Saturday! Sparky let me sleep late again, bless his little heart, and so I feel rested and good this morning. I have to run the errands I didn’t run yesterday (when I finished working I wasn’t in the mood to leave the house, other than a walk to Walgreens) and other than that, I am staying inside and working today on my own stuff. There are some games today I might watch (or have on in the background while I clean or write or read) besides LSU’s game tonight against SLU; Auburn-Oklahoma comes to mind for this afternoon, and Tulane plays Mississippi at the same time (GO WAVE!). Miami also plays Florida tonight, and I also haven’t looked to see what non-SEC games might be interesting to have on at some point.
I did get some things done yesterday around the house which pleased me enormously; I have some final touches to be done today around writing and reading. I need to redo my workspace because the last reorganization seemed like a good idea but…it’s not, and the workspace feels more cramped than it ever has, and I just can’t with that, you know? The apartment always feels cramped when it’s not in order, which I dislike intensely, and it feels pretty wide open this morning. I still need to vacuum the rugs and put dishes away, but other than that the house is pretty in order. Huzzah!
The Trey Reed story continues, and the official autopsy ruled it a “suicide,” although I’m not precisely sure how you can make that distinction between murder and suicide when the death is by hanging. From a tree. In Mississippi. Pardon me for not trusting anything official coming out of Mississippi regarding the strange death by hanging of a young Black man. I was also glad to see Colin Kaepernick’s foundation is paying for an independent autopsy on behalf of the family. (Speaking of Kaepernick, does anyone else see the NFL’s hypocrisy on drumming him out of the League for taking a knee when so many of them had a memorial moment pre-game for Charlie Kirk? Side-eye at you, Gail Benson–and I’ve not forgotten you and the Saints’ role in the New Orleans priest/pedophile cover-up, either….making it really hard for me to root for the Saints, you know? Also remember, she got all of Tom Benson’s money by cutting off his blood relatives…)
While I was doing my quality assurance work yesterday, I sat in my chair with Sparky sleeping around my feet and put Superman on to rewatch while I was working, and I have to say, it’s just as excellent the second viewing as it was the first…and I generally tend to not rewatch a film I’ve seen recently, so rewatching was saying something to begin with. Honestly, I’ve really not stopped thinking about this film since we saw it, and have watched numerous reviews and critiques (almost all positive) on Youtube ever since. I also had a lot more thoughts while watching the second time. The first time I watched it was as a viewer; and I am very glad we saw it on the wide screen, and I just wanted the experience. This time, I was able to pay closer attention to details and the plot, and so forth. The magic holds up on a second watch, and it also reminded me of why Superman is so wildly beloved. I also was able to pick out “the hero’s journey” out of the story this time, and I also realized that the Kents work because they were always supposed to be old for parents; they were already past any hope of having a child of their own when they found the baby and the rocket in their corn field, so almost every iteration of the Kents has been canonically wrong every time–the former Bo Duke and Lana Lang casting of the Kents in Smallville was particularly wrong, too. (He’s also a “found orphaned boy,” too.) Wendell Pierce was perfect casting as Perry White (and really, can’t we have Pierce in almost everything? He elevates everything he’s in, seriously.)–the entire film was expertly cast.
And I also realized I want to write more about Superman and revisit my love of the character from childhood, as well as writing about both Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, because I finally remembered that the reason I wanted to be a journalist when I went to college was primarily because the idea took root from the Superman comics, and my affinity for Clark, Lois and Jimmy.
I also realized yesterday why I was having so much trouble with this book before I got sick; I am covering some unfortunate events in this story for Scotty and the boys and while the final third of the book is absolutely necessary, it’s not going to be easy to get done because it’s troubling. There’s a lot of work to do on this manuscript, but I feel like I can do it now.
And on that note, it isn’t getting done with me sitting here writing this, so I am going to bring this to a close and head into the spice mines. Have a great Saturday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow.
A cold Saturday morning in the Lost Apartment. My doctor’s appointment went well–all my vitals were at appropriate levels, my lungs are clear, and all medications appear to be working properly, which is lovely. I came home from that appointment to do chores and make the house orderly before we headed out to Metairie for Paul’s appointment, after which we went to Costco. You know, for the first Friday of parade season, it wasn’t that terrible. It was crowded, yes, and there were times I had to wait for inconsiderate assholes who were blocking aisles thoughtlessly (a regular occurrence at the grocery store, a rarity for Costco) and the check out lines ferociously long, but it didn’t take us long to spend a shit load of money (Paul also ordered a new pair of glasses and our membership was also due for renewal). I was a bit concerned about parking when we got back, as it was closer to parade rolling time that I was comfortable with. I had noticed there were a lot of cars parking in the neighborhood–unusual–when I left for my appointment, and there was also a lot more traffic on the roads I usually traverse. Understandably, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to park within a mile of the house, but once we departed for Metairie/Costco I realized why everything was the way it was–they’ve turned the side of St. Charles people can drive down1 while parades are rolling into an obstacle course2. This is, I imagine, for crowd safety precautions after New Year’s, but damn…it’s going to make negotiating St. Charles and the neighborhood about ten times harder than it is usually is.
Thanks, asshole terrorist. I hope you’re roasting in hell like you deserve.
I also spent some time with Lev AC Rosen’s marvelous The Bell in the Fog, the second book in his Andy Mills detective series set in early 1950’s San Francisco. It’s an interesting period to read about: after the war but before Stonewall, when sodomy was still an enforceable crime and the hatred of queer people was so intense they were targeted mercilessly and no one fucking cared.3 Lev is a terrific writer–I loved Lavender House–and this one starts out really well. It’s very reminiscent of the old masters of crime/noir/hardboiled–Hammett, Chandler, Cain–which is why he gets nominated for awards so regularly.
I also have apparently sold another short story. I had sent something to an anthology at some point last year and completely forgot about it, to be honest; yesterday I got an apologetic email from (I guess? It has been a while) the editor saying they want it if it’s still available. That was a lovely bit of news, to go along with the terrific feedback from the other anthology that asked me for one. I am going to finish writing another one this weekend (if it kills me) so I can focus on finishing my book. I’d forgotten–as it has been a hot minute–how nice it is to get positive feedback from peers. And rather than questioning or explaining it away in my head (just being nice, etc etc), I decided to accept it and feel good about it, which is a lovely new approach to my career. In the moments when I allow myself to go down the natural path of current events (my publisher will get shut down, my books removed from the bookseller websites–it galls me that they’re on Target’s website, although they probably make very little me off me–and my career shut down completely in the de-queering of the country), I find it ironic that my stress, anxiety and depression didn’t allow me to ever enjoy my career very often, and that now I am finally beginning to enjoy myself and the nicer side of publishing/writing, it could all be stripped away from me. (For the record, straight people, losing our writing careers because of our sexual identity is something we have to think about all the time. Do you? So, fuck off with your I’m-an-ally-as-long-as-it’s-just-words-online bullshit. DO SOMETHING.)
