I'm no Moon Knight

In Moon Knight #35 from 1984, Moon Knight fights the Fly. He loses ... badly, and winds up in a wheelchair.

While in the chair, one of his alter egos sponsors ballet performances, which brings him into contact with a crazy mutant who is killing members of the troupe. She kills the male lead while Moon Knight as Steven Grant is watching.

When the baddie enters, MK as SG says to his girlfriend something like "You cover me, Marlene, and I'll ... " Then he remembers he is in a chair and says "... sit here helpless."*

I was thinking about this awesome comic on my trike ride today because at the beginning of the ride I too got to sit helpless and watch a little girl lose control of her scooter and crash.

It was where the bike trail splits near Broad Street. She was on the bridge trail. I was on the lower trail just turning around.

No one else saw her and I was trying to figure out how to turn around and get to her. And then what I had no idea. Fortunately, the mom came into view then, and it turned out to be someone I know.

The girl was OK, so I guess it turned out all right except that feeling of helplessness that doesn't go away. If I were Moon Knight, I could will myself out of my chair (a scene that still gives me shivers even though it doesn't work that way for normal people, just avatars of Egyptian god Khonshu. Hmmm, maybe I need to change religions)


* I paraphrased the comic because while I could find it in five minutes if the comic boxes were accessible, no one else could. It's in the comics I reread a lot box along with the reboots of Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Daredevil, etc.

What a waste

My current comic book store is a little odd. They are the only shop I have been to that puts aside for you just the comics you subscribe to.

This may sound like a good thing, but other shops will say, "Matt reads Green Lantern; he probably will want this Flash book with Green Arrow in it." Or "Matt reads Avengers comics; I bet he'd like this spinoff." I liked it because the extra books were good reads; it pays off for the store because they aren't giving me these extras for free. I did not have to take them but if I did I had to buy them.

But not my current store. Only what I order. I suspect they order very few comics beyond what are ordered so they don't have extras to tempt folks with.

When I saw my latest purchases, I was reminded of this policy and kind of annoyed. I got Amazing Spider-Man 700, the last Amazing issue but not the first issue of the next series.

My annoyance quickly disappeared, though, thanks to bad art (or at least a style I hate) and the stupidest plot twist I have ever read, and that includes the Spider-Man where he made a deal with the devil so no one knew he was Spidey and MJ and he weren't married.

I feel pretty OK saying what the twist was because the issue came out in December, but just in case: SPOILER ALERT







They kill off Peter Parker. I saw a headline about it in December. I ignored it, thinking it couldn't be really true. But yes. Doc Ock, who was dying, managed to swap brains with Peter. And there was no swap-back. Doc Ock, with Peter's mind, died. Peter, with Doc Ock's mind, lived. The new Peter has all the old Peter's memories and his feelings. But am I really supposed to read the Adventures of Doc Ock?

So stupid.

Christmas is a-coming

Without a totally irresponsible but totally awesome action figure shopping spree, this will be the first year in many that I have fewer figures now than I did at the beginning of the year. Not only that, but I think this year may go down in Matt Trott history as the first year in many I have not added any figures to my collection. (Not really, I'll buy something between Christmas and New Year's if need be.)

I am still able to set up a Nativity, though I know there are a few repeats. Mom, my photographer, saved me from a humiliating faux-paus earlier when she saw Plastic Man and said, Wasn't he in last year's? I looked and was horrified to see Plas and Beast were duplicates. I quickly removed them.

The  Big Three are there, though without their Peanuts understudies. Charlie Brown, Lucy and Woodstock are going to work to help me win the festive door/office contest.

Yes, that is Speed Racer and his Mach 5 ready to spirit Jesus away to Egypt and out of the way of Herod. Spritle and Chim-Chim are in the trunk of the Mach 5 to facilitate the Jesus transfer. They also have a picnic basket in case anyone gets hungry. And let's face it: Everything is better with a monkey.

