An Essay Concerning the True Extent and Nature of Superman
CHAPTER ONE: Of Superman
Superman is a pussy. Look at him, a little Boy Scout cunt flying around with his pseudo-omnipotence. What a loser.
A superhero that can do anything remains entertaining for about a day. At least with Batman we had an actual human who was vulnerable and perhaps even a bit suicidal. But Superman? Pussy.
CHAPTER TWO: Of Superman's Clothes
And what's with those clothes? What is this, Halloween? Even if we do excuse the dork as being colour-blind, the point remains that the guy appears to have gotten his pants from a theatre student.
Combine this with his underwear being outside his pants and his wearing a cape, and we come to realize that Superman must have an IQ of about two.
CHAPTER THREE: Of Superman's Observers
What the hell is wrong with these morons? Why would anyone stop in the middle of the sidewalk, look up in the sky, point, and yell, "Look, it's a bird!"? Excuse for a second that only a retard could confuse a bird with a flyering pussy like Superman.
CHAPTER FOUR: What to Do With Superman
It's clear beyond question that Superman is a pussy. We are thus presented with certain options. We could kill him, but this would require finding Kryptonite, and we're lazy. Besides, a much better solution presents itself: apathy. If we ignore Superman, he'll just go away. Probably cry a little, too.
CHAPTER FIVE: To Hell With Superman
The conclusion is undeniable: Superman is a pussy, nobody likes him, and Batman is way cooler. The end.
Superman is a pussy. Look at him, a little Boy Scout cunt flying around with his pseudo-omnipotence. What a loser.
A superhero that can do anything remains entertaining for about a day. At least with Batman we had an actual human who was vulnerable and perhaps even a bit suicidal. But Superman? Pussy.
CHAPTER TWO: Of Superman's Clothes
And what's with those clothes? What is this, Halloween? Even if we do excuse the dork as being colour-blind, the point remains that the guy appears to have gotten his pants from a theatre student.
Combine this with his underwear being outside his pants and his wearing a cape, and we come to realize that Superman must have an IQ of about two.
CHAPTER THREE: Of Superman's Observers
What the hell is wrong with these morons? Why would anyone stop in the middle of the sidewalk, look up in the sky, point, and yell, "Look, it's a bird!"? Excuse for a second that only a retard could confuse a bird with a flyering pussy like Superman.
CHAPTER FOUR: What to Do With Superman
It's clear beyond question that Superman is a pussy. We are thus presented with certain options. We could kill him, but this would require finding Kryptonite, and we're lazy. Besides, a much better solution presents itself: apathy. If we ignore Superman, he'll just go away. Probably cry a little, too.
CHAPTER FIVE: To Hell With Superman
The conclusion is undeniable: Superman is a pussy, nobody likes him, and Batman is way cooler. The end.