The Beat's analysis points out that this cover might not be presenting Supergirl as the brightest crayon in the box.
My take? I was actually more surprised that Final Crisis was still going on. That series totally fell off my radar. So in that case, this cover was actually a success, because it brought to my attention that Final Crisis is still taking place.
But possible anti-feminist interpretations of the art aside, what are these covers really contributing to the series? They tell me absolutely nothing about the story. They only bank off the idea that "icons sell."
And you know who is one of the very few artists who can pull off a successful non-narrative "icons sell" cover? Alex Ross. He could paint Herbie The Fat Fury on a cover and make it sell well. Plus, he doesn't paint Supergirl as if she has a half-eaten snickers bar in her cranium where her brain should be.
Or screw that, what makes a 100,000+ selling comic book???
Secret Invasion: Sure it's an event -- but it also has had national publicity. You could say ditto for Batman, because of the movie.
Astonishing X-Men & BTVS: The Whedon connection.
Big brands: JLA, Batman, X-Men, Avengers, Wolverine.
Most impressive: Thor.
See, a book like Thor had to fight to get in the Top Ten. You might say that X-Men & JLA are "naturals" -- big brands who you'd might expect to be on the sales charts.
But as cool as Thor is, that' s a book that traditionally -- with the possible exception of the Simonson years -- was not a "top tier" book.
That book had to be "built" into a top book.
Can any property be "built" and prepared in such a manner?
Is it that there are no mediocre-selling properties -- just mediocre presentation?
Also: is the answer just more spin-offs?
Would DC increase its slice of the pie by just adding another Batman title? A pseudo-movie spinoff, perhaps? Call it Dark Knight? (forgive me if they already have one & I didn't realize it)
Like Invincible Iron Man, it would have stylistic elements from the movie, tying the film into it in a way (though not really, continuity-wise).
"A judge has denied a Warner Bros. motion to dismiss 20th Century Fox’s lawsuit over Warners’ right to make a film based on the graphic novel "Watchmen."
Ruling is potentially a huge victory for Fox, which could wind up as a profit participant in the film, and could cost Warners millions considering the film’s box office prospects. However, Fox’s legal team says it isn’t looking for monetary compensation and instead wants to prevent the big-budget film from being released altogether."
Diamond's Scoop blog has a picture of a 1933 advertisement for the pulp "Doc Savage" that predates "Superman" by 5 years. The catch? The ad clearly refers to Doc as "Superman."
I can has more lawsuits?
Who owns the rights to Doc Savage nowadays, anyway?
The following story is not for the squeamish. It might not be good breakfast reading, either.
I was watching a special the other night on "the psychology of Batman" or something like that. It went into detail on the key event that shaped young Bruce Wayne's life, and how it shaped him in a conscious and unconscious way, going down each layer and influencing how he decided to live his life. There was the event itself -- the murder of his parents -- and the details surrounding the event -- the Zorro movie, bats, etc.
Watching that program brought to mind the following memory from my childhood, one I both consciously and unconsciously recall every once in a while, in different ways. It's about something very terrible that happened not to me, but to someone I didn't even know.
One night when I was around eight years old I woke up to hear loud banging on the front door of our apartment. My mom answered the door, I heard some murmurs, and then the door closed again. I went back to sleep.
Later on that night, woken up by the sound of men who weren't my dad talking, I found two policemen talking to my mom by the front door. The policemen had pads out, and at least one was wearing gloves.
On my front door was lots and lots of smeared blood, and pooled blood soaked into our welcome mat.
So this is what happened:
A young woman who lived two doors down from us was attacked by her live-in boyfriend with a machete. Yes, a fucking machete:
She was cut up all over the place, her hair soaked in blood, some of her scalp hanging off. In a panic, she ran to a number of neighbor's apartments, including that of my family, and banged on their doors to let her in. After this proved to be unsuccessful, she limped down to the next floor, to try those apartments. That's when another woman let her in, tried to calm her down, and called the police.
My mom explained to the police that she was just really frightened by the sight of this woman, didn't know what was going on, and feared for her kids. That's why she didn't let her in.
Now I must explain to you what my front door looked like. I'm not talking a little stain of blood, a hand print. I'm talking about Nightmare On Elm Street level blood. You know the scene where the blond chick is attacked by an invisible Freddy and is writhing on the ceiling? Remember how much bleeding? That's how much we are talking about. Even as a child, I marveled at the news that she was still alive, that a woman could bleed so much and not die.
