Superman: I want you to know I was affected by what you said a few weeks ago- the implication that I’d been spending more time away from people. I guess it was something I was doing, and and was conscious I was doing, but that I hadn’t really acknowledged. Anyway, there was a car accident a mile from my apartment; I heard the horrible crunch of metal, and I listened, and could hear a slow, depressed heartbeat.
Now, when I want to, I can move at such a speed that I’m little more than a blue and red blur, but what you’d said- I grabbed the man, an older gentleman, probably in his sixties, and took him to the hospital, left a note on his chest describing the scene of the accident for them- but then I rushed back to the scene, and did something I hadn’t done in a while: I stood there. Not moving, not flying, but I stood there, and I asked, “Is everyone else all right?”
And there was just shocked, stunned silence; I caught myself wondering if my fly was down or something
ID: And you might have even checked- though at such a speed that the world would never know.
S: Right. But the man the other driver hit, a cab driver, he put his hand on my shoulder, and that was when I looked in his eyes, and they were full of tears as he said, “Oh, Superman.” And looking around at the crowd, they were teary eyed, too, and I probably would have burst into tears right then, but the cabby took me into this big bear hug- I think any other time I would have resisted, just naturally, and I wasn’t physically weak enough that I couldn’t have, but emotionally, there was just no way I could have or would have even wanted to resist it.
After a moment, I summoned all the strength I had left in me, and I asked the crowd again, all without the cabby letting go of me, “Is everyone here all right?”
He pulled away from me, and his whiskers scraped against my neck, and I smelled his aftershave and I realized he’d left tears streaked across my shoulder, and none of that mattered at all when he said, “We will be when you are.”
“Thank you,” I told him as he let me go.
“No, man. Thank you.” I lifted off the ground, then; I didn’t try to hide that it was harder than it used to be, didn’t kick off the ground or try to put out an initial burst of speed to cover up that I’ve gotten slower. There was something… really humanizing in being able to admit that I’m sick, that it’s affecting me. And of course, being able to be that open, that vulnerable, with people, obviously, that’s affected me, too.
I guess… I’d just figured people might be sad, but that it was mostly going to hit them when bad things happened, and I wasn’t there to respond when they cried, “Save me, Superman.” I didn’t think, I just wasn’t prepared for the reality that they
ID: Might simply cry?
S: Yeah.
ID: And how’s that make you feel?
S: In a way, it makes me feel better. Everyone feels… disconnected from people sometimes; I think maybe I’ve felt it more acutely, being a small-town alien in a big city- but everyone gets lonesome, questions their own worth
ID: Even Superman?
S: Hmm. I don’t think I’ve ever questioned the worth and the value of Superman, but Clark Kent, Kal El- I think I’ve often felt that those two people were often at odds with the good I can and should be doing as Superman. So their worth, I’ve never been certain of, but that man wasn’t just hugging the man in the suit; it’s hard to explain, but going out there like I am, I wasn’t only Superman anymore.
I wasn’t the ideal, virile, muscular farm boy with a college education and chiseled jaw, I was frail, I was weak- I’ve never felt more mortal. And when that man hugged me, it wasn’t just the suit, it was the man beneath it. It really, I think it really helped me feel something I’ve known for a long time, that Clark and Superman are the same, a slight hair tousling, some glasses and a few mannerisms to the side. In that sense, feeling connected, feeling appreciated- feeling loved, that makes me feel better than I ever have.
But it also makes the list of people I’m letting down, the list of people who are going to have a harder time of things without me, that much longer. I hate disappointing people.
ID: Do you honestly think you could be disappointing people?
S: I- I wanted to say yes, but the way you ask that question, I don’t know. I hope not.
ID: For my money, no. You’ve been facing this with the same grace and dignity you’ve always shown. If we lose you to cancer, we won’t be disappointed in you, but in a world foolish enough to take you.
S: Well thank you.
ID: No, Clark, thank you.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Kryptonite
Igneous Dereliction: I have to ask. You’ve sort of made the assumption that your cancer is a result of exposure to sunlight, but I wonder if you have considered something: what if it’s been caused by kryptonite radiation?
Superman: The thought’s crossed my mind. Especially because Lex- well, he was riddled with cancer, and certainly would have died if he hadn’t transferred his body into his own clone- so there’s certainly a precedent.
ID: But
S: But I tend to reject that- I try to reject it. Because it’s a painful thing to admit if it’s true. On the one hand you have the fact that while I narrowly avoided the destruction of Krypton, it’s violent end seems to have managed to finish me anyway- almost painfully poetic. On the other, and, really, more terrible side, you have the fact that, if it’s even remotely true, Lex Luthor managed to play a role, however small it may have been, in my death. And I don’t like that idea. Even if kryptonite had the carcinogenic effects of a packet of Sweet’n Low- him taking any credit for my death is too much. In actual medical fact, it’s likely a combination of the two, added to all of the other various radiations and rays and, God, I’ve been exposed to all manner of things over the years. I suppose I should be grateful I haven’t been sprouting any extra eyes, through the years, or been rendered impotent.
ID: Uh
S: That is not an invitation to probe that subject deeper.
ID: Okay, but I'd like to probe your relationship with Lex Luthor, if we could. The two of you have known each other a long time- LuthorCorp's regional headquarters is in the same county where you grew up. If you can believe the WB show, you were actually friendly growing up.
S: The show's a bit more Dawson's Creek than my adolescence was, but yes, Lex and I knew each other, once upon a time.
ID: I wish he was in the room, because I'd love to ask him what you were like as a teenager, too, but what was he like?
S: Lex was Lex. A lot of his insecurities and frustrations were still only boiling at that point- rather than boiling over- but he was still brilliant- still self-absorbed, still ambitious and perhaps a little unbalanced. But he was nicer, then. He cared about people; I think, probably somewhere, deep down, he still does, but on his agenda anymore they rank so low as to be considered just pieces in a chess game, worth his consideration only so long as they retain some value to him.
ID: You have a grudging respect and disappointment for Lex, and some editorialists, perhaps sponsored by Luthor, have theorized that it's out of intimidation for Lex's mind. But I've also heard, mostly in gossip, but still, I've heard it often enough and from enough sources to know that you dabble in science, and not just human sciences, but with some of the Martian and Kryptonian tech you have access to. These same rumors say that you're brilliant in your own right, without ever going so far as to quantify. So just how smart are you?
S: Seriously? I've never taken an IQ test, or anything similar, but I've tried my hand at some quantum physics, but frankly my schedule rarely stays clear long enough for me to delve too deeply into intellectual pursuits.
ID: Okay, what about sudden world harmony. Maybe John Henry Irons figures out how to replicate Green Lantern technology across the world, eliminating all resource-related problems; virtually all globaly conflict dies, as no nation is capable of eliminating any other (or any of its own minorities). Basically, you and every other superhuman gets to retire. Do you see yourself retiring to your Fortress of Solitude to finish important scientific things?
S: I don't know. I think, because I didn't find out about my heritage until I was older, that I didn't get into science in the same way as I might have. And by then, I'd really gotten obsessed with watching humanity, and watching over them.
I guess I'm enough of my father's son that I've always wanted to try. I really was blessed with my Kryptonian father's mind, at least in general, and I think I have an innate analytical skill that I certainly never honed.
But it's always been an itch, like a person who picks up a guitar and finds out they have a talent for it, but never learns to play. It was sort of what I assumed I'd get up to in my twilight years, when my hair started to gray in a distinguished fashion at my temples.
ID: But now that doesn't seem like an option anymore.
S: No, it doesn't. But I have trouble giving up hope- even if it's fool's hope. I can't help, even when we talk about my death, even when I wake up aching, that in a year's time I'll be reading this interview with a smile on my face at how naïve and premature our predictions of doom had been. And I think, given time, science or whatever would catch up to me, and the chances of my dying would decrease substantially- but of course, time is the one thing I may not have. And maybe that's it- maybe time is my kryptonite, now.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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: The thought’s crossed my mind. Especially because Lex- well, he was riddled with cancer, and certainly would have died if he hadn’t transferred his body into his own clone- so there’s certainly a precedent.
