Superman: My wife isn’t very happy with you.
Innocent Dilemma: And why’s that?
S: I don’t know if you remember it, but a while back, you chided me about my lack of charity work.
ID: So that’s why you cancelled our usual session?
S: No… though I suppose the two are related. I’ve been working a lot on promoting Wonder Woman Day. It was founded in part by Diana and some charitable minded folks to promote awareness of women’s issues and raise money for domestic violence centers and hotlines. My wife says I’ve been overworking myself. I cancelled our usual taping because I… I couldn’t get out of bed. I think- I’ve told Lois- it’s just fatigue flitting between Portland, Oregon and Flemington, New Jersey- which is at least close to home here in Metropolis.
ID: Okay, so you’ve told your wife it’s fatigue, but is it- do you honestly believe that’s what it is?
S: I don’t know. It’s all… experimental, really. Kryptonians on my planet were actually analogous to humans on this one- so there’s nothing on record like this. Maybe I had a bad day. Maybe I was just, depressive isn’t really the right word but there’s a, a weight to mortality- and I mean imminent, inescapable mortality. There’s an animal thing squirming inside you that does not want to go yet. And it can be exhausting. So, I think fatigue is probably right, though I think my wife had the cause, and more specifically the culprit, wrong.
But I’d sort of like to hijack the conversation. You know, I’ve only got so many words left, and I’d, I’d like them not to all be expended on navel-gazing; I’d like them to matter as much as they can.
So Wonder Woman Day. It hasn’t, uh, taken on the following yet that I might have liked, or that I think befits a person of Diana’s stature, frankly, but it does a lot of good. One of the main fundraisers is an art auction. The pieces are being shown at the Lara Sydney Framing Gallery, 1230 NW Hoyt St., Portland, Oregon until the 24th, and they’re being auctioned online at wonderwomanmuseum.com. If you want to help a good cause and get some original artwork, go there.
ID: Hmm… even though it’s for a good cause, I can’t help but feel like a shill.
S: You started this.
ID: Fair enough. But physically there isn’t a Wonder Woman museum, right?
S: Not yet.
ID: But that reminds me of something I’d wanted to talk about: the Super Museum. In Metropolis, Illinois. Located in Superman Square.
S: Yes.
ID: And I assume you’ve met the curator.
S: Yep.
ID: And how did he strike you?
S: As an ardent and particularly devoted fan.
ID: To be clear, you didn’t mean peculiarly devoted fan?
S: He’s a fan. Perhaps sometimes bordering on fanatical, but that’s where the word comes from. Honestly, to me he’s never been anything but kind, humble and genuine.
ID: So you’re saying you’ve had worse fans, then. Care to talk bad about them behind their backs?
S: I swear sometimes you’re a five year old scientifically aged by Lex Luthor to make me hate humanity.
ID: That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me. Ooh, they’ve got a George Reeves dummy dressed as you- but it looks like Richard Nixon out trick-or-treating.
S: Just had to get in the holiday reference?
ID: Hey, if you can shill for a good cause, I can shill for hits- which consequently gets your good cause more word-of-mouth.
S: Fair enough.
ID: So, for the record, do you think you’re going to be able to keep up with our regular taping schedules?
S: I don’t know. I- I hope so. I know I’m going to try.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Tuesday. Some of the questions have already been prepared by the interviewer, but to ask Superman a question, leave a comment or send an email to DeathofSuperman@gmail.com.
Showing posts with label charity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label charity. Show all posts
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Cancer Benefits
Indecent Dancing: Patrick Swayze’s dead.
Superman: I heard that. Um, my condolences to his family, friends, anyone hurt by his death.
ID: Of course. But does that scare you? Patrick Swayze, dead at 57. Of cancer- pancreatic, specifically.
S: I don’t know if I’m as, um, impressed by celebrity as you are. I guess as someone who has at least occasionally been lumped into the idea of celebrity, it doesn’t hold the same kind of mystique for me. There are thousands of cancer deaths a day; an American dies from cancer every minute. Ironically, I’ll be at my most ordinary- my most human- in dying, just another statistic.
ID: Hmm. So you don’t get an odd sense that you’re in a pond, and there’s ripples, and suddenly the ripples- his death- show you how very small and shallow that pond has always been?
