Disclaimer: TDK isn't mine. And the Joker doesn't belong to anyone.
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So there's this man. He paints on a happy face, wraps himself in purple and green, and steps outside to share his laughter with this shadowed city. Maybe you've seen him before. Although he's taller than he looks on television.
Now don't be frightened, but to tell you the truth, he's just a wee bit dangerous. He's no more a monster than you or I, but he does get a little excited sometimes. Using gleaming blades (all shapes, all sizes) and bright explosives, he carves and blasts his message on the city so everyone can see what he sees. Take a look, and try not to flinch. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all.
I guess he's a lot like a magician. Pulling the rabbit from the hat, making the dove disappear, concocting wine from water. He turns horror to ecstasy, and the world is so beautifully hideous. He's giving you a gift, understand?
He offers fire and smoke and blood and a thousand parables of the faceted beast of mankind. Wanna know how he got those scars? Let him tell you a tale.
He chews on his words and drops them from between sliced lips. Listen carefully. What he says is not exactly the truth. No, it's better than that. He's going to introduce you to yourself.
And the moral of that story? Well, isn't it obvious ladies and gentlemen? It's as plain as the smile on his face. I know, I know. It's just on the tippity tip of your tongue. Let me offer a suggestion—go look in the mirror.
Still don't get it? I'll whisper you a little hint:
You only think that's your face.