If they decide not to flee toEgypt, Batman will ward off any of Herod's soldiers. I'm not saying he could beat the whole army, but ... This figure also makes me think of a lounge singer, like he is holding a mike and just belting out a tune. So, lullabies are taken care of.

The Humble-Bumble and Yukon Cornelius are not new figures -- my older sister gave them to me years ago -- but this is the first year out of the box. My niece has a nice but totally unsupported  theory on the Bumble. She said he was just mean because he had a toothache and once Hermey pulled his teeth, he was good. A lovely idea, but I believe the Bumble was a bully a la Buddy Hinton. And when he is defanged, like Buddy, he becomes OK.

Santa is another regular but he doesn't quite merit Big Three status.

The Canadian Mountie would help Batman.

The Rocketeer is one of my favorite superheroes, not just because Jennifer Connelly is his girlfriend. And who better to serve as an angel and to go tell it on the mountain.

The Spirit was created by Will Eisner and he wrote wonderful stories. There was a story called like "What's 15 minutes in a man's life?" and it has a clock in each panel. This guy robs his employer, kills him by mistake, flees, sees the Spirit (the Spirit's only appearance), panics and gets killed running away even though the Spirit did not know he did anything. It is way cool.

Mom claims that Baby Jesus would be scared by my Gorilla Grodd knockoff. But the animals in the manger wer super-intelligent animals like Grodd if stories can be believed. Maybe they weren't super-villains like Grodd.

Last but not least is a little wind-up robot, who is in charge of teaching the Lord to dance.

Here are the ones from 2007,  2008, 2009, 2010 and 2011. These posts also have some background. And God must be amused by this because I have not been struck down yet.

Welcome back, Daredevil

I ended my ban on Marvel comics today.

I've read good things about Daredevil. I stopped my subscription after they had Daredevil take over the Hand, become a super-villain, die and be brought back to life. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I have no idea what is going on with Spider-Man. I stopped reading him after he manipulated a photo. I know that Marvel let a writer kill off Peter Parker in one series. Writers -- afraid to make up something wholly new so they try to remake something with their own signature.

Christmas for superheroes

It's Christmas time, and I finally have my own toys again! Well, some of them. Others, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and First Appearance Batman remain hidden in a big box I still need to unpack. I have plenty to fill out Matty's Nativity.

The Big Three are back, in original wooden form. This year, though, they are backed up by the Charlie Brown folks. Should Jesus, Mary or Joseph prove unable or unwilling to perform any required duties, Woodstock, Lucy or Charlie Brown are authorized to step in.

On the far left is Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Michelangelo. I figured Michelangelo needed a chance to paint the nativity, less depressing than the Pieta.

Next is Space Ghost from talk show Space Ghost Coast to Coast. who will help provide needed publicity for the savior. As Judas tells Jesus in Jesus Christ Superstar, "If you'd come today, you could have reached the whole nation. Israel in 4 B.C. had no mass communication." Space Ghost answers that need.

Next is Green Lantern who will be the heavenly host. This particular Green Lantern came from a friend who reminded recently me of important things. Green Lantern will easily portray angels, and his oath gives me goosebumps: "In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight; let those who worship evil's might, beware my power... Green Lantern's light!" I like the box, so I did not take him out. It has nothing to do with keeping in Mint Packaging.

Green Arrow is a fast friend of Green Lantern's so he is visiting the nativity, too. He could be a shepherd, I suppose: They both probably used bows. Mainly though, he is around for protection.

We know, thanks to Stargate and other shows, that aliens visited Egypt and built the Pyramids. I don't know if they stopped in Rome and Judea later. I, for one, am taking no chances. Luke Skywalker is there, manning the anti-aircraft weapons.

Plastic Man, in the rear, is mainly there for comic relief. Things get too tense, he can stretch his face into an amusing appearance and make folks laugh.

Wolverine and Beast, just behind Charlie Brown, can be just about all the animals in the stable, especially Beast who changes from monkey-like to feline to other, depending on the artist.

Between them, you can see the front of Professor X's wheelchair and an arm in his trademark blue suit. If Jesus turns out to be a mutant, Prof. X can help mentor him.

