Wolverine Vs. _________

As always, we (by which I mean me, so why the hell did I write "we"?) here at COC are dedicated to trying new things. Last post's threesome, a battle in Socratic dialogue, lame setups that aren't funny at all... Yes, all of these cheap ploys have been essayed. Today's cheap ploy is another novelty. Instead of a pitched battle of two specific champions, we will examine a series of brief encounters, all starring everyone's favorite mutant, Wolverine. The feral furry fellow will fight a variety of opponents picked out using my very own Super Secret Random Hero Generator (tm). What? No, you can't see it.

So why Wolverine? Because --- and this blog's three faithful readers will begin to sense a pattern here --- COC is all about rectifying fanboy adulation gone awry. You see, as created, Wolverine is not a truly formidable being, relative to some of the truly souped-up denizens of the Marvel Universe. His stats reveal a character who is only slightly more powerful than a human: for example, he can lift only 800 pounds. So why, then is he always going toe-to-toe with guys who should be, by all rights, wayyyy out of his league? No, not because he's a tough mofo who does what he does best. Because when he's in a comic, fame is his power. Fanboy-driven fame. (I have the same beef with how Captain America and Batman are portrayed --- if a big selling point for the character is that he's just a human, albeit a human honed to the point of perfection, he still shouldn't be tussling with the Hulk or Amazo, no matter how big a woody fanboys get just reading about him. Maybe more on Cap later, as I do have some more to say on that subject.)

So anyway, here are a few matchups for Wolvie to delight in, only they'll be objective. Gads, I'm an iconoclast!

* The Hulk. Wolverine is always tussling with the Jade Giant. And somehow living through the experiences. Why? How? The man can only press 800 pounds! The Hulk is... how shall I put this? Oh yeah --- the strongest one there is. How do you justify the Hulk trading slugs with Thor in one book, yet in another having trouble with a relatively quick 5'3" guy who has knives in his wrists? I don't care if he has admantium guns that shoot admantium lasers comings out of his frickin' eyeballs, the little furball doesn't stand a goddam chance! You tell how it goes down, Hulkie: "Claw-man leap around, shouting 'Bub' like he does which only make Hulk angrier. So Hulk clap like this, BOOM, and claw-man fall down. Hulk grab claw-man and squeeze real tight. Hulk can crush tanks like grapes, so claw-man's skin mush up real good. Hulk leap a mile up and punch claw-man lots of times all the way up. Claw-man will scratch at Hulk like he does, but Hulk can take a few scrapes, and they heal in a few minutes anyways. On way down, Hulk make sure claw-man land first and Hulk on top. Hulk eat claw-man's face." Hulk by KO in 2, maybe 3.

* Captain America. Now this is a more even match. Capt. Rogers is as strong as Logan; the mutant may have the edge in speed. Logan's fiercer, but Cap's cool head in combat means that ferocity is no edge. Wolvie's claws are probably negated by Cap's dextrous shield-weilding skills. Wolverine has decades of combat experince, but so does Cap! In the end, I think that Cap's keen sense of battle stategy could carry the day, while Wolverine's fury could only work against him and make him sloppy. Still, with the healing factor and all, Wolvie's a hard guy to put down. Captain America on points.

* The Beast. Logan's fellow X-Man makes another reasonable contest. Dr. McCoy is much stronger (he can lift about a ton), more agile, and probably just as fast, but lacks that taste for blood that, in this case, might spell victory for Logan. He also lacks a healing factor, which means the good doc will, I'm afraid, be losing a war of attrition. Wolverine by KO in 5.

* Superman. No contest. Wolvie would cut this guy to ribbons posthaste! Just kidding. I put him in here to see if you were still paying attention. Superman by KO in 2, but only because he spends all of round one trying to calm Wolverine down so he won't hurt himself hurling his body against Superman's torso.

* The Black Panther. In the Avenger Who Lurks, we find another reasonable foe for the contumacious Canadian. This would be a battle royale that I, for one, would pay money to see. T'Challa's vibranium suit, energy knives and combat skills would give Wolvie a run for his money, or at the very least, work hard for a victory. There are a couple of variables here that I can't account for --- would Wolvie's claws be able to pierce the Panther's bullet-stopping vibranium suit, and would the Panther's own "anti-metal" have any deleterious effect on Wolverine's admantium? All the weaponry aside, I think this fight would be decided by speed, agility and combat smarts, and while the King of the Wakandians is no slouch, Wolverine has the edge in all three. If the fight were held in the jungle, or some other place (like an old ruined fort) where T'Challa's acrobatic skills and stealth could come into play, the Panther could probably manage to drop Wolverine. Even that is iffy, though, given the greater amount of damage Wolverine can absorb. In open ground, T'Challa wouldn't have much of a chance. I'd have to say Wolverine by TKO in 8 or 9.

* The Human Torch. With this fight, we suddenly perceive something about combat that comic book universes rarely address. To wit: characters who can fly and have long-range attacks are much, much, much more likely to win fights. What's Wolverine going to do, throw stuff at Johnny? He'd only melt it anyway. "Hey! What's that weird, orange, glowing skeleton with claws doing in that crater?" "Oh, that's where Wolverine lost his fight with the Torch. Don't touch it. It's still hot." The Torch by KO in 4.

* The Punisher. I think Wolverine's "fought" this guy before (aside from Ennis' humorous Punisher run, which doesn't count). What the hell? Wolverine can take a machine gun hit. Frank can't take a set of claws right through his Kevlar-covered belly. End of story. Wolverine by KO in 2.

Well, that was fun. I only wish comic writers would approach their own battle scenes as blissfully stripped of any fanboy worship.

So who is the Champ?


Why, us! The comic-book buying public.

Next: Oooooh, spooky

Amazo Vs. Batman and Nightwing

[NB: this scathing bit of truth in journalism was first posted in April, 2005]

Greetings. This post marks COC history --- Batman is the first character to be featured twice. Just thought I'd mention that for posterity.

Anyways. In Batman #637, Bruce ("Batman") Wayne and Dick ("I'm Not Robin") Grayson are confronted with, and defeat, the dreaded (albeit silly-named) android Amazo.

Amazo, in case you're not a 9th-level nerd like me, is a synthetic being who, somehow, has the powers of the original seven members of the Justice League of America. (And later, more, but let's just stick with the original members for now.) Post-Crisis, it's pretty hard to keep track of who exactly constitutes that group (that knowledge is the purview of 10th-level nerds), but I'm pretty sure it included Superman, Flash, Wonderwoman, Green Lantern and possibly the Martian Manhunter. Wow. And yet two humans in spandex whupped him with a hunk of plastique and some snazzy acrobatics. How can that be, I hear you clamor?

Well, the answer, to inappropriately quote William S. Burroughs, is so simple. Sheer, depraved fan-boy lust. Only a slavering Batbuddy fan-boy would think it was acceptable to set Batman and Nightwing against a foe of Amazo's caliber without some serious planning beforehand (which they had not --- they were surprised). Let alone to have them win. Yes, Batman is the Dark Knight, the Most Dangerous Man On Earth, looks stylish in a tuxedo, and for sheer battle stategy, could outflank Patton, Napoleon, Rommel and Alexander put together. But hand to hand, with no super-powered help from his buddies in the JLA, against Amazo? No chance. This is a creature of almost godlike power. To be fair, this Amazo was apparently an early model, with no magic lasso, power ring or bow and arrow. But even so, even with Superman and the Flash's powers --- hell, even with half of that power level --- Amazo wins. Having Batman beat Amazo is just wankery, and only weakens the image of Batman as the human at the peak of his ability. It's an error.

Much in the spirit of the [orignally] March 12th entry of this very blog, this entry will rectify that fanboy-inspired outcome. Here is how such a fight would really go:

Batman and Nightwing sight Amazo. At the same moment, Amazo sees them.

Batman: "It's Amazo!"

With Olympic-level athleticism and daring beyond most mortals' ken, Nightwing leaps up to higher ground, while with the speed born of endless hours of training honed by combat, Batman reaches for the bombs at his belt.

Before Nighwing's feet can touch the railings above or Bats' fingers can touch the bombs, Amazo rushes over in a blur of speed, grabs them both by the neck and squeezes, killing them instantly.

The end.


The Champ.

No genitalia. No girl.

Next: All the way down Route Snikkety-Snikt, bub!

Black Goliath Vs. Goliath

[NB: As is obvious, this post was written in April '05]

It's April! This being the cruellest month, let's have a couple of fictional characters pummel the snot out of one another for cheap larfs.

In the blue corner is one Dr. Bill Foster, a.k.a. Black Goliath, probably occasionally a.k.a. one of the many Goliaths and Giant-Mans out there in comicdom, but let's face it, Black Goliath is the name that will stick, even it is slightly offensive, blatant and obvious, and even if it does kinda sound like a porn star's name. On the other hand, check out this neato customized action figure.

