- 1 History
- 2 Journal Entries
- 2.1 March 18th, 1964
- 2.2 June 11th, 1968
- 2.3 August 14th, 1979
- 2.4 October 12th, 1985
- 2.5 October 13th, 1985
- 2.6 October 13th, 1985, 8:30 P.M.
- 2.7 October 13th, 1985, 11:30 P.M.
- 2.8 October 16th, 1985
- 2.9 October 21st, 1985
- 2.10 October 21st, 1985 (2)
- 2.11 October 21st, 1985 (3)
- 2.12 November 1st, 1985
- 3 Journal Entries (DC Timeline)
- 4 Trivia
- 5 Behind the Scenes
Rorschach continued writing in the journal as late as 1985 when he began investigating the murder of former colleague Edward Blake, aka, the Comedian. Rorschach kept his journal in short-hand, which oddly enough, also reflected the way that he spoke to other people.
Rorschach's final entry in his second journal was in November 1st, 1985 and took place just prior to his ill-fated mission to Antarctica to confront his former colleague, Adrian Veidt. Just before leaving, Rorschach mailed the final draft of his journal to the New Frontiersman office for safekeeping, in the hope that even if he dies, the information within his journal will one day help expose Veidt.
March 18th, 1964
"The face is finished at last - Wonderful black and white, as all things should be. I am glad I decided to keep the dress these past two years. The face is perfect, a thing of true beauty... A face that can shelter me from the world and hide my weary senses. A face which I can finally stare down in the mirror.
From this point on, I've decided to write down everything I see and experience which might possibly have a bearing upon my nocturnal mission. This journal will be a complete record of my deeds which I can refer back to and a voucher to show the angels when they come looking for me on Judgement Day.
I'll start tonight with the woman and her killers."
—March 18th, 1964 entry of Rorschach's journal
This is Rorschach's first journal entry, written in his very first journal, immediately after he finished creating his mask from the Kitty Genovese dress. It is one of three entries written by Alan Moore for the Watchmen Sourcebook, for the Watchmen RPG model released in the early 90s. In this entry, he details that he has finished the face, that he is glad he kept the dress and that he finally has a face that he can stare down in the mirror. He also explains that he has decided to keep an account of all he sees and experiences that could have an effect on his nocturnal mission. It is an account of his mission that he can refer back to, and a voucher of his achievements for when the angels come to collect him on Judgement Day. To end the entry, he writes "I'll start tonight, with the woman and her killers." It is notable that his writing style is much more natural and organic sounding, with full sentences and a very straightforward demeanor.
June 11th, 1968
"Counted seventeen transients in neighborhood this morning. Must remember to begin looking for new apartment tomorrow.
City is changing.
It is being speckled by first few drops of impenetrable black ink, and sooner or later the rest of the bottle will inevitably come gushing down in pursuit. I can see it, smell it - spectral residents, iron fortresses stretching out into the sky. Ten billion dots of phosphorescent light arrayed as toothpaste commercials and puerile fantasies... Dopers, politicians, preachers, whores, hippies, liars, pushers, poets, advocates, thieves... All are gray. Soon to be black and truly great men are all no longer with us - General Patton, President Truman... my father.
Once a year I ponder most ancient of riddles ... which came first? Were these men like Atlas of myth, laboring to bear the world aloft, desperately seeking their successors and finally dying unfulfilled, leaving us all to plunge down into depravity?
Or did forces of compromise take a more active role in whole affair, loosing their snarling dogs and hunting down each of them one-by-one, opening the way for some sinister masterplan?
And if latter formulation is correct, when did hunt begin? Has all of recorded history been merely a slow, steady slide into the abyss?"
—June 11th, 1968 entry of Rorschach's journal
In this second Sourcebook-exclusive entry, he notes that his neighborhood is degrading, having spotted 17 transients. He reminds himself to look for a new apartment the next day. He says that the city is changing, and that the few splatterings of black ink will give way to the entire bottle flooding the city. He blames dopers, politicians, preachers, whores, hippies, liars, pushers, poets and thieves for this. He asks whether great men are holding the world aloft and waiting for their successors, or if "the forces of compromise" take a more active role and release their dogs to hunt down each of them, one by one, to open the way for a sinister masterplan. He then ponders that if the latter is true, then when did the hunt begin? Has all of recorded history been a slow, steady slide into the abyss? Clearly, his mental state has begun to degrade.
