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It's here

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What Chris forgot to add was the second half of this sentence, to wit:

"...and it's great."

Okay, maybe modesty forbids that, so I'll say/write it for her. I could also add that this story is inspiring, uplifting, and downright funny -- although Cat-Tales fans have come to expect the latter. And it's a wonderful rebuff to the insanity that has blackened the streets of Gotham City since Miller and co. (though, to be honest, J'accuse Denny O'Neill of starting it) were allowed to besmirch characters who once were considered heroes.

Why people like that sort of thing is beyond me, but I always wanted to be able to look up to my heroes and aspire to at least partially imitate them. These days, it seems, egged on by such works of "art" as TDKR, heroism and nobility of spirit is considered uncool and boring -- well, my opinion of that is unprintable. Thank heavens for the few authors and artists who strive to maintain the ideal.

And Chris is in that number. I could wish that the writers of Batman, Superman and other iconic characters who have been warped by the confused, marketing-driven storylines of recent years, could be sat down and told to read Cat-Tales the series, and this story in particular. They might, were they able to overcome their blinkered prejudices, learn something about character, about humour and about heroism.

I doubt that it would ever happen, though, but one can dream...

This story made an excellent counterpoint to my discovery on the web of most of the text of Elliot S! Maggin's Superman novels, Last Son of Krypton and Miracle Monday. I had the former in book form, but not the latter, and it was a real pleasure to be able to read it; Maggin was probably the writer as far as the pre-Crisis Superman went. Then I find Pussywhipped... well, it made my day to find a Batman (and Catwoman) to match ES!M's Supes. Just as well, 'cuz I got a rotten weekend coming up!

Thanks, Chris.

Chris,

I wouldn't worry about being too hard on people like Miller and co. I doubt they'd notice or care; after all, if you can't appreciate their work, you must be an uncultured peasant, just the way the droogs say you are. </sarcasm>

What they, the droogs, and all the other litter-a-ture (note spelling ) types out there who worship at the altar of "realism" and decry anything featuring characters who aren't sick, twisted, psychotic, corrupt, etc., etc., as "mere" escapism, and therefore unworthy of "serious" attention, do not realise, or do not like, is this:

People want heroes.

People need heroes.

They want someone, whether mythical or real, to look up to, to set an example for them, to aspire to be like -- to tell them that life down in the mud, so beloved of the escapism-haters, is not all there is; that things can be better, and will be better if enough of us strive to make it so.

With that in mind, both real people and fictional characters get put on pedestals, held up to the light as examples of what a human being can be and a symbol of everything I describe above.

And then there's the reaction -- two of them, actually, both very human. The first one, exemplified by Miller and co., is what, where I come from, is known as the "tall poppy syndrome": someone or something stands out above the rest, so cut it down "to size" -- blacken his, her or its name and reputation, make it out to be insane, evil or sick; basically, show that it doesn't really deserve to be up there after all, because it's just as bad as the rest of "us." I use the quotes because some of these people really believe that everyone is equally bad, however good we may be at hiding it -- and that includes you and I, and everyone who reads this.

The second reaction is to resent the mud-slinging. To say that it's wrong, that the mud-slingers are wrong, and that they should stop trying to drag us all down to their preferred level, because we don't like it there and don't want to stay there, if we ever were there in the first place. I say "we" here for the obvious reason that those who write to you and those who love Cat-Tales and its basic principles are showing this reaction: we want a Batman who, however obsessed with his mission, is a true hero, and not a psychotic madman every bit as bad as the villains he protects his city from; we want a Catwoman who is not a victim of abuse, who is smart, sassy, sexy (and proud of it!) and is the perfect match for her Bat -- and man. We want a Bat-clan who respect their mentor and inspiration, but don't walk in fear of him, and who are competent, capable individuals in their own right as well as allies of the Bat.

In short, we want light in the shadows of Gotham, and our bats and cats in the sky, not stuck in the mud -- metaphorically speaking, in case I'm guessing events from the forthcoming road-trip. And that is what you're giving us, Chris, and we're thankful for it; now, if only we could drive it home to the DC Bat editorial group, because they have much to answer for in promoting the Miller view of Gotham -- which, frankly, stinks as badly as the mud they want to mire it in.