In the red corner is Goliath, a.k.a. nothin', 'cause that's his real and only name. He's big, he's bad, he's 3000 years old --- the Original original, the Biblical Goliath. Oh, sure, there are lots of Goliaths from comics and cartoons I could have featured in this match-up, but I went with the Fearsome Philistine because he's the baddest of all. Why, you ask? Simple. He's... uh... a warrior... Oh, all right, I only did this to satisfy a whim I had to find out how big Goliath is in modern terms, okay? Are you happy now?

So then, how big is Goliath? I'm glad you asked. Let's turn to the Bible. Everyone got your KJVs out? Good. Now, turn to Goliath's first appearance, in the Book of David, chapter 4, verse 1. Found it?

April fool! There is no Book of David, you ignorant Philistines! Anyhoo. In 1 Samuel we find that Goliath's height "was six cubits and a span. And he had an helmet of brass upon his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail; and the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels of brass. And the staff of his spear was like a weaver's beam; and his spear's head weighed six hundred shekels of iron: and one bearing a shield went before him." Whew!

A quick bit of research reveals the helpful nuggets that a cubit was about 18 inches, and a span half that length, while a shekel was roughly equivalent to half an ounce in today's weight. Armed with this crucial info, all we need do now is calculate. Lessee... Carry the one... Divide by the sixteen ozzes that are in a lib... Reciprocate the renumerator... Gads, I'm glad I took all those helpful maths courses.

Basically, we find that Goliath Numero Uno was nine feet, nine inches tall, his coat weighed about 155 pounds, and his spearhead was about 20 pounds. All of which leads us to the important question of why he didn't carry his own damn shield, if he was so tough. Anyway, the good doctor can grow much bigger than nine feet. I'm not too sure on the specifics, as poor Black Goliath is a neglected character not only on the pages of comics themselves, but on the Web as well, but I'm fairly sure that he can grow at least twenty feet. Seems to me that even without a slingshot and a push from the hand of God, Dr. Foster could hand the relative titch Goliath a sound whuppin' in short order. Short order! Har! I made a pun!


The party's over, punks. The Champ's in town.

Next: Holy androids, Batman!

Captain Carrot Vs. Hoppy the Marvel Bunny

[NB: this post originally written in March '05]

Happy Easter! May peace be your watchword this season.

In honor of the holiday, today's COC fight pits two super-powered rabbits against one another. The first is a rabbit named Hoppy, who, upon uttering the magic syllables "Shazam," becomes the Marvel Bunny (sometimes called the Captain Marvel Bunny). [Later, due to legal restrictions, he'd say "Alizam," get a blue costume, and be known as the Magic Bunny --- but legal, schmegal, he'll always be the Marvel Bunny to me.]

The leaping leporid that Hoppy must face in honorable combat is, in his daily life, a shy cartoonist by the name of Roger Rabbit. No, not the one from the movie, but a different, bespectacled DC character, who, when he eats a certain powered-up carrot, is transformed into --- what else? --- Captain Carrot, fearless leader of the Zoo Crew, one member of which team has already been featured here.

Well, now, these are both marvelous characters, in my opinion. That DC lets guys like this fall into comic book limbo is probably based on solid financial guesswork, but it's a shame nonetheless. I think little kids today would dig seeing funny animal superhero stories, but who knows? Maybe they're all too jaded these days with their Pokeymans and Digiridoos and sullen ol' Batman Beyond and whatnot. What's wrong with a little goofy fun, I ask you?

And speaking of goofy fun, let's get back to the fight. If either one of these rabbits were caught off guard --- Hoppy jumped before he could say "Shazalizam," or the good Captain snared before he could munch down his extraterrestrial root --- well, obviously it would be over before it began. So in the interests of fairness, both rabbits begin powered up.

Even so, it won't be much of a pitched battle, for now we discern one important power difference between the two anthropomorphized lagomorphs. While Captain Carrot has increased power, strength, and stamina (and perhaps extra-good eyesight?), Gnu York's most famous rabbit, alas, cannot fly. He can only hop for miles and miles like a tiny, long-eared Hulk. Leapin' lettuce! On the other hand, since Hoppy has all the powers of Billy Batson's alter ego, he can fly. Along with the other traits given to him by Shazam --- the speed, wisdom, power, etc. of, presumably, whatever Dread Elder Rabbit Gods exist on his plane --- this makes him quite the furry little powerhouse indeed.

Is Hoppy as strong as the human Captain Marvel, or is he only super-rabbitly strong? In the end, it won't make much difference. It's been established that Captain Carrot is weaker and slower than Superman (they've met), and lacks Supes' other powers like heat vision. Not only that, the Captain's no slouch in the strategery department, but he's probably used to having the Zoo Crew watch his back; he's a little soft on the mano-a-mano, or lepo-a-lepo, battles. So there's not much hope for ol' Roger, as Hoppy can fly circles around him, and pick and choose his attacks with swiftness and acuity. I'm not saying it'd be a carrot-cakewalk, but Hoppy would soon gain the upper paw.


The Champ, if only by a hare. Har!

Next: Tall, dark and handsome

The Martian Manhunter Vs. Vision

For a change, today's COC fight is presented, in the grand old philosophical tradition, as a dialogue. Between Socrates and The Comic Book Guy.

S: What a admirable being is J'onn J'onzz, known by some as The Martian Manhunter! The last of his kind, he overcomes his grief at losing all he has ever known through acts of extreme nobility. Possessed of immense power, he chooses to help others, not only through force of arms, but through that most powerful of virtues, his boundless wisdom. Do you agree?

CBG: Pfft. No. Your speech only reveals your ignorance, my long-dead friend. In this contest, as in the Highlander, there can be only one victor. And that victor is one who is made by man, but who surpasses man's tawdry limitations. I speak not of the formidable Lieutenant Commander Data, but one even more stalwart than he: behold, the awe-inspiring Vision! Need I remind you that this android, in addition to possessing a supreme intellect, can fly, has super strength, can change his density, and emit destructive beams of radiation from that weird little dot between his eyes?

S: So you feel that a vast array of powers could decide this battle.

CBG: I do, Socrates.

S: Then perhaps we could renumerate some of the Martian's abilites. In addition to the flight, density changing, and super strength you speak of, J'onn J'onzz is a telepath, with all the accompanying psionic pwers; can turn invisible; has enhanced vision; can emit deadly energy beams from his eyes; and transform into any shape. These abilities I have just adumbrated do pertain to the Martian, do they not?

CBG: [Heavy sigh] They do, Socrates.

S: And this is a longer and wider list of powers than the Vision's, is it not?

CBG: It is, Socrates.

S: So we have proven, then, that on the scale you mentioned earlier, at least, the Martian wins.

CBG: [Mutters darkly]

S: What was that? I didn't quite catch it.

CBG: Nothing, nothing.

S: Now, another measure of a hero is how he he lives his life. I will not speak here of the Vision's pseudo-life as an android, for whatever one's definition of "life," it is certain that virtue, the good life, is what is to be chiefly valued. Man, machine, or Martian, actions count more than one's corporal makeup. True?

CBG: This is not quite what I had in mind when I agreed to have this little discuss---

S: I am glad we are once again in agreement. So, virtue is what we rate now. Let us start with J'onn. The Martian's friends regard him as one of the most trustworthy heroes on Earth. He has been a member of (as I believe) every single Justice League incarnation since its inception. Often, he is chosen as a leader, and a respected one at that. Even the paranoid Batman respects and trusts his green-skinned friend. All this does much to commend the Martian's skillful mind, not to speak of that highest of virtues, his wisdom, by the way. And again, in terms of raw power, he is unequalled; even such a godlike one as Superman has expressed doubts about beating J'onn in battle. Yet does the Martian use his powers in haste, or at the bidding of fickle emotion?

CBG: ...No?

S: No, he does not. The opposite, in fact, holds true. In contrast, your synthetic man has often fallen under the sway of what in man would be called emotion. In fact, he was originally a pawn of the maniacal robotic supervillain Ultron, correct?

CBG: Aha! I knew you would bring that up! He was, but he reformed, and saved---

S: He saved the Avengers, yes. But can one stray so far from one's true origin? Indeed, in the mid-eighties, the Vision used the other Avengers' absence during the Secret Wars as an opportunity to try to...?

CBG: [Weakly] ...Take over the whole world.

S: Yes. Now, our Martian has never done anything so base, has he?

CBG: No.