But yes, I am feeling like I definitely need to get back to producing work, and that feels good for a change, you know?
Sparky also let me sleep late this morning, the little darling, and even curled up in the bed with me rather than trying to get me up. I think he waits for my alarm like Pavlov’s dog; I’ve trained him to react to the sound as well as his stomach. We watched LSU Gymnastics win at Kentucky last night, but they didn’t have a great meet–a bit of a letdown after defeating Oklahoma last week in Baton Rouge and a packed house–but it was fine; they hadn’t won in Lexington since 2016, and this year they did despite a bad meet. We then watched the premiere episode of Season Three of Reacher, which is based on one of my favorite Reacher novels, and am loving it. (I also like that his portrayer, Alan Ritchson–whom I’ve liked since I first noticed him on Smallville–is a devout Christian and not a cosplay one; he calls out the evangelicals and their false prophet regularly. He recently gave an interview to GQ in which he talked about Matt Gaetz, whom he went to high school with, and just ripped him to fucking shreds. You see? I don’t object to Christianity when people actually are real Christians.) We also watched some Arrested Development, too, before going to bed much later than we should have.
Overall, Friday was a pretty good day. I am going to get some reading and writing and cleaning done today–I need to unload the dishwasher and refill it at some point; and there’s always organizing and cleaning to get done. I also need to answer emails–I no longer have to stick to my old rule of “no emails on the weekend”–and I need to get some more newsletters written and finished to send. I’m trying hard to not deluge people with my newsletter; I am very prolific, as has been pointed out in the past repeatedly, and who wants to read my thoughts, views, and opinions on a daily basis? Even though I didn’t publish anything–not even a short story last year–I still produce a prodigious amount of writing all the time.
And on that note, I think I am going to head into the spice mines–more accurately, I am going to repair to my easy chair with my book for a while before I actually start getting things done around here–and I may be back later. I am trying not to do more than one post here per day…but anyway, have a lovely Saturday, and I’ll be right back here tomorrow.
Screenshot
I’ve always marveled that one side of the neutral ground is for the parades and the other side is open to traffic heading uptown. St. Charles is a major artery of the city, and they usually have to keep that side open because everything inside the parade is blocked off–and people do need to get uptown. Not really sure how this obstacle course drivers need to negotiate will work, or if they are going to take them down every night and put them back up again before the parades start–which means shutting St. Charles down for however long it takes to set up. Sigh. ↩︎
I finally slept last night, and it felt amazing. I could have easily stayed in bed for another two or three hours, but that 9-to-5 is calling to me (well, 7:30-4:30, but you know what I mean). I was worried that I was getting sick–surgery recovery, medication changes, not being able to sleep, dehydration, occasionally feeling slightly feverish, and some occasional nausea (while eating, so I wasn’t eating as much, either. My COVID tests were always negative (still are, this morning), so I have to put it down to simply being exhausted from not being able to sleep, because this morning I feel good, if a bit sleepy. Everything was dragging ass last night when I got off work; but I made myself run the needed errands on the way home, and thus today I am really delighted to know that I can come straight home from the office and get caught up on some other things. I also did some chores, despite feeling like I was at death’s door by the time I got home. (And I am so glad I bought that wagon; it makes life so much easier and I will continue to use it even after the brace is gone and my arm is healed.)
Insomnia is the worst. I don’t know how people who have it chronically manage, seriously. One night is bad enough, but a couple of nights in a row is enough to completely derail me, so I cannot imagine having it every fucking night. I mean, it wouldn’t really take much to drive me over the edge anyway–I always have such a delicate grip on my sanity as it is, without having further contributing factors. I was too tired to read last night, so I figured doing chores was the right way to go with everything last night. I did think about the new book I am writing, so even though I didn’t add to my word counts yesterday, I did think about where the book needs to go, and thinking about what I am writing and puzzling out the plot and where the book needs to go next counts. We also finished Big Vape last night, which was really interesting and made me think about a lot of things, and started A Murder at the End of the World while we wait for Prime to drop season two of Reacher, which is finally launching this Friday (huzzah! I love Alan Ritchson, and have since he first appeared as Aquaman on Smallville), and of course the bowl games are also starting this weekend–but there really aren’t many this early that I care about watching; most of the bowls end up serving as background noise while I do other things–clean, prune the books, write in my journal, read, edit pages–but seriously, now that I’ve slept well for one night, I feel like I can conquer the world again, and I’ve not felt that way in a very long time. It’s a nice feeling, really.
This year has been, as I said, a rollercoaster that doesn’t seem to be coming back to the station any time soon, and this wild up-and-down ride this year has made me reflect on who I am, why I am who I am, and reset my brain and attitudes about a lot of things because once I realized oh this is why you’re like this and that and so forth I could dissect, and rethink those attitudes–a lot of which was childhood training about how to approach life, which I inevitably took to extremes. Be humble and don’t brag became self-deprecating to the point that I would think or say things about myself or my career that would be horribly offensive if said by someone else…because in my chemically-unbalanced brain, criticism won’t bother you as much if you preempt it, which is the same weirdly off mentality that led to the complete lack of self-esteem about my body and my looks and my intelligence and well, pretty much everything….which means that I was always looking for affirmation from others, and when it didn’t come, it simply confirmed the negative things I was thinking and/or saying about myself.
There’s nothing wrong in being proud of yourself; as my friend Laura says, “Sing out, Louise!” because the obverse of the way I think about negative commentary (“need to fend this off by beating them to the punch”) also works the other way–“If I don’t believe in myself, why would anyone else?”
