Love(s) of My Life: Diana

ID: Let’s talk about the other big costumed temptation from your past: Wonder Woman. We’ve saved her in part because I think we’ve casually mentioned her a lot in the past, and if I’d had to put money on it, when we started, my money would have been on her being your ‘the one’- though I still think I might be right about that.

But I’m less interested in how you met, since I’m sure it was punching people over some kind of fashion-related crime- possibly your own. But how did you two kids get together?

B: I know you’re going to criticize, because there’s a pattern, here, similar to the pattern of journalists I’ve dated. But I “work” nights; and consequently, I don’t get out much. So a great deal of my socializing happens at fund-raisers and things.

I think it was a cancer benefit- breast and prostate. She was hosting, and mingling with people. Some jerk goes off about AIDS funding for Africa. And at first she let it slide; it was a fund-raiser, not a debate. But the guy, he either had too much champagne or a too big a mouth, because he kept it up, and when nobody punched him he got more belligerent and loud about it. And even then, I think maybe Diana would have just nicely escorted him out, but she saw a look in my eye- cause I really wanted to deck the prick- and I think she got protective of me.

ID: I imagine AIDS funding is a touchy subject for you.

B: If you consider there to be an actual fight against AIDS, the front-line is unquestionably in Africa. If we don’t stop it there, continued globalization will ensure that it doesn’t stay Africa’s problem. To use an easier to understand metaphor, Africa are our neighbors, but if the flood waters overtake their land then ours will be flooded, too; so it makes sense to help them with the sandbags- even in purely selfish terms it makes sense.

But I think in a lot of ways AIDS, like lung cancer, is a disease we blame people for. We look at them and say, you know, “You made a lousy life decision so you deserve to be there.” Which I think is complete and utter horse crap. I absolutely agree that people shouldn’t smoke, have unprotected sex or share needles; you’ll get no argument out of me that those are problems, and invite consequences. But, and maybe it’s just the religion my mother taught me bubbling up, but, “You made your choice now die in the gutter,” doesn’t seem at all like a reasonable response.

But moral outrage is beside the point, because who hasn’t had unprotected sex? Maybe in the context of a monogamous relationship, even a marriage, but who goes an entire life without doing that at least once? You?

ID: God no. I’m pretty sure I started having unsafe sex. In a monogamous relationship, like you said, but even that first time I think I went bareback.

B: Don’t get me wrong, I completely advocate for safety- everyone should be aware of the danger and risk when they have sex- particularly because even condoms aren’t a completely safe alternative. But this finger-waggling, it’s the blind hypocrisy of abstinence-only sex ed applied to an entire culture- a whole continent, after the fact.

But there are still parts of Africa where “No,” doesn’t mean “No” in the same sense that it does, here- I mean, a woman’s right to say “No” doesn’t carry the same weight.

ID: Then maybe we should just give AIDS funding for women.

B: I suppose that’s an argument. But this isn’t a problem we should be trying to treat, it’s one we should be trying to annihilate. Because giving a woman expensive drugs to stay alive is a losing battle. Even trying to eliminate rape- something we’ve failed to do even over here- is a pipe dream- and I swear to God I will punch you in the throat if you turn that into a laying pipe dream joke.

ID: Wouldn’t dream of it.

B: Many women in Africa get AIDS from their husbands who’ve slept around, and I would be shocked if the same doesn’t happen to men, too. What we need to do is to tackle a culture that doesn’t treat AIDS with the proper gravity. There are still parts of the continent where AIDS misinformation is rampant. Getting people to understand that they’re taking their lives into their own hands, that’s how you win this fight. By educating people, and then giving them the tools, like condoms, to protect themselves.

ID: So is it not okay to question AIDS funding in Africa?

B: No, that’s not what I’m saying. It’s important- imperative- that we question our government and keep them accountable. But my problem with that particular guy was the way he argued his point- not to mention the venue, which was completely unrelated. To my mind, AIDS funding is justifiable because it is trying to fight the disease before it can get to us. I think if we don’t spend this money today, we’ll end up spending exponentially more to fight it once it reaches our shores.

ID: Okay, we’ve been completely derailed on that one. Um, you and Diana were at a fund raiser.

B: She’d finally had enough with this guy, so she confronted him. She tried logic, reason, compassion. She ran through all the reasons why he was ignorant, and by the end not even subtly racist, I mean shouting epithets. Diana’s usually a pretty peaceful person, but I think since she entered into the fight on what she presumed was my behalf, she took the things he said more personally than she normally would have. I could see where things were headed when she balled her fists, and I intervened.

“You’ll punch right through his head,” I told her, “and ruin a very pretty dress.” She laughed, and that defused the situation. And I turned around and told the man he needed to leave.

He wanted me to make him. By that point I’d calmed down, so I just applied a simple arm hold- a painful one- and escorted him to the door. When I got back everybody applauded. It turned out to be one of the most successful fund raisers we’ve ever had. Nothing makes rich white people feel guiltier than hearing one of their own articulate the case against compassion. Were I a more cynical man I’d hire men to come to charity events to be jerks just to juice the contributions.

ID: I’ve been known to be an exceptionally belligerent jackass.

B: Sorry, we’re not hiring.

ID: Okay, but it seems like… I see A, I see C, but I don’t see B or how we got from A to C.

B: Diana was a little colder the rest of the night. She very rarely loses her cool, and when she does, I think… it worries her. An angry Amazon can do a lot of damage, and she’s supposed to be an ambassador of peace- I believe that’s a part of her official title.

It was sweet of her to defend my honor, I guess, but I think it made her ask herself why. And she was social, and fun and funny, and did a great job entertaining the rest of the night, but I recognized that she was more thoughtful than usual.

I let it lie. I didn’t know what was going on, but when Diana wants to talk, she does. And she did, after everyone had left. Eventually. She spent a lot of time looking off, at the city lights- this must have been in New York, because that’s the skyline I remember. But when she spoke she asked me if I really liked the dress.

I told her I didn’t know if it was the dress, but she looked stunning tonight. It was amazing that guy had been able to pick his jaw off the floor long enough to argue with her. And we’ve… we flirted before. I guess I never really thought about it, but I’m more dashing, debonair, at these kinds of events, than when I’m wearing the pointy ears. So we spent a lot more of our time bantering at functions. But I think that was the first time I’d ever seen her self-conscious, in an awkward way.

Diana is one of the most self-aware people I know, but I think she really wanted me to like the dress. I think she liked defending me. And liked that I could handle that. Some men can’t; and Diana is a strong woman, stronger than just about anybody. If you can’t handle the idea that a woman could toss you into the sun, then she just isn’t for you.

But she liked the intimacy of it. She knew my secrets, and not that many people did. She knew how fragile I was, but I didn’t balk at the idea of her knowing that. I think for her it was that right combination of vulnerability and strength.

She was intrigued, and for the first time I think she started to think about me in that way.

ID: That way? What are you, six?

B: I don’t mean sexually. Women think of me sexually often. Men, too. You, just now- it’s a human reflex. Like if I told you not to picture your grandmother naked.

ID: Ah! Damn you!

B: See. But I mean romantically. She started to wonder if we were romantically compatible.

ID: And what about you?

B: I was already there; I always had been. The first few minutes you spend with Diana, all you think about is her, how completely goddamn lovely she is. I challenge any man to spend five minutes with her and not think of her that way. But after that, it’s strange, but she’s such a stunning person, that you start to want to be with her, not just sexually, but completely. She’s not just beautiful, but brilliant, compassionate. I know Clark gets the messianic treatment a lot, but if Jesus were a woman you couldn’t take yours eyes off- but also capable and willing to punch an intergalactic genocidal maniac in the eyes to save lives- you’d be approaching Diana.

ID: So to take this that extra blasphemous step, you worship her?

B: Close, I suppose. Admire. Adore. Love, beyond a capacity I ever thought possible.

ID: And all this after the break-up.

B: I don’t know if we were every actually together, honestly, to call us broken up. We wanted to be. Danced around the issue. And we certainly saw each other for a while. But there was always a distance.

I remember more than one cancelled date, where I had to leave to deal with a costumed psychopath and she came with me in costume. I remember specifically this one night the Joker was doing cabaret in front of an audience, and it was a Speed kind of thing, where they had dynamite attached to their seats and if they stopped laughing they would blow up. I jumped down behind him onstage, and the audience started clapping. Then Diana lands right in front of him, and he actually pissed himself. I think he was just taking the joke that far, but he did, he pissed himself, and it was a long piss, too, twenty seconds easy. It had started to pool at his feet and flow downstage by the time he stopped.

And the look on her face was priceless, because she was trying to still stay scary, but she was also disgusted, and a little bemused. And she said, “I’m not carrying him out.” He turned back and looked at me, wiggled his eyebrows, and from the look I assumed he was going to chase her around soaking in piss, and I almost lost it, almost burst into laughter right there at the thought of the Joker chasing Wonder Woman around in his pissed-in drawers- but I knew that would not make her happy so I chucked a batarang at his head and conked him out.

ID: Sounds like a pretty weird date.