August 14th, 1979
"Seems I have at least one ally here in the lair of the weak. Pursued by a group of police officers this evening. A cab driver stopped and offered me a ride... seems he recognized my face.
Told me I was his hero, told me he was compelled to war against the simmers and the politicians and the false prophets as well. Asked me how I always managed to escape my pursuers... how I always managed to return to the streets.
Told him that remaining on the streets is easy. Told him that the police do not find me because they do not want to find me. Police protect the public from people the public can never hope to understand... I protect the police from the people the police can never hope to understand. We have neither love not respect for each other... but we each understand the other's function.
One day, all will change. Police will become so desperate that they'll finally lock me away in one of their cages. The they'll look down from their watchtowers in horror as they realize my incarceration has not even pulled them up a single rung much less raised them out of the pit.
I've been faithful to my journal... my voucher when that day comes, I'll be ready."
—August 14th, 1979 entry of Rorschach's journal
In the last of the Sourcebook entries, he notes that he has at least one ally, a cab driver who helped him escape from the police and respects him. He asked Rorschach how he managed to escape from the police, to which Rorschach replies by saying the police don't want to catch him. He elaborates by saying the police protect the public from people the public can never understand. He says that he protects the police from people they can never understand. He says that there is no love between them, nor respect, but there is an understanding of their functions. He says that the day will come where the police become desperate and will lock him up, and they'll realize in horror that his incarceration hasn't pulled them up one rung much less raised them from the entire pit. He ends the entry by saying he has been faithful to his journal... his voucher for when that day comes.
October 12th, 1985
"Dog carcass in alley this morning. Tire tread on burst stomach. The city is afraid of me. I have seen it's true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout "save us!"... and I'll look down and whisper "no".
They had a choice, all of them. They could have followed in the footsteps of good men like my father, or president Truman. Decent men who believed in a day's work for a day's pay. Instead they followed the droppings of lechers and communists and didn't realize that the trail led over a precipe until it was too late. Don't tell me they didn't have a choice. Now the whole world stands on the brink, staring down into bloody Hell, all those liberals and intellectuals and smooth talkers...and all of a sudden nobody can think of anything to say."
—October 12th, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
This entry opens Chapter I: At Midnight, All the Agents..., giving introduction with Rorschach's perception of New York. The Comedian's badge is seen as his blood is washed from the sidewalk below his apartment, and a man walks by with a sign that reads "The End is Nigh."
Rorschach claims he has seen New York's true face and refers to its people as vermin who follow lechers and communists. He says all the liberals and intellectuals and smooth-talkers will see the end and all of a sudden not have anything to say.
The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout "Save us!"...and I'll look down, and whisper "No."
October 13th, 1985
"Slept all day. Awoken at 4:37. Landlady complaining about smell. She has five children by five different fathers. I am sure she cheats on welfare. Soon it will be dark. Beneath me, this awful city, it screams like an abattoir full of retarded children. New York. On Friday night, a comedian died in New York. Somebody knows why. Down there...somebody knows. The dusk reeks of fornication and bad consciences. I believe I shall take my exercise.
First visit of evening fruitless. Nobody knew anything. Feel slightly depressed. This city is dying of rabies. Is the best I can do to wipe random flecks of foam from its lips? Never despair. Never surrender. I leave the human cockroaches to discuss their heroin and child pornography. I have business elsewhere with a better class of person."
—October 13th, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
Also in Chapter I, Rorschach investigates Eddie Blake's apartment to discover that Blake was the costumed vigilante formerly known as the Comedian. Rorschach warns Dan Dreiberg about the 'mask killer'. He is seen writing atop a building. He gets down the stairs and enters Happy Harry's, asking questions and breaking one man's fingers.
