The transgender-identifying comic book creator who celebrated Charlie Kirk’s death on social media will no longer be producing work for DC Comics, the entertainment company has announced. The mature readers comic series “Red Hood,” a Batman spinoff project, was written by Gretchen Felker-Martin and had artwork by Jeff Spokes. The first book launched on the same day Kirk was murdered, September 10.  Felker-Martin’s account on Bluesky is currently suspended, but other users took screenshots to capture his vile reactions. When reports first came in that Kirk was shot, the comic book creator wrote, “Thoughts and prayers you Nazi b****.” “Hope the bullet’s okay after touching Charlie Kirk,” a follow-up post said. “The job market is grim, but there’s a silver lining: Gavin Newsom needs a new co-host for his podcast,” Felker-Martin wrote in a third post, referencing a time Kirk and Newsom filmed a podcast episode together. This prompted DC to cancel the next two planned installments of “Red Hood” and offer retailers reimbursement for any unsold copies of the first issue. In a statement to io9, DC said it places “the highest value on our creators and community and affirm the right to peaceful, individual expression of personal viewpoints. Posts or public comments that can be viewed as promoting hostility or violence are inconsistent with DC’s standards of conduct,” per Gizmodo. This isn’t the first time the trans-identifying man celebrated violence. Referring to anti-trans activist J.K. Rowling, Felker-Martin previously wrote on Bluesky, “I hope someone splits her skull,” earning himself a temporary suspension for violation of policies. In 2022, Felker-Martin made headlines for releasing the novel “Manhunt,” which included a storyline about burning Rowling alive. He described the book as a, “depraved psychosexual horrorshow.” Other media personalities were also penalized for their reactions to Kirk’s assasination. Middle Tennessee State University terminated an employee following what the university president described as “inappropriate and callous” comments made on social media. In a statement released late Wednesday night, MTSU President Sidney A. McPhee confirmed that the employee was let go. “This employee has been fired effective immediately,” McPhee stated. “We extend our deepest sympathies to the Kirk family.” MSNBC also severed ties with Matt Dowd for his reaction to the tragedy. “Hateful thoughts lead to hateful words, which then lead to hateful actions,” Dowd said during an appearance on “Katy Tur Reports” just after the shooting. “You can’t stop with these sort of awful thoughts you have and then saying these awful words and then not expect awful actions to take place.” Dowd added, “We don’t know if this was a supporter shooting their gun off in celebration. So we have no idea about this.” MSNBC apologized for his remarks, with network president Rebecca Kutler calling the comments “inappropriate, insensitive and unacceptable” in a statement posted to social media. “We apologize for his statements, as has he,” Kutler wrote. “There is no place for violence in America, political or otherwise.”

The suspect allegedly had a fake gun

'We can no longer afford the cost'

Remembering Charlie Kirk

'Nobody deserves that'

'Ensure the security of our work'

'Look at the actions of what we are doing'

'No historical tradition supports Florida's open carry ban.'