Finally, Superman makes his first appearance in my nativity. I just started this year to warm up to Big Blue. He is mainly here, though, in case Lex Luthor time travels back to wipe out Christmas. He can also make the Flight into Egypt a real flight.

Here are the ones from 2007,  2008, 2009 and 2010. These posts also have some background. And God must be amused by this because I have not been struck down yet.

Mr. Matt Fantastic

A few years ago, a friend ad I discussed which superpower we wanted. After discarding the basics: flight, invisibility, strength, etc., we both decided on healing. I was even OK with just being able to heal others. I think it would be more interesting. We differed because she would heal people and they would not know it was hurt and I would shout it from the rooftops.

Before and after that, I have considered just about every power known to comic book writers. They would all be cool, and some, like Wolverine's invulnerability, Green Lantern's power ring or Spidey's ability to walk on walls, would be totally awesome.

Until this morning, though, I had never considered how handy it would be to be able to stretch like Mr. Fantastic, Plastic Man, Elongated Man and the like.

Nothing bad happened. I just reached for a grab bar and was like an inch short so I had to move to grab it. I did and transferred fine. No falling.

But I now want to be Mr. Fantastic, well, a stretchable Mr. Fantastic. I already am fantastic.

Reboot in the spring

I am entering week 3 of not having a comic book subscription.

I dropped my subscriptions at one store because it was getting too hard to get out there regularly. I planned on starting the subscriptions up at a store in Falls Church, but I haven't.

It isn't that I am bored by comics, although when I do restart my subscriptions, Daredevil won't be there. The Shadowland stories were just lame.

How many times can I blame cold and dark for keeping me inactive?

It's a Very DC (Comics) Christmas

I expected to have access to all my figures this Christmas, but the house is not done yet. Fortunately, I have made a few purchases on eBay this year so I am able to fill nativity with new figures of my own. I did not have to raid my niece's or nephew's toys. I consider this a source of pride. I realize some might consider it a sign of dorkiness. They are, of course, wrong.

This year I bought entirely DC figures. I am liking DC more these days and I have few figures, or I did at the start of the year. Now I have a few, including:

• The Angels on the top tier, announcing the good news to all and keeping a watchful eye out for Dr. Sivana or Onimar Synn. The white guy in the front left actually is an angel:  Zauriel, a guardian angel of the Eagle host, has protected the souls of countless women, including Cleopatra, Mona Lisa and Joan of Arc. Now we can add the mother of God. Next is Hawkman, likely familiar to any viewer of the Superfriends. You know he is just waiting for evildoers to show up so he can beat the holy heck out of them. Continuing clockwise are two guys I know little about but look cool and stand up without the need for the purple playdoh that Zauriel has on his feet. Orion and Mr. Miracle are part of the New Gods. Finally, there is Captain Marvel. I always liked him because he was friends with a talking tiger.

• On the middle shelf are the Big 3, played by Charlie Brown, Lucy and Woodstock. Next to them are the shepherds. Wonder Woman is the only gal this year. I had another, but Huntress kept falling over even with playdoh. Green Lantern Kyle Rayner is to Wonder Woman's left. He was a struggling artist before becoming Green Lantern, so perhaps he could draw the scene. If you could zoom in on his face, you would know, though, that he ain't drawing nothing. He is just daring Herod to show up. My brother-in-law and I were considering who'd win in a fight: Green Lantern or Thor. We meant GL Hal Jordan and my money is on him. Kyle is no slouch either.  With his back mostly to the camera is Aquaman, who swam in from Mediterranean Sea via the Dead Sea. He has his trademark orange shirt back now if anyone cares.

• Finally, on the far left shelf: the three Wise Men. The cool thing about these guys: They don't have to leave right when they see a star. They can have dinner, dessert, coffee, and then take off. That's what happens when you are Golden Age Flash, the modern Flash and Superman. I highly recommend the Flash-Superman races.

Here are the ones from 2007,  2008 and 2009. These posts also have some background. And God must be amused by this because I have not been struck down yet.