B: It was actually a pretty good one. We managed to salvage the evening by swinging by this little cheesecake shop that’s open late and going home to watch a movie. It was nice because… with Diana I didn’t have to be two people. Bruce and Batman were the same guy, and Diana was the same woman in the outfit or out it, and it gave the night a continuity I’m not used to.

I don’t think most people get to be loved, completely. We all have little parts of ourselves, our work selves, for instance, that are segmented off from the people we care about. But with Diana I was all of those men, and she loved all of them.

Which seems strange, now that I say it out loud, because Diana is the same. The Diana who is ambassador, who is a heroine, who I spoon-fed cheesecake to, they’re all the exact, same woman. Which isn’t to say that she’s not a complicated and multifaceted woman- only that all of her facets are always exposed- and if you turn that into a joke about her costume I’ll throw my coffee at your crotch-

ID: That’s an idle threat: you’re coffee’s cold.

B: It’s still wet, and could stain. But she’s… like a diamond that’s been cut in such a way that you can see every inch of it, its imperfections and flaws but also all the myriad things that make it beautiful.

ID: Okay. You’re still completely in love with her, and I’m still saying she should have been your number one, were you not a cheating bastard. But why did it end?

B: Like I was saying: I don’t think it ever began. I think we still care about each other, deeply. But that night I told you about was indicative of our time together. Duty called, incessantly, constantly. I was either having to jet off to Singapore to make sure a business deal didn’t fall through, or she was off to Washington to make sure a diplomatic flap didn’t flare into violence.

And that’s before you introduce the nutjobs in costume and the megalomaniacal world-destroyers. So one of those nights, where we were trying to have a date, I got a call, Clayface was doing some damage in the diamond district. And we were trying to wrap the night up- she had an early meeting at the embassy or she would have come with- when she got a call of a problem in New York.

I was about halfway into my costume when I got a call. Nightwing and Robin had taken care of Clayface. I called Diana, to see if she wanted some help with her New York problem, but she answered from the entrance to the cave. Apparently one of the Flashes had run through New York and taken care of it for her.

But standing in the cave, half in a suit and half in a batsuit, I think the message was clear. I could see it in her eyes, and when I looked down at myself, I knew it, too. I asked her what kind of a life that was. If we would ever be able to settle down. Have kids. Have a life to ourselves. And I think I would have kept asking questions like that, but she put her finger to my lips, kissed my cheek, and said, “I love you.” And I said, “Me, too.” And that was it.

I think in a better world, we’d have stayed together. A world with fewer madmen, fewer monsters. But for us, duty was a higher call. I have a bit more free time these days. But in part because of that, Diana has less.

And I’m not at my physical peak anymore. I get tired more easily. I certainly couldn’t go round after round with her like I used to. Sparring, I meant- so you can take remove that grin.

ID: I can’t, actually. The entendre was too fun. But do you think that matters? That you aren’t at your peak anymore? To her?

B: She was always physically my better. And I know I’ve aged. And she hasn’t. I think if there is such a person that could overlook that gap, it would be her. Maybe I’m just a self-conscious old man.

ID: But can’t she retire? I mean, at least her ambassadorship, let the Amazons send somebody else out to put out the political fires.

B: Not while there’s still good she can do. No matter who they sent, they wouldn’t be her. There’d be a learning curve, there’d be mistakes. And there’d be the fact that whoever it was, it wasn’t Diana. You can’t fill those shoes; there would always be a shadow over whoever replaced her, because of the mythic reputation she’s forged.

And I can’t fault her for that, without being a hypocrite- which I’d gladly do to have her. And perversely, her willingness to set what we had aside only makes me love her more. She’s selfless.

To an extent- somewhat selfish, somewhat empathic- I hope it’s something she can get over. Because she deserves to be happy. Even if it’s not with me. Even if it happens years after I’m dead. You can’t fix everything wrong with the world, and you can’t save it alone. And if you try to go it alone, eventually, you will fail. Because everyone, even Diana, needs people. And I don’t necessarily mean romantically, but there’ll come a time when she’ll people to keep her strong. And I hope by then she has them.

ID: So… is the reason you’re gay Diana? You can’t have the woman you want, so you’re barking up another tree?

B: I’ve never thought of it in those terms. Could be a factor. But does it matter? It’s who I am, today.

ID: But what if she flew through that window right now and said she’d found a way to transfer her powers to someone else, and she’s going to retire and be with you? What would you do?

B: I don’t know. But I do know that’s not going to happen- certainly not right now. Because right now, it’s a world without a Superman, with a greener Batman than it’s had in years. Right now, people need Wonder Woman more than they ever have before- and as much as it pains me to say, even more than me. And there is absolutely no chance Diana would let them down.

Love(s) of My Life: Barbara

ID: Which in a round-about way brings us to Barbara Gordon- the commissioner’s daughter, and all of the naughty naughtiness that implies.

B: Barbara was a friend. I knew Jim socially, though not personally- at least not personally outside of the costume. But Barbara, Barbara made Bane look like a primate. She figured out who I was without really trying. Just one day figured it out on her way to classes.

She wanted to help me, in my crusade. She saw how tortured her father was, how the bureaucracy made it almost impossible for him to protect people the way he wanted. So I guess she also wanted to help him, too.

I turned her away. It was too dangerous a life. And she was just a happy policeman’s daughter. She wanted to help, but… she should have been out volunteering for the homeless, or working at women’s shelters, or doing that kind of thing. Not swinging from rooftops or

ID: That seems like rather flimsy logic. I mean, you already had Robin running around in tights. Were you just afraid of a strong woman back then?

B: She was strong. She took martial arts classes and mastered several different disciplines. She graduated years ahead of time, I think she had just turned nineteen. If I had been recruiting, she would have been top of the list. But I wasn’t. I hadn’t really been recruiting when I found Robin, either, truth be told.

But at least with Robin, I had been able to keep him in check, keep him off the streets long enough for me to train him, to make sure he wasn’t going to get himself killed. I think my main worry was one of quality over quantity; I worried I might not be able to keep them both trained up and safe- or at least as safe as you can make someone whose running around in a cape punching violent criminals armed with guns.

ID: So you were being paternalistic- not technically sexist.

B: You continue to astound me with how big an ass you always manage to be.

ID: It’s a gift; maybe even a superpower. Maybe I could join the League as The Gigantic Ass.

B: I’m horrified at the costume possibilities.

ID: But for all of your good intentions in trying to keep Barbara Gordon out of harm’s way, harm managed to find her anyway, in the form of the Joker.

B: He was there primarily for her father, whom he was trying to drive insane. But he shot her, through the spine.

I still wonder… if I shouldn’t have killed him for that.

ID: What?

B: For all of my moralizing, all of the things I do honestly believe about my parents, and their legacy, and their memory. I don’t know if they would want him alive. If, for a moment, they weren’t dead, and I could ask them, should I kill him to keep people, people like Barbara Gordon, and like Jason Todd, safe, I don’t know if they’d say I shouldn’t.

And Barbara… that’s one of those moments, where I don’t know. I don’t know how I got through it without murdering him.

To her credit, Barbara doesn’t waver. She hates him, don’t get me wrong. But she’s a more forgiving person than I am. Maybe that’s just because… if I’d murdered him, I think her father would have gone insane. And if I’d murdered him, the Joker would have won; her injury would have been a part of his sick triumph, rather than a tragic happenstance. I don’t know. Sometimes it’s hard to get into Barbara’s head.

ID: That’s okay. I’m more interested in how you got into her pants.

B: Careful.

ID: Sorry, it was just too perfect a segue. But you’d just joined the roller brigade.

B: Yeah. In less than the space of a year, I went from being able to bench 600 lbs., to not being able to use my legs. And I was dangerously close to becoming a hugely self-important ass; I wanted to feel sorry for myself. The thing I’d spent my life working towards was slipping through my fingers, and I felt like I’d failed, and that I couldn’t not fail, from that moment on.

And then Barbara rolls into my bedroom. She’d been researching, not just Bane, but what he’d done, the criminals he’d loosed. She was already starting to formulate a plan, contingencies for Nightwing, Robin and the new Batman.

I was hostile. Even mean. But she bullied her way through, anyway, and all the time I barely looked at her. Then she asked if I’d been outside, since the accident. And I hadn’t. She said, “Let’s go for a walk.” And before I thought about it, I glowered at her. And then I realized, well, duh, she can’t literally walk, either. And I felt suddenly very silly, and also ashamed.

But she was there because she wasn’t going to let me wallow; she’d been there, and she knew where wallowing got you, or maybe she knew how dangerous the almost desire to wallow can be.

I had a chair of my own, but I hadn’t used it. I glanced towards it, but I had no idea how to get into it without sending it flying across the room. And she noticed. She taught me how to get into my chair. And I know that sounds small, but it was the first triumph I got after being paralyzed. She got me back on my feet- or at least, out of bed.

I was happy for a second, exhilarated; it seems silly now, but for an instant things seemed possible again, and there were reasons to be hopeful. And I kissed her. And she got really red in the face, but then she brushed it off, and I realized she was more mature than I’d been giving her credit for.

