Superman, Batman and Spider-Man: How Murdering Loss Creates Comic Book Character

Over the holiday break, I decided to watch the newest Superman movie and I was certainly disappointed in the silly story, the rebooting of the franchise, and the awful acting of the lead character.  Superman should be wily, and funny, and tough.  He never preens.

It’s always boring when movie production houses feel they have to re-start a story that’s been never-endingly told for generations.  We pretty much know the backstory of Superman and we don’t need to re-live, over and over again, every 10 years or so, just how the star child becomes the Superman on earth.

In my short life, I think I’ve lived through at least a dozen iterations of Superman in film and on television and I would be perfectly fine to have a new Superman just appear in media res.  We get it he’s special and Superhuman, so just drop him in and let the story start with no explanation necessary!

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Animal Love: Binding Both Ways

The connection between our animals and us can be an incredibly strong and tenacious tether.  When we lose a good friend — who just happens to be a pet — we begin a grieving process that can, at times, feel painful and never-ending.

What about the other side of the grieving dyad?  Do our animal friends miss us when we die?  As I was pondering that question, I happened upon this image someone posted on Facebook:  A dog despondent in sorrow and collapsed on what appears to be the fresh grave of his human friend.  It’s a touching image that speaks to the deep connection we share with our animal comrades.

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Life is Loss: We are Our Deficits

As we continue to mourn the death of Dr. Howard Stein, we are left to ponder the joy of knowing him and, in missing him, we begin the healing process by remembering the important lessons he taught us.

One of the most poignant conversations I had with him in the last few weeks of his life dealt with age and growing older.  Howard reversed an important expectation for me, and I appreciate the reality of that sobering.

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The Genesis of Wisdom

How do we become wise?  Is wisdom a gift, or is wisdom something practiced and acquired?  Does wisdom know any age?  Can a five-year-old child ever be wiser than someone who has lived 85 years?

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The Loss of the Immigrant Mind

The USA is losing its immigrant mind!  The landed have traditionally helped build America into what it is today:  A great mosaic of thoughts, colors and dreams.  Today, because of punishing politics and a shrinking world, Harvard University reports immigrants are returning to their homeland instead of building a better life in the USA.  An entire generation of immigrants is giving up on their American Dream and I’m not sure if we can blame them for the departure.

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Marie Osmond: Eat Something!

We all know Marie Osmond has an obsessive-compulsive nature.  We’ve seen the results of her overeating and her over-dancing.

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Why Bother Saving?

Friends are crumbling with ruined savings and lost pensions.  Strangers are in distress.  The world is bleeding money.  A good friend of mine, a hardworking, responsible widow in her late Sixties, told me yesterday that she’s ruined.  All her money retirement money was lost in the slow decline of the financial markets.  She spread out her risk, but she still got crushed.  She has some savings left, but she cannot afford to live the quiet, easy, life she wanted before she dies.

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Betting on a Two Million Dollar Flop

Is it better, as an author, to make a solid $50,000 on a book and have a tremendous success in the marketplace?

Or is it better to get a $2 million advance on a book and have it die on the vine of public prosperity and to have it slashed by the critics?

Is success for an author measured in popularity or by the pocketbook?

The Naked Woe is Me Diet

A good friend of mine told me yesterday she lost 63 pounds in 90 days with the following diet plan. She would take off all her clothes in the morning and stand in front of a full-length mirror and yell at her fat body: “I hate you!” Then she’d shower, eat a small meal, get dressed and go to work — eat nothing for lunch — and when she returned home at night she would repeat her morning naked “I hate you!” ritual before she had a sensible dinner. She found success in her quest to lose weight.

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For My Father

by Noemi Szadeczky-Kardoss

Dad!

For the first time in my life, I don’t know which way to go.

When I was little, it was easy. I just had to follow the arrows, and they lead me to you. You drew them on the sidewalks with white chalk so that I would find my way from the playground to your workplace. Do you remember? You used to let me play as long as I wanted, but you never stayed with me. The work couldn’t wait, you used to say. But before you left, you always made sure the arrows were still visible on the sidewalks. If the rain had washed them away, you drew them again.

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