Superman and My Homies, by Martha Thomases
The month of July was a veritable traveling sideshow for me. Between professional obligations and family emergencies, I barely saw my husband … and my kitty even less. I’ve had to seek out new, ever more tantalizing kinds of cat food for her to tolerate my continued presence in our home.
All of this makes me think of Superman.
When John Byrne relaunched the series, there was a lot of talk about Superman being not just the Last Son of Krypton, but the last Kryptonian. That didn’t last very long, and today we have remnants of the old continuity, with Supergirl and the Phantom Zone and the Bottled City of Kandor.
I like that Superman, but he’s not the character with whom I grew up. My Superman is the pre-Crisis version, the one published from the late 1950s up to the Byrne reboot. Sent to Earth shortly after his birth, his memories of Krypton are vivid but brief. He was already a toddler when the Kents found him in that field in Kansas.
Maybe it was because the character had been around for such a long time, and the creative teams were having trouble coming up with new ideas for stories, but there is a certain melancholy about the Man of Steel in that era. Kal-El had huge responsibilities, and no one close to him. His parents died with his planet; his foster-parents died before he left for Metropolis. He was afraid to commit to the women he loved, not because of anything as terrestrial as a fear of close relationships, but because he was afraid he’d put them in danger. Even his own cousin, who could have been a close confidante, was kept at arm’s length so he could train her to protect their adopted home.
This is the Superman who needed a Fortress of Solitude, where he could escape, at least for a while, the cries for help that flooded his every waking moment. Amid the cold from the top of world, he could conduct experiments, write to his intergalactic pen-pals, and build enormous monuments to his dead parents.
This time around I have a volume two, a volume three, and a volume four – all in series that I’ve read at least some of the earlier books. Let’s see if I can still remember what went before – since manga often don’t have “who the heck are these people and what are they doing” pages – and whether they’re getting more or less interesting.
The hit BBC series 
is now in its fourth season on the Sci-Fi Channel, and since we’re all big fans here at ComicMix, we’ve decided to kick off an episode-by-episode analysis of the reinvigorated science-fiction classic.
There are a lot of features coming at ComicMix readers these days, so in the interest of making sure you don’t miss the articles everyone’s talking about, here’s a quick rundown of some of last week’s most popular articles posted on the site:
I was talking to cartoonist Jim Rugg recently about comics anthologies, and he said his thought as a reader is that each collection should have one great story, and then anything else good is just gravy.
(Nerdcore, $30), Rugg’s Afrodisiac story is the gravy. His old-school, dot-matrix-styled, blaxploitation character has a predictably badass encounter with vampires.
Typically, birthdays are a time for self-reflection and so, in this spirit, I am today changing the name of my column to “Brainiac On Banjo.” I have come to accept the likelihood that few, if any other than Mark Waid, got the “Whizzy’s Wazoo” reference. “Brainiac On Banjo” is a bit easier.
Even for an established and award winning television writer like Steven Moffat, taking command of a 45 year old universe is a little daunting. In the first part of our exclusive ComicMix interviews with the top BBC talents, he tells us his outlook for the future, plus:
or 
It’s nearly a week since Comic-Con ended, but still it haunts my dreams. I grew up in Youngstown, Ohio, then the fifth largest city in Ohio (behind Cleveland, Cincinnati, Columbus and Akron), yet there were more people in the San Diego convention center. 
This ridiculous villain thing has officially gone too far.