And I distinctly remember our door handle, and how it was stained. It was a brass door handle. The woman had gripped it, trying to get in. I remember how red the blood was -- still fresh -- against that brass door handle.
As for the doormat, as I said, that was just soaked. And a trail of red footprints led from the mat to the head of the stairs leading to the next floor.
By this time my dad, who worked at night, had just come home. He started talking to the police, and my mom used the opportunity to grab some Ajax powder and sprinkle the blood with it, to disinfect it. She poured the powder on the mat, the door, and the door handle, and I remember that white stuff just sticking to the blood, getting soaked in it.
And by THIS time -- it was time for me and my little sister to go to school. So we got dressed and my mom helped us step over the bloody welcome mat to go to the elevator. And I distinctly remember stepping over that mat.
I played that night back in my mind for a long time afterwards. It was the first time I witnessed anything that I could label The Horror. So there was the visceral visual impact of it. But then there was the other impact, questions...
So this woman was bleeding to death, obviously in serious distress, and nobody on my floor opened the fucking door for her and let her in? Did anybody call 911?
The story went that this woman and her boyfriend were allegedly drug addicts -- and in a way, there was the insinuation that this was sort of "coming to her." That because of that lifestyle, this was going to happen sooner or later.
But when you have somebody half out of their mind in fear on your doorstep, all cut up, how do you make these judgments? This woman could die -- she could die on your fucking doorstep!
Was race/nationality a factor? The woman was Hispanic. At that time, most of the people on my floor were white. The woman downstairs who eventually opened the door for her was Hispanic as well -- and also had kids. The woman not only opened the door for her but sat her down on her couch and made her coffee. If the victim had been "white," would she have gotten more help earlier?
And I can make judgments on those who didn't help her -- but how can I make judgments on my mom? Weren't her fears legitimate? Finding a bloody woman at her front door in the middle of the night, with a crazy boyfriend still around with a machete? Three small children still asleep in the apartment, my dad still away at work?
But still, no matter how many times I turned the story around in my head, examined it from different angles -- it stuck with me, and it was messy. There were no comforting, clear answers. It stuck in the back of my subconscious, sphinx-like. I even felt guilty at times for it, about her, though there was obviously nothing I could have done at the time.
It plays back in my mind, this woman screaming, though I never really saw her -- but I see her in my mind, screaming for help, banging on doors, hysterical, the man she loved and trusted having just tried to kill her.
In the end, regardless if the woman was into drugs or not, regardless if race was a factor or not, regardless if my mom and the other tenants were justified or not -- in the end, this is the story about a severely injured woman who was looking frantically for help and found doors slammed in her face as she was possibly dying from her wounds.
And while this story still stays with me, it was only until watching that special on Batman that I was persuaded to take a second look at art and writing I had made years ago and realize what my unconscious was trying to remind me:
Now, according to this blog, there has been an openly gay character in the extended Star Wars universe.
And, of course, the "sexuality" of C3PO is under some debate.
But the point is, both "Capote The Hutt" and C3PO, if they indeed are meant to represent homosexuals, represent them as stereotypes.
Isn't there any room at this point for a non-stereotypical gay Star Wars character of more importance than one created for a related videogame or paperback?
But that's the charm of the Star Wars universe, isn't it? It's like seeing everything through the eyes of an eager eight-year-old boy raised on old movie serials from the 1930s and 40s. Lots of fun and adventure, low on subtlety, bits of unintentional offensiveness here and there.
(That's why I like Star Trek just a little bit more. Though they could do a better job in this department as well, as documented here.)
"My whole thing is that that I saw 'The Dark Knight'. I feel like I'm dumb because I feel like I don't get how many things that are so smart. It's like a Ferrari engine of storytelling and script writing and I'm like, 'That's not my idea of what I want to see in a movie.' I loved 'The Prestige' but didn't understand 'The Dark Knight'. Didn't get it, still can't tell you what happened in the movie, what happened to the character and in the end they need him to be a bad guy. I'm like, 'I get it. This is so high brow and so f--king smart, I clearly need a college education to understand this movie.' You know what? F-ck DC comics. That's all I have to say and that's where I'm really coming from."
I'll be honest with you, I caught the first 20 minutes or so of "Dark Knight" and felt no motivation to see the rest of the film. It didn't pull me in, it didn't compel me to want to see more or to care about the characters. I'm sorry. It was just like when I watched "Batman Begins" -- technically, a beautiful movie. Intelligent. Great performances. Pristinely shot. No motivation to see it again, no moments of wonder that I look back on fondly and remember. Just cold and beautiful.
