ID NOTE: This update discusses quite a few storylines from current and ongoing movies and TV, including (but not necessarily limited to): Harry Potter, Madmen, Scrubs, House; this is the only spoiler warning you’re getting.
Inscrutable Diarist: Okay, so you left a message on my answering machine- something you wanted to talk about.
Superman: I realized something. Well wait- I’m getting ahead of myself. I finally went to see the new Harry Potter- I know, I’m stupidly late, but I’ve been busy. Anyway, it felt like a Halloweenish movie, with the witches and everything, and we finally had a moment to ourselves. And after the movie I asked Lois, who’s a huge fan of the books, about what comes next. Which of course opened a whole can of deaths and things that sound close to insanity when splashed out over the course of twenty seconds. And, intrigued, I asked how long until the last movie came out.
And that’s when Lois went white as a sheet. She managed to mumble that they’d split the last book into two movies, one in 2010 and the other in 2011. “Oh,” was all I could manage. See, I’d sort of forgotten myself; I’ve internalized my mortality enough that I thought I might be able to “wait” for a sequel next year- but at that moment I realized I couldn’t delude myself into believing that I’d see the end of the series.
Which is a roundabout way of saying I’ve finally started reading the books. Ollie and Lois have been on me about reading them since just after the first movie- but they both hated the films, and I liked them- and I wanted to continue liking them.
And I might not have come to it on my own, but I was talking to Ollie, because he’s been wanting to discuss Half-Blood Prince since he saw it at the midnight opening (really, I suppose he’d been waiting since he’d been at the midnight book opening). And it shouldn’t surprise me, because his exuberance has precedent, but he jumped on it, said, “If you want to know the ending now you’ll have to finally read the books.”
Of course, I could have always just read the Wikipedia synopsis, but I figured he was right. I thought since I can read pretty quick, and both he and Lois insisted that they’d cut out a lot from the movies, that I should start over from the beginning. And I’ve only just started, just a few pages into the first book, but so far I’m not blown away. I guess there’s just been so much hype, I mean, at least six years of it, now, that I think it would have taken something Shakespearean to really impress me like I’ve been told it would. And I’m not taking anything away from Rowling, not at all. I mean, Harry Potter, particularly that first book, from what I’ve heard, is meant as a children’s story, or at least something accessible to children. And there’s certainly something very British about the book, too, even more British even than the all-British/Irish/Scottish-cast movies.
Anyway, I’m tangentially off, um, what I was getting at is there’s all kinds of things I realized I’m going to miss out on. Lois and I have been addicted to Madmen- though admittedly for different reasons. I think she just likes staring at Jon Hamm.
ID: You know, there is more than a passing resemblance between the two of you- you know, before you lost all the weight.
S: Lost the weight? Clever. Anyway. I hate the show, and the fact that virtually all of the characters no the show are predatory and inhuman, and even at the best of times all of them are eagerly self-serving; it’s basically a misanthropic fairy tale, but there’s something about Don’s back story that, I guess because of its rural setting, it just hits close to home. I guess I can’t help but think that with a little less luck that could have been me, stuck in a home where I wasn’t wanted or even liked, and I guess every episode I go in hoping that he’ll rise above his lousy upbringing and
ID: Be you?
S: Be him. I mean, we get it in fits and spurts- the character’s got a strong base morality above and beyond what seems to be the norm for the show, but oftentimes he ignores his better instincts because he’d rather have sex with whoever’s guesting that episode.
ID: Okay. But what else are you anticipating, what else are you missing out on?
S: I’m glad I got to see House get out of the asylum. I’m not a huge fan of his character, and the show can be formulaic, but the mysteries… I guess I’m glad, too, I got to see the beginnings of post-asylum, moderately more human and gentle House. I’ve always gotten the sense that House is what would have happened to Bruce if there never was a Batman- that he would have followed in his father’s footsteps and become a doctor, and that he’d still be brilliant, but just as he does now, he’d use that brilliance to push people away. And I’m glad I got to see the “end” of Scrubs- at least to the point where JD stops being the main character, and really, that’s the end as far as anybody’s really concerned.
But it isn’t just movie and TV- although those kinds of things are always a little easier to predict. But Lana’s pregnant, which I don’t think is a secret- at least I hope not- and I found myself the other day counting up the time she has left, and thinking, “I’m not going to get to see her baby.” And it’s stupid, but when she first got pregnant, I know she talked about making me the baby’s godfather, and…
And in the League, there are a lot of engagements and wedding dates floating around. And I’m man enough to admit- maybe because for me mine was such a long time coming- but I like weddings. Seeing two people who really care about one another making that social commitment.
ID: Which brings up something, and I forget, hell, we may have talked about it at some point, but not having my notes on all previous forty-some odd conversations we’ve had, we’ll just roll with it, but I hear that there are a few gay superhero weddings in the mix- I think Question/Batwoman for one has been rumored. What are your thoughts?
S: That’s the easiest divisive question you’ve ever asked. If two people really care about one another enough to want to make that social commitment, then absolutely I want them to have that freedom. More than that, I want to stand with them when they make that declaration. It’s a beautiful thing to be a part of. And I can’t even begin to fathom how anyone could want to stand in its way.
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.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Wonder Woman Day
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Hawk and Dove
Innate Docility: President Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize.
Superman: I heard.
ID: Why do you think you, and the rest of the Justice League, have never won a peace prize?
S: Honestly? A few reasons spring to mind. The first, though probably the least, is most of us have had at least some contact with outsiders- people society at large would consider “other,” be they aliens or reclusive island nations. I think no matter how much people may look up to us, respect us, there’s a certain amount of unease with that.
Second, look at the history: Anwar Sadat, Yasser Arafat, Kissinger- even giving it to Carter during Bush’s presidency. The Nobel Committee often uses the prize as a carrot, in the hopes of shaping international policy. In essence, the message was, “Keep up the diplomacy- and try not to bomb Cambodia.”
Third, we’re vigilantes. We are, under most national and international laws, operating unsanctioned. The Nobel Committee, under the auspices of the Norwegian government, could never be seen to official accept what we do. And there's a perception that we try to punch all our problems away.
Fourth- I’m actually surprised Diana doesn’t have one- as is Greg Rucka, apparently. She’s done extensive work for and with UNICEF and the International Committee of the Red Cross & Crescent- both of which have won at least one prize. She doesn’t often get the credit she’s due, but Bruce once paid for a study, and for every punch she throws she gives three speeches about peace, and for every speech she throws or attends some kind of charity benefit. Around her there’s sprung up this mythology of an Amazonian warrior woman, and frankly, it’s a very small part of who she is.
ID: Hmm. So do you think Obama deserved one?
