Well, we survived Comic Con in San Diego, and we survived the earthquake here in Los Angeles. I’m just glad the earthquake didn’t hit last Saturday while my fellow Titaniac Josh and I were trying to make our way across the convention floor to the Shout Factory booth. The first rule of earthquake preparedness is to never be in a position where you can get crushed to death by a nerd avalanche. But we’re all okay, thank God, and it was great to hang out with the rest of the MST3K gang again, and it was great to meet all the fans, who were so sweet and said such nice things that I was able to give my low-self-esteem the weekend off. (It returned Sunday afternoon, unable to stay idle, and anxious to get back on the job.)

I noticed something strange and unexpected at Comic Con: there are still people who go there because they have an interest in comic books. No, really, seriously, I’m not kidding; believe it or not, there are elements of the convention that actually have something to do with comic books! I don’t know how the giant corporations who use Comic Con as a forum to shill their movies and TV shows allowed this to happen, but whenever I came across a booth or a panel devoted to comic books, I found it a refreshing change of pace.

Like every other baby boomer, I had a comic book collection when I was a kid that would have eventually made me a fortune had I not been careless enough to read them and enjoy them. As a dorky adult, I have accumulated many of those comics I loved as a kid in trade paperback collections, which I don’t think have much resale value, but sure are enjoyable to read (there I go again, devaluing cultural artifacts by holding them in my hands and opening them and looking at them). I love all the Marvel stuff of my youth: Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and Steve20Ditko and Wally Wood and Jim Steranko and their ilk. And I spent a sizeable portion of my sitcom wealth on big hard cover collections of EC comics, which are displayed prominently on the top of bookshelves in my palatial Bel Air estate (mainly because that was easier than actually decorating the place).

I’m also a big fan of the “alternative” comics guys. Robert Crumb, of course (the greatest comics artist of all time), and also Dan Clowes, Chris Ware, Bob Fingerman, Drew Friedman, Adrian Tomine, and Harvey Pekar and his various collaborators. (And yes, I realize there are a lot of great people I’m not mentioning; get off my back, I’m only one nerd!) In my opinion, many of the graphic short stories that these folks have written are better than a lot of the short works of fiction published in the New Yorker (and speaking of the New Yorker, when it comes to their cartoonists, they don’t get much funnier than the great Roz Chast!)

I also like much of Alan Moore and Frank Miller’s work (ooh, really stepping out on limb there, aren’t you, Frank?) I really liked Miller’s “Sin City” books, but as we all know, it was his “The Dark Knight Returns” that had a seismic effect not just on comic books but on comic book movies and maybe even movies and TV shows in general. Thanks to the work of Miller and a few others, it is generally accepted that the way to approach a comic book adaptation is to be serious and reverential towards the original source material. The worst thing would be to go the route of the old Adam West “Batman” series and get all silly, campy and goofy. That, in the current climate, is blasphemy.

But as much as I admire many of the modern comic book movies that take the dark and moody approach (the first “X-Men,” all three “Spiderman” movies, and “Batman Begins”; I haven’t seen “The Dark Knight” but I’ve heard nothing but good things), I have to say that I think the silly, campy, goofy approach is perfectly valid as well. I happen to love the Adam West “Batman” series; how could I have been a ten-year-old in 1966 and not loved it? But times have changed. I bet modern ten-year-old kids who see the Adam West version now probably say, “Bogus! It completely betrays the dark, noir-ish vengeance and violence-based dramaturgy that is essential to the Batman mythos!” True enough, but I don’t care, I think that stories about heroes who dress up in costumes and do battle with villains who also dress up in costumes have every right to be silly if that is what reflects the sensibilities of the writers, producers and filmmakers. Thanks to the brilliance of Frank Miller, most artists take the opposite approach, and I’m sure that is a good thing. I’m just saying that there should be a place for the campy goofball approach as well.