And I am proud of myself, and the writing career I’ve somehow managed to blunder and stumble my way into. As the tarot card reader told me when we first moved to New Orleans twenty-seven years ago, I did become an author but it’s nothing like I ever dreamed of, imagined, or considered possible. I’ve written so many books, short stories, essays, book reviews, blog posts, and edited so many anthologies that I am not even sure how many there are now–and it’s even more than most people know, because there are pseudonyms I’ve never publicly claimed and books that were ghostwritten or work for hire under a veritable plethora of other names. I think my last six (!) books (Royal Street Reveillon, Bury Me in Shadows, #shedeservedit, A Streetcar Named Murder, Death Drop, and Mississippi River Mischief) are some of my best work, and the last few short stories to come out (“The Rosary of Broken Promises”, “This Thing of Darkness”, “The Affair of the Purloined Rentboy”, “Solace in a Dying Hour”, and “The Ditch”) are also some of my best stories. I am very pleased with how I’ve grown and developed in my writing, and I want to continue to grow and develop and keep getting better. My biggest fear is that my best work is behind me and I’ll keep going, getting worse with every new project until finally no one is buying anything I write anymore. I’d still write, anyway–I’ll be writing on my laptop on my death bed, and they will have to pry it from my cold dead fingers–and probably self-publish or something.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines on this cold morning in New Orleans. Have a marvelous Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in later.
Friday and Saints and Sinners starts today! In fact, the box office is probably already open and people are picking up their badges and bags and programs as I type this. I’ll be heading down there later this afternoon–taking a Lyft to the Monteleone–because I do have some things to get done this morning and early afternoon. I’ve taken today off from work because I’ll be losing the weekend to Saints and Sinners, so all the things I usually do on the weekends, I have to do before I head down there today. I’ll be coming back tomorrow night to spend the night with Scooter and make sure he’s okay, and then of course after the closing on Sunday I have to get back home because I have to get up early for work on Monday morning. I will undoubtedly be drained and tired from all the talking and walking and socializing–things I’m generally not used to anymore–so I am glad that I took the time to get ahead of day job work this week so there won’t be a lot of pressure for me to get things done Monday; it’s nice to ease your way back into your reality after a weekend of talking about books and writing.
I didn’t get as much done as I might have hoped for last night, alas. I did get some good work on the book done, which is great, and I did do some things around here. I also spent some time watching this week’s Superman and Lois, which I am still enjoying but the recasting of Jonathan hasn’t really stuck with yet–which makes me feel bad for the replacement actor (I always thought of Al Corley as Stephen on Dynasty, even though his replacement Jack Coleman played the part far longer)–but I like the way the show portrays Superman and I also like the “cozy” aspects of the setting being Smallville. I meant to pick out a book to start reading last night but couldn’t decide which one; I’m thinking The Lost Americans by Christopher Bollen (his A Beautiful Crime is perhaps one of my favorite queer crime novels, for any number of reasons) or Margot Douaihy’s Scorched Grace, which sounds really fantastic. I also have any number of other crime novels on hand, and I’ve also been thinking that I should probably read in another genre for a while to cleanse the palate in a way; that’s kind of why Scorched Grace is appealing; it looks and sounds highly original and deeply clever. I won’t have time to read anything this weekend anyway, if I don’t have time to get started today on my reading. I am almost finished with The Power Broker, too; and I have a lot of thoughts about the book that coincide with other massive books I’ve read about political power and those who have and wield it which I will undoubtedly share with you, Constant Reader, once I’ve finally finished the book.
It’s a bit overcast outside this morning, and I also feel very well rested. I slept very well last night and I allowed myself to sleep later than usual. I woke up at three, five, and again at six, and decided that it was better to sleep in–although I probably should have gotten up early so I can sleep tonight at the hotel. Paul got the same massive suite he had last year, so it’s kind of fun to have that place as an escape from everything. I’ll take pictures and post them once I get down there. I do have to run get the mail, do some laundry and more cleaning as well as writing and editing this morning. I am also resisting the urge to take the manuscript with me down there this weekend; I doubt very seriously that I would ever have the time to actually sit down and work on it. I think I’ll just take the laptop and see if I can keep revising rather than copy-editing the first half just yet.
I stepped away from this for awhile and came back to it, after getting to work on the laundry and the dishes issues (unloading and putting away; washing and starting another load in the dishwasher). I am going to be able to run the errands in a little bit, and then I’m going to straighten up around here and try to get heading down to the Quarter a little earlier than I’d planned. I probably should pick up some things for the room–sodas and so forth–but maybe not. I don’t know. I always end up taking more stuff with me than I need, which I just then have to lug back home with me.
And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close and do more work around the house so I can run the errands and get down to Saints and Sinners. Have a lovely Friday morning, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later.
While I am a Reacher fan, I would not go so far as to claim “Reacher Creature” status.
I stopped reading the series after it got into the late teens; I don’t remember why I stopped, but I did and then I got so far behind I couldn’t remember where I left off in the series (even now, looking through a list with synopses I don’t remember where I stopped reading), and while I know I enjoyed each Reacher story I read, I don’t have the time to go back and try to figure out where I stopped. I clearly remember Gone Tomorrow–I remember the set-up with the woman he thinks is a suicide bomber on the subway at the beginning, which is almost the entire synopsis–but the last one I think I read ended up with him in a mansion on an island with a causeway leading out to it; with no other way off the island and it’s basically an armed stronghold (reminded me of Tintagel from Arthurian legends); the synopses of the next two books don’t ring any bells.
Maybe when I retire I’ll have time to revisit the series and get caught up. Lee Child is one of the loveliest men in the crime genre–he was in New Orleans years ago for a romance convention–and Alafair Burke (God, I am namedropping!) had invited me to join her for lunch, as she was also in town for the romance event (I think it was Romantic Times’ conference?), and so I met her at the Marriott on Canal (which was hosting) and as we walked to Green Goddess for lunch, we ran into Lee on the street and Alafair invited him to join us.
I don’t think I spoke much as I sat there at lunch with LEE CHILD and ALAFAIR BURKE, completely starstruck and not believing the incredible luck of my life. (Seriously, am I the luckiest homo on the planet or what?)
But I always remember fondly the first book in the series, The Killing Floor, which set the tone for the entire series, and I fell in love with the character–which was unusual for me. As a gay man, I tend to avoid books with these alpha male types; toxic masculinity and misogyny (as well as homophobia) tends to run in these kinds of books and I ain’t got time for reading that shit. But Reacher wasn’t like that–yes, he was an enormous man (250 pounds of solid muscle, 6′ 5) and he could kill you with his bare hands in less than three seconds, but he was more of a knight-errant; traveling around the country with just the clothes on his back, some money, an old war medal of his father’s, and coming to the rescue of countless people who need help. He had a code of honor that he lived by, and I respected that…not to mention the imagery of what he looked like as I dreamed him up in my head as I read (I’ve always, always, had a thing for big men–but that’s a subject for another time) and yes, he became a bit of a fantasy type for me. (I will not discuss the films based on the novels or the casting of those films, as so many others have inevitably done in the wake of the Amazon Prime series arriving; it’s really not necessary and the show should be judged on its own merits, not how it stacks up against the films–good or bad.)