Where is that fountain of youth?

I have been reading the month's comic books, and while I haven't got to the best – Echo, Green Lantern – I have been a little disappointed.

And earlier today, a woman got in the elevator and said to me: You're too young to have all that gray hair.

Am I getting old?

I also got a new intern today who is a senior in college, and looks like a kid.

Dang, dang, dang.

I know I am aging. The devil isn't interested in buying my soul, so it is to be expected, I guess.

At swimming I see parents with adult children who are disabled and are older than Mom and Dad, and I don't want to be like that. I know I am already, but as long as I read comics and watch cartoons and wear my hair short enough to hide the gray, I can fool myself.

Who wants to be a tether to people you love even if they don't mind?

Do you feel lucky, Matt? Hell no!

When I was younger, I used to read Gram's copy of the Smithsonian Book of Comic-Book Comics. It was full of awesome early comics. I am not sure where it is now – it was not in her house when she died -- but I was thinking about it today.

One of the stories teamed up Plastic Man with Woozy Winks, who I remember as the luckiest man alive. I have just learned, however, that was temporary. He was usually a bumbling oaf providing comic relief, to which I say: “Plastic Man needs comic relief? He is a jokey character.”

I was thinking of Woozy and wondering what it is like to be lucky.

Today, I went to LensCrafters to pick up some sunglasses that I had ordered weeks ago. I was a little nervous because I was planning to ask for a discount because the glasses were late.

We went even though my lower back felt ready to explode because I sneezed oddly or strained it in any of a half-dozen ways.

The best handicapped parking spots were taken by wussy sedans. Grrr. But I was on Cloud 9 in the store because I asked for a discount and he gave me one. It was pretty modest, but I did it. Yeah, me.

Then I went out to the car with Mom and showed her my glasses ... or tried to. A lens popped out right there.

I was running late to work so Mom said she'd drop me off, then go back. Of course, the check-engine light in the van came on.

It turned out OK. Mom defied the check-engine light, went back and eventually got the lens fixed. And before anyone says anything, I know I am lucky to have Mom.

But I just wonder what it would feel like to be Woozy and not have these kind of things happen.

I guess Woozy wouldn't need glasses, though.

No more Spidey

One day soon -- this weekend probably -- I will read my final Spider-Man comic book ... at least for a while.

One of the first comics I remember owning is Amazing Spider-Man 185 from October 1978. In it, Peter Parker does not graduate from college because of an incomplete in phys-ed.

I wish I could say I have all the issues since -- that would be so awesome -- but no. I do have a lot of Spidey comics, but nowhere near that many.

I love Spidey, especially his willingness to shoulder responsibility -- with great power comes great responsibility and all that.

Because of this love, I overlooked a lot. I went along when Marvel unmasked him,, survived the Iron Spider outfit and even kept reading after he made a deal with the devil, trading away his love with MJ so everyone would forget his identity and Aunt May would survive a gunshot wound.

I stuck with Spidey when Marvel accelerated his publishing schedule, so instead of $3 a month, it costs more like $9.

Marvel and the writers apparently get responsibility when it comes to Spidey, just not when it comes to the real world. In the issue that came out last week, Peter manipulates a photo for the newspaper.

It is a cheap shot at an industry that is hurting ... and it is my industry. Mostly, it is so stupid. Peter has been a journalist since high school. No journalist would consider photo manipulation. It is no different from writing a lie.

And I will put up with no more.

Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh and lots of super pals

Oh, yes, True Believers, it is time for Matt's Nativity.



A little background: When I lived in North Carolina, Mom sent me some Christmas stuff for my first Christmas away from home, It had decorations and a box that said "Gram thinks you should have one of these." In it was a real simple nativity, wood carvings of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I am not sure I started that year, but I realized I had plenty of action figures to fill out the nativity. The first time, I think my various toys were assigned parts, like my Borg foot soldier was one of the three kings. Now, though, the toys themselves are the visitors to the manger, and one of my favorite parts of Christmas is setting up the nativity and telling everyone why.

