I've now seen Superman Returns, and it sucks, just like I expected it would. Though, to be fair, I expect most things to suck, so this indicates no special prediction on my part. However, most of my pre-viewing complaints were proven completely accurate.

Sure, Routh does a fine job of impersonating Christopher Reeve, and Spacey makes a passable Gene Hackman. Too bad they were playing Superman and Lex Luthor instead. The rest of the cast seemed almost carelessly chosen. Bosworth's Lois is way too young and entirely too emotional. (Note to all future actresses who want to portray Lois: see Jennifer Jason Leigh in The Hudsucker Proxy and emulate that. THAT's Lois Lane.) Langella's Perry White and Marsden's Richard White both lacked substance, but it could have just been poor scripting. Everything else was. And that's what tanked this baby.

The producers of the movie would have done well to follow the old entertainment maxim, "give 'em what they want." Superman is nearly 70 years old and has profitably appeared on popular radio, television, and movie programs for decades. Why now did they decide to modify the costume and give him a child? They didn't update Jimmy (other than giving him a digital camera) or Perry, Smallville or Ma Kent. No, the one thing that they shouldn't have changed is the one thing that they messed up. Here's a hint for the next film, Singer: if it ain't broke, keep your damn hands off it.

Stop reading now if you don't want spoilers to the movie.

The universal gripe with the movie is Lois' child. Just as every real human being can tell that Clark Kent and Superman are the same person, every real audience goer can tell that the child is Clark's long before the "big reveal" when the child KILLS SOMEONE. The mere presence of this child completely ruins the story of the film, presenting an insurmountable obstacle to the necessary suspension of disbelief required to enjoy any fictional film, especially one with flying men.

First of all, I refuse to believe that Clark Kent would leave the planet Earth after having unprotected sex with Lois Lane before confirming that she was not pregnant. I don't know one American male who has had unprotected sex who hasn't at least briefly worried about the possibility of unwanted pregnancy. (It's the American Protestant upbringing, I suspect.) Even though he's an alien, I don't think Superman is that different from other Americans in that respect. I know that church-going Pa Kent gave young Clark the Birds-and-the-Bees story at least once, so I'm pretty sure that Clark knew the consequences of a wild night out with Little Superman in the driver's seat.

Since this film is built on the stories of Superman and Superman II, it is perfectly reasonable to suppose that Superman could have knocked up Lois during the hours when he was powerless during Superman II. And under post-Crisis on Infinite Earths continuity, Superman didn't gain his powers until adolescence, saving Lois from any mortal wounds while carrying the super-sired child. This certainly bypasses the potential difficulty of super-sperm as related in Larry Niven's infamous essay. But I still say the Superman that I was weaned on would have checked in on the action in Lois' womb once his powers returned before departing for the remains of Krypton. It would have been the right thing to do. He would simultaneously be easing his own guilty mind while confirming his beloved Lois' state of health before abandoning her on his search for his roots. Anything else would have been cowardly, an adjective that should never be applied to Superman.

Secondly, during the course of the story, Superboy reveals that he has super-powers by killing a man with a piano. Though this action is in defense of his mother, the child should never have had to perform this action. One of the moral tenets that has served Superman well over the years has been the belief in the sacred right to life. Though Superman has had to deal with many crooks, thugs, miscreants, gangsters, criminals, and murderers, he has never killed any of them, thanks to the rigid moral upbringing that he received from his parents. He would be horrified if his progeny used his powers in such a way as to result in someone's death. The manslaughter of the criminal cannot be justified as self-defense for the child or the mother because if the child does have super-human power such as Superman, he had the means to prevent the death though other applications of super-strength. The child's choice to use strength kill was inevitably a failure by the parents, since the child could never be expected to make such a rational use of his power with his limited understanding of the world. He is, after all, a child. Lois' refusal to admit that the child was Superman's and Superman's refusal to live up to his responsibility resulted in the child receiving poor moral guidance for such inevitable situations. (Any child of Lois Lane is going to end up in life-threatening danger. It's in the genes.)

