I swear, my toilet has superpowers! Or I do. There are so many times when it has almost clogged--like, the bowl will fill up (but not overflow), and I will stand there, looking at it unhappily, thinking Goddammit. And infallibly, if I just wait, slowly, slowly, but surely, it will flush, completely and cleanly. And I'll look at it quizzically, give it another flush just to make sure it's alright, and sure enough, it's fine, what are you talking about? It's as though I'm in a Strong Bad Email, where it seems to end a certain way, but if you wait ten or fifteen seconds, the plot furthers itself to reaveal an extra twist. In my case, the twist is that the toilet flushes. My life is awesome.

-

There are certain comic book/comic strip scenarios that I'm especially fond of. Archetypal scenarios that are just the most wonderful thing to witness, and I never get tired of the myriad ways in which they are presented.

Like, in any superhero comic, there comes a point when somehow the superhero is deprived of their powers for an indefinite period of time. Like, they don't know when or if they will ever get them back. And there's this whole psychological thing that they go through.

First there's shock--they've been living with their powers for, it seems like, ever, and all of a sudden they're gone. Not malfunctioning--gone.
They are awkward in everything they do--they're not used to being normal. They have to make these small frustrating adjustments to the way they do things, and in the absence of their powers, ordinary, unexpected fears surface.
At first they treat it like they're wounded--'I'll deal with it for now, but I'll heal up soon.'
Then as time passes, they realize their powers might not ever come back. They get angry, confused, they feel impotent, and they obsess about their lost capabilities.
Then they realize that their anger is useless and life is passing them by. And then follows the most beautiful part, when, much to their surprise, they find they've grown used to their new existence, that they've come to appreciate certain things about it, and... they enjoy it. Oh my gosh! Life is okay! You see them smile.

That last part especially is so touching, such a beautiful thing to witness. The entire process, really. It's amazing to watch them become vulnerable, and learn to accept the vulnerability as part of their being. It's enough to make me stand up and applaud. It happens in every long superhero series. I was a Marvel fan when I was younger, and I went through it with Storm when she lost her powers with Forge. When she couldn't fly, she found that she... feared heights. When she couldn't control the weather, she found herself deathly afraid of the wild unpredictability and power of nature.
J was a big fan of Superman, and he went through the exact same thing. Superman lost his powers, with no knowledge of when he would ever get them back, and he turned into a klutz, he cut himself all the time, because he just wasn't used to his body working that way. He had to eat.

The other archetypal scenario that I love is when the main character has to choose between a false paradise and a burdened reality. It's all over the place; I remember seeing it in a newspaper comic strip, and it even happened on the Drew Carrey Show. Here's a really good example.

The protagonist lives his fantasy life--everything is perfect--until somehow they come across a realization that carries a choice. This isn't quite reality--usually the person is in a coma--and they can choose between living in their fantasy forever, or going back to their real life with hardships, mediocrity, and people who love them.
And they always choose, for whatever motive, to go back. That choice is poignant, and beautiful. It's part of the fabric of our existence. It shows that in our own hearts, we have to earn heaven--or else it isn't heaven, it's an illusion.

Comics brought this stuff to me, from an early age, over and over. Which is why I have such a reverence for the medium. It's modern mythology. It's art. It's craft. I sometimes dream in comics, and those are the most interesting, vivid ones. When I run across people who think comics are a lower medium, I'm just like, you don't even know.

6:01 p.m. 2003-10-09