"Now with more chunks of real goblin steak!"

Ah, but the question is: by goblins, or with goblins?

- Sid

(Photographed at the Wolf & Hound Pub on Broadway.)

First thoughts on Sunday morning III.

Let us take a moment to consider Superman. He is a legendary figure, both in the fictional world he inhabits and the real.  Everyone knows that the radiation from our yellow sun gives the last son of Krypton an astonishing catalogue of abilities:  the strength to lift a 747, the power of flight, heat vision, invulnerability, and so on.

But what are the physics of invulnerability?  Superman can crumble concrete between his fingers and bathe in lava if he so chooses. Bullets bounce off his skin, and he is unharmed by vacuum of space - but how does his sensory system interpret these extremes of input?  Is Doomsday's punch just an excessive amount of pressure?  The heat of the earth's core a warm caress, and the chill of the arctic a cool breeze?

We know that in extreme situations Superman can be hurt and feel pain, which suggests that as with homo sapiens*, there's a spectrum of tolerance, albeit a spectrum with a stratospheric top end - but what about the other end of the range? If Superman is indifferent to the impact of steel-jacketed slugs, what does he feel when Lois Lane kisses him?  Logic suggests that the touch of a woman's lips would be so far below the threshold of Superman's sensory apparatus as to be non-existent.  An amourous woman might just as well hit him in the mouth with a sledgehammer if she hoped to get his attention.

This might well explain why DC's 52 reboot has initiated a physical relationship between Wonder Woman and Superman.  Who else could exert sufficient strength to kindle the fires of passion in the Man of Steel - and survive the experience should Superman reciprocate?

However, the romantic in me says that logic has nothing to do with it.  Perhaps Superman only needs to feel a kiss in his heart.

- Sid

* I think it's fair to say that Superman's extraterrestrial origin qualifies him as a separate species - homo kryptonis, or perhaps homo eximius.

And a matching plushie at home.

I was surprised to notice that one of my coworkers has a teeny little Cthulhu idol on her desk at work.  Apparently followers of the dark cult of the Old Ones are everywhere.

Fhtagn!

- Sid