S: I may not be articulating it well; I don’t mean to say his death doesn’t effect me, because it does. But every cancer death effects me, now hits close to home. I feel, and I think I’m quoting or paraphrasing here, “the icy breath of death at the nape of my neck” each time. But I remember watching him on Stand Up To Cancer last year, and one thing he said really did touch me, he said, “I’m just an individual living with cancer.” And I think that’s good- I think all of us that are dealing with this disease, we’re all just people. But I think his appearance at Stand Up To Cancer said something else, too, that we’re all of us just people, but that together, as a united humanity, maybe we’re more.
ID: Brings up a pointed, and probably loaded, question, though, doesn’t it. What have you done about cancer?
S: I suppose the honest answer to that is not enough. I think I spent a lot of time in denial, hoping that I could wait it out, that it wouldn’t be true forever, so if I could just hold out. But really anything I say would be an excuse. I’ve been selfish. I’ve spent time getting my affairs in order, talking to the people who are closer to me- trying to keep my day to day the same, so it doesn’t hurt the people around me.
ID: I don’t know if I’d exactly call it selfish. Those are all important things, too. And I don’t doubt that Patrick Swayze did all of those things; I mean, he still went to the trouble of completing his commitment on The Beast, for God’s sake. I don’t want it to get lost here, that I’m not condemning that side of your struggle with cancer, but I’m asking, as someone who has personally lost people to the disease, how have you, or maybe a better phrasing would be, how might you, use your elevated profile?
S: I’m not really one for speeches. And I’ve gone most of my life trying not to be recognized for who and what I am- for my circumstances, whether tragic or beneficial- but for what I do. But in this, I think you’re right, I’ve been lacking. For starters, if they want me for Stand Up ’09, I’ll be there, even if Lois has to wheel me in in a chair.
ID: You’re being hyperbolic about that, though, right? You’re not to the point where
S: No- not yet, at least. But I’ve been feeling weaker, lately. And sometimes it really can hurt to walk. It’s actually a funny thing; outwardly, I’m still strong enough to fall off The Planet building without it hurting too much, but inwardly, so many things that didn’t used to- that really shouldn’t- hurt do now.
ID: You’re not playing the pity card on me, are you?
S: Of course not. Over these interviews I’ve learned a lot about you- and pity, sympathy and whoever-forbid empathy… not exactly strengths of yours.
ID: You wound me, or you would, if it weren’t for your facetious tone, but you have a point. I play devil’s advocate a lot. I’ll be as liberal or conservative as it takes to get an interesting answer. But my heart bleeds nearly as much as Oliver Queen’s- though I don’t think I’ll ever have it in me to be as much of an ass about it as him.
S: Strong words, knowing he could split a hair at a hundred yards with his bow.
ID: Come on. It’s impossible for him not to know he’s an ass… right?
S: Actually I think Ollie’s blissfully unaware- but you’re not giving yourself due credit- I think you have it in you to be twice the ass he can be.
ID: Thanks.
S: Don’t mention it. But I think that can be an important skill for a reporter. Sometimes being nice means not telling people the truth, and a reporter’s job, inherently, is to tell people things they don’t want to hear. I think it’s good to hear from someone that you’ve been a jerk about something- it’s really the only way you know that you need to correct something- presuming if you’d known you were wrong in the first place you’d have never committed the error to begin with.
So I guess I’m saying thanks.
ID: For being an asshole. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it. On that note, in the future, given our conversation or any other factors, do you see your focus changing from tights-wearer extraordinaire to a spokesperson?
S: I don’t know. It’s certainly not something I’d have ever really thought about on my own. But now that you’ve planted that seed in my head… I think I’ll have to do something. I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself, for however long I may have left, if I didn’t.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Tuesday. Some of the questions have already been prepared by the interviewer, but to ask Superman a question, leave a comment or send an email to DeathofSuperman@gmail.com.
Superman: I heard that. Um, my condolences to his family, friends, anyone hurt by his death.
ID: Of course. But does that scare you? Patrick Swayze, dead at 57. Of cancer- pancreatic, specifically.