S: I honestly don’t think it was aimed at Obama specifically; his election, on the platform he articulated, was made possible by the American people. I think it was a high profile way of saying to America, “Welcome back.”
ID: So you think internationally we’ve been
S: Absent. Yes. Absolutely. Off the reservation, at a minimum.
ID: Okay, but even allowing for a moment that the award was for the people generally, do you think we’ve earned it?
S: I think the hope is that we will. The hope is that America is back to the country who first proposed the League of Nations to the world, who were instrumental in the creation of the United Nations, who only reluctantly entered the world wars- not the bickering, antagonistic state who refused to join the original League, who did everything politically possible to hobble the UN, whose leader- ostensibly the leader of the free world- thumbed his nose at unilateralism and who seemed to those abroad to be, if not war hungry, at least peace-aversive.
ID: I’m reminded of a pair of your fellow do-gooders who seem awfully apt to the conversation, Dawn and Hank Hall- Hawk and Dove, to the action-figure buying kiddies in the audience.
S: Don’t believe everything you read about them. For one, Dawn’s always been a woman- she was never "Don" and they were never siblings. In the fictions it was felt at the time, and maybe rightly so, that liberals, already caricatured as weak, would be ill-served having a woman, equally caricatured as weak, as their figurehead. It added all kinds of sexual politics, as did their at-the-time budding romance, that weren’t exactly appropriate for the funny pages of the day, or paramount to the issues they were discussing.
But honestly, Dawn and Hank were a little before my time. I’ve worked with them, sure, but by the time I donned my first pair of tights, they had already been married for years, and were looking to retire. I think what worked for them, and why I think I’m glad you brought them up, is they learned the beauty of combining their ideologies, their strengths, and their efforts. I remember talking to the both of them during the presidential campaign last year, and Hank was very big into “Bomb, Bomb, Bomb, Bomb Bomb Iran,” but Dawn, very coolly, said that the Iranian people would suffer disproportionately from that, that diplomacy and sanctions should be tried first, but that if the Iranians couldn’t be convinced from the brink- which they both believe the Iranians are when it comes to the inseparable issues of Iranian nuclear policy and Israeli security- then she’d help strap Hank into the bomber of his choice. I think, and I think I’ve lived, that you really need to work for peace, with almost everything you have in you- but that some problems can’t be sanctioned, talked, or legislated away- sometimes you have to use force.
ID: Hmm. I want to return to the idea that the prize was for Obama personally, and I want to read you, from Nobel’s will as according to wiki
S: Journalistic excellence at its zenith
ID: I’ll use a kryptonite gag on you; it should be awarded to the person who “during the preceding year [...] shall have done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses.” That actually… sounds about right. Or maybe it was just a crappy year for peace.
S: I can’t believe you’d threaten the infirm during a conversation about “peace.”
ID: And I don’t believe you’re that naïve- or that infirm, either.
S: Bantering aside, I coughed blood yesterday; actually, I’ve been coughing blood. There were pieces of lung tissue in it this time- I guess, honestly, there’s been lung tissue in it all along, but for the first time Lois noticed, that it wasn’t just blood coming out.
ID: I’m sorry.
S: That wasn’t why I mentioned it. In fact, I don’t really know why I mentioned it- just came to mind, and tumbled out. I guess I’m, losing my filter.
ID: How does that make you feel?
S: Worried. I come from Kansas. It’s not that Kansas is oppressive, there’s just a, a certain way you’re allowed to express yourself. And I’ve spent a lot of time adhering to that, because it was polite, and human, and I stress over the fact that maybe I’m going to be too sick to remember to be human. I’m terrified that the last feeling my wife, my friends, will have with me, is that I’m alien. I mean, I am an alien, but it would break my heart for the last moment I get to be one where my loved ones feel they don’t know me.
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.
ID: Why do you think you, and the rest of the Justice League, have never won a peace prize?
S: Honestly? A few reasons spring to mind. The first, though probably the least, is most of us have had at least some contact with outsiders- people society at large would consider “other,” be they aliens or reclusive island nations. I think no matter how much people may look up to us, respect us, there’s a certain amount of unease with that.
Second, look at the history: Anwar Sadat, Yasser Arafat, Kissinger- even giving it to Carter during Bush’s presidency. The Nobel Committee often uses the prize as a carrot, in the hopes of shaping international policy. In essence, the message was, “Keep up the diplomacy- and try not to bomb Cambodia.”
Third, we’re vigilantes. We are, under most national and international laws, operating unsanctioned. The Nobel Committee, under the auspices of the Norwegian government, could never be seen to official accept what we do. And there's a perception that we try to punch all our problems away.
Fourth- I’m actually surprised Diana doesn’t have one- as is Greg Rucka, apparently. She’s done extensive work for and with UNICEF and the International Committee of the Red Cross & Crescent- both of which have won at least one prize. She doesn’t often get the credit she’s due, but Bruce once paid for a study, and for every punch she throws she gives three speeches about peace, and for every speech she throws or attends some kind of charity benefit. Around her there’s sprung up this mythology of an Amazonian warrior woman, and frankly, it’s a very small part of who she is.
ID: Hmm. So do you think Obama deserved one?
S: I honestly don’t think it was aimed at Obama specifically; his election, on the platform he articulated, was made possible by the American people. I think it was a high profile way of saying to America, “Welcome back.”
ID: So you think internationally we’ve been
S: Absent. Yes. Absolutely. Off the reservation, at a minimum.
ID: Okay, but even allowing for a moment that the award was for the people generally, do you think we’ve earned it?
S: I think the hope is that we will. The hope is that America is back to the country who first proposed the League of Nations to the world, who were instrumental in the creation of the United Nations, who only reluctantly entered the world wars- not the bickering, antagonistic state who refused to join the original League, who did everything politically possible to hobble the UN, whose leader- ostensibly the leader of the free world- thumbed his nose at unilateralism and who seemed to those abroad to be, if not war hungry, at least peace-aversive.
ID: I’m reminded of a pair of your fellow do-gooders who seem awfully apt to the conversation, Dawn and Hank Hall- Hawk and Dove, to the action-figure buying kiddies in the audience.
S: Don’t believe everything you read about them. For one, Dawn’s always been a woman- she was never "Don" and they were never siblings. In the fictions it was felt at the time, and maybe rightly so, that liberals, already caricatured as weak, would be ill-served having a woman, equally caricatured as weak, as their figurehead. It added all kinds of sexual politics, as did their at-the-time budding romance, that weren’t exactly appropriate for the funny pages of the day, or paramount to the issues they were discussing.