He talks about his landlady, who cheats on her welfare, and notes how he will investigate the death of the Comedian. After leaving Happy Harry's he writes that he has business elsewhere with a 'better class of person.'
October 13th, 1985, 8:30 P.M.
"Meeting with Veidt left bad taste in mouth. He is pampered and decadent, betraying even his shallow, liberal affections. Possibly homosexual? Must remember to investigate further. Dreiberg as bad. A flabby failure who sits whimpering in his basement. Why are so few of us left active, healthy, and without personality disorders? The first Nite Owl runs an auto repair shop. The first Silk Spectre is a bloated, aging whore, dying in a Californian rest resort. Captain Metropolis was decapitated in a car crash back in '74. Mothman's in an asylum up in Maine. The Silhouette retired in disgrace, murdered six weeks later by a minor adversary seeking revenge. Dollar Bill got shot. Hooded Justice went missing in '55. The Comedian is dead. Only two names remaining on my list. Both share private quarters at Rockefeller Military Research Center. I shall go to them. I shall go and tell the indestrucible man that someone plans to murder him."
—October 13th, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
Rorschach refers to Veidt as 'pampered and decadent, betraying even his own shallow, liberal affectations,' and speculates that he might be homosexual, making a note to investigate the idea further when he has time. He refers to Dan Dreiberg as being 'a flabby failure who sits whimpering in his basement.' He also calls the first Silk Spectre a 'bloated, aging whore, dying in a Californian resort.' He reveals the death of Captain Metropolis, who was 'decapitated in a car crash back in '74.' He notes Mothman being in an asylum in Maine, as well how the Silhouette 'retired in disgrace, murdered six weeks later by a minor adversary seeking revenge.' Then he explains that there are only two of the past Crimebusters left to warn. He points out how seemingly pointless this last action is when he says 'I shall go and tell the indestructible man that someone plans to murder him.'
October 13th, 1985, 11:30 P.M.
"On Friday night, a comedian died in New York. Someone threw him out a window and when he hit the sidewalk his head was driven up into his stomach. Nobody cares. Nobody cares but me. Are they right? Is it futile? Soon there will be war. Millions will burn. Millions will perish in sickness and misery. Why does one death matter against so many? Because there is good and there is evil, and evil must be punished. Even in the face of Armageddon I shall not compromise in this. But there are so many deserving of retribution...and there is so little time."
—October 13th, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
His last entry in Chapter I follows his confrontation with Doctor Manhattan, and after being teleported outside of the Rockefeller Military Research Center when Laurie Juspeczyk asked him to leave. He walks past a graffiti-filled alley (a poster advertising a Pale Horse concert at the Madison Square Garden, a peace sign, a sports raving, "Krystalnacht", and "Who watches the Watchmen?"), also by a woman and man in a window making love, and then another poster that has President Nixon with 'Four more years' written below it.
Rorschach writes about the death of the Comedian and how he's the only one who cares. He wonders if everyone is right for not caring, since 'soon there will be war. Millions will burn. Millions will perish in sickness and misery.' He asks why one death matter against so many.
October 16th, 1985
"42nd Street: Womens breasts draped across every billboard, every display, littering the sidewalk. Was offered Swedish love and French love...but not American love. American love; like Coke in green glass bottles...they don't make it anymore. Thought about Moloch's story on way to cemetery. Could all be lies. Could all be part of a revenge scheme, planned during his decade behind bars. But if true, then what? Puzzling reference to an island. Also to Dr. Manhattan. Might he be at risk in some way? So many questions. Never mind. Answers soon. Nothing is insoluble. Nothing is hopeless. Not while there's life. In the cemetery, all the white crosses stood in rows, neat chalk marks on a giant scoreboard. Paid last respects quietly, without fuss. Edward Morgan Blake. Born in 1924. Forty-five years a comedian. Died 1985, buried in the rain. Is that what happens to us? A life of conflict with no time for friends...so that when it's done, only our enemies leave roses. Violent lives, ending violently. Dollar Bill , The Silhouette, Captain Metropolis...we never die in bed. Not allowed. Something in our personalities, perhaps? Some animal urge to fight and struggle, making us what we are? Unimportant. We do what we have to do. Blake understood. Treated it like a joke, but he understood. He saw the cracks in society, saw the little men in masks trying to hold it together...he saw the true face of the twentieth century and chose to become a reflection of it, a parody of it. No one else saw the joke. That's why he was lonely. Heard joke once: Man goes into doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says "Treatmen is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says "But, Doctor...I am Pagliacci." Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains."