ID: But
S: But I tend to reject that- I try to reject it. Because it’s a painful thing to admit if it’s true. On the one hand you have the fact that while I narrowly avoided the destruction of Krypton, it’s violent end seems to have managed to finish me anyway- almost painfully poetic. On the other, and, really, more terrible side, you have the fact that, if it’s even remotely true, Lex Luthor managed to play a role, however small it may have been, in my death. And I don’t like that idea. Even if kryptonite had the carcinogenic effects of a packet of Sweet’n Low- him taking any credit for my death is too much. In actual medical fact, it’s likely a combination of the two, added to all of the other various radiations and rays and, God, I’ve been exposed to all manner of things over the years. I suppose I should be grateful I haven’t been sprouting any extra eyes, through the years, or been rendered impotent.
ID: Uh
S: That is not an invitation to probe that subject deeper.
ID: Okay, but I'd like to probe your relationship with Lex Luthor, if we could. The two of you have known each other a long time- LuthorCorp's regional headquarters is in the same county where you grew up. If you can believe the WB show, you were actually friendly growing up.
S: The show's a bit more Dawson's Creek than my adolescence was, but yes, Lex and I knew each other, once upon a time.
ID: I wish he was in the room, because I'd love to ask him what you were like as a teenager, too, but what was he like?
S: Lex was Lex. A lot of his insecurities and frustrations were still only boiling at that point- rather than boiling over- but he was still brilliant- still self-absorbed, still ambitious and perhaps a little unbalanced. But he was nicer, then. He cared about people; I think, probably somewhere, deep down, he still does, but on his agenda anymore they rank so low as to be considered just pieces in a chess game, worth his consideration only so long as they retain some value to him.
ID: You have a grudging respect and disappointment for Lex, and some editorialists, perhaps sponsored by Luthor, have theorized that it's out of intimidation for Lex's mind. But I've also heard, mostly in gossip, but still, I've heard it often enough and from enough sources to know that you dabble in science, and not just human sciences, but with some of the Martian and Kryptonian tech you have access to. These same rumors say that you're brilliant in your own right, without ever going so far as to quantify. So just how smart are you?
S: Seriously? I've never taken an IQ test, or anything similar, but I've tried my hand at some quantum physics, but frankly my schedule rarely stays clear long enough for me to delve too deeply into intellectual pursuits.
ID: Okay, what about sudden world harmony. Maybe John Henry Irons figures out how to replicate Green Lantern technology across the world, eliminating all resource-related problems; virtually all globaly conflict dies, as no nation is capable of eliminating any other (or any of its own minorities). Basically, you and every other superhuman gets to retire. Do you see yourself retiring to your Fortress of Solitude to finish important scientific things?
S: I don't know. I think, because I didn't find out about my heritage until I was older, that I didn't get into science in the same way as I might have. And by then, I'd really gotten obsessed with watching humanity, and watching over them.
I guess I'm enough of my father's son that I've always wanted to try. I really was blessed with my Kryptonian father's mind, at least in general, and I think I have an innate analytical skill that I certainly never honed.
But it's always been an itch, like a person who picks up a guitar and finds out they have a talent for it, but never learns to play. It was sort of what I assumed I'd get up to in my twilight years, when my hair started to gray in a distinguished fashion at my temples.
ID: But now that doesn't seem like an option anymore.
S: No, it doesn't. But I have trouble giving up hope- even if it's fool's hope. I can't help, even when we talk about my death, even when I wake up aching, that in a year's time I'll be reading this interview with a smile on my face at how naïve and premature our predictions of doom had been. And I think, given time, science or whatever would catch up to me, and the chances of my dying would decrease substantially- but of course, time is the one thing I may not have. And maybe that's it- maybe time is my kryptonite, now.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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.
Monday, June 1, 2009
The C Word
Independent Domicile: I want to say, before we begin, because this interview's only being recorded and transcribed- that is to say there's no audio- and I know you've been staying away from the public eye as much as you can, but since we started the interview you've lost forty pounds. Your skin is pale, clothes fit loosely.
Superman: Well, for the sake of parity, I want to state you look like crap, too.
(laughs, breaks into a fit of coughing)
ID: How are you doing, really?
S: The days are harder. And I think it's all really sunk in. I've been living with the reality of my own mortality for a while now, but it's really starting to feel real now. I guess, I guess I got cocky. You know, I've been in so many strange places, been confronted with so many weird threats, there was a part of me that believed that God, the universe, whatever, had some kind of plan for me, that I was invulnerable until I'd done that one great thing that I'd been shot across space in a rocket to do. And I don't think I've done it yet; there's no sense of closure to my life, no finality to it yet.
You know, fighting Doomsday, there was something epic about that. It had grandeur, and spectacle; I could see paintings of that immortalized in the Smithsonian and the Louvre, and while the idea makes me blush a little, stopping him, stopping murder incarnate, that felt like something purposeful. When Lois held me in her arms, and I wasn't even aware enough or strong enough anymore to see, but I knew she was holding me in her arms, and I felt that maybe that was that, that I'd fulfilled my purpose, that what I'd accomplished was something really good and truly great, and that I could pass on from that point and be peaceful. And nothing since has had that kind of closure for me.
ID: So do you think there's something to that? I mean, and I don't know where I read it, so maybe it's just a gossip-column thing, but your father had a heart attack around that time, and went and found you in some kind of an afterlife and convinced you to come back. Do you think that, maybe, that was a mistake, that you were supposed to stay dead after that?
S: It's a thought, isn't it? But honestly, no. I don't think that's true because I was supposed to marry Lois. As sure as I know anything, I know that, and to do that, I had to come back after Doomsday.
ID: So what about that, then, marrying Lois? Isn't that closure enough for you?
S: I don't know. I remember the first time I found out my cells had stopped aging. It was at S.T.A.R. Labs, and they told me that, functionally, I hadn't aged for several years, and in fact it appeared like the aging process had partially reversed, so age-related damage that they had previously recorded had healed. And there was a kind of a quiet pause, before the head scientist, whose name escapes me at the moment, um, and I apologize for that, I'm sure it'll come to me, but I know it wasn't Emil Hamilton- he was on the team, but I remember he was preoccupied with Kara at the time- anyway, the lead scientist told me, “we don't know if you'll ever age another day again.”
And Lois actually got really upset; she turned to me, tears in her eyes already, and I excused us quickly before flying us out of the conference room. By the time we touched down in the arctic, she had regained her composure, but she explained, very carefully, why that upset her.
She said she'd always assumed I'd outlive her, that stress or cancer from her mother's side, or a building falling on her or even her own propensity for eating out of The Planet's vending machines would kill her, but the thought that she was just a blip on my radar, just the first ring on a tree that might never stop growing, that her part in my life was going to end up so trivial- it nearly broke her heart. And I told her the first thing that came to my mind, because even though I think faster than a computer she can always tell when I hesitate: that I couldn't imagine outliving her, because I was fairly certain that her dying would kill me. She hasn't had a problem with it since.
But I don't think the reverse is true; I don't think my death will kill her- and not simply because she's had to live through that once already, but because as much as I know she loves me, Lois doesn't need me the way I need her. She loves me, she cares for me and about me, and hard as it is to believe she genuinely likes having me around all the time- but she doesn't need me. There have been times when I've wondered if she wouldn't have been a better reporter, maybe a better person, if it weren't for me. And maybe that's one thing I wish I could hold on to see, the person my wife becomes without me.
ID: Okay. But closure. I know you'll never be happy with the thought of leaving Lois behind- that with her you'll always want one more day, but acknowledging your impending mortality, do you think it's even reasonable to seek closure at this point?
S: Hmm. I don't know. I just hate leaving business unfinished. Take the League- I think the League's in transition now. With all humility, I've been sort of a go-to for a lot of issues, and now that that resource is being taken away, there's been a bit of a scramble to figure out how things work when you can't just fling a Kryptonian at it.
ID: What about Kara?
S: Kara isn't me. There are a lot of things that, physically, she can handle, but there are a lot of other things, having to do with maturity, and experience, or even just rapport that I have, with a lot of world leaders, a lot of communities across the globe- I've been at this a fairly long time, and I've met a lot of people, made a lot of friends. That's something the League is learning to work around, now. And the same goes to an extent for physical threats. I mean, Kara can hold her own, but she hasn't been under a yellow sun for nearly the same amount of time as I have- there was more than one time where I was the weapon of first and last resort- because if I couldn't stop it there was no one else who could, and that's something the League is I think reeling from.
