Some random bits

It's not too late to submit questions to the Melbotis Mailbag either by e-mail or the comments section of this post.

Stolen from Randy's website: someone terribly suspicious of the symbol of God's promise

http://view.break.com/549954 - Watch more free videos
STOP REFRACTION NOW (in another 20 years, it will be too late). Time to ask yourself: What could possibly make this happen?

Music is always better when you can relate:

Thanks to JAL for forwarding the video

I've also been watching some Olympics, and some thoughts:

-Usain Bolt and the rest of the Jamaican sprint team are insane. Somehow (and I'm not sayin' how) Jamaicans have managed to harness the "Speed Force". Wally West, look out.
-That said: US sweeps men's hurdles!
-And I think I have a tiny crush on Sanya Richards, Texas runner who is now a Bronze Medalist
-The reason they are canceling softball in the Olympics: The US women literally cannot be beat. They have outscored the competition 50+ - 1. YOU CANNOT BEAT CAT OSTERMAN.
-May-Treanor and Walsh up for a Gold tomorrow in beach Volleyball. Be there. This may be the grand finale to a couple of amazing careers (both have hinted at retiring to start families).
-I actually salute NBC's coverage of the Beijing Olympics. They've managed to cut the footage down to the parts you're going to want to see when they aren't showing anything live. It makes stuff like Men's gymnastics, in which I have only a passing interest, a lot more watchable.

League Approved Olympic Training:



Anyway, I had to work tonight, so hopefully you Leaguers will forgive me if the post is a bit short.

Loss of Faith in Humanity/ Getting out of Town

Part of why I do not understand the world

I saw on TV the other day that Kim Kardashian, who has no skills and is famous only because of a 6th degree separation to the OJ Simpson trial (it's insanely complicated, but a quick check of Wikipedia whould clear it up) is making $25,000 a night "hosting" parties in LA.

If there were ever any time I would think God would be within his rights to smite a place from the Earth...

Gas is going to $3.60 a gallon, it costs $80,000 to get a graduate degree, the NSF is struggling for funding, schools are underfunded, and we're having food riots across the world... But somehow there's an economy in LA that says its reasonable and profitable to pay this person with a horrible "reality" show on basic cable $25K to show up and have a drink at a party. Which means, and this is the scary part, that people actually want to be at a party hosted by this person of no talent and no influence enough that the $25K will turn a profit.

The fact that the poor of LA haven't put the heads of the Kardashians and their ilk on spikes and redustributed their wealth tells me only that the American dream is mutated from work hard and it will pay off to instant wealth for becoming a personality.

Ladies and gentlemen... I ask of you... What kind of a world do we live in where Screech has to appear on Celebrity Fit Club to make ends meet and this person is making a dime?

Somebody give me my reality show, already. I'm ready to be rich. And I think America is ready to fall in love with Melbotis and his wise-cracking side-kick, Jeff the Cat.



Radiohead - Next week we're going to see Radiohead in Houston and do a bit of late Mother's Day celebrating. I'm excited.

Costa Rica - At the end of the month, The League and Jason are taking a two-man trip to lovely Costa Rica.

I'm a bit nervous. I've only ever been on one non-family oriented trip, and that was our honeymoon which was at Disneyworld. (Look, its tough coming up with stuff to do and still have access to dialysis, so shut up).

Jason and I are going to the rain forest for two days to see a large volcano and fight monkeys. The next day we're headed to the coast for a few days of drinking cheap whiskey by the shore and fighting beach monkeys.

As I mentioned, I haven't traveled much in my life and I haven't seen much of the world, so this will be very new to me. I've never even had need for a passport until this trip as I never made the college trip to Europe or went anywhere on spring break, and our "alternative lifestyle" doesn't lend itself easily to travel.

One thing that's always turned me off about vacations is that the second you mention you're even thinking of vacation, everybody comes out of the woodwork to tell you where to go, what to do, how to do it, and that no matter what you're thinking of, you're doing it wrong. And I get that. People have a good time on vacation. They want to relive their vacation by sending you on a duplicate of their vacation so they can verify that you had the same fun they had on their trip and feel that they're time away was well spent.

At least I'm now past the age where people went to Europe and came back (a) declaring how much better everything is in Europe from food to transportation to whatever, and (b) declaring how they were moving to Europe and leaving loser Americans (ie: you) behind for the greener grass of The Continent.

I confess, one of the big upsides of my trip to Disneyworld was countering this discussion with how much more ideal things are in the Magic Kingdom. The public transportation of Monorails and huge paddle boats and submarines where you can see mermaids. There's so many varieties of foods, time periods, and alternate realities. If America were more like Disneyland, things would be so much better here.

Anyway, my travel experience is extremely limited. The League has never been anywhere or done anything, and, we confess, it really gets us down sometimes, so the trip to Costa Rica is very welcome. And I am pretty sure my check from Uncle Sam intended to stimulate the American economy is going to be going to fruity, girly drinks in some cabana on a beach.

And that, Leaguers, is as close as you're going to see me sticking it to the man.

Christmas Day!


You have your Christmas wish, I'll have mine...

Hope your Christmas is going well.

We've opened presents, enjoyed some delicious roll wreath (ask Jamie for the recipe sometime... it will do nothing but improve your Christmas while expanding your waistline), had some coffee, cleaned up and are now basking in the post-Christmas Morning glow.

Jamie received some music books from Doug and has commandeered the McB family piano (I'm excited by the prospect of Jamie learning the theme to "The Magnificent Seven").
Judy and Doug are playing some billiards and Dick is engrossed in a New York Times Front Page book. It's tough to explain. (The New York Time's Page One 1851-2004)

I've already cashed in Jason's gift (a wisely purchased gift certificate) and expect my copy of "Enemy Ace Archives" first week of January. Jamie got me a copy of Spirit Archives Vol. 1, which I am very excited to have to absorb over the next few weeks. Doug landed me the entire run of "The Flash" on DVD (with Amanda Pays, truly a DITMTLOD). My loot also included two books I'll be getting into, and a set of Superman Uno cards (which I believe feature Jose Luis Garcia Lopez art).

Jeff the Cat even received a gift in absentia... a sort of self-heating cat blanket. We will never get him to move, ever, ever again.

Mel and the McB cats (Sam and Pippin) seem to be getting along swimmingly, less a short vaccuum/cat barking incident. Mel's gift was a swell bed which he's been using since his arrival.

Oh, we saw "Charlotte's Web" last night. Excellent movie for adults and kids, btw (Randy, take your nieces, etc...). I should have guessed the line-up of voices they recruited for the film should have indicated the script wasn't going to be a hacky, X-TREME "Charlotte's Web", but I was continually impressed with the filmmakers for remaining true to the material. Even if, subtextually, I worry for Steve Buscemi's self-esteem, what with his continual casting as miscreants.

That's all for this Christmas Day, 2006.

It's our sincere hope that your Christmas is a good one. Travel safe. Be good to one another.

We hope that you'll join us as all hands at The League of Melbotis wish for Peace on Earth and Goodwill towards all.

God bless us, every one.

Questions Para El League

Okay. I don't feel much like blogging for the next few days. Such is the fate of checking your Sitemeter statistics.

So I open the floor to you, the readership, to ask any and all questions of The League of Melbotis. I will answer them when I return.

Go nuts.

Also, this show will be on in the Fall. I think it looks pretty cool.

Flyin' A's, kidneys, weddings

It's been an okay week. We're headed out tomorrow for the wedding of Erica F., taking place somewhere in the greater Houston area. Erica's an old pal of mine from my days in high school, who wound up as one of Jamie's roommates in college. So, yeah, we go back a piece. Actually, if memory serves, Erica and I were tied for ranking in our high school class.

I've not actually met the husband-to-be as he came into the picture while we were in PHX, but early reports have been extremely positive. The bottom line is that I like a good party, and as long as they keep the ceremony short, who doesn't like a good wedding, too? It gives you a chance to really space out until the "I Do's" and the applause. I am unsure how much dancing I'll be doing at the ceremony, but I suppose I shall have to put in another round of doing The Robot.

I'm returning Monday, but Jamie (and Melbotis) will remain in Houston for most of the week. I have some business to attend to in Austin, but Jamie's getting worked up at Methodist Hospital in order to get back on the kidney recipient list. So, Karebear is taking jamie under wing and will be managing that detail. I feel sort of bad about not being there, but I don't think the procedures are going to be terribly upsetting or invasive. If they are, I guess I'm headed back to Houston.

Depending upon your religious preference, I would ask that all of you GET ON THE ORGAN DONOR'S LIST and then INFORM YOUR RELATIVES AS PER YOUR WISHES. If you die and your organs can be donated, many families refuse to go along with the checked box on the driver's license indicating organ and tissue donation. Understandably, it's an emotional time, and many people going through the grieving process may not wish to think about organ donation at one of the roughest times in their life. SO... make sure you speak up beforehand.

Last night we went to see Hilary and Stuart's band, The Flyin' A's, play at Artz Ribhouse. Turns out they're really very good, which i sort of knew, but it was my first time seeing them live, and they more than confirmed my suspicions. The Flyin' A's play some nice Texas country, but covered some Etta James and Johnny Cash as well. They play all the time, and I don't have a very good excuse as per why we haven't gone out to see them, but that's going to change. Folks in Austin (or other places they play (they go on tour this summer) should check them out. Our San Antonio contingent should know they're playing at Specht's on Saturday evening.

http://www.theflyinas.com/


Hope all is well with all of ya'll.

