And thus we bid adieu to Superman. Forever.
If you weren't reading comic books in 1993, you have no clue how sad we all were that we were going to be losing Superman forever. Every essay I wrote in college revolved around the Death of Superman and what it meant for every American from here on out. Didn't I? Maybe I just mentioned it once in one of my memoir papers entitled "Within the Dream of the Sleeping Red King". Also my friend Brent assures me that I was nearly inconsolable that my nephew would grow up in a world without a Superman. Maybe I said that because I was feeling so sentimental about my one year old nephew but I surely didn't say that because I gave a fuck about Superman, as evidenced by the fact that I own, pre-New-52, about a dozen Superman comic books. That's not counting nearly the entire run of DC Comics Presents because I didn't collect that for Superman! I collected it for the guest stars and, only discovering it after the fact, Ambush Bug. What I'm trying to say is we weren't a cynical lot of bitter bastards! We took DC at their word that they were killing Superman and that everything would be different after that! It was a sad and terrible time.
Also, I might have had several concussions from downhill biking accidents between 1993 and now which have muddied my memories of the time. It's possible I'm getting the death of Disco confused with the death of Superman.
Before I begin discussing this issue, just a quick update on my Infinite Jest read. One of the things I always do when I'm trying to understand a text is figure out why the book was called what it was called and why the characters are named the way they are. And while Infinite Jest was obviously a reference to Yorick from Hamlet, I wasn't sure why it was chosen as the name of the text and James Incandenza's name for his ultimately deadly Entertainment. I had been discussing it with the Non-Certified Spouse over dinner a day or two ago and later that night, the book simply explained it pretty fucking matter-of-factly to me. The father of Hal Incandenza (if, at railroad spike, we were forced to choose a protagonist among the many characters, it would certainly be Hal. But without a threat of hearing the squeak, I'm choosing to believe this text is anti-protagonist), who de-mapped himself by putting his head in a microwave oven, created his deadly entertainment to try to make his child, whom he saw suffering more and more from anhedonia and disassociation from the world and others, happy. The entertainment, or Hal's father, was the jester, Yorick, full of infinite jest, trying to pull his son out of his spiraling depression and separation from the world. So while I've been meaning to dive back into the world of Shakespeare (being that I've lugged that six pound book of the collected works of Shakespeare around my entire life, having purchased it in college), I sort of have to probably read Hamlet next. Mostly because of Infinite Jest but also because of Station Eleven which I should re-watch around the same time (and, probably, read the actual book).
I've also been reading Stephard Bachking's The Long Walk which I haven't read since 1986 or so. The only things I remember (or think I remember since I haven't gotten to them in this re-read yet) are when the main character Ray needs to take a crap under the threat of being shot if he takes too long and how he goes fucking nuts at the end of the story (probably not a spoiler for the movie because they'll probably change 85% of the book). But what keeps going through my head as I read it this time is this: "Is this Stephen King's more vulgar and dumbed down version of "Night-Sea Journey" by John Barth?" My current hypothesis is "I'm pretty fucking sure it is" but you'll have to wait for my full review on Goodreads when I finish it. By the way, I highly recommend "Night-Sea Journey" and most of the rest of John Barth's Lost in the Funhouse. I say "most of the rest" because I know not everybody enjoys the kind of tangled stories that I enjoy. It's not like I go around recommending Gertrude Stein to anybody else no matter how much I adore her. I am acquainted with the limits of status quo brains for their entertainments.
And then I opened this comic book to the first page and, by golly, even at 53, I have discovered I can spontaneously ejaculate!
Also, I might have had several concussions from downhill biking accidents between 1993 and now which have muddied my memories of the time. It's possible I'm getting the death of Disco confused with the death of Superman.
