Superman, in the middle of a Lex Luthor crisis, is simply nowhere to be found. The citizens of Metropolis, after taking a little while to really absorb that he’s not coming to bail them out, find reserves of determination and ingenuity they didn’t know they had; with the aid of a clever ruse and a computer virus, they take down Lex Luthor and manage to get him into some sort of super-prison like Hannibal Lector.
After it’s all over, Superman comes back and holds a press conference to explain his dereliction of duty. He explains that most of the real problems facing humanity aren’t things he can solve. They’re facing global warming, the death of the oceans and the Amazon, the threat of fascism and nuclear war. What’s he supposed to do? Fly up in space and personally maintain a little fleet of reflector panels? Run around disarming the nukes when someone tries to drop one? He could. But, that’s not the way. Eventually, something will come up that he’s not capable to solve. He says, more or less: You always had the capability to help yourselves; the issue is, you’re not doing it. The problems I can solve for you are actually pretty trivial compared to the problems you’re causing for yourselves.
He says: Humanity, you need to get your shit together. My planet died because the will to recognize and solve the problems wasn’t there. My home’s gone, and it’s not coming back. Clearly my race didn’t have the answer, and now they’re functionally extinct. That’s the future for you, too, unless you choose a different path. I’m not going to feed into the comforting lie that someone from outside is going to save you. They’re not.
Good luck. This is my home now, too, so in all sincerity, please don’t fuck it up like my people did. God bless.
And then he walks off the stage amid a hubbub of questions.
Superman, in the middle of a Lex Luthor crisis, is simply nowhere to be found. The citizens of Metropolis, after taking a little while to really absorb that he’s not coming to bail them out, find reserves of determination and ingenuity they didn’t know they had; with the aid of a clever ruse and a computer virus, they take down Lex Luthor and manage to get him into some sort of super-prison like Hannibal Lector.
After it’s all over, Superman comes back and holds a press conference to explain his dereliction of duty. He explains that most of the real problems facing humanity aren’t things he can solve. They’re facing global warming, the death of the oceans and the Amazon, the threat of fascism and nuclear war. What’s he supposed to do? Fly up in space and personally maintain a little fleet of reflector panels? Run around disarming the nukes when someone tries to drop one? He could. But, that’s not the way. Eventually, something will come up that he’s not capable to solve. He says, more or less: You always had the capability to help yourselves; the issue is, you’re not doing it. The problems I can solve for you are actually pretty trivial compared to the problems you’re causing for yourselves.
He says: Humanity, you need to get your shit together. My planet died because the will to recognize and solve the problems wasn’t there. My home’s gone, and it’s not coming back. Clearly my race didn’t have the answer, and now they’re functionally extinct. That’s the future for you, too, unless you choose a different path. I’m not going to feed into the comforting lie that someone from outside is going to save you. They’re not.
Good luck. This is my home now, too, so in all sincerity, please don’t fuck it up like my people did. God bless.
And then he walks off the stage amid a hubbub of questions.
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