And, I think she always had kind of a schoolgirl crush on me. I think that’s part of where her wanting to run around with me in tights came from. But she hadn’t really been a girl for years by that point- she was a woman, completely. Which was something I don’t think I’d paid attention to.

ID: Because she’d been in a wheelchair?

B: I don’t think so. I think I… I got used to brushing her to the side. Because she was younger than me, young enough that it kind of weirded me out.

ID: Like in the early seasons of Buffy, where she’s completely hot but it’s still skeevy for Angel to date her.

B: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

ID: Liar.

B: Anyway, it started out pretty innocuously. She took me outside. And my home is very nice, but if you want to be depressive, and shut all the curtains, it can actually be a pretty cold and unhappy place. But outside, in the sun, with birds, and a clear sky. It was a different world than the one I’d convinced myself I would be stuck in.

And I think that encapsulates what I had with Barbara. She showed me different sides of the city, different sides of being alive. She was integral to my spiritual rehabilitation.

ID: Okay, but did you have sex with that woman?

B: I’m quite capable of hurting you.

ID: I find ‘no comment’ is more succinct, but I get your point. But it ended. How, and why?

B: Barbara was good for me, emotionally. Psychologically. But physically, I still had a lot of healing to do. And I think… some of the shine had come off. I was part of a white knight fantasy of hers. Even if I hadn’t been in the chair- the fantasy equivalent of trading my white horse for a donkey cart- even ignoring that aspect, I wasn’t, I couldn’t, ever live up to who she wanted me to be, or thought I was. Nobody can.

Every relationship has that point, where your preconceptions, and assumptions, and everything else, have all been peeled away, and you’re left with who they actually are day to day. And I think we liked each other, but that didn’t mean we wanted to pursue more.

And I remember we were in the Gotham Zoo, and we stopped by the tropical birds. She had hold of my hand, and she told me, “I love you, but I don’t know that I love you like this.” And I knew exactly what she meant. I think it was something I’d been thinking about, too. But I was glad she broached the subject- I’ve been known to womanize, and I didn’t- I didn’t want what we had to just be another example of that.

We decided to take a break. I was scheduled for some intensive physical therapy, and was going to be largely unavailable anyway. We decided to spend time apart, and if we really missed what we’d had, then we could go back to it, and if not, it was a pretty clean place to leave it.

And a lot happened in the interim, I’ll admit. But when we again had some time, I had her go first. She said she’d missed me, but because she missed spending time with me, not romantically. To emphasize the point she kissed me and said, “See, nothing there, right?”

I said, “You’re right on the merits, but you shouldn’t do that. You’re still a very beautiful woman, and I’m”

She interrupted me and said, “A dog?” Which, yeah. Pretty much. And we’re still excellent friends. And I wouldn’t trade that.

ID: I know there’s a ‘but’ in there- named Shondra.

B: Right. Well, she was part of that interim. But Shondra was my trauma therapist. She was more than that- in that she had some special healing powers. She’s the only reason I can walk, today, in fact.

ID: But I don’t care about that. See, it’s the other part of your relationship with Shondra that has me asking about her.

B: Fine. But shut up, and let me tell it my way.

We’d been working together for a few weeks. She was also working with Jack Drake at the time, who had also been paralyzed.

ID: That’s the bio-dad of Tim Drake, your second adopted son.

B: Right. Jack was a neighbor. And it was through him that I met Shondra. He was making a miraculous recovery. Doctors hadn’t thought he’d ever walk again, but instead he was wiggling his toes, he could even bend his leg from the knee down- you know, just a couple seconds at a time, but it was a faster recovery than anyone expected.

So I hired Shondra. And she was a miracle worker, no question. But then she was taken, along with Jack. Kidnapped by her brother. Eventually I tracked her to England and was able to free both of them, but like with what Barbara had suggested, suddenly not having Shondra, I realized what I had lost. And it was more than just a healer. I’d started to love her.

ID: So your road to recovery was paved with the bodies of compassionate, nubile women?

B: That’s not fair.

ID: You ran right from Barbara to the arms of your physical therapist; that summation sounds kind. Have you ever wondered if you’re just clinically co-dependent?

B: I get accused of being too much of a loner, most of the time. So co-dependent? I appreciate women. Greatly. They might be the only thing in life I really enjoy in anything approaching a normal capacity.

But, too, I think there was a, I’m sure there’s a clinical term that’s escaping me, but I was vulnerable. And for the first time in I think my life I was forced to slow down. Take stock of things. And sit around. Be with and near people in less of a utility-minded fashion. In both cases, I think it might have been more about appreciating them trying to help me than love.

ID: So you think these relationships were confusing care for love?

B: I think caring for someone is a large part of love. I think it’s almost impossible to care for someone, physically, and not also feel for them emotionally. There’s just too much overlap between the two. So I don’t think it’s confusion, per se. I just think it’s easy to take people for granted, until you can’t anymore. And when you really need people, that’s when you notice who stays, who’s really there for you. And you appreciate them more.

But it’s not uncommon. Jack, as an example, married his long term care nurse, Dana, for I think similar reasons. That, and I don’t want you to succeed in stripping these relationships of their meaning. Because they were important, and are. I loved Shondra, and Barbara. They put me back together when I was broken. I will forever be in their debts for that.

ID: But I think it’s fair to ask if it was love.

B: It was, in both cases, but I think it sprung from different places. Barbara I’d known for years. I had an older brother/girl next door affection for her

ID: That combination is fairly disturbing, on account of the incest.

B: But you know what I mean. I loved her in a platonic way for half of her life. But she was there for me, in a way I don’t think anyone else could have been, when I was really down, and really vulnerable. That’s overwhelming. And I don’t think it takes anything away from what we had to say that it was temporary and situational. I loved her in part because she was there for me, and she loved me because she could be. And sometimes I think it’s too bad that it didn’t translate into a longer-term relationship, but those end, usually with acrimony. And that would have cost me one of my most important friendships.

ID: And Shondra?

B: That ended tragically. Her brother tried to use her gift, pervert it, to hurt people. She was able to stop him, but the damage he tried to make her to do to others, she absorbed it. It cost her her mind. She’s been all but catatonic since.

ID: So you rescued her, but in the doing she was turned into a shell. ‘

B: Yes.

ID: That sucks.

B: Yeah.

Broken

ID: I’d like to talk to you about Barbara Gordon.

B: That could be tricky.

ID: I know. But I like a challenge. But to get to Barbara, there’s a back-story.

B: Careful…

ID: Well, the two of you ended up getting intimate because you shared something. Don’t try to be menacing; you’ve yet to actually hurt me in any way, so it’s really losing its edge.

B: I’m more patient when I’m not wearing a quarter of my weight in body armor. And that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.

ID: Relax. Take deep, calming breaths. Because the thing you two had in common isn’t much of a secret: you were in wheel chairs. You look relieved. What, were you afraid I’d found out something dark and sinister?

B: I don’t think Barbara has anything dark or sinister in her past; having something approaching affection for me at one point is probably as low as it goes.

ID: Fair enough. But Barbara ended up in a chair because of the Joker. You landed in yours because of Bane- and that’s why there’s so much back-story. So start us off at the beginning- your crippling, to be specific.

B: Bane was a genius. He deduced my identity, even before the Riddler. But unlike Edward, he used that information to try to destroy me. He staged an elaborate break from Arkham, freeing nearly every inmate at the same time.

I did what I could to stem the tide of insanity, but there were too many. I was reaching my breaking point, physically and mentally. And that’s when he attacked me in the cave. I barely put up a fight, I was just so… I was already broken. What he did to me really only made me physically into what I was psychologically.

ID: Though specifically he broke your back.

B: Correct.

ID: And how did that feel?

B: Nice therapist tone. It was devastating. It wasn’t that long since I’d had my own dalliance with venom, and failure, but this took failure to a whole new level. I wasn’t just butting up against the natural limits of being human, I was destroyed.

ID: You might want to be careful, lest the disabilities lobby tear you a batcave.

B: I don’t think I’m saying anything that hasn’t been said before. I felt like less than a man- less than a person. I was catatonic. Alfred tells me it was exactly like what happened when I lost my parents, that the same dread and despair descended over him. Because he couldn’t be sure I’d ever snap out of it.

Even after the medications worked their way through me, and the painkillers wore off, it was days before I spoke. The people I cared about were gathered around, waiting outside my bedroom. They wanted to know what to do. They wanted revenge, and to get me better, but there was not really a clear path towards either.

I think it was even scarier, because Clark had just died- and I mean the first time, when Doomsday killed him. And I was being looked at to fill the void he left, and suddenly I was out of the picture, too. I’m not blaming Clark, or trying to escape culpability, but I know that weighed on me, too. Made things harder. The deaths, and the violence, everything that went wrong because of the mistake I made, that’s on my head.

But the first thing I did after Bane was to name a successor. Nightwing was there, but I didn’t- he wasn’t the first person I spoke to. There was a vigilante known as Azreal. He was violent, but I’d been working with him, and I thought he’d become someone I could rely on. I knew Bane was still out there. And I didn’t want him approached; he was too dangerous. I didn’t want whoever became Batman in my stead to pursue him, but I knew Bane would seek a new Batman out, so they were going to have to run.