Worse yet, during the movie, Clark Kent is shown in a bar drinking a Budweiser with Jimmy Olsen. Ignoring the question of whether bow-tied Jimmy Olsen is old enough to drink beer, what is this scene supposed to show other than a promotion of an Anheuser-Busch product? Superman doesn't drink beer! Though he's presumably immune to the effects of alcohol (as well as any additional poisons), Clark would never drink booze, especially in front of his impressionable pal, Jimmy.

Superman is paranoid that he might lose control of his powers and harm someone. The theme of irresponsible use of power has been part of Superman's mythos since his radio days. There's a television episode ("Superman in Exile") where he chastises scientists for not knowing what powers they are unleashing from the atom. The Superman I grew up with wouldn't even risk imbibing and damaging his own judgment. He also wouldn't encourage Jimmy to drink by setting a bad example himself. Though it may be acceptable for Jimmy to kick one back and relax after work, Clark shouldn't and wouldn't encourage him. However, if Jimmy wanted to drink chocolate milk, that's a Quik Bunny of a different color. Superman has pitched everything from Kellogg's Frosted Flakes to Radio Shack Computers to American Express Credit Cards. But so far as I'm aware, he's never pitched for anything quite so dangerous or controversial as alcohol before. What's next? Superman handguns? After this movie, it ought to be condoms. Tsk, tsk, Warner Brothers, for handling a product placement in such an irresponsible manner.

It's clear that Singer and company simply don't understand what makes Superman super. More accurately, they probably don't care, preferring to make their fame and fortune by putting their stamp on an American icon. Singer and pals decided to simply tweak a formula established by a previous director in order to jumpstart a cash cow franchise. Nevermind that the 70s movies have a few plot problems and Christopher Reeve is dead. Nevermind that Superman is among the most well-known and cherished of American icons. They figured that they would just push on, changing all of the wrong things, and audiences would love it. It's exactly that sort of arrogance that caused the film to lose $70 million on its domestic release. According to Box Office Mojo, the film cost an estimated $270 million to make. If accurate, that makes it among the most expensive movies in history. But a flop by any other name....

America knows what it likes, and it doesn't much like Superman Returns. And I agree with them.

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I've been trying to determine if I want to spend the cash to get my hands on Justice League Heroes for the PS2. One of my real questions has been, "is Batman any fun to play?"

IGN.com says, "Sadly, the most popular DC character, Batman, is easily the most useless and joyless character you can select. Even Aquaman is more fun to play." Aquaman is more fun than Batman? I think that answers my question. Aquaman is like the guy who stands alone in the corner at the party while everyone else is wondering who invited that loser. Though I'd hesitate to call Batman the life of the party, Aquaman shouldn't even have been on the guest list.

Apparently the game forces you to play certain characters in certain levels. What's the point of having Batman as an available character if you're going to spend a bunch of time in space? What good is Batman in space? I don't think you can jam enough equipment into a utility belt to really make a difference against the vacuum of freezing, airless space. (Which makes me wonder: is there an underwater level where I'll be forced to play Aquaman? Ugh.)

Now, I'm sure that Guy Gardner & Captain Marvel can survive in space. I'm also sure that they'd be really cool characters in a video game. I'm also, also sure that I'm going to be very, very old before that ever happens.

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I just watched Schwarzenegger's movie Commando straight through for the first time. (I'd only caught the very end before.) I found it very amusing. I should have watched it before now. I had no idea that it had such a robust cast: In addition to the obvious Schwarzenegger, Rae Dawn Chong, and Alyssa Milano, the film featured Dan Hedaya (who looked afraid of the gun he was firing at the film's climax), Bill Duke (the world's blackest man), David Patrick Kelley ("Warriors, come out and play!"), Branscome Richmond (who is in almost every non-speaking role in the past 30 years where a Portuguese/Spanish/Mexican/Indian is getting his ass kicked and the director needs a good reaction shot but we all know him from Renegade), and Bill Paxton (as Bill Paxton; is there any other role for him?). I mean, damn.

