I’m not sure whether this French version of Batman would rather take on crime or eat fruit, but you can’t deny that it’d be a shock to see him hanging upside down from a toilet cubicle…

[NimportequiThanks Nic!]

We have featured Star Wars-World War II photography and classic art medleys before, but I like the superhero theme (I know, there’s some Star Wars too, like Darth Vader with Joseph Stalin. How fitting). I don’t get what the hell Batman is doing with Fidel Castro? [Melman and the Hippo via Format Mag]

Like Picasso’s light drawings, the photos by Lapp-Pro are created using a camera with an open shutter. But instead of just using a simple light, these people use a variety of lighting sources that make their photos look from another world. Another world where dorks fight with actual balls of plasma instead of just pretending to do it while making whishwhoosh sounds with their mouths. [Lapp-pro.de via Daily Mail]

“The Shadow Hare” got the backstory right (abused as a child, several foster homes, dedicated his life to stopping crime), but he just doesn’t strike a particularly intimidating pose. And as a general rule to all amateur superheroes: Spandex is a very, very unforgiving fabric, only to be worn by society’s most physically fit. Not, you know, you guys. Or me, in fairness. [Switched]

Produced by a company called FRED, Souper’s limbs are fully posable, so you can eat your Captain Crunch (or Lobster Bisque) with serious superhero style. Perpetual Kid will sell the spoons next month for $10 (on second thought, I still might buy one. But only one). [FRED via 7 Gadgets and Perpetual Kid]

Both Rolling Stone and the Times Online have written about the US’s superhero phenomenon. Labelled by some as a post-9/11 response and apparently spurred by Obama’s call for “active citizenry,” everyday people are dressing up in spandex to patrol the streets in a manner reminiscent of The Watchmen. From Times Online:

They must stand for unambiguous and unsponsored good. They must create their own Spandex and rubber costumes without infringing Marvel or DC Comics copyrights, but match them with exotic names..They must shun guns or knives to avoid being arrested as vigilantes, even if their nemeses may be armed. Their best weapon is not muscle but the internet – an essential tool in their war on crime is a homepage stating the message of doom for super-villains.

If the rules sound unfair, it’s only because they are. Rolling Stone explains that fair isn’t necessarily the point.

As the superheroes see it, the fact that they can’t project energy bolts or summon force fields only adds to the purity of their commitment. Their heroism, in a sense, derives from their lack of powers. What they have instead is the power to craft themselves anew. “This whole movement is more than just fat guys in spandex,” insists Superhero, himself a brawny guy in head-to-toe spandex.

If anyone’s interested, here’s a guide I assembled anticipating just this sort of movement. To the cave that is in no way affiliated with DC trademarks! [Rolling Stone and Times Online via BoingBoing]

We want a “DC vs Marvel: the Springfield Wars” miniseries now. [Springfield Punx, Thanks Oscar]

“If you’re not careful, you’ll be burning rubber down there,” murmured Catwoman, with a derisory nod at his groin. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll be restringing my tennis racquet with your small intestine,” said Batman through gritted teeth.

“I’m intrigued to know what plans you have for my large intestine, darling!” she said with a wink. “Knitting yourself a condom?”

“You, of all people should know that I have no need for those,” he replied. “They don’t call me the Caped Crusader for nothing.” Shifting his hard body so that it was pinning her down to the roof, he freed one hand in order to grab his Batman handcuffs. Immediately, Catwoman saw her chance.

Twisting her back, she managed to free a paw from her opponent’s grasp and, with a swish of air, raked a claw down his cheek.

With a roar, Batman squeezed her prostrate figure between his manly thighs. “You promised you wouldn’t touch my face, you bitch! I’ve got to give one of those after-dinner speeches to the Hoboken Round Table tonight, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Meow!” said Catwoman. “I love it when you get angry with me. Come on then, get the cuffs on and get on with it, as we don’t have much time. What time does dinner start?”

As Batman fiddled with the lock of the cuffs, his sexy partner did a double-take. “What the hell are those? Where are your bat-cuffs?” she shrieked. Batman looked embarrassed. “I lost them. Someone must have swiped them off my belt when we went to see Iron Man last weekend.”

“You’re such a fake,” she spat. “Get off me, I can’t bear you to touch me. Replica cuffs my ass.”

Batman’s lower lip quivered. “Aw, CW, don’t be like that, please. Please! They’re from JLA Trophy Room, and they look just like the real thing. I mean, they’re not bad—they’ve got a bat-shaped key, and they look good on my belt, and they only cost me US$136. And I’m the only person with them, as they’re not out until next year. Can’t you just play along with the fantasy a little bit?”

“Too late, Batty-boy,” came the reply. “I don’t do rip-offs.” With a resigned shrug, Batman released her and watched her go, her tail swishing angrily behind her. [Entertainment Earth via Geek Alerts]