S: On the contrary, despite his power, he maintains a stoic distance from others weaker than he, interfering in their lives only to save them. Now tell me, Lipos, is it more honorable to openly live as what one claims to be, or to shamefully hide one's true nature in always reaching for new identities --- in the Vision's case, supervillain, human, husband, benign dictator, and oddly colorless android?

CBG: Well, that question is a bit circular, isn't it? Wait--- who do you mean, Lipos?

S: Oh, I just like to make up little Greek nicknames for my students, like Plato. In sum, Lipos, do you not feel now that J'onn J'onzz is altogether more powerful, more wise, more virtuous and more worthy of our admiration than the Vision?

CBG: If it will only make you stop talking, yes.

S: Then our session is over. Thank you for opening my mind to your point of view so that I may systematically break it down to the base untruth it was.

CBG: Worst. Dialogue. Ever.


The Champ. His girl perished in a fire. Sad.

Next: Hoppy Easter

Doc Samson Vs. Samson

[NB: this silliness originally posted March '05]

Just in time to miss St. Patrick's Day (Erin Go Bragh!), we have a match-up with a green-haired feller. Course, this guy ain't Irish (evidence suggests he's Jewish). It's Dr. Leonard Samson, a.k.a. Doc Samson. What a goddam brilliant nom de superhero! A brawny man with a ponytail and often (when drawn by John Byrne) sporting one of the most ludicrous costumes this side of Kraven the Hunter, but still a guy not to be messed with. Today he faces a man who may be the first super-hero ever. A mere mortal with specific godlike power, an orgin, a common and specific weakness, and a femme fatale arch-nemesis, he was put onto parchment around 1000 BC. All he lacked was a secret identity. It's the Doc's namesake, that Israelite Bloodthirsty Brawler of the Bible, son of Manoah, the original Samson.

I'm probably the only person in the world to ever admit this, but I'm a Doc Samson fan. He's been written badly, and used poorly, but I think the idea is a great one: a man of words and intellect, trapped in a way in an imposing, super-powered body, that almost mandates that he resolve conflict with his fists, however reluctantly, rather than with reason. (I like the equally reluctant super-hero Black Goliath for the same reasons.) In the right hands, he makes a superb foil for the Hulk for all Banner's many fragmented psyches. He may use his power as a last resort, but he's got plenty of it and the smarts to use it well.

Samson, on the other hand --- and I know he was a vessel for God's power, and, truly, I'm not questioning my Lord here --- was about as smart as a dead catfish. Look at Judges 16. Delilah tries to weasel the secret of his strength out of Samson, and each time he lies, she betrays him. You'd think he'd have sussed her out by the fourth time she does this; she doesn't exactly have his best interest at heart, right? No, the lunkhead eventually tells her the truth. So he gets captured, blinded and mocked. Did he think she was kidding when the Philistines rushed in the other three times? Way to think with the little head, Samson.

So, based on that evidence, I'd say the Jade Giant --- well, the jade-haired big guy, anyway ---would find a way to hand Samson his ass in due course. 'Course, there's no accounting for where or when the Spirit of the Lord might show up, but I'd say that applies in everything else, as well. So all things being equal...


The Champ, and what an ass he looks, too, eh?

Next: "Martian vision"

Northstar Vs. Wolverine

Hello, fellows.

Today we have two Canadian mutants slugging it out. One is a brash, impudent, arrogant, and might I add, if that weren't enough, a French-speaking and homosexual speedster, Jean-Paul Baubier, Northstar. The other is a short, hairy, macho-to-the-point-of-savage, English-speaking Canadian. You know him, even if you don't read comics. "I got claws, I can use 'em! Bub!" He looks great for a guy about a hundred years old, his real name ain't Logan, and he'll gut ya as soon as look at ya. Bub. Yes, it's that regenerating rodent... Wolverine!

(Actually, Wolverines are actually of the order Carnivora, not Rodentia. But dammit, the poet in me will sacrifice scienterrific accuracy for aurally aesthetic alliteration everytime.)

This is a timely COC fight. Why? Because in a recent [NB: this post was originally written in March '05] issue of one of the approximately 75 titles in the X-Men family, a writer called Mark Millar has Wolverine kill Northstar. This riles my hackles, or something. First off, I think Millar killed Northstar because he's a gay character, and thus he thought it would be edgy or controversial or something. I'm not going to wax political here --- that ain't my self-appointed job --- so I'll let this guy do it.

Second, it's not true to the characters' profiles. What I'm going to do is, I'm going to retell the fight as it should have happened, if comics fans and writers weren't such slavering fanboys with hard-ons for "bad" mofos like Wolverine. This fight will go according to the fictional perameters of the scene.

Picture it: first passing harmlessly through a phased Kitty Pryde, a crazed Wolverine leaps, claws extended, at Northstar, whose back is against a tree. Northstar is, of course, a speedster. Noticing a crazed, hairy, short mutant leaping at him with the relative agilty which you or I might note in a toddler advancing toward us, Jean-Paul takes to the air and lingers there, a few feet over Wolvie's head, as the tree is pierced to its poor arboreal heart by Wolvie's admantium claws.

At being so foiled, the Canucklehead explodes into an beserker rage no less impotent for all its fury, shredding the tree to scraps of bark and kindling while screaming up at Northstar something like "Damn faggot gonna ride the Claw Train all the way to Death City on Route Snikkety-Snikt!" With a few "bubs" and "that's what I do bests" thrown in, of course. [Apologies to Garth Ennis, whose Wolverine speech pattern I have appropriated and abused.]

Northstar takes off toward the nearest town and appropriates from various houses and sheds about half a dozen implements such as axes, tire irons, crowbars and the like.

He returns to find Wolverine in mid-leap, mid-swing and mid-epithet, trying to reach where Northstar was: "---ggot!"

Jean-Paul proceeds to ruin every implement he brought by beating Wolverine with them. Hitting the soft, fleshy parts (ear, throat, nose, eyes) at a hundred strikes a second, he soon has Wolveringe bloody, blind and baffled, if not broken and beaten. Easily avoiding the shorter mutant's wide haymakers (even a man as quick as Logan may as well be swimming in Jell-O compared to Northstar), he lifts Logan up, far up into the air, in the space of less than a second --- then drops him.

Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.

Result? One Wolverine, if not mangled, then at least one in no shape to be doing anything he does best.


The Champ.

And remember, the Champ always gets the girl. Or guy. Or killed.

Next: An ass with a jawbone

The Punisher Vs. The Shadow

In this corner, we see bitter widower Frank Castle, the original scourge of the underworld, the guy who can pull off the skull T-shirt garb and not look like a huge dork, The Punisher. In the other corner, a more mysterious figure in a red scarf, floppy hat, and black cloak: playboy Lamont Cranston, a.k.a. Kent Allard, a.k.a. The Shadow. And remember, The Shadow knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men.

Now, both these fellows hate crime with a passion, and share a fondness for spreading fear and general mayhem among the criminal element with big loud guns. Normally, I'm sure they'd love to meet one another, and spend hours over a couple of beers (or possibly ginger ale, to keep sharp --- is Frank a straight-edge?) swapping war stories, shooting the breeze, and just generally talking shop. They'd share such tips as how best to hamstring a thug, or where exactly to knife a mobster for maximum bleed time. Yes, under normal circumstances they'd get along like a cathouse on fire.

However, this is a fight, not some ladies' social club, so less chat, more splat. Assuming neither party has the advantage of an ambush, each of these two would, at first, have a pretty even chance of taking the other out with a single bullet. And both are fair shots with a firearm.

Now, Frank's seen a lot of combat, but the Shadow has been fighting the good fight for going on five decades, as some writers have it. He may in fact be ageless. And the Shadow is not only a more experienced and nuanced strategist than Frank, he has been known to turn invisible (save only his shadow... spooky), and has the power to "cloud men's minds." He's got an extremely strong, mass hypnosis-inducing power, to be precise. It wouldn't be long before he was counseling poor, post-traumatic stress disorder-sufferin' Frank to eat his own gun --- and Frank would be happily complying.


The Champ.

Next: You just opened up a whole snikt-pack of trouble!

Black Panther Vs. Wildcat

Today's fight pits T'Challa, the African Avenger, the deadly Black Panther, against the venerable Ted Grant, Justice League of America founding member, Wildcat. Yessir, Wildcat. (I figure two so-so links are as good as one well-executed one.)

Well now. When I first decided to feature today's match-up, I thought it would be a rock 'em, sock 'em battle between two fairly evenly matched, human-level warriors. The fact that they both have dark costumes and feline names only sweetened the deal!

