An editorial on Jim Shooter's "super power"
Jun 25, 2005 22:31:25 GMT -5
Post by toddluck on Jun 25, 2005 22:31:25 GMT -5
Here's a funny Jim Shooter editorial from early in the New Universe's run. I apologize for any typos I've missed. I ran it through a text scanning program that apparently didn't like small newsprint. Anyway, here's the editorial:
I have a super power. That is, I am a para-
normal—like the guys in D.P. 7. You see, I'm
extremely (unkind souls say frighteningly) tall. As a
result I have the ability to change lightbulbs in
ceiling fixtures in most homes without standing
on a chair. My power developed relatively
quickly during my teenage years.
Because of my obvious paranormality:
-People often stare at me on the street
and in public places. Some merely gawk.
Some point and laugh. Some are afraid
Strangers, especially women, have
balked at getting into elevators. If I am
the only other occupant. Occasionally.
people will cross the street to avoid me,
especially late at night when no one else is around.
-"Friendly" strangers who would never
ask you anything personal, feel that it's
okay to say, "Hey, fellah, now tall are
you, anyway?"
-Often, people try to exploit me. Many a
first visit to someone's apartment begins
with a request to replace some burned-out
bulbs in overhead fixtures.
-Twice I have been refused employment
specifically due to my size.
-I am unintentionally physically intimidat-
ing. A constant problem in my current
work, which involves dealing with sensi-
tive, artistic types.
-I eat more than normals. It costs more to feed myself.
-Acquiring clothing is an unending night-
mare. I have had nothing but bad expen-
ences with "Tall Men's Shops" and cus-
tom tailors—particularly one Maurice Sills.
Clothing that sort of fits me usually
costs three times what you'd pay.
-Sinks are too low. So are mirrors. Chairs.
Lawnmower handles. Everything.
-The world is full of low-hanging obsta-
cles which normals clear easily but I have
to duck under. Store awnings. Tree limbs.
Subway doors. I've whacked my head
enough times to make a thinner-skulled
person stupid.
And yet, there are benefits:
-Decades of towering over everyone has
given me a natural self-confidence.
-My sheer size has mitigated many other-
wise threatening situations.
-The natural strength that comes with my
size has proven useful in sports and in
many other ways every day. I can open
any pickle jar.
Despite my paranormality. I've never had
the least inclination to put on a funny costume
(where would I find one my size?) and patrol
the city looking for evildoers. Or burned-out
bulbs. My life has been plenty interesting with-
out that.
And just think—my paranormality Isn't
nearly as severe as the D.P. 7, or even basket-
ball star Manute Bol’s. Thank the stars it isn't as
terrible as that kid's who was born without an
immune system—the "bubble boy."
Yeah. life's not too bad—even though every
day in a thousand ways, I'm reminded that I'm
different.
Do I relate to D.P. 7?
Does a duck quack?
Jim Shooter
Editor in Chief
I have a super power. That is, I am a para-
normal—like the guys in D.P. 7. You see, I'm
extremely (unkind souls say frighteningly) tall. As a
result I have the ability to change lightbulbs in
ceiling fixtures in most homes without standing
on a chair. My power developed relatively
quickly during my teenage years.
Because of my obvious paranormality:
-People often stare at me on the street
and in public places. Some merely gawk.
Some point and laugh. Some are afraid
Strangers, especially women, have
balked at getting into elevators. If I am
the only other occupant. Occasionally.
people will cross the street to avoid me,
especially late at night when no one else is around.
-"Friendly" strangers who would never
ask you anything personal, feel that it's
okay to say, "Hey, fellah, now tall are
you, anyway?"
-Often, people try to exploit me. Many a
first visit to someone's apartment begins
with a request to replace some burned-out
bulbs in overhead fixtures.
-Twice I have been refused employment
specifically due to my size.
-I am unintentionally physically intimidat-
ing. A constant problem in my current
work, which involves dealing with sensi-
tive, artistic types.
-I eat more than normals. It costs more to feed myself.
-Acquiring clothing is an unending night-
mare. I have had nothing but bad expen-
ences with "Tall Men's Shops" and cus-
tom tailors—particularly one Maurice Sills.
Clothing that sort of fits me usually
costs three times what you'd pay.
-Sinks are too low. So are mirrors. Chairs.
Lawnmower handles. Everything.
-The world is full of low-hanging obsta-
cles which normals clear easily but I have
to duck under. Store awnings. Tree limbs.
Subway doors. I've whacked my head
enough times to make a thinner-skulled
person stupid.
And yet, there are benefits:
-Decades of towering over everyone has
given me a natural self-confidence.
-My sheer size has mitigated many other-
wise threatening situations.
-The natural strength that comes with my
size has proven useful in sports and in
many other ways every day. I can open
any pickle jar.
Despite my paranormality. I've never had
the least inclination to put on a funny costume
(where would I find one my size?) and patrol
the city looking for evildoers. Or burned-out
bulbs. My life has been plenty interesting with-
out that.
And just think—my paranormality Isn't
nearly as severe as the D.P. 7, or even basket-
ball star Manute Bol’s. Thank the stars it isn't as
terrible as that kid's who was born without an
immune system—the "bubble boy."
Yeah. life's not too bad—even though every
day in a thousand ways, I'm reminded that I'm
different.
Do I relate to D.P. 7?
Does a duck quack?
Jim Shooter
Editor in Chief