Getting Political

Ahhhh... It's that time in a young country's life when so many things are due for a change. That country keeps hearing about "Change" and may even be discovering girls (on the ticket).

For folks newer to the site, here's some background:

The site was originally a bit more political. I was deeply dissatisfied with the Bush administration and the push to war in Iraq (do not equate this with a push into Afghanistan or other Al Qaeda related pushes of the day). The American press was rolling over for talking point dispatches, and more than I was bothered by Bush's strategies, I was deeply bothered by the way the press was happy to play along.

I should note, the force singly most responsible for the creation of League of Melbotis is a thought-provoking conservative in his own right. And while he and I could disagree, there was always an opportunity for me to see things from a new angle. I have no idea if he felt the same way, but that was something I could take away from it.

That's really all I ask out of political discussion. Rational discourse. Keep the emotion to a limited degree (I've been known to get pretty hot about certain issues, I confess), and trying not to deny logic in an argument.

I started LoM in the Boogeyman Era of politics, where the call of the day was "If you don't support X, you hate America", "If you don't buy into Y, you hate our troops", "If you don't agree to Z, you hate freedom", and, my favorite "You're trying to appease the terrorists!". No other time in the history of man has the phrase "appease" been bandied about so much.

For me, the end result of the Bush/ Cable News era, sadly, has been a sneering cynicism about politics in general. Cynicism = bad. If you find our system goofy, go live in Canada, right? Whatever.

Instead, it's been a 7 year lesson in watching the entire populace (who supposedly took high school civics) look the other direction as the law and basic decency have been put to the curb for expediency.

Worse, possibly, it's ingrained in me a cynicism about party loyalists of any stripe. If folks will believe anything That Guy says, why should I believe anything Our Guy says?

It's sort of left me with the impression that we are not so far away from our silver-back respecting primate cousins. There's a reason that against all logic, we spent 100,000 years erecting kings to live in palaces while we toiled on turnip farms and paid them taxes, believing God himself had selected Our Guy for the job. When push came to shove, if we backed Our Guy and adorned him in jewels and let him kick the crap out of us, maybe when the jerks from the other side of the island showed up to kill us and take our turnips, our belief that Our Guy was the REAL guy (and not THEIR jewel adorned guy, who was so obviously a jerk) God would help us smite our enemies.

And because winners tend to write history, sure, God was on our side.

Despite our proclamations of love for the system, I'm not convinced we're not all secret monarchists at heart, in search of a king (or queen). We choose our candidates by how they support the lifestyle we believe we (and everyone else) should be living. We don't look to candidates to change our ways with new and challenging ideas. Every four years is a chance to crown new royalty, and to feel some small victory when or if the victor is the one who confirms our preconceived notions.

If Our Guy wins, things will be better for everyone. He will protect our turnips. Or at least the way we think turnips should be raised and distributed. If the other guy wins, we'll all be turnipless.

The improvement in the situation is that we have an opportunity to choose which guy we're going to go with on this turnip situation very four harvests.

A bit of personal frustration I find in myself is that I absolutely have knee-jerk reactions, and despite the abundance of information available on candidates and their game plans for the future that I came to a decision so quickly regarding who was My Guy. I found myself rationalizing criticisms of My Guy, and backing shakier criticisms against All Those Other Guys. As it's become Our Guy vs. Their Guy (and Our Guy-1 vs. Their Guy-1), things are starting to get serious.

But I don't take any of the candidates all that seriously. You can't.

I often have no idea if My Guy's plans will work. It's just that My Guy's plans sound more like something I'd do than The Other Guy's plans. When I hear our two candidates talking about their energy plans, is it really that shocking that the solution they came up with matches the preconceived notions of their party faithful? Is the science behind what their saying a legitimate response? Why the @#$% are we asking politicians (of all people) how we should be moving forward with energy solutions? Why aren't we finding out what the facts and science are from someone who doesn't have a political stake in this stuff (such as Ms. Paris Hilton)?

We're looking to our Officially Anointed and Elected Sun Gods to pretend they know how to do everything from run international tariff laws to understanding the complex issues behind our natural resources. Luckily, they gladly fake authority and certainty on such topics, and we go right along with it, mostly because it fulfills the conclusions we've already come to.

I quit talking politics on the site because, honestly, it totally wears me out. I say "red", someone else chimes in to say "blue", someone else says "you don't understand colors, moron", and yet another person says "God only likes blue." And the truth is, we're all right and we're all wrong. We won't ever live in a state of utter hegemony in which we're all moving the same direction and the same solutions work for everyone. (You can try this, but then you're a big, spooky country where people tend to disappear when they disagree.)

The fact is, it's a single vote I'll cast in November. In a state that is massively, proudly Republican, it totally doesn't matter what I think (no matter who I vote for). The arcane and out-dated workings of the electoral college tell me that voting in National Politics is, in fact, pointless. And with the results of the 2000 Election, I'm kind of inclined to think the whole thing is so astonishingly flawed that its going to come down to the fact that we have a Republican-placed Supreme Court, anyway.

It doesn't mean I won't vote. It's just... you know, I'm not completely dumb nor overly illogical. And it sure as hell beats the alternative of not having any say. That's been our lot for the vast, vast majority of human history. And, I don't think too kindly of that particular right being infringed upon.

So I vote more for the ritual of the thing, and because I have hope that one day a vote will actually count for something (we do live in a Republic after all, not a true democracy. But things change.). And that my vote can be a reminder to The Other Guy, if My Guy does lose (and he probably will), that nobody walks into office on a 100% mandate. Anyone taking the Oval Office should remember that almost half the country didn't want to see them in office, and keep that in mind when they start making decisions.

But I'll be dipped if that's what I see actually happen. It's hard to not believe the monkeys howling your name and dropping all those red and blue balloons (all for you!) in those first 100 days. You get to be festooned in jewels and tell the whole country that despite the council's decisions regarding turnip planting, you're not agreeing to plant any turnips until they start growing them and distributing turnips in the way you see fit...

We choose our kings and queens in odd ways and maybe by asking the wrong questions. And certainly by expecting them to be all knowing and seeing with their army of advisors. I don't know what criteria we should be using to make our decisions, but too often we seem to make our decisions based on someone else's checklist. And maybe that's what needs to change a bit.


A quick PS: I am neither for or against Sarah Palin, Joe Biden or anyone else seeking office. I've given Palin a hard time the past few days here at LoM and Steanso's blog. This is not to suggest anything about Palin (other than that probably Photoshopped pics with accompanying taglines are amusing). Here's a hoax link.

I could care less about Sarah Palin or Joe Biden other than their official capacities, and more or less the same about McCain and Obama. If you are in some way related to any of these people and become offended by future links regarding stuff I find funny, then my apologies. Any hang up other readers have regarding the sun god worship of candidates is their own.

I assure you, all of this will get stupider before it gets better.

APRIL FIRST: Be Prepared for Swears

I've decided we've all become too civil and we're beating around the bush in social media. My social media of choice are pretty much Blogger, Facebook and Twitter.

At one point in my life, I had the mouth of a sailor's friend that the sailor looked down on for his poor language. I always managed to clean it up around the folks and whatnot, but left to my own devices, I made Andrew Dice Clay look classy. I admit it. Sometimes I really, really miss feeling okay about just letting whatever pops into my heads come out my mouth and/ or keyboard. You know, when someone comes over to your table at your restaurant to let you know how offended they were by listening to you for the last twenty minutes?

Ahhhh.... good times.

Well, for one day, I'm bringing it back. If, in fact, I've still got it in me.

April 1, 2009, will not be a family-friendly day at League of Melbotis. It will be Freedom of Horrendous Speech Day here at League HQ.

I hereby solemnly pledge that for April 1, 2009
Any blog made the evening of March 31, intended for April 1, 2009 will be rife with horrible, horrible profanity. Seriously, you're going to need to wash your monitor clean after reading it, and maybe keep those Clorox wipes nearby.
Similarly, any Facebook or Twitter updates belonging to me (but not to metacomics or comic Fodder) will also be full of ear-searing naughtiness.

Mom... Judy... Admiral.... I am totally not kidding about this. Steer clear on April 1. You've been warned.

The content will otherwise be the same, but we're going to use swears. Lots and lots of swears.

I plan to go unfiltered for one day, and on the following day, will edit the post to be free of any naughty words. But I have to do it. Just this once.

And I ask you to join me.

if you maintain a twitter account, a Facebook page, etc... join me in returning to that same manner of frank speaking we all employed around age 19 or so (or which my wife carries on to this day...)

New Feature: I Totally Hate Unicorns


It may be tough to imagine disliking something which doesn't exist. This time of year, sure, you get your Scrooges declaring Christmas a humbug. But you rarely hear them say: "Gee, I hate Santa". Or, "that Rudolph is a total phony."

People generally leave well enough alone when discussing fictional creatures, whether you're talking Elves, Trolls, Pixies, Cyclops, Eskimos or Vampires. It's, indeed, a rarity to hear someone say "Those mermaids really chap my hide."

