There is an unwritten, invisible, intangible rule of comics and continuity: once done, it cannot be undone. Not with retroactive continuity, not with "mega" crossovers ala Crisis on Infinite Earths, not by rebooting a series or changing the direction and the creative team. All that can be done is to find new experiences for characters or retire them. Hercules can only kill the Nemean Lion once, and cannot be given additional labours after the audience tires of the canonical 12. However, the new millennium finds writers with less creativity, readers with Liliputian spans of attention, and companies ready to capitalize on thimble-sized memories. Imagine King Arthur waving an AK-47 instead of Excalibur, and when asked about it, only a wink is given as a response. Disbelief is suspended for fiction so long as it remains reasonable to the parameters established. Neglect this truth or stretching the boundaries without regard for the readers' common sense, and you have 95% of comic books today.

One of the greatest beneficiaries of the strike on continuity is Brian Michael Bendis' Daredevil. A character with over 40 years of history is given to a writer with no regard for said history, and an obvious dislike for costumed heroes. In a little over two years, Bendis has reduced Matthew Murdock to a perpetual tragedy and Daredevil to a joke. In truth, Bendis' run owes everything to storylines by D. G. Chicester, Ann Nocenti, and Frank Miller, which will be examined shortly.

"Underboss" begins the Bendis run where we find the Kingpin ambushed like Julius Caesar and Matt nearly killed by the supervillian hitman, Nitro. Nitro isn't in costume, so it isn't until the next issue's summary that a reader (new or old) could definitely know. The story should end here. Kingpin is stabbed more than enough times to kill him; even then you would think they would slit his throat to seal his fate. Matt is hit point blank with the concussive force of nitroglycerine. Still, somehow they live, which sets up a reoccurring problem for the series from this point. Bendis does not regard even his own continuity. Issue #26 begins with an elaborate speech by Mr. Silke, a new generation, no-nonsense mafioso who is tired of the showy dramatics organized crime has become. This is followed by the aforementioned Caesar hit, instead of a bullet to the head. The same for Matt Murdock; instead of a well-placed bullet to the head, he's given Nitro. Two other hitmen, an anonymous sniper and Boomerang try to kill Matt with no success. It must be noted that Boomerang wears a trench coat over his costume, as does Bullseye who makes a brief cameo. Boomerang takes a hit from a returning boomerang that should kill him, and why Bullseye chooses to walk in a mask that is quite visible (he is a wanted assassin who has been on television) are just some questions raised. The most glaring action not taken is that none of these hitmen can kill Matt. Maybe if Mr. Silke had informed them of Matt's secret- no, for some reason, like the Kingpin, he does not expose him. Quite curious after Silke's speech.

Kingpin lives and is rescued by his wife, Vanessa, who exacts a merciless revenge on all involved including her own son, Richard. Before she does we learn that Richard is a disappointment of a son and detested by his father. Let's not confuse him with the Richard Fisk who was (is?) The Rose, a crime boss in his own right who contested the Kingpin's authority in the pages of Spider-Man. How he has become this shell is neither asked or explained by anyone or any reader as the letter page in Daredevil no longer exists. Mr. Silke is the only individual that escapes Vanessa's wrath, which is very convenient for readers as he goes to the FBI for protection and reveals Matt's secret to secure it. This will bring us to the next storyline, "Out".

Before examining "Out", it must be noted that Matt has had his secret questioned on other occasions. What's more, in a storyline by Bob Gale that occurs directly before Bendis' run, Matt and Daredevil (Spider-Man doing the impersonation) appear together in a courtroom being televised. This was never made an issue because: 1) Fans were of mixed opinion on Gale's story. 2) Again, no letter page. 3) Bendis brought his own following to Daredevil. Fans of your writing will usually allow some leeway in storytelling.

"Out" sets the pace for the story with the first part. There will be little of Matt, even less of Daredevil, while your ability to suspend disbelief in repeatedly tested. To believe that the Kingpin was slipshod with Matt's secret is one thing. To believe he didn't know Richard was making it public knowledge is another. Here and in forthcoming issues the queries begin to build. The last time Kingpin was this remiss was in D. G. Chicester's “Last Rites” storyline where Matt finally removes Fisk from power. He eventually regains his status and seeing it happen again is a concrete pill for this reader.