However, upon doing a little light reading (Google, a few issues of T'Challa's title by Priest) I realized that it would be a rather one-sided affair. The Black Panther has a suit made out of vibranium, a fabric which, as I understand it, deadens sound, absorbs impacts from damaging blows, and breathes like cotton. Not only that, but it turns out that the Black Panther, clearly a dope-fiend from way back, gobbles some kind of herb to increase his strength and stamina! What a cheat! Oh yeah, and apparently he uses some kind of energy-knife now. An energy knife! He's the Tony Stark of Wakanda!

In contrast, Ted Grant is just an aged ex-heavyweight (who, by the way, at 170 pounds, would be considered a light heavyweight today, which is not one but two weight classes under heavyweight. Just saying is all, he's not that large a guy. Lennox Lewis, let alone the Klitschkos, would dwarf him). His costume? Made out of an unidentified but very mundane fabric. And it is, in fact, rather silly-looking. I mean, why did he include the little puff balls cats have under their noses? Even his name, when you think about it, is less than awe-inspiring. Here is a wild cat. Not too dangerous to human types. Which would you rather meet in the jungle --- one of them, or a black panther? I believe it was Mirror Master who once sneered, "Think I'm scared by ye? An old man dressed like a kitty?"

I rest my case.

In sum, Ted's decades of experience wouldn't help him much against a foe of T'Challa's caliber. The Black Panther beats Ted's ass down in double time. (Now, if they fought to the death, old T'Challa would get quite a shock when Wildcat poppped back up again after being killed and caught the Panther a hard one on the chin --- but T'Challa wouldn't go that far, so he'd get the win.)


The Champ.

Next: Bang! BANG BANG BANG rattatatatatatat pow pow pow banggitybang bang bang

Colossus Vs. Pig-Iron

Bonjour! C'est tres beau aujourd'hui!

Welcome to another COC fight. This one is a heavy metal smackdown! And I ain't talking about loud, repetitive music, either, so step back, Manowar and Motorhead! I mean guys literally made of heavy metal!

In the red (dirty Commie!) corner, the large, oafish-looking fellow you see looming over there is Piotr, styled "Peter," Rasputin, the one and only, or possibly just the best-known of many, Colossus. In the blue corner, you see another metal-skinned giant, the most beloved super-powered pig in comics. No, not Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham. It's Peter Porkchops, that lovable lug(nut), the most massive member of the Zoo Crew, Pig-Iron!

These two beings of iron will and even harder skins would no doubt spend but brief time sizing one another up. They're both powerhouses, and each noting that the other was a moving metallic being, they would no doubt feel free to move quickly into the fisticuffs portion of the programme. Like hammer and tongs! Har!

Colossus no doubt has experience that Pig-Iron lacks (combat experience, that is; he also knows far better than Pig-Iron what it's like to die of AIDS the Legacy virus and then get better, but that's beside the point). However, in my estimation Pig-Iron is larger than Piotr. I make these two out to be fairly evenly matched, assuming no one has the drop on his opponent. They would fight until both were tired.

At this point, Pig-Iron tries to reach Colossus with reason. "We're kinda goin' nowhere fast with this pounding each other routine, Silverskin. What say we give this thing a rest for a sec?"

"Da, tovarisch," gasps Piotr, employing that foreign-word-studded style of speech so popular in Chris Claremont-penned comics, and so rare amongst actual foreign people speaking English, "Da. You are right, my purple droog. Why do we fight? Is it because I look strange to you, and you to me? Are all sentient beings doomed to mistrust that which is different? When will we learn to judge one another as individ---"

"Sucker!" shouts the porcine paladin palladium of Piggsburgh, and catches Colossus square on his steel nose with a perfect roundhouse, flattening the Roosky without giving him time for so much as a "Boszhe moi." Leaving Peter R. as the chump and Peter P. as the champ --- because pigs fight dirty!


The only picture I could find of The Champ.

Next: Catfight! (No, not that kind, but I really ought to get around to having a female match-up.)

Green Lantern Vs. Iron Man

Hola! Es muy bueno hoy!

Today's donnybrook features two powerhouses: bazillionaire industrialist Tony Stark, yclept "Invincible," Iron Man; and his opponent, the man in black and green, Kyle Rayner, wielder of the most powerful weapon in the universe, Green Lantern. Now, in this fight...

["Whoa! Whoa! Hold the phone," some people may be shrieking hysterically, fanboy spittle flying from their feverish lips. "Yeah, it's your blog and all, but Kyle Rayner? By Oa, where's the real Green Lantern?!!"

Oh, yeah, Alan Scott. Yeah, he's great. I'll probably feature him in the f---

"No, not him! HAL JORDAN!!"

Oh. Yeah. Him. Well, see, the thing about that is, see...

Fuck Hal Jordan. I don't give a shit about Hal Jordan. I wish he'd stayed dead. People, the guy's weakness was the color yellow! Yellow. It's Green Lantern! Quick, pelt him with twinkies and lemons! I mean come on. And his ring could be taken from him and used against him. What, the guardians of Oa couldn't be bothered to put some kind of Jordan imprint on the ring? Any Joe Schlub could pick it up and start creating green fantasies of his own? Not that Joe Schlub off the street would do a worse job with the ring than Hal Jordan. All he knew how to do was make big green hands, spheres and boxing gloves. The guy had a weapon that made his thoughts become reality, and what did he do? He made big green hands grab people. Great, Hal. Nice imagination there. Oh, and finally: what's this no fear crap? I don't admire people who are too stupid to know when they're in danger. Keep your head down, wait for the right moment, then make your move --- seems like pretty sound advice. But Hal's the kind of jerk who, finding himself in the trenches in WWI, would charge across no man's land at Verdun and be riddled by German machine guns before he'd have time to figure out why he was out there in the first place. "Too bad about Private Jordan, he was a stand-up guy." "Yeah, but too dumb to wear his helmet. Said he wasn't scared of taking a bullet." "Gee, that is kinda dumb, Sergeant Rayner."

Well.... anyway. So that's what I think about slavish Hal devotion.]

Where was I? Oh yeah, this was supposed to be a fight, right? Well, let's see... The most powerful weapon in the universe against a mustachioed alcoholic in a souped-up bodysuit.

I'd say Kyle will have peeled Tony out of that suit with a big green can-opener in about .75 seconds.

(Good thing it wasn't Hal fighting; he'd have been stymied by Iron Man's yellow armor and yellow repulsor beams.)


The Champ.

Next: Heavy metal thunder

Slam Bradley Vs. The Spirit

Today's COC fight features two non-super-human crime-fighting gents from 1937 and 1940, respectively --- Slam Bradley and Denny Colt, The Spirit.

("Huh?" You may well be saying to yourself. "The Spirit I know, but who's this Slam guy?" Good question, since he's relatively obscure, or at least was until the fine writer Ed Brubaker brought him back as an aged but still tough guy in Catwoman. You can read more about Slam, the man, the legend, the human sound effect, here and here, courtesy of the good folks at Scans Daily.)

So. Off they go, these two macho hunks of men, with nary a utility belt, Legion flight ring, or even a Kevlar vest between the two of them. Just muscle against muscle, bone on bone.

Whoops, this is starting to sound like slash.

Anyway. Who has the edge. Well, let's see. Snappy dresser? The Spirit is in spades; Slam, not so much. A clever strategist? The Spirit is; Slam's idea of a cunning plan is very much akin to Baldrick's in Blackadder. ("I shall pretend to be bellhop! A hulking, uncouth bellhop with a granite jaw!") A cool hand with the ladies, whether they be innocent ingenue or sultry femme fatale? The Spirit, more or less; Slam vehemently prefers to punch out a Chinaman than kiss a gal. Created by a genius? The Spirit was the brainchild of the late, truly great Will Eisner, the Picasso of comics; Slam was created by Jerry Seigel and Joe Shuster, who also gave the world an oddly-attired fellow name of Superman --- so yes, they've got some comics cred, but nobody beats out Eisner. Racist overtones? The Spirit's sidekick Ebony was construed as a stereotype, and maybe he was, but Eisner tried to rectify that; Slam liked to beat the snot out of Chinamen.

Some of the above may have relevance to a fistfight; some may not. But it's my blog, and I say the Spirit's got the stuff of a champion: determined, fearless, persistent and tough. Slam thought and talked with his fists. Denny Colt would wipe the floor with the palooka.


The Champ.

And remember, the champ always gets the girl. Or, as you can see from some of these pictures, she gets him. Oh well.

Next: In darkest night, in brightest armor...

Animal Man Vs. Beast Boy

I admit it: today's COC fight is not exactly the Battle of the Century; indeed, it's a rather one-sided affair. It's just that the names involved make it seem like a cool match-up on paper --- I mean, Animal Man Vs. Beast Boy. Come on! It was meant to be.