—October 16th, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
This entry is in Chapter II: Absent Friends, after the Comedian's burial and Rorschach's visit to Moloch's he walks down 42nd Street and passes a business called Burlesk, with a sign that reads 'Tonite Enola Gay and the Little Boys'. Rorschach is seen being offered sex from a hooker, however, he refuses and is flipped off. Then he picks the lock to the cemetery and enters where the Comedian was buried. There is a flashback to Eddie Blake's death, and being thrown out of his apartment window, and then Rorschach takes one of the red roses that were lain at his grave.
He notes women's breasts being displayed on every billboard and littering the sidewalk. He suspects Moloch for the death of the Comedian, suggesting it was part of a revenge scheme that was planned during his decade behind bars. He says he pays his last respects quietly, without fuss, referring to the priest's scripture reading. He comments on how Edward Blake was buried in the rain, how there's a life of conflict with no time for friends, and that when it's done, 'only our enemies leave roses.' He notes that masked adventurers never die in bed, 'not allowed,' saying it might be something in their personalities, 'some animal urge to fight and struggle.' He shrugs the idea, saying it's unimportant, 'we do what we have to do.' He believes that Blake understood the world's behavior, even though he treated it like a joke, becoming a parody of it. 'No one else saw the joke. That's why he was lonely.'
He then tells a joke he heard once: "Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says 'Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.' Man bursts into tears. Says 'But, doctor...I am Pagliacci.'" He then calls it a good joke. 'Everybody laugh.'
October 21st, 1985
"Left Jacobi's house at 2:35 A.M. He knows nothing about any attempt to discredit Dr. Manhattan. He has simply been used. By whom? Russians seem obvious choice: Manhattan and Comedian both key military figures. But Comedian referred to an island. Artists and writers living on it. Doesn't fit. Can't concentrate. Too tired. No sleep since Saturday. Walked home past trashcans stuffed with rumors od war, weighing factors-bodies, motives...waiting for a flash of enlightenment in all this blood and thunder."
—October 21st, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
Rorschach believes Moloch knows nothing about the attempt to discredit Dr. Manhattan and that he has only been used. Rorschach suspects the Russians since the Comedian and Manhattan were both key U.S. military figures. He says he hasn't slept since Saturday, and he's too tired to concentrate.
October 21st, 1985 (2)
"Woken at eleven by shouting. Disturbed to find I had fallen asleep without removing the skin from my head. Tireder than I thought. Should be more careful. Across street, boy's were defacing abandoned building. Memorized their descriptions then prepared for work. First, peeled off face, folded it inside jacket. Without my face, nobody knows. Nobody knows who I am. On way out of room met landlady. Usual complaints Re: Hygiene and Rent. There were purple bite marks on her fat white neck. Fresh ones. Out in street, inspected defaced building: silhouette picture in doorway, man and woman, possibly engaging in sexual foreplay. Didn't like it. Makes doorway look haunted. On Fortieth and Seventh, saw Dreiberg and Juspeczyk leaving diner. They didn't know me. An affair, perhaps? Did Juspeczyk engineer Dr. Manhattan's exhile to make room for Dreiberg? Also, she hated the Comedian. Must investigate further. Entering diner, bought coffee, then sat watching my maildrop, immediately across the street. Passer's by made various deposits: candy wrappers, newspapers. This city is an animal, fierce and complicated. To understand it I read it's droppings, it's scents, the movement of it's parasites...I sat watching the trashcan and New York opened it's heart to me."