In contrast, "Iron Man" grabbed me by the throat and said: "CARE ABOUT ME!" From the very first scene to the very last scene.
Since I found the "Spider-Man" movies to be very much in the same vein as "Iron Man," and "Superman Returns" more along the lines of the new Batman movies, is this just going to be a stylistic difference between these two studios? Can WB make a "Green Lantern" movie, for example, that can have the life and personality of an "Iron Man?"
Not saying "Dark Knight" is better than "Iron Man," or is a bad film. Just saying that "Iron Man" had a lot of heart, and when I think of "heart," I don't think of "Dark Knight."
And lovelovelovelovellovelove me some Robert Downey Jr.
I watched this recent movie the other day called "John Tucker Must Die" that made "The Craft" look like "No Country For Old Men" and "The Breakfast Club" look like "Citizen Kane." It seemed so stupid, shallow, and without relevance to the realities teens really face. And yet I wondered if it was really all those things -- or was I just becoming an old fuddy-duddy? I was open to the possibility that I didn't appreciate it because I just wasn't 16 -- and that perhaps it really was a good movie, only I couldn't recognize it.
Teen movie, 1985
Somehow, I remember "The Breakfast Club" and "Say Anything" having a bit more depth than "John Tucker Must Die." "Breakfast Club" dealt with rebellion, pain, abuse, and friendship. It was, to an extent, about teens attempting to forge their own identities in the face of a system that wanted them to just follow preprogrammed roles. It addressed frustrations and emotions that I could relate to; and as such, I felt very involved with the movie, and even changed (slightly) by it.
Teen movie, 1996
In contrast, "John Tucker Must Die" is about a plain girl who gets turned into a Cool Girl as part of the plot of three Cool Girls to get revenge on a cute guy who cheated on them. Lest you think this film is in any way a serious examination on any or all issues inferred by the description, let me describe one scene to you:
The girls secretly feed their target, John Tucker, estrogen. Within minutes, he gets a tender "breastal" area, a craving for chocolate, a higher voice, and all weepy. I mean, every stereotype you could think of for women, that's what he was after eating the estrogen. It was this scene that solidified everything I hated about the movie in one slick sequence. "John Tucker Must Die" must die.
The girls in this movie were the most two-dimensional characters you can possibly think of. They were like the "Spice Girls" -- each one had a gimmick. The Smart One. The Sporty One. And the Slutty Hippie. Unlike the characters in "The Breakfast Club," I couldn't fathom wanting to get to know any of them.
Teen movie, 2006
To be fair, I guess "John Tucker Must Die" is a standard teen sex comedy, only it was made in 2006 and not 1983 so there really isn't that much exposed flesh. Probably had more to do with a 1960s beach movie than "Porkys." Which is what I think films like this really are -- beach movies, bubblegum, harmless. Entertainment for the masses with nothing really threatening in them, nothing to challenge the status quo or make young people think.
That brings up another thing -- many of the teen idols that are really hot right now seem like throwbacks to American Bandstand, the sort entertainers that Dick Clark would put his seal of approval on. The Jonas Brothers. Miley Cyrus. Where are the rebels? Where are the entertainment sensations that change a generation? Elvis? Beatles? The Clash? Nirvana? Hello, anyone? Bueller? Bueller?
From dangerous...
Today's teen idols seem younger than the ones when I was a kid. I remember Michael Jackson, Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Prince -- they were all adults. Now the music acts are more often than not the same age or similar in age to their audience. I guess in a way that's a good thing? But as teenage products of a machine often called "Disney" or "Nickelodeon," how much counter-cultural messages can you actually have? Or want to have? Or think to have? Or be allowed to have?
...to harmless.
But there are worse things than to have "clean" acts for teens. Just because I wouldn't necessarily put a lot of this music on my iPod doesn't mean it's not good or relevant music. I just think it's interesting that we are kind of in another "Bubblegum Pop" phase in music.
I think a revival of "The Archies" are in order. And I'm not being sarcastic, I actually think Archie Publications should do a talent search for the next "Archies" band and get it distributed through Disney or Nick. They'd make a fortune.
At issue? The liberal use of the word "retard" in the film -- specifically in regards to a movie-within-a-movie where Ben Stiller's character plays a mentally-disabled man.
Is this another case of PC-attitudes going amok? Or can a legitimate point be made that the word "retard" is as offensive as other words that are now mostly taboo?
