Some decades ago, George Pal was working up a film premise about the sudden separation of men and women into different spatial dimensions. (It perhaps was based on Philip Wylie's "The Disappearance", but I couldn't swear to it.) How it might have turned out is anybody's guess, as its visualization only got as far as some conceptual drawings. At that stage, there was to be no final reunion, and the movie would show the same-sex civilizations gradually but inexorably declining–a gender-issue "On the Beach", as it were. In any event, it stands as an intriguing cinematic might-have-been.

The beers brewed by our local brewpub are designed for the tourist trade, but even at that they beat the pants off the products of Coors, MIller, Budweiser and the rest of the swillers for flavor, body and, yes, value. The era of American-owned lager nationals may have passed, but the glory days of American brewing are with us now.

In the late 1970s, writer named Steve Englehart had the Joker arbitrarily push a henchman to his death in an issue of Detective Comics. (Englehart was most ably abetted in this by penciller Marshall Rogers–sadly no longer with us-and inker Terry Austin.) This was a shocking moment, reminding readers of the Batman comics books, after many years of comparatively benign Joker buffoonery, that this villain could actually be a true homicidal maniac.

In many ways, Englehart's Batman stories of this period were the true catalyst for what we saw on the screen in Tim Burton's Batman films and in "Batman Begins", as well as being pretty much part and parcel of what Frank Miller worked with to come up with his justly celebrated graphic novel "The Dark Knight Returns". While there were attempts to give Batman more of an edge in the early 1970s (including the invention of Ras Al Ghul), it was Englehart's version that really got readers to sit up and gasp, "Wow! You can actually do this? More, more, more!!!"

What I've found interesting is that "The Dark Knight" is the biggest (cited) first-weekend box office success in cinematic history, yet almost every comment connected to nearly every review, and even most reviews, never make even the slightest mention that Batman is a character in DC Comics. Marvel Comics, on the other hand, a company that does not and never has (with certain peculiar exceptions) had anything whatsoever to do with Batman, gets more mentions in these reviews and missives than I've had hot dinners.

And just to be perfectly clear, the much-cited Frank Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns" (I knew I'd heard that title somewhere before!) graphic novel was, and continues to be, published by DC Comics. Again, Marvel Comics had nothing to do with it. Whatsoever.

natesmith 124:

Dunno much about William Shatner's politics, but he's been doing a fine job of portraying a dyed-in-the-wool Republican buffoon on "Boston Legal" these past four years. Not sure how much that helps the neocon cause, but it smacks more of Stephen Colbert than Charlton Heston to me.

Obama didn't go nearly far enough. The Limbaugh crowd aren't merely ignorant, they're willfully, stubbornly ignorant. They truly believe their beliefs trump facts. And on the whole these folks will never, ever change. They can't. That's why the Limbaughs, while they're popularity may wax and wane, will never go away.

I, personally, have no particular interest in Manic Pixie Dream Girls, or the actresses who play them. Portman, Hudson, et al, are pleasant enough screen presences, but they have all the sex appeal of floor wax, and just don't seem to be up to the often necessary task of elevating their material. Not that even Kate Hepburn could always make more out of what she was given, but at least she never let what she was given get the better of her, as was Portman's sad fate in the Star Wars prequels.

Why can't things mean what they mean? Why can't abortion mean the termination of a pregnancy, and birth control mean the prevention of conception?

One definition of a politician is a character firm in the belief that a word and/or phrase means only what he or she want it to mean, no more and no less. This definition was established long, long ago, even before Lewis Carrol personified it, skewered the arrogance of it, and demonstrated the fragility of the egos that spawn it. Too bad these Humpty-Dumptys keep getting elected and appointed.

Also remember that the 60s was an era still steeped in the notion that only guys ran around and had adventures while the gals stayed home and tended to their knitting. (This notion has not quite had a stake driven all the way through its heart even as I write.) It was only as the decade advanced that this was challenged in any discernible way, but even a decade further on it was still a shock to see a woman as any kind of action hero (I speak, of course, of the immortal Ripley in "Alien").

Robert Conrad was also very proud of his physique and wanted it shown to its best advantage at every opportunity. I wouldn't be surprised if it was in Ross Martin's contract to display admiration for the manly manliness that Conrad so conspicuously paraded.

I have to agree, these myths are absurd. Of course, family connections incite a personal interest in what will result from test drillings up in North Dakota, but I'm not holding my breath that it will have any impact on the overall energy situation. In the Southwest, where I actually live, solar is king - or damn well ought to be!

I'm all for more bicycles, fewer automobiles, but I have to say that spending a few days watching rush hour traffic in Copenhagen is an object lesson in being careful what you wish for.