Speaking of casting, when it comes time for Schwarzenegger's Col. John Matrix to kill everyone in sight, it's pretty clear that they weren't filming on location in Latin America. (Wait, is John Matrix even a real name? His daughter's name was Jenny Matrix? Could I just make a movie and call someone something really stupid like Ford Taurus and get away with it? At least "Action" Jackson and "Desolation" WIlliams were nicknames.) I think every extra was a white guy wearing a really bad Groucho mustache and fake sideburns made of felt. Perhaps the grooming habits enforced by Dan Hedaya's deposed dictator were the reason that he was overthrown in the first place. It can't be easy to fight a coup d'etat when you have to make sure that you aren't sweating off your spirit gum.

It would have been a MUCH better film if any attempt had been made to make Matrix's antagonist Bennett look a) strong, b) fearsome, or c) less like a butch fag. (Clearly, this is the character that South Park's Mr. Slave is based on.) Bennett's mustache is the worst looking thing in the movie after his leather pants and sleeveless chainmail shirt. As Matrix taunts him into a hand-to-hand knife duel, his face goes through some orgasmic contortions that I think are just a little bit uncomfortable to watch on a man dressed in fetish gear before a bodybuilder who has been oiled-up for a "straight" action scene. Then I'm suddenly supposed to believe that this flabby gay man has equal strength to manly-man Matrix, who I've watched break steel chains in his bare hands, lift a phone booth over his head, remove a bolted down car seat, and kill Bill Duke? Um, no.

It's also completely worth noting that this film was penned by Jeph Loeb, a comic book writer that I once respected. That is, until he teamed up with Jim Lee to produce one of the worst stories in the history of Batman only to wash it down with some of the worst stories in the history of Superman/Batman. >sigh<. Credits for the film bill Loeb as "Joseph Loeb III," the same writer who wrote Teen Wolf and Teen Wolf 2, which really means that I shouldn't have ever respected him as a comic book writer in the first place. Teen Wolf was the only movie that I was ever embarrassed for having watched. My skin still crawls thinking about it. Curse you, Michael J. Fox, for following up Back to the Future with that, that... thing!

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Look, up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's the Sun!

I think that if I were a religious person, I'd probably worship the Sun. Sure, the Sun provides the light energy that makes life possible on Earth, and it has been worshipped by humans for as long as we've been standing upright. Links between the Sun and Christianity (the religion of the "Son") are as well established as the date for Christmas. (Interestingly, the name of the Islamic god, "Allah," may have been derived for a pagan Arabic god of the Moon, the anti-Sun. But that's not today's point.) Despite all of this, the Sun's unique relationship to modern culture goes largely ignored. The Sun gave us superheroes.

The archetype of the modern costumed hero, Superman is powered directly by the Sun. The rays of the Earth's yellow sun charge Superman's amazing Kryptonian physique, allowing him the powers of flight, super sense, and invulnerability. Without the Sun, there's no Man of Steel. That makes the Sun directly responsible for Earth's greatest champion.

The anti-Superman, Batman, is also controlled by the Sun. Unlike Superman, Bruce Wayne has no alien physiology, and must limit his crime-fighting to survivable situations. He chose to adopt a demonic costume and fight in the dark, knowing that his training, combined with mankind's inherent fear of the unknown ("Things That Go Bump in the Dark") will give him an edge against the criminal element. The fictitious construct that is "The Batman" could not function in daylight, and only inspires fear in situations where the Sun is absent. (You can't have a Dark Knight without the dark night.) Again, the abilities and character of one of the archetypical heroes of modern culture, The Batman, is determined directly by the Sun.

As if those two weren't great enough examples of the Sun's influence on American popular culture in general and the superhero in specific, the modern archetype for the superheroic family/team, the Fantastic Four, gained their powers from Cosmic Rays, which by their very nature are generated by the Sun. The Sun's natural radiation must also be responsible for some of the X-Men's bizarre super-human mutations, such as those possessed by Sunspot and Dazzler.

If the Sun has provided all of these powerful and admirable superheroes with their reason for being, I can't think of anything better to devote to worshiping. It certainly makes more sense than Catholicism.