And I'm still healthy enough at the moment to contribute, so don't think I'm down or out. But I've been taking a backseat, trying to let others do things I might have done myself in the past. One person who's really stepped up of course has been Diana. Bruce and I have such conflicting styles of management, and such strong personalities, that people often saw us fight. It made people think we were in charge, that we were the ones running the League. But, and I think Bruce would agree with me, the League lives and dies on two people's shoulders- and that's Diana's and J'onn's. Diana has a quiet authority- like what Bruce always wants, but gets irritated about when you don't read his mind and do what he wants, so he goes with gruff schoolteacher. But Diana and J'onn are the people who soothe bruised egos, who make the calls afterward to make sure follow-up assistance is there if it's necessary, who make sure we haven't accidentally caused India to invade Pakistan, or make sure monitor duty's filled. But what I'm getting at is the League is maturing, I think, into a group that will function rather well in a world without me- and I'd like to live long enough to see that, too.
ID: So what it sounds like is you've made your peace with dying- you'd just like to stay after it happens.
S: Yeah, something like that. You think we could swing it?
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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: Well, for the sake of parity, I want to state you look like crap, too.
(laughs, breaks into a fit of coughing)
ID: How are you doing, really?
S: The days are harder. And I think it's all really sunk in. I've been living with the reality of my own mortality for a while now, but it's really starting to feel real now. I guess, I guess I got cocky. You know, I've been in so many strange places, been confronted with so many weird threats, there was a part of me that believed that God, the universe, whatever, had some kind of plan for me, that I was invulnerable until I'd done that one great thing that I'd been shot across space in a rocket to do. And I don't think I've done it yet; there's no sense of closure to my life, no finality to it yet.
You know, fighting Doomsday, there was something epic about that. It had grandeur, and spectacle; I could see paintings of that immortalized in the Smithsonian and the Louvre, and while the idea makes me blush a little, stopping him, stopping murder incarnate, that felt like something purposeful. When Lois held me in her arms, and I wasn't even aware enough or strong enough anymore to see, but I knew she was holding me in her arms, and I felt that maybe that was that, that I'd fulfilled my purpose, that what I'd accomplished was something really good and truly great, and that I could pass on from that point and be peaceful. And nothing since has had that kind of closure for me.
ID: So do you think there's something to that? I mean, and I don't know where I read it, so maybe it's just a gossip-column thing, but your father had a heart attack around that time, and went and found you in some kind of an afterlife and convinced you to come back. Do you think that, maybe, that was a mistake, that you were supposed to stay dead after that?
S: It's a thought, isn't it? But honestly, no. I don't think that's true because I was supposed to marry Lois. As sure as I know anything, I know that, and to do that, I had to come back after Doomsday.
ID: So what about that, then, marrying Lois? Isn't that closure enough for you?
S: I don't know. I remember the first time I found out my cells had stopped aging. It was at S.T.A.R. Labs, and they told me that, functionally, I hadn't aged for several years, and in fact it appeared like the aging process had partially reversed, so age-related damage that they had previously recorded had healed. And there was a kind of a quiet pause, before the head scientist, whose name escapes me at the moment, um, and I apologize for that, I'm sure it'll come to me, but I know it wasn't Emil Hamilton- he was on the team, but I remember he was preoccupied with Kara at the time- anyway, the lead scientist told me, “we don't know if you'll ever age another day again.”
And Lois actually got really upset; she turned to me, tears in her eyes already, and I excused us quickly before flying us out of the conference room. By the time we touched down in the arctic, she had regained her composure, but she explained, very carefully, why that upset her.
She said she'd always assumed I'd outlive her, that stress or cancer from her mother's side, or a building falling on her or even her own propensity for eating out of The Planet's vending machines would kill her, but the thought that she was just a blip on my radar, just the first ring on a tree that might never stop growing, that her part in my life was going to end up so trivial- it nearly broke her heart. And I told her the first thing that came to my mind, because even though I think faster than a computer she can always tell when I hesitate: that I couldn't imagine outliving her, because I was fairly certain that her dying would kill me. She hasn't had a problem with it since.
But I don't think the reverse is true; I don't think my death will kill her- and not simply because she's had to live through that once already, but because as much as I know she loves me, Lois doesn't need me the way I need her. She loves me, she cares for me and about me, and hard as it is to believe she genuinely likes having me around all the time- but she doesn't need me. There have been times when I've wondered if she wouldn't have been a better reporter, maybe a better person, if it weren't for me. And maybe that's one thing I wish I could hold on to see, the person my wife becomes without me.
ID: Okay. But closure. I know you'll never be happy with the thought of leaving Lois behind- that with her you'll always want one more day, but acknowledging your impending mortality, do you think it's even reasonable to seek closure at this point?
S: Hmm. I don't know. I just hate leaving business unfinished. Take the League- I think the League's in transition now. With all humility, I've been sort of a go-to for a lot of issues, and now that that resource is being taken away, there's been a bit of a scramble to figure out how things work when you can't just fling a Kryptonian at it.
ID: What about Kara?
S: Kara isn't me. There are a lot of things that, physically, she can handle, but there are a lot of other things, having to do with maturity, and experience, or even just rapport that I have, with a lot of world leaders, a lot of communities across the globe- I've been at this a fairly long time, and I've met a lot of people, made a lot of friends. That's something the League is learning to work around, now. And the same goes to an extent for physical threats. I mean, Kara can hold her own, but she hasn't been under a yellow sun for nearly the same amount of time as I have- there was more than one time where I was the weapon of first and last resort- because if I couldn't stop it there was no one else who could, and that's something the League is I think reeling from.
And I'm still healthy enough at the moment to contribute, so don't think I'm down or out. But I've been taking a backseat, trying to let others do things I might have done myself in the past. One person who's really stepped up of course has been Diana. Bruce and I have such conflicting styles of management, and such strong personalities, that people often saw us fight. It made people think we were in charge, that we were the ones running the League. But, and I think Bruce would agree with me, the League lives and dies on two people's shoulders- and that's Diana's and J'onn's. Diana has a quiet authority- like what Bruce always wants, but gets irritated about when you don't read his mind and do what he wants, so he goes with gruff schoolteacher. But Diana and J'onn are the people who soothe bruised egos, who make the calls afterward to make sure follow-up assistance is there if it's necessary, who make sure we haven't accidentally caused India to invade Pakistan, or make sure monitor duty's filled. But what I'm getting at is the League is maturing, I think, into a group that will function rather well in a world without me- and I'd like to live long enough to see that, too.
ID: So what it sounds like is you've made your peace with dying- you'd just like to stay after it happens.
S: Yeah, something like that. You think we could swing it?
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Source
Imbecilic Desires: Now, at the conclusion of our discussion last week, you referred to the soul of America. And I know how much you hate discussing your politics, but how religious are you?
Superman: My parents were pretty religious, my mom in particular, and they raised me in a good Christian tradition. While there are still definitely aspects of that upbringing in my moral universe, I think it would be limiting to say my worldview is entirely Christian.
ID: What happened?
S: In part, I learned I was an alien. Christianity doesn't specifically deny the existence of extraterrestrials, but it also makes no place for them, either. And I've seen other worlds, thousands of other species, comprising probably a hundred billion other life forms. And each and every one of them has their own unique religious practices. Including Krypton.
But I remember the first time I actually doubted Christianity. One of the boys in my Sunday School class, and I wouldn’t have even been a teenager yet, I don’t think, and he was maybe a year or two older, but he asked about people in Asia, and Africa, who maybe weren’t given the chance to join the Christian church. Our teacher told us, in a nut shell, that everyone got at least one chance to accept God, even if only in a single moment.
And my problem with that answer is it isn’t fair. Here I was, fairly steeped in this “chosen” religion, when there were people, not just in Asia and Africa, but so many others, like pre-Christians who weren’t Jewish who, regardless of their moral caliber or location, were being given only a fleeting shot at salvation. And that was something my young mind had trouble wrapping around, the idea of a loving but unfair God.
And it came into starker relief a few years later. When I discovered my lineage, I discovered a religious heritage I'd never known. At first, I really felt the burden of being the last Kryptonian, and I went out of my way to absorb as much of the culture as I possibly could, including the monotheistic religion of Krypton, whose God is named Rao. And I studied well, religiously, and what I found was that I couldn't figure out which religion felt right, which of my fathers' religions was mine- and I think it weakened my conviction for both.
ID: So it has nothing to do with Diana, then?
S: Oh, with her um, origins, as it were? No, I’d formed most of my religious opinions years before I ever met Diana.
ID: But you believe the claim that she was sculpted from clay by the gods?
S: You know that lasso of truth? It’s no lie, what they say it can do. And she’s constantly in contact with it. Sometimes I think it affects Diana’s tact, but by and large, I’ve never known a more honest person. And when she tells me she knows the Greek gods, and that she was molded from clay by them- I believe her.