And if I’m really honest, and self-critical, I think maybe I knew Nightwing couldn’t do that. Bane hurt me. And he’d challenged everything Nightwing had built towards his whole life. If I’d made him Batman then, he would have gone straight for Bane. He still might have, if I hadn’t made him swear to me he wouldn’t. Which maybe have saved his life. Or maybe I just prevented him from finally becoming the man he is, today, for just a little while.

ID: Because now Nightwing is Batman. So I take it you’d trust him to take on Bane today?

B: I have no doubt that he’d beat the hell out of Bane in record time. And the deaths, and the violence, everything that went wrong because I put the wrong man in charge trying to shelter him, that’s on my head.

[Continued Friday, or earlier.]

Love(s) of My Life: Baby Mama

ID: I’m going to be uncharacteristically provocative and just drop this research bombshell: you have a bastard son.

B: I suppose that’s technically true.

ID: And I know who the baby mama is. Daughter of the infamous ecoterrorist and founder of the League of Assassins, Ra’s al Ghul. Wait. He’s her father. The baby mama is Talia, his daughter.

B: That’s… less accurate, on account of a questionable legal technicality.

ID: Meaning?

B: We were married at the time of his conception. Technically.

ID: Okay, there’s a story, there.

B: I was captured by the League of Assassins, and drugged. It’s called ‘groom kidnapping,’ colloquially Pakaruah shaadi. A form of nonconsensual marriage.

ID: Wait, isn’t that an Indian thing?

B: We were in India at the time.

But the first time I met Talia was during a power struggle within Ra’s organization; she saved my life, then. We had a connection. Maybe that’s just because we both grew up in the shadow of determined, successful men, and spent our childhood training, our entire lives in preparation. We were both intelligent, capable, beautiful- mostly I mean her, on that last one.

The fact that she was Ra’s daughter added a whole Romeo and Juliet angle that I think just made it

ID: Hotter?

B: Forbidden. Taboo. Which made it hotter, I guess. It created tension, even more tension on top of the fact that… I’m trying to figure out how to say this without coming off as a complete douche bag, but… I could kill you in a moment with my bare hands. I can outsmart most people- even those with enhanced minds. Back in the day I could bench over 600 lbs.

ID: Jesus.

B: And Talia is basically my female equivalent. And if you’re talking psychological damage, she might even be more than my equal.

ID: Sounds kind of like a dig.

B: It isn’t. When you get a certain level of damaged, you stop being able to really relate to people who haven’t suffered traumatically. The people I know the best, the ones I really relate to, all have personal, familial tragedies. I think it helps you put your own experiences into perspective. So finding a woman with problems comparable to mine, was nice.

We had a longstanding flirtation. In fact, India wasn’t the first time we hooked up. But that time, we were, like I said, technically married. Which made me less cautious than I might have otherwise been. And I knocked her up.

For a long time, Ra’s had been trying to make me his successor, which meant taking over his League of Assassins and also marrying his daughter. And I wasn’t happy, when I found out I’d been forcibly married. But I also… I loved Talia. Her father was cruel, and manipulative, maybe even evil, but the moments I had with her were so perfect. And I’d never even really thought about being a father, and finding out I was going to be… it was probably the happiest day of my life. Because it was something that wasn’t part of the plan, part of my obsessive quest to protect others. It was something selfish, something that was just mine. And maybe it was even a way out for me.

By that point, my first Robin was all grown up, and I thought maybe it would be okay for me to retire. Maybe the world could make it with a different man running around in a pointy-eared cowl. And there was a part of me that thought I could use the League of Assassins. They were already heavily trained martial artists highly skilled in stealth. I thought it might be a viable start to an organization of international batmans, a Batman, Inc., if you will.

But I wasn’t the only one vying for Ra’s mantle. Unbeknownst to me, I had a rival in the League. He attacked me- attacked both of us- at dinner. I fought him, but he would have killed me had Talia not shot him. And as a result of the attack, Talia had a miscarriage.

We mourned together, and it was the closest I’d ever been to those moments after my parents’ death- only I wasn’t alone, this time. And I probably would have stayed with her- not in India, obviously, but with her. But she had a change of heart. She told me I wasn’t the same man when I was married to her. I wasn’t going to survive the life her father wanted for us- and I was no good to her dead. So we dissolved the marriage.

ID: But, that isn’t the end of the story, of course. Because little Damian didn’t die.

B: No. I wonder if that was her father’s doing or not. Maybe that was how he planned to get his successor- not to use me, as I was, but to mix my genes with his family’s.

Maybe Talia simply had second thoughts. Maybe she wanted to let me go, because she didn’t want me if it had to come from her father’s goons dragging me to her.

Whatever the case, I suspect she didn’t know about Damian, either. Because I don’t think she would have chosen to raise him in the League of Assassins. And if she had, I guarantee you, he would have learned compassion much more thoroughly. But that’s the story of how I lost Damian. His mother, on the other hand, never went far.

Because her father’s ambition never stopped. And so she and I had lots of opportunities to bump into each other

ID: ’s uglies. Sorry, couldn’t resist.

B: I don’t suppose you could. But I think ours became a love that was unrequited out of necessity. To be with her, I was going to have to stop being Batman. And for her to be with me, she was going to have to abandon her father. And I don’t think either of us was prepared for that.

But years later, after the earthquake, I lost hope. I was a man in a bat costume. The world was in chaos, and all I could do was hurl batarangs at it. That’s why I went to Washington to ask for help. The things I usually did to tackle a problem, weren’t going to work. So I tried to do something else- possibly something more grown up. But because of Luthor’s grip on the political conversation at that point, nothing came of it.

So I went away empty-handed, without a plan of action. And for me, not to have a plan- I was rudderless. Talia found me, in my hotel room. I was drunk- actually drunk. And she sobered me up, and convinced me to go back to Gotham. In retrospect, she was working with Luthor by that point, and probably knew something was afoot. But the important thing was she found me, in a moment of weakness, and helped me get back up.

ID: So wait, Talia finally had a chance to have you to herself, when you’d already lost the taste for being Batman, and she pushed you back into the costume?

B: Yeah. I think she knew that she could have me, but that what she’d have was a shell. I couldn’t be happy having failed Gotham; I couldn’t retire then. I had to be standing, on my feet, first. Maybe it was just her same MO: letting me go, and hoping I’d return to her in my own time.

ID: Well, you’re not Batman anymore. So why haven’t you gone back to her?

B: Not to cheapen our relationship, but that feels a little like asking a man why he ordered the steak and not the lamb.

ID: Actually, given your more recent proclivities, it’s like asking a man why he’s ordered the salad after being offered the steak and the lamb.

B: Cute. But I think it comes down to the fact that I used Bruce Wayne as a distraction and a deflection. By being boring, and shallow, and vapid, in my “personal” life, only people who read gossip columns cared, and even then, only superficially. But coming out- even only half out- that would have led to all kinds of questions, and increased scrutiny. I’ve always been, curious, I guess might be the worried, about the same sex. I’ve experimented, sure- it’s not like these are my first forays- but for the first time I feel freed up to test those other waters, without endangering the people I care about.

Which isn’t to say that I’m going to never eat meat again

ID: I can’t but feel that our metaphor was accidentally backwards.

B: Just that right now I’m feeling more like a salad. Maybe, as in noneuphemistic dinners, it’s just an appetizer, but right now that’s what I’m craving.

ID: Okay, to get back to Talia for a second, here’s something: you had unprotected sex with her.

B: She was my wife.

ID: Not my point. Presumably, back then, you weren’t HIV positive, or riddled with the AIDS. But since your love life, using very vague timelines in my head, crossed over that threshold, there must have come a point when you had to stop her and demand that you use protection.

B: I’m Batman. I always use protection

ID: Nice PSA

B: outside the context of monogamous, long-term relationships- and since Talia wasn’t usually either of those things, pretty much all the time. But it did come up. Because I think there’s a responsibility, there, to be forthright, and honest, and just extra cautious. We were kissing, and she reached for my utility belt, and I just stopped her, and said, “I’m HIV positive.”

And she said, “I know,” and went back to kissing me. Which made sense. I told you, she’s as close to me having a ‘my other half’ as I’ve ever been. And I would have known if she’d tested positive.

ID: Doesn’t that strike you as a bit of a violation?

B: It might be. I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve always been an information junky. Because information is what’s kept me alive, doing dangerous and potentially stupid things, for most of my life. I rarely stop and consider the morality behind it. I think there are probably still people in my life who would be offended by that. But it’s who I am. I’m not trying to justify it, rationalize or say that that makes it okay. If you’re offended you’re offended. But that’s just who I am. I don’t think I could change it, even if I felt I needed to. It’s a compulsion to know, to be prepared.

ID: And yet they used to call Clark the Big Blue Boyscout.

B: As far as preparedness goes, Clark never had a thing on me- though he did wear more blue.

Love(s) of My Life: Selina

ID: Okay, I've been hoping for an opportunity like this one.

B: I shudder to think.

