It’s the new theory J and I came up with after I almost dropped an entire pie on the floor in anger.

And it was cherry.  Three pounds of hand-pitted cherries in a from-scratch crust.  I can’t even tell you how much that would have sucked.

I’d like to begin by saying that I’m still going to be giving DC a chance in September; they’ve pulled shit like this before.  It could be grand.  I’m going to retain a tiny grain of optimism and hope this is more like Zero Hour and less like Crisis.

What bothers me most is the dismissive way they’re coming across.  Whether they realize it or not, people look up to them as creators and maintainers of a legacy that spans generations.

It reminds me of Kon—back when he was still Kid—and his agent, Rex.  Rex was a certified ass and in order to talk to SB, you had to go through Rex.  That’s what the people in charge of DC feel like right now.

I want to talk to Superman and Batman, but I can’t do it unless I go through Morrison and Didio.  And they’re not the most approachable, especially when every other public comment feels like it’s made to marginalize me as a diverse human being.

Maybe they have great plans for this new lineup that they simply can’t reveal.  But everything they are revealing is just so fucking out there that as thinking, breathing, adoring fans, we have a problem with it.  I almost wish they had just done it and not told anyone so we could be surprised—maybe pleasantly—instead of feeling betrayed.

J seems to think that they’ve got something big under wraps.  As a once-Marvel reader, he brings a perspective to this whole fiasco that I can’t; I’m too close to it.  I know that.  I can be bitchy when I put my rage boots on, and I don’t necessarily like that about myself.  So J’s viewpoint was a nice switch for me.

He thinks Lois’ boyfriend is some kind of reality-altering villain that’s fucking with the world/earth/universe.  The most extreme change happened to Lois and Clark—they’ve been the iconic DC poster-couple for decades.  That’s a hell of an overhaul.  So what if his ability is to bring out the worst of your inner self—like Kon going bad.  Maybe it’s the Lex Luthor side of him shining through, or something.  Everyone’s story would be both real and bogus at the same time.  And discovering this would be the culmination of the entire affair as well as a valid way for DC to right what they’re putting wrong if everyone hates it.

I’m going to run with that.  Because the other alternative is this—

Dc’s new boys club has officially opened the first Canon Fanfic Writer’s Guild.  Look at their staff; look at their choices.  Look at the weird shit they’ve put on the table.  It’s like a massive fanfic in progress that gets updated once a month.

And it’s available online.

Until the dust settles, I refrain from casting judgment.   But I’m still pissed at the public representation of an institution that I’ve loved and respected since I was a child.

That’s really what hurts.  If they’d just get their feet out of their mouths and let everything fall where it will, I’d be much happier.  I don’t enjoy being indignant and angry; it makes me defensive.  Being a gay man, it’s almost a survival skill.

God, DC, just…please.   Stop making me feel like I need to go diva all over your ass.  Thank you.

…and if J’s idea isn’t the way shit goes down, I’ve got dibs on it for Earth 81. ;)