I fear nothing and no one. Not even you -- the biggest and worst bully of all, the one who shattered my confidence and buried the pieces in that dark pit of madness -- locked me fast in the grim stone of Arkham. But I'm out now! Risen again! And I am a strong-willed, single-minded, bat-hating machine! I've spent years honing my violent dance -- endless hours mastering the Crane styl of martial arts. I am a new Scarecrow -- the invincible agent of your doom... I am the vengeance reaper!
I have it on good authority-- Ben Johnson's in fact-- that "Twas only fear first in the world made gods." So it is fitting the vacancy be filled-- and you, my raggedy minions, are going to help me fill it!
Tell me, Father Christian, was talking to the Penguin like making a deal with the devil? Were you angry? Were you scared...?
They are a cowardly and superstitious lot. The faithful, that is. Angry and terrified over their own impending deaths, those who turn to myths of eternal salvation to comfort themselves must also assuage their guilt with fantasies of perpetual damnation. Nearly every religion has a unique vision. Whether it is the Christians' pedestrian and predictable lake of fire--classical Buddhism's seven "Hot Hells," such as the particularly brutal Sanghata, where the damned are dashed between twin mountains--or the Hindus' Deep Abyss of Lower Darkness where vultures feast on the flesh of its ill-fated inhabitants--each of these wildly disparate spectacles of hell can be described in the exact same way...a land without hope.
Fascinating. I never would have imagined that their fear and hopelessness would drive them to this. It is a more hideous reaction than I ever dared dream. Now I aim to become a martyr to my own solitary cause! How positively glorious...!