S: I don’t know if I’m as, um, impressed by celebrity as you are. I guess as someone who has at least occasionally been lumped into the idea of celebrity, it doesn’t hold the same kind of mystique for me. There are thousands of cancer deaths a day; an American dies from cancer every minute. Ironically, I’ll be at my most ordinary- my most human- in dying, just another statistic.
ID: Hmm. So you don’t get an odd sense that you’re in a pond, and there’s ripples, and suddenly the ripples- his death- show you how very small and shallow that pond has always been?
S: I may not be articulating it well; I don’t mean to say his death doesn’t effect me, because it does. But every cancer death effects me, now hits close to home. I feel, and I think I’m quoting or paraphrasing here, “the icy breath of death at the nape of my neck” each time. But I remember watching him on Stand Up To Cancer last year, and one thing he said really did touch me, he said, “I’m just an individual living with cancer.” And I think that’s good- I think all of us that are dealing with this disease, we’re all just people. But I think his appearance at Stand Up To Cancer said something else, too, that we’re all of us just people, but that together, as a united humanity, maybe we’re more.
ID: Brings up a pointed, and probably loaded, question, though, doesn’t it. What have you done about cancer?
S: I suppose the honest answer to that is not enough. I think I spent a lot of time in denial, hoping that I could wait it out, that it wouldn’t be true forever, so if I could just hold out. But really anything I say would be an excuse. I’ve been selfish. I’ve spent time getting my affairs in order, talking to the people who are closer to me- trying to keep my day to day the same, so it doesn’t hurt the people around me.
ID: I don’t know if I’d exactly call it selfish. Those are all important things, too. And I don’t doubt that Patrick Swayze did all of those things; I mean, he still went to the trouble of completing his commitment on The Beast, for God’s sake. I don’t want it to get lost here, that I’m not condemning that side of your struggle with cancer, but I’m asking, as someone who has personally lost people to the disease, how have you, or maybe a better phrasing would be, how might you, use your elevated profile?
S: I’m not really one for speeches. And I’ve gone most of my life trying not to be recognized for who and what I am- for my circumstances, whether tragic or beneficial- but for what I do. But in this, I think you’re right, I’ve been lacking. For starters, if they want me for Stand Up ’09, I’ll be there, even if Lois has to wheel me in in a chair.
ID: You’re being hyperbolic about that, though, right? You’re not to the point where
S: No- not yet, at least. But I’ve been feeling weaker, lately. And sometimes it really can hurt to walk. It’s actually a funny thing; outwardly, I’m still strong enough to fall off The Planet building without it hurting too much, but inwardly, so many things that didn’t used to- that really shouldn’t- hurt do now.
ID: You’re not playing the pity card on me, are you?
S: Of course not. Over these interviews I’ve learned a lot about you- and pity, sympathy and whoever-forbid empathy… not exactly strengths of yours.
ID: You wound me, or you would, if it weren’t for your facetious tone, but you have a point. I play devil’s advocate a lot. I’ll be as liberal or conservative as it takes to get an interesting answer. But my heart bleeds nearly as much as Oliver Queen’s- though I don’t think I’ll ever have it in me to be as much of an ass about it as him.
S: Strong words, knowing he could split a hair at a hundred yards with his bow.
ID: Come on. It’s impossible for him not to know he’s an ass… right?
S: Actually I think Ollie’s blissfully unaware- but you’re not giving yourself due credit- I think you have it in you to be twice the ass he can be.
ID: Thanks.
S: Don’t mention it. But I think that can be an important skill for a reporter. Sometimes being nice means not telling people the truth, and a reporter’s job, inherently, is to tell people things they don’t want to hear. I think it’s good to hear from someone that you’ve been a jerk about something- it’s really the only way you know that you need to correct something- presuming if you’d known you were wrong in the first place you’d have never committed the error to begin with.
So I guess I’m saying thanks.
ID: For being an asshole. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it. On that note, in the future, given our conversation or any other factors, do you see your focus changing from tights-wearer extraordinaire to a spokesperson?
S: I don’t know. It’s certainly not something I’d have ever really thought about on my own. But now that you’ve planted that seed in my head… I think I’ll have to do something. I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself, for however long I may have left, if I didn’t.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Tuesday. Some of the questions have already been prepared by the interviewer, but to ask Superman a question, leave a comment or send an email to DeathofSuperman@gmail.com.
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