ID: And actually, looking at the way she fills out the costume, I think I can believe she was sculpted by the gods.
S: Will you ever tire of classing up this interview?
ID: Nope. But your reticence about Christianity, does that indicate a lack of faith in something, or simply in the specific Christian dogmas?
S: I don’t think it’s necessarily a lack of faith- it’s just a lack of fit. Like, I was unpacking some stuff from my parents’ attic that they’d been storing since I got out of college and got my first tiny apartment in Metropolis, and I found a pair of my old jeans. I didn’t feel like I’d gotten any bigger- and I certainly didn’t feel like I’d gotten any wider, but the jeans just weren't comfortable anymore. So I stopped using them (God, I hope no one finds that wildly offensive).
But honestly I kind of have to believe in a higher organization of some kind, probably even in some kind of big “G” God. I mean, I personally know an angel- Zauriel- who’s done a lot of work with us over the years, including organizing a large contingent of angels to stabilize world conflict during the Mageddon crisis. Mageddon himself was a weapon used by the warring Old Gods, according to the religious beliefs of New Genesis, whose inhabitants are called the New Gods.
Of course, the biggest and probably scariest argument for a God is the Spectre. If there’s anyone who wields more power than me, if there’s anyone who speaks convincingly of a heavenly authority- specifically of being the embodiment of the Wrath of God- it’s him. I’ve always been a bit uneasy about the Old Testament description of God, but the Spectre makes me think there might be something to that, after all.
And of course, Linda Danvers, who’s a devout Methodist and for a time was Supergirl, became an Earth-born angel. Then there’s the long list of people I know who’ve died only to later return to life, and a few of them, like Ollie, actually spent some time in Heaven. Bruce can probably hide behind circular reasoning and long explanations, but to me it seems obvious that there’s more out there than what even I can see.
ID: Okay, you believe in God, so what exactly do you take issue with, with the Christian faith, then?
S: I don’t think I take issue- that’s putting it far too strongly. I think I simply diverge slightly with any specific dogma.
ID: But where do you diverge?
S: I think it’s mostly to do with the specificity. Christianity really makes this argument for a very specific, exact reality- and my experience has deviated substantially from that. So I think it’s in the insistence that their branch of the religion is right, and everyone else- often even other Christians- is wrong and hell bound, that I have trouble with. I’m not, really not, arguing against Christianity or even religion in general- I consider myself a very morally grounded and spiritual person, and I owe that in large part to my upbringing.
Religion and, perhaps more importantly, the public servitude and social cohesion at the heart of virtually all religions, is good. I think, to answer Ayn Rand, man does need values. And I think religion is often the source for imbuing future generations with values.
It’s a spiritual connection, often found in religion but sometimes elsewhere, a connection to other people and, really, beyond that to existence as a whole, that’s important. I think it takes us beyond simple concepts of what’s nice or even what’s socially useful, to a place where our decisions are based on how we should act. If it’s religion that gets you there, if it’s an atheistic anarchy- I think the destination can be as important as the path. But I think it's a journey we all take alone, and though we often find ourselves with companions along the way, it's most important that we're all moving towards those same harmonious goals.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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: My parents were pretty religious, my mom in particular, and they raised me in a good Christian tradition. While there are still definitely aspects of that upbringing in my moral universe, I think it would be limiting to say my worldview is entirely Christian.
ID: What happened?
S: In part, I learned I was an alien. Christianity doesn't specifically deny the existence of extraterrestrials, but it also makes no place for them, either. And I've seen other worlds, thousands of other species, comprising probably a hundred billion other life forms. And each and every one of them has their own unique religious practices. Including Krypton.
But I remember the first time I actually doubted Christianity. One of the boys in my Sunday School class, and I wouldn’t have even been a teenager yet, I don’t think, and he was maybe a year or two older, but he asked about people in Asia, and Africa, who maybe weren’t given the chance to join the Christian church. Our teacher told us, in a nut shell, that everyone got at least one chance to accept God, even if only in a single moment.
And my problem with that answer is it isn’t fair. Here I was, fairly steeped in this “chosen” religion, when there were people, not just in Asia and Africa, but so many others, like pre-Christians who weren’t Jewish who, regardless of their moral caliber or location, were being given only a fleeting shot at salvation. And that was something my young mind had trouble wrapping around, the idea of a loving but unfair God.
And it came into starker relief a few years later. When I discovered my lineage, I discovered a religious heritage I'd never known. At first, I really felt the burden of being the last Kryptonian, and I went out of my way to absorb as much of the culture as I possibly could, including the monotheistic religion of Krypton, whose God is named Rao. And I studied well, religiously, and what I found was that I couldn't figure out which religion felt right, which of my fathers' religions was mine- and I think it weakened my conviction for both.
ID: So it has nothing to do with Diana, then?
S: Oh, with her um, origins, as it were? No, I’d formed most of my religious opinions years before I ever met Diana.
ID: But you believe the claim that she was sculpted from clay by the gods?
S: You know that lasso of truth? It’s no lie, what they say it can do. And she’s constantly in contact with it. Sometimes I think it affects Diana’s tact, but by and large, I’ve never known a more honest person. And when she tells me she knows the Greek gods, and that she was molded from clay by them- I believe her.
ID: And actually, looking at the way she fills out the costume, I think I can believe she was sculpted by the gods.
S: Will you ever tire of classing up this interview?
ID: Nope. But your reticence about Christianity, does that indicate a lack of faith in something, or simply in the specific Christian dogmas?
S: I don’t think it’s necessarily a lack of faith- it’s just a lack of fit. Like, I was unpacking some stuff from my parents’ attic that they’d been storing since I got out of college and got my first tiny apartment in Metropolis, and I found a pair of my old jeans. I didn’t feel like I’d gotten any bigger- and I certainly didn’t feel like I’d gotten any wider, but the jeans just weren't comfortable anymore. So I stopped using them (God, I hope no one finds that wildly offensive).
But honestly I kind of have to believe in a higher organization of some kind, probably even in some kind of big “G” God. I mean, I personally know an angel- Zauriel- who’s done a lot of work with us over the years, including organizing a large contingent of angels to stabilize world conflict during the Mageddon crisis. Mageddon himself was a weapon used by the warring Old Gods, according to the religious beliefs of New Genesis, whose inhabitants are called the New Gods.
Of course, the biggest and probably scariest argument for a God is the Spectre. If there’s anyone who wields more power than me, if there’s anyone who speaks convincingly of a heavenly authority- specifically of being the embodiment of the Wrath of God- it’s him. I’ve always been a bit uneasy about the Old Testament description of God, but the Spectre makes me think there might be something to that, after all.
And of course, Linda Danvers, who’s a devout Methodist and for a time was Supergirl, became an Earth-born angel. Then there’s the long list of people I know who’ve died only to later return to life, and a few of them, like Ollie, actually spent some time in Heaven. Bruce can probably hide behind circular reasoning and long explanations, but to me it seems obvious that there’s more out there than what even I can see.
ID: Okay, you believe in God, so what exactly do you take issue with, with the Christian faith, then?
S: I don’t think I take issue- that’s putting it far too strongly. I think I simply diverge slightly with any specific dogma.
ID: But where do you diverge?
S: I think it’s mostly to do with the specificity. Christianity really makes this argument for a very specific, exact reality- and my experience has deviated substantially from that. So I think it’s in the insistence that their branch of the religion is right, and everyone else- often even other Christians- is wrong and hell bound, that I have trouble with. I’m not, really not, arguing against Christianity or even religion in general- I consider myself a very morally grounded and spiritual person, and I owe that in large part to my upbringing.
Religion and, perhaps more importantly, the public servitude and social cohesion at the heart of virtually all religions, is good. I think, to answer Ayn Rand, man does need values. And I think religion is often the source for imbuing future generations with values.
It’s a spiritual connection, often found in religion but sometimes elsewhere, a connection to other people and, really, beyond that to existence as a whole, that’s important. I think it takes us beyond simple concepts of what’s nice or even what’s socially useful, to a place where our decisions are based on how we should act. If it’s religion that gets you there, if it’s an atheistic anarchy- I think the destination can be as important as the path. But I think it's a journey we all take alone, and though we often find ourselves with companions along the way, it's most important that we're all moving towards those same harmonious goals.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Notre Dame
Incredible Danger: You dropped the Prolife bomb a while back, and you had to know it was something I couldn’t let go of quietly- especially in light of the flare up over the President speaking at Notre Dame. What do you think of all of this?