Ahem. So, here we have family man Buddy Baker, a.k.a. Animal Man (representin' the big bad Justice League! Well, a Justice League, of sorts, anyway). And over there, we have the guy whose name I thought was Garth until I looked it up, comics' other Logan, Gar Logan, the hero formerly known as Changeling, Beast Boy (representin' the Teen Titans, baby! Take that!).

So. Beast Boy can turn into any animal, except his color stays green for some goddam reason. (You'd think if he had enough molecular control to change his form and mass, he'd have enough to change his pigment, but apparently no. Actually, this brings up an interesting point: what if he turns into an octopus or chameleon? Can he change color then? Oh, all right, it's not interesting). While, on the other hand, Buddy can mimic the powers of any animal on earth, though his form does not (usually) change.

This will be a real shellacking. Buddy is not limited to the use of one animal power at a time, while Gar, by virtue of shapechanging, perforce is. Buddy can fly; he can wield the strength of whales or elephants or even dinosaurs; he can shoot out clouds of ink or poison or numbing sprays; he can regenerate lost limbs. He can strike with the speed of a swift, the power of a bull and the reflexes of a fly all at once. Hell, if he so desires, he can make multiple copies of himself, as he once did in his own title, and take Gar down the dirty way. So basically, Beast Boy's gonna be a little furry green splotch on the ground soon.


The Champ.

And remember, the champ's brutally murdered wife and children is always resurrected for him by a benign creator. Uh... well, something like that.

Next: Pow! Bang! SLAM!

The Hulk Vs. The Thing

Today, one one side we have Dr. Bruce Banner's super alter-ego (or, more correctly, super alter-Id --- Har! a little Freudian humor there), the Jade Giant, the Strongest One There Is, You Wouldn't Wanna Make Him Angry 'Cause You Wouldn't Like Him When He's Angry, The Incredible Hulk. On the other side, everyone's favorite member of the Fantastic Four, the bashful Ben Grimm, the terror of Yancy Street, the ever-lovin' blue-eyed Thing.

Today's battle is thought by many to be iconic, a veritable Battle of the Century, a comic fan's favorite. Just look at the recent miniseries. But it's not iconic. Actually, it's ironic. Do you know why? No, not because it's like a fly in your Chardonnay. It's because (a) in order to give a rat's ass about the "outcome" of this battle of fictional comic characters, you must be a comic reader; but (b) if you are a comic reader, you should know that fight would actually be no drawn-out, edge-of-your-seat battle royale, but a no-brainer.

(Hey! Who call Hulk a no-brainer?) Not you, Hulk; sit down, please.

Consider: the Hulk regenerates almost instantly. The Hulk's strength grows as he gets angrier. There is no known limit to the Hulk's strength; it seems to simply increase as he needs it. His leg muscles are so strong, the guy can leap three miles. For Pete's sake, he can knock a crowd of people on their collective asses just by clapping his hands! On the other hand, the Thing, while certainly no creampuff, is simply a very strong guy.

There is just no contest here. Even considering that sometimes the Hulk isn't exactly a Mensa candidate (Hey! Who call Hulk...), Ben's street smarts aren't going to save him from the strongest mortal in the Marvel Universe. Even savage, the Hulk has always demonstrated enough animal cunning to best foes much smarter than he. Face it: in a real battle with the Hulk as he's meant to be depicted, the Thing will soon be orange powder.


The Champ.

And remember, the Champ usually gets the girl, but when he has severe personality problems like the Hulk, he also drives 'em away.

Next: Goin' at it tooth and claw

John Constantine Vs. Dr. Strange

In this match-up, we see one ultra-cool, hard-drinking, back-stabbing John Constantine, known in some circles (of Hell! Har!) as "Hellblazer," up against the Mastic of Myster arts, one Dr. Stephen Strange.

Let battle commence!

DS: By the hoary hosts of Hoggoth, none such as you shall---
JC: The hairy hoardes of what? And look --- not to be rude or anything, mate, but what have you got on?
DS: (Looks down at his attire: the cape with the upswept collar, the black leg tights, the flared gloves, etc.) What?
JC: Jesus, it's wanks like you that give this profession a bad name. You look like a frigging ringmaster for a particularly poncey sort of carnival, don't you?
DS: Well, not as such... I mean, it's a sort of presence thing---
JC: Hate to hand it to you, mate, but that oaf with the tongue out of KISS has presence. What you've got is... well, for starters, a cape with a collar shooting up eight inches over your head! I mean, what's the bleeding point of that?
DS: Well--- (Shakes himself as if from a trance) By the Moons of Munipoor! I will not be---
JC: (Sympathetically) I've a hunch you've looked even sillier than that at times, eh?
DS: (Nods dumbly)
JC: Well, never mind. Let's pop off round the corner for a quick one, shall we?
DS: Your... your will is strong, John Constantine, but I... (Adapts a martial arts pose) I can fight with my body as well!
JC: Oh bloody hell, look, if it's knocking heads you're after, there'll be plenty of yobboes down at the pub. Some of them could stand for a good arse-kicking. Now come on!
DS: All... all right.
JC: Just buy us a packet of silk cuts as well, will you? Er... you have got money stored somewhere in those ballet tights, haven't you?
DS: I am Doctor Stephen Strange! I can conjure unlimited amounts of money!
JC: This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship, mate.
DS: Really?
JC: No.


The Champ.

And, in this case, the champ doesn't get the girl, really, because they're always leaving him or dying or getting dragged down to Hell as a result of John's awful behavior.

Next: Hard Knocks

Cyclops Vs. Polyphemus

In our third COC fight, we have the wiry mutant leader of the X-Men, Scott Summers, a.k.a. Cyclops, up against the original Cyclops, the one-eyed Greek giant named Polyphemus.

At first glance, Polyphemus seems to outmatch the relatively tiny X-Man. Appearing in Book Nine of The Odyssey (I heartily recommend Robert Fagles' translation for your reading pleasure), Polyphemus is indeed a giant. Homer does not give us specific measurements as to his height or strength level, but notes that Polyphemus can easily lift a a massive boulder that twenty-two four-wheeled wagons could not pull. He also picks up two brawny warriors and dashes them against a rock, killing them instantly. Clearly, Polyphemus is no physical slouch.

However, this brings us to the nub: he is lacking in the brains department. He fell for Odysseus' wordplay and allowed himself to be plied with wine; he's not much the strategist. In contrast, Scott Summers has been leading the X-Men since he was a very young man, and knows one or two things about bringing down a more physically formidable opponent. He'd just keep his distance and pound Polyphemus with his laser blasts until the one-eyed monster falls. (Sounds a bit rude, doesn't it?)

The best thing about this fight is, it means Polyphemus can relive the humiliation he suffered under Odyssesus, when the hero told the oafish giant that his name was Nobody and confusion ensued:

(Cyclops kicks Polyphemus' ass and leaves. The other Cylopes, hearing his groans of pain, come rushing over.)
Other Cyclopes: What is it, Polyphemus? Who hurt you?
Polyphemus: Cyclops!
OC: A Cyclops?
P: Cyclops!
OC: Was it one of us?
P: No!
OC: Well, if it was a Cyclops, and it wasn't one of us, then you must have done it to yourself. Serves you right, you insufferable bastard.
(They leave. Polyphemus groans in pain.)


The Champ.

And remember, the champ always gets the girl... until she turns into some kind of cosmic fiery entity that's bent on destroying the universe or something.

Next: Strange ould world, innit?

Captain Marvel Vs., Uh... Captain Marvel

In this corner, Billy Batson's alter-ego, the original Captain Marvel, often (erroneously) referred to as "Shazam!" In the other corner, we have another Captain Marvel, often (correctly) referred to as Captain Mar-Vell.

Lessee here... they can both fly, and have superhuman strength. They also both have nifty red constumes with shiny yellow emblems on their chests, but I guess that's not too relevant. Marvel (the comic company, not either of the two characters) is more specific than DC in detailing its characters' powers; they say Mar-Vell can lift ten tons, with something called "nega-bands" that augment his strength. DC tells us that the original Captain Marvel has the strength of Hercules --- a more vague appraisal, you'll agree. However, I'd say that the Greek god of strength can lift more than ten tons. Also, Batson has the edge in skills, considering he has the wisdom of Solomon, power of Zeus and speed of Mercury.

With this wisdom, Billy boy would soon realize that Mar-Vell's wristbands were the source of some of his power and destroy them. After that, the now only slightly superhuman Mar-Vell would be very easy to send back to whatever loathesome Hell the Kree go to when they die.

End result? Marvel beats Mar-Vell.


The Champ.

In this case, apparently, the champ doesn't get the girl, because he's really just some dorky kid.

Next: Keep your eye out for this fight!