But, circa 1997, I bore witness to my first open assault on unicorns. I was taking a screenwriting class I was throughly enjoying, and had allied myself with a certain, outspoken fellow. JimD was someone I'd become friendly with during the time-leaching "Intro to Screenwriting" class. We'd become pals when he said "Yeah, I used to read lots of comics." Now, he was one of the few sane people in my class, and we were both equally enthusiastic about the opportunity the course presented.

During this class (the one post-Intro), one of our fellow student screenwriters had written a script I shall describe as "Cloak & Dagger" meets "War Games".

The format of the class was somewhat brutal, especially for fragile creative types. Each week, you put the ten pages you were required to write into a box for your classmates to read. They would give you written feedback. Then, once every few course sessions, you'd have to sit while the other students put your pages up on the overhead and asked you questions (ie: trashed your script). It was a great exercise in separating your ego from your work, lest you break down and cry. Indeed, you either embraced the process or went into meltdown.

During the "Cloak & Dagger" guy's evaluation, it came to light that a key element of the screenplay was a unicorn-shaped necklace given by one lead character to another. The unicorn necklace came into serious play during the climactic scenes of the script.

After some mulling, JimD raised his hand and said something along the lines of "It can't be a unicorn."
"Why?" we all asked.
"Unicorns are lame," he said, with the authority of one who knows his unicorns.
"What?" the hapless screenwriter was now (wisely) taking a defensive posture.
"Dude, nobody likes unicorns."
"I think it's okay."
"No, nobody likes unicorns."
"I don't see anything wrong with it."
"Dude," JimD turned to the class for help. "Does anybody here really like unicorns?"

I sat and thought about it as the exchange went on for longer than expected, realizing that, at age 22, I had really not given the matter of unicorns the appropriate consideration.


An irritating pair of unicorns.

I recalled thinking unicorns were pretty cool when I was in second grade, having had what had to have been a pretty goofy folder that featured a unicorn (a unicorn which bore pegasus-style wings, no less) flying across a cosmic star scape. Later, at the Texas Renaissance festival circa 1983, I had seen a sheep with a horn glued to his head and touted as a unicorn (apparently the horses were glue resistant). The "Dungeons & Dragons" cartoon, which I adored, featured a unicorn (named "Uni", no less) and I'd never thought too much about that. I played a lot of Dungeons & Dragons as a kid, and so I think I was pre-disposed to giving the fauna of faerie-land a bit of a pass.

But I had to ask myself: Did I like unicorns?

There had been a unicorn incident. In first or second grade, my folks had dropped me off to see "The Last Unicorn". I have no recollection of the movie, other than that it must have been a fairly bleak story. I was unable to sleep the night after I saw it, feverish, and, as I recall, a little irritated with the titular Last Unicorn for some reason. I have never seen the movie since.

"Nobody likes unicorns!" JimD was still insisting.
I looked at my watch. The conversation had been going on more than five minutes. People were becoming a bit uncomfortable, I believe, at JimD's anti-unicorn belligerence, paired with the scree-writer's pro-unicorn stance. It was a stalemate, and neither side would blink.
"Who else," JimD confronted the small class, "likes unicorns?"

What the hell was a unicorn, anyway? I mean, I remember hearing that in medieval times people thought unicorns gored folks with their horns. That was sort of cool. But those people also thought elves lived in the woods and that taking a bath was evil. So their unicorn knowledge was probably shaky at best.


this unicorn is really annoying

Now, unicorns mostly festooned air-brushed t-shirts you could buy at the fair, pranced around in flower-littered glens and showed no signs of goring people with their horn. They're total snobs, hanging out only with maidens, pegasi and each other. They contribute nothing, unless they "majestically" ran along a rainbow, pooping cheer on all who dares to look up.

"I'm not sure it's that big of a deal-" I started.
"No way!" Jim D cut in. "Are you saying you like unicorns?"

Like the Tri-Star horse jumping over the T in Tri-Star (but clocking some poor grip on the head with his hoof), it hit me.

Unicorns are stupid.


a typical, stupid unicorn. How I hate them.

I had no idea why, but JimD was right. Sure, this made JimD more than a little like the Darkness guy from Ridley Scott's "Legend", but I was no Tom Cruise, or even one of the chubby dwarf guys. I was the little green troll dude, totally ready to take down some unicorns if it meant eternal winter and that the annoying girl became a rad goth grrl.

"Yeah, okay," I admitted, "Unicorns are kind of lame. But if that's what he wants..."
"See!" JimD turned to the screenwriter, triumphant.

The guy kept the unicorn necklace in the script, where it remains, unproduced, to this day. I do not know how much JimD actually KNOWS about unicorns. I assume it is a lot. In the years that have since passed, to my knowledge, we have spoken of the matter only twice.

I also hate Rachael Ray. She makes food that any idiot with a box of Triscuits and a can of Cheeze-Whiz can make, all while rambling like a clock-watching dental hygenist ready for her big weekend at the lake. Further, Rachael Ray has usurped the rightful place of Giada De Laurentiis as the queen of Food Network, which is unjust, as Giada De Laurentiis is obviously a total fox.


a total fox

All that said, Rachael Ray and I agree on more than the fact that, honestly, if you can't just make it with Triscuits and Cheeze-Whiz, you might as well hire caterers.

Rachael Ray also hates unicorns. I'm totally lifting this from someone else:

"I would smile all day long, every day, if it guaranteed a unicorn getting punched in the face. I find them really annoying." - Rachael Ray, responding to queries posed in Entertainment Weekly's "Stupid Questions" column, (10-20-06).

Thanks, Rachael Ray.

Here, also is an example of a GOOD use of unicorns.


link: courtesy Doug

With these unicorns, hopefully, the democracy-loving unicorn will defeat the evil socialist unicorn. Then, we can kill and eat the freedom-championing unicorn, savoring his patriotically succulent juices while picking any stray commie-bits from our teeth with his red, white and blue horn.

Here is a link, courtesy of SG Harms, regarding the wearing of unicorn shirts.

So I don't like unicorns. I think they're dumb. I'm much more about hippogryphs, and wyvern.

So League of Melbotis has a new mission: We're going to expose unicorns for the frauds they truly are.

If you have any good unicorn stories, pictures, etc... please send them on.

We're making the world a better place, one less unicorn at a time.

Unless it's this unicorn, who is totally awesome.

HOLIDAY SPECTACULAR: A SUPER EVENING

Well, I'm feeling a little tired and foggy today (it's nowhere close to morning anymore). I didn't really drink that much egg nog, but I also didn't eat anything between lunch and about 12:30 AM. We received our first guests around 7:40 when Stuart and Hilary made an appearance, and Shoemaker drifted out the door sometime around quarter to three.

The evening was full of old and new friends, Loyal Leaguers, olives, dogs, elves and lots of good cheer. There were surprise guests, surprise turns of events, heartfelt moments and Andy S. wearing an oven mit.

You have to understand, The League of Melbotis last hosted a big party as a mid-day sort of affair about six years ago. Prior to that, we did some bar-b-q's, and that's about it. We, traditionally, don't do a lot of entertaining. So, yes, mistakes were made. But when we moved back to Austin, I was not about to let the Holidays go by without some demonstration of our appreciation for our pals.

We also have an insane amount of booze still left at our house, so if you can send over about eight frat-boys, have we got a treat for them... Otherwise, Jamie and I are just going to have to drink all this stuff before it goes bad.

Next year, a more focused BYOB.

Stuart and Hilary appeared first, and we scarcely had a few minutes to chat (ask Hilary about the Budweiser room at SeaWorld) before the flood gates opened and my house became full of all sorts of guests. Zoomy. Jason and Elena from down the street. Justin and Tanya from back in the day (Monarch Soccer '84 rules!), Peabo and Adriana, to name just a few.

We handed out some door prizes. Several attendees won bottles from the Jones Soda 2006 Holiday Dessert Pack. We sampled some of Tanya's Cherry Pie Soda, and it was surprisingly good. A marked change from last year's debacle with Jones Soda. Pez dispensers, M&M's and other Holiday surprises were handed out to a lucky few.

"It's not just a party," remarked Steanso, "It's a game show."

Winner for surprise guest of the evening: Well, I sort of knew they might come, but John and Julie B. drove in all the way from the N. Houston area. Julie said they were a definite maybe, but Julie's in school and John works a lot of hours, so, you know, if they didn't come, nobody was going to get bent out of shape. Anyhow, I have no idea what time it was, but I looked up and said in my head, "Oh, there's Julie." And then it sort of clicked "Julie lives in Houston". So, anyway, kudos to the B's.

Winner for surprise info of the evening: It took a minute to click thanks to Mr. Eggnog, but Mr. Shoemaker described his lovely girlfriend as his "fiancee"... so Shoemaker is getting married. I can scarce believe it. Sadly, Keora wasn't there for reasons which Mr. Eggnog has wiped from my memory bank.

Winner for heart-tugging reunion: The League and Mr. Eggnog. No, Mel's original owner, Jenny, came by with her husband. Mel freaked out and went all puppyish for a while, and proceeded to follow Jenny around for a good chunk of the evening. Jenny informed me that she is now going to write a Lifetime movie about women who give up their dogs, only to be reunited with them.

Winner for defeating The League and Steanso's best efforts: The firepit. John B. gets an ingenuity award for finally getting the fire started with an emergency run to the store and the purchase of a Duraflame log. Kudos to John B.