Superman: If you’ll recall, my statement was a little more nuanced than that; I’m personally against abortion, but have difficulty with the concept of telling someone what to do with their bodies.
ID: Too nuanced. What if a young woman who you cared about, say Kara, became pregnant? Now, you know she's still too young, emotionally and physically, to safely have and then raise that baby. How do you council her?
S: I don't know if Kara's actually having sex yet, um, and I don't want to know, actually. I've had that talk with her, with Lana, so I know she's at least heard the public service announcement version. It's kind of a difficult thing to know what to say on the fly.
ID: You can type as fast as I think- nothing's on the fly with you- but if you want to take a time out to think about it.
S: No. I'd really hoped to avoid politics as much as possible, but this is America, and a very specific time in the country; I guess avoiding politics right now just isn't possible. But before we get into that, I want to talk about the phenomenon itself.
I think the entire issue at Notre Dame hinges on polarization. I think too often in this country we abandon the common, middle ground, and retreat to our familiar fortress on the edges of issues. I think if you paid attention to the response from some people on the abolition side of the argument, you saw a lot of venom, and even hatred.
And here's where I get to say I'm proud of our President, because he addressed the issue and all its nuance in a real way, said that while the argument will eventually go one way or the other, it's important we continue to discuss it publicly in a rational, respectful way. But perhaps, more importantly, he didn't let the controversy consume his speech, and didn't forget that he was there because nearly 3 thousand students were graduating. I think he gave the debate its due, but then moved on, to show that it's less important than a lot of other things in life, that it has its place, but it shouldn't become an obsession.
ID: And what about Kara?
S: Like a dog with its favorite toy, you never let go, do you?
ID: My favorite toy is controversy.
S: I think you have a point, though. It's easy to oppose something in principal, especially when the collateral damage is so high, but when you try to put it in real-world terms, and examine the human costs on both sides, a kind of amorphous issue firms up a bit.
Now, I'll simply accept your premise, that Kara gets pregnant with a child she doesn't want, and that she isn't prepared to raise it- since I think coming to those conclusions myself would take more time and thought, and wouldn't really be appropriate to air like this. But I think I'd try to be honest with her, try to give her all the information, let her know everything she should know, about the potential physical consequences (though some of these are mitigated by her Kryptonian physiology), but most importantly about the psychological consequences. Since she isn't prepared to raise a child, in all likelihood this decision is also a bit beyond her, but I'd try and be as open and accepting and helpful to her as a resource and as a friend and a relative, as I could be. But I think what I'd try to stress the most is that it's her decision.
And I want to clarify, because I think it would be irresponsible from that to determine that I was against abolition. I find abortion to be abhorrent. The procedure itself, the concept.
But people who are “pro-life” aren't even having the same conversation as the people who are “pro-choice.” No reasonable person on this planet is pro-death, so the implication of calling someone pro-life is that anyone who's against them is against life. Likewise, no reasonable person wants the government to have the last say over their body; Green Arrow is the biggest lefty I know, and even he balks at the idea of too much government control. What I'm saying is nobody is anti-choice, either.
So when I say abortion is disgusting, and horrible, and may even be murder, I'm not in disagreement with 90% of the people out there- I'm not. But abortion is only half the issue. The other half revolves around the government's ability to dictate terms about our bodies, and back-alley abortionists, and all the corollary effects of abolition.
The real issue is whether or not a woman's right to determine the destiny of her own body trumps the right to life of a potential human. And that is most definitely a real question, and one I know I don't know the answer to. People lean back on pro-life and pro-choice because no one is comfortable standing up and saying they really know the answer to that conundrum, so they focus on the definitively darker sides of the issue, rather than discuss the merits themselves.
I think Obama framed the conversation rather well, and, like it or not, it is a conversation right now, that we as Americans are having and need to continue having. And I hope, for the soul of America, that it's one we can conclude peaceably.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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: If you’ll recall, my statement was a little more nuanced than that; I’m personally against abortion, but have difficulty with the concept of telling someone what to do with their bodies.
ID: Too nuanced. What if a young woman who you cared about, say Kara, became pregnant? Now, you know she's still too young, emotionally and physically, to safely have and then raise that baby. How do you council her?
S: I don't know if Kara's actually having sex yet, um, and I don't want to know, actually. I've had that talk with her, with Lana, so I know she's at least heard the public service announcement version. It's kind of a difficult thing to know what to say on the fly.
ID: You can type as fast as I think- nothing's on the fly with you- but if you want to take a time out to think about it.
S: No. I'd really hoped to avoid politics as much as possible, but this is America, and a very specific time in the country; I guess avoiding politics right now just isn't possible. But before we get into that, I want to talk about the phenomenon itself.
I think the entire issue at Notre Dame hinges on polarization. I think too often in this country we abandon the common, middle ground, and retreat to our familiar fortress on the edges of issues. I think if you paid attention to the response from some people on the abolition side of the argument, you saw a lot of venom, and even hatred.
And here's where I get to say I'm proud of our President, because he addressed the issue and all its nuance in a real way, said that while the argument will eventually go one way or the other, it's important we continue to discuss it publicly in a rational, respectful way. But perhaps, more importantly, he didn't let the controversy consume his speech, and didn't forget that he was there because nearly 3 thousand students were graduating. I think he gave the debate its due, but then moved on, to show that it's less important than a lot of other things in life, that it has its place, but it shouldn't become an obsession.
ID: And what about Kara?
S: Like a dog with its favorite toy, you never let go, do you?
ID: My favorite toy is controversy.
S: I think you have a point, though. It's easy to oppose something in principal, especially when the collateral damage is so high, but when you try to put it in real-world terms, and examine the human costs on both sides, a kind of amorphous issue firms up a bit.
Now, I'll simply accept your premise, that Kara gets pregnant with a child she doesn't want, and that she isn't prepared to raise it- since I think coming to those conclusions myself would take more time and thought, and wouldn't really be appropriate to air like this. But I think I'd try to be honest with her, try to give her all the information, let her know everything she should know, about the potential physical consequences (though some of these are mitigated by her Kryptonian physiology), but most importantly about the psychological consequences. Since she isn't prepared to raise a child, in all likelihood this decision is also a bit beyond her, but I'd try and be as open and accepting and helpful to her as a resource and as a friend and a relative, as I could be. But I think what I'd try to stress the most is that it's her decision.
And I want to clarify, because I think it would be irresponsible from that to determine that I was against abolition. I find abortion to be abhorrent. The procedure itself, the concept.
But people who are “pro-life” aren't even having the same conversation as the people who are “pro-choice.” No reasonable person on this planet is pro-death, so the implication of calling someone pro-life is that anyone who's against them is against life. Likewise, no reasonable person wants the government to have the last say over their body; Green Arrow is the biggest lefty I know, and even he balks at the idea of too much government control. What I'm saying is nobody is anti-choice, either.
So when I say abortion is disgusting, and horrible, and may even be murder, I'm not in disagreement with 90% of the people out there- I'm not. But abortion is only half the issue. The other half revolves around the government's ability to dictate terms about our bodies, and back-alley abortionists, and all the corollary effects of abolition.
The real issue is whether or not a woman's right to determine the destiny of her own body trumps the right to life of a potential human. And that is most definitely a real question, and one I know I don't know the answer to. People lean back on pro-life and pro-choice because no one is comfortable standing up and saying they really know the answer to that conundrum, so they focus on the definitively darker sides of the issue, rather than discuss the merits themselves.
I think Obama framed the conversation rather well, and, like it or not, it is a conversation right now, that we as Americans are having and need to continue having. And I hope, for the soul of America, that it's one we can conclude peaceably.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Mom
Inedible Delicacies: I'd like to spend today talking about your mother. First off, what did you do for Mother's Day?
Superman: I took my mom to breakfast; she insisted we go to IHOP.
ID: IHOP's not so bad. Why insisted?
S: Well, it was mother's day, so the place was packed. There was actually a line trailing outside. I told her I could fly us to the west coast, where it was earlier and we could probably get a seat, but she said, “That would be undignified,” and gave me a motherly smile. We ended up waiting an hour, and by the time we were seated I was famished.
ID: I didn't know you needed food.
S: I'm honestly not sure that I do, but the body gets used to things. Like sleep. I've never really tried to see how long I could function without sleep, but I start to feel psychosomatically tired after sixteen hours. But I was hungry, so I ordered a big country breakfast, a giant mocha, and two plates of appetizers. The appetizers came pretty quickly, and we hadn't finished them by the time the main course arrived. I forgot how much I love IHOP- they had some delicious strawberry pancakes.