But honestly, Dawn and Hank were a little before my time. I’ve worked with them, sure, but by the time I donned my first pair of tights, they had already been married for years, and were looking to retire. I think what worked for them, and why I think I’m glad you brought them up, is they learned the beauty of combining their ideologies, their strengths, and their efforts. I remember talking to the both of them during the presidential campaign last year, and Hank was very big into “Bomb, Bomb, Bomb, Bomb Bomb Iran,” but Dawn, very coolly, said that the Iranian people would suffer disproportionately from that, that diplomacy and sanctions should be tried first, but that if the Iranians couldn’t be convinced from the brink- which they both believe the Iranians are when it comes to the inseparable issues of Iranian nuclear policy and Israeli security- then she’d help strap Hank into the bomber of his choice. I think, and I think I’ve lived, that you really need to work for peace, with almost everything you have in you- but that some problems can’t be sanctioned, talked, or legislated away- sometimes you have to use force.
ID: Hmm. I want to return to the idea that the prize was for Obama personally, and I want to read you, from Nobel’s will as according to wiki
S: Journalistic excellence at its zenith
ID: I’ll use a kryptonite gag on you; it should be awarded to the person who “during the preceding year [...] shall have done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses.” That actually… sounds about right. Or maybe it was just a crappy year for peace.
S: I can’t believe you’d threaten the infirm during a conversation about “peace.”
ID: And I don’t believe you’re that naïve- or that infirm, either.
S: Bantering aside, I coughed blood yesterday; actually, I’ve been coughing blood. There were pieces of lung tissue in it this time- I guess, honestly, there’s been lung tissue in it all along, but for the first time Lois noticed, that it wasn’t just blood coming out.
ID: I’m sorry.
S: That wasn’t why I mentioned it. In fact, I don’t really know why I mentioned it- just came to mind, and tumbled out. I guess I’m, losing my filter.
ID: How does that make you feel?
S: Worried. I come from Kansas. It’s not that Kansas is oppressive, there’s just a, a certain way you’re allowed to express yourself. And I’ve spent a lot of time adhering to that, because it was polite, and human, and I stress over the fact that maybe I’m going to be too sick to remember to be human. I’m terrified that the last feeling my wife, my friends, will have with me, is that I’m alien. I mean, I am an alien, but it would break my heart for the last moment I get to be one where my loved ones feel they don’t know me.
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.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Death Penalty
Innocent Decapitation: I'd like to talk about the time you murdered three people.
Superman: You're an ass.
ID: I'm just going off of John Byrne's cue on this one.
S: Yeah, well he's a bit of an ass, too. You remember the incident with Barda- yeah, he hung that entirely around her neck- said something about her lacking the moral fortitude to resist, but for some reason gave me a pass.
ID: I’ll more than grant you that. But let's talk about the executions. Give me the background, because this is one of the subjects you and Lois haven't really written about to the extent you've discussed other, uh, events, for lack of a better term.
S: The story’s different than the one in the comic books. Zod, Ursula, and Non were originally leaders of a Kryptonian rebellion, and for their treason they were locked away. Ironically, because they were imprisoned, they were spared the fate of the rest of our race. But when they broke loose, they engaged in a campaign of genocide that spanned solar systems.
ID: I assume you’re not using the term “genocide” lightly.
S: I mean they destroyed entire planets teeming with life, including seven separate sentient species that had evolved to the point of written language. At least seven cultures- millions if not billions of intelligent lives- lost. And that was a single, small corner of the galaxy- and there are at least hundreds of similar nearby worlds that were in danger. I never invoke the term genocide lightly.
But to make a very long story shorter, I was eventually contacted by a group of Kryptonian colonists, and intervened. When I arrived, the colony had been massacred, women, children, the elderly- I didn’t see evidence that any of the colonists had even put up token resistance, let alone anything that would qualify them as combatants, but they were tortured, brutalized and worse.
And what happened then happened very fast. When I saw the damage, I immediately sped around the colony, looking for a survivor, someone I could still save- but there was no one. And Zod had seen me, and pointed me out to the others, and they rushed at me at a speed approaching light. The shockwave created by the collision nearly tore that planet in half- and that was just the beginning.
I fought them across worlds- across galaxies. The conflict destroyed dozens of uninhabited planets. And it became evident not only that as they gathered yellow solar radiation they would eventually eclipse my strength and win- but that their violence and fury would not end with me or the lives they’d already taken.
So I escaped and came up with a plan, a last, desperate gambit to use kryptonite. Specifically, I rigged powdered kryptonite to an explosive device, meant to scatter the element into the air. I set it off when they were all close enough for me to grab onto, and force them to stay, breathing it in. I think Zod realized it first, and screamed as the green dust enveloped him, tried to push off of me, tried to hold his breath; I jabbed him, hard, in the stomach, ground it in- and his reflex gasp brought in enough of the poison to kill him- albeit not immediately.
Ursula turned to me, and she understood from Zod what was happening, but understood, too, that fighting wouldn’t work. I was still stronger than them- though likely only for a few hours more. She touched my hand gently, and with tears in her eyes said, “Please, it doesn’t have to be this way.” Her mouth began to twitch, and she started to sob until her lungs were empty, but she held out, opened her eyes, pleading without being able to speak. But still I held her firm, and she collapsed to the ground; by that point I was too weak to hold her up, and I fell to my knee, and she started gasping in and sobbing.
And my hands were full, holding Zod in my right hand with Ursula in the left; I was certain if I let them go they’d try to run- and if they did I couldn’t be sure they’d die. I’d tried to wrap my legs around Non, but Non was larger, stronger- at least as strong as I was at that point. He’d pulled away- though I didn’t think he’d gotten out of the cloud.
Back on Krypton, Non had worked with my father, but unlike him, he had went against the council, and tried to warn people about the planet’s imminent destruction. For that “crime,” the council took away from him what had mattered most: his mind. My father told me that after his lobotomy he was barely functional, and the only part of his old friend he recognized in Non was his rage.
But I think there was more, maybe buried under his anger, and disappointment. Because Non came towards me in the cloud of green dust. I couldn’t have stopped him, couldn’t have even defended myself, but he nodded, and gave me a little smile, like he finally understood: why Zod’s rebellion had gone so wrong, how far from himself he must have been to go along, and crucially, how that lapsed judgment meant he could be compromised again- and the consequences of that. Then he took a deep breath in, and as he let it out he sat down on the ground, cross-legged, to wait to die.
And I honestly expected to die with them; I thought that was a fitting end. Except that I didn’t die. I laid there, on a desert planet’s surface, waiting for the dust to kill me, too. Even when the wind took the dust cloud away, I expected the kryptonite already in my lungs to kill me. And it hurt. In fact- I’ve felt that kind of pain, like breathing in glass, twice since- when Doomsday “killed” me, and now, with the cancer. But it didn’t kill me.
