark, don’t you agree?

But enough of that, my dear readers. The true purpose of this endeavor is to counteract the nasty rumors that some people like to circulate, and to give you more of what you want in its purest form: ME.

Visit often and do be careful out there, Gotham is teeming with lunatics. I should know…

Yours truly,

J.

End Game

The streets of Old Gotham
Meander like an elderly ambassador,
Avenues laid down when hoof and wagon
Were still the City's sole conveyance.
But since the advent of the combustion engine
(yes I know my history),The systole and diastole
of the City's heart is now the center of commerce;
Its uniform grid such lovely little squares,
So perfect....so populated.

Shall we play?

Black pawn to b6. Your move.
White knight to c3. Interesting.
Did you know that the Moors
Invented this game? Did you know
That Crowley could play two
Just in his mind, and beat both opponents.

I'm gaining on you.
Black bishop to b4; oh pity, I took your rook.
Have you read De Profundis? I did.
Wilde said each man kills the thing he loves.
Black queen to e4; check.

It takes more than skill to win, my friend;
It takes a certain will of the mind
Which I have in spades. And in your hand
Is a pair of deuces, going nowhere;
But that is a different sort of game.

Who is the dark knight who shall nab
Your precious queen? Who is the one who will
Castle you to oblivion? You know his name,
And you know his game, and the end game is mine
So checkmate.

And beneath the killing joke of the grinning moon
Rising above the rotting streets of Gotham
The White Queen runs like the ooze of refuse
Straight to me, to me.

He who laughs last, laughs loudest.

An Invitation to Dinner

The scurry of tiny claws keeps time
To the drip-drip of leaden pipes above.
There's a world that awaits beneath the world
With its own sort of minor-noted Requiem.
I am its maestro, its Viennese composer
And I shall make you dance to its tune.

Dance upon a ballroom floor of broken glass
Waltzing Matilda through the bloody shards.
Barefoot and writhing, like Salome, or John
Tell me, Sir; may I have this dance?
The evening's like wine, and the music is fine
And I shall make you sing to its tune.

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocketful of rye
The knife's edge calls forth the highest C.
My tempered steel is a nimble bow
Upon the Stradivaric twisting of your lips.
And dinner's at nine, and the music's like wine
And I shall make you smile to its tune.

A smile the shape and shadow you gave me.