Sunday, March 04, 2007

The Daily Planet can evidently do without my subscription.

There are fewer things more likely to rouse the ire of a man of honour and dignity than seeing his friends dragged through the gutter press when the mortal frames they have left behind them on their trip to the Elysian Fields have barely begun to cool. Imagine, if you can, the towering rage that gripped me at the instant that I espied the following article in Friday's edition of that enduring testament to yellow journalism, the Daily Planet.

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It continues in this vein.

"Ralph Dibny's fall from grace was not because he flew through a red sun. For you people. Not that you aren't grateful enough or anything, but I'm noticing there's been a distinct tailing off in visitors to the Superman Statue. Just putting that out there. Maybe if Superman was writing this article, he'd take the time to point out that he's given himself man-tits to save your sorry asses and it might perk him up slightly if he saw a few more people going and spending some time there. There was this one time this old guy in a wheelchair turned up in his WWII uniform and saluted it, and that made my whole weekend. That really made it seem worthwhile. And I'm sure Superman would have felt the same way if he'd seen it.

"We're two different people.

"No, Ralph Dibny's fall from grace was not because he flew through a red sun. It was because of the spectre of mental illness. Harold Chan, 31, was absent the day that Dibny broke into the internet cafe that he works at and attempted to sodomise one of the monitors, but he says that the incident 'still wakes him up in the middle of the night, sweating, in case it happens again while I'm there.'

"This reporter knows what it's like to wake up in the middle of the night, wanting to make a decaf latte with heat vision and then do some light crimfighting. But this reporter never can because he has no superpowers. An experience he shares with Superman. Presumably that's a bit like waking up in the night being afraid that a naked 'detective' will burst into your place of employment and do unspeakable things to the equipment that you have to touch every day. I share his pain, and I'm sure Superman does too despite the total absense of any connection between myself (wears glasses) and Superman (contact lenses).

"What next for Ralph Dibny? Not much, if he's dead. Apart from decomposition, which awaits us all. Even me. Actually, I hadn't thought of that until now. I've got man-tits and I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die. Probably in only sixty years. I might die before Lois, I'm a lot fatter. God, I've got a lower life expectancy than Lois and she used to throw herself out of windows because she didn't have a signal watch. I'm going to be sick.

"Why aren't more of you at the Superman Statue?"

Obviously, I'll be writing a stern letter to the editor, Mr Perry White, and dropping my subscription at once, although frankly it will be a relief to dispense with the Planet after the recent downturn in its journalistic fortunes. Once, Clark Kent was known for groundbreaking stories like "Superman Saves Space Plane", "Superman Gets In A Fight, Again" and "What Superman Had For Breakfast This Morning" - that last one I believe was what won him his Pulitzer. Now, the front page groans under the weight of such Kent-written stories as "I'm Depressed", "Ouch, I Stubbed My Toe" and "Supernova Could Be As Good As Me, I Mean Superman, If He Got Rid Of That Silly Mask And Just Wore An Eyepatch Or Something In His Secret Identity, It Really Works And Nobody Ever Says Anything", which I actually fell asleep halfway through reading.

Confusingly, Mr White is praising Kent to the rooftops on the grounds that the man has conquered new and dizzying heights of writing prowess. This leads me to suspect that the Planet is, and always has been, run less as an actual newspaper and more as some sort of complex corporate insurance scam.

5 Comments:

Blogger Wonder Girl said...

Yeah, the Daily Planet has always been crap. Here it is:

Remembering the Dibnys

I am not an expert, but it looks like Ralph had been hanging out with Arsenal before that interview, if you catch my meaning. And what I mean is he injected Velocity 9 into his urethra.

2:04 PM  
Blogger Green Arrow said...

Right on, doc. Clark Kent is a hack. Perry White: hack. Lois Lane: fox, but also a hack. The whole corporate media machine: every last man jack is a hack.

And I say that as a former journalist myself. I tell you, I could write a book about it - and as a matter of fact, I did. Coming Queen: Confessions of a Columnist is now, sadly, out of print, but if you can find a copy it will tell you things that will blow your mind.

Also, keep your peepers peeled for my upcoming new book, The Audacity of Hep: Oliver Queen's Reflections on the American Dream (And Why It's a Hideous Moral Cancer That's Rotting Our Very Souls!) It's my conversation with America - beautiful, fertile, sick America. Sick, but still kind of hot.

4:33 PM  
Blogger Rick Tyler said...

Wow. CK is soooo screwed up that he doesn't even realize that it's still 2006!

9:23 PM  
Blogger Dr Robert Willis, Phd said...

Only in your drugged head, young man. Perhaps one day medical science can cure your addiction. Perhaps even one year later from now, in the far-flung world of 2008...

11:17 AM  
Blogger Jeffrey Hardy Quah said...

Will Richard Dragon be contributing anytime soon? With all this talk of World War III I'd like to know what Richard Dragon Products™ I need in order to cope. I think my Inner Potential went the way of Clark Kent's reporting skills.

3:37 AM  

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