I passed into a, well, I think it was basically a coma. By the time I came to, the other three were dead. I decided to cremate them in one of that planet’s volcanoes, but they’re bodies had absorbed so much of the kryptonite that while carrying them I was virtually powerless. So I carried their bodies, one at a time, to the summit of the nearest volcano, which thankfully ended up being only a dozen kilometers away, and dropped them in. The kryptonite guaranteed that the chemical bonds in their cells were weak enough to break in the volcanic heat, and their bodies burned to ash.
ID: Were you at all concerned about the Kryptonians’ remains being used for something sinister?
S: The thought occurred to me. That’s why I kept the planet’s location a secret, up until I learned about the Green Lantern Corps. I took them to the planet, and they helped locate every last charred DNA molecule, so that it could be kept out of the wrong hands.
ID: And did all of this effect your stance on capital punishment?
S: I made the most difficult decision of my entire life that day, and it still haunts me. I took three lives, and it’s very little consolation that I did not take them lightly. Still, it was necessary, and it was right- and I hate that we live in a circumstance where that can be the case. But the reason it was necessary, and the reason it was right, was that there were no other viable options. There is no prison that would hold me-and once they’d absorbed yellow solar radiation, there was no prison that could hold them. There was no hope for peace, and no safety, not for anyone, while they still lived. Taking a life, it changes everything… and nothing.
When I got back to Earth, I wanted to quit. Retire. I told everyone who knew who I was that I was done. And I thought I was. Just thinking about what I’d done- what I’d had to do- it made me sick inside. And I was getting ready for work, I think I’d just gotten out of the shower, and I heard someone on the street whisper, “His bike won’t stop,” and a second later someone else say, “That bus is going to hit him.” And I could tell by the acoustics that it was coming from Southside, that long hill down towards the docks, and before I realized it I was flying there at full speed, my cape billowing behind me. There hadn’t even been a momentary thought, it just happened, I was doing it. And I scooped up the poor kid just before his bike went under one of those big city buses. Our trajectory took us a few hundred feet in the air, and he was terrified, scrambling like a cat to get out of my arms as his heart raced, so I asked, “What’s your name, son?” And that was when it hit him, that he hadn’t died and wouldn’t now, and he calmed immediately and told me: Jeremy Beckman. As I sat him back down on the sidewalk I said to him, “Jeremy Beckman, I think you saved my life today.”
ID: Are you okay? We can stop here if you’d like.
S: No, I… I really have been blessed with this life, I know that. Most people don’t get to, to see people express that kind of gratitude, and kindness. And every day is like that for me- has been like that for me- and I think that’s a special moment for me, because for that one brief moment, I realized that all this time, I hadn’t been saving other people- by giving me a purpose, they’d been saving me. I’ve had really dark times in my life, but every time I think I want to give up, something small and seemingly innocuous like that happens to make me realize life is worth it. And I’m going to miss it.
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: You're an ass.
ID: I'm just going off of John Byrne's cue on this one.
S: Yeah, well he's a bit of an ass, too. You remember the incident with Barda- yeah, he hung that entirely around her neck- said something about her lacking the moral fortitude to resist, but for some reason gave me a pass.
ID: I’ll more than grant you that. But let's talk about the executions. Give me the background, because this is one of the subjects you and Lois haven't really written about to the extent you've discussed other, uh, events, for lack of a better term.
S: The story’s different than the one in the comic books. Zod, Ursula, and Non were originally leaders of a Kryptonian rebellion, and for their treason they were locked away. Ironically, because they were imprisoned, they were spared the fate of the rest of our race. But when they broke loose, they engaged in a campaign of genocide that spanned solar systems.
ID: I assume you’re not using the term “genocide” lightly.
S: I mean they destroyed entire planets teeming with life, including seven separate sentient species that had evolved to the point of written language. At least seven cultures- millions if not billions of intelligent lives- lost. And that was a single, small corner of the galaxy- and there are at least hundreds of similar nearby worlds that were in danger. I never invoke the term genocide lightly.
But to make a very long story shorter, I was eventually contacted by a group of Kryptonian colonists, and intervened. When I arrived, the colony had been massacred, women, children, the elderly- I didn’t see evidence that any of the colonists had even put up token resistance, let alone anything that would qualify them as combatants, but they were tortured, brutalized and worse.
And what happened then happened very fast. When I saw the damage, I immediately sped around the colony, looking for a survivor, someone I could still save- but there was no one. And Zod had seen me, and pointed me out to the others, and they rushed at me at a speed approaching light. The shockwave created by the collision nearly tore that planet in half- and that was just the beginning.
I fought them across worlds- across galaxies. The conflict destroyed dozens of uninhabited planets. And it became evident not only that as they gathered yellow solar radiation they would eventually eclipse my strength and win- but that their violence and fury would not end with me or the lives they’d already taken.
So I escaped and came up with a plan, a last, desperate gambit to use kryptonite. Specifically, I rigged powdered kryptonite to an explosive device, meant to scatter the element into the air. I set it off when they were all close enough for me to grab onto, and force them to stay, breathing it in. I think Zod realized it first, and screamed as the green dust enveloped him, tried to push off of me, tried to hold his breath; I jabbed him, hard, in the stomach, ground it in- and his reflex gasp brought in enough of the poison to kill him- albeit not immediately.
Ursula turned to me, and she understood from Zod what was happening, but understood, too, that fighting wouldn’t work. I was still stronger than them- though likely only for a few hours more. She touched my hand gently, and with tears in her eyes said, “Please, it doesn’t have to be this way.” Her mouth began to twitch, and she started to sob until her lungs were empty, but she held out, opened her eyes, pleading without being able to speak. But still I held her firm, and she collapsed to the ground; by that point I was too weak to hold her up, and I fell to my knee, and she started gasping in and sobbing.
And my hands were full, holding Zod in my right hand with Ursula in the left; I was certain if I let them go they’d try to run- and if they did I couldn’t be sure they’d die. I’d tried to wrap my legs around Non, but Non was larger, stronger- at least as strong as I was at that point. He’d pulled away- though I didn’t think he’d gotten out of the cloud.
Back on Krypton, Non had worked with my father, but unlike him, he had went against the council, and tried to warn people about the planet’s imminent destruction. For that “crime,” the council took away from him what had mattered most: his mind. My father told me that after his lobotomy he was barely functional, and the only part of his old friend he recognized in Non was his rage.
But I think there was more, maybe buried under his anger, and disappointment. Because Non came towards me in the cloud of green dust. I couldn’t have stopped him, couldn’t have even defended myself, but he nodded, and gave me a little smile, like he finally understood: why Zod’s rebellion had gone so wrong, how far from himself he must have been to go along, and crucially, how that lapsed judgment meant he could be compromised again- and the consequences of that. Then he took a deep breath in, and as he let it out he sat down on the ground, cross-legged, to wait to die.