But when I heard they had cast Alan Ritchson as Reacher, I may have done a fist pump.
I mean….
I first became aware of him when we were binge-watching Smallville. He had a small role as Aquaman in one season (just as the equally gorgeous Justin Hartley was cast in a recurring role as Green Arrow for several seasons–was delighted to see Hartley’s career take off with This Is Us), and I remembered thinking, he should be spun off into his own series (just as I thought about Hartley’s Green Arrow; I was bummed when Arrow was announced with Stephen Amell as Oliver Queen–but was also incredibly wrong about being bummed about that casting), but Aquaman would be a hard television series to produce, particularly budget-wise, since there would inevitably have to be a lot of underwater scenes shot, which also makes dialogue difficult to pull off. I would have watched Titans anyway–Teen Titans was always one of my favorite teams–but was delighted to see Ritchson playing Hawk, and was horribly disappointed when (SPOILER) they killed him off.
But had they not killed him off, he couldn’t have gotten the lead in Reacher, and it’s a star-making turn…so hopefully this will mean more Reacher, and more Alan Ritchson projects.
We’ve only watched the first episode, but we are hooked. Ritchson is perfect at the role, and even if he is a few inches shorter than the character in the novels, the way they shoot the show makes him seem much bigger than he actually is (I also wonder if they deliberately cast shorter actors to make him seem bigger, but it’s an effective optical illusion). The big takeaway for me always about Reacher was his size; he was a physical giant that you couldn’t NOT notice. The script is good, the direction and cinematography great, and the rest of the cast is also good (it includes Willa Fitzgerald, a favorite of mine after her turns on Scream the television show and Dare Me), and it has everything it could possibly need to be a hit.
And now I kind of want to read The Killing Floor again.
Also: while watching, it occurred to me that Ritchson would make a terrific Travis McGee.
It feels like it’s been forever since I went into the office.
To be fair, I was off all last week, and since I work at home on Thursdays and Fridays, it has been almost two full weeks (ten days) since the last time I went in. My insomnia kicked in again last night–can’t help but wonder if that was triggered by the going-back-to-the-office thing, but at least the half-sleep or whatever that was I had last night was relaxing? I don’t feel tired or sleepy this morning (a good thing), but we’ll see if I do indeed hit the wall this afternoon. I hope not because I have to work on the book tonight, and pretty much every night, this month. Football season being practically over is a huge help, and I am not traveling again anywhere until mid-January, so that’s a plus; it’s really a matter now of being organized and staying focused.
And not getting stressed or over-tired, you hear that, Insomnia? Get thee behind me, Satan.
Paul and I went back to the Gossip Girl well again this weekend, getting caught up on the reboot (fun) on Saturday evening and then went back to the original last night. I think we both agree that while the new one is fun, the original is actually better still than the reboot–with no disrespect whatsoever to the reboot. It’s an interesting show–I’d forgotten it, like Pretty Little Liars, was based on a very popular series of books (not sure if the show followed the books or not, but I’m not going to go back and read 13 books just to find out; I never read the Pretty Little Liars series of books either). Paul was wondering why we never watched it the first time around and I replied, “I think we thought we were too old for it? It was a CW show, which we always thought meant shows for teenagers–but we’ve always enjoyed any CW show from that era we went back to and watched, like Supernatural or Smallville.”
It’s weird to also reflect that this was a time before streaming, and Netflix delivered DVD’s to your mailbox and worked as a sort of replacement to the video store, eventually pushing Blockbuster and Hollywood Videos and all the others into bankruptcy and out of business. We’re so used to the streaming services now–and binge-watching, which really started with the DVD’s being delivered back in the day–that it’s weird to remember having cable; as it is, I hate it when we are watching a show as it airs and have to wait per week for the next episode, and having to remember when it aired so as not to miss an episode…I don’t think I ever knew how to work the DVR function on the cable box, even though we had it, and whenever I think about what a pain in the ass it was to record on a VCR–and having all of those videotapes–it kind of feels like it was the Dark Ages or something back then, doesn’t it?
I also need to start heading back to the gym; maybe tonight, depending on how tired I am when I get home, I may try to head over there. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been; almost a month, between the colonoscopy and the booster shot reaction and the trips, and of course, any excuse to not go to the gym even though I really enjoy it when I do go. My body is also not really happy about this lack of exercise, frankly; I need to stretch it again and push it with the weights. I also have to start over again, with the one set week followed by the two set week and so on until I am back into the groover again.
It’s also technically Christmas season, now that Thanksgiving is over, and I am going to attempt to do the Christmas card thing. I am also trying not to be a curmudgeon about the holiday season this year–not an easy task, frankly–but since I am so rarely in stores and I listen to Spotify in the car, I don’t have to worry about getting sick of Christmas music nor do I have to worry about being inundated with Christmas commercials and so forth since we primarily stream things…and there’s a lot of Gossip Girl to get caught up on–plus it’s from the time period where seasons rans to eighteen or more episodes, as opposed to the shortened streaming service eight-to-ten episode seasons. So I figure there are probably about ninety episodes of the original in total, and we’re only about half-way through the first season….so we’ll be watching it for quite some time.
But I have made a to-do list for the week, and I intend to plough my way through it, and try to better about keeping track of the dozens of spinning plates I have to keep spinning, let alone keep juggling. Despite feeling scattered all year (the last two years, really) I have managed somehow to keep on top of most everything I need to–few things have fallen through the cracks, and if there submission calls I missed, well, I needed some down time to rest and relax rather than keep pushing myself to such extremes. I only have so much energy anymore, and yes, I used to have a lot more, but I also can’t hold myself to the old productivity standards that used to be normal. I’m older, there’s been an ongoing pandemic for nearly two years, and lots has changed since the days when I could write four or five books in a single year and produce a ton of short stories. As it is, I still am wildly productive–and I need to stop beating myself up over not being as productive as I used to be.
After all, a lot of things aren’t like they used to be in my life.
And on THAT cheery note, tis off to the spice mines with me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning, and hopefully the lack of sleep from last night isn’t going to be a big issue for me today.