Winner for best food item: Goes to Cousin Sue's pumpkin dip. When I asked, "Was this good?" upon seeing the empty dish (when I finally got a chance to go try some), was met with a resounding response in the affirmative. So, Susan, you need to make more.

No Win: I could not get Peabo and Adriana to name their soon-to-arrive child "Lil' Ryan". Apparently, it does not translate well into Spanish. They claim that, phonetically, it sounds a bit like "to laugh at" or something along those lines.

Endurance Award: Steven and Lauren may have clocked the most minutes at the party. Arriving with the first herd and departing with the second, we enjoyed the heck out of having these cats at our house.

Winner for name I caught, but failed to pronounce correctly all evening: Elena? Helena? She lives three houses down, so I sort of better figure this out.

Most ignored: The two ice-cream cakes (which are really cool and look like Yule Logs) we bought and promptly forgot about that are now sitting in the freezer.

Most-discussed: The League's "shrine" (as many called it). I had many people come to me after visiting upstairs to say "I have never seen anything like that before". I am not certain that is good or bad.

Best Elf: Rami. Hands down.

Best-effort: to Pat for, reportedly, knocking down several of my action figures and then trying to get them standing again. Only to knock down several more plastic heroes. Repeat.

Best footwear: Jamie, for giving up on her skirt and boots and switching to jeans and her sock-monkey slippers around 11:30.

Overall thank you: To the many party-goers who worked so hard to wear out the dogs. From Justin's initial game of fetch, to Shoemaker tossing the ball for Lucy at 2:30, the dogs are totally crashed out today. That's a rare treat, and we thank you.



All in all, a grand evening. I forgot to take pictures. I think Jason snapped some pics. If I can get some photos to post, or can link over to his site at some point, I shall do so.

We want to send out a thank you to everyone who attended and even those folks who couldn't attend. It's tough to demonstrate your appreciation for your friends, en masse, so this is my best effort. Sure, we may not have loved every moment of our time in Arizona, but it really led us to appreciate the value of good folks like you Leaguers.


We plan to repeat in the second Saturday of December, 2007. Mark your calendars now.

The Story of Jeff the Cat, Part II

In the time before time… when all was fire, and flesh and claw, the cat would rise from a place in the north of the city.

There came a time when the queen would decree a travel westward, into the face of the burning sun and into the place of the barren wastes, where trees bearing fruit grew spiny and creatures scuttled on their bellies across the earth.

The queen traveled ahead to the wasteland, choosing the place they would call home. The matter done, she called forth the cat, the wise canine companion and their human manservant.

The cat, always quick to anger, was without guile, and so demanded his transport not by carriage on the roadways, but passage in the belly of the silver beasts that coursed the sky.

“Ha!” declared the manservant. “They stow you in a crate like precious cargo!”

But the cat did not respond. The knowledge of his error was plain. He would ride in the beasts' belly, feeble from the elixir given him by the manservant to ease his nerve. The queen would receive him and place him first among the clan to inhabit the new dwelling, before even she gave up her temporary residence to come to the new place.

Alone he hid beneath the porcelain throne, waiting, until one day (he knew not how long) the door was thrown open and the dog and the manservant arrived with the comforts of their home. But it was not the cat's home.

For three years did the cat dwell in the desert, his displeasure constant, his look one of an ever growing madness. Still did the cat strike out against the queen and the manservant and queen, and why they suffered him to live, none could say.

In the third year the foolish dog came to the cat’s house, and here she made a bed for herself.

She wore not the gruff solemnity of her canine kin whom the cat knew, but appeared with a wild madness, her mind adrift, her thoughts as thin as the wind.
The foolish dog, though the cat paid her no heed, would go undeterred in her interest and affection for the cat.

“We are friends!” she insisted.

The cat slinked away, needing no companion but his own stewing anger.

Until one evening, long after the queen had retired and the manservant watched over his companions, did the cat demonstrate to the foolish dog his disdain.

The manservant met the gaze of each of the companions. “I ask you three, what is best in life?”

The foolish dog, always quick to answer with no thought in her brains spoke first:

“To have fresh dog chow. To find oneself on a warm spring day with the sun on your tummy. To eat rocks and vomit them.”

“Wrong!” barked the manservant. “Cat! What is best in life?”

“To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.”

The manservant eyed the cat for a long time, before turning to He Who They Called The Melbotis.

“Dog. What is best in life?”

“Knowledge of the place within the pack. The trust and love of The Queen. Quiet nights by the side of the manservant.”

The manservant seemed pleased.

The cat sat silently. Behind his eyes, the flames of chaos flickered and began to ebb.

Coming soon: Part III

Miscellania

Jill's kid started a Bird-Watching Blog

So, young junior naturalist Arden H-W has started a blog all about his bird-watching hobby.

Here.

The League is impressed. That kid is going to be the next Audubon. His blog posts are also already five times more coherent than anything you're likely to find here at League of Melbotis.

I look forward to seeing what bird he covers next.

So Where Are the Kents in the Silver Age?

Fans of Silver-Age and Bronze-Age comics will note that the Kents are alive when Superboy is a lad, but by the time he becomes Superman, they're MIA.

Well, at some point, DC decided to address what happened. And somehow, this is the story they put on the page.

And, honestly, this sort of story makes more sense than 85% of what you're going to find in the typical Silver Age Superman story.


Mad Men

Did everyone get the important tip for office safety in this week's episode of Mad Men?


Not picking up JSA anymore

For the record, I'm agreeing with Simon and dropping JSA in December, if not before. Makes League cry, but... this just doesn't look fun.

Schwapp! sums it up nicely.

Also, the perspective or something is completely off on the ocver to JSA All-Stars #1. Without getting too much into it, as an example, Cyclone (front right) looks like she was drawn in at the last second by an 8th grader who doesn't know how big parts are, or where they really need to go.


sometimes it helps to look at your drawing before inking and coloring it

Comic Previews and My Precognitive Abilities

A few days ago I was going through some Superman back issues and stumbled across a cover with 70's-era Superman buddy/ foil, Vartox, the character with the worst design in all of comic-dom. I paused and said to myself: they should really find a way to bring this guy back, without changing a damned thing.

Well, not change anything other than how seriously a reader in 2009 is likely to take ol' Vartox.


Vartox, by the way, is most likely what a very drunk comic artist decided was acceptable after seeing Sean Connery in the worst costume of all time in Zardoz.

Well, ask and ye shall receive. DC December 2009 Solicitations were released Monday.

Power Girl #7, coming in December:


The fellow on the ground is Dr. Mid-Nite. He is cool.

I am really growing to like this Power Girl comic.

Many items

Football Update

Well, we can mark another win up for UT from this weekend. We're ranked #3, which is odd. Of course, we've only lost to Tech who seems headed for all kinds of glories this season.

Colt still looks great, but its clear someone or something is keeping him from running. And something has rattled him and keeps him from attempting passes further than a few yards at a time.

I am still rooting for my Horns, and I think we're set for a great bowl game this year, provided we can win our next two and do well if we're in the Big 12 Championship (if we so land). But I sincerely hope Mack brown has plans to build up our secondary for next year.

Good BBQ in Giddings

Today we met the A&M contingent of our office halfway between Bryan and Austin in Giddings where we ate meat. Leaguers, if you're on 290, I HIGHLY recommend the City Meat Market. That was some top-notch grub served in true Texas fashion.

And, hell, there were honest to god old school cowboys in there. The kind who could choke the life out of you if the notion so took them. Awesome.

It was one of those places where the smoke is cooked into the walls and you start salivating a bit just walking through the door. And the food totally matched the ambiance and first-smell guesses as to what you would get.

I need to use this winter to begin making BBQ pilgrimages around the state. Meatgrimages, if you will. I want to eat Elgin Sausage in Elgin. I want to eat ribs and beef in Lockhart. Shall I go to New Braunfels for Wurst? Or to Kerrville? What meats did our Czech forebears cook up? What about our Mexican forefathers?

So many meats. So little time.


Unfortunateness

Swedish dance bands from bygone eras.
For some reason I think I linked to an earlier version of this, like, four years ago.

Yeah, go ahead and laugh. Then ask yourself: who had better luck with swinging Swedish women, you or the dudes in "The Schytts"?

That, Leaguers, is the sound of the universe having a good laugh at you.


Beat it!
So I employ Technorati to help me track responses to blog posts. They track, somewhat imperfectly, whether or not someone has linked back to your posts.

A long time ago, I used to get linked around the net. When I don't post on comics, those links tend to dry up. But when I write for Comic Fodder, I notice that I get linked to a lot more often from sources of note (in the comics blogosphere, which is like being a big wheel on the island of misfit toys, I guess). Anyway, it gives me a little thrill to see myself linked elsewhere because (a) it lets me know others are going to come read whatever I wrote, and (b) it lets me know people I care about reading have actually read whatever I wrote. And that, Leaguers, is the blogging circle of life.

One of my fave-rave sites for YEARS has been Heidi MacDonald's "The Beat". So, I was thrilled to see in the links of Technorati that Heidi had linked back to a Comic Fodder article I'd written for last week about the economy and what comic publishers could do to save their skin in these troubled times. But at Technorati, when I clicked on the appropriate link... the article was no longer there.