And I honestly expected to die with them; I thought that was a fitting end. Except that I didn’t die. I laid there, on a desert planet’s surface, waiting for the dust to kill me, too. Even when the wind took the dust cloud away, I expected the kryptonite already in my lungs to kill me. And it hurt. In fact- I’ve felt that kind of pain, like breathing in glass, twice since- when Doomsday “killed” me, and now, with the cancer. But it didn’t kill me.
I passed into a, well, I think it was basically a coma. By the time I came to, the other three were dead. I decided to cremate them in one of that planet’s volcanoes, but they’re bodies had absorbed so much of the kryptonite that while carrying them I was virtually powerless. So I carried their bodies, one at a time, to the summit of the nearest volcano, which thankfully ended up being only a dozen kilometers away, and dropped them in. The kryptonite guaranteed that the chemical bonds in their cells were weak enough to break in the volcanic heat, and their bodies burned to ash.
ID: Were you at all concerned about the Kryptonians’ remains being used for something sinister?
S: The thought occurred to me. That’s why I kept the planet’s location a secret, up until I learned about the Green Lantern Corps. I took them to the planet, and they helped locate every last charred DNA molecule, so that it could be kept out of the wrong hands.
ID: And did all of this effect your stance on capital punishment?
S: I made the most difficult decision of my entire life that day, and it still haunts me. I took three lives, and it’s very little consolation that I did not take them lightly. Still, it was necessary, and it was right- and I hate that we live in a circumstance where that can be the case. But the reason it was necessary, and the reason it was right, was that there were no other viable options. There is no prison that would hold me-and once they’d absorbed yellow solar radiation, there was no prison that could hold them. There was no hope for peace, and no safety, not for anyone, while they still lived. Taking a life, it changes everything… and nothing.
When I got back to Earth, I wanted to quit. Retire. I told everyone who knew who I was that I was done. And I thought I was. Just thinking about what I’d done- what I’d had to do- it made me sick inside. And I was getting ready for work, I think I’d just gotten out of the shower, and I heard someone on the street whisper, “His bike won’t stop,” and a second later someone else say, “That bus is going to hit him.” And I could tell by the acoustics that it was coming from Southside, that long hill down towards the docks, and before I realized it I was flying there at full speed, my cape billowing behind me. There hadn’t even been a momentary thought, it just happened, I was doing it. And I scooped up the poor kid just before his bike went under one of those big city buses. Our trajectory took us a few hundred feet in the air, and he was terrified, scrambling like a cat to get out of my arms as his heart raced, so I asked, “What’s your name, son?” And that was when it hit him, that he hadn’t died and wouldn’t now, and he calmed immediately and told me: Jeremy Beckman. As I sat him back down on the sidewalk I said to him, “Jeremy Beckman, I think you saved my life today.”
ID: Are you okay? We can stop here if you’d like.
S: No, I… I really have been blessed with this life, I know that. Most people don’t get to, to see people express that kind of gratitude, and kindness. And every day is like that for me- has been like that for me- and I think that’s a special moment for me, because for that one brief moment, I realized that all this time, I hadn’t been saving other people- by giving me a purpose, they’d been saving me. I’ve had really dark times in my life, but every time I think I want to give up, something small and seemingly innocuous like that happens to make me realize life is worth it. And I’m going to miss it.
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.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
S for Salacious
Indigo Ding-a-ling: Okay, so who’s your hero?
Superman: Um… you?
ID: No, but that’s a good guess. No, I’m told that Beneath the Cape will not be published. Ever. I’m told that the publishing house was bought out by a new company called Wayne Publishing, and also that a team of very rabid lawyers have descended upon the manuscript with claims of defamation, libel and slander. Now, last week you talked about your ability to sense lying, well try mine.
S: I… really didn’t know.
ID: Huh. You didn’t. Which actually does kind of make sense, seeing as I can still smell the pepto coming off your breath. Kidding, I can see the bottle sticking out of your bag, see the top isn’t zipped all the way.
But funnily enough, I came across Wayne Publishing’s parent company, Wayne Entertainment, the little we hiding under big WE, Wayne Enterprises', skirt. Their first division was Wayne Film, which you might recall popped up after yourself and, uh, “Big Barda”- God I hope that’s her proper name- made a “video.” It seems under the influence of someone called “Sleez” the two of you did some “acting.”
S: If you don’t stop doing air quotes I’ll take your fingers away.
ID: Heh. Your newfound ability to deadpan notwithstanding, I wasn’t finished. Apparently WE (the little WE) bought up the distribution rights as well as every extant print and proceeded to sit on them. I was speechless for like a day and a half; regardless of whatever influence you might have been under at the time- Spanish Fly, Barry White, maybe some hypnotic whatever- you did SuperPorn. We’re just going to take a moment, for you, myself, and the folks reading at home, to let that set in.
--------
And we’re back. But here’s the rub: I may have, in my search, discovered elements of the manuscript and/or movie that’s been rather unquietly swept under the table. Journalistic ethics dictate that I divulge this information, at least as far as it’s informative and not just salacious- though, because I am the man I am, that’s not a line I’m very good at sussing out. But I’ll offer a trade. You answer me truthfully about sex as part of today's interview segment, and I forget the things I know. Now I understand that a person’s sex life isn’t just their own, so, you don’t have to identify partners or their proclivities, but I want honesty, here. I’m more interested in the psychological implications than I am in the gooey details.
S: I think you’re lying.
ID: About the gooey details, a little, but I doubt the audience skews as pervy as I do personally.
S: I mean about having details. I think you’re bluffing.
ID: But you’re not sure- you can’t be sure. Because I may not know everything, but I know some things. So you’ll answer my questions. I’ll be gentle- after all, it’s your first time.
S: One caveat: you stop that.
ID: Fair enough. I think your history shows that you can have an imtimate relationship with a woman- so a far more interesting question is, given your physical differences- what’s sex like?
S: Are you asking about whether Kryptonian genitalia is analogous to human, or are you asking more generally?
ID: I can guess from the scornful way you said the first that it's a stupid question, so we'll go with option 2.
S: I can feel the ebb and flow of each oxygen and nitrogen atom across my skin as I cross a room. I can count the number of water molecules tumbling down my throat when I drink. When you see the world, you’re looking through a $30 children’s microscope; I see, feel, touch and experience everything at the magnification of an electron microscope. There’s really no way to express to you what it’s like, how it feels- you have no comparison that even parallels. I was curious once, myself, and J'onn showed me what being human was like telepathically, and the English language, even Kryptonese, fail to convey even in simplistic terms the gulf between our experiences.