That the FBI would dally with Matt's secret is dubious. Daredevil is not a wanted felon, has the respect of the public, and has absolutely nothing to do with the Kingpin's illegal activities. If the FBI did their homework they would find he was responsible for apprehending Fisk the first time (Last Rites). However, curiosity gets the better of them, and the FBI pushes until it's apparent Matt is Daredevil. We are then supposed to believe that after being so exhaustive in their discovery the FBI won't leak this information. Let's stop here for a moment.

Bendis' premise for his tenure was to explore how "sloppy" Matt had been with his secret. On the contrary, Matt is no more or less sloppy than any other superhero. One would be pressed to find any superhero whose secret is not shared by others, including one supervillian. Matt suffers not from being slapdash, but spotty writing. Silke's purpose is to show how a small, meaningless person can affect someone like Matt, which was shown already by Miller in "Born Again". However, in doing so, Bendis brings even more people into the know. At the end of "Out" no less than four new people learn Matt's secret. The problem is that was done for Daredevil could easily be done for any superhero, making secret identities laughable. Still, we suspend disbelief and believe that Matt's predicament is singular, unique, special.

Matt's secret is sold to the Daily Globe and they make it front page news. As coincidence would have it, the Globe tried to out Matt before in Chicester's "Fall from Grace" storyline. They were discredited then, but must have assumed new leadership with no knowledge of the past incident. New York Times take note: Do not hire Jason Blair again. It would have been fitting if no reporters showed up as this was not a new story or the first time Matt was unsuccessfully linked with Daredevil. Indeed, Bob Gale's story should have made the press wary and doubtful, but it seems they can suspend disbelief as well. One factor that helps to convince the loose-lipped FBI agent, Henry, is a late night visit by Black Widow to Matt's brownstone. Henry puts two and two together, Murdock is Daredevil. Henry must have ignored the fact that Natasha and Matt had a very public relationship; one documented by the press. However, he shouldn’t be concerned the small details that could lead to a lawsuit since the press isn't. Henry's mitigating circumstance for what he does, is that it's to improve his floundering relationship. It’s disturbing to see the selfish cynics that supporting characters have become. Daredevil was once beaten by the Hulk and hospitalized for weeks, with no threat to his identity (Daredevil 164 Vol. I). Instead of people of integrity, the new millennium is bloated with Agent Henrys.

It's also curious to see how characters change under Bendis' hand. Franklin "Foggy" Nelson becomes an overbearing, accusatory nanny who suggests that Matt retire. Foggy who has known Matt from his genesis forgets Matt's drive to see justice done, his murdered father, and the need the city has for a hero like Daredevil. His suggestion is selfish and nowhere near the decorum of his established character. The Black Widow becomes a vapid sex kitten, concerned more with running rooftops than helping Matt sort things. Even Matt acts foolishly, nearly revealing his identity to the eager press.

When a secret identity is revealed, it is expected that the heroes' foes will seek vengeance. Despite the stellar press Matt receives, only Mr. Hyde attacks. With the aid of Spider-Man, who makes an appearance quicker than a minuet, but just enough for the issue 35's cover, Daredevil defeats Hyde by hitting him with a mini-van, a mailbox, and a good right cross. Calvin Zabo, Hyde's "Dr. Jeckyll" needs to check his serum. He used to be able to contend with the Hulk and the Avengers. The parallel here and it is probably not intentional, is that the worse Matt's life gets, the stronger Daredevil becomes. He's survived a blast from Nitro, defeated two hitmen, and thrashed Hyde without any signs of perspiration. Not that this matters because everyone seems to hate Matt and could care less about Daredevil. Again the eloquent speech of Mr. Silke comes to mind. A bullet between the eyes. Now that the secret is out that’s all it would take, but darn it, that would be the end of the story and the comic, so the action remains holstered.