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Why wasn't Mr. T ever asked to join the Justice League? He's stronger than Superman, wittier than Aquaman, dresses better than Hawkman, and has more wealth around his neck than Batman has secured in the batcave. And he really, really cared about saving the children.

Not to mention the fact that T had experience in the field of super-heroics. He had his own cartoon and his own group of super gymnasts who fought crime. (Come to think of it, everyone on children's TV of the late 70s/early 80s seemed to have their own crime solving group. It sure seems like TV is telling me that I should be part of a crime solving posse. Or I should be committing crimes for a crime solving posse to solve?)

Clearly the Super Friends could have used the diversity. They let Black Vulcan in just because he had the word "black" in his name. (Apparently, space monkeys didn't qualify as an ethnic minority in the eyes of Uncle Sam's anti-discrimination laws.) Seems to me that Mister T was much more qualified than Black Vulcan.

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Today's entry is brought to you by the letter "R" and the number "10." (And the Burger King, who sold me this Super Powers Meal Pack in 1987.)

You know, being the Riddler can't be all bad. Sure, he's got a psychopathic need for attention that always causes him to get caught, but the guy otherwise lives a pretty good life: he's clever, he's dapper (not so much in the green-footed jammies he's wearing above, but his suit and question mark cane are really quite stylish), and he has a lot of fun. The guy laughs a lot! He gets a lot of healthy exercise, so he's in pretty good shape. And he gets to spend a lot of money on creature comforts (when he's not in Arkham Asylum, which is frequently the case). Come to think of it, he lives pretty good in Arkham, too, as one of the less violent offenders in the joint he must get the run of the place.

Look at him up there, stretched out on a beach waiting for Superman to bring him to justice. That's the life. Pretty flowers, good music, tranquil waves, Pat the Bunny... maybe crime does pay.

What, exactly, is going on in the picture above? I wonder, just who is Batman's "pal"? Is Batman coming to Superman's aid or the Riddler's? Or for that matter, maybe the Dark Knight is rowing in to help that poor roller skating android who seems to have been caught completely unawares by Superman's left hook. Clearly, that is not Metallo, The Man with the Kryptonie Heart, out there. That ferrous fellow doesn't stand a chance against the Man of Steel. It doesn't even know any better than to wear roller skates on a sandy beach. Silly robot, roller skates are for kids.

For the record, the 10 things beginning with the letter "R" are rabbit, radio, robot, rock, rocking chair, roller skates, rope, roses, and rowboat. Hmmm.. I'm missing one... what could it be?

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This afternoon I unraveled one of the great conspiracies of the 20th century: The Faked Moon Landings. For years I've heard the rumors that the Apollo missions were filmed in a hidden studio somewhere: the lunar landscapes simply sets, the spaceships merely props, and the astronauts just actors. But this afternoon, while reading about NASA's gift of a moon rock to Neil Armstrong, I was able to finally pierce the veil: Neil Armstrong is really Adam West.

Think about it. First, they look a lot alike. Coincidence? Science says no. Clearly, they could never appear together since they are the same man. ("Clark Kent, meet Superman.") Neil Armstrong and Adam West have never publicly appeared together. (Go ahead and type both of their names into Google. You'll see.) Armstrong claims to have long guarded his privacy and is rarely seen outside of publicity events. West, on the other hand, has been in the public eye as a star of stage and screen for years. He is an accomplished actor who would have little difficiulty in donning the character of "Neil Armstrong" for the right paycheck and the promise of a global audience.

I must say that I do believe that Adam West was a great choice to portray an astronaut. He was handsome, strong, and athletic. His earlier portrayal of an astronaut (a Colonel, no less!) in Robinson Crusoe on Mars, billed as "scientifically authentic," proves that he had what it took to be the first man to walk on the moon. Adam's portrayal of Batman in the years immediately prior to the landing demonstrated that he could be the man who lives with a secret identity. Bravo, I say, to the man who entranced the world.

No doubt NASA, the United States Government, and Adam West will all deny this as the truth. But this does answer a lot of lingering questions. Personally, I think that knowing the truth makes the world a little bit better place to live in, even if we haven't landed on the moon yet.