So, on National Coming Out Day this past week, October 11th, the current Superman—Jonathon Kent, son of Lois and Clark—came out as bisexual. When I saw the New York Times piece I literally gasped out loud. This wasn’t some minor character in a team comic; this wasn’t even a second-tier lead of a less-popular title. This was fucking SUPERMAN, the Big Blue Boy Scout, the tentpole character on whom all of DC Comics, and the DC television and film franchises, are built around.
I literally had tears come up in my eyes. This was So. Fucking. HUGE.
I cannot even begin to tell you how much that would have meant to me as a deeply closeted and terrified gay teenager in the Chicago suburbs and later, small town rural Kansas. I really don’t know how best to explain what this meant to me as a sixty-year-old gay man, but here goes.
Oh, Superman. You are the ubiquitous comic book character; since your debut back before the second world war you have become the default; the super-hero every other super-hero is judged against. It’s even right there in your generic name: you are the super man, hence you are Superman.
Superman is kind of the Bill Jones or Joe Smith of comic book heroes: basic, simply named, and the best of them all.
I was a kid when I first started reading comic books about super-heroes. Before I bought my first Action Comics (all I remember is that Lex Luthor was the issue’s villain), I read Archie in all of its iterations; I also read Millie the Model, Dot, Little Lotta, and some others that have faded from memory. The Jewel Osco where my mom used to buy groceries when we lived in Chicago had a comic book vending machine near the entrance, right next to a soda machine dispensing cans of Pepsi and its variants. You put in a dime and two pennies into the appropriate slots, and pushed the appropriate buttons for the comic you wanted; the metal spiral thing holding the comics would spin and drop your comic down, so you could reach in through the door and pick it up. That particular day I wanted a Betty and Veronica, which was A5 but I was in a hurry and accidentally pressed B5 instead; voila, I got an Action Comics instead, much to my bitter disappointment. One of the local independent stations, Channel 32 (which also showed repeats of The Munsters, among other black-and-white classics) aired reruns of the old Superman television show; which I thought, even for my unsophisticated childish palate, was cheesy and silly. I remember grousing about it to my mother—whose response, “Boys read super hero comics anyway” was the kind of thing that usually would guarantee that I would never read a super hero comic book, but I picked it up after we got home and I started reading, certain that I would hate it.
It probably should go without saying that I didn’t hate it.
And it opened an entirely new world for me. Sure, it got a little frustrating from time to time for me (Superman was such a goody two-shoes, but that was kind of his job) and Lois being so desperate (and jealous) to either marry and/or expose his secret identity was annoying; especially because Lois otherwise was such a kick ass woman. There were any number of Superman or Superman-adjacent titles, Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen had their own titles; Superman often appeared in (and was definitely a charter member of) Justice League of America; there was also Superboy (“Superman as a teenager!”) and Supergirl…it was like the comics readers couldn’t get enough of Superman and his world. I eventually moved on to other DC Comics titles, too—everything Batman (Detective Comics was always my favorite, because there was a mystery to solve) and Flash and Green Arrow and Green Lantern and…yes, my dollar allowance every week for a long time went to comic books (Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys were $1.50 and my allowance was $1 per week; and no, I couldn’t wait until I had two dollars to get one; I always needed to spend my money as soon I got it on Thursday—Mom’s payday—at either Jewel Osco or at Woolworth’s…because I could always talk Mom into buying me a book if there were Hardy Boys or Three Investigators to be had). When we moved to the suburbs the Zayre’s didn’t carry comics, nor did the grocery store in town; the 7/11 only carried Marvel (I tried with The Mighty Thor, but the continuing story aspect Marvel used irritated me because I would inevitably miss an issue), and when Zayre’s finally started carrying comics, things had… changed. Wonder Woman was no longer an Amazon, and was just an every day modern woman running a boutique (somehow she’d given up her powers). Supergirl had been poisoned, which meant her powers came and went without warning; one moment she’d be super, the next she wouldn’t. It was an attempt to modernize the books, of course, make them appeal to the newer, more sophisticated modern audience of the 1970’s; some of them started addressing social issues and became a lot more adult in theme. (Green Arrow actually became my favorite book during this time; he was drawn naturally—had curly chest hair AND nipples—and he had no powers other than being an expert archer and skill at hand-to-hand fighting). I eventually moved away from comics because I started spending my money on novels—Agatha Christie, Ellery Queen, etc.—and comics were, I thought, really for kids.
Later on, when we moved to Kansas, I got back into comics again, and things had changed yet again. Some of the Legion of Super-Heroes’ costumes made them look like strippers (male and female); the drawing of the characters had become more natural and realistic (Superman, for example, went from being barrel-shaped to having a narrow little waist and abs showing through his skintight costume), and Wonder Woman was an Amazon again. This was my Howard the Duck period, when I also started delving into Marvel a bit more. Comics always remained of interest to me throughout my life, with me going through periods of collecting and reading in large volumes at different times…before moving on from them again. I am not an expert on comics by any means; I know the names of some artists and some writers, but for the most part, I always paid more attention to story and character (go figure). But I’ve always maintained a love for the characters; and yes, the original Christopher Reeve Superman movie (which I rewatched recently for the Cynical 70’s Film Festival) indeed made me believe a man could fly.
I’ve always had, and always will have, a soft spot for Superman.
To me, Christopher Reeve was Superman–the prior versions of the character, including the popular television show (which I watched religiously) always seemed, to me, to be an actor playing the part; Reeve somehow just was the character. He was so insanely and ridiculously handsome; the body was just right, and he had the right mix of charm and charisma the part demanded. Reeve’s Superman could never be seen as a threat–and he also made it completely believable that no one could tell Clark was him, with different hair, glasses, and street clothes; he physically changed how he stood, his posture, everything about him that was Superman, when he was playing Clark.
Reeve never got enough credit as an actor, frankly.
And while my memories of Margot Kidder as Lois Lane aren’t fond ones–I thought she was a fine actress, but miscast–overall, the first two Reeve films were good ones. They could have stopped there, but didn’t–and the last two weren’t good. I enjoyed Lois and Clark (despite what Dean Cain turned into) and Paul and I eventually succumbed to the simple pleasure that was Smallville…but I wanted to see Superman back up on the big screen, where he belonged. I was very excited when they cast Henry Cavill in the part (I’ve been crushing hard on Cavill since first noticing him on The Tudors)….and then came the movies. I enjoyed them for what they were, and I did think some of the changes made to update and modernize the story (how would Americans today react to the discovery of a super being from another planet?)–and you can never go wrong with Amy Adams, either.
