" When I was quite a bit younger, I used to run around the apartment in my underwear, a He-Man sword stuffed down the back of my shirt. I used to try to ride the dog like he was Cringer and pretend he was Battle Cat. Later, I concocted plans to become a vigilante like Batman if I were to ever come into money, like winning the lottery. Early on in puberty, I hoped to develop mutant abilities like the X-Men. Instead of becoming any of these things, I now worship barbarians, read history of barbaric hordes, study philosophy in regard to vigilantism, and have sharpened my skills of observation to a razor edge. I realized that fantasy was not reality, but that I could try hard to become an aristotelian superhero if nothing else. And all that reading and watching and daydreaming has done wonders for my imagination. Fantasy was a large part of my childhood, because the reality of it was grim. Poverty and abuse permeated most of it. And so it was a form of escapism that helped form the person I am today- not an escapist, but a very grounded young man.
Now, I don't think that Austin Grossman ever ran around with a plastic sword stuffed down his shirt. Nor do I think that he ever plotted and schemed to become Batman. Or even wish for mutant superpowers during puberty. I don't think he has much of an imagination, to be honest. Because this book was devoid of any sort or form of originality and there is about as much use of imagination here as an archaeological dig.
What he has done here, instead of using his imagination, is practically steal from comic book characters throughout the ages and put them in this book- which reads more like a technical manual than it does any sort of humorous lampoon or loving homage.
The writing is dry and focuses far too much on descriptions of costumes or certain pieces of background information or poers and abilities. It has no heart, no soul, and doesn't observe as it should, doesn't give us anything to hold onto. There is no humanizing part of this book, nothing that helps endear these characters to the reader. It becomes like reading the outline for a proposal of a new comic book. It's a bore without redeeming value, and without any sort of imagination. The characters are all bits and pieces of Avengers and Justice League characters, of Lex Luthor and so on. I spent more time rolling my eyes than I did actual reading.
Anyone looking for a comic book that is full of humor and imagination and pokes fun at itself and the genre should instead look into reading Mystery Men. "
— William, 2/4/2014