Post by cyn########To my fellow Canucks,
(I know you're out there!)
Happy Canada Day!
Hope y'all have a good time.
cyn#
red and white shoes
=46rom the sister-region of Pacific Columbia: congratulations on the
anniversary of the Union! Know that, as always at this time of year,
the faint yet distinct strains of "Oh Canada!" are present (often on
the slightest of pretexts) in all American media outlets, and this
(again, as always) seems to quietly deepen and make meaningful the
ritual incantations and violence of the patriotic revels. (For some
more than others, perhaps.)
Just "joking." Or am I? Wait a minute...
w a i t a m i n u t e . . . =20
It *seems* to be... EL(tm), whirling to the rescue, using her (not
quite yet legendary, quite) Puns of Steel, G-Rated Vision, and Toes of
D'oh! to chase Uncle Sam's skinny passive-aggressive lily-white ass
back into the 19th century colonialist fantasy it came from. On the
other hand, it might be one of those patently inferior yet cleverly
marketed consumer products the American market is famous for abetting,
like Son King Butch, whose powers of Tribalbadic Teleportation and
Sapheek Superhearing may well be (though not without good reason)
oddly reminiscent of a certain toe-curling mythical urban herogyne.
Superheroes, in the dim and distant days before the genre blossomed so
profusely, were very archetypal. And, naturally, like the
relationship between Superdupermale and the "the Batman" of the
1930's, the descended-from-the-skies pristine inwincibility of the
former didn't coalesce into a mutuality of nemesis presented by the
shadowy origins and dubious netherworld motivations of the latter.
After WWII, when technology began to have a serious dark side not
really perceptible before, then your spidermans, your hulks, and your
various villains began to have their origins in technoaccidents. And
I will say nothing of the Just Us League, nor the gender of the Last
Real Superhero, nor the nationalistic implications of 'the good ol'
red, white, and black,' at least according to certain regional
American appetites."
And, once more, with a mysterious, confused smile, EL(tm) checks the
contents of her Utility Clutch Purse(tm), opens the door, and slips
past the shimmering folds of sunlight lapping at the shadows in the
trees surrounding her of Fortress of Babeitude, using her power of
Lunar Invisibility. Her Saphic Superhearing(tm) has alerted her to a
solitary Dyke, in the clutches of the nefarious Sun King Butch,
apparently taken in thrall while baying at the moon with a pack of
males, poor dear. Now her heart-rending shrieks of ecstatic delight
are barely audible in the world-wide whining, as she grows more and
more exhausted...
-
Rachelle
pink-ankled curtsy toes
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