Joker, Batman, Riddler?

Why am I so angry?

My son told me it was because I wanted to be Batman, bringer of justice. Doesn’t seem quite right, but I can see what he is saying.

I know I should be more chill. Gotham is fine without my anger. I’m tiny weak and helpless. I have no Batmobile. Corruption doesn’t dissolve under my baleful gaze.

I could just think of my work as solving puzzles. The Riddler at work. Walk around with a big question red mark embroidered on my red suit.

Maybe I thought I’m the Joker, trying to belong, dreaming of a stage, disappointed by the city that is failing to reproduce anything like light truth or justice and turning into a nihilistic memester.

But none of these roles are quite right for me.

I’m no nihilist. I don’t think violence will stop violence. I keep thinking if I say the right words, we can be freed from the spell under which we live. So I hate the logical incoherence of meme design.

I want to tend my own garden. But I was taught by idealists of the last century that that wasn’t enough, that one should reach into the belly of the world and feel the hunger for something better.

I still believe in power giving truth that I find in reading great works of Left scholarships and analysis. Marx, for instance. I don’t understand much. I won’t starve to death any more.

I want to send my readers a message of hope.

I don’t like the DC Comic Universe. Let’s reject it because we don’t want to be nihilists, motivated by either revenge or simple curiosity At the same time, let’s try not to worship violence and power and black bodysuits.

Happy Holidays.