I was sad. Heidi may have had good reasons for either pulling or never posting the article, but my fifteen minutes of Heidi-powered linked fame was gone, and I was left with nothing but a small reminder of what could have been.

Oh, Heidi... why hast thou removed my linky link?

Okay... yeah, the article was kind of weak.

That said, the guy who wrote the article that spawned my article DID link back (it's the line about "longish think piece"). Which is pretty huge in my world. Unfortunately, Spurge wasn't in the mood to elucidate on what he had in mind. Would have been interesting. Anyway, he's been covering comics and the economy for a few days and its good reading.


New Years Party Update

In case you missed it, here's the official flyer for the Melbotis New Years Hullabalunacy:



To see the invitation, go here.

Nothing will make you believe in the relativity of time like a little bit of a travel. Was it only Thursday afternoon that I left the desert? Was it yesterday afternoon that I wound up at my old office, last night for the service? Then finally eating something? (and why doesn't it occur to me to eat when I'm left to my own devices?)

I was in Austin by Thursday night. Peabo and I dropped my bags, said goodnight to Adriana and hopped over to Kerbey Lane on S. Lamar. The people are all so young inside. You forget out here amongst the families and a-dults that there's this other thing going on. The service is no better at Kerbey Lane now than in 1996 or whenever it was I first hit that location. Peabo, though, has landed himself a beautiful home in my neighborhood of neighborhoods. I'm afraid to ask how he swung that.

He's got a little schnauzer, Homer, and I'd like to say that Homer and I really took to each other, but I sort of get the feeling Homer is a dog who is going to love anybody willing to play with him (not that he's want for attention).

Friday morning was the graveside service. The Memorial Park is lovely in that all-encompassing-green way that the older neighborhoods in Austin tend to be. It's oaks and spanish moss.

Afterward I stopped by Jason's house and then the Wilson's for a few minutes. Then off to my old office on campus at UT where time seems to simultaneously never progress and lurch forward in hops and leaps. They've painted the walls. People have left, people have joined. New furniture. New hardware. New technology. No small amount of jealousy, there, given what they're playing with.

Ran back to Jason's, met up with my parents, Sue and Jason. In separate cars we headed over to the Umlauf Sculpture Garden. And people showed up. Lots of people. Reedo, Larry Lee, a sea of attorneys. I'm still hesitating to guess how many folks.

Afterward, off to Threadgill's with the folks and Sue. Then back to Peabo's where we stayed up until 1:30 AM or so. I miss that with Peabo. If ever a man got my mental wheels spinning, it was that guy. We've been staying up too late since 6th grade, I think.

This morning I was up and out the door before Peabo & Family were up. Wagner picked me up, we hit Maudie's for breakfast, floated around the WestGate area for a while not wishing to wake the guys at Jason's house whom Greg informed us had made a night of it last night, and stayed up entirely too late.

Said my adios to Wagner, met up with the family, had some lunch at Casa G's (I know, I know...) hit the airport. My flight was delayed, which was problematic. You see, last night at 10:00 or so, for some reason The Admiral mentioned that this evening was the 15th. For which I had Lyle Lovett tickets and had completely forgotten.

Long story short, mother nature and ineptitude of both Southwest Airlines and the Las Vegas airport (which had sent my craft) conspired to prevent me from making it home in time. I missed the darn show. Sorry, Lyle.

Now, here was an odd bit about the weekend...

All these folks who have been nothing but a name or some folks I had only heard about in passing... two things.

There's nothing like meeting someone you've never met before and them taking a look at you and saying "I saw you eating Cap'n Crunch!" Or, "We saw you and your brother drinking Jones Soda!" I finally met some folks I'd corresponded with only through this oddity we call the internet. Hello, Diva.

But, but, but... it's not just the League, thank you, Steanso... Over at Adventures of Steanso, my brother dearest occasionally refers to me as "Roundball". The name has no meaning, and was used briefly in reference to a book I read in 3rd grade called, I believe, "Anastasia Krupnick." Anyway, apparently Steanso's Austin based-pals believe my name to be "Roundball". Just as they believe my parents' names to be "The Admiral and KareBear".

Now I mention this as I am now not sure what the future holds.

Jamie and I have decided that in very short order we are placing our house on the market and we're moving back to Austin. If any of you have a job you would like to give me (I require a 6-figure salary, four weeks of vacation, an expense account and a company car), I'm game.

We plan to be back in town before ACL Fest and just as the summer heat is scheduled to break. I want to be back in Austin for a lovely Austin fall, all football games and bright sun and those wonderful Northers blowing through once in a while to remind you that winter will be along shortly.

This has been a surprisingly easy decision, but it's turning into the monumental task that I said it would. But remember what I said back then? No limits. This is the right thing to do, and if I was ever unsure of my choice, the past forty-eight hours has been frought with a thousand whisperings telling me that it's time to get on with it.

So I'm a'coming, Austin, Texas. Me and the whole, darn League of Melbotis. No limits.

So when I get back, and I'm back in my home town, do I have to worry about attorneys on the street leaning out their car windows and shouting "Roundball's back in town!"?

Summer of Superman: Why The League is a Superman Fan

When I was working on the League of Melbotis Awards, I asked for some possible blog topics. Almost half of the respondents asked "Why Superman?"

With the movie coming, I'm hoping to put things in the right context and possibly shed a little light on why I became a fan of Superman as a character, Superman as an industry, and Superman in general.

One of the oddities of being a fan of the Man of Steel is that everyone feels a bit of ownership. As a pop culture icon, Superman is up there with Mickey Mouse and Santa Claus for recognizability. You can chop through Peruvian rain forests for two days and find yourself face to face with a local wearing a Super Hombre shirt who knows, at minimum, Superman can fly, he's invulnerable to most harm and that he's very very strong.

A lot of folks have pegged my comic obsession and interest in Superman as a juvenile interest, primarily due to the marketing of Superman to children. I doubt anyone who has bothered to read a Superman comic over the past several years would feel as if the material were not geared towards children. While the comics of today are simed at adults and "all-ages", there certainly exists a "gee-whiz" aspect to Superman that's undeniable, and perhaps it's that fantasy element which is deemed "childlike". I will be interested to see if these same folks will retain their opinion if the new Superman movie attracts millions of viewers upon it's release, all suddenly Superman fans.

That's okay. From a critical perspective, most pop culture can appear a little silly on the sruface. I personally find the adulation of professional sports to be juvenile, the insistence of celebrity culture to shove starlets down our throats entirely infantile, and the fanboy obsession with trainspotting music and hanging out in garage bands dreaming of "making it" to be a little silly. It's curious that sci-Fi, in all it's many forms, has somehow become an excusable time waster. So has fantasy writing, to an extent. Meanwhile romantic comedies and soap operas are perfectly excusable for millions of people. The truth is: It's all pop culture of one form or another, and all of it just as guilty of flights of fancy.

That said: I've seen the folks who take themselves seriously and consciously behave in a mnner they believe to be "adult". They believe that adulthood means the ending of interest in silly things. I'd rather not turn off the switch in my brain that lets me crack open a comic and peer into another world, simply because some boring life-accountant decided I wasn't spending my time in a way they liked. Just as surely as sports fans would refuse to give up on their games simply because someone pointed out what a collosal time-sink it is to watch people throw around a ball (and, honestly, how much to season tickets cost to professional sports?).

Still, even among comic readers, a Superman fan might not be safe.

Among the fanboys, Superman hit a point of creative stagnation in the 70's that began to make the character less popular for collectors. Superman was not unpopular, but at the time Marvel was having it's triumphs and Batman went from being nearly cancelled to being revived with the Dark Knight work of the late 70's. The release of the first two Superman movies certainly helped the franchise regain a stint of Supermania. In the 1980's, "Crisis on Infinite Earths" and the resulting "Man of Steel" limited series should have put Superman back on top with readers, but an odd thing happened. Miller's "Dark Knight Returns" appeared with it's Clint Eastwood 80's sensibility and painted Superman as a patsy. For many readers appearing during the 80's comic boom, the powerful, naive boy scout was the definitive Superman. For years, DC didn't bother to counter their own image. Instead of giving the world a Superman which comic fans could get behind, DC seemed a victim of their own success and went with Miller/ DKR's take on The Man of Steel.

A generation of comic fans wanting to identify with the hard boiled Dark Knight saw Superman as the old, unwelcome man at the party and believed that the image of Superman was what was behind all those "Bam! Pow! Comics not just for Kids!" headlines they suffered through. Ironic then that it was Batman, the yardstick for comic superhero legitmacy, who had been the one who cemented the idea in the baby-boomers' heads that comics were for dullards.

Anyway, that was the context with which I approached Superman as a comic character. Sort of.

Like everyone else, I'd seen the movies in the theater as a kid. I remember being afraid for Superman when Luthor put the chain with Kryptonite around Superman's neck and kicked him into the pool. That's really my only memory of seeing Superman: The Movie when I was very little. I remember seeing Superman II with Jason, John, Jim and my Dad and Wayne. I remember thinking Superman was sucker for giving up his powers for some dumb girl. I even remember seeing Superman III and being terrified of Robert Vaughn's sister when she melded with the giant computer. Superman IV I wouldn't see until college on a sunny Sunday when I was avoiding doing any homework and my roommates were MIA.