Movies & TV Star Trek: Strange New Worlds “All you have to do is look up at the stars” — Star Trek: Strange New Worlds: “New Life and New Civilizations” With prequels, certain story beats are inevitable, but can still make an impact… By Keith R.A. DeCandido | Published on September 11, 2025 Credit: Paramount+ Comment 1 Share New Share Credit: Paramount+ Here’s the problem with doing a prequel with established characters: we know what’s going to happen to a whole lot of them, which puts barriers up on certain story notions. It doesn’t completely limit storytelling. For one thing, storytelling generally resists attempts to limit it. And even when you know characters’ futures, there’s still plenty of room for powerful tales. As evidence, I point to, not just this very show, but also two fantastic recent examples, Better Call Saul and Star Wars: Andor. But there are story angles that are closed off, and also certain conclusions that are foregone. On this show, we know that, at the very least, Pike, Spock, Uhura, Scotty, Chapel, Korby, M’Benga, and both Kirks will still be around several years’ hence. And we know enough details about them (some more than others, obviously) that certain avenues are, if not cut off, at least severely limited. The third-season finale of SNW addresses one of those avenues, as we have to come to the inevitable end of the Pike-Batel relationship. I chose the word inevitable there quite specifically. This relationship was doomed from the start, because Pike obviously wasn’t with Batel in “The Menagerie”; indeed, she wasn’t even a factor. If Pike had a significant other, that’s something that would’ve come up, especially given Pike’s final fate, which was to live out his life on Talos IV with Vina, their respective injuries masked by the Talosians’ telepathy. So at some point over the course of SNW, the Pike-Batel relationship was going to have to end. I find myself wondering if this was the plan all along, or if they were at first going to do something more mundane to just break them up. The problem is, Anson Mount and Melanie Scrofano have had such superlative chemistry that just having them break up was going to be either unconvincing or would require mangling one of their characters enough to make it convincing, which would be unsatisfying. Instead, we close out the third season with a payoff to the cure for the Gorn infestation Batel received in “Shuttle to Kenfori” as well as the fight that broke out between Batel and the Vezda-possessed corpse of Nurse Gamble in “Through the Lens of Time.” Over the course of this episode we learn that the fancy-shmancy rare flower that they retrieved from Kenfori to cure Batel didn’t just hybridize the Gorn DNA with hers, but instead transformed her into the guardian that was keeping the Vezda imprisoned on Vadia IX (or, more accurately, in the interdimensional prison that can be accessed via Vadia IX). The Vezda that possessed Gamble has been hiding in the Enterprise medical computer (as implied by the very last shot of “Through the Lens…”), and managed to reconstruct Gamble’s body from the medical transporter buffer. He has gone to Skygowan, another world from which he can access the prison (and where Korby is right now). Batel has come to realize her purpose—backed up by a medical scan that shows that she’s now genetically identical to the guardian in the prison—and so has to confront the Vezda and reimprison them. So we do lose her, but it’s a sacrifice she makes in order to keep the galaxy safe from the Vezda. And just to remind us how awful they are, Gamble deliberately torments M’Benga as much as he can, and also makes a large chunk of the Skygowan population gouge their eyes out to prepare them for being possessed by the Vezda. Fun people, the Vezda are… Just before the final battle between Batel and the Vezda, she sends her and Pike into—er, something. It might be a dream sequence, it might be an alternate timeline, it might be a Talosian-style illusion. But whatever it is, it, “Inner Light”-style, has Pike and Batel living out their happily ever after. They marry, they have a kid (and a dog). When Pike goes on the cadet cruise on the Class-J ship, they’re both stunned when he doesn’t get hit with delta rays and instead gets out of it unscathed. They live together to old age, and only when she’s on her deathbed does she reveal the truth: that these memories will stay with both of them to remind them each what they are fighting for. Credit: Paramount+ Amazingly, this adds further texture to the framing sequence of “The Menagerie.” Throughout Part 1 of that two-parter, Pike is constantly telling Spock “no” when Spock kidnaps him to take him to Talos IV. Pike’s foreknowledge of his confinement to a convalescent chair back in Discovery’s “Through the Valley of Shadows” and his subsequent acceptance of that (despite some hiccups, notably in “A Quality of Mercy”) explains why he was so reluctant to go along with Spock’s crazy-ass plan. Now we have another reason: he already has detailed memories of a happy life with Batel. He knows that he’ll be trapped in a body that will be ravaged by radiation so much that he will be in constant pain, but he also will refuse Spock’s help, because he has these memories. I also have to give props to the script, credited to two of the show’s executive producers, Dana Horgan & Davy Perez, and especially to the direction by the superlative Maja Vrvilo (one of the best of the regular slate of directors Trek has been using the last eight years) for the dream sequence/illusion/alternate reality/what-the-hell-ever. The cuts to show the passage of time are simple and subtle, and I especially love the use of knocking on the door as a motif. I have heard arguments that Batel is fridged here, and I can see the argument, but I’m not quite there to accept it for the very reasons I outlined above. The relationship was always doomed thanks to Batel’s absence from “The Menagerie.” She needed to be written out, and this way she goes out in a blaze of glory, giving Pike a lovely mental gift and also saving a shit-ton of lives. Besides, this doesn’t really fit the criteria. A fridging is a gratuitous death of a female character whose death’s sole plot purpose is to motivate the hero. That doesn’t apply here. Pike is a bystander to her sacrifice—and also an aid to it. It’s the death of a hero, not the death of a girlfriend. (Having said that, I can see the argument. Feel free to discuss this further in the comments…) One of the side-plots involves our heroes needing to open up the portal on Skygowan that leads to the interdimensional prison. Scotty and Pelia hit on the notion of ship’s phasers, but a single ship only has about fifty percent of the power. So they do it with two ships, since the Farragut is also nearby, and Captain V’Rel apparently is indebted enough to the Enterprise crew for saving her life in “The Sehlat Who Ate Its Tail” that she’s willing to go along with this. Because apparently Horgan and Perez don’t understand how computers work, we are told that a mind-meld between two pilots is the only way to coordinate the two ships’ joint firing solution. (It would make much more sense for an independent computer system to control both ships simultaneously, but I guess that violates Trek’s long-standing inconsistent animus against automation.) Spock and Kirk are the ones who must mind-meld. First off, let me give major credit to the script for queer-coding the shit out of the scene in which Spock and Ortegas approach Kirk, which I’m sure made legions of slash fanfic writers giddy with glee. (I certainly chortled mightily.) And second of all, for all that it was dumb, it was lovely watching Paul Wesley and Ethan Peck talk in stereo as they did the thing. The episode does not end with a cliffhanger, thank goodness, nor even with a surprise ending or any other kind of tease. It simply concludes with the Enterprise going off on their next mission. Which is as it should be. Next week, I’ll do an overview of this very uneven third season.[end-mark] The post “All you have to do is look up at the stars” — <i>Star Trek: Strange New Worlds</i>: “New Life and New Civilizations” appeared first on Reactor.