ID: Ahem.
S: Sorry. Yeah. Not to advertise or anything. But food is one of the things I get really passionate about; humans enjoy their food, but I can taste every subtle flavor, every dash of pepper or oregano.
ID: Okay, but on the subject of your mother...
S: We talked. And I guess maybe part of the reason why I'm sort of steering clear of our actual conversation is we discussed some of the family's skeletons. It's weird to me the things that bring out candor in my mother- a crowded IHOP being one of the least predictable. And once we'd finished eating, we went to, first Target, and then, when she realized she needed something else, to a Walmart. It seemed like a very odd way to spend a day, but it was one of the first times I've just spent a day with my mother in what seems like forever. Oh, and that thing she needed, was chicken poop- which, I'm not dialed in enough to poop humor to have found it funny the first time, but we made an entire round of Target, with her asking every person in a red shirt she passed if they could point her at the chicken poop, and by the end I was giggling every time- and of course, once we'd made it to their gardening section we were politely told they don't carry chicken poop, which led us to the Walmart. And yet another round of watching my mother wander through a store asking people for chicken poop and getting odd stares.
ID: I can't help but feel that that story was tailor-made for me. Thanks.
S: You're welcome.
ID: I'm going to take a flying leap and guess that you love your mother. What I want you to tell me is why.
S: Okay. I think I can accomplish that with a story. Dad was always the farmer, and while mom was really good at being a wife and mother, she had a bit more ambition than that. And I remember there was a summer when I was just starting high school that they weren't sleeping in the same room. Mom wanted to start up a business, a store; she told him that nobody ever got comfortable farming anymore, that entrepreneurship was the way America was going to feed itself into the future. My dad was reluctant to start up a business- and at the time, he had a point, since statistically speaking keeping the farm going was difficult, but the odds of a new business failing were much, much greater. But one night they had a real loud argument- not that there was ever an argument they had where I couldn't hear even the whispered obscenities through the walls- but mom really laid it out. I think she'd been practicing, perfecting her sales pitch, because she was very professional, and confident, and I found myself really getting invested in her idea. But what finally I think won dad over, and I say this because his heart rhythm changed, is when she told him that if it was going to be ever, it had to be now. See, mom wanted me to go to college, and she knew that if she waited even another year, that even with an overly optimistic model, she wouldn't have rebounded the money they invested. She wanted to help pay for my education, not hurt our chances of paying for it. And, you know, once she'd put it that way, once she'd laid all of her reasoning and preparation out like that, of course he said yes.
ID: So I imagine that led to their, um, reconciliation.
S: Yeah- and I went for a run. There are some things no teenager should have to hear his parents getting up to.
ID: Sounds like you were a bright kid.
S: I was raised well. Dad was a good father, taught me how to be a man, and what working meant, what spending every hour you could providing for your family, and not just monetarily, but providing safety and comfort, respect and affection, he really prepared me to be a man. But my mom taught me so much more. Before I even started school she worked with me and my colors, numbers, my alphabet- worked with me even though my first words were in Kryptonian. She helped me with my reading, my multiplication tables, world geography. Every step of the way, mom was there. And when school asked for volunteers, whether it was for class field trips or because the teachers needed help organizing something, she was always the first to call the teacher or send a note. She always took an active role, in not just my school, not just my education, but in our community. She really prepared me to be a citizen, to be human. I think the combination is what made me the person I am today- and I love the person I am today, so I'm eternally, eternally thankful to the both of them for that.
ID: Your mother, she sounds like she was really at home in education. Why do you think she never became a teacher?
S: I think in a different world she would have been. But in this one, she was the wife of a farmer, and that's a pretty full-time gig, especially when they were both young, she really did a lot of the physical work around the farm. As they got older, and couldn't do as much themselves, they ended up hiring on more hands, and maybe then she'd have been able to go back to school, only she still had dad to take care of, and soon enough me to raise. And I think she prioritized. I think she'd have loved to have been a teacher; I think there was a part of her that felt she was a bad woman for not being more independent, not making decisions like that for herself to go back to school or to get a teaching certificate, but she chose her family over herself. I think the fact that that was what she chose makes it a very feminist decision, and because of the sacrifices involved a very admirable one.
And I want to clarify something you said earlier. I don't just love my mother, but I'm very proud to have had her as my mother. I think she still has a lot of greatness left in her, and I know she'll continue to make me proud.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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 took my mom to breakfast; she insisted we go to IHOP.
ID: IHOP's not so bad. Why insisted?
S: Well, it was mother's day, so the place was packed. There was actually a line trailing outside. I told her I could fly us to the west coast, where it was earlier and we could probably get a seat, but she said, “That would be undignified,” and gave me a motherly smile. We ended up waiting an hour, and by the time we were seated I was famished.
ID: I didn't know you needed food.
S: I'm honestly not sure that I do, but the body gets used to things. Like sleep. I've never really tried to see how long I could function without sleep, but I start to feel psychosomatically tired after sixteen hours. But I was hungry, so I ordered a big country breakfast, a giant mocha, and two plates of appetizers. The appetizers came pretty quickly, and we hadn't finished them by the time the main course arrived. I forgot how much I love IHOP- they had some delicious strawberry pancakes.
ID: Ahem.
S: Sorry. Yeah. Not to advertise or anything. But food is one of the things I get really passionate about; humans enjoy their food, but I can taste every subtle flavor, every dash of pepper or oregano.
ID: Okay, but on the subject of your mother...
S: We talked. And I guess maybe part of the reason why I'm sort of steering clear of our actual conversation is we discussed some of the family's skeletons. It's weird to me the things that bring out candor in my mother- a crowded IHOP being one of the least predictable. And once we'd finished eating, we went to, first Target, and then, when she realized she needed something else, to a Walmart. It seemed like a very odd way to spend a day, but it was one of the first times I've just spent a day with my mother in what seems like forever. Oh, and that thing she needed, was chicken poop- which, I'm not dialed in enough to poop humor to have found it funny the first time, but we made an entire round of Target, with her asking every person in a red shirt she passed if they could point her at the chicken poop, and by the end I was giggling every time- and of course, once we'd made it to their gardening section we were politely told they don't carry chicken poop, which led us to the Walmart. And yet another round of watching my mother wander through a store asking people for chicken poop and getting odd stares.
ID: I can't help but feel that that story was tailor-made for me. Thanks.
S: You're welcome.
ID: I'm going to take a flying leap and guess that you love your mother. What I want you to tell me is why.
S: Okay. I think I can accomplish that with a story. Dad was always the farmer, and while mom was really good at being a wife and mother, she had a bit more ambition than that. And I remember there was a summer when I was just starting high school that they weren't sleeping in the same room. Mom wanted to start up a business, a store; she told him that nobody ever got comfortable farming anymore, that entrepreneurship was the way America was going to feed itself into the future. My dad was reluctant to start up a business- and at the time, he had a point, since statistically speaking keeping the farm going was difficult, but the odds of a new business failing were much, much greater. But one night they had a real loud argument- not that there was ever an argument they had where I couldn't hear even the whispered obscenities through the walls- but mom really laid it out. I think she'd been practicing, perfecting her sales pitch, because she was very professional, and confident, and I found myself really getting invested in her idea. But what finally I think won dad over, and I say this because his heart rhythm changed, is when she told him that if it was going to be ever, it had to be now. See, mom wanted me to go to college, and she knew that if she waited even another year, that even with an overly optimistic model, she wouldn't have rebounded the money they invested. She wanted to help pay for my education, not hurt our chances of paying for it. And, you know, once she'd put it that way, once she'd laid all of her reasoning and preparation out like that, of course he said yes.
ID: So I imagine that led to their, um, reconciliation.
S: Yeah- and I went for a run. There are some things no teenager should have to hear his parents getting up to.
ID: Sounds like you were a bright kid.
S: I was raised well. Dad was a good father, taught me how to be a man, and what working meant, what spending every hour you could providing for your family, and not just monetarily, but providing safety and comfort, respect and affection, he really prepared me to be a man. But my mom taught me so much more. Before I even started school she worked with me and my colors, numbers, my alphabet- worked with me even though my first words were in Kryptonian. She helped me with my reading, my multiplication tables, world geography. Every step of the way, mom was there. And when school asked for volunteers, whether it was for class field trips or because the teachers needed help organizing something, she was always the first to call the teacher or send a note. She always took an active role, in not just my school, not just my education, but in our community. She really prepared me to be a citizen, to be human. I think the combination is what made me the person I am today- and I love the person I am today, so I'm eternally, eternally thankful to the both of them for that.