Here are the ones from 2007 and 2008.

This is a unique edition in several ways. First, Jesus. Mary and Joseph are portrayed by Woodstock, Lucy and Charlie Brown instead of an actual creche representation. Charlie Brown and pals were my Christmas present from my little sister. They are pretty awesome, though, Lucy's headdress is a little wacky. The Peanuts folks are about the only action figures I got this year. I got a DC Crisis three-pack for my birthday, but it isn't opened. Not that I want to keep it well-preserved; I just do not have anywhere to put the figures. All the visitors to the manger are from my niece and nephew. This is another reason moving in with them will be awesome when the house is done next year: They have great toys!

But enough above that; let's see who went to Bethlehem this year and why:

From left to right, after Charlie Brown, Woodstock and Lucy comes X-Man Jean Grey, who is actually my sister's. I know this because I gave it to her for her wedding. It was part of a Marvel Famous Couples two-pack with Cyclops. With that lustrous red hair, Jean Grey is clearly a modern-day representation of Mary Magdalene, who normally does not appear in the birth narratives. Jean Grey has also died and returned from the dead more than I remember so clearly she will be good for Jesus to hang around with.

Animated series Batman represents Job, a man who suffered mightily but didn't curse God. Batman's parents are killed in front of him, he dedicates his life to fighting crime and what does he get? That goofy '60s TV show. Incidentally, I have written about it before but I have always disliked the end of the Job story; God asks Job things like this: "Have you an arm like that of God, or can you thunder with a voice like his?" And Job backs down. I believe Job is right. Question away!

Sampson was strong because he always had hair. He was also a real dope about women. Delilah kept asking him how he could be bound. He'd tell her some lie. She'd do it and call the Philistines to get Sampson. Then after he kicked some Philistine tail, Delialah'd cal him a jerk and ask again. Three times, this happened. Then he told her it was the hair. Yeesh! She better have been hot. Hopefully, Juggernaut, the next figure, is not as dopey. With his helmet, which is missing, he is almost invulnerable. But without it, half-brother Charles Xavier an zap him with a little mind slap and put him down.

Hulk is just there to smash, let's be honest. Herod's soldiers are in deep.

Hulk's cute cousin She-Hulk is sitting next to him. (C'mon, there is nothing wrong with being green!) She-Hulk is also a lawyer. That would make like a scribe or something back then, but we know she was not a jerk like most of them. She is there to provide the required birth certificate so if people question whether Jesus was real, or whether he was born in Bethlehem or a terrorist training camp in Kenya, She-Hulk's paperwork will settle the issue.

Finally, looming over everyone is Iron Man. The button on his breastplate causes him to speak and his hand to light up as he shoots off repulsor blasts. Unfortunately, I could not get this in the photo. Iron Man's alter ego is a womanizing drinker, and at first blush he does not seem like a good fit for the Nativity. But he clearly recalls Biff, Christ's childhood pal, who Christopher Moore wrote about so well. I was sure I had written about my love of this book but I guess not. Suffice it to say, I think Heaven will be much better a place with people like Chris Moore and Biff, and I would not want to deny Jesus a good pal so Iron Man (I-run Man, according to my niece) is there.

That's it. A small crew this year. Next year, I'll be in a new house with all my figure back and they are all coming!

What would Superman do?

I think I need to start reading more Superman.

I am not a fan. I remember being put off when I was a little kid by one comic in particular. In it another Kryptonian infected Lois Lane with an incurable disease and she got these huge purple splotches all over. It was nasty. The last panel showed Lois on the ground with the splotches everywhere, but her legs for some reason. Clark Kent sits next to her, head in hands saying "My God! The woman I love is dying ... and I've just killed the only man in the universe who can save her!!"

Lois with splotches was bad enough, but what a wuss. I mean Spidey may wallow in pity but not when his gal is dying. Superman could always fly around the world and reverse the rotation of the Earth, thus making time go backward.