ID: Okay. Given that, the fact that you look like a movie star- well, okay, Brandon Routh and Chris Reeves were both soap opera actors before they played you, but still, soap operas have pretty people on them, too- and the fact that you can leap small buildings with a single bound- how is it that you’re not a total whore?
S: I guess… my parents just raised me to believe in physical intimacy in a certain way. Growing up, I never even really imagined the idea of a carnal relationship outside the context of a romantic one. And really, by the time I reached an age and a point in my life where the thought could even really occur to me, I’d had other experiences that had taught me that I prefer romantic and physical monogamy.
ID: I’m going to give you a list. I’m not going to include any of the possibles I’ve come across, but we’ll keep it at the likelies: Lois obviously, Lana likely, Chloe definitely, Lori Lemaris- now that one you’re probably shocked I know about- Barda, Maxima, Cat Grant, Lyla Lerrol. I mean, you’re not a billionaire playboy, but still, respectable- especially since this is just the likelies. Care to deny?
S: No comment.
ID: And that is what we in the printed news industry call a non-denial. It’s like an admission, only more libelous. Still, you can usually print it so long as you mention the caveat. But on the subject of Maxima, why didn’t you ever just agree to give her a super baby?
S: It goes back to what I said about romantic relationships taking precedence over physical ones, because physically, Maxima and I were compatible, but personally- well, I don't even know about compatibility, because she never stopped dry-humping me and stood still long enough for us to have even a single meaningful conversation.
ID: And on the subject of super babies, you knocked up your wife a few years back. There are a lot of questions, really, so I'll let you just tell us how.
S: I'll skip the birds and bees part- that's pretty standard. Then there was, not getting too graphic, some “catch and release.” We talked about a turkey baster or getting help from a fertility clinic
ID: Wait, you intentionally got Lois pregnant?
S: Yeah. Absolutely. We were at a point where Lois wasn't fulfilled anymore as a reporter, and she was happy with our relationship, but she just wanted something else, too. Eventually she realized she wanted to be a mother. So we did a little research, and a little planning- and after just two tries, well- apparently we're both very fertile.
ID: Okay, so if you intended to get your wife pregnant, what happened to the baby?
S: Same thing that happened when you thought the pregnancy was unintended- Lois miscarried.
ID: Oh. And were there complications? Can she not have children now?
S: Nothing like that, no. She just... losing that first one. You know how that old saying goes, that it's better to try and fail than never to have tried at all? Well, for her at least, losing that first child was more horrible than anything she'd ever imagined. She told me it was like losing me, but worse, because she also lost a part of herself, too. And for the longest time she just felt empty inside. And I think she's come a long way since then, but I don't think it's a scar that ever really heals. I mean, maybe, if I'd lived a little longer, maybe we would have tried again sometime down the road.
ID: You're talking about yourself as if you were already dead.
S: Am I? Hmm. I guess in a way, I feel like I am. Lois and I finally had to go shopping. She was bursting into tears every time she saw me, and I finally got it out of her that she could handle watching me die, slowly withering away, but that my clothes, big and baggy like they were, they just reminded her too much of how far gone I already was. She just needed not to have it in front of her right now. And that was when it hit, when I was in a dressing room, trying on pants that wouldn't have fit me even in high school- that's when I realized that I don't think I'm getting out of this one- and I don't think I have that much time left. I'm actually scared by that.
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: Um… you?
ID: No, but that’s a good guess. No, I’m told that Beneath the Cape will not be published. Ever. I’m told that the publishing house was bought out by a new company called Wayne Publishing, and also that a team of very rabid lawyers have descended upon the manuscript with claims of defamation, libel and slander. Now, last week you talked about your ability to sense lying, well try mine.
S: I… really didn’t know.
ID: Huh. You didn’t. Which actually does kind of make sense, seeing as I can still smell the pepto coming off your breath. Kidding, I can see the bottle sticking out of your bag, see the top isn’t zipped all the way.
But funnily enough, I came across Wayne Publishing’s parent company, Wayne Entertainment, the little we hiding under big WE, Wayne Enterprises', skirt. Their first division was Wayne Film, which you might recall popped up after yourself and, uh, “Big Barda”- God I hope that’s her proper name- made a “video.” It seems under the influence of someone called “Sleez” the two of you did some “acting.”
S: If you don’t stop doing air quotes I’ll take your fingers away.
ID: Heh. Your newfound ability to deadpan notwithstanding, I wasn’t finished. Apparently WE (the little WE) bought up the distribution rights as well as every extant print and proceeded to sit on them. I was speechless for like a day and a half; regardless of whatever influence you might have been under at the time- Spanish Fly, Barry White, maybe some hypnotic whatever- you did SuperPorn. We’re just going to take a moment, for you, myself, and the folks reading at home, to let that set in.
--------
And we’re back. But here’s the rub: I may have, in my search, discovered elements of the manuscript and/or movie that’s been rather unquietly swept under the table. Journalistic ethics dictate that I divulge this information, at least as far as it’s informative and not just salacious- though, because I am the man I am, that’s not a line I’m very good at sussing out. But I’ll offer a trade. You answer me truthfully about sex as part of today's interview segment, and I forget the things I know. Now I understand that a person’s sex life isn’t just their own, so, you don’t have to identify partners or their proclivities, but I want honesty, here. I’m more interested in the psychological implications than I am in the gooey details.
S: I think you’re lying.
ID: About the gooey details, a little, but I doubt the audience skews as pervy as I do personally.
S: I mean about having details. I think you’re bluffing.
ID: But you’re not sure- you can’t be sure. Because I may not know everything, but I know some things. So you’ll answer my questions. I’ll be gentle- after all, it’s your first time.
S: One caveat: you stop that.
ID: Fair enough. I think your history shows that you can have an imtimate relationship with a woman- so a far more interesting question is, given your physical differences- what’s sex like?
S: Are you asking about whether Kryptonian genitalia is analogous to human, or are you asking more generally?
ID: I can guess from the scornful way you said the first that it's a stupid question, so we'll go with option 2.
S: I can feel the ebb and flow of each oxygen and nitrogen atom across my skin as I cross a room. I can count the number of water molecules tumbling down my throat when I drink. When you see the world, you’re looking through a $30 children’s microscope; I see, feel, touch and experience everything at the magnification of an electron microscope. There’s really no way to express to you what it’s like, how it feels- you have no comparison that even parallels. I was curious once, myself, and J'onn showed me what being human was like telepathically, and the English language, even Kryptonese, fail to convey even in simplistic terms the gulf between our experiences.