In a lot of ways, I preferred Superman as a movie and cartoon character to the comics. I liked seeing him in action, zipping across the sky, using his superbreath to freeze a lake or flying out of the sky to save school buses. The few Superman comics I picked up off the shelf at the drug store didn't match what I saw in the movies. Superman was often in space with various pastel colored aliens. Luthor had his own planet. Mxyzptlk seemed less like the annoying imp from the cartoons and more like a sinister, near omnipotent genie.

When I was becoming a full-blown comic geek in the mid-80's, I have a firm memory of hanging out with a non-comic collecting classmate and explaining to him, in detail, why Superman could never be interesting. Every comic reader has the same litany of responses on the topic, passed down from geek to geek. In a way, it's an attempt to legitimize one costumed superhero over the other, and maybe, in the process, gain literary credibility for their superhero of choice.

Superman is invulnerable. There's no getting around that one. Bullets bounce off of him. grenades are an incovenience. A lightning strike will wind him, but nothing short of a tactical nuclear strike (or a hand full of kryptonite) is going to put him down.

He has too many powers. How can any character who can do anything the writers dream up possibly be of interest? He could resolve any conflict in the time it takes for him to pick from his catalog of abilities (right down to Super Ventriloquism), and defeat anyone in his path.

Superman is a boy scout. There's no danger to him as a character. There's no chance he'll make the wrong decision.

His secret identity isn't believable. How can a pair of glasses make for a disguise? How could Lois not see through the disguise?

His costume is stupid. He wears his underwear on the outside. He has a cape and shiny red boots.

He's got old fashioned ideas. His rogues gallery is lame. He's a government stooge. He's a fascist. He's a thug in tights. Who could ever believe such a guy would make the choice to help people?

I could.

I don't know when, exactly, it clicked with me. I think it started in high school when I stayed up too late on a Saturday night in 9th grade watching Superman: The Movie with The Admiral. I still recall watching that last shot of Superman in orbit, our hero pretty pleased with the end of the movie and having a good look at his adopted home planet. I turned to the Admiral and said "That was a lot better than I remember it being."

"Yeah," nodded The Admiral. "I always liked that one."

I picked up a few issues of Superman after that, and the same confusion set in. The DCU, at the time, was a little bit of a tough place to just wander into. They weren't as locked into the Marvel formula of having every character explain themselves in every panel.

I picked up some back-issues of "Man of Steel" at some point and understood what Byrne was doing with Superman, although at the time, I think Roger Stern and Co. had already taken over the regular Superman comics. Like the Superman movie, "Man of Steel" humanized Superman in a way I hadn't expected. Superman wasn't some Super Dad there to slap the wrists of wrong-doers. He wasn't a government stooge. Like in the film, Superman was a guy given incredible power, power he could use any way imaginable, and was trying to make the world a better, safer place to be. Perhaps a bit naive in the beginning (taking the boy off the farm, but not the farm out of the boy), but learning fast enough that the bad guys don't always wear the black hats, and that sometimes a victory isn't as clear as it seems.

No movies were coming out by this point, of course, and I'm not sure the syndicated "Superboy" program ever even showed in the two markets I might have lived in during that time. If it did, I was oblivious. Besides, I was into plenty of comics and didn't need to add Superman to my list of titles.

I was still reading X-Men. I was picking up Batman from time to time, depending on the villain (I was a big Two-Face fan), and I had just started picking up these Sandman comics toward the end of high school. At the time, I didn't even know anybody else who read comics. The internet was still something in a Robert Silverberg book (so there certainly weren't any newsgroups about comics), and I hadn't been to a convention since 7th grade.

They killed Superman my senior year of high school, and I remember having to explain to everybody "No, they aren't really killing Superman." Funny how that works. People still ask me once in a blue moon if that was the end of Superman. Of course the big revelation out such a dramatic turn was that Superman got some really outdated glam-metal hair. Even then I knew the worst thing you could do was try to update an icon to "appeal to the teens".

At some point in college, I picked up a few new issues of Superman, but what piqued my interest once again was the amazing Bruce Timm/ Paul Dini animated Superman series. The show delved deeply into Superman's silver age trappings, updating them perhaps stylistically, but never in spirit. All the villains I could remember from a Superman Flipbook my mom got me out of a Troll book order when I was five popped up sooner or later. Only now Toyman was a creepy little bastard with a plastic head instead of a goof on a pogo stick. Bizarro was full of pathos I'd not realized he might contain while destroying the tables at the Legion of Doom HQ on Superfriends. The Animated Luthor was cunning and brilliant, and utterly believable as a foil for the Man of Steel in a way Gene Hackman's Luthor never appeared to be.

What impressed me once again in the cartoon was the rich origin of Superman.

One of the complaints about Superman by comic fans is that unlike, say, Batman, Superman was born to his powers. But that isn't quite true. The explosion of Krypton, the loss of not just a family he would never know, but a planet he would never know, sent by parents who refused to give in to loss and send forth their only son into the cosmic void... Yes, Superman's powers are not derived from years spent training, any more than that of the Fantastic Four, Spider-Man or any others of hundreds of comic book heroes (see: X-Men).

The pained conversation in Superman: The Movie between Jor-El and Lara deciding upon the fate of their child tells you all you need to know. In vague, knowing terms the dialogue establishes that they know their son will never, ever truly belong, as cursed by his abilities as he is blessed.

It's a theme that's been explored in dozens of motifs in comics, probably most prominently in Spider-Man. Perhaps it's the grounding and relatable loss of Spider-Man's Uncle Ben rather than the catastrophic and unimaginable loss of your birth planet that seems somehow more sympathetic. But the idea that the super powers came at a price came from Superman, Batman's origin appearing well after his initial appearances. And, of course, Spider-Man and Marvel's complement of heroes came along decades after Superman's first appearance.

And, of course, the goodly Kents appeared in the cartoon as they had in the earliest episode of the George Reeves series, the Christopher Reeve film, the Silver Age comics and the Byrne comics. Guidance and honest discussion of the life his powers might bring him were the gift from his earthly parents.

So what was the difference? Why Superman?

There's the cultural archaeology of a character who has survived 67 years of the expanding American media world. There's the core of characters (friend and foe) who have made the trip alongside Superman in virtually every media from radio to internet shorts. In short, the character has thrived like none other over since the invention the super hero comic with Superman's first appearance.

He's a character everybody has some knowledge of, and who can spark conversations with just about anyone. On Wednesday I found myself standing in my sweltering house talking to the 60 year-old air conditioner repairman about George Reeves as the repairman eyed Superman floating above the Daily Planet globe (a newspaper name probably as widely known as any actual paper shy of the New York Times). Little kids point to the license plate on the front of my car in busy parking lots. More than once when I've worn a Superman shirt to work (under an oxford) someone in the elevator has looked to me and said "now I know your secret identity" with a knowing nod.

Of late it's been trendy for trucks to sport Superman stickers, perhaps suggesting that the truck is as powerful as the Man of Steel.

Seinfeld dedicated a whole episode to the comic geek friendly notion of "Bizarro".

So if Superman is all of those things that people equate with him, what is there to like?

Superman is the original superhero, and whether the average guy on the street knows that Superman was the first costumed super-powered character of his ilk is almost irrelevant. He's the most imitated, satirized and flat out copied comic character. The concept has been refined and splintered into thousands of new characters since Action Comics #1 saw print, some of whom have existed alongside Superman for almost the same amount of time (and others who pre-dated Superman and were co-opted into the world of super heroes). But all of them have some hint of Superman about them.

It's no doubt the longevity of the character and the various strictures of the time and company have often left Superman looking like a goofy do-gooder. The tendency to mistake brainless entertainment for children's and all-ages entertainment has too often affected the ace of action. With as much Superman product as has existed over the years, not all of it was going to be brilliant. Yet the character continues to find an audience, his career outlasting Sinatra, Elvis, and dozens of other icons of the 20th Century.

At the character's heart, Superman has managed to symbolize many things to many people. As often as Superman is invoked as a sign of invulnerability, his one weakness is brought up just as often. "Kryptonite" has become a synonym for a sure weakness for the seemingly strong.

However, it's in Superman The Movie that we learn that Kryptonite may be what weakens Superman, but it's his humanity that is his greatest vulnerability. No man, no matter how Super, can be everywhere at once. And with the (temporary) death of Lois Lane, we see Superman wounded to his absolute core in his grief, just as he was at the loss of Jonathan Kent. "All these powers" Clark Kent reflects at the loss of his adopted father, "and I couldn't save him."

For me, that's the weakness I can understand. Too many powers? Not enough, we're led to believe. Not enough if you can't save the ones who matter most.

If there's no danger to him as a character, I'll accept that as a criticism. The story of Superman is not the story of a character constantly compromised, nor a character who wishes to be seen as frightening to any but those caught in the act. He's the embodiment of trying to make the right choices and trying to live at the assistance of others. Rather than a sign of lack of will, Superman's character is reflective of what can be achieved by someone who has decided to live selflessly at the aid of others.

We throw around the term "super powers" in relation to governments, but just as often, Superman's dangerous potential is treated with the same cautionary wind reserved for our states of unimaginable power. In the comics, the Luthors of the world see the power and are jealous, seeing in Superman the power to topple mountains. They refuse to believe in a man who could have all of that power and not use it for personal gain, not turn upon his fellow man. How can he weild such power and not choose to enforce his will, not choose to become the single-minded fascist who crushes his will down upon the world? How can a man not reflect what they see in themselves?