ID: Both as background, and anticipating we might end up using it as a sidebar, I tried to contact the subject of this week's interview: Selina Kyle.

B: She turned you down.

ID: She's a slippery minx- though I've had much worse; people who agree to an interview then duck, dodge and weave around every attempt to actually set it up. At least Selina never gave me more than a maybe- and even then, it was a vague maybe. But enough about my inability to catch the Catwoman, tell me how you did.

B: We met at a fundraiser for an animal rights group... it wasn't PETA, but the specific charity is escaping me at the moment. Anyway, my assistant had caved, and agreed for me to meet Ms. Kyle. I knew her by reputation, and was more than happy to donate to her cause, but less thrilled about actually talking to her.

ID: So she had a reputation?

B: Yeah. Actually, the reputation wasn't bad; she was an activist, and very quick. I guess, in retrospect, she had kind of a Michael Moore ability to ambush businesspeople with questions about their companies, usually aspects they weren't aware of, to shame them into donating small fortunes. And Bruce Wayne was supposed to be the dull flack, not a lightning rod. So I spent most of the night at this fundraiser avoiding her.

And I did what I thought was an admirable job keeping her at a distance, until a presentation. A beautiful woman stood up and, it was about jungle cats and their shrinking habitat. And she spoke so eloquently, that it was difficult to remember that we were talking about animals and not human beings. She moved quite a few people in the audience to tears.

And when she finished speaking, she fixed me this look, and it was just like the look in those jungle cat's eyes in her presentation- stunning, emerald eyes. I asked my assistant, a little breathless, “Who is that?” Meanwhile, the woman starts to stalk towards me, and my heart starts to race, and I thought that must be how rabbits feel, or maybe how the criminals I hunt feel. My assistant was nose deep in her planner, and the mystery woman had closed half the distance before she looked up and said, “Oh, that’s Ms. Kyle.”

Of course, my first thought was, “Oh sh-”

ID: “it.”

B: My second was, “You know, I think I'd let her embarrass me in front of a room full of rich people.” So I let her catch me. And maybe my company was a little better than the average; maybe she took pity on my

ID: Because of the lantern jaw and the piercing blue eyes?

B: Or because she saw that the better way to my wallet was with a softer touch. But she did give me a hard time for running from her all night. Let me see, I said, “If I had any idea how stunning you were, I'd have found you.”

“So now I'm the prey?” she asked. And, Selina was fun. And wild. A little unpredictable. I had more champagne than I think I'd ever had up to that point in my life- I was actually a little tipsy. I offered to give her a ride home- with Alfred driving, of course- but she said she'd rather walk. We got about a mile from her home before she kicked off her heels, and said, “I'll race you to my apartment.” And I thought I had her, since I was still wearing semi-functional shoes. But she was fast, and kept just ahead of me. But once we got to her apartment, she bounded up the stairs, leaping majestically up several flights of stairs while barely touching down. She was graceful, athletic.

ID: You're getting awfully worked up; you sure you're not at least still bi?

B: Nobody's that gay. Selina is easily- easily- the most sexual woman alive. Just saying her name aloud makes my heart race a little. But you're derailing.

She beat me to her door by so much that by the time I got there she was already inside, looking out at me through a crack. I pushed on the door, thinking she was just holding it for me, but she held it mostly shut. And she said, “I hope you didn't think I was inviting you in. Silly man. I'm not that easy to catch.” Now, it was a little frustrating, but there was something in the way she said it, and the way she smiled at me, that little glint in her eye, I smiled, and went away happy.

I ran into her later that night. Only this time we were both dressed differently. She was in the condo of a wealthy industrialist, one with a lousy environmental record, particularly as it concerned wildlife. He had put in a silent alarm just before he went on vacation- it was new, which is probably the only reason she hadn't known about it. She was removing jewelry from a wall safe when I arrived. I snuck up on her, and grabbed her wrist.

I think we were both still worked up from earlier, because she whirled around and kissed me before she said anything. Then she blushed, and said, “Purrfect.”

ID: That is so weird hearing you trill like that.

B: And I was definitely still worked up, because then I kissed her, and let go of her wrist entirely. Which was great, until she shivved me with some claws in the side and got away. She was more careful after that. I played a lot of catch up, but it was some time before I saw her again in costume.

But what's strange is, even though Selina and I, in our normal lives, dated for a while, it wasn't until we had sex that I realized they were the same person. They kissed differently. But when she was deep in the throes of passion, then, suddenly, she kissed like the Catwoman. And my mind was fairly blown. It probably should have been obvious- just from the amount of time I spent staring at both women, but I suspect, like Lois with Clark, that I really didn't want to know. I wanted to have them, have both of them. Which doesn't even touch the idea that if- or when- I caught her, I was going to lose them both.

And I struggled with it, for a while. I really, really wanted to just leave her be. The fact that there was a cat burglar in the city, that didn't need to be my business. I mean, I cared about keeping families from being torn apart by violence, not industrial profiteers losing small fractions of their ill-gotten wealth. But I knew I was rationalizing, too. Having Catwoman emboldened others- and not all of them were going to keep to her basically nonviolent code. So I watched her for a couple of weeks. She was keeping her scores in several different hiding spots. I made sure I knew where all of them were. Then I emptied them. I left safe deposit keys or other identifying hallmarks in a small pile on her coffee table, with a note that read, “It stops or I stop it,” and a little bat symbol.

She sent a card to the Manor, and all it said was, “Thanks, Bruce.” It was the first inkling I had that she knew, too. She disappeared, and I didn't see her for a while. The next time I did, she was operating in more morally gray territory, sabotaging animal experiments, exposing exploitation. And when I saw her in costume, we flirted like we always had, but when I saw her socially, she was different. I think she was hurt, by the fact that I hadn't trusted her enough to come to her as Bruce, to tell her who I was since I knew who she was. I wonder... that might have been the breaking point, actually. I loved her. About as deeply as I ever have loved anyone. And I think, if I hadn't hidden behind Batman, I think she would have married me.

ID: So you asked?

B: Not then. No. Because after that she was distant.

It changed after the earthquake. She really stepped up. When people needed help, she put aside her pet cause, and saved lives. And I think from there, it was inevitable. We always had an affection for one another. I'd never formally told her I was Bruce, and one night, when we'd just kind of bumped into one another patrolling, I gave her a lift in the Batmobile. We passed her street, and she caught herself almost objecting. I drove her to the cave, and once we were there I took off my mask and kissed her. She told me she'd been waiting for years for that. I told her I was scared; I didn't want to put her in even more danger. She said she could handle herself, and that she wasn't willing to give me the choice this time.

ID: Okay. But it ended. So why?

B: Because I was scared. I think that's always been, and always will be, the problem with Selina. She doesn't have fear. She'll leap off a moving train to save a single tiger, or a building to get away from me. But I'm afraid. I was afraid to tell her who I really was- which I think will always be a point of contention. And I'll always be afraid that I've put her in greater danger, caused her more harm and pain.

ID: Okay, that's the background, but get specific. You two were a hot item, and then maybe cooled off, but what was the catalyst, the final straw.

B: Hush cut out her heart.

ID: Seriously?

B: Yeah. He had some help, cryogenically, from Mr. Freeze. I wonder if I have Victor to thank for her surviving- since I imagine he'd have seen a kinship with someone else whose love was frozen.

ID: But he cut out her heart?

B: He was a surgeon. And it was entirely to get at me. If she'd bumped into him on a patrol, or whatever, it might be different. But he targetted her, to get at me. It was the realization of my fear. And I couldn't be afraid. Batman can't be afraid. He has to be able to trust the people he works with to keep themselves safe. And with her, I couldn't. Which isn't entirely fair to her, I know- and I don't know if she'll ever forgive me for it. But that's how it is.

ID: That's... sad. But... you're not Batman anymore. Why not track her down and give her some When Harry Met Sally speech?

B: I wouldn't say never. But I will say that, right now, I don't think Selina's interested. Once bitten, twice shy; but that's twice now she's been bitten. I couldn't blame her if she was just through with me.

Love(s) of My Life: Zatanna

B: But getting back to our look at the women I’ve loved, I thought we’d talk about Zatanna. Because she’s a magician.

ID: I would have gone with the obvious, “Wonder Woman called me this morning,” but whatever, it’s your dime.

B: But in honor of Zatanna, I figured I’d use a bit of misdirection.

ID: Clever.

B: Zatanna might have been my first real crush.

I remember the first time I met her. My dad put together a big event for the local children's shelter. I think it was a Christmas thing, though he shied away from doing too much Christmas-y, that year, because he found out Gotham actually has a goodly sized Jewish population, too. So he had a petting zoo, and magic.

Zatanna’s father was a stage magician named John Zatara, and he came on stage with a flash of light and smoke. And out from behind him stepped a cute girl about my age, with dark hair, and big dark eyes, and a smile that made even the most down-trodden orphan smile with her. And I told my mom, “He's got a lovely assistant,” and she smiled down at me the way mothers do.

There was a little flower shop a couple of doors down from the shelter, and I got my allowance from my mom and bought her some roses, and handed them to her when she and her father were taking their bows, and she smiled. And she was at that age where she had a mouthful of mismatched, oversized teeth. I was so smitten I still thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen- not that I guess I had too active a social life back then.