That is one reason I dislike Superman: He is too powerful. He survives nuclear bombs, deep space, you name it. I know he didn't start out that way and various writers have put limits on his powers but he is pretty much invincible. What doe he have to worry about?

We also all know that Superman is a dick.

But he gets his power from the yellow sun of Earth, as opposed to Krypton's red sun.

As the sun starts setting earlier and with gloomier weather settling in, I sometimes feel like the sun gives me power, too.

I want to know how Superman survives at night or in the winter. Doe he store up the sun's energy? Does he fly to the other side of the world for a few hours every day?

I am sure that is explained in the comics and it might be information I can use.

For the record, I didn't remember all those details. Mom dug the book up for me, but I knew where it was: Superman 311 from 1977 "The Curse of the Antibiotic Man."

What if ...

I got a bulk e-mail the other day from the DJO Class of 1989 rep telling me enthusiastically that my 20th reunion is coming up and that I should come.

That is how I knew it was a bulk e-mail. I knew who the rep was, but I am sure she doesn't know me. We never said a word to each other.

I am sure no one in my class realizes I would pretty much rather die than go to a reunion or relive the torture that was my high school years.

It wasn't just that I wasn't invited to parties. I didn't even know about the parties.

A friend of mine told me that even popular kids look back on high school with horror. I humored her by agreeing with her, but I hope few people experienced what I did. I wasn't bullied; I was just invisible, and I can think of no time with more regrets about my life.

I thought I liked What if ... comics because they often had kooky premises ... What if Iron Man was trapped in the time of King Arthur? But maybe I was thinking about all the What ifs that still haunt me 20 years later.

Probably somewhere among all my papers is a compatibility list that the Key Club or some group sold. I was thrilled that the girl of my dreams was ranked first. As I recall, it was a low score, like 50%, but who cares? Of course that just became another What if.

And of course, the biggest one: What if I had known that I was disabled, not just a scrawny, uncoordinated child?

I act like that would have imbued me with self-confidence. Not that it has yet.

I doubt it would have changed a thing really. But I look back on high school with such regret that I grasp at anything to excuse my unhappiness.

I want to do whatever a spider can

After some heavy thinking, I have decided that I need to be bitten by a radioactive spider like Spider-Man.

A lot of other super-powers would just be no help at all for someone with Friedreich's ataxia.

Superman's strength and flying? I could probably handle the flying because once I got in the air I would not have a lot of obstacles around, but landing would be bad as I would touch down and just kind of crumple without my chair. The strength would not keep my muscles from spazzing out; it would just mean that when I accidentally kick my nephew in the face I would face a lot of dental bills.

Daredevil, my favorite superhero, had all his senses enhanced. I am not sure if enhanced balance would do much more than bring me up to clumsy. Plus, he can feel everything more, so when I fall, I'd hurt for weeks, not just days.

I am not sure what Wolverine's healing factor would do with a screwed up gene, but that might be useful. Unless it doesn't cure the FA because it sees that as just another mutation and it just does not ever let me die.

An Iron Man suit of armor would work, but who wants to live in an iron shell for all their life?

The magic of Dr. Strange or Zatanna might help, but Dr. Strange has never cured himself of injuries that ended his promising surgery career. I suspect you can't do magic on yourself.

While my eyes do work, so I don't see any reason I could not be Cyclops. It would not help me and it would be trouble to have lasers shooting out of my eyes.

Spider-Man's powers, now those would be beneficial.

If I had the ability to stick to walls, surely my feet could stick to floors when I try to get up, instead of sliding out from under me as they do now.

I would bounce back from injuries quickly.

I often wake up now and imagine shooting webs onto the wall in front of me to help sit up.

The webs would have also helped this afternoon when Claren pooped in a front yard that was just far enough out of reach that I thought I could grab it if I just undid my seatbelt and edged a little farther out ...

I was able to grab it no problem from my new seat on the curb. I did not even need spider sense to know that undoing the seatbelt was a really bad idea.

Who am I?

Finding a wheelchair-using hero is a a even tougher than finding a non-redhead superheroine.