Just as often, there are the readers of the comics and the viewers of the movies who turn their nose up, raising the same questions. But these readers and fans are missing the point. The story of Superman is a story of hope.

Superman is about what can be done when we not only turn away from those desires to control and destroy, but when we use that power for the right reasons and in the right way. The actual stories in the comics, in the movies, in the TV series and radio show are about that never ending battle to not only combat the endless tide of the strong over the powerless, but the struggle to know the right choice.

They can be a great people, Kal-El. They wish to be. They only lack the light to show them the way.

Does this make the character less relatable? Perhaps to some. To me, it's a wonderful story. It's a reminder of the potential of everyone to do the right thing, and to remember that everyone has the opportunity to make the right choices. I think that inherent message is what's kept Superman flying for seven decades.

As longtime readers of this blog will know, things aren't always peaches and cream at League HQ. There are the times I wish I could spin the earth backward or lift the bus off the bridge if it could help in the smallest of ways. I don't mind cracking open a Superman comic to remind me that the good fight is a never-ending battle, that it's worth it, and it doesn't hurt if you do it for the woman you love (even if she doesn't recognize you when you're wearing glasses).

THE TOP-DRAWER TENTH QUESTION

Time Travel. It's completely impossible (sorry Star Trek), and the very concept drives Jim D. into a mad frenzy for reasons he will actually go into all on his own. Yet film after film and cheap paperback after cheap paperback and an endless flood of comics and Twilight Zone episodes dwell on the possibility of "yeah, but what if...?" Plus, Jim kept bugging me about a time travel paradox question and some book he'd just read while I was working on my list.

So, we at The League of Melbotis, felt a time-travel question was a good one to ask Loyal Leaguers. After all, you all seem like a mass of insecurity and regret. But you can't really do this right without giving people a chance to change both themself and the world.

On to the question...

Question 10:

If I had a time machine with a single use, and my time travelling would not be filled with all sorts of crazy logic problems, I would go back to fix this one thing this year
--in my personal life
--on a more macrocosmic level

Eric Nordtrom:

--in my personal life
I wouldn't have allowed that thief to get ahold of my debit card number.
--on a more macrocosmic level
I'd have gone back to the Sunday before the levees broke, and chartered a convoy of buses to take everyone from New Orleans to ...
Ohio.


Tamara:

--in my personal life:

Switch actual LSAT score with best practice LSAT score. Come to think of it: Switch out actual day-to-day life generally with best practice day-to-day life.

--on a more macrocosmic level:

(editor's note: no answer)


Natalie:

--in my personal life: My marriage, but I truly believe it was unfixable (if that's a word).
--on a more macrocosmic level: The evacuation plan for New Orleans -- they should have bussed people out BEFORE the hurricane not after.

Jim D.:

First off, I don't believe you can use time travel to go back and "fix" anything. This is what irks me about time travel fiction in film and books. For the literary theory of time travel to be consistent, the time traveler can only play a role (known or more likely, unknown) in bringing about that which is already happened. He or she may attempt to change things or to bring about a different history, but whatever he or she does, he or she will only influence history in a way that will bring about the history we already know. So, on that level, this question is moot. But I don't think The League was seeking quite a nerdy objection to its question, so I must proceed.

--in my personal life

I doubt there is anything "this year" that I would go back and change. Really, any ripple effect from a temporal change would need to begin at least several years ago, as my life has been mostly the same for quite some time. I might go back to the summer of 1998 and tell myself to accept the job in Manhattan. I wonder how my life would have ended up if I had taken that job. Would I still be in NYC? Would I have ever gone to law school? If so, would I have gone to Baylor? What would I be doing now? Where would I be? Would you be reading this right now? Would the Mellies exist? Would the League's site? I might go back to 1994 and tell myself to study abroad (or at least, study more at home).

--on a more macrocosmic level

I don't know if I would want the responsibility of changing something on the macrocosmic level. I suppose the proper answer is to warn of or attempt to prevent some type of disaster or attack. I don't know what I would do. I would probably just prevent George Lucas from making (or remaking or reworking or redoing) any film after Empire Strikes Back). Sure, we would lose Indy, but I'm comfortable with that, especially since they are soon to ruin that franchise with a new sequel (and the second and third installments weren't that good to begin with, anyway).


Ryan V.:

--in my personal life
--on a more macrocosmic level

I have no regrets. Or at least I’m not admitting them on my public blog.


Peabo:

--in my personal life
Never make someone who has done nothing to prove his value a partner in your firm.

--on a more macrocosmic level
I might have told that guy to hold off on the cartoon of Mohammed. Not that I have a problem with it in any way, but lots of people died. Over a cartoon. A cartoon. But military action is not the way to resolve problems, we should really get the angry cartoon killers back at the negotiating table. I’m sure there is a lot of fruitful discussion to be had with people who advocate the wholesale destruction of another nation and deny the Holocaust ever happened. These people clearly have the mindset to reach a compromise and a roadmap to peace.


Denise:

-None come to mind. I might not be the same person if I changed past events. You know….don’t mess with the whole “space-time continuum”

RHPT:

• in my personal life

Clearly I would fix my failure to win a single Powerball drawing.

• on a more macrocosmic level

Hurricane Katrina. I don't know how, but that's what I would fix.

Nathan:
--in my personal life: I'd eat better.
--on a more macrocosmic level: I'd help evacuate people from New Orleans sooner.

Social Bobcat:

--in my personal life
-would have called my grandfather on his birthday

--on a more macrocosmic level
-would have called my grandfather on his birthday to tell him that i'd just won a million dollars on sports gambling in Vegas


Maxwell:

--in my personal life:
I had an interview at a network and I was offered coffee and I took it and I was drinking my coffee in the interview and I missed my mouth in the interview and spilled the coffee on myself. And uh. I wouldn't do that.

--on a more macrocosmic level:
More recycling.


Harms:
--in my personal life
My personal life has never been better. I'm in love with my girlfriend and think she's the best girlfriend ever.

--on a more macrocosmic level
I'd like to record every failure of communication within all levels of government in terms of Katrina. I'd like to show this to the world as a demonstration of why great companies fail and why a "CEO president" is something we should run away from, fast.


Steanso:

personal- go back in time and get out of my old job much sooner. I kept working there in the hopes that things would get better, but they just got worse and worse and finally I got laid off.

macrocosmic- I'd go back and warn those New Orleanians that Hurricane Katrina was bringing her own little judgement day along with her.


CrackBass:

--in my personal life: quit old job sooner, taken more time off in between old and new jobs
--on a more macrocosmic level:
eliminate dick cheney and or karl rove

Reed-o:
--in my personal life

Valentine's Day 2006 (don't even ask; let's just say I screwed up on this day for the first time in the 13 years that we have been going out / married)

And if I could go back farther than this year, the Wilson Festivus 2004 party

--on a more macrocosmic level

I can't even began to narrow this down. It would be any number of the rotten things that our government has done to the world and it's own citizens over the past year. I would do everthing in my power to stop it. I don't have any more time to pick out one specific thing (sorry, it's 12:30 CST on March 15th).

D. Loyd: Too early to say.
--in my personal life. Family issues.
--on a more macrocosmic level. Aliens!

Jamie:
Personal - I would have gone to my plasmapheresis treatments more often. Maybe I wouldn't be on dialysis now if I had.

Macrocosmic - I would have evacuated everyone from the New Orleans/Gulf Coast area and have improved the levees to handle a category 5 hurricane. This is all prior to Katrina, of course.

The League:

Personal - I would not have shot that man in Reno just to watch him die.

ah, heck... I would probably not have spent each and every weekend watching VH1. I probably would have tried to make something of my life. Whoops. Too late.

Also, probably should have tried to train Lucy at some point.

MacroCosmic - Stopped Galactus, Eater of Planets, from destroying Marklarr VII, home of a crystalline intelligence unlike any known in the 4 quadrants of the Faizuul Nebula.

Also, maybe, done some Paul Revere work to try to save New Orleans and/ or the residents.


RESULTS:

How do some of you have no regrets from the past year? Jesus. That's some serious confidence. Or something.

I think we're agreed that Katrina blew chunks. As well as Rita (sorry about all that displacement, Jim D.).

Mr. Bobcat gets special points for maybe winning a million dollars (I have some great investment opportunities if you're looking to make a lot of money in the Arizona Ocean-Front Property business. Actually, that's the plot to Superman I, isn't it?).

For a guy who actually was kicked out of his home for a few weeks by a natural disaster, Jim D. remains philosophical. However, he was a Rita victim and probably knew to get the hell out of the way.

Harms probably meant to be darling, but I've noticed his girlfriend is now in every answer. I may need to start making fun of you now.

Tamara gets triple points for the "LSAT" response.

Nat, didn't know about the divorce. The guy was a bastard and you're better off without him. Now, if you're looking to start over and are looking for a guy who is a lot like, uh... Chewbacca... may I suggest Steanso..? He's a unique fixer-upper-opportunity.

Peabo, I just want to know how you would phrase it to the Danish cartoonist that their doodle was going to lead to dozens to deaths and weeks of rioting without making him think you were some sort of loony doomsday prophet.

Jamie's medical history isn't much to snicker about, and we're really not sure if extra pheresis would have helped. To be truthful, she seemed to be getting sick from the treatments for a while there, so I dunno what I would have done differently. Last year sucked.