Batman Vs. Captain America

Back before the Ex abandoned me and my life was cast into an interminable pit of self-loathing and despair, I was a light-hearted fellow. Under another pseudonym, I maintained a blog wherein I'd occasionally pit comic book characters against one another for comedic effect. It was called Contest of Champions (and the entries, COC fights).

In lieu of writing about the bathos of the Job, or the banality of State School, or my pathetic pining after a gorgeous girl who spends a lot of time with me but doesn't want to date me, I will reprint these old blog entries here. (This first one is kind of lame, but they get better.) Enjoy!

***

In the first ever COC fight, it's Batman against that bastion of American values, Captain Apple Pie --- I mean, Captain America.

Well, Cap's got the edge physically. Bats has honed himself to be the perfect, Olympic level athlete, but Cap has the super-soldier serum, which gives him that extra scintilla of power and endurance he'd need against a foe of Bats' caliber. I'm afraid Cap is also ahead in the experience department; in comic time, Cap has years of WWII experience fighting Nazis and Japs [that's what he called them then; don't blame me] hand to hand, plus his modern, post-thaw stints in the Marvel Universe. So I'd say that if this fight were to take place in an open field, or some kind of UFC-style octagon-shaped cage, Caps would get the upper hand. But, the fight would more likely take place in the streets, rooftops and alleys. And that, I'm afraid, is Bats' demesne. Bats has the edge in gadgets --- he has access to any number of acid capsules, smoke bombs, ropes, taser, etc etc in his utility belt, and, coupled with his superior street smarts, that makes Mr. Bruce Wayne the winner.


The Champ.

And remember, the Champ always gets the girl.

Next: A marvelous match-up

Cute cute! Little baby!

The Friar and I went to the hospital to see 74 and Zaftig's baby. In all honesty, I have never seen a cuter newborn. This girl is one day old, and she's not red or wrinkly, but already has that baby cuteness most newborns don't. Zaftig looked in great spirits, and 74, Friar and I made a lot of very crude jokes about life, death and racial relations.

A bright moment in a day of bleak despair. The Maddening Angel plagues my thoughts.

Life goes on

My good high school friend 74 and his wife Zaftig had a baby girl today. All my friends are married and now they're having kids. (T-Bone's got two of his own already, but he's only tangentially adjecent to my circle.)

The Maddening Angel fucks and runs. The Ex has nothing to do with me and has clearly made the right choice for her; she's happy.

I feel alone and bitter and sad.

Vocabulaire: poisseux

poisseux - sticky, gummy

L'enfant porte une bavette quand il mange de la pastèque, mais son visage devient poisseux quand même.

Vocabulaire: une raclée

une raclée - a beating, thrashing, hiding

Pourquoi Dieu me donne-t-il toutes ces raclées ? Je suis un homme anéanti.

Vocabulaire: piocher

piocher - to draw a card from a deck

J'ai battu les cartes et j'ai coupé le paquet. Maintenant, piochez une carte, s’il vous plaît ! Ne me dites pas, la carte que vous tenez ne pouvait être que... le trois de carreau ! ...Non ? Le roi de pique ? Le cinq de pique ? C'est une carte rouge ? Euh... le chiffre est-il pair ?

Soaked and sick at Halloween

The Boss arranged for us to take the kids up and down the main street into the businesses there to trick or treat at the Job today. (The Maddening Angel, my gorgeous co-worker, wore a sort of lacy dress that was meant to be an angel costume; I wore a Misfits shirt.)

It rained. Hard. Everyone got soaked. By the end, the kids were saying they wanted to go back, some were chattering with cold, and I'd given my button-down to MA to cover her suddenly quite sheer dress. It was a nice idea and all, and the kids looked cute in their costumes, but man, what a terrible time for a monsoon.

***

Later that night, I went to the Hangout where the Friar was DJing. Muffin, my good friend from high school, was there; she lives in New York now with her husband, but he didn't come. Later on, MA and her friend K came by, dressed in costume. She also brought her ex-boyfriend, a dopey-looking fellow who dumped her back in May or so and is now her fuckbuddy at his convenience. He calls her for sex, she accepts hoping that this time it's because he wants to be with her again, he gets sex, and then he stops talking to her until the next time. And she calls me crying and upset because she feels used and cheap. Poor stupid kid. Asshole guy. What on earth is her obsession with him about? K and I are both perplexed. He has actually come out and said in as many words to her, "I don't find you emotionally attractive, just physically attractive." And he has put those words to deeds many times. MA is still stuck on him, unfortunately.

I drank a lot, very quickly, and Muffin's brother Anacreon had to drive me home, where I puked repeatedly in the yard. What a charming, graceful, delightful fellow I am.

Vocabulaire: un illuminé

un illuminé - a visionary; a lunatic

Ils m'ont traité avec mépris, ils m'ont moqué, ils m'ont tourné en ridicule... mais un jour, ils avoueront que je suis un illuminé !

Vocabulaire: un guépard

un guépard - a cheetah

Il s'est pris pour un coureur fort, mais il me semble que le guépard l'a pris sans effort.

Vocabulaire: un volet

French vocabulary word

un volet - a window shutter

Éteignez la lumière et fermez les volets ; je vais dormir à poings fermés.

Spice is the variety of life

Bored with the homogeneity of this blog, I'm going to take a lengthy break from writing about classes and school. Since I started this blog, I've met a very good friend and even gone on what turned out to be a rather shabby "date" with a classmate with whom I share a strong attraction. I have refrained from writing about my social life, and I probably still will for now, but I'm going to branch out from education for certain.

More school news next semester, January 2006.

Procedures are so important

In American Public School, we watched another Harry Wong video; more helpful advice on having procedures and maintaining order in a calm, practiced way. He's got some great ideas. I'll certainly want to practice the daily procedures of routine tasks, as he advises. Once the structure and discipline issues are understood, teaching ought to proceed a lot more smoothly.

We have another group presentation in class next week; we're doing effective schools. I'll talk for about two minutes on Academic Focus and High Self-Efficacy. Piece of cake!

The power of negative expectation

Well, despite my fears, I did even better on the second "opportunity" in Educational Psychology than the first --- I got a 91, which according to Mr. S's curve is a solid A. I guess that when you're faced with a question and you draw a total blank, spouting random B.S. sprinkled with keywords like "development" and "metacognitive" and "social construction" and "information processing" is a great strategy. Go me!

The TA brought in a guest speaker --- the principal at the school where he works --- and it was fairly interesting. She gave us some good tips on preparation and planning, and defined handy devices like Cornell note taking (a three-column system) and KWL (what we know, what we Want to know, and what we Learned).

I found it notable that at one point, in talking about planning with a mentor, she used a phrase very close in wording to Mr. A's stock quote: "You need to become a veteran teacher's best friend, because you are not good enough to do it on your own."

The Sage On Stage

Today at W, I met a former preschooler of mine, now attending kindergarten there. His mother said he was doing great and had been prepared for school well. Good.

Ms. D is such an organized and together teacher --- she mixes small groups, seatwork, circle, lecture and fun time very well --- that I often feel like I'm not exactly being an invaluble resource in the classroom. I've mentioned this to her, and she assures me that I am a help, but it's really mostly crowd control and a bit of prompting here and there during deskwork. So today, when she prepared to read a story, I stepped in and offered to read it instead. It was Owl Moon, by Jane Yolen (but a strangely abridged version from the one I know so well, having heard it on audiotape approximately a Brazilian times during naptime at VOA). The kids were supposed to read along with me, but I ended up reading it to them, which was fine. Then, to my surprise, Ms. D handed me a marker and asked me to lead the class in a question session to construct a word web based on owl concepts. It went all right, and she said I did very well.

But up there, behind the desk, and standing at the easel with a marker in my hand, pointing at kids who raised their hands, I felt it. That same feeling I've read about so often in anecdotal essays by teachers about their first years. I wasn't nervous, no. I didn't feel as if Ms. D were judging my performance or anything. Just... a strange feeling, like I didn't really belong up there. Like I said, I've read about this, and my teacher friends tell me the same thing: it's a common feeling, apparently. "I'm not a teacher! Can't they see that I look like an idiot up here with this silly marker in my hand, writing down things on a big paper?"

The really strange thing is that I should be feeling this way at all. I've been a preschool teacher for more than four years now, and a teacher's aide and so forth before that. I'm used to declaiming things in front of kids and asking questions and leading discussions. I guess it all changes when you're the cynosure in a "real" classroom.

I tells ya, it's an odd experience, being at the front of the class, looking at students looking back at you, and ostensibly directing things. And today it was just a bunch of 2nd graders tossing out concepts, with a lot of leeway as to "right" or "wrong" answers! Imagine teaching AP English or physics for the first time... Oh, the confidence one would have to fake! I shudder to think.