—Second October 21st, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
His second entry is also in Chapter V. Since his last entry he has been asleep. He takes off his mask and looks at a group of knot-tops putting graffiti on a door. He talks with his landlady and sees Dan Dreiberg and Laurie Juspeczyk coming out of Gunga Diner, although they cannot identify him because he isn't wearing his mask. He enters Gunga Diner and puts syrup in a napkin, folding the napkin and taking it a part to make symmetrical splotches, while he stares at his maildrop (the trashcan).
He wakes at eleven because of shouting outside, and says he was disturbed to find he slept with his 'face' on, and that he should be more careful. He then memorized the boys that were defacing the abandoned building's descriptions. He takes off his face and said 'without my face, nobody knows. Nobody knows who I am.' He says the landlady complained about the hygiene and rent, and noted she had purple bite marks on her 'fat white neck.' He then says she reminds him of his mother. He noted that the graffiti on the building was a silhouette, 'man and woman, possibly indulging in sexual foreplay,' and that he didn't like it, claiming it makes the doorway look haunted. He sees Dreiberg and Juspeczyk and wonders if there is an affair, then suspects Laurie of engineering Dr. Manhattan's exile to make room for Dreiberg, noting she also hated the Comedian. He commented on the trash people 'deposited for him'; candy wrappers, newspapers, a pair of keds. animation
This city is an animal, fierce and complicated. To understand it I read its droppings, its scents, the movement of its parasites...I sat watching the trashcan, and New York opened its heart to me.
October 21st, 1985 (3)
"Someone tried to kill Veidt. Prove's Mask Killer theory. Murderer is closing in. Checked maildrop. Message from Moloch. Connected, perhaps? Next, went to retrieve face from allet. Outside Utopia, police restrained a youth on KT-28's. He was screaming something about bombs. Is everyone but me going mad? Over 40th Street, and elephant was drifting. Beyond that, unseen, spy satellites. If they so much as narrow their glass eyes, we shall all be dead. This relentless world: there is only one sane response to it. The alleyway was cold and deserted. My things were where I'd left them. Waiting for me. Putting them on, I abandoned my disguise and became myself, free from fear or weakness or lust. My coat, my shoes, my spotless gloves. My face. Had three hours before calling on Moloch. Away down alley, heard woman scream., first bubbling note of city's evening chorus. Approached disturbance. An attempted rape/mugging/both. Cleared throat. The man turned and there was something rewarding in his eyes. Sometimes, the night is generous to me."
—Third October 21st, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
His last entry in Chapter V takes place after news of Adrian Veidt being attacked was released. Rorschach lifts a note from his 'maildrop' from Moloch that says 'R- call tonight, 11:30 p.m. Have information. URGENT. Jacobi,' and then walked into an alleyway to grab his hat and mask that were beneath a Nostalgia poster before encountering a rapist in the act.
He recalls news of the attack on Veidt and sees it as proof of his 'mask killer' theory, then wondered again if Moloch was connected. Outside of Utopia he saw police restraining a youth on KT-28s, who was screaming something about President Nixon and bombs. He asks if everyone but him was going mad. Over 40th street he saw an elephant drifting and noted that beyond it, unseen, were spy satellites that could narrow their eyes and kill everyone. He writes about putting on his disguise and becoming himself, 'free from fear or weakness or lust.' He recalls hearing a woman scream, the 'first bubbling note of city's evening chorus.' He noted the disturbance an attempted rape, mugging or both. animation
The man turned and there was something rewarding in his eyes. Sometimes, the night is generous to me.
