In The Afrikan Tradition, we are all Born Dead into This World.
All Men and Women who have ever lived are born into clean, empty vessels of flesh and blood, and become alive, as they become more and more filled up with accumulated memories and experiences until....
“There were real superheroes, of course.
They did exist.
They lived in paper universes, suspended in a pulp continuum where they never aged or died unless it was to be reborn, better than ever, with a new costume.
Real superheroes lived on the surface of the second dimension.
The real lives of real superheroes could be contained in two hands.
They were so real they had lives that were longer than any human life.
They were more real than I was.
They say most human names and biographies are forgotten after four generations, but even the most obscure Golden Age superhero is likely to have a life and a renown that will last as long as trademarks are revived.
There was no physical Marvel universe New York.
You couldn’t buy a ticket and fly there, yet you could buy a comic that would instantly transport you to the only real Marvel universe New York there could ever be—a paper-and-ink virtual-reality simulation—on the pages of the comic books themselves.
A wholly alternative, fully functioning duplicate of New York now existed on the paper skin of the next dimension down from our own:
a city populated by drawn figures of Daredevil, Spider-Man, and the Fantastic Four.
That New York had its own history of alien invasions and tsunamis from Atlantis, but it also kept pace with changing fashions in the “real” world, and it had the capacity to grow in complexity and depth over decades.
It had a continuity that was separate from our own.
Its characters outlived real people, including their creators.
The Baxter Building could outlast real houses made of stone.
In my attempts to see beyond preconceptions to the undeniable actuality of things in Animal Man, I was drifting closer to what could only be termed a kind of psychedelic hyperreality.”
Excerpt From
Supergods
Grant Morrison
“You being given the opportunity to serve as Mother to The Whole of Creation by acting like one and protecting it!”
Daddy’s Home.
Child (of Death)
Little Miss Muffet, Counting Down from 7-2-0
====== GRADUATION ======
====== GRADUATION ======
Stability (and The Illusion of Security)
Spike:
It's, uh . . called The Yoko Factor.
Spike lights a cigarette and Adam just looks at him.
Spike:
Don't tell me you've never heard of The Beatles?
ADAM:
I have.
I like "Helter Skelter."
Spike:
What a Surprise.
The point is, they were once a real powerful group.
It's not a stretch to say they Ruled The World.
And when they broke up everyone blamed Yoko, but the fact is The Group split itself apart, she just happened to be there.
And you know how it is with kids.
They go off to college, they grow apart.
Way of The World.
Buffy looks peaceful. She turns back to Dawn, who stares wide-eyed.
DAWN:
Buffy ... no!
BUFFY:
Dawnie, I have to.
DAWN:
No!
BUFFY:
Listen to me.
Please, there's not a lot of time, listen.
Dawn, Listen to Me. Listen.
I love you. I will always love you.
But this is The Work That I Have to Do.
Tell Giles ... tell Giles I figured it out.
And, and I'm okay.
And give my love to my friends.
You have to take care of them now.
You have to take care of each other.
You have to be Strong.
Dawn, The Hardest Thing in This World ...
Is to Live in It.
Be Brave. Live.
For Me.
BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS
1981-2001
BELOVED SISTER
DEVOTED FRIEND
SHE SAVED THE WORLD
A LOT
======= THE ABYSS =======
======= THE ABYSS =======
Hell (and The Devil You Know)
Hell is Here
Hell is a Prison
Hell on Earth
Hell is Mediocre
Hell is Daily Life
Hell is The Evil of Banality
Hell is Other People
Hell is The Village
Hell is The Devil You Know
Pleased to Meet You,
Hope You Guessed My Name
Hell is The Lesser of Two Evils
Hell is The Evil of Two Lessers
Hell is The Divine Comedy
Hell is Expulsion from Paradise
(Ev’ry Time I Get in, They Pull Me Back Out)
Hell is The Fall of Man
Hell is The Fallen Woman
Hell is Being Trapped
in a Room, Forever
with Your Friends
(Having said that, Satre’s friends were all Frenchmen)
So, Does This Mean... I Can Still Win...?
No comments:
Post a Comment