ID: Your mother, she sounds like she was really at home in education. Why do you think she never became a teacher?
S: I think in a different world she would have been. But in this one, she was the wife of a farmer, and that's a pretty full-time gig, especially when they were both young, she really did a lot of the physical work around the farm. As they got older, and couldn't do as much themselves, they ended up hiring on more hands, and maybe then she'd have been able to go back to school, only she still had dad to take care of, and soon enough me to raise. And I think she prioritized. I think she'd have loved to have been a teacher; I think there was a part of her that felt she was a bad woman for not being more independent, not making decisions like that for herself to go back to school or to get a teaching certificate, but she chose her family over herself. I think the fact that that was what she chose makes it a very feminist decision, and because of the sacrifices involved a very admirable one.
And I want to clarify something you said earlier. I don't just love my mother, but I'm very proud to have had her as my mother. I think she still has a lot of greatness left in her, and I know she'll continue to make me proud.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Metropolis
Ignoble Denomination: I want to discuss something. You grew up in Kansas, in a small town, but you ended up in the biggest, probably most liberal city in the country, living on the East Coast. What fomented that change?
Superman: I think, if I’m honest, that I ended up in Metropolis because of its history. Not because it’s the city of tomorrow, or even because of its beautiful architecture, but because of its past. Metropolis, along with New York and Gotham, was one of the hubs of immigration around the turn of the last century.
But unlike New York, and to a lesser extent, Gotham, Metropolis didn’t fracture into ethnic neighborhoods, didn’t divide along racial lines. Metropolis was the melting pot, the place where any immigrant could go and become part of a city greater than the sum of its parts. As much as I love my parents, and even the small community in Kansas that really nurtured me in my youth, there was something that such a homogenized place simply couldn’t provide for me. In Metropolis I rent from a Greek Cypriot landlord who’s married to a Turkish pianist; my wife and I eat regularly from the little Chinese take-out place across the way, that features a Tibetan flutist. On of the best photographers I work with at The Planet is Indian, and he’s married to a Pakistani woman who owns her own florist franchise, and they’ve actually been discussing adopting one of the war orphans from Afghanistan. And the thing about Metropolis for me is not a one of these relations seems forced or self-conscious; these things all coexist naturally, and what is so abnormal about it is how normal it is.
But what makes Metropolis different I guess from other immigrant cultures is that these people all still hold dearly onto their culture, while at the same time embracing the shared heritage of the city. You know how New York was after 9/11, where every New Yorker felt like their neighbors were family for a while- Metropolis is like that every day.
ID: That’s actually an interesting point. I know Metropolis and New York have always been sister cities (with Gotham often called their ugly stepsister). There have been people who jokingly refer to New York as Metropolis’ alter ego. As a native Metropolitan, how did the city react to 9/11?
S: There was a lot of shock. I think, too, there was a lot of, “We’re next.” But I think at the same time, in Metropolis, there was a little bit less, um, terror, I guess. As much as people in other parts of the country were upset that I wasn’t there to stop what happened on 9/11, I think in Metropolis there was a feeling, and I don’t know if it was justified, but there seemed to be an undercurrent of, “It can’t happen here.” A lot of people stopped me on the streets, for about thee months after it happened, they’d stop me just to thank me; and it was hard, some of those times, for us to keep up decorum. You know, when people express that kind of a sentiment to you, it’s hard for the both of you not to tear up, it’s hard not to just fly over and hug them because the both of you could really use it. But I think that would undermine the trust, and the faith in my strength, that the whole exchange was based around.
But you know, it was different in Gotham; people in Gotham are different than here. New York has a reputation for having some of the hardest people in the country, but Gotham- especially Gotham in its worst days- is like the worst parts of New York stretched across the entire city. So there’s this sense, I guess, that you can’t terrorize Gotham. I mean, if the Joker, if the Scarecrow, if a hundred other homicidal lunatics can’t grind that city to a halt, there’s just not even a point.
ID: I’d heard a, I guess it’s not exactly a joke, because it’s in such poor taste, particularly since it made the rounds during the aftermath of the earthquake, but that you could blow up entire blocks in Gotham, and neither the citizens nor the government would bat an eye.
S: And there really is something to that. I’ll go on record as saying Batman is not the fascist that he’s often portrayed as in popular media; he’s got access to fewer cameras in Gotham than they have in London. But I don’t think he could operate in the same way in Metropolis. I think, just fundamentally, that the entire tone of his approach wouldn’t work. I think there’d be a popular outcry, however misguided, to send Maggie Sawyer and the SCU after him.
ID: That’s the, uh, Special Crimes Unit, right, their superhuman response team, sort of a SuperS.W.A.T.?”
S: You could probably call it that, yeah.
ID: I’m vaguely familiar with the SCU, but they’ve been working in partnership with, uh, S.T.A.R. Labs since their inception, and before the SCU’s creation, Metro PD had been partnered with them.
S: These were the days before the SuperMax. Batman could always drop off the Joker in Arkham, and, their nonstellar escape rate notwithstanding, they could at least presumably hold him. But with the Parasite, Brainiac- a lot of the threats we’ve dealt with in Metropolis were just too big to be contained by a normal prison. We were fortunate that S.T.A.R. Labs was in the area, because they had the facilities to effectively contain the threats, and out of it they got the opportunity to do research on unique and extraterrestrial organisms that scientists at WayneTech would have killed to study (and some of the folks at LexCorp actually have). And S.T.A.R., while technically an independent facility, are also big government contractors, and get a lot of their funding from the city, and were of course the source of the SCU’s special weaponry. Overall, it’s been a very symbiotic relationship.
ID: I was going to call it incestuous.
S: I think that potential was there, sure. But I think it helps that S.T.A.R. isn’t governmental- and any patents resulting from their extrahuman examinations are jointly owned by the government. It’s perhaps not ideal, but as opposed to waiting a decade for a funds approval, which, if you’ll recall, was what we did with SuperMax, before deciding to just build it ourselves- it worked out well, organically.
ID: Okay. You mentioned the scenario a moment ago, so I have to ask: do you think the SCU could take down the Batman?
S: No. I think they’re trained to take on an entirely different kind of threat, and Bruce, well, Bruce trains himself to take on all comers. I think the SCU might score some interesting body shots, and against almost any other person, superhuman or otherwise, I’d give them pretty good odds, but against Bruce, well, the only way to stop him is to do it before he figures out how to stop you, and the thing is, for most of us, he’s already figured it out.
ID: Heh. But I’ve pulled us on a tangent, and I want to close with why you love Metropolis, as I think you still very clearly do.
S: Metropolis is my home. Kansas will always be where I grew up, where I met my parents and where I learned how to be the person I am, but Metropolis is the place where I finally got a chance to be myself. It’s something that’s hard to articulate, but living for the first time far removed from everything you’ve known before- it changes fundamentally who you are. And Metropolis is home.
All that stuff I said about immigrants, and this place being the real melting pot at the center of the country’s diversity- I meant it. This place is accepting in a way I never thought possible. I remember the first interview I gave where I finally admitted I was an alien. I was just incredibly nervous, because I thought, God, this could be it. I could have to retire that entire persona, which by that point, I mean, how could I not love getting to be and see the best in people? I mean, when you’re Superman, you get to be smart, and kind, and heroic, and because people only see those shining parts of you for a moment, they really are just happy to be near you. And the prospect of losing that, giving it up just to be honest, about something that shouldn’t matter even if it might- and I remember the way Lois looked at me when I told her the truth, and there was this, this disbelief, and it crushed me. I thought, God, this is going to be the face people show me from now on, like I’m a person on the street trying to sell my newsletter I’ve written on cardboard. And I really, really just wanted to fly away, then and there, go back to Kansas and just live like a hermit.
But I stayed. And as the interview went on, her disbelief, her incredulousness, it gave way, and what was left was a newfound understanding, maybe even a fascination, with my home planet. And really, the write-up Lois gave me for that, and this was years before we started dating, so, there wasn’t too much bias in it, but it was really beautiful. I think she titled it “I Come in Peace.” I’ve told her, many times, it’s my favorite of everything she’s ever written, that more so than for her audience, I felt that she’d written it for me. She’ll never admit it, never; her pride wouldn’t let her tell me on my deathbed, or at least as near to it as I seem to be these days- but from her silence, and the coyness in her eyes and her smile, I’m pretty sure she did.
