Wednesday, February 11, 2004

Don’t Tug on Superman’s Cape

Sometimes I think about things that no one else really cares about. This is one of those occasions.

What’s on my mind? Well, it occurred to me this morning (probably because I’m wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with Superman’s crest) that humanity is really lucky that Superman has a generally good disposition.

I’m not talking about him being good versus evil. That’s trite. I’m talking about the fact that we’re lucky he doesn’t have hissy fits.

Think about it. Here’s a man who is virtually indestructible, can fly, shoot heat out of his eyes, see through walls, crush things with his bare hands, and, generally, can do things I can’t do but wish I could. Especially in a meeting.

“Gary, what do you think about this plan?”

“I can melt the table with my eyes.”

“Great. Okay, everyone agreed that Gary is a moron?”

Now, nothing stops Superman except beings from other dimensions or planets. Given the improbability that Superman could have these amazing powers in the first place, and the imporobility that another being with equally great powers could harm him, or a tiny rock from his home planet, we’re pretty screwed.

So, let’s just say that the dust in our atmosphere wreaks havoc with Supe’s Kryptonian sinuses. It’s going to put him in a bad mood. One sneeze alone could wipe out a whole city. But, he soldiers on.

But what if he didn’t? What if he just decided, “screw these puny humans” and just went nutso? What if, one day, Lois Lane dumped him and he got drunk? I’ve seen normal humans do some crazy things while drunk and heartbroken. But someone with super powers? Oh hell, we’re screwed.

One false move and Superman fries your cat, spies on your wife getting dressed and crushes your car. One day he’s your friend, welding your leaky pipe with his eyes and the next day your house is a smoldering ruin.

And really, it’s naïve to think his loyalties can’t be bought and sold. Give him a shot an American Idol and he’ll probably become as cut throat as the next guy. In fact, I’m surprised the guy doesn’t have a prima Dona complex.

“I saved the world. Give me all the Eddy’s Ice Cream I desire! And I want the runners up from the Bachelor as my harem.”

In fact, why did we trust this guy in the first place? Screw the bastard. He’s dangerous. I don’t want him around. He may be unbalanced. I may be unbalanced. We’re all unbalanced. Why have we never considered that he defies the laws of physics? What about his physiology? Why can he breathe in space? Underwater? Maybe he’s a plant designed to get our trust and then just lay waste to all of us.

Go away Superman. You’re not welcome here. We’ll take our chances with Batman. At least he has a cool cowl and a better cape.

Ahhhhhh. The medication just kicked in. Take me away Thorozine!

Discuss

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