November 1st, 1985
"Final entry? Left Veidt's office just before Midnight. Dreiberg, convinced Veidt's behind everything, is serious about visiting Antarctica. Owlship capable, apparently, but are we? Veidt. Cannot imagine more dangerous opponent. Assuming journey possible, tracking him to his lair only option. Still feel uneasy. Unfamiliar territory. He could kill us both, there in the snow. Nobody would ever know...first night in November. I am cold tonight. Offices below, headstones marking daily graves of thousands. Inside, clock faces, as observed as those of celebrities, hands commence final laps. Oblivion gallops closer, favoring the spur, sparing the rein...I think we will be gone soon. Veidt is faster than Dreiberg. Perhaps faster than me. Return seems unlikely. This last entry. Will shortly mail to only people can trust. Tell Dreiberg I need to check my maildrop. He believes me. If reading this now, whether I am alive or dead, you will know truth. Whatever the precise nature of this conspiracy, Adrian Veidt responsible. Have done best to make this legible. Believe it paints a disturbing picture. Appreciate your recent support and hope world survives long enough for this to reach you. But tanks are in East Berlin and writing is on wall. For my own part, regret nothing. Have lived life, free from compromise...and step into the shadow now without complaint."
—November 1, 1985 entry of Rorschach's journal
This is Rorschach's last entry, from Chapter X: Two Riders Were Approaching, in the meantime Rorschach had been captured, blamed for Moloch's murder, broken out and killed The Big Figure, did questioning at Happy Harry's and discovered Adrian Veidt's involvement with Pyramid Deliveries.
'Final entry?' he asks, noting that Dreiberg's convinced that Veidt is behind everything and wants to visit Antarctica. He's not sure if they're ready, and can't imagine a more dangerous opponent. He shows his only admittance of physical weakness with that statement and then following with 'I am cold tonight.' Then claims Veidt may be faster than both of them, and foresees return from the mission as unlikely. He decides to mail his journal to the only people he can trust. He tells the reader directly that whether he is alive or dead, the truth is that Adrian Veidt is responsible. He says he hopes the journal will reach them (The New Frontiersman), but says 'tanks are in East Berlin, and the writing is on the wall.' He completes his journal quickly by adding that he regrets nothing, has lived his life free from compromise and steps 'into the shadow now without complaint.' animation
Oblivion gallops closer, favoring the spur, sparing the rein. I think we will be gone soon."
Journal Entries (DC Timeline)
July 1st, 1977
"I hate this place. Have since I was a child. My mother (may she rot in hell) called it the greatest city on Earth. One New Year's Eve she took me out on the fire escape and told me that I was lucky to live here. And that I owed her that. It was one of the few times she ever smiled at me. Then she was called back to bed, by one of my uncles. I stayed outside in my pajamas, holding onto the cold metal rail. The snow fell. My fingers turned blue, and my toes purple, then black, as the sun rose. She wasn't smiling in the emergency room. She was spitting. Cursing. Asking me why do you always have to ruin everything? What made you this way? I looked her in the eye, and said, 'You did.' You did. And do. All of you. Walking these streets, avoiding eye contact, heads down, in perfect pose for the blade of the executioner that stalks you. Well, he's just behind you. And crossing the street. And around every corner. You all fear me. But I am not him. No, I am the lonely man. who stalks the executioner. Dwayne Carter a piece of trash. He means nothing... The polluter though, the one who litters the street with him? He means to me."
—July 1st, 1977 entry of Rorschach's journal
July 6th, 1977
"I've spent days wading through garbage. Looking for shit. A prospector in hell, digging for the mother load. Tirelessly. Haven't slept. Can't afford to. This stream is mine. It will make me rich. Eureka. I've found it. The mother lode? Turned out to be fool's goal."
—July 6th, 1977 entry of Rorschach's journal
July 7th, 1977
"Times Square. Neon romanticizes its filth. Light of day makes its darkness worse. More brazen, arrogant. Hopeless. 'Look at me. You can't stop me.' Look at me. You can't see my face. Underestimated gang that tried to murder me. Boss called himself Crime. Goes by Rawhead. Real name unknown. Name doesn't matter. Only face does. All their smiling faces. Targets.
Undeniable fact everyone denies is that at its heart, the world is a cold place. It doesn't care whether you live or die, or how you live or how you die. To the world, you don't matter. You don't matter to the person sitting next to you. They won't give their life for you. They shouldn't. Accepting this truth was liberating. Gave me clarity. Gave me a mission. I understand there are two kinds of people in this world. Victims... and me."