Personally, I make it a point not to use the word "retard." It's just one of those words that seems kind of hurtful and ugly, even if used in the 1980s teen movie bully-picking-on-somebody sort of way that doesn't specifically refer to someone with learning disabilities.
That said, I can see that in the movie "Tropic Thunder" the point is that it's almost a cliche how actors and actresses pick parts as mentally disabled characters to establish their "cred" as serious thespians. Sometimes this turns out great, other times you get "I Am Sam" which I had to literally watch from a distance and halfway from another room because it was so corny.
But I don't like to use the word "retard," and maybe the protesters are right in so much as they suggest we give the term a second look and question its acceptance.
(I plan to watch "Tropic Thunder" eventually but really would rather see "Step Brothers.")
If this was really the body of a genuine Bigfoot, wouldn't the authorities or the military get involved?
You announce to the public: "I have the corpse of a 9-foot as-of-yet undiscovered lifeform in a freezer in my shed." The FBI doesn't get involved? Mulder doesn't get sent down to check it out?
And since the Bigfoot is humanoid, aren't there legal issues here about holding on to the body? Was it a homicide or a natural death? Shouldn't there be any inquest? Should there be a proper burial?
I'm very open-minded about these X-Files type things, but I have a hard time with Bigfoot. Because if there really are these large creatures living in pockets of the United States, where are the bones? Wouldn't there be more dead bodies found?
And if the creatures are so advanced that they know how to stay away from humans and to assiduously bury their dead as to not be discovered -- what business does anybody have keeping their corpses in one of those portable freezer containers?
If you are lucky, when you were a kid you had parents or guardians who didn't completely hate the idea that you liked comic books.
My mother absolutely hated the idea that I collected comics. Not for the usual Wertham-esque reasons that comics would rot my brains or make me into a serial killer, but because they weren't feminine enough for me. She thought they would muck up my teenage socialization because they were a non-"gender appropriate" activity.
And to be terribly frank with you, she was right to an extent -- I got teased a bit in school for being a comics fan (this was the mid-80s, to give you some perspective). Now, how much of that teasing was for the simple geekery of being a fan and how much of it was for being a female collector? Who can say?
But I still would have liked support at home, regardless of my hobbies. Instead, my Mom engaged in a war against my comics, the crowning achievement of which was to tear the comics up in little postage-stamp-sized pieces and throw them in the air like party confetti.
A word to any parents out there who might be considering a similar tactic to rid their kids from habits they don't like: it doesn't work. It only imprints in their mind, at a time of their lives where they're just looking for something to rebel against anyhow, that it is heroic to "not give up the fight." You create stubborn children this way.
A friend of mine's father took things one step further. He took all of my friend's comics and burned them into ashes in an oven. My friend grew up to be a comic book hoarder.
"Comics' original sin echoes over the course of its history. It rips to the surface in a variety of nasty ways to which old men, widows and children mournfully testify. It spawns a thousand and one grinning doppelgangers carrying a bag of the oldest tricks. It rains abuse on a creative class that at times bristles, at times is grimly accepting, and at times gives birth to one or two poor, depraved souls that will fight for the imagined rightness of someone else, many someone elses, to benefit from an inspired act of creation ahead of that creator. What happened to Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster isn't history, not in the way history is usually defined. It is close, and it is awful, and it can't help but make you just a little bit sad."
The quote reminds me of that scene in the New Frontier animated movie where the artist at his table finishes his book about man's inhumanity to man and then blows his brains out. When I first watched that, I immediately read it as a reference to the angst many of these comic creators went through -- and read the artist at his drawing table as being a comic book artist. In fact, it seemed so obvious and stark a reference that it really really shocked me.
However, I will go one step further and say that I think this type of exploitation and frustration is everywhere in this society -- school teachers experience it, TV writers experience it, store clerks experience it. I think there is a fundamental mechanism built in some human beings -- or maybe it's in all of us, and it's only "active" in some -- that leads them to take from others without producing and exploit the weak.
In the Comics Reporter piece, the way Siegel/Shuster was treated by DC is referred to as the industry's original sin. That may be true, but it's just part of a far far earlier state of affairs. It's only the fact that superhero books like Superman are supposed to be about "Truth, Justice, and The American Way" that makes the story so remarkable, and so ironic.
For the record, even back when I supported John Edwards and pushed for him to be at least VP, I thought he reminded me of the notorious "Smiler" president from Transmetropolitan.
The fact that he decided to risk the Democratic election by covering up the affair he had while his wife was in cancer remission only makes it moreso.