And I think, in part because the piece really was, for lack of a better word, so very humanizing, the city really accepted me. People really did warm up to me me, in a way they hadn't been able to before. People had always been really nice, really friendly, but there was a formality to it, and now I had this wonderful man named Bibbo calling me his pal Kal, and a hot dog vendor from the Philipines stopping to offer me a comped foot long, from one immigrant to another. This place really has become my home. And really, I credit that really warm reception entirely to the story she wrote, and way she accepted me in it.
So I guess, more than anything, I love Metropolis because it’s where I met and fell in love with my wife, Lois- easily the love of my life.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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 think, if I’m honest, that I ended up in Metropolis because of its history. Not because it’s the city of tomorrow, or even because of its beautiful architecture, but because of its past. Metropolis, along with New York and Gotham, was one of the hubs of immigration around the turn of the last century.
But unlike New York, and to a lesser extent, Gotham, Metropolis didn’t fracture into ethnic neighborhoods, didn’t divide along racial lines. Metropolis was the melting pot, the place where any immigrant could go and become part of a city greater than the sum of its parts. As much as I love my parents, and even the small community in Kansas that really nurtured me in my youth, there was something that such a homogenized place simply couldn’t provide for me. In Metropolis I rent from a Greek Cypriot landlord who’s married to a Turkish pianist; my wife and I eat regularly from the little Chinese take-out place across the way, that features a Tibetan flutist. On of the best photographers I work with at The Planet is Indian, and he’s married to a Pakistani woman who owns her own florist franchise, and they’ve actually been discussing adopting one of the war orphans from Afghanistan. And the thing about Metropolis for me is not a one of these relations seems forced or self-conscious; these things all coexist naturally, and what is so abnormal about it is how normal it is.
But what makes Metropolis different I guess from other immigrant cultures is that these people all still hold dearly onto their culture, while at the same time embracing the shared heritage of the city. You know how New York was after 9/11, where every New Yorker felt like their neighbors were family for a while- Metropolis is like that every day.
ID: That’s actually an interesting point. I know Metropolis and New York have always been sister cities (with Gotham often called their ugly stepsister). There have been people who jokingly refer to New York as Metropolis’ alter ego. As a native Metropolitan, how did the city react to 9/11?
S: There was a lot of shock. I think, too, there was a lot of, “We’re next.” But I think at the same time, in Metropolis, there was a little bit less, um, terror, I guess. As much as people in other parts of the country were upset that I wasn’t there to stop what happened on 9/11, I think in Metropolis there was a feeling, and I don’t know if it was justified, but there seemed to be an undercurrent of, “It can’t happen here.” A lot of people stopped me on the streets, for about thee months after it happened, they’d stop me just to thank me; and it was hard, some of those times, for us to keep up decorum. You know, when people express that kind of a sentiment to you, it’s hard for the both of you not to tear up, it’s hard not to just fly over and hug them because the both of you could really use it. But I think that would undermine the trust, and the faith in my strength, that the whole exchange was based around.
But you know, it was different in Gotham; people in Gotham are different than here. New York has a reputation for having some of the hardest people in the country, but Gotham- especially Gotham in its worst days- is like the worst parts of New York stretched across the entire city. So there’s this sense, I guess, that you can’t terrorize Gotham. I mean, if the Joker, if the Scarecrow, if a hundred other homicidal lunatics can’t grind that city to a halt, there’s just not even a point.
ID: I’d heard a, I guess it’s not exactly a joke, because it’s in such poor taste, particularly since it made the rounds during the aftermath of the earthquake, but that you could blow up entire blocks in Gotham, and neither the citizens nor the government would bat an eye.
S: And there really is something to that. I’ll go on record as saying Batman is not the fascist that he’s often portrayed as in popular media; he’s got access to fewer cameras in Gotham than they have in London. But I don’t think he could operate in the same way in Metropolis. I think, just fundamentally, that the entire tone of his approach wouldn’t work. I think there’d be a popular outcry, however misguided, to send Maggie Sawyer and the SCU after him.
ID: That’s the, uh, Special Crimes Unit, right, their superhuman response team, sort of a SuperS.W.A.T.?”
S: You could probably call it that, yeah.
ID: I’m vaguely familiar with the SCU, but they’ve been working in partnership with, uh, S.T.A.R. Labs since their inception, and before the SCU’s creation, Metro PD had been partnered with them.
S: These were the days before the SuperMax. Batman could always drop off the Joker in Arkham, and, their nonstellar escape rate notwithstanding, they could at least presumably hold him. But with the Parasite, Brainiac- a lot of the threats we’ve dealt with in Metropolis were just too big to be contained by a normal prison. We were fortunate that S.T.A.R. Labs was in the area, because they had the facilities to effectively contain the threats, and out of it they got the opportunity to do research on unique and extraterrestrial organisms that scientists at WayneTech would have killed to study (and some of the folks at LexCorp actually have). And S.T.A.R., while technically an independent facility, are also big government contractors, and get a lot of their funding from the city, and were of course the source of the SCU’s special weaponry. Overall, it’s been a very symbiotic relationship.
ID: I was going to call it incestuous.
S: I think that potential was there, sure. But I think it helps that S.T.A.R. isn’t governmental- and any patents resulting from their extrahuman examinations are jointly owned by the government. It’s perhaps not ideal, but as opposed to waiting a decade for a funds approval, which, if you’ll recall, was what we did with SuperMax, before deciding to just build it ourselves- it worked out well, organically.
ID: Okay. You mentioned the scenario a moment ago, so I have to ask: do you think the SCU could take down the Batman?
S: No. I think they’re trained to take on an entirely different kind of threat, and Bruce, well, Bruce trains himself to take on all comers. I think the SCU might score some interesting body shots, and against almost any other person, superhuman or otherwise, I’d give them pretty good odds, but against Bruce, well, the only way to stop him is to do it before he figures out how to stop you, and the thing is, for most of us, he’s already figured it out.
ID: Heh. But I’ve pulled us on a tangent, and I want to close with why you love Metropolis, as I think you still very clearly do.
S: Metropolis is my home. Kansas will always be where I grew up, where I met my parents and where I learned how to be the person I am, but Metropolis is the place where I finally got a chance to be myself. It’s something that’s hard to articulate, but living for the first time far removed from everything you’ve known before- it changes fundamentally who you are. And Metropolis is home.
All that stuff I said about immigrants, and this place being the real melting pot at the center of the country’s diversity- I meant it. This place is accepting in a way I never thought possible. I remember the first interview I gave where I finally admitted I was an alien. I was just incredibly nervous, because I thought, God, this could be it. I could have to retire that entire persona, which by that point, I mean, how could I not love getting to be and see the best in people? I mean, when you’re Superman, you get to be smart, and kind, and heroic, and because people only see those shining parts of you for a moment, they really are just happy to be near you. And the prospect of losing that, giving it up just to be honest, about something that shouldn’t matter even if it might- and I remember the way Lois looked at me when I told her the truth, and there was this, this disbelief, and it crushed me. I thought, God, this is going to be the face people show me from now on, like I’m a person on the street trying to sell my newsletter I’ve written on cardboard. And I really, really just wanted to fly away, then and there, go back to Kansas and just live like a hermit.
But I stayed. And as the interview went on, her disbelief, her incredulousness, it gave way, and what was left was a newfound understanding, maybe even a fascination, with my home planet. And really, the write-up Lois gave me for that, and this was years before we started dating, so, there wasn’t too much bias in it, but it was really beautiful. I think she titled it “I Come in Peace.” I’ve told her, many times, it’s my favorite of everything she’s ever written, that more so than for her audience, I felt that she’d written it for me. She’ll never admit it, never; her pride wouldn’t let her tell me on my deathbed, or at least as near to it as I seem to be these days- but from her silence, and the coyness in her eyes and her smile, I’m pretty sure she did.
And I think, in part because the piece really was, for lack of a better word, so very humanizing, the city really accepted me. People really did warm up to me me, in a way they hadn't been able to before. People had always been really nice, really friendly, but there was a formality to it, and now I had this wonderful man named Bibbo calling me his pal Kal, and a hot dog vendor from the Philipines stopping to offer me a comped foot long, from one immigrant to another. This place really has become my home. And really, I credit that really warm reception entirely to the story she wrote, and way she accepted me in it.
So I guess, more than anything, I love Metropolis because it’s where I met and fell in love with my wife, Lois- easily the love of my life.
We’ll be trying to bring you a new section of the interview every Monday. 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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