My all-time favorite superhero adaptation is the “Adventures of Superman” series from the early fifties. I’ll admit that I mainly love it because it is a cherished TV memory from my early childhood, but when I watch it now I am still struck by its low-budget bargain basement charm and the pure innocence and fun of it all. Plus the cast was wonderful. George Reeves, God rest his soul, was effortlessly likable as Clark Kent / Superman. (And I should also add that Christopher Reeve was equally as good in the Superman films of the seventies and eighties, and the first two in that series rank right up there with the best superhero movies.) Phyllis Coates was sexy in a saucy way as the first Lois Lane, and Noel Neill was sexy in a sweet way and the second Lois. Jack Larson was the perfect Jimmy Olsen, and despite the fact that you could see the strings when Superman flew and the whole thing was obviously fakey, even to a credulous little kid like myself, I can’t help but look back with fondness to a time when we weren’t all jaded by fast-paced sensory overload and elaborate special effects.

Another thing that I loved, and still love to this day, was the fact that even though Superman was a “strange visitor from another planet who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men,” and even though he could literally do anything with his superpowers, he spent all of his time pursuing petty, two-bit criminals in the city of Metropolis. I often wondered why the major political figures of that time didn’t write Superman urgent letters, begging him to raise his superhero game just a few notches. So before I sign off, here are a few of those letters, recently unearthed by the Library of Congress:

Dear Superman,

I don’t know if you’re aware of this or not, but our country and the Soviet Union are currently engaged in a dangerous nuclear arms race. Since you profess to stand for “truth, justice, and the American way,” it might behoove you to take a few minutes to fly over to Russia and destroy their nuclear arsenal. It wouldn’t take you no more than a few minutes to accomplish this and it would result in a triumph for democracy and our way of life that would benefit future generations. Please consider this and try and get back to me as soon as you can.

Sincerely,
Dwight David Eisenhower
President of the United States
Washington, DC.

Dear Mr. President,

I received your message and the urgency of the situation was not lost on me. However, there has been a rash of Armored Car Robberies in Metropolis lately, and the gang that pulled off these capers has kidnapped Lois Lane. Therefore, I am afraid I cannot attend to your nuclear arms race thing anytime in the foreseeable future. Thank you for interest and please accept the enclosed eight-by-ten autographed picture of myself as a token of my esteem.

Yours Truly,
Superman
Care of the Daily Planet (But I’m not Clark Kent)
Metropolis, U.S.A.

Dear Superman,

Recently it has come to my attention that if you were so inclined, you could shoot a beam out of your eyes that could burn and destroy every single weapon in the world, and that it wouldn’t take you more than twenty minutes to do this. I don’t know if you are aware of the crusade for world peace that I have embarked upon but the destruction of every weapon in the world would go a long way towards making my goal of a completely non-violent world a reality. I hope you can find a half-hour somewhere in your schedule to help me with this cause.

Sincerely,
Mahatma Gandhi
New Delhi, India

Dear Mr. Gandhi,

I am a great supporter of all your good works, and I would love to be of some assistance to you, but unfortunately I already promised Inspector Henderson that I would help him smash a ring of jewel thieves that have made off with hundreds of dollars in stolen loot. So until I crack this case, and rescue Jimmy Olsen, who has been kidnapped by the gang, I will not be available for any activities that involve the bringing about of world peace. But I am a big fan of your work and I hope that one day we can work on a project together.

Yours Truly,
Superman

Dear Superman,

I am sure that you are aware that because of your x-ray vision, you have the ability to see into the innermost recesses of the human body, as well as all of nature and the entire universe as well. Thus, if you took just a few moments of your time, you could impart to us knowledge and insight that could very well result in the end of all human disease. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, the scientific community would greatly appreciate your participation in an endeavor that could very well bring mankind to the next evolutionary stage.

Sincerely,
Albert Schweitzer
Lambaréné, Gabon

Dear Dr. Schweitzer,

All I can say is: wow! It would be truly amazing to pull that off. But the thing is, I am currently on the trail of a crooked Wrestling Promoter who has been giving he city of Metropolis a bad name. And on top of that, the thugs who have been behind his crooked scheme have kidnapped both Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen. So I think you can understand why curing all human disease is not something I can focus on right now. But I totally support what you are doing and I’m going to get my good friend Clark Kent to write a paragraph about you in the Sunday Calendar Section of the Daily Planet. Thanks for keeping in touch and keep up the good work!

Yours Truly,
Superman