I don't condemn him for the affair, but I think had he made it to the presidential nomination and this stuff came out now -- it would have cost everything. It was irresponsible. But -- as he himself said in his speech a few days ago -- he was on an "ego trip."
In theory it's because of a press release embargo, but I'm sure the fact that AICN said the movie sucked didn't help. The review was almost as harsh as the one they did for "The Love Guru."
As for me -- I have some problems with the computer animation style in this movie. It looks like a videogame. I liked that Dexter's Lab guy's simple classic animation on the Cartoon Network "Clone Wars" a lot more.
One quote from the pulled review, reposted on Fark, got my attention:
"Then they introduced Baby Jabba aka Rotta the Huttlet aka Stinky."
"During the brief time I worked at DC, it was interesting to contrast Morrison's proposals to others'.
Morrison's proposals were always driven by economics and re-establishing brand identity. This is what DC Comics are good at; this is an untapped market need; these characters are valid trademarks and can perhaps be rehabilitated into spin-off children's cartoons.
I'm not clear whether Morrison can take this approach because of his high level of authority within the DC creative structure... or whether Morrison attained his high level of authority because of that economically-minded approach.
But for all of his reputation as a madcap, drug-addled sentimentalist, his approach is extremely mercenary. Nobody else apparently gave any thought to such matters in pitching new series, and it shows."
What I remember -- granted (pun!) this was several years ago --
Grant (and many other writers) would pitch stories and series featuring really obscure DC characters. And I'm not sure if there was a tacit understanding between him and management that he was creating these characters to extend "brand equity."
Specifically, I remember the complaint (and this wasn't just regarding Grant):
"All they're giving me is Red Bee pitches! Rag Man and Red Bee pitches!"
If anything, the "crew" were a little exasperated that Grant chose to focus on those characters more than, say Superman. And so what you really had was more of a trade-off -- "I'll see you your obscure mini-series for one blockbuster Superman series."
Which makes Grant a little less of a "mercenary" and more like, say, Owen Wilson.
Owen Wilson does awesome arty movies (either as an actor or behind-the-scenes), and then he does "Shanghai Express IV." He does "Shanghai Express IV" in order that he can do awesome arty movies.
Let's take another look at Owen, just for my edification:
See? "Drillbit Taylor" -- but also the writer of "Rushmore." And rocks a Black Sabbath T-Shirt.
And if he was a comic book writer? Red Bee pitch. Absolutely.
EDIT: I've just found another template that blows the one at the link right out of the water. So I'm going to start from scratch again, probably have the new one up in a few days.
Built it up more over the weekend, I'm pretty happy with it, though it still needs tweaking.
It's definitely more a magazine than a blog.
Definitely more ambitious than I had envisioned.
Question: if you were reading a new comics site, what sort of info would you want most?
* Previews * Interviews * Reviews * Op-Ed * Short, fun features ("The Top Ten Male Superheroes With Red Hair") * Non-comics stuff -- movies, TV, videogames
Not sure I have the time to really do a site like this, so it's something for me to really ponder.
Actual photo of Superman and God, proving that they are not one-and-the-same person. No photographic evidence yet clearing Clark Kent, however.
I don't moderate all my comments, though I try to read most of them.
Among the comments not moderated by me was one that my co-moderator would only refer to as "nasty."
It said something along the lines that I should be (literally) arrested for saying anything disparaging about DC, and that the commentor was going to contact Blogger to have my blog taken down.
Meanwhile, 2000 dead in Georgia, Russia is at war, and an American has gotten stabbed to death at the Olympics. Today.
But what was really important to this person was that nobody disparage DC Comics or question their rights over Superman. (If it was indeed the Superman post he was referring to. It could have been those Countdown posts).
In this person's mind, there might have even been a connection to it all; that if we besmirch an American institution like DC, if we weaken its hold on Superman -- the "commies" win. Yeah, we might end up in a conflict with China or Russia one day -- and that's when we need Superman and the Justice Society intact. And we can't have people screwing around with Green Lantern, either.
It reminds me that some fans have a near-religious attachment to their superheroes. Scratch "near" -- it's just plain religious.
I mean, what do you do in a religion? You have sacred books. "Crisis." "Kingdom Come." "Infinite Crisis."
You also quote those books a lot, and refer to specific passages.
Then, there is the concept of what's canonical, and what's apocrypha. As you know, many many people have died in religious disputes over these issues -- and continue to do so.