Books book reviews Predatory Natures by Amy Goldsmith Is a Lush Tangle of Supernatural and Human Horrors A mesmerizing, meaningful tangle of a tale. By Maura Krause | Published on September 11, 2025 Comment 0 Share New Share The word “predator” has several applications. Some may first associate it with animals possessing claws and fangs, while others may think of morally bankrupt people seeking gratification at the expense of others. Still more may think of vicious capitalist practices designed to part individuals from their hard-earned money. Amy Goldsmith’s cleverly-titled new young adult novel, Predatory Natures, revolves around this multi-faceted meaning of the term, tackling coercive control in romantic relationships, financial greed, and of course, inexorable devouring nature. Goldsmith’s transporting book is narrated by Lara, an eighteen-year-old who accepts a job on a luxury train to get away from her shameful and suffocating past in Wales. She dreams of making decent money on the ominously named Banebury, before getting off at its terminus in Tallinn and then backpacking her carefree way home across Europe. Lara’s dreams quickly take a hit when her former friend Rhys arrives, also ready to work on the train. This shouldn’t be wholly unexpected, as Rhys was the one to find the job listing several months ago, but it is indicative of Lara’s desperation that she’s managed to forget that fact.  It’s soon apparent that tall and handsome Rhys played a prominent role in whatever our narrator is running from, and that Lara also harbors confusing romantic feelings for him. The two establish a wary detente, which is easy at first thanks to the demands of serving the Banebury’s wealthy clientele. Yet in the middle of the night, several cars are attached to the back of the train, and in the morning two new passengers appear: Gwendolyn and Gwydion Llewellyn. Despite Gwydion’s initial nastiness, Lara finds herself drawn to the Welsh boy—but not as drawn as she is to the locked greenhouse carriages he and his sister brought with them. Though the official line is that Gwen is a scientist bringing specialized plants to a lab, Lara’s sneaky forays into the forbidden carriages lead her to believe there is something else going on. The barriers between her and Rhys begin to crack as the two work together to figure out what’s really happening on the Banebury. Vines creep along the train’s lush carpets at night and the greenhouse vegetation grows faster than seems possible. Rhys thinks he sees someone watering the plants with blood, while Lara is convinced that one passenger is coughing up petals. Even as they protect one another and confer in each other’s cabins, the pair’s unspoken history simmers away. This looming backstory is slowly revealed in drawn-out flashbacks that often throw Lara off-balance. Though Goldsmith skillfully builds this hidden narrative to a crescendo right as the train action becomes its most thrilling, some readers may find this attenuation of Lara’s memories a bit frustrating. The trauma of the situation is quickly clear even as the events remain fogged: Lara was in a psychologically abusive relationship.  Buy the Book Predatory Natures Amy Goldsmith Buy Book Predatory Natures Amy Goldsmith Buy this book from: AmazonBarnes and NobleiBooksIndieBoundTarget Thankfully, Goldsmith stays away from over-painting this portrait of Lara’s nauseating former relationship and allows Lara to be smart and brave as well as refreshingly teenaged in her see-sawing feelings and lurching self-awareness. Moreover, Lara’s painful past is not merely a foundation established for the sole purpose of this protagonist’s eventual empowerment. Without giving too much away, it turns out that at the heart of the terrifying plant growth is an eerie and ancient story about a woman created solely to please a man. Though Lara has already mapped her experience of abuse onto the fairytale “Fitcher’s Bird” (a version of “Bluebeard”), she continues to wrestle with feelings of guilt and blame, which many who’ve suffered coercive control will recognize. It seems like Lara’s evolving connection to this Welsh myth emerges from her awful past—but whether for good or ill, it is impossible to say. Goldsmith elegantly splices this substantive and moving emotional core to several delicious and underused tropes. For one, she uses the luxury train mystery setting to its fullest effect. Agatha Christie famously demonstrated that trapping rich people and death on a moving train creates some very fruitful possibilities for plot and tension. Goldsmith picks up all of this and more, making satisfying use of class resentments, hurtling isolation, and of course, blood on the carpet. Guest cabins seem to offer safety in their privacy, but end up being as replete with danger as the dimly lit and plushly curtained Orchid Lounge. For another, the train’s unsettling flora is both seductive and threatening. Lara’s first time in the greenhouses is practically a euphoric experience for her, sweet-smelling and full of color; it is only later than the overgrowth begins to bind and suffocate. A passenger steals a bouquet of glorious deep purple flowers, only for Gwen to explain they are highly poisonous. In the same way that Lara’s vile ex-boyfriend’s golden handsomeness hid rot beneath, much of the plantlife and the people on the Banebury are not what they seem. Thanks to these showier elements, Predatory Natures is a fun read, and thanks to the human horror behind Lara’s deep wound, Predatory Natures is also meaningful. Goldsmith’s novel is a mesmerizing tangle of a tale to get lost in, capped with a satisfying ending that leads readers back out of the woods.[end-mark] Predatory Natures is published by Delacorte Press. The post <i>Predatory Natures</i> by Amy Goldsmith Is a Lush Tangle of Supernatural and Human Horrors appeared first on Reactor.