ID: Okay. Given that, the fact that you look like a movie star- well, okay, Brandon Routh and Chris Reeves were both soap opera actors before they played you, but still, soap operas have pretty people on them, too- and the fact that you can leap small buildings with a single bound- how is it that you’re not a total whore?
S: I guess… my parents just raised me to believe in physical intimacy in a certain way. Growing up, I never even really imagined the idea of a carnal relationship outside the context of a romantic one. And really, by the time I reached an age and a point in my life where the thought could even really occur to me, I’d had other experiences that had taught me that I prefer romantic and physical monogamy.
ID: I’m going to give you a list. I’m not going to include any of the possibles I’ve come across, but we’ll keep it at the likelies: Lois obviously, Lana likely, Chloe definitely, Lori Lemaris- now that one you’re probably shocked I know about- Barda, Maxima, Cat Grant, Lyla Lerrol. I mean, you’re not a billionaire playboy, but still, respectable- especially since this is just the likelies. Care to deny?
S: No comment.
ID: And that is what we in the printed news industry call a non-denial. It’s like an admission, only more libelous. Still, you can usually print it so long as you mention the caveat. But on the subject of Maxima, why didn’t you ever just agree to give her a super baby?
S: It goes back to what I said about romantic relationships taking precedence over physical ones, because physically, Maxima and I were compatible, but personally- well, I don't even know about compatibility, because she never stopped dry-humping me and stood still long enough for us to have even a single meaningful conversation.
ID: And on the subject of super babies, you knocked up your wife a few years back. There are a lot of questions, really, so I'll let you just tell us how.
S: I'll skip the birds and bees part- that's pretty standard. Then there was, not getting too graphic, some “catch and release.” We talked about a turkey baster or getting help from a fertility clinic
ID: Wait, you intentionally got Lois pregnant?
S: Yeah. Absolutely. We were at a point where Lois wasn't fulfilled anymore as a reporter, and she was happy with our relationship, but she just wanted something else, too. Eventually she realized she wanted to be a mother. So we did a little research, and a little planning- and after just two tries, well- apparently we're both very fertile.
ID: Okay, so if you intended to get your wife pregnant, what happened to the baby?
S: Same thing that happened when you thought the pregnancy was unintended- Lois miscarried.
ID: Oh. And were there complications? Can she not have children now?
S: Nothing like that, no. She just... losing that first one. You know how that old saying goes, that it's better to try and fail than never to have tried at all? Well, for her at least, losing that first child was more horrible than anything she'd ever imagined. She told me it was like losing me, but worse, because she also lost a part of herself, too. And for the longest time she just felt empty inside. And I think she's come a long way since then, but I don't think it's a scar that ever really heals. I mean, maybe, if I'd lived a little longer, maybe we would have tried again sometime down the road.
ID: You're talking about yourself as if you were already dead.
S: Am I? Hmm. I guess in a way, I feel like I am. Lois and I finally had to go shopping. She was bursting into tears every time she saw me, and I finally got it out of her that she could handle watching me die, slowly withering away, but that my clothes, big and baggy like they were, they just reminded her too much of how far gone I already was. She just needed not to have it in front of her right now. And that was when it hit, when I was in a dressing room, trying on pants that wouldn't have fit me even in high school- that's when I realized that I don't think I'm getting out of this one- and I don't think I have that much time left. I'm actually scared by that.
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.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Too Sexy For His S
Indiscreet Dialectic: I want to ask you about a new tell-all book I’ve heard about, called Beneath the Cape. Have you heard about it, have any idea what it’s about?
Superman: Yes.
ID: Okay, fine, if you prefer to play the stoic card, I’ll describe it for our Googling public: it’s about your sex life, techniques, quirks, endowments. Maybe a better question would be: is it true?
S: I suppose it would make sense to quote a former president: “I did not have sexual relations with that woman.”
ID: That’s a passable Arkansas, actually, but as I understand it, the author isn’t claiming that you had sex with her per se, just that she’s privy to information about your, um, escapades. What about that?
S: It’s certainly possible. Look, it’s a strange world. I can fly, and survive being shot with- well, anything I’ve been shot with so far. One of my best friends can read minds and change his shape to anything he can think of this side of an M.C. Escher sketch. Bruce dated a woman who could do real, honest-to-God magic, including making Plastic Man spend a month as a chicken. Which is to say nothing of the various technological methods of spying. So I’m not prepared to categorically deny ever having sex ever- but I can state unequivocally that no one I’ve been intimate with has ever spoken with the author of the book.
ID: I can’t help but note you’re being coy about her name.
S: Oh, I know who she is, but because I think breaking her anonymity could potentially expose her to harm from some, uh, overly enthusiastic supporters, I’m not going to out her, not to you or anyone else.
ID: But is she someone you know, someone from your past?
S: You know, that’s not a terrible question. I’ve known a hell of a lot of reporters and writers in my time, but actually no, she’s not someone I’ve known- there’s no personal angle here, at least not that I’ve uncovered.
ID: So it’s not Chloe Sullivan?
S: Uh, no- I’d, uh, heard that rumor, too, actually. And before I found out who it really was, I talked to Chloe, and no- it isn’t her.
ID: And you believe her?
S: I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this anywhere before, but I can hear extraordinarily well. Like, I can her your pulse increase when you’re worried about lying to me- or just pissing me off. I can hear the chemical reaction of neurons firing in the portion of the brain responsible for creative thought- as opposed to simple memory retrieval. So when Chloe said it wasn’t her, wasn’t anything to do with her, I believed her.
ID: And did the two of you talk about anything else?
S: We caught up a little. I think she’s doing better. Feeling happier. And I’m thankful for that. Being a part of my life hasn’t always been pleasant for Chloe, and I know more than anyone the price she’s sometimes paid for our association, but despite a lot of things, I still consider her one of my oldest friends.
ID: Isn’t the expression usually oldest and dearest?
S: I’d prefer not to air this here, but Chloe and I have had tension, and those who know know what I mean, and those who don’t have no reason or right to. I’ve forgiven her for the things she’s done against me, and I hope she’s forgiven me for the times I caused her pain. Our past has left some… trust issues, but I really, truly and honestly, wish her all the happiness in the world.
ID: You do realize that all of this spirited whispering about your checkered dalliances just means next week I’ll come back with harder questions, right?
S: Actually, no, I don’t think it will. There are a handful of people who know about this. My mother, myself, Chloe, Lois
ID: So you and your usual knitting circle
S: and none of them are going to say a word to you about it. Because it’s private. Because, really, it’s between Chloe and me- emotional spillover onto mom and my wife notwithstanding.
ID: Okay, this is beginning to bore me- due to the very g-rated content- the book. How much of it is true, and, more importantly, how long before lifetime (or maybe Playgirl) come out with their own direct to video version?