We palled around for the rest of the night, but she and her father were nomads- they travelled around the country performing. So when I asked if I could see her, maybe for dinner or a show, she told me she would be gone to Metropolis the next day. And in New York the day after. Then elsewhere. But she promised, next time she and her father were in Gotham, we would.

That’s probably where it would have ended, just a silly little night of crushing; I don’t know if she would have taken me up on dinner or a movie. But my parents died. After I emerged from my stupor, I started to form a plan, the very rough outlines of what the Batman would become. And the very first person I sought out for that plan was Zatanna and her father.

I think John was important in my grieving process. It was more than just a desire to learn about illusion and misdirection. I wanted to disappear. And not just in a puff of smoke. Training with John let me get away from my parents' friends, and everyone who wanted to coddle me and swaddle me. It let me stop being the boy with the murdered parents, or even the Wayne heir; it let me be just Bruce for a while, when I really needed to be Bruce. So did Zatanna.

We dated, if anything kids that young do can be called dating. I don’t know if she cared for me, or if she just grieved with me.

ID: How did it end?

B: I finished my training. But I still stayed, months longer than I planned, than I needed. I told myself I was honing my skills, perfecting them before moving on to the next phase. But eventually I couldn't lie to myself anymore. Her dad had nothing left to teach me- at least nothing left I could learn without a talent for real magic.

ID: Real magic?

B: Magic exists. I think it was part of the reason I went to John in the first place. I… thought about bringing my family back. John… helped me see that I shouldn’t. There are a lot of challenges, and potential consequences, but it was the psychology of it that he focused on. Loss is a part of life. I needed to cope with that fact. He helped me see that. And Zatanna helped me survive it.

ID: But that’s not the end of the story, is it? You two reconnected.

B: She lost her father, during a crises several years ago. I flew in for the funeral.

ID: And that made you two even closer?

B: It could have. Except that she didn’t take it the way I had. Because for a while, my parent’s death murdered me. I wandered around in a daze, unable to think or to feel. I would have simply starved, if Alfred hadn’t fed me, with a spoon, like I was a baby. I had to relearn how to be alive after that. Even after I learned to function, it’s something that is with me, daily. It’s a conscious decision, now, but from a very young age, it was my purpose and my motivation, keeping other people from that kind of trauma.

Maybe it was because she was at that point already an adult, but Zatanna reacted differently. Maybe, in part, it’s because her father died a hero, fighting for something he believed in. Maybe she really is just a sunnier person than I am. And she was sad- heartbroken, even; she loved her father more than any other person in the world. But she was still a happy person. Hopeful. Optimistic. I love that about her. I love it enough, in fact, that I told her no.

This was years later, after the pain of her father’s death had passed- at least as much as it ever could. She reasoned I still owed her a movie, or dinner. And we went out. And she was wonderful. And beautiful. Sexy- if you’ve never seen her in civilian clothes, you have no idea how incredibly sexy she can look even without the revealing tuxedo. And she told me she loved me, and that she always had, since we were kids. I had, too, actually. And she wanted to see more of me. See if there was still anything there- or rather, whether there was something adult there, on top of a mutual childhood affection. And I said no.

ID: But, but she’s leggy. And, and adorable.

B: I know. And it was hard to tell her no, believe me on that. But it’s right for her.

ID: Isn’t that a bit… paternalistic.

B: I don’t think she views me as a father figure. But no. She’s my friend- one of my favorite people in the world. Her happiness is very important to me.

Too important, I’d say, to risk on a very unsure bet. Because the women I’ve been with… well, I don’ always remain friendly with them afterwards. They end up damaged and unhappy- and that’s not counting the ones who end up getting truly hurt- like Vesper. I don’t know if there’s a single woman whose ever been happier for having known me, and for most of them they leave with even more baggage. And I couldn’t do that to her, I couldn’t be responsible for making Zatanna brood, not even for an evening. It’s a selfish decision, I know, but I need people like her in my life far more than I do in my bed.

But on the subject, I think, at the end of my life, I’d like to disappear. I don’t want what Clark had, a year or more of people looking at him with pity. Treating every whatever like it’s my last, whether it’s Thanksgiving, or my sons’ birthdays. I’d like to be able to slip away in the night, without anyone having to expend any of that extra energy, just suddenly being gone, in a cloud of smoke.

ID: Okay. But because I'd like to do a fishnets thing, howsabout Black Canary?

B: Kissed her a few times, though Ollie, her new husband but longtime hanger-on, can rest easy, it never progressed past there.

ID: That's disappointing. You're making it difficult to live vicariously through you.

B: Really? You might be the first person to complain that I haven't been promiscuous enough. Particularly in light of the AIDS.

ID: Low blow. We were bantering, and you had to go and bring up life-threatening STDs. Now I'm depressed. Quickly, to the Baskin-Robbins-mobile!

B: All right, but you’re buying.

Disappearing Act

B: Diana called me this morning.

ID: I smell a segue.

B: She wanted me to remember that today is the Day of the Disappeared; it’s actually the first, although the UN has had a working group monitoring the issue since 1980. Specifically, the disappeared are people who have been taken by governments.

ID: It’s hard to see where anyone could take issue with that. Oh. Wait. Isn’t that basically a veiled criticism of Guantanamo Bay?

B: Please don’t knee-jerk about this. This is so much bigger than our extraordinary rendition program. It’s so much larger than our one nation.

ID: Okay, that wasn’t a bad side-step. But now I’m asking you, flat out, what you think of Guantanamo and the black sites. Do people in those facilities qualify as the disappeared?

B: This isn’t about our government. It’s about all governments. It’s about all people, everywhere. It’s about all of us, deserving due process.

ID: So basically it’s a way for you to blow the one world government while giving the finger to our anti-terror programs, at the same time.

B: All right, I can see you’re like a puppy with a bone.

ID: Is that some kind of autofellatio joke?

B: I’m ignoring you so I can answer your slightly less obnoxious question, about Guantanamo. Speaking as an American, I think the most important thing is to try and live by our ideals. That means trials, even for terrorists. That means not torturing, and not quibbling over the definition of what that is. It means making sure the people we have are actually guilty of the crimes we’re holding them for.

But as the Batman… it’s grayer. Through that lens, I have one, overarching goal, making innocent people safer. I’ve captured the Joker a dozen times- but I haven’t always had enough evidence for a solid conviction. Thankfully, with someone like him, having him involuntarily committed is simple enough- and the handful of convictions we have gotten on him are enough to ensure that he’ll be locked in Arkham the rest of his natural life.

ID: Provided they can hold him.

B: Which is a side issue. Terrorists… we may not have enough to convict them. And they’re people arguably as dangerous as the Joker. It’s possible that people like that need to be a separate, special case, that maybe the existing criminal justice system can’t work in that situation. And for the first year, or two, after 9/11, you could make the case that we didn’t have a process in place, that we were caught unawares and we had to improvise with the laws we had on the books at the time.

But it took five years before the Military Commissions Act was passed- and only then because the Supreme Court decision in Hamdan v. Rumsfield ruled military tribunals unconstitutional. Even then, the Act’s suspension of the writ of habeus corpus was struck down as unconstitutional- because it very specifically contradicted what the suspension clause is all about. The founders had escaped a monarch who abused the court system to stamp out his dissenters; the writ is about challenging that kind of detention.

ID: So you take issue that the government operated extralegally? Isn’t that fundamentally hypocritical, from a man who went outside the law to fight crime. From a man who broke the law, and did some of the things you’re criticizing? Torture, unlawful kidnapping and detention.

B: Maybe. It could be. Ben Franklin, one of the founders, said consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds, after all. But I think not. I think that what I did was different. I think that what I did, I did to enhance the law- to help it do the things it couldn’t. Maybe there are areas where the government shouldn’t operate, but private citizens should.

But the difference I see is Gitmo and the black sites are the opposite of what I did. They epitomize the concept of government refusing to work within its own rules; maybe that’s the salient difference. I was working outside someone else’s rules; while the government was breaking its own. And if we can’t keep the government from breaking its own rules, then we’ve opened the door to dictatorship.

So we were disturbingly close to being one of those unaccountable governments who do disappear people in the night- maybe for a while we were. But I think this is one of those things that validates the American experiment. Our executive branch overstepped, and the judiciary shot them down. The legislative branch overstepped, and the judiciary shot parts of that down. But at the end of the day, with all three branches weighing in, I think we reached an imperfect but workable compromise. I’m still not happy about Guantanamo, but I don’t think it’s a black hole we toss our enemies anymore, either.

But all of this is a side issue. There are still thousands of people internationally unaccounted for. And that’s the ones we suspect have been taken by governments- not at all touching the issues of human trafficking, slavery. Diana’s right, that this is important. We may not have a forum with millions of listeners, but it’s the forum we have. This is absolutely worth paying attention to, worth donating, to the UN, to Amnesty, to the Red Cross. Aside from making a sizeable donation myself, I’ve been consulting with the UN OHCHR,

ID: Were you having a seizure there, or was that an acronym?