But…they forgot the most important thing about Superman: his kindness and genuine concern for people. In the quest to make the DC Film Universe of all that is dark and angsty like the Batman movies–the direction Batman has gone in since the comic mini-series The Dark Knight Returns–was a bad one. Patty Jenkins got Wonder Woman so fucking right–and it was the same basic formula as Superman. Superman used to be derisively called “the world’s oldest Boy Scout”, but that can work with the character, and with the right actor. I think Cavill has the charisma and the charm–and the extraordinarily gorgeous smile–to pull that off; I just wish they would have let him have the chance.
The new show on CW, Superman and Lois, is also excellent; I absolutely love it, and I do think that Tyler Hoechlin is one of the best Supermans of all time, frankly. (The entire cast is stellar, frankly.)
So, as I said earlier, I was pretty fucking jazzed the other day to see the piece in the New York Timesearlier this week about Superman “coming out”–on National Coming Out Day, no less–and even if it turned out to not be Clark Kent, but Lois and Clark’s son Jonathan (in the comics they have the one son; on Superman and Lois they have twin sons, one of whom is named Jonathan), and while I, in my white gay male privilege assumed this meant that he was gay–he’s actually bisexual. But he is attracted to other men, and even has a boyfriend.
There was one particularly noxious piece posted on Medium, which the homophobic piece of trash who wrote it proudly posted on Facebook (I reported his post on Facebook as well as the piece on Medium as hate speech; the Medium piece came down, but the last time I looked, of course Facebook had done nothing about it). I read the whole thing–poorly worded, not grammatical, would have given a C- grade on the construction basics level alone–but the part that I couldn’t get past, the part I can’t forget, was him saying this: But why take one of the few heroes left for the “Straight World” and make him abnormally offensive to us?
Abnormally. Offensive.
I guess I missed the massive closet exodus for the DC and Marvel Universes? Let me see–right off the top of my head, at DC aren’t Batman, Green Lantern, Green Arrow, Nightwing, Cyborg, Aquaman, the Flash, the Martian Manhunter, the Question, Beast Boy, the Elongated Man, and Shazam, all straight? (And that is just off the top of my head., and only DC.) But you know those people who are so afraid of the queers–you know, like the piece of shit who wrote the Medium piece–they just can’t help themselves or keep their fucking mouths shut. Oh, no, Mr. I’ve Never Brought a Woman to Orgasm just can’t let us have anything without letting us know how much it offends their delicate, needle-dicked sensibilities. You know, the same kind of guy who undoubtedly always complains about “cancel culture” and “social justice warriors” and “wokeness” and I don’t have a problem with gay people but why do you have to exist? Those kinds–sad, bitter little men with so little joy in their lives they have to spend their precious time on this planet letting everyone else in the world know how much they object to our existence.
But he has a right to his opinion and we are oppressing him if we call it out for the hateful trash it is…and him for the piece of shit he is.
As my editor at Kensington wrote on a note he included with a copy of a bad review of one of my books, this just reeks with the stench of failed author.
This guy claims to be a crime writer, and claims to work for a publisher (I’ve never heard of it or him before this moment)…but after reading this piece and another one he published on Medium, the real crime is his actual writing.
Fuck off, dude. And know that bisexual Superman is going to have way better sex than you could ever pay for, no matter how long you live.
I spent my condom packing time the last two days catching up on this week’s Real Housewives of Beverly Hill (#lockherup, seriously,) and then Superman and Lois. I had missed an episode–I hadn’t been aware it had come back, and it expired on Hulu*–but I was able to catch up with the action pretty quickly, and before I knew it, hours had passed and I had finished watching everything available. I have to say–and I mean this with all my heart–the Arrowverse gets Superman in a way the movies don’t–and I don’t think ever will. Don’t get me wrong, I will go to my grave loving Henry Cavill (and thinking he is the perfect casting for Colin should the Scotty books ever be filmed or made into a television series–hello Netflix), and thinking he’s a great Superman, but the scripts and directors utterly fail him completely every single time. I mean, I got Man of Steel in a way most people didn’t, and I also appreciate the films for great casting; and the Snyder cut of Justice League did, in some ways, seem to get the character the other films chose not to; but this iteration of Superman is the character I grew up loving, and that Christopher Reeve embodied so perfectly (until that franchise went off the rails completely). It really isn’t that hard: Superman is a nice guy who cares about people and will always, always, do the right thing, even at great personal cost to himself. DAMN IT SUPERMAN IS THE EMBODIMENT OF A HERO AND THE CW GETS THIS. He cares.
I’m not ashamed to say that several times during Episode 11–the flashback origin story–I teared up a bit. Every single episode of this show has a moment where I think to myself, goddamnit this is how you do Superman. This show reminded me of every reason why I loved the character, why I read the comic books voraciously, why I have watched every TV show and every movie religiously–and appreciated almost all of them on some level. I watched both of the first two Christopher Reeve movies in the theater, and got goosebumps (I will never forget the ads for the first one: You will believe a man can fly! And I fucking did!)
I honestly never thought I would ever see a Superman adaptation again that would give me that same thrill–and Superman and Lois does, with every episode.
Superman was my first super-hero comic book when I was a kid, when I moved on from Archie and the Riverdale kids. There was a comic book dispenser machine at the Jewel Osco in our neighborhood in Chicago when I was a kid, and Mom would always give me enough change to get a couple of comic books (because I would then sit in the front of the store and read them while she shopped in peace; I don’t understand why my parents never completely grasped the concept I could always be bribed into good behavior with reading material) and I remember being tired of Archie and thinking–knowing–my father would be pleased if I read something more, well, boys-oriented. Some of the boys in my class at school were way into Superman and DC Comics; so I thought, what the hell and put my change into the machine, getting Action, Adventure and Superman comic books. I very quickly became a big fan, also reading the Superman-adjacent comics as well: Lois Lane, Jimmy Olsen, Superboy, Supergirl, Justice League of America and Legion of Super-Heroes. This also led to reading all the Batman books, Wonder Woman, Flash, Teen Titans, Green Lantern/Green Arrow, and so on and so forth. As a DC Comics fan, I don’t thin I ever reached what would qualify me for “nerd” status; I loved them all, though, and also followed along with all the adjacent media adaptations–the Superman movies; the Wonder Woman television show, etc. I’ve seen all the movies, and started reading the comics again in my mid-twenties, and then again in my early thirties. I’ve kept up with them over the years; all the reboots and so forth, all the television iterations–Lois & Clark, Smallville, etc.–and enjoyed them all. When CW started adapting the various characters for television, I began following them as well–the first seasons of both Arrow and Flash were amazing…but we did eventually stop watching because both shows seemed to be repeating themselves, and I slowly began getting way behind on them all…and wasn’t really sure, to be honest, that I wanted to give Superman and Lois a whirl. As I said, love Henry Cavill as Superman, but the movies just weren’t quite there…
But being a fan of gorgeous Tyler Hoechlin from his Teen Wolf days, one afternoon while making condom packs, I decided to give it a shot.
