Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Wednesday, December 18, 2013


I was driving home from work the other day when a thought came to me.
How cool would it be to have Superman as a neighbor!  We all have these little problems from time to time that require jumping through hoops to overcome.  Big problems for us but a walk in the park for Superman.  He can easily lift your car off the ground so you can stand up while changing your oil and chit chat while he's doing it.
"Hey Superman, I'm about to clean the chimney.  How bout a hand?"  Childs play... He'll just fly to the top of the house and blow the dirt down the chimney and test it out with his heat vision.

Even though he'd gladly help out in a neighborly way, I don't think I'd feel right imposing on our friendship by asking him to do my chores.  He has his own chores to do, like mowing the lawn and dead-heading the roses.  Ok, so he can run at light speed but his mower blades can go only so fast and that means the man of steel has no choice but to take his time and stroll behind his push mower like any other property owner.  

Just like anyone else, I'll bet Superman really needs some R & R from fighting crime 24/7/365.  Just because he's an alien in a strange world doesn't mean he should be expected to jump up and fix every little emergency that comes along.  Superman needs a vacation too and I'll bet he would love to hang out with humans, other than Jimmy and Lois, and just let his hair down and be himself. 

Superman doesn't smoke, drink or swear and that might be the reason he spends all his time working at the Daily Planet pretending to be human.  As if journalists don't smoke, drink or swear.  That just shows you how hard it must be for a total alien to blend, even for the man of steel.  He never gets to hang with his peer group because he has no peers.  They all died when Krypton blew up.  Superman stands alone as a super hero pretending to be human, where all the other super heroes are humans wearing masks when they transform.  The only time he can truly be himself is when he dons his tights and cape, gets into his alien god character and flies off to serve his adopted race, helping those too stupid and weak to help themselves.

I think all Superman needs is some real people to hang with who won't ask him to do tricks.

me:  Hey Superman, I'm having a little party next door.  Wanna stop by for some burgers and beer?

Superman:  I don't drink.

me:  Why not?  It's not like you'll get drunk or anything.  You can drink a river of rum and still fly a straight line.

Superman:  I don't smoke, drink or swear.

me:  Do you eat clams?

Superman:  I love clams.  I'll be right over.

As the steaks are charing, Superman makes his entrance by gliding over the tree tops and does a soft landing in the back yard by the beer cooler, where one of the guests offer him a beer.  He looks at it as if he's using x ray vision to see what's inside when someone says, "Go on, S man, crack it open.  It's not like you'll fly into trees and piss your tights."  Soon, the man of steel slam his first of many Yuenglings and lets out a belch that downs three walnut trees in the meadow, raising gales of laughter and rebel yells from the semi-inebriated party guests.

The only fly in the ointment is Superman's zero tolerance for law breakers.  No one dares fire up a joint while this alien top cop is hanging around and Superman's total memory recall has already pulled a rap sheet on every felon at this gathering and he's making everyone nervous with his pointed questions about overdue library books, oxycontin sales, meth labs, and talks of revolution 100 yards away in the basement with all the doors and windows closed while the living room music was up full blast.
It's obvious.  This guy is potentially dangerous, in a very extreme way.

Soon, the idea of partying with Superman doesn't sound like a good idea.  This guy, with his super hearing, super eyesight, and total memory recall is worse than a party full of NSA agents on steroids.  His invulnerability and super strength ensures he always gets his way, usually bypassing the judicial system and depositing lawbreakers in the prison of his choice.  A lifetime of superior intellect and zero tolerance for lawbreakers, with never so much as a challenge, argument, or disagreement from any human as to how he dishes out his single-minded form of immediate justice, produced an alien super being, secretly living amongst us, who has never experienced any kind of opposition to his will.  In short, a bully disguised as a good guy who dresses funny, with little more than a code of conduct preventing him from laying waste to the entire planet.

Now that I think about it, I'd prefer Superman to stay as far away from humanity as possible and thank god his little space ship crashed in Nebraska instead of Nazi Germany.

By comparison, Lex Luthor would be more fun to hang with.

It seems Superman needs Jimmy and Lois more than they need him.
Truly, a stranger in a strange land without a hope of ever knowing what being human is like.  No peers, no friends, and his closest relationships are a couple of nosy reporters who talk about him behind his back and worship him for what he can do for them.

I find Superman to be a pitiable creature and he has my deepest sympathies. 



Saturday, December 14, 2013

stuff up the cracks, highway star

I was surfing Jon Lord and through tangents and torrents I ended up with this little Zappa gem that cycled me down to a simpler time of love and death angst.

But, then again, Jon Lord had his own version of love and death angst in the form of a Hammond C3 organ driving through Marshall speakers in an effort to match the attack and volume of Blackmore's guitar in Highway Star.

One is white port and lemon juice.  The other is speed and black Afghanistan at 40 bucks an ounce.

In case you're wondering why they don't make music like this anymore... They're all dead, leaving the rest of us with survival angst.

I tried playing both of these tunes at the same time, thinking it might have the same effect as mixing cocaine and heroin.  It doesn't.  But don't take my word for it.  Last I heard, music is still a legal high, so experiment away!
So, what'll it be?  Sedation or adrenaline? 

Thursday, December 05, 2013

smithsonian flash mob

This one brought tears to my eyes.