Matt disappears to Japan for 26 days and we're not told why this happens. 15 issues later and we still don't know why. His friendship with Ben Urich is dissolved in attempt to "streamline" his life and not put anyone else in danger. He then calls a press conference and lies on record about his secret, in addition to audaciously suing the Globe for 400 million dollars. Luke Cage is hired to bodyguard Matt, along with Jessica Jones from Bendis' other book Alias. Not that you would know it. Luke has been transformed into a hip-hop joke and Jessica's name isn't mentioned, so if you don't read Alias, you're out of luck. Vanessa calls Matt to dinner, furnishes him with Agent Henry's information, tells him she has dismantled the Fisk empire, and that the bounty on his head is no longer. So many plot threads tied in a neat bow of dialogue. Hopefully Fisk won't be upset at the dismantling as it was his empire. Actually he will, but that is another essay in itself.

When Elektra appears in Daredevil, be concerned. No one has written this character well aside from her creator, Frank Miller. Bendis is no exception. She barely speaks and serves no purpose with her presence except to make Matt a cerebral fool. During Chicester's "Fall from Grace" it's established that Matt is very much over Elektra, but that was Daredevil Volume I. The reboot has also returned his past feelings; it must have or disbelief is spiraling. "Out" ends with Matt successfully forcing the Globe to settle out of court for 75 million. That is until his smugness infuriates the publisher, Rosenthal, who decides to go the distance.

"It's out there now and you can't take it back" (DD 37, Vol. II). Yes it is, but Bendis will try despite the continuity he's created. Matt cannot be allowed to win this case, and too many people know who he is. The next two storylines hold the solution.

"Trial of the Century" and "Lowlife" need not have been written. Both are self-serving and do nil to advance the year old storyline. "Trial of the Century" is the trial of Matt Murdock that will never happen. If Matt wins his civil case it would be too much of a commentary. Heroes don't lie, cheat, and steal to win, but Matt is halfway there, so perhaps hero no longer applies. For Matt to lose, the book would have to be subtitled, "The Man Without Parole", as we would thrill to his adventures of trying to avoid anal rape, solitary, shivs, and the other penitentiary clichés. Instead, Hector Ayala, the White Tiger, is the sacrificial lamb used to illustrate Bendis' point. Ignore Hector's trial is all but won until he conveniently becomes emotional, or that ordinary bailiffs are used to restrain someone of Hector's ability. Forget that the entire focus is on the trial instead of finding the killer, who coincidentally overdoses and escapes justice. Pay no attention to the absence of heroes who are present for testimony, but unseen when needed. To be oblivious to the former still does not change the result: Hector is killed for shock value. He is denied a hero's death or even one with dignity. Fortunately, Daredevil convinces the killer's partner to turn himself in. All's well that ends well.

"Lowlife" introduces us to MGH (Mutant Growth Hormone), a new love interest, Milla, and reacquaints us the Owl, one of Daredevil's oldest foes. None of them are pivotal to the aging storyline, but this quandary hasn't stopped Bendis before. MGH is mentioned but never shown or used, probably because of the ramifications that would ensue from anyone being able to obtain it. Human + MGH= Superhuman. If this fell into the wrong hands. . . . Daredevil’s ability to overturn a parked limousine on his own makes a mind wonder if he's on anything. Milla presents a continuity issue. Matt cut off Ben Urich to protect him. Milla is given the key to the city at their first meeting. Matt doesn't try to deny his secret, so lying is something he performs selectively. After their first date, Milla is detained while Matt is brought in for questioning by the authorities. The kicker isn't that she still wants to date Matt, it's that he allows her to remain. This from a man who has had two girlfriends murdered by Bullseye. Ben Urich must be blushing at Matt's discretion.

Matt's arrest results from the decapitation of the Globe's publisher. Coincidentally, Mr. Silke is also done in the same way by the same man. Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin, has returned. He should change his name to Liquid Plumber for the way he clears plot congestion. Now Matt can escape trial and Silke won't be a dangling plot thread. It's a shame about the publisher. Silke receives poetic justice dying at the hands of the man he tried to kill. Rosenthal printed the truth, but get too close to Murdock and your life is forfeit.

The Owl serves a cursory purpose by being a costumed villain. Aside from this, his appearance is wasted. He does help to highlight Bendis' treatment of characters. Everyone has a boiling point that when reached causes them to react angrily, irrationally, and become ridiculously verbose. Hector Ayala, Foggy, Owl, and especially Matt all display this trait. It must be generic genetic. "Lowlife" is eponymous as it is the name given to Matt by Luke Cage. He could not be more apropos.