At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Elizabeth Tulloch’s Lois Lane, but I did like the entire idea of them being married and the parents of twin sons, Jonathon and Jordan–although I winced at the thought of the inevitable CW teen drama to come. But…Tulloch had completely won me over by the second episode, and I really enjoy the twins. Jordan Elsass and Alexander Garfin are perfectly cast, and look enough alike to be believable as fraternal twins. The family drama at the heart of the show–having to tell the twins their father is Superman when one of them begins to develop powers, how they deal with one being powered and the other not–is so incredibly well-written and well-acted that it sucked me right in. I also loved that Morgan Edge is the villain, rather than Lex Luthor or General Zod–which is how they always inevitably begin these types of shows/movies/stories–and I also loved that they waited until Episode 11 to actually give us the origin story, done in flashbacks. They are getting it right on every note, every level–and while we used to roll our eyes at Smallville with great regularity despite being completely sucked in…Superman and Lois gets it right. They understand that Superman and Clark are, at heart, incredibly decent human beings who will always put the needs of others first, no matter what the personal cost to themselves…and the caring about humanity and the greater good is there.
I absolutely love this show, and can’t wait for new episodes to come in July.
If you’re a Superman fan, you should be watching this show if you want to see it done right.
*I realized later I should have checked the CW app, and sure enough, there it was. Sigh.
When I was a kid and into comic books (and in all honesty, I never tired of comic books; getting out of them was generally an economic decision as well as one of time), one of my absolute favorites was Teen Titans.
The Teen Titans were all the sidekicks of the major super-heroes; kind of a junior Justice League: Robin, Wonder Girl, Aqualad, and Kid Flash, later adding more members like Green Arrow’s sidekick, Speedy. They were teenagers, and as a kid, I could relate to them more than I could to the adult super-heroes (which, of course, didn’t stop me from enjoying the adult super-heroes). Eventually, they were relaunched as the New Teen Titans, in the mid to late 1970’s (I could be wrong about these dates, but it’s what I remember). The News Depot on Commercial Street in Emporia had about four or five magazine racks (they didn’t sell hardcover novels, only paperbacks), and the last rack, closest to where the books started, was where they stocked the comic books. I remember The New Teen Titans from buying them in Emporia, which is where I get the dates from.
This new iteration of the Titans included non-sidekick heroes: Starfire and Cyborg and Raven and Jericho. In the early 1980’s Dock Grayson progressed from Robin to Nightwing, becoming an adult–and one of my absolute favorite heroes.
I love this new iteration of Dick Grayson. (I also remember when the news broke in the late 1980’s that DC was killing off Robin and being initially traumatized at the loss of Dick Grayson–and then remembered there was a new Robin–Jason Todd–and that MY Robin was now Nightwing and sighed in relief.)
I never watched any of the animated series–which I really need to correct–but I subscribed to DC Universe solely because they were launching an original, live action Titans series, and it was from the Greg Berlanti production team, which had done so well with the Arrowverse series. (I eventually stopped watching these shows, but will undoubtedly go back to them at some point.)
I watched season one during a period last year when I was going to the gym again–between New Year’s and Carnival–and watched an episode every day I went while walking on the treadmill. I enjoyed the show, but wasn’t sure if it would be something Paul would like–he tired of the Arrowverse before I did–and I have never pushed my love of super-heroes on him too much (he does watch the films with me). I liked the show, but it never really grabbed me; I thought it was incredibly well done, and of course, the actor they hired to play Dick–who was no longer Robin but also not yet Nightwing–was gorgeous.
That’s Brenton Thwaites in the remake of The Blue Lagoon. But don’t let the fact he appeared in that keep you from watching Titans–he’s actually quite good in it. And he’s not that baby-faced anymore.
Much better.
When Season One opens, the Titans have disbanded and scattered. Dick is now a detective with the Detroit police department, trying to distance himself not only from his teammates but from his own past, with Batman. But he still suits up from time to time and wreaks havoc on the criminals of the city–but he’s concerned that he can no longer control his rage, which is part of the reason he no longer wants to be a masked vigilante anymore.
The primary driver of the Season One plot is Rachel, a young girl with strange powers she doesn’t understand and she’s afraid of; in the first episode her mother (or so she thinks; played by Sherilynn Fenn from Twin Peaks) is murdered and she’s been having dreams in which she sees the death of Dick’s parents…and with her own mother murdered and going on the run, she tries to track Dick down. (Rachel is, I assume, eventually going to become Raven.) Teagan Croft plays the part well.
Teagan Croft as Rachel Roth
Kory Anders, a gorgeous and perhaps the best written part on the entire series, is chasing Rachel as well–but cannot remember who she is or why. As a long-time Titans fan, I knew she was Starfire–and she forms a great bond with Rachel, as well as Dick–they sleep together; I do remember them as a couple from the comics. Brilliantly played by Anna Diop, she also gets the best lines, and perhaps the coolest super powers.
Anna Diop as Starfire
We also meet Beast Boy, aka Gar Logan, when Rachel escapes from some villains trying to capture her and winds up at the mansion where the Doom Patrol live (this is kind of a backdoor pilot for The Doom Patrol series; I am interested in watching the show, which was produced after some recasting–and they brought in some big names: Brendan Frasier, Timothy Dalton, and Matt Bomer); after Dick and Kory catch up to her there, Gar leaves with them and they continue their adventures.
Ryan Potter as Beast Boy
Gar quickly becomes my favorite character on the show.
We also meet Hank and Dawn, aka Hawk and Dove, who now live in DC and are a couple–Dawn used to be with Dick (which plays out more in backstory in season two) and both are great characters, played very well by Alan Ritchson and Minka Kelly.
Hawk and Dove
Those who are paying close attention will recognize Ritchson–he guest starred on Smallville a few times as Aquaman. He’s also gorgeous.
