The boy packed his bags and left the house. It was his 13th birthday and this convinced him he was a man able to survive on his own. Five pairs of socks and two pairs of underwear was all he had rolled up in a paper bag he stole from the local grocer. This was his day and he was sure to make the most of it. Anything else he needed, he assumed he’d find in one way or another when he needed them.
I first saw him when I was six years old.
“And who are you?” Kenneth inquired of the man before him. It was a question he had asked a thousand times as an assistant to one of the most respected men in the immediate area. He had dreams to progress further in his career of course, but he felt his job a noble one or short of that, one that served to get him by month to month financially. For now, anyway.
“Who I am isn’t important.” The man responded briskly.
“Well, who should I say is here?”
“Just tell your employer his investment has arrived. He’ll know what you mean.”
My question: why do superheroes seek another identity to fight evil? Does this mean that maintaining an identity of constant prey is needed or required?
Dear Anonymous Reader,
Superheroes, huh? I have always been against that word. Why is it the one putting in the time scheming to hurt those around him always the bad guy? Don’t I deserve to be called a hero? Without me, the local fire department would be completely useless. Do I ever get a thank you? No.
dear professor glutton,
im starting a fellowship under my wife and am wondering how you would handle the situation. im more then a little nervous about there being friction.
I fear I am becoming too negative as of late. In my hometown, they have this classic car event and they all gather on the streets and ride back and forward. I work nearby and must get through to make it in time to my job. It continually makes me late and I am getting quite upset with the whole situation. How can I cope with my growing hatred of classic cars?
Dear Faithful Reader,
I have a midterm coming up and I have a slight problem…I won’t pass. The reason, I‘ve cheated on the last few exams and the person I’ve cheated off of has dropped the class. What do I do?
Dear Pup. (as in pupil but I shortened it…like you did with prof… ah forget it it… no one gets me…),
What advice do you have for an aspiring super villain?
Dear Mr. (or Mrs. or Ms. if you are one of those old unmarried women) Sycamore,
First off, calling me Dr. G makes me sound like I, too am straight outta – insert hometown here. It’s Professor Gludlum or if I know you really, really well, you may even survive calling me Beezlebub. Old college nickname. Long story. If I don’t know you very well, your odds do not look good. Go ahead. Pull the lever.
I’ve spent a lot of time recently streaming the first three seasons of The CW's "Crazy Ex Girlfriend" on Netflix. This show hit me like an emotional train during the course of its exploration of what our behavior tells us about ourselves.
It’s a hard show to explain to someone that hasn’t seen it. This should help.