Before I begin discussing this issue, just a quick update on my Infinite Jest read. One of the things I always do when I'm trying to understand a text is figure out why the book was called what it was called and why the characters are named the way they are. And while Infinite Jest was obviously a reference to Yorick from Hamlet, I wasn't sure why it was chosen as the name of the text and James Incandenza's name for his ultimately deadly Entertainment. I had been discussing it with the Non-Certified Spouse over dinner a day or two ago and later that night, the book simply explained it pretty fucking matter-of-factly to me. The father of Hal Incandenza (if, at railroad spike, we were forced to choose a protagonist among the many characters, it would certainly be Hal. But without a threat of hearing the squeak, I'm choosing to believe this text is anti-protagonist), who de-mapped himself by putting his head in a microwave oven, created his deadly entertainment to try to make his child, whom he saw suffering more and more from anhedonia and disassociation from the world and others, happy. The entertainment, or Hal's father, was the jester, Yorick, full of infinite jest, trying to pull his son out of his spiraling depression and separation from the world. So while I've been meaning to dive back into the world of Shakespeare (being that I've lugged that six pound book of the collected works of Shakespeare around my entire life, having purchased it in college), I sort of have to probably read Hamlet next. Mostly because of Infinite Jest but also because of Station Eleven which I should re-watch around the same time (and, probably, read the actual book).
I've also been reading Stephard Bachking's The Long Walk which I haven't read since 1986 or so. The only things I remember (or think I remember since I haven't gotten to them in this re-read yet) are when the main character Ray needs to take a crap under the threat of being shot if he takes too long and how he goes fucking nuts at the end of the story (probably not a spoiler for the movie because they'll probably change 85% of the book). But what keeps going through my head as I read it this time is this: "Is this Stephen King's more vulgar and dumbed down version of "Night-Sea Journey" by John Barth?" My current hypothesis is "I'm pretty fucking sure it is" but you'll have to wait for my full review on Goodreads when I finish it. By the way, I highly recommend "Night-Sea Journey" and most of the rest of John Barth's Lost in the Funhouse. I say "most of the rest" because I know not everybody enjoys the kind of tangled stories that I enjoy. It's not like I go around recommending Gertrude Stein to anybody else no matter how much I adore her. I am acquainted with the limits of status quo brains for their entertainments.
And then I opened this comic book to the first page and, by golly, even at 53, I have discovered I can spontaneously ejaculate!
Enough about my literary inclinations; here's some man nipples and a mention of my ejaculate!
I'm not one of those people who desperately need to figure out if somebody is trans or not; accepting a person as they present themselves is (and should be!) the be all and end all of how we interact with each other. But (oh no! He said but!), that being said, Lex Luthor is a fictional comic book character (whom I should be able to speculate on wildly) who just had his mind transplanted inside a cloned body. Lex presents himself as male because that's what he is. My hypothesis is that the clone his brain was put into was female that has had top surgery (and possibly bottom surgery but that's not my fucking business. Besides, he's fucking a mass of shifting, sexless cells, so he can basically be packing anything down there and Supergirl can just make whatever genitals will most please Lex (even a toaster, I guess?)) and is taking hormones to maintain his presented masculine traits. Why would I even consider this? Well, the luscious nipples and fabulous hair were my first clue but men often have amazing nipples and hair as well so it didn't have me wondering at all. Wondering about my sexuality, sure! But not about Lex's gender. What made me suspect Luthor's brain was placed inside a woman's body was this:
Look at those dainty feet! And the limberness!
I'm more than certain that Dan Jurgens can draw feet reasonably well so this has to be purposeful! And those delicate, scrumptious feet aren't a mistake because they exist in more than one panel.
They're so cute and delicate!
Sure, maybe Lex just has tiny feet. Maybe Dan Jurgens was having a weird foot day. But it's also possible Lex Luthor II's brain was placed in a female body. Or a cloned body drawn by Rob Liefeld.
Even weirder than Lex's miniscule little lady feet though is Lois's choice of outfit.
Even weirder than Lex's miniscule little lady feet though is Lois's choice of outfit.
Is this Lois Lane or David Byrne?
Lois has dropped by to tell Lex that Cadmus has Superman's body, as if he didn't already know. He acts as if he didn't already know but that's because he's a manipulative little prick who can never give the slightest hint about his hand to anybody at the poker table. Lois, also a manipulative little bitch, pretends she's going to publish a story about it but she really just wants Lex Luthor to destroy Cadmus. She's afraid printing the story would kill one or both of the Kents. Ha ha! If only she knew her previous story has already done that!
I don't know whose toes I'd suck first!
Pa Kent doesn't die which is probably good because I laughed at him face down on the cover of Superman The Man of Steel #21 so many times that people might suspect I'd feel bad. I can't have people suspecting things that aren't possible so I'm glad Jonathan has pulled through. Although it was weird that Pa didn't respond to any of the medical treatment for his cardiac arrest until they ripped his shirt open to expose his old man nipples and then he jolted awake with a "Clark!" That's just an observation. I'm not suggesting anything untoward or kinky.