It doesn’t hurt you in the super-hero casting process to have underwear model on your resume.
We also get to meet Wonder Girl, Donna Troy, played quite well by Conor Leslie.
Conor Leslie as Wonder Girl
The entire first season really revolves around the mystery of who Kory is, and why so many people are out to either capture or kill Rachel. Oh, I also forgot, we also meet new Robin, Dick’s replacement, Jason Todd.
Curran Walters as Jason Todd, Robin 2.0
He’s pretty–almost cartoonishly so–both Paul and I thought that he actually looks like a comic book character.
So, the Titans essentially reunite, Season One ends with a cliffhanger involving the big bad, and Season Two begins with not only the big bad being defeated, but an evolution of Rachel’s powers–the former Titans take off, while Dick brings the new Titans (Gar, Rachel, and Jason) to Titans Tower in San Francisco to train and become the new team. Not a bad first season, not bad at all.
But Season Two? Season Two is epic.
I won’t spoil anything–but there are two big bads–CADMUS Labs (aka Lex Luthor) and Deathstroke–played by Esai Morales (in the Arrowverse he was played by Manu Bennett; not sure why the switch, or if the two universes aren’t connected after all, despite Greg Berlanti’s involvement). We also meet Conner Kent (Superboy), Rose Wilson, Jericho Wilson, and Bruce Wayne/Batman.
Even better? KRYPTO.
Joshua Orpin as Superboy, Conner Kent, with Krypto
I think this is from one of the recent reboots of the comic book universe, but Conner is a clone, developed from a combination of Superman’s DNA and Lex Luthor’s and grown at CADMUS Labs. I’ve always loved Superboy–which is one of the reasons I watched every season of Smallville–and was very happy to see this addition to the cast.
I also greatly loved the mute character of Jericho from the comics, and was delighted to see him added to the cast, and played by Chella Man–and even cooler, the actor is trans.
Chella Man as Jericho, and various iterations of the character over the years.
Chelsea Zhang is pretty badass as Rose, too.
We also all too briefly meet Aqualad, played by Pretty Little Liars’ Drew Van Acker.
Season Two not only has the two big bads, but also explores in greater detail–which we didn’t really see much of in season one–the two great tragedies that led to the break-up of the original Titans team, and why Dick was questioning being a caped crusader in the first place….plus we see Dick transition back into being a hero, being reborn as Nightwing.
It’s very well done, and I highly recommend it, if you’re into super-heroes.
Yesterday was a bit of a revelation. The other day (yesterday? Who knows? My memory has more holes than Swiss cheese) I was talking about how the Internet is such an enormous distraction, and one of the terrific things about the old dial-up modems was the process of signing onto the web was such an irritating process that it wasn’t a big deal to shut it all down when I had other things to get done and couldn’t be distracted. So, yesterday I did precisely that: I closed down both browsers when it was time to work, and guess what? Not only did I get some work done on the Scotty, I got the page proofing for Survivor’s Guilt and Other Stories form filled out, cleaned the apartment (the living room still needs work) and made shrimp creole for dinner. I also wound up watching the final three episodes of Titans last night (which were quite excellent, I might add), and read some more Walter Mosley before going to bed. So, this morning I am going to finish writing this blog post before cleaning out my email inboxes, after which I am going to shut down my browsers and get to work. I want to finish cleaning the living room, have some dishes and laundry to do, some minor touches need to be done in the kitchen, and then I am most likely going to make potato leek soup for dinner in the slow cooker.
Pretty cool, huh? I felt really good in getting that work on Scotty done yesterday, and I think it’s good work. I am most definitely pleased with myself. I also need to make a list of things that need to get done this week.
I have to say, shutting down the Internet on my desktop was a pretty genius thing to do. I couldn’t believe how much free time I had yesterday to get things done. I will admit I occasionally checked my phone every few hours or so, and last night while I was watching television I also pulled out the iPad occasionally, but over all it was terrific. I had already, years ago, came up with a new rule to not answer emails over the weekends (emails always beget emails), and limiting the Internet is actually kind of genius.
I was very pleased with the entire first season of Titans. This is how you launch a television series about a super-hero team; a continuing story arc where you get to know the characters as they work together or meet each other, with back story episodes mixed in here and there to deepen and enrich the viewer’s understanding of the characters. The actors are all good in their roles–they are gorgeous and can act–and the main character arc–the growth of Dick Grayson from sidekick Robin into himself as an individual rather than what Bruce Wayne/Batman wants him, has been grooming him, to be–is very compelling, as is trying to solve the mystery of who amnesiac Kory is, and who Rachel actually is and what the source of her power is. Kudos for an excellent first season.
Friday night I watched two episodes and resisted bingeing the rest…and discovered that the pilot for the Aquaman series the CW had considered doing during the run of Smallville was available on DC Universe, starring the incredibly handsome Justin Hartley as Arthur Curry/Aquaman. (He now stars on This Is Us.) The pilot is terrible, really terrible, and I can see why the CW didn’t pick it up. Hartley went on to play Green Arrow on Smallville, which was how I came to be a fan of the handsome actor with the phenomenal body. But as I watched Titans, the actor who plays Hank/Hawk (of Hawk and Dove), Alan Ritchson, looked familiar. Last night it hit me: he played Aquaman on Smallville! After the Aquaman pilot failed and the show cast Hartley as Green Arrow, when they brought in Aquaman he was played by Ritchson, who now plays Hawk on Titans–and does a great job of it, too. And of course later, when Greg Berlanti (also involved in Titans) rebooted Green Arrow as Arrow, he cast Stephen Amell as Arrow rather than spinning Hartley off, which also worked. So, how confusing is all of this? Pretty confusing. Hartley played Aquaman and then Green Arrow; Ritchson played Aquaman but now plays Hawk; Amell now plays Green Arrow. Whether Titans will cross over with the other DC Universe shows on the CW–Arrow, Flash, Legends of Tomorrow, Supergirl–remains to be seen.
But I have to give it up to this rebooted television DC Universe. And this isn’t even getting into the film DC Universe.
Right? It’s a lot.
The nice thing about the DC Universe subscription is you can also read comic books on the app for free, so I don’t have to buy them anymore. Also a really good thing, because I still haven’t read all the comics on my iPad that I’ve bought. There’s never enough time, quite frankly.
All right, on that note, Constant Reader, it’s back to the spice mines. Have a lovely Sunday.
Queer and Loathing in America 