B: Acryonym. The Human Rights Council, who have jurisdiction over the disappeared. I have some experience man-hunting- even internationally. I’ve got some experience as a detective and a forensic tech. Unfortunately, a lot of the disappeared are dead, but it’s rewarding work. And it lets me stretch my mental legs.

But finally segueing back to our look at the women I’ve loved, I thought we’d talk about Zatanna. Because she’s a magician- you know, who disappears.

ID: I would have gone with the obvious, “Wonder Woman called me this morning,” but whatever, it’s your dime.

B: But in honor of Zatanna, I figured I’d use a bit of misdirection.

ID: Clever.

[ed. note: I’m carving this up into two segments due to length and girth, and posting the second part Saturday, or earlier, if I feel like it]

Love(s) of My Life: Journalists

[Ed. Note: Continuing from last week’s interview about the Loves of Bruce’s Life]

ID: But thankfully, you have a type. Specifically, journalists. Why do you think that is?

B: Because in my lines of work, I meet a very specific subset of women: businesswomen, lawyers, heroines, and reporters. Lawyers and businesspeople tend to be too... neurotic. Women in costume, well, they tend to be complicated

ID: As complicated as yourself?

B: Maybe even more so- and I’m complicated enough for several relationships. And of the four, reporters were the ones who I was obligated to actually sit down and have real conversations with.

ID: So you don't think it had anything to do with your search for the truth, about yourself, about your motives- things they were likely to root around for? Don't you wonder if it was just a hidden desire of yours to be unmasked, to be seen for the person you are, rather than the persona you pretended to be?

B: Maybe.

ID: That sounds like a yes, to me, but tell me about Vicki Vale.

B: She was a reporter, too, originally a social gossip columnist; she took her own photos, too. That's how we met. That was a fluff piece. What I liked about her, intially, was that Vicki wasn't complicated. Unlike Lois, she seemed to be happy with a superficial love affair. And I think at that time it was exactly what I needed.

But it wasn't where we went. I think it was foolish of me to think that that stage of a relationship could persist- though thankfully by the time our relationship evolved, I was a fairly different man. About that time, Vicki started investigating the Batman. I had saved her, accidentally, really, while she was investigating one of the criminal organizations- I think it was the Ventriloquist's group. She became obsessed with Batman; from the way she talked about him I think she loved him- and hated that, too. She hated feeling like a damsel in distress, hated that there were aspects of her affection that rewarded that kind of paternalistic behavior.

ID: So you were your own rival?

B: It sounds more glamorous than it was. She was being torn in different directions by her affections for different men. And I know because of it both of me were going to lose her; I thought seriously about telling her the truth. Ultimately, I didn't. And I did lose her.

ID: You sound like you regret that.

B: I wonder what would have happened. Would we have stayed together? Would I have retired earlier? Would it have put her in danger? It asks so many questions, so many possibilities… Ultimately, she’s alive, and happy, and so am I. I doubt the world would be better for the change.

ID: So she’s happy?

B: When the Luthor’s cataclysmic earthquake decimated Gotham, Vicki stayed in the city, documented the tragedy. Her photography won her the Pulitzer. She spent the next several years traveling to war zones and documenting the evil that men do. She found a purpose that I don’t think she would have if she stayed with me.

ID: Because if she’d stayed with you she would have put away her camera for an apron? It sounds like she made her career in Gotham. What would have changed?

B: I don’t think she would have left. I think she would have won a Pulitzer for her work in Gotham. But I don’t think she would have spent time in Africa, the Middle East, or Southeast Asia.

ID: I presume at last some of this gallivanting is on a Wayne Foundation grant?

B: Occasionally. I'm proud of the work she does, and happy to be even that small part of it.

ID: And what ever happened to her investigation into you?

B: I suspect she eventually found me out- and then decided not to print it.

ID: How sweet. And the last journalist whose ink you dipped your pen into

B: Classy

ID: I'd wanted to do something with a printing press, but it was just too unwieldy. Anyway, Vesper Fairchild. We know it ended in tragedy, but how did you meet?

B: Vesper was a late night radio host. I don’t even remember the topic of our conversation anymore. But I remember she wore these stupid, hipster glasses, but they were really worn; by the end of the conversation, I started to believe she didn't wear them because they were trendy, but because she’d always worn glasses like that.

I think that’s a suitable metaphor for Vesper: if you saw her, she seemed like a journalist, hipster stereotype, but underneath that was a compassionate, thoughtful, intelligent, incisive woman. When the earthquake hit Gotham, she left the city with me. She tried to use her contacts in the journalistic world to spread news of just how bad the disaster was.

When I came back to the city, she stayed away, because that was where she could do the most good. It was because of that that we drifted apart. And even after she got back to the city, there was always a distance between us. We tried picking up where we left off, but… I think she knew something was wrong. Maybe she even knew I was Batman, but she started looking into him. And that put a tension between us, even before…

ID: Before she was murdered, and the assassin, David Cain, made it look like you were her killer.

B: At the behest of Lex Luthor, yes.

ID: I know you humiliated Luthor. I mean, you took away all his companies, his assets, and sent him to Federal take it in the pooper prison. Directly because of your efforts- obviously with Clark’s help- he went from being the President of the United States to the most recent inmate admitted into the Stonegate infirmary for unremitting rectal bleeding. How does that feel?

B: Like it was too little, far too late. Vesper’s dead. There’s nothing I could do to Lex to make up for that.

ID: But I assume you haven’t stopped trying.

B: Meaning?

ID: I mean I have this report- okay, a facsimile of this report, which makes me feel incredibly old school. It's from the first week he was in prison. Lex had just gotten back from the infirmary after his first altercation with some prisoners. And he shows back up again the next morning. He was found after lock-down with multiple complex fractures. The prison doctor was surprised, and I’ll quote here from the report, “at the precise, methodical nature of the wounds, designed to inflict maximal pain and damage, and ensure the longest possible recovery time, while presenting the least likelihood of lethality.” Half the bones in his body were broken, some of the muscles torn away from them. This was some serious vengeance- and that sure as hell sounds like your modus operandi.

You’re not going to confirm or deny this, are you? But that looked like, almost, the hint of a smile, as I read the quote- I mean, trying to read behind all the rage you obviously feel for Luthor, and probably for me for asking the question or bringing him up. I can’t imagine.

B: No. You really can’t.

ID: But I am sorry. For your loss. And for Vesper. Truly.

B: I know. I just… I hate that she died because of me. Luthor's plot. It was just to get at me, to frame Bruce Wayne.

ID: I don't know if that's true. You said that she went with you to Washington, when you tried to get Federal and national support after the earthquake, right? And you going up against Luthor, that's why he tried to frame you, right? Well, if Vesper was there, working with you against him, it would make sense that he'd hold a grudge against her, too. What I'm saying is, maybe it wasn't your fault. Maybe she was killed for standing up for something that was right, that she believed in.

And that should make you feel, okay, maybe not better. But I hope you can feel a little less guilty. God knows you're already carrying enough of that around.

Love(s) of My Life

ID: I’ve been editing the old interviews with Clark for a collected edition. I think the fact that he was dying, the fact that he was married and had a very specific life worked out, gave his interviews an urgency, and a clarity, that ours have sometimes lacked.

B: I’m sorry I’m not dying faster.

ID: You should be. Nearly two years worth of on and off-again interviewing ruined. So I’ve decided to poison you. Or to ask you a question. An important one. I assume you’re not dating anyone at the moment.

B: Why?

ID: Because it might interfere. And as a journalist, that’s basically a no, by the way. I want to know about the love of your life. Clark had Lois. Madonna had Sean Penn. I want to know who Bruce Wayne had. Now I’m going to turn off the tape recorder for a second, because I have an idea.

[click]

ID: We’re back, and see, now I know. But the thing is, we’re not going to come out and say it; we’re going to make it like a game show count down, where we talk about the various, um, we’ll call them lesser loves, as we count down to the love of your life.

Now, we're going to go for the low-hanging fruit, someone who you've talked about before, and who, I think obviously, is not your soul mate: Lois Lane. How did you two meet?

B: I was in Metropolis. I'd just started working as Batman, just started operating my businesses myself. Ostensibly I was there looking into some acquisitions. Metropolis has always been a center of high tech industry. I was actually looking into acquiring S.T.A.R., or at least luring away some of their top talent- though eventually we just ended up partnering our Wayne Tech divisions with them instead on a project by project basis. It's funny, but at the time Lex Luthor's businesses were fledgling enough that I was also considering a buy out of him, too- not that Lex was entertaining such a bid.

And I had also only been in the cowl a few months at that point. Every time a new, colorful person in a costume popped up, bad things happened. So I wanted to get out ahead of whatever threat Clark might have presented. Alternately, there weren't a lot of people in costume, and everything I'd heard about Clark pointed to him being on the right side of things, generally speaking, but powerful. I was curious about the prospect of, like I was doing then with my companies, harnassing his power to greater purpose.

And, like I said, I was new to the CEO position. My secretary set up an interview with the local daily, which was supposed to be a puff piece. Instead, it got handed to Lois, who was anything but fluffy; she's actually quite sharp-edged- which is not a joke about her being boney.