S: Try as I might, I haven’t been able to get an advanced copy, or even anything as to the specifics of what’s in it. I’m honestly a little disappointed that, at this stage in my life and career, I’m having to deal with it.
ID: That’s fair. But you said you were confident no one you’d been intimate with had spoken to the author. Now I remember you discussing a premarital relationship- that I previously theorized was with Lana Lang but could potentially have been with the aforementioned Ms. Sullivan- so not just the one with your wife that you’ve sort of tacitly acknowledged, but is there any chance you’d be willing to slip me the names, even off the record, so I could do some independent verification.
S: Sometimes you’re no better than a tabloid journalist. To clarify, I don’t mean the near respectability of British tabloid journalism, I mean the scummiest, “Did Anna Nicole Smith gain more weight?” kind of journalism, where they have fuzzy zoomed in pictures with big colorful circles pointing out cellulite.
ID: Hmm. Lot of misdirected anger, there (though my inner child is weeping openly). Did the bad paparazzi man touch you in your spandex-place?
S: Mostly, I think it’s that as a journalist, that kind of reportage disgusts me, and as someone who was raised to treat people with a certain base amount of respect- professional ethics shouldn’t even come into play, because it’s just morally wrong. But you’re right. This book is the culmination, actually, of something that’s been happening more lately- though I’ve been in my share of National Enquirers before. I was prepared for people reacting differently to me, I knew that revealing who I was and that I was dying, that that would affect people in a real way. But I wasn’t prepared for this, for the opportunists with cameras hiding in the bushes outside our apartment, the office, my doctor’s. I’m just trying to hold onto my dignity, at this point. And it’s hard, when there are people that insistent on wresting it away from you.
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: Yes.
ID: Okay, fine, if you prefer to play the stoic card, I’ll describe it for our Googling public: it’s about your sex life, techniques, quirks, endowments. Maybe a better question would be: is it true?
S: I suppose it would make sense to quote a former president: “I did not have sexual relations with that woman.”
ID: That’s a passable Arkansas, actually, but as I understand it, the author isn’t claiming that you had sex with her per se, just that she’s privy to information about your, um, escapades. What about that?
S: It’s certainly possible. Look, it’s a strange world. I can fly, and survive being shot with- well, anything I’ve been shot with so far. One of my best friends can read minds and change his shape to anything he can think of this side of an M.C. Escher sketch. Bruce dated a woman who could do real, honest-to-God magic, including making Plastic Man spend a month as a chicken. Which is to say nothing of the various technological methods of spying. So I’m not prepared to categorically deny ever having sex ever- but I can state unequivocally that no one I’ve been intimate with has ever spoken with the author of the book.
ID: I can’t help but note you’re being coy about her name.
S: Oh, I know who she is, but because I think breaking her anonymity could potentially expose her to harm from some, uh, overly enthusiastic supporters, I’m not going to out her, not to you or anyone else.
ID: But is she someone you know, someone from your past?
S: You know, that’s not a terrible question. I’ve known a hell of a lot of reporters and writers in my time, but actually no, she’s not someone I’ve known- there’s no personal angle here, at least not that I’ve uncovered.
ID: So it’s not Chloe Sullivan?
S: Uh, no- I’d, uh, heard that rumor, too, actually. And before I found out who it really was, I talked to Chloe, and no- it isn’t her.
ID: And you believe her?
S: I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this anywhere before, but I can hear extraordinarily well. Like, I can her your pulse increase when you’re worried about lying to me- or just pissing me off. I can hear the chemical reaction of neurons firing in the portion of the brain responsible for creative thought- as opposed to simple memory retrieval. So when Chloe said it wasn’t her, wasn’t anything to do with her, I believed her.
ID: And did the two of you talk about anything else?
S: We caught up a little. I think she’s doing better. Feeling happier. And I’m thankful for that. Being a part of my life hasn’t always been pleasant for Chloe, and I know more than anyone the price she’s sometimes paid for our association, but despite a lot of things, I still consider her one of my oldest friends.
ID: Isn’t the expression usually oldest and dearest?
S: I’d prefer not to air this here, but Chloe and I have had tension, and those who know know what I mean, and those who don’t have no reason or right to. I’ve forgiven her for the things she’s done against me, and I hope she’s forgiven me for the times I caused her pain. Our past has left some… trust issues, but I really, truly and honestly, wish her all the happiness in the world.
ID: You do realize that all of this spirited whispering about your checkered dalliances just means next week I’ll come back with harder questions, right?
S: Actually, no, I don’t think it will. There are a handful of people who know about this. My mother, myself, Chloe, Lois
ID: So you and your usual knitting circle
S: and none of them are going to say a word to you about it. Because it’s private. Because, really, it’s between Chloe and me- emotional spillover onto mom and my wife notwithstanding.
ID: Okay, this is beginning to bore me- due to the very g-rated content- the book. How much of it is true, and, more importantly, how long before lifetime (or maybe Playgirl) come out with their own direct to video version?
S: Try as I might, I haven’t been able to get an advanced copy, or even anything as to the specifics of what’s in it. I’m honestly a little disappointed that, at this stage in my life and career, I’m having to deal with it.
ID: That’s fair. But you said you were confident no one you’d been intimate with had spoken to the author. Now I remember you discussing a premarital relationship- that I previously theorized was with Lana Lang but could potentially have been with the aforementioned Ms. Sullivan- so not just the one with your wife that you’ve sort of tacitly acknowledged, but is there any chance you’d be willing to slip me the names, even off the record, so I could do some independent verification.
S: Sometimes you’re no better than a tabloid journalist. To clarify, I don’t mean the near respectability of British tabloid journalism, I mean the scummiest, “Did Anna Nicole Smith gain more weight?” kind of journalism, where they have fuzzy zoomed in pictures with big colorful circles pointing out cellulite.
ID: Hmm. Lot of misdirected anger, there (though my inner child is weeping openly). Did the bad paparazzi man touch you in your spandex-place?
S: Mostly, I think it’s that as a journalist, that kind of reportage disgusts me, and as someone who was raised to treat people with a certain base amount of respect- professional ethics shouldn’t even come into play, because it’s just morally wrong. But you’re right. This book is the culmination, actually, of something that’s been happening more lately- though I’ve been in my share of National Enquirers before. I was prepared for people reacting differently to me, I knew that revealing who I was and that I was dying, that that would affect people in a real way. But I wasn’t prepared for this, for the opportunists with cameras hiding in the bushes outside our apartment, the office, my doctor’s. I’m just trying to hold onto my dignity, at this point. And it’s hard, when there are people that insistent on wresting it away from you.
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.
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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