Later in the women's locker room at LexCorps, Sasha, the martial arts trainer from earlier who knocked Lex off his tiny feet, has a mysterious encounter with a mysterious person who can't be Lex Luthor because Dan Jurgens totally sets it up to be Lex Luthor.
Later in the women's locker room at LexCorps, Sasha, the martial arts trainer from earlier who knocked Lex off his tiny feet, has a mysterious encounter with a mysterious person who can't be Lex Luthor because Dan Jurgens totally sets it up to be Lex Luthor.
You can tell I really wanted to concentrate on the dialogue in this encounter because I left out the previous panel where Sasha is topless.
No men around LexCorps? So, like, if Lex had to clone a body for his brain, it would probably have to be female? And, if this is Lex, just like a villainous piece of shit Republican, he's all, "Being that I'm a male brain inside a female body, I have a right to be in either changing room and I'm going to use that fact for nefarious purposes! Ah ha ha ha ha!" But that's just dumb speculation because this obviously isn't Lex killing Sasha. This murderer being revealed as Lex has as much chance as the island on Lost having been purgatory!
Oh, what the hell! Here's Sasha's tits!
Also, Lex admits to killing Sasha before the end of the comic book so I guess the island in Lost was purgatory! I mean, at least until the writers decided it wasn't because too many people guessed that it was. Just like when everybody guessed Monarch was Captain Atom so DC decided Monarch was actually Hawk! So dumb!
Also also, Pa dies at the end. And it's way less funny than when he died in the field on that cover. Ha ha! That looked so silly!
Also also also, Supergirl retrieves Superman's body and she, Lex, and Lois return him to his crypt inside a new coffin, probably created by Lex to suck out the last of Supe's powers or some other weird shit.
Also also also also, some good news: I don't think I have any more Superman comic books to read! Yay! The bad news? I'm going to be reading more Gerard Jones' comic books soon. Boo! Hiss! Just to clarify, I'm booing and hissing because he's a convicted sex pest and not because he's a terrible writer. His comics are always top notch! Now if I were booing and hissing about Scott Lobdell, it would be because his writing was terrible and not because he's been convicted of being a sex pest. I'm not saying he is one! But I'm also saying you can't prove a negative. So, you know. Shrug!
Superman #77 Rating: C. So, in the end, Superman died forever and we never saw the likes of him again. At least for about seven months or so. During those months, I bought a lot of Magic the Gathering cards to salve my emotional turmoil and often wept for my poor nephew's non-Superman future! So sad! Then when Superman returned, my main reaction was, "Thank God they didn't bring Jason Todd back! I hope he stays dead forever!" But you know how that ended too: me buying even more Magic the Gathering cards to salve my emotional turmoil and constantly weeping for my poor nephew's non-non-Jason Todd future. Stupid Judd Winick!
Also also, Pa dies at the end. And it's way less funny than when he died in the field on that cover. Ha ha! That looked so silly!
Also also also, Supergirl retrieves Superman's body and she, Lex, and Lois return him to his crypt inside a new coffin, probably created by Lex to suck out the last of Supe's powers or some other weird shit.
Also also also also, some good news: I don't think I have any more Superman comic books to read! Yay! The bad news? I'm going to be reading more Gerard Jones' comic books soon. Boo! Hiss! Just to clarify, I'm booing and hissing because he's a convicted sex pest and not because he's a terrible writer. His comics are always top notch! Now if I were booing and hissing about Scott Lobdell, it would be because his writing was terrible and not because he's been convicted of being a sex pest. I'm not saying he is one! But I'm also saying you can't prove a negative. So, you know. Shrug!
Superman #77 Rating: C. So, in the end, Superman died forever and we never saw the likes of him again. At least for about seven months or so. During those months, I bought a lot of Magic the Gathering cards to salve my emotional turmoil and often wept for my poor nephew's non-Superman future! So sad! Then when Superman returned, my main reaction was, "Thank God they didn't bring Jason Todd back! I hope he stays dead forever!" But you know how that ended too: me buying even more Magic the Gathering cards to salve my emotional turmoil and constantly weeping for my poor nephew's non-non-Jason Todd future. Stupid Judd Winick!
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