"Hardcore" reminds us although a title should connect to the story's theme, it does not have to. Issues 46-50 are pabulum with an IQ of soup. It's hard not to be cynical, but it seems three of Daredevil's staunchest adversaries are brought back for effect only. Typhoid Mary, who was last seen in Daredevil over a decade ago, seems to be here only to push the Typhoid Mary trade paperback coinciding with the issue #46. Her appearance is spread over three issues, one of which is a digression that interrupts the fight between her and Matt just as she ignites him (Daredevil #47 Vol. II). Despite what issue 49's summary says, she's defeated by Luke Cage, who graciously allows Matt a very public coup de grace. No worries about secret identities here. Matt's recuperative abilities have grown, as he survives his ignition with only relative redness. Since comics have moved towards realism, asbestos suit lining is out of the question.

Bullseye, who is touted as Daredevil's Joker is reduced to a mere annoyance. He's told as much by Daredevil while a bull's-eye is carved into his forehead. While not quite a movie tie-in since the film debuted months before, there's no doubt where the impetus comes from. Bullseye's costume was nixed for the movie because those in charge thought he would resemble a "tool." Despite no change in Daredevil or Elektra's costumes and the Kingpin's melanin remaining steady, Bullseye needed the upgrade. Again the distaste of costumes and masks in Daredevil's clear, and the movie allows for a quick fix. Recalling back to the storylines inception, there have been no costumed villains; at least not the traditional ones. Trench coats, leather, and popular gear are the costume. Ask Luke Cage; he's less of a joke in superfluous headphones, skullcap, baggy denim and zipped-open vest, than a metal headband, blue tights, and a yellow plunging neckline shirt. Kevin Smith publicly took responsibility for the confusing dialogue. Smith's incomplete Daredevil: The Target was referenced by Bendis, readers have not seen issue #2 of the four issue series. It's amazing how Smith's unread continuity and Brian Azzarello's make over of Luke Cage are respected, while Gale's, Chicester's, and others are forgotten.

Issue #50 is an exercise in bathos. Fisk, who seems poised for a comeback, is suddenly just a fat man in a T-shirt. It's problematic to account for his weight loss from issue #45-49, where he seemed like his 6'5", 300lb self. Suffice to say he looks imposing as a vagrant. When Fisk informs a nuisance he has ordered the rape and murder of his wife, the man's reaction is a smile. He still has the ability to clean up clogs though. MGH is done away with, and Fisk reveals he never exposed Matt because he knew he would deny it. He's also had surgery to restore his sight, something he should have done before he was stabbed, but being a crime lord means never taking a sick day. Daredevil and Kingpin have fought three times. To say this fight is lacking would be litotes. Daredevil has easily put down foes bigger than he is. The draw with Kingpin was his size, strength, and his ability to fight. With his weight loss went his fighting skills as he is just a barroom brawler here. Matt makes his customary histrionic speech, verbose and irrational beyond need. Then he drives Fisk through a plate glass window and unmasks himself before the bar filled with the criminal element. No, that's not the sound of screeching tires and breaking glass, it’s disbelief finally hitting bedrock.

Daredevil has left a veteran reader on the fence. It has become the speculative jest that comics are labeled to be. It is meretricious in its vanity and indolent in its craft, though the exceptional loyalty of fans to the character make it successful. It has taken a shorter time for deconstruction, than it did to develop the character. His rogues gallery has been decimated, while no new villains were created. His supporting cast is transient. Other heroes make meaningless appearances or are used solely to promote the sales of other books. The stroke that lights the indignation is that this character is no longer a hero. He is now an arrogant, invincible liar.

Daredevil has become a self-absorbed Charlie Brown story about a man named Murdock who just can't catch a break. He lies, no longer seeks justice, endangers innocents, all to preserve a secret he no longer seems to care about. Hopefully he's not having yet another nervous breakdown, but this reader won't remain to learn what fate awaits Matthew Murdock. Part of me wishes Silke had just put a gun to his head, because what remains for Daredevil is the equivalent of the trigger being pulled. "I write characters not superheroes," Bendis was quoted as saying. A review of the word should remind us that it is about character, not hype, stunts, or formulae that Daredevil has survived so many years. Without character, something Daredevil is woefully lacking, its future is suspect.