There is Prof. X, who is quite cool, but he is bald and can read minds. That is so not me.

Beneath my cynical shell beats a naïve little dude. An example: My second day in North Carolina for my first real job, this guy comes up to me in the store while I was buying batteries and says: Hey, I saw you moving in today.

I remember thinking that I moved in yesterday but instead I say hi. He then asks me to help him as his car has a flat and says he'll pay me back as we are neighbors. I reply: Sure, it's a good thing you caught me now because I just went to the bank.

I drive him to a gas station where he buys with my $40 cigarettes and a tire "they are holding for him."

Then he asks me to take him to the home of a guy who will switch the tires. He then asks for my last $10 to pay the friend putting on the tire and a ride to another house.

In my defense, by this time I knew I was being scammed but was not sure how to end it. But he did not want anything else so I left.


There is also Oracle, the tough-as-nails hacker/computer junkie, who is Batman's eyes and ears. Oracle unfortunately is a girl, Batgirl actually.

I called the police and they came out but the guy did not do anything illegal.

I have one other wheelchair superhero, he's not a comic-book hero, but was in a short-lived Fox TV series: M.A.N.T.I.S. in which Carl Lumbly played a paralyzed doctor who donned an exo-skelton called the Mechanically Augmented Neuro-transmitter Interactive System that allowed him to kick bad-guy ass.

A plus, Carl Lumby has done voices on superhero cartoons, and was in Taxi and tons more. He rocks.

Oh Holey night (for any bad guys)

In what can only be called a stunning PR gambit of galactic proportions, Darth Vader and the Empire have donated an AT-AT Walker to watch over the nativity this year. By helping defend against Herod's slaughter of the innocents, perhaps the Empire is hoping to put a kinder face on Darth Vader, who had his own slaughter-of-the-innocents issue with the little Jedi.

This is the fourth year of Matt's nativity, I believe, when toys fill in for the Nativity figures I don't have, which is everyone but the Big Three. (Here is last year's.) This year, though, most of my toys are in storage awaiting the new home next Christmas. So this year there'll be no Borg or Buffy, no Superman or Spirit. The AT-AT was too big to store easily. For various reasons a few other toys are at Mom and Dad's to choose from so without further ado, here is my nativity:

Obviously, there is the AT-AT, which provides firepower as well as shelter if it turns rainy. Joseph will probably need to keep an eye on it, though, to make sure it doesn't turn bad. If it does, it should not be too hard to trip. Those things are really cool-looking but look wobblier than I ... almost.

The Big Three are obvious but new to my nativity since mine is also in storage. I realize they are a little big and perhaps render the whole thing a little unlikely. I mean Joseph is almost as tall as the AT-AT, so I apologize for asking you to suspend your idea of reality.

Starting from the far right, there is Strongheart the Paladin and his trusty but wingless bronze dragon, among the last characters to avoid storage. We needed to glue the dragon's paw so he came to Mom and Dad's. My only fear hear is if the dragon eats some of the farm animals. Bronze dragons are, as everyone knows, lawful good, but they are carnivores. And a dragon dinner would cast a pall over things. "Hey, baby Jesus, nice swaddling clothes; don't mind the dead cow. Bronzey got hungry."

Professor X, in front, is almost a staple in my nativity, being the coolest guy in a wheelchair (sorry, Stephen Hawking but he is played by Patrick Stewart). I figure if some shepherd starts belly-aching because he had too much mead and wants to see some miracles, Prof. X can mind-smack him. The tiny version is the only one I kept out for the time at Mom and Dad's.

One of the few new-to-me toys is Iron Man, who came to me when a friend was getting rid of things. If the shepherds are too much trouble for Prof. X, he'll do some mind-smacking of his own ... with a repulsor blast or two.

The Penguin, also new to me, is there in case of rain. He has the umbrella anyway. Mom questioned his place in the nativity because he is so mean-looking. There is that, but he is obviously symbolic that the kingdom of God is open to all, even sinners. i guess the symbolism would work better if I had a prostitute action figure. HINT HINT.

