July 11, 2025

A Bird, a Plane, No--

Whew, boy. The everything sure is a lot, lately, innit? Sometimes, I pull cards, and the cards are like, “Baby, I know.” The vibe of the universe is interesting at this moment in time.

But I’m looking forward to seeing the new Superman film, although I haven’t set foot in a theater since The Before Times. I’ll probably just wait until I can rent it from the comfort of my own couch. I do love movie theater snacks, though, so we’ll see.

I loved Superman growing up. I chose him from the spinning rack at the local bodega-like store. (That thing had everything, and I miss it.) I was a devoted watcher of Superboy with Gerard Christopher. I have a letter, somewhere, where I’d written in and he responded with official show letterhead. Sometimes, I still write letters to people to tell them I like their work. I have a couple of regular friend penpals, too! It’s great. Getting real mail that isn’t bills is the shit. Even if my handwriting is awful. (I love getting mail, too, because someone took the time out of their day, ya know? And now I have a little keepsake.)

Anywhere, where was I? Superman. The fundamental truth of the character is that he has so much power, but his real power is his kindness. An immigrant story, yes. A refugee, too. His home planet blew up, and his parents made the impossible choice to send him off into space. He had quite the journey getting to earth. And whether he’s leaping buildings in a single bound or reporting the facts as Clark Kent, there is an inherent goodness to Superman.

When Christopher Reeve switches from Clark Kent to Superman posture, you believe it. There have been iterations since then, and there have been things they’ve gotten right. But from the colorful previews of this one, it feels like the vibe is correct. And that perhaps this is the movie we need right now to remind us that even with all the money in the world, billions ain’t shit.

That Lois Lane, dogged reporter, holds to her own convictions—and we should too. That, in our best moments, we are all of these things, ourselves. Defenders of truth. Seekers of what’s right. Kind and strong in the demonstrations of that kindness. Superman isn’t all muscles and brute strength. He’s soft—someone you could sit across from and chat with. With all his power, he’s not intimidating—he’s a beacon of hope.

He is also a reminder of what it means to be American—not how it’s been co-opted or corrupted or told at a slant. Not an us vs. them, but a we. And those who seek to divide us only divide themselves—because hatred like that is only rot. At some point, that rot is impossible to ignore.

The thing about villains, too, is that they always want to seem larger than they are. Like the Great and Powerful Oz is just a man. His magic is a parlor trick. And while real-world villains are seemingly running rampant, they are all small and small-hearted. Insecure and spineless.

Villains are never stronger than you or me, because they lack something vital: compassion. Caring about things is, indeed, a superpower. Because caring about things means you’re invested. And that is everything. Trust me.

If you get time, today, reach out to a friend and give them a sincere compliment. Talk to them about something they do well. Tell them about the art they make and what it means to you. Tell them how you value them and why. Because it’s easy to feel adrift sometimes, but when the ocean is wide, we are each other’s shore.

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