The interview was one of my first, and certainly the most incisive, and invasive. Lois was everything in her professional persona that I wanted Batman to be: relentless, but righteous, tough, but incredibly fair-handed. I actually asked her out three times.

The first came about twenty minutes into the interview; she told me it would be unprofessional for her to agree in the middle of an interview. I asked again at the interview's conclusion, and she said it would be unprofessional before she finished her write-up. And I asked her again after the story went to print, and she said yes.

What I liked the most about Lois was she made me think. She asked me questions that made me question things I'd always taken at face value, and just presumed. Um, I'm trying to think of an example. She asked me, after appetizers arrived during our first date, why now, after spending years gallivanting across parts of Europe and Asia, had I decided to come back to the US to take control of my family's empire.

And it was a question I hadn't thought about. I mean, I was back in the country because I'd finished my training, which did include at least some education in business. But why hadn't I just put on my cowl and let the business continue to be run by the men my father had had on his board?

ID: And the answer was...

B: I think the same as the reason why I was doing what I was doing in a cape. There was still more good to be done. My companies were good places to work, that churned out American manufactured products at reasonable enough prices. But there was a vast gulf between the empire I owned and the potential of my family's wealth. There was still so much more good I could do by taking over.

But that's to the side of the point. Lois challenged me. I think just as Clark said, that she challenged me to be a better man. She wanted me to be a better man. I think part of the problem was, back then, I wasn't.

ID: What do you mean?

B: I mean I wasn't Clark. Clark always wanted to be a better man. I was... more focused than that. I wanted to end crime. Sometimes that meant fighting poverty, which I did with my companies. And sometimes that meant scaring the hell out of criminals until they pissed themselves; occasionally it meant putting a killer in a wheelchair. It's a subtle difference, I think, but at the end of the day, her sharp edges to the side, Lois really is a sunny-eyed optimist. She wants the best out of and for people. And sometimes I just wanted to scare the hell out of people until they behaved themselves; I don’t always see the good in people.

ID: Okay. I don't know if Lois is quite enough fodder. But thankfully, you have a type. Specifically, journalists. [Ed. Note: continued next update]

Crime and Punishment

ID: We’ve talked about revenge before, at great length. So I imagine you want nothing more than to fly to Norway and punch Anders Behring Breivik. Repeatedly.

B: I want to beat him to death, resuscitate him, and do it again, for every single child he murdered.

ID: Ladies and gentlemen, your Batman, star of your children’s video games, lunch boxes and SpaghettiOs.

B: You didn’t let me finish. I think it’s completely natural for that to be your first reaction. Children, in a very real sense, are our future. Genetically, we’re predisposed to protecting them, whatever the costs. And our instincts even push us to protect one another- an instinct society reinforces. So an eye for an eye, it makes sense, as a gut reaction.

ID: And that’s why I wanted to talk about this specific case. Because the Norwegian justice system leans entirely in the other direction. Under current law, Breivik could only be sentenced to 21 years in prison. That’s mostly because sentences don’t compound.

B: Though there is a possibility he could be tried against a “crimes against humanity” statute passed in 2008 which would put him away for thirty.

ID: But thirty years… that doesn’t seem like enough. I mean, [Timothy] McVeigh, even if he hadn’t been put to death, would have spent several lifetimes in jail. It’s probably long enough to keep him from committing more terrorism when he gets out- I mean, he’ll be 62, not many 62 year old terrorists.

B: Except in leadership. But outside of the Middle East, most terrorist groups remain pretty small, and there are fewer old men involved.

And I think you’re right. 21 years, 30 years, 100 years- I don’t think there’s a number high enough that it would feel all right. I don’t think we could put him to death and get the kind of closure we want, either; killing one man who killed 69, that’s not a trade I can happily make. In some respects, particularly given that he’s a violent and disturbed individual, I’d say perhaps the criminal justice system isn’t the answer for him, anyway. Keeping him away from the public, where he can be treated, might make more sense- terrorism’s a special case, I think. But I think the question needs to not be what will make us feel better- that justice has been done- and what’s going to stop those kinds of things from happening- that’s why terrorism is maybe a separate issue.

Generally speaking, I think Norway’s criminal justice system has a lot to teach us. The country has 10% of our per capita prison population, and their recidivism rate is a third of ours. Counter-intuitive as it might seem, their whole open society could be one answer.

But I think it’s dangerous to oversimplify. Overall, I think the Norwegians know what they’re doing. But their solution is also uniquely Norwegian; I don’t know if you could lift that system out of Norway, drop it in another country, and achieve the same or even similar results. But I do think it’s worth looking at.

Just like it’s worth looking at the Japanese system; their recidivism rate is similarly low, and their per capita prison population is even lower than Norway’s.

DI: And Japan has that 99% conviction rate?

B: That’s actually a little misleading- though true. A study found that Japanese conviction rates are high because of understaffed and overworked prosecutor offices. Because of that, prosecutors only pursue their strongest cases- the ones where they’re most likely to achieve a conviction. Another facet was that until 2009, trials were conducted in front of before a judicial panels, not a jury, but the important point is the statistic in isolation is meaningless. It doesn’t mean more criminals are brought to justice in Japan- just that a higher percentage of those charged are found guilty.

DI: So just because we know their batting average doesn’t tell us whether or not they’re going to hit us any home runs or bat in any runs?

B: Basically. And while we’re on Japan, I’d like to mention something in parallel. Japanese culture has a history of accepting what I think we could safely call more extreme forms of pornography than western countries; fictional portrayals of rape, incest, pedophilia. At first I was pretty disgusted, but if you look at the statistics, the incidence of actual sex crimes in Japan is tiny by comparison.

And for several years now there’s been correlation between the availability of high speed internet and a decline in sexual assault in the US.

DI: But correlation is not causation.

B: Of course it isn’t. But wouldn’t the burden of proving the contrary then fall on those who argue for a closed society.

DI: But what about the children? Won’t somebody think of the children.

B: I think people have been lamenting the downfall of society since the first society. People predicted comics would ruin our children, then rock and roll, and now video games, or pornography.

And on the subject of violence- whatever the media- I’ve seen far more compelling research concluding that people with a predilection for violence gravitate towards violent media. It’s true, video games can lead to heightened emotional response and aggression, but that’s because they tap into primitive parts of the human mind, the fight or flight aspects. And this effect has only proven to last between 15 and 30 minutes. You’d see the exact same thing coming from athletes in competitive sports.

Mostly what I’m advocating is honest study and debate. There are countries that do better than we do at controlling criminals. We should be asking why, because we have the world’s largest prison population, and it costs us about $70 billion dollars a year to operate our prisons. There are 2.5 million people in prison, where they aren’t contributing to the economy, aren’t paying taxes.

And we’re just talking about sentencing; one reason why the Japanese and Norwegian systems might be more effective, is because they focus on rehabilitation. That can mean a lot of things, GED programs, apprenticeships, counseling, but most importantly, a greater focus on rehabilitation has proven to cut 10% off of our recidivism rate. That’s huge.

About half the people in our prison right now are repeat offenders. So 10% of that is more than 100,000 people- $2.5 billion dollars. And even if it cost us the full $2.5 billion to make our rehabilitation programs work, that’s 100,000 fewer victims.

ID: But if you’re so enamored of cost saving, what about private prisons?

B: The largest issue with private prisons is that they cut corners. Their main goal is making money, not protecting its staff or the general public. So they’ve become notorious for hiring fewer or less well trained staff. This leads to a 50% increase in violence, both to the staff and inmates. Private prisons have also inflated their ability to cut costs by refusing more expensive inmates.

I think there’s also a question of legitimacy. I think on some level, inmates believe that in a state run facility they’re being treated as fairly as possible with taxpayer dollars. I think in a for-profit prison, they feel like any short-comings of the prison are coming at their expense, so someone can make money off them.

And finally, private prisons have so far been more expensive. In Arizona, $1,600 more per inmate. Right now, private prisons don’t work.

I’m obviously not a libertarian- I don’t think the government should get the hell out of our business whatever the circumstances- far from it. And I have an agenda, in this discussion, a very specific one. I don’t want people murdered in the streets. I don’t want children orphaned. I don’t want what happened to me to happen to anyone else, ever again. And the evidence suggests that there are things we can do better to make our country safer. There’s absolutely no explanation for why we aren’t even trying.

ID: But aren’t private prisons potentially like charter schools, little laboratories where new ideas can be tested out?

B: They could have been, and maybe they could be still. But they haven’t. They’ve been focused on trying to make money off our penal system. I’d welcome a prison that was experimenting, and trying to bring down our appalling recidivism rates- even if it were being run for profit- but it’s foolish not to acknowledge the conflicting interests at play there.

And I think prisons are only a part of the equation. Our prison population is as high as it is because of longer sentences. Some of that is a consequence of minimum sentencing guidelines and the war on terror- which is a side issue- but overall, it’s a justice issue as much as a penal one.

ID: Heheh, you said penal.

B: Thanks for keeping the conversation on a high road.