The Shogun Warrior will shoot of his fist at the sign of any trouble. It might not be the most effective offensive tactic, but I doubt Herod, muggers or wise guys will stand a chance this year.

Better than nothing, I guess

I a m not sure it is worth losing a friend to NYC, but I came home today with books and comics and graphic novels.

My friend who is relocating cleaned out her desk and invited me over to take whatever looked good.

I went over once and she wasn't there so I didn't take anything. That would have felt weird.

But she told me to come back and she went through her boxes hunting for stuff I'd like. That was pretty awesome. She seemed quite delighted to find some thing, and I look forward to giving them a read. She is less into superheroes than I am, but her recommendations are rarely boring.

I kept the Iron Man figure by my computer at work, along with the handy but very girly case to hold all his accessories.

I am a wimp, but not a hypocritical son of a bitch or an ascetic

That headline is really the only way I can figure to unite three unrelated tales.

The wimp

I have wanted to go to SPX for years, this year in particular because I wanted to meet a writer. Not a huge deal but it has been in the back of my mind. I had told a friend months ago that I'd be asking her for a ride.

But I went to the comic book store last week and realized that SPX is nearly upon me. It is tomorrow.

I went to talk to my friend about a ride on Tuesday, but she was not there, then I got bogged down at work. I was getting worried, too: What if she stays longer than I want? What if I can't fit Claren in her car?

On Thursday, my boss was going out of town and he asked me if I could be on call if anything happened over the weekend. I thought of SPX, but heard myself saying, sure, I'll be around all weekend. I think I was looking for a reason not to go.

But not a hypocritical son of a bitch

I don't use those disposable toilet seat covers.

I am not opposed to them, but they'd need to come with sticky tape to stay on when I sat down. And then there's the whole careful placement of them. I know it would only be a matter of time before my hand slipped when putting the cover on and I was suddenly up to my elbow in toilet water.

I also don't think they are that worthwhile in normal restrooms anyway. Filthy ones, OK; my office restroom, I doubt they're needed. But whatever. If they make someone feel a bit safer, then awesome.

Less than awesome, though, is going into a stall and finding a seat cover still on the toilet. I have to push it into the toilet myself and the thought of touching someone's toilet seat cover grosses me out more than touching the toilet.

Also, it is so freaking hypocritical. "I am too hygienic too touch the toilet, but I will make you touch my toilet seat cover." Thanks, jackass.

Nor an ascetic

For the staff that works later in the day, Doughnut Thursday is Cookie Thursday. The office manager puts out a bunch of real cookies on a filing cabinet.

I have never had any of the cookies. Maybe that is fair, as I have a doughnut. It's not because I never want one.

The real reason: The cookies are at head level, and they are too hard to reach.

I am definitely too cool to be forgotten

I just finished Too Cool to Be Forgotten by Alex Robinson. A friend of mine raved about the graphic novel in her blog and then she offered to let me read it.

"It follows a middle-aged guy who's accidentally transported back to his high school in 1985" and what he does there, she wrote. She left out the surprise ending in her review. No spoilers from her (There will be spoilers here). It might have been good to know the basic premise, though, before I started reading the book. The ending turned an easy Saturday read in something tense and nearly-tear-filled. For her own good she should have warned me. Does she want tear-stained pages?

Throughout the book, there are vague references to trouble at home and with his dad. Then there is this sentence as the last chapter starts: "i always remembered my dad as being sort of klutzy ..." Oh, crap.

In my friend's defense, most people don't know why I use a chair, and I guess I can look as it as kind of cool that she thought nothing of giving me a book that contains sentiments like the above or this: "It's a horrible, horrible disease for many reasons, but one of the cruelest is that usually, your mind, is unaffected. It's your body which gives out ... betrays you..."

No, the dad does not have Friedreich's ataxia; he has ALS. He dies on July 29, my birthday. The time travel allows the son to say a proper goodbye and tell his dad how angry he is at him for dying. It is good, just took a little more out of me than I expected.

Now, I have to figure out what to tell my friend on Monday.