—July 7th, 1977 entry of Rorschach's journal
July 10th, 1977
"Survived three days in Bellevue emergency room. This place is misery. Come here often. Reminds me I'm at war. Overcrowded, understaffed. Pick up some supplies. No one notices me. No one... ever.
City is rotting. Garbage and decay pile higher, becoming our homes. Monuments to the corruption of those in powerful positions. Citizens too distracted to notice this horror. Authorities benefits keeping us that way.
Case in point; the serial killer. The Bard. Named such to make him mythic. To make him feared. To control. People happy being controlled. Being dominated. Handing over the knife. The responsibility. But when it's used against them...
...Do they get what they deserve?"
—July 10th, 1977 entry of Rorschach's journal
July 11th, 1977
"News of the Bard's latest victim broke at 4:30, just in time for a late afternoon thunderstorm. Certain he took pleasure in the coincidence. His confidence must be high. Only explanation for another victim so soon Believes he can't be caught. Puts the city on edge. Had to be his intention. Razor no longer his only weapon. Playing the public's insecurities like a piano... Forcing anxiety to excruciating levels. No lead on Rawhead's location. No matter. Found whore. Put pimp in hospital last night. She working. Making money. Rawhead's money. As expected, greed got the better of him. Not expected, him being alone. Too easy. Thinks I'm a fool. Underestimates me. Arrogant fool.
Pushed to the edge. The city has quit. Paranoia will turn to panic or terror-induced immobilization. An opportunity to put my efficient process in motion."
—July 11th, 1977 entry of Rorschach's journal
July 11th, 1982
"Five years ago, today, the city showed it's true face. Ironic. Lights out exposed the pretense, grabbed society by the back of the neck and shoved its face in the mirror. Difficult circumstance, when own reflection not how you see yourself... But how you see others. When the lights came on the damned were quick to return to their routine of subtle stubbornness. Shuffling the streets on lead pegs, trying to forget. Fearing eye contact. The flash of recognition. 'You're just like me.' 'I know what you do in the dark.' Five years ago. The night of my last mistake... The Bard made his first. Despite having her throat slit, his victim survived. In the dark, acting out the open , Ronald James Randall got sloppy. Victim identified him. Regular customer at diner she was employed at. He was behind bars for nearly three years before he went to trial. Victim testified. Inept prosecution still botched case. Ronald James Randall was acquitted. By a jury of his peers. Typical. Society refuses to take necessary steps to save itself from itself. I know what he did in the dark. And I know where he lives. Victim's whereabouts unknown. That victim. Presumable, she left town to be a victim somewhere else. She and her scars. No escaping the naked truth when it's carved across your chest... 'You deserve me.'"
—July 11th, 1982 entry of Rorschach's journal
November 22nd (or 23rd) 1992
"Streets were littered with bodies, brains boiled over by grotesque nightmares of fictional invader clock started over we had a chance. But they blew it. All of them. The undeplorables scream to hear themselves, deafened in their echo chamber, blaming the other side for what they have instead of who they are. Their tolerance is a one-way street. While the totalitarians stand their ground, covering their eyes, preaching for a return to a rose colored republic. Unaware that for those not like them, the good old days weren't so good. Depends on your perspective. God turned his back, left paradise to us. Like handing a five-year-old a straight razor. We slit open the World's belly. Secrets came spilling out. An intestine full of truth and shit strangled us.
Soon the bugs will be all that's left. And the cockroaches will go to war with the maggots, fighting over the scraps of the moderates. Then they'll eat themselves and finally choke. Kicking and screaming. Because maybe we don't deserve it. Maybe the world should burn this time. We shattered the American Dream. This is the American Nightmare."
—November 22nd (or 23rd) entry of Rorschach's journal
The first entry in nine years, Rorschach II muses on how things have changed, and notes that Doctor Manhattan handed them paradise carelessly and they have now ruined it. He says that if they're going to save the world, they need to bring Doctor Manhattan back, but also conceding that "maybe the world should burn this time".
- Rorschach's journal within the narrative is explicitly titled "Rorshach's Journal: 1984-1985", which implies that he kept previous annual journals.