Vocabulaire: croupir

croupir - to languish, grow foul, stagnate

Poussez un hourrah ! La prison est abimée ! Nous avons libéré la racaille qui croupissait là-dedans, et qui à ce moment même ravage les citoyens honnêtes de la ville ! Pour la Liberté ! Pour l'Égalité ! Pour la Fraternité... Tiens ! C'est où, mon portefeuille ?

Vocabulaire: une garce

une garce - a whore, bitch

Cette espèce de garce m'a chopé mon argent et ma bite.

Vocabulaire: une tarlouze

une tarlouze - a (passive) homosexual

Même si on est une tarlouze, ça ne veut pas dire qu'on est taré.

Vocabulaire: la foutaise

la foutaise - crap, bullshit, lies

La femme est une être plus douce et faible que l'homme ? Cette idée n'est que de la foutaise ! Ah, je vais me tordre de rire !

Stand and deliver

In American Public School, we had our first group presentation (the class was assigned classroom topics, and presented a 5-10 minute talk on the topic; our team was given Measurement, and I outlined a few broad strategies). Even though as a kid I did a lot of acting (stage and radio, some voice-over) and felt never a shred of stage fright, in my adult years I've gotten a bit nervous talking in front of classmates. Tonight was no exception; I think I talked too fast and shook a bit. I don't know why; it's not like I'm shy, and my peers don't intimidate me or anything. Maybe it's just that I get flustered doing most things for the first time. Come the second presentation, I'll do better.

And two classmates told me I sounded like I had bronchitis. Lovely.

Urgh

Okay, I took my second Psychology of Education test, and the prognosis isn't good. I'm pretty sure I missed at least 20 points; I definitely blanked on two short-response items and flailed around in a non-informative way on a longer response. Well, that's life in the school lane.

Tomorrow is our group presentation in American Public School, so I'd better start practicing my one-minute, twenty-five-second long speech. Unfortunately, I've had a sore throat since Sunday.

More "cutesy"

Today at W, I stayed a bit later to watch Ms. D do her planning sheet for the next day. It seemed easy enough, if a bit stifling. She told me there's a lot less autonomy at her job these days, and she basically just copies lessons from assigned books.

During social studies, the class learned about a few land forms and then drew them. One kid said his peninsula was "Elvis Peninsula" because it looked like Elvis' hair. (And it did, kind of.) Then he mentioned that the principal at W loves Elvis, and once had his "blue sweaty shoes" on display.

Laugh or puke at it, you can't make that kind of stuff up.

Vocabulaire: ça crève les yeux

ça crève les yeux - it’s evident, obvious, as plain as the nose on your face

Le Président des Etats-Unis est un abruti, ça crève les yeux.

Vocabulaire: une miette

une miette - a crumb, scrap

Il y a des pauvres dans le monde qui ne reçoivent que des miettes.

Vocabulaire: mâcher

mâcher - to chew

Si vous ne mâchez pas votre nourriture lentement, en prenant de petites bouchées, vous pourriez mourir étouffé.

Thursday at W

So at The Job on Monday, school was closed and we had a mandatory teacher's meeting. There were lame activities that were supposed to inspire team-building, but it was done in the desultory, half-assed manner that everything at The Job is, so it was a joke. Then we worked on classroom arrangement.

The upshot is that I transferred my usual Monday morning tutoring at W to today. I got there extra early (7:30 am) and interviewed Ms. D, asking her a series of questions I wrote myself, mostly about day to day practicalities of the job. I also got to witness an asembly and a recess period, so I have now done my observations. Now all that remains is to write up something cogent on what I saw and what Ms. D said.

During class, some older kids were outside doing gymnastics and exercising with two large parachutes. Ms. D and I tried to keep the lesson going, but when loud foot-tappin' music started coming through the windows, we gave up and let them watch for a few minutes. All of a sudden, one boy said, "The parachute I like is beautiful, with all kinds of colors." There was a sort of general, subdued giggle at that. He went on: "It's not the blue and white one, but the one with lots of nice colors." The laugh this time was louder, and another boy asked (without malice), "Are you a girl, R?" He said "Yes," happily and without irony. Laughs.

I'm not saying that R is going to grow up to be a homosexual. But I have definitely noticed, over the years, many boys who display effeminate characteristics from the moment they could talk. (I couldn't help thinking about the ludicrous national "debate" about whether sexual orientation is a matter of choice. All I know is, I for one never made a choice to be heterosexual --- did the leaders of the fundamentalist hypocritical "Christian" right consciously choose? "Say, look at the buns on that guy! And say, look at that girl's legs! They're both nice --- but which one am I most attracted to...?" If they didn't, why do they think other people did?)

If they aren't learning the way you teach, teach the way they learn

Another epigram from Mr. A. He's got a million of 'em.

American Public School was a good class. We talked about how middle schools are different from junior high schools; mandatory attendance, its importance, and how to enforce it; and the characteristics of an effective school. We also turned in our midterms, which were take-home and not very involved. One of the tasks was to make a timeline spotlighting ten of the most significant events in the history of American public education.

My timeline featured:

1. The Old Deluder Satan Act of 1647
2. Article I of the US Constitution
3. The common school movement that started in Massachusetts
4. Plessy v. Furgeson
5. Brown v. Board of Education
6. The War on Poverty --- the great increase in education funding
7. Title I and Head Start
8. A Nation At Risk
9. IDEA
10. No Child Left Behind

Someone else mentioned Article X, which is pretty significant. By devolving the responsibility for public education to the states, it opened to the door to the debates and controversies that surround our schools today. Who knows? If the Founding Fathers had thought of a federal Education Department, there might not have ever been (legal) segregation.

But then, that's just crazy talk.

Here comes another opportunity!

The second test for Educational Psychology is next week. Once again, Mr. S gave us "tips" --- basically, the information that the test will cover. (Everything else in the book, we can happily forget forever, right?)

Then he left, and the TA had us make a poster meant to ask college students to help tutor. Then we saw a short video. Zzzzzz.

Vocabulaire: creuser

creuser - to dig, excavate

La taupe est peut-être aveugle, mais elle est capable de creuser quelques kilomètres de tunnels sous votre jardin.

Vocabulaire: tomber des hallebardes

tomber (or pleurer) des hallebardes - to rain violently, rain cats and dogs

Je me suis promené un peu. Tout en songeant à des femmes, je ne faisais pas attention aux nuages gris qui s'amoncelaient. Soudain, il tombait des hallebardes, et mes habits étaient trempés.

Vocabulaire: boulotter

boulotter - to scarf down, eat

Les cochons aiment boulotter les glands.

Let Creativity Bloom

Our Educational Psychology text, in its discussion on creativity, cites animator Chuck Jones and psychologist Teresa Amabile, both of whom have something to say on the stifling of creativity. Amabile remembered how her early love of art was destroyed by an art teacher whose idea of instruction was asking children to copy masterpieces (something they don't have the skill to do), and Jones noted how the seemingly harmless but unthinking comment from an adult (like "why is the flower bigger than you?") can turn a child off of artistic expression.

I have always been good at drawing. At some things, like simple inanimate objects or people, I'm very good. At other things, like animals or technology, not so much. But I sketch cleanly and quickly, I have some skill in rendering things into their archetypical cartoon form, and I can make people laugh with my drawings. But I've never seriously considered cartooning as a job, or even as a freelance gig, though many people asked me about it as I grew old enough to start thinking about jobs.

When I was very young, my pragmatic, materialistic uncle told me that the odds of making it as a cartoonist were as slim as a high school footballer making it as a pro athlete, that only a small fraction of the very best ever make any money at it. In his own limited way, I suppose he was trying to set me on the road to success, but was it that conversation that made me think I could never be an illustrator or cartoonist?

Another memory pops up. Someone else --- or my uncle, again? I don't know --- looked at a picture of a horse I drew and told me that horses' tails don't shoot our horizontally while they're running. Maybe they don't, but I was a very young child! (Chuck Jones might say that I was admirably expressing the speed of the horse.) Is it because of this offhand comment that I have always felt that I'm weakest at drawing animals' bodies?

I don't want to indulge in autobiography or wallow in self-pity here. But I read the text, and I thought of those old, old memories, and I thought:

As a teacher, never, never will I "correct" a young child's art (unless explicitly asked for help on a detail, for example).

I will always, always strive to find out the idea behind, and say something positive about, a picture a child shows me, even if it seems to me just a series of scribbled lines.

The flower is bigger than the person because the flower is important. The girls' legs are drawn impossbly long because she knows she's growing. The sky is red because the person in the picture is angry. That black, unidentifiable mass of circular lines is a very fast car.

The picture looks that way because the child is saying something that way.

What is it?

