It's still such a great piece of work. No one pieces together inner-monologue like Frank Miller. Just that very first page of DKR, where Bruce describes wrestling for control of the racecar, is executed in the most badass way.
"I've got the home stretch all to myself when the readings stop making sense. I switch to manual - but the computer crosses its own circuits and refuses to let go. I coax it. It shoves hot needles in my face and tries to make me blind. I'm in charge now and I like it. Then the front end lurches all wrong. I know what's coming. I've got just under two seconds to shut this mess down and forfeit the race. The engine, angry, argues the point with me. The finish line is close it roars. Too close. The left front tire decides to turn all on its own. I laugh at it and jerk the steering wheel to the right. The nose digs up a chunk of macadam. I look up at it - then straight into the eyes of the sun. This would be a good death... but not good enough."
And that's without the pictures!
