Quadrennial Post
Every four years, we have the opportunity to wish happy birthday to someone who ... well, who technically doesn't exist, but I don't think that should stop us.
I mean, of course, that "visitor from another planet ... with powers and abilities beyond those of mortal men," Clark Kent/Superman/Kal-El.
For me, the definitive Superman will always be the one of the late '80s and early '90s -- after the Great Reboot, when they humanized him, not by depowering as had been done repeatedly in the past, but by making it clear that Superman was just a costume Clark Kent put on to protect his privacy. The comic was about Clark Kent, even when he was in the red-yellow-and-blue suit, and his friends: Lois, Jimmy, Perry, Bibbo, and many others.
It had a certain soap-opera quality to it, I admit. But I loved it.
This is not to deny the joy of other eras of Superman. I gave up shortly after the death-and-rebirth silliness, so I've missed an Electric Superman, among others; but I clearly remember the ultrapowerful Superman of the '60s, who moved planets by main strength, who could fly through time at will, and whose telescopic/microscopic vision could pick out a microbe in a distant galaxy -- in realtime, at that (the most amazing thing about his vision powers, folks: they weren't limited by the speed of light). In those days I was more into Superboy, particularly his adventures with the 30th-Century Legion of Super-Heroes.
(Do I meander? Indeed I do.)
Superman would be nice to have in the real world. He could have spotted Osama binLadn and picked him up, avoiding the whole trouble of wandering around Tora Bora accomplishing nothing. (He wouldn't have cleaned up Afghanistan for us; he always takes the ethical point of view that he can't interfere with political processes, even war. This is a good thing: otherwise he'd inevitably have to set himself up as a dictator.) There would have been no need/excuse to invade Iraq -- one glance with the telescopic-X-ray vision and we'd have known the state of Saddam's weapons programs (i.e., none to speak of).
Happy birthday, ya big blue boy scout. Long may your cape wave.
I mean, of course, that "visitor from another planet ... with powers and abilities beyond those of mortal men," Clark Kent/Superman/Kal-El.
For me, the definitive Superman will always be the one of the late '80s and early '90s -- after the Great Reboot, when they humanized him, not by depowering as had been done repeatedly in the past, but by making it clear that Superman was just a costume Clark Kent put on to protect his privacy. The comic was about Clark Kent, even when he was in the red-yellow-and-blue suit, and his friends: Lois, Jimmy, Perry, Bibbo, and many others.
It had a certain soap-opera quality to it, I admit. But I loved it.
This is not to deny the joy of other eras of Superman. I gave up shortly after the death-and-rebirth silliness, so I've missed an Electric Superman, among others; but I clearly remember the ultrapowerful Superman of the '60s, who moved planets by main strength, who could fly through time at will, and whose telescopic/microscopic vision could pick out a microbe in a distant galaxy -- in realtime, at that (the most amazing thing about his vision powers, folks: they weren't limited by the speed of light). In those days I was more into Superboy, particularly his adventures with the 30th-Century Legion of Super-Heroes.
(Do I meander? Indeed I do.)
Superman would be nice to have in the real world. He could have spotted Osama binLadn and picked him up, avoiding the whole trouble of wandering around Tora Bora accomplishing nothing. (He wouldn't have cleaned up Afghanistan for us; he always takes the ethical point of view that he can't interfere with political processes, even war. This is a good thing: otherwise he'd inevitably have to set himself up as a dictator.) There would have been no need/excuse to invade Iraq -- one glance with the telescopic-X-ray vision and we'd have known the state of Saddam's weapons programs (i.e., none to speak of).
Happy birthday, ya big blue boy scout. Long may your cape wave.