But you just have to have continuity. Or else -- it all falls apart. And you can't let "wrongheaded" beliefs -- like Spider-Man shouldn't be with Mary Jane for the rest of his life -- hold sway. Because then you have heresy. And you know what they do with heretics.
Looking back on it, I feel DC knew very well the fervor with which their loyalest fans held to their characters. And this goes beyond standard comic book readership, to just people who idolize Superman or Batman but don't know a lot about the monthly comics themselves. I always thought that if DC could really get those particular fans to buy the comics, they'd really be swimming in dough.
So at DC I was told that we had a very special job -- we were the caretakers of icons.
As such, there was a protocol, especially for the most popular characters.
"Superman" can't do this, "Batman" can't do that. The logos on the chest had to be drawn just right. And Power Girl's breasts needed to be a certain size. Seriously. It's a trademark.
But there was a sense that we were to avoid any scandal relating to the company or the characters at all costs -- that nothing should darken the aura of Superman in any way, directly or indirectly.
And we took that pretty seriously. That's why a lot of us were very neurotic about doing the wrong thing -- in terms of how we interacted with the public, in terms of what the characters were allowed to say in their word balloons, everything. I know some people joke about DC being "The Kremlin" -- this is probably why.
And for companies that have such iconic characters as Superman in their stable, this can be common.
Take, for example, Disney. When I was editing Disney books for Acclaim, one of our writers came up with a story called "Dopey The Genius," in which the Snow White character temporarily becomes smart. Disney completely rejected this on the grounds that it too radically challenged the concept of "Dopey." As our Disney contact told us: "Dopey is sacred here."
Obviously, Superman is not Dopey. Neither is he God. Neither is he a real person.
What Superman is, at best, is an inspirational symbol. But inspirational symbols are tricky.
You should let the symbol inspire you, but you shouldn't get too attached to it. Let Superman inspire you "in the moment" -- but then step out of that headspace and admit to yourself that he was a character created by two kids who were in turn inspired by other heroes. Admit to yourself that back in the 1940s, the company that would eventually become DC Comics took a chance on a concept, saw that it had a lot of potential, and sought to retain as much rights and financial gain on the concept as possible -- as many companies did and do.
Admit to yourself that one day, DC Comics will lose the exclusive copyright on Superman, and that many many artists and writers of varying degrees of talent and varying motives and political leanings will seize upon this character and do a 1,000 different things with it.
Yes. They will. A few might even make him gay.
And what will be done then? Will a holy war be declared to suss out just who the "correct" Superman is? Is it like "Crisis On Infinite Earths" -- but for real???
And as much lip-service as is paid to the Loyalists -- and indeed, DC has of late largely shaped their output to cater to them -- when the new generations are in full bloom, and if the tide changes, and if the 2012 equivalent of Rob Liefeld and Alan Moore shows up on the doorstep of collective comic book culture with the Latest Thing, those sacred continuities and characterization might just be bent and morphed to serve the current climate.
***
I don't cotton to the notion of superheroes or fictional characters as religious icons. I mean, it's fun to look at it all and play around with the concept, in Joseph Campbellian terms -- it's a nice place, and all, but I wouldn't want to live there.
I think religion -- real religion, that induces faith and mobilizes people to act -- is something very very delicate. The thought of that mixed with the place where I got my free comps every week and which fed me potato chips from the conveniently-placed vending machines -- kinda makes want to vomit. That, and the idea of Power Girl as the Virgin Mary. Or Mary Marvel as the Virgin Mary, for that matter.
And one of the things that religious fervor can -- but certainly not always -- do is make one excuse/cover up whatever indiscretions, scandals, negativities, and wrongs that have been committed by the agents of said religion. Because the power of the religion -- or the government, or family unit, or what have you -- is in the belief in its essential infallibility.
In such a mindset, the Siegel situation is a potential apocalypse -- Siegel and Siegel's heirs being considered the Adversary. What is worth more: Superman the intact icon with the DC bullet (or is that a swirl?) to the top left of him, or some creator's rights issues? Icon of millions versus some heirs to some guy?
But if you really love Superman -- Superman in its entirety, the real Superman -- you have to take it all into consideration. You can't hate its creator.
If you really idolize a person or an icon or an entity, but blind yourself to any warts that might obscure the picture -- you're worshiping something that is incomplete, and largely a product of your own mind more than its reality. You don't have to focus on the warts -- but shooting the messengers and burying the victims doesn't make the warts go away.
Detail of the cover to Final Crisis #3
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