Batman has an X-men-like mutant ability. It’s passive and he has no control over it, but he’s got one. See, he got a little Marvel in his D.C. and there’s some pretty good evidence that shows what I’m talking about.

First, we’ll start with Superman. I’m not a huge fan of his, but he’s certainly more than capable of standing on his own as a character. As a Heavy Hitter, his combat is pretty one-dimensional and some of the more exciting Superman moments are when he squares off with another Heavy Hitter and he’s the underdog. Of course he’s Superman and more often than not he wins because he’s the protagonist. Even when he’s in a situation in which he must outwit his opponent, he wins. Superman is a smart guy to say the least.

Batman is at his core (other than a tortured soul) a detective – the greatest detective the world will ever know and R’as al Ghul especially knows it. Batman can outsmart anyone, period. As a member of the Justice League, he has detailed files on every member, including himself, with strengths and weaknesses as a contingency plan should they run amok. This level of wisdom and intelligence he possesses can count as his Superpower, just as Tony Stark (and even Batman himself) claims his near-infinite supply of money as his.

Batman’s mutant ability manifests when he and Superman team up together.  Superman becomes outright moronic in Batman’s presence. Look at the times they have teamed up together. Superman doesn’t get like The Incredible Hulk, but he just doesn’t have that smug, smarmy, “checkmate” attitude about himself – he’s simply a big brute that can hit things really, really, hard. Batman on the other hand becomes even morecalculating and thoughtful, if that were possible, and many more moves ahead in the game than usual. Batman has stolen Superman’s intelligence!

This explains Robin too! Robin, in any of his incarnations, is pretty capable on his own. Sometimes the plot will get him caught or kidnapped, but he’s just a kid; kids in comics get kidnapped, and I can’t really hold it against him and he’s a smart kid. Pair him with Batman though?

“HURRRRRRRR!”
-Robin

Instant M.R.

Batman’s intelligence stealing ability is passive and similar of the Brains from Futurama. Like gravity, the amount of vampiric brain-drain is inversely proportional to distance and I’m sure there’s a geometric regression for how dumb one gets depending on how long one remains within Batman’s stupefication field. He may or may not be aware of this field, but because he is so intelligent, he understands

1. He cannot control it or wield this ability consciously
2. He can strategically create situations in which he can take advantage of its effects
3. He gains no benefit by acting like the playboy billionaire goof that is Bruce Wayne

A note on that third point though, Bruce Wayne’s clumsiness may be an after-effect or a hangover of having sucked in too much IQ from others. Evidence shows that Batman as Bruce Wayne is just as capable and smart though, so that gets tossed out

To be honest, this is not an original observation of mine. This originally came from Rich, my old coworker, and I hadn’t had a chance to really expound on the idea, but I really like it just the same.

Snickers is a loveable dog, he really is. He just does things that are gross. Most notably, he eats his own and the cat’s poop. Whenever I take him outside to do his doggie-business, it’s a race to the finish with him. The apartment complex management puts out little doodie kiosks from which cheap plastic bags are dispensed, complete with trash cans at their base after business has concluded. I almost have to dive in for the kill with one of these flimsy bags to get to the poop before the dog does.

This is ridiculous!

Why should I have to fight the dog for his poop. Obviously I’m only reinforcing the behavior by acting so excitable when he poops. This tells him that the poop is worth something, and, being a dog, he then must have to have it more than anyone else! He performs, what I call the poop-whirlwind. Snickers doesn’t poop in one place. He’ll pop a squat and then meander around, still in a squatting position. This poop-whirlwind allows him to lay a circular pattern of droppings and continue to poop, all while he eats it. To bolster the technique’s effectiveness, he spins with his butt away from me so I cannot see what he leaves, if anything. I have to assume he has, so I investigate. All the while he has already (*) left another prize for himself in which he will happily partake.

Fortunately for me, I firmly believe my sense of sight is better than this poor dog’s sense of smell – and I wear glasses. It’s sad though really. I think it’s an effect of his upbringing, and it’s all here and the links therefrom. Ame attributes his poop-eating habit to the conditions of his life before living with us, but I know better: He’s a dog. I digress, but I can see six feet away, even in the dark, better than he can sniff out his quarry from mere inches.

The best is when I defeat him and get all the nuggets he leaves. Bad is when I know he beats me to one or more. The worst is when I’m not sure if he gets any or not. I shiver in disgust as I write this, but would you want a dog with maybe-poop on his tongue? At least when I know he gets one I know to tell Ame, “don’t let the dog lick you!” Sometimes she’ll ask me and all I can say is “I dunno…”

Another similar and fun (read: gross) thing he does is eats the cat’s poop. Eris poops in a litter-box like most indoor cats, and when nobody’s looking and the laundry room is accessible, Snickers usually pilfers some litter-covered poop. The latest few times I’ve caught him, he just digs out the turds and places them in cachés. For later I guess? Who knows…

* It was at this point – not before, no no! – I realized I was making a post all about a dog who eats his own shit. Not in the planning phases, not in the ‘twinkle-in-my-eye’ phase… No. During.