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Driving home from my father's house today, I was pulled over at the intersection of Atlanta Highway and Bethlehem Road by Sgt. Hinson of the Statham, Georgia police department. I think it is the very first time that I have ever peen pulled over that I wasn't nervous. I knew exactly what he pulled me over for: I wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

This marks the second time that I've ever been pulled over for a "Seat Belt" violation and the third time that I've been pulled over in Statham GA. The other 2 times I've been stopped in Statham (pronounced STATE-um by the locals for reasons that I don't understand) were for speeding. Neither resulted in a ticket, just a verbal chiding. (I was told that I could exceed the speed limit by as much as 14 mph and get away with it by decree of the Statham mayor.) Amusingly enough, neither of the times that I was pulled over for speeding was I wearing a seat belt.

In the state of Georgia, the fine for not wearing a seat belt (GA State Law code violation 40.8.76.1) is $15.00. I don't yet know if the city of Atlanta charges more, as they haven't much seemed to care if I'm endangering myself on the few times that I have encountered them. Sgt. Hinson was very kind to remind me that the violation doesn't count points off of my driver's license, so clearly I can repeat this violation as many times as I wish without putting my ability to drive in question.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the lawmakers who drafted and passed the law that encourages police officers to ticket otherwise compliant and safe drivers on lazy Sunday afternoons for a violation that threatened no one's life but my own. (Certainly, Superman never stopped traffic to make sure that Jimmy buckled up.) I'm pleased to start April off with a bang, dashing Statham's hope of achieving a 100% rating for seat belt use for the month.

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Among the truely great books ever published is The Super Dictionary. A learning dictionary for children published in the 70s, it features the great lineup of DC super heroes: Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Flash, etc. I often tell people that I learned to read from comic books, but that's not quite true. I learned to read from The Super Dictionary.

Wonder Woman illustrates the entries for "blow" and "bush." I love this book.

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I just finished Gotham Central #39, and I was appalled to discover that issue 40 will be the last of the series. Apparently the G.C.P.D. won't survive the "skipped" year coming in Infinite Crisis. The cancellation of this book has me really depressed.

You see, last month my comic shop of the past decade plus closed its doors. While debating if I my desire was strong enough to keep feeding my very expensive habit, the only DC book that had any emotional impact upon me was Gotham Central. The ending of issue #38 was shocking and saddening to me. One month later, to find that the only book that I was really enjoying within DC's "continuity" is to be discontinued is very discouraging.

I'll be the first to recognize that the comic industry has to change in order to reach a new generation of customers. I had hoped that they would be able to do so without alienating their longstanding readers. But as DC changes Superman into Hamlet and Batman into Dr. Frankenstein, I find my interest waning.

In the early 90's, in reaction to the trends of the day and gimmicks of their competitors, DC replaced Batman with a much darker version. Denny O'Neil has said that the Azrael Batman was an interpretation of the darker, more violent characters that were so prevalent at the time, an interpretation that was predestined for destruction in favor of the more life-affirming Batman that DC presented. Now, DC gives us All-Star Batman, a despicable, murderous, egomaniacal creature that throws their work and characterization of just 10 years ago out the window. And their excuse? Allowing Frank Miller to redefine Batman worked so well 20 years ago, let's get him to do it again! With curse words! I'm beginning to think that Frank Miller sincerely hates Batman.

I think I'll blame my comic book malaise on the "new look" DC bullet. I loved the previous, longstanding bullet. It has been modified over the years, but it was always the same basic thing: the letters "D" & "C" inside of a circle with text or stars. The same elements are all there, but it's not the same feeling anymore. And now that that bullet is associated with DC's new Batman (shitty) and Superman (going to be shitty) movies, the whole thing is a disenfranchising nightmare to me.

Sure, I'll probably keep buying Detective and Batman out of habit (the inertia of 30 consecutive years collecting a title is hard to overcome), but I'm just not sure I really care anymore for the new DC Universe. I guess that's the thing about bullets: you never see them coming.

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