I can also say that, if I knew more than five of you were going to respond, my list of questions would have been a lot shorter. Getting these results up has officially turned into work. When was the last time I had a normal post? Ah, hell... you monkeys probably are enjoying this more than the usual Superman-related post.

The Interview

Over at Cowgirl Funk a friend recently interviewed Maxwell. The format: 5 questions of the interviewee's choosing.

Read the interview here

At the end of the interview, Maxwell suggested that anyone else who wanted to play could post to the comments section. Totally without any ideas for content this week, I opted in. Also, I was deadly curious to hear what questions Maxwell would toss The League's way.

This is how the interview went down:

1. I heard you like comic books. Oh, I don't know, a little bird told me. Do you remember getting your first comic book? (And if not, tell us about the first one you remember.) Where did you buy it? What
was the story line? Etc.

The first comic I remember reading was a Bugs Bunny comic book where he was singing "I Dream of the Genie with the Long Pink Ears". I didn't get the joke. But I liked the pictures and I could hear the character's voices in my head as I read along. No idea where it came from. I just had it.

The first non-kiddie comic I remember was either an adaptation of “The Last Starfighter” or “Clash of the Titans”. I didn’t actually see Clash of the Titans until high school, but I knew the whole movie back and forth from reading and re-reading the Marvel Comics adaptation. The art was fairly good, and the story really lended itself to the comic format. I think I got it through Troll Book Order.

The first superhero comic I remember reading was probably a DC 80 Page Giant with a lead story about the Teen Titans. The story was that all of the adult superheroes had died or disappeared and only the Teen Titans were left to fight the bad guys. I have no idea what the comic was, but I do remember being totally freaked out by the death of all the adult superheroes. If anyone could ever tell me what that comic was, I’d be eternally grateful.

The comic which got me to begin following a comic (and I am ashamed to admit this) was West Coast Avengers #13. Some dude named Gravitron was working with other supervillains using the various forces inside of a atom (Gravity, Strong force, Weak Force, Electro magnetic force).

I think I got both this comic and the Teen Titans comic at the Chicago airport.

None of this held a candle to X-Men #210 which launched me into a lifetime of obsessive behavior.

What is the best superpower ever and which superhero uses it?

The best super power is probably being able to show no discernable talent and still have your own TV show and best selling album, and that honor goes to both Jessica and Ashlee Simpson.

Most of the powers are pretty self-explanatory, but in the 90's, you sort of had to like Kid Eternity. Kid Eternity's weird-ass power was to be able to summon dead people from the afterlife to assist him in his adventures. Stuck on a physics problem: BAM! Nikola Tesla at your service.

Shade the Changing Man's power was that he was crazy, and whatever craziness he was perceiving would become reality around him. I think. The book eventually collapsed in a black hole of it's own weirdness. Actually, the 90's was a great era for Vertigo-style weirdo's, wasn't it?


2. My ten year high school reunion just happened.
Naw, I didn't go, but it got me thinking about the early 90's. You know, you were there. Answer these questions from the perspective of high school you.

Favorite shoes: Being a complete bad-ass in high-school, I wore only cool shoes. I had the pre-req Doc’s and Chuck’s, but I honestly really liked wearing black, high-top Nikes. I admit, I still but new ones every once in a while. The early 90's continue to thrive on the feet of Ryan Steans.

Favorite shirt: 90’s? Oh, whatever concert shirt I thought made me look the most alt-rock. I had a very worn out Jane’s Addiction shirt I was quite fond of. Also, any solid black t-shirt was welcome. Yes, I was "that guy". Trying depsrately to be dark and mysterious, but, like everyone else, it's hard to be too tortured when you have doting parents and college-plans.

Favorite book I had to read: Like an assignment? I was the only person in my class who I think liked Scarlet Letter. But that’s probably because I deeply enjoy anything about people with red-letters printed on their chest. Also, I like reading about tramps.

I have little memory of what we were forced to read. I like Huckleberry Finn.

Favorite place to take a girl out for dinner: Well, The League was not a man of great means, and was more or less locked into taking 1 girl most places for most of high school. And we sort of don’t remember. It was probably the Bennigan’s at I-45 and 1960. Jesus, Spring was @#$%ing lame.

There was nowhere to go back then, and as I had a regular girlfriend I was footing the bill for, I was also the frugal boyfriend.

Favorite place to eat with my family: Marco’s! We all loved Marco’s Mexican Restaurant! Sure, we all got horrible gas and we all knew the stories about the recycled chips and we all knew people who worked there who would look really, really bored. But there was never any wait, I knew the menu backward and forward and it was loud enough that it drowned out the honking sounds my family tends to make when we're all at a single table.

Favorite before rehearsal snack: I’m not sure, specifically, what I liked to eat, but I do remember if I knew I had a kissing scene to work on that day I would eat a bag of “FunYuns” before rehearsal. I also would get the sandwiches from the gas station over by North Hampton. Also, Fritos.

Best band ever, man: I was all about the Jane’s Addiction in high school. My mother was always very upset with my Jane’s Addiction posters. Pixies, Violent Femmes, Siouxsie, The Cure, Pink Floyd and a host of less memorable bands. These days, Jane’s Addiction makes me sad. I mean, Dave Navarro, what sort of VH1 whore have you become?

It has been very strange to see Jane's Addiction become a standard for frat boys over the years. I sort of wish I'd done more than just watch 120 minutes to pick my bands.

I made a mix tape yesterday.
It started with: The Cure, “Killing an Arab”
It ended with: Pixies “Digging for Fire”

For lunch today I had: The hot lunch, whatever that was. I never liked the KO snack bar with the burgers and pizza. Also, the KO snack machines had these banana-flavored Hostess Pies that nobody else in the school liked. About once a week I’d get one of those. And every single day I tortured my dentist by getting a pack of “Now & Laters” from the book store.

Later I'm gonna watch: I didn’t watch normal TV in high school. I didn’t know what Home Improvement was until it went into syndication. Big, big fan of “USA Up All Night” movies and “Mystery Science Theater 3000”. I watched the Channel 2 News every night and I had a pathological hatred of former weatherman, Doug Johnston. That guy is such a @#$%.

This weekend I'm going to Lowes to see: Anything that comes to Lowes I perceive to be sort of snooty. Sadly, this is Lowes, so that means going to see something like “Dances With Wolves”. We also bypassed Lowes and drove up to the AMC at Greens Crossing.

The other day, the craziest thing happened: I learned that the Green Room in the theater is clothing optional. Other items I’m going to have to plead the 5th on. I am kicking myself trying to think of something crazy which I feel would be appropriate for my mother-in-law's reading pleasure, and nothing is coming to me.


There's this one janitor that likes to hug people: And I tried to hide from her under the benches in the lobby of the auditorium, but she grabbed my belt and literally drug me out from under the bench to give me a hug. And when I mentioned it to my parents, I found out weeks and weeks later (to my eternal horror) that my mother had called the school to yell at them about the janitor hugging me.

3. So, you live in the desert. Ever been to Sedona?
I hear it's a real hippy town.

This is a lie, and, sadly, no… I’ve never been there despite the proximity to Phoenix.

Sedona was once a hippy town, and then rich ass-wipes went to see the crazy hippy town, bought all the land and turned it into a vacation spot for the wealthy. Because Sedona is pretty, and not a bleak armpit like much of the Valley, the town is officially a playground for people who no longer have to work for a living. Houses run well into the millions, the shops are all over-priced antique boutiques, and the traffic getting in and out of town on the weekend is a nightmare as all the boring middle-class ass-wipes drive up to Sedona on the weekend because, aside from golf, there’s @#$%-all to do in Phoenix on the average weekend.

I have heard there are still a few hippy towns and communes scattered around Arizona. No idea where they are as we never leave The Valley of the Sun.

I have a buddy who lives in Sedona who got some insane retirement package and built a house with mountain views, but somehow we never plan far enough ahead to go and mooch off my pal.

According to the photos I see and the endless hours our PBS affiliate dedicates to showing elsewhere, AZ is a stunningly beautiful state. Just not around here.


4. You once said you would make yourself available to casting directors trying to cast blockbusters. Who would play you in a movie?

Clearly, Andy Richter would play the adult League. Young League would be played by someone curiously thinner and better looking. Maybe Taye Diggs? Mrs. League would be played by Kerri Kenney, Jeff the Cat would be played by Jean Reno (in a cat suit), Melbotis is played by Jeff Bridges (in a yellow dog suit), and Lucy would be played by a very drunk Dakota Fanning.

Also, Steanso would be played by Christopher Walken in a bear suit.

5. What is your favorite Starbucks beverage and why? How do you think this reflects on your personality?

The Cappucino. The League has been trying to get a good cappuccino since leaving Austin (the coffee shop at the RLM had a barista who made insanely good cappuccinos), and one must also consider the fact that The League is rigidly, suffocatingly traditional. We don’t need any fancy double-decaf mocha freezes. Just give me like five shots of espresso and some foam, dammit.


END INTERVIEW


If you want to play along, feel free to raise your hand down in the comments section. The League will ask 5 questions. You may post to your own blog, or we shall post here, if you like.

In the next day or two I'll be sending Maxwell questions, and we'll see how it goes from there.