Vocabulaire: le facteur

French vocabulary word

le facteur - the postman

On dit que le facteur sonne toujours deux fois, mais pourquoi donc a-t-il laissé un colis sur ma véranda sans m'avertir ?

Quiz! Hurry! Panic!

To shake things up a bit, Mr. A told us last week that there would be a quiz on chapters 1-6. Since this hasn't been a very text-intesive course, this perplexed a few of us. When we came to class today, he announced that the quiz was open-book and we had only 15 minutes. Panic ensued. The time deadline combined with, ironically, the open-book format (it constrains you rather than letting you reflect) created a real sense of anxiety. At the end of the 15 minutes, he had us break into our groups and compare our quizzes. We had a good time arguing over any disparities we had.

Although in the end he said he would grade the quizzes, it was all an exercise in experiencing tests and pressure. Someday we'll be the ones up there passing out the dreaded test sheets. Teachers would do well to remember that their job isn't to trip students up or make them feel pressured, but to help them learn. A few positive words of encouragement and a relaxed atmosphere just might do wonders for both the teachers' stress levels and the students' performance.

N.G.W.A.

(Not Good With Acronyms)

In Educational Psychology, the TA brought in a guest speaker who works with special ed kids and does referrals. I know that every profession has, and likes to foster, its own isoteric jargon and specialized acronyms, but special ed takes the cake. In one half-hour session, I heard her use all of the following:

• IDEA - the Individuals with Disabilities Act
• NCLB - No Child Left Behind
• LRE - Least Restrictive Environment
• PPCD - Preschool Program for Children with Disabilities
• ARD - Admission, Review and Dismissal
• SST - Student Support Team
• HIV- Human Immunodeficiency Virus
• AIDS - Acquired ImmunoDeficiency Syndrome
• OCD - Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder
• ADHD - Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder
• LD - Learning Disability
• AU - Autism (what the hell? That's not an acronym!)
• MR - Mental Retardation
• ED - Emotional Disturbance
• OHI - Other Health Impairment

Yeesh!

We also had the opportunity to write assessments of the class. I noted down that Mr. S just repeats the text, which is not informative, and that I'd rather have supplemental info.

They got their own way of talkin'

I have mentioned before that I have lived in Oregon. I wasn't born there, but I wasn't born in Texas, either. The point is that I do not "speak Texan." I have what you might say is a standard, non-inflected American accent like a national newscaster. My mother, on the other hand, is Texas born and bred. Once, some old friends and I sat at my house playing the game of Scattergories with my mother. One of the categories was "Words that rhyme with end." The letter was W. Both the Mother and the Friar, who is also a lifelong Texan, put "wind." Now, if you're from the eastern US, as I am, you find that flat wrong. Now, wend, that rhymes with end. Wind, not so much. But I guess it does here.

This morning, at W Elementary, the 2nd graders were studying the two different sounds of g. Ms. D wrote on the board several words using both sounds. At one point she wrote "gem" and explained that it was a precious stone like jewelry. Then she wrote "gym," noting that it was a place to play. Then she said the two were homophones.

Not to me, they ain't.

But, as all the texts say, you have to teach to the culture, I guess.

There's a southern accent where I come from
The young'uns call it country
The Yankees call it dumb
I got my own way of talkin'
But everything is done, with a southern accent
Where I come from
-Tom Petty, "Southern Accents"

Also at W, I met the principal and got some documents for my American Public School written observation. He gave me the packet they give to all parents. I was hoping for something more internal and revealing, like a food service contract or a book requisition form, but I didn't want to be a nuisance, so I thanked him and left. Now all I have to do it find some way to write a page or so of insightful observation of one of the sheets from the packet. Yes.

It was nice that several of the kids gave me hugs today. One said, "I like you," for no reason and returned to his seat. When I came in, I heard someone say, "Yay! He's back!" I am aware that young kids' affection is pretty non-discriminatory and they naturally latch on to any older figure who isn't actively mean to them, but it's still nice.

Vocabulaire: un gueux

French vocabulary word

un gueux - a beggar

En dépit de sa puanteur envahissante, j'ai donné un sou au gueux crasseux.

Banned Books Week

This is the last day of Banned Books Week. Yes, I'm always the last one to jump on the banned wagon. Ha ha! I slay me! "Banned" wagon! Get it?

Ahem. Anyway, in a celebration of the fight against censorship of books, here is a meme that everyone can enjoy, and they don't even have to be invited. (Just ask Orac.) List the top 100 most frequently challenged books from the last decade, and indicate with boldface or whatever other method you prefer which ones you've read. You will, in so doing, have stuck it to the Man. Well, not really, but hell, it's something to do, isn't it? See how many subversive and wicked books you've read!

And here's my list.

1. Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
2. Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite
3. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
4. The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier - a very engrossing book about school bullying.
5. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain - anyone who wants to ban this is un-American. This is the one and only Great American Novel.
6. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck - hey, life's not fair sometimes. Read about it.
7. Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
8. Forever by Judy Blume
9. Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson - I don't remember much about this book, I read it so long ago, but I remember it being terribly sad.
10. Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
11. Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
12. My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
13. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger - I read this book at least eight times my freshman and sophomore years alone. Don't worry, though, I never had any desire to assassinate rock stars.
14. The Giver by Lois Lowry
15. It's Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
16. Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
17. A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
18. The Color Purple by Alice Walker
19. Sex by Madonna
20. Earth's Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
21. The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
22. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
23. Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
24. Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
25. In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
26. The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard - I agree that this series is not the most appropriate thing in the world for some early childhood kids. If you think that's the case, don't read it to them! Why do people feel the need to make decisions for other people too?
27. The Witches by Roald Dahl
28. The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
29. Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
30. The Goats by Brock Cole
31. Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
32. Blubber by Judy Blume - another one that tells about bullying and name-calling like it is, so "concerned adults" feel the need to stop all kids from hearing about it. Oh, but they'll live it, all right. They just can't read about it.
33. Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan - "If we allow this book in our libraries, soon all the kids will be killing their teachers, too! Won't somebody please think of the children?!?"
34. Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
35. We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
36. Final Exit by Derek Humphry
37. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
38. Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
39. The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
40. What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
41. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee - oh, no, we can't have kids reading that our justice system was at one time racist and corrupt! Heavens!
42. Beloved by Toni Morrison
43. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton - "If we allow this book in our libraries, soon all the kids will be engaging in gang wars!"
44. The Pigman by Paul Zindel - I remember reading this in school, sometime around the Renaissance. Isn't it a tale of social injustice, too? I sense a pattern here...
45. Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
46. Deenie by Judy Blume
47. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes - it's always scariest when the challenged book is an imaginary tale, like science fiction. That's when the censors' true colors show: they hate ideas.
48. Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
49. The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
50. Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
51. A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein - Light verse? In our classrooms??! With whimsical illustrations??! What's the world coming to?
52. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
53. Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
54. Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
55. Cujo by Stephen King
56. James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl - what kind of monster would allow children to read a book about a child who has a bad childhood and seeks refuge in a colossal fruit with a bunch of talking insects?
57. The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
58. Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
59. Ordinary People by Judith Guest
60. American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
61. What's Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
62. Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume - "For the last time, adolescence is not a period of trouble and insecurity! Stop writing these lying books that say it is!"
63. Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
64. Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
65. Fade by Robert Cormier
66. Guess What? by Mem Fox
67. The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende - I just recently read this, and it's one of the best novels I have ever read. I'm assuming it's challenged because it dares implicate America as a supporter of the cruel dictatorship that takes over in the book.
68. The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
69. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut - "Hey, war doesn't scar veterans! Especially WWII vets! They're the Greatest Generation, you know? WWII vets don't think of war as an atrocity! Who is this Vonnegut guy, some starry-eyed hippie conscientious objector?! What? He was there? Oh."
70. Lord of the Flies by William Golding - do the censors challenge this book because they think it's false that kids could degenerate so far so quickly in the absence of authority, or they're afraid that people will find out it's true?
71. Native Son by Richard Wright
72. Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women's Fantasies by Nancy Friday
73. Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
74. Jack by A.M. Homes
75. Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
76. Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
77. Carrie by Stephen King
78. Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
79. On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
80. Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
81. Family Secrets by Norma Klein
82. Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
83. The Dead Zone by Stephen King
84. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain - this is the other half of the Great American Novel.
85. Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
86. Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
87. Private Parts by Howard Stern
88. Where's Waldo? by Martin Hanford - um... what's the problem here? Are there tiny pornographic pictures hidden in those illustrations or something?
89. Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
90. Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman - yes, at one time this was considered appropriate for kids. I believe in portraying our history warts and all.
91. Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
92. Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
93. Sex Education by Jenny Davis
94. The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
95. Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
96. How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell - "If we allow this book in our libraries, soon all the kids will..." Oh, never mind.
97. The Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
98. The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
99. The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
100. Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier