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Marvel

| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #47

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

Down With Paragraphs

It’s good to see you again, it’s been a while, jibber-jabber, jibber-jabber, it’s good to be back, you look great, obviously! 

But hey, let’s get to the point:

My new stance on paragraphs: I’ve been painstakingly formatting Weekly Post-Eds with indentations since this website began, but I’m slowly coming to understand this is NOT the preferred formatting on the rest of the internet. And, I already knew that before indenting, but I’m doing away with it for the pain-in-the-ass reason that not all browsers/viewing experiences mesh well with indentations. Sometimes indentations appear correctly, like so:

            “Hey, I’m a happy indented line! Don’t I look nice and formatted?”

But other times sentences look like this:

                                                            “What the hell happened here, Robert? Why are you starting in the middle of the page? What in the f*** is wrong with—”

You get the point. So, for the next while I’m joining the ranks of the rest of the internet and nixing paragraph indentations. It’s a test run, but I’m assuming it will stick around.

Ironically, in my personal writings, I never indent paragraphs. Funny how I do the opposite when presenting my writing.

Anyway, onto more indentation-less goodies.

***

She-Hulk Thoughts

The latest experiment from the Disney+ Marvel Cinematic Universe was another attempt to improve the streaming service television formula. She-Hulk: Attorney at Law followed the sagas of Moon Knight, Loki, WandaVision, and Hawkeye, as each carved out a niche with their respective heroes and furthered the debate about what works and what does not within the scope of MCU limited series.

She-Hulk: Attorney at Law used a gimmick that no other show could, something that is inspired from the comic books: breaking the fourth wall. Jennifer Walters often speaks directly to us, the audience, about the state of things (the show, characters, lazy storylines, etc). Whereas breaking the fourth wall isn’t a new invention (especially with the recent duo of movies featuring Deadpool that did it so well), I couldn’t help but notice something was different about this iteration of the theatrical technique. Breaking the fourth wall wasn’t so much about addressing the audience or being socially aware of tropes within the superhero medium in this show; there was something else going on.

That’s why I waited to write anything about She-Hulk until after the show concluded. 

The show featured a refreshingly female take on the world of superheroes and what it means to be marginalized and stereotyped as another “Hulk figure”, something that mirrored the arduous and infinitely frustrating journey of being a woman in modern day America. Jennifer Walters combatted what the world thought of her, warping her own perceptions through a lens of pop-culture, modern gender roles, and exceptionalism (as well as the ugly underbelly of internet message forums that seeks to defame or destroy women entirely). 

The series was 9-episodes long, most of which were frustratingly comical or situational. “Where is this going?” I found myself saying to my computer monitor during the credits of each building storyline. There wasn’t a main villain, no obvious thread that connected to the movie universe, nor was there any discernable urgency for Jennifer Walters to overcome some mounting problem. I felt I was watching “a day in the life” of the protagonist as she assailed issues from all sides of the feminine spectrum.

I was frustrated, but I would come to understand that the seeming monotony and subtlety of the series was playing into the overall message of the show. 

And by the finale, everything would pay off in spades.

The finale of She-Hulk: Attorney at Law is one of the best I’ve ever seen in television. My earlier intuition that fourth wall breaking was leading to something more came true in the most visceral sense. The climax of the finale featured the usual mashup of characters, all combatting one another in a stereotypical and unfulfilling superhero fashion.

Until She-Hulk breaks the fourth wall a final time, literally breaking out of the Disney+ show.

Jennifer Walters was finished with the restraints that every other MCU streaming show has encountered until this point. It was a proverbial rite of passage to break free of formula and superhero tropes. The screen froze, She-Hulk surveyed the Disney+ desktop main menu, and enters another show to demand answers for why her show has been so directionless and kische.

I won’t spoil the rest. It’s a wonderful half-hour of television. Most importantly, I found that the monotony I was experiencing was purposeful, a slow realization that the subtle irritations Jennifer Walters faced on her journey were the public expectations of comic book fans from the internet, and also men with patriarchal views about outdated gender roles, and the total absurdity of finding true belonging in a world that wishes to pull a person a million different directions for the sake of fitting into an outdated and worn paradigm—even the superhero cliché. 

Ultimately, the show was asking how anyone (primarily women) can find their place in the world, one that makes sense and is liberating?

It’s a question that women face in nearly every facet of life, something that She-Hulk: Attorney at Law showed a glimpse of through the guise of a superpowered Hulk lady.

This was the best television show yet from Marvel Studios. I enjoyed the risk-taking and breaking of old formulas. It’s an exciting place to find the MCU exploring, and I can’t wait to see what other issues can be worked into the fabric of new characters. 

I’ll be rewatching She-Hulk: Attorney at Law. It’s the first time I felt that way about a Marvel Disney+ show thus far. Well done!

***

The Merry Blokes of Merry Wives

“The Merry Wives of Windsor” @ Grand Valley State University

Theater departments are doing the best they can. That’s the first thing to understand when attending student productions at any university. Some are better than others, but I often find that the ones that present student struggles give the most to talk about.

Before it appears that I’m a total duschbag to the handful of Grand Valley State University theater students that are polishing their acting chops on the stage, this is not my intention. I was a horrible actor in college (let’s be honest, things haven’t exactly improved with age in that department) and I understand it takes many at-bats to figure out what the hell to do with any character. I’m not criticizing the students…

But the Director on the other hand? Oh, let’s talk about those creative choices.

The play I saw last weekend was “The Merry Wives of Windsor”, a Shakespearean comedy about the sneaky exploits of the wives of the male protagonists too enmeshed in their own egos to see they are being easily manipulated. It’s a wonderful play and I enjoyed this viewing thoroughly enough.

Except for two reasons characters.

Shallow (a character given the modern makeover as leather-jacketed preacher) carries an entirely INCOMPREHENSIBLE Scottish accent. My date and I ratioed that we understood 1 in 5 words. Secondly, Doctor Caius is often portrayed as a bumbling Frenchman. This rendition, however, featured a French accent that often slipped into German pronunciations, then trailing into potentially Swedish accents. Needless to say, Doctor Caius had just as poor delivery as Shallow.

When the inevitable occurred and the two characters vomited lines of Shakespearean dialogue at one another in a scene featuring only those two cantankerous actors, it was pure drivel.

I don’t blame the students donning their roles. I blame the decision to give these actors the direction of being incomprehensible in a play by William Shakespeare, perhaps the greatest wordsmith in the English language! It was like the Louvre opting to paint lines over the Mona Lisa, or playing a laugh track over Beethoven’s “9thSymphony”.

Just…why?

After a few days of pondering, I think I know why these incomprehensible characters were allowed to gallivant the stage in this fashion.

And I think it gives a modern lesson: sometimes a car wreck is the most effective entertainment.

It was certainly that on a cold fall evening on GVSU’s Allendale campus.

As Shakespeare once commented on his own works: “Suck on that, Bard. I’ll say it how I want.”

(No, he did not say this.)

***

I’ve been listening to an entire album by Sure Sure called the “Lonely One” EP. It’s another solid release by a band that generates danceable hits and deep digs and themes with their music. Below is the track listing. Be sure to check out “Facc” “This Time” and “Funky Galileo”, some new favorites of mine.

“Lonely” EP by Sure Sure
  1. “Lonely One”
  2. “123”
  3. “Facc”
  4. “This Time”
  5. “Peaceful In My Mind”
  6. “Funky Galileo”
  7. “Receive”

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #38

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

A MARVELOUS CULTURAL DISPLAY

After contemplating why I write semi/sort-of reviews of Marvel properties, I have to ask aloud: is it because I spent five hours making this week’s Weekly Post-Ed graphic in the style of the Disney+ show Ms. Marvel (you read that correctly, FIVE HOURS), does that mean I must write something even if I don’t have anything unique to say about the television series?

I think the answer is yes; I really enjoyed making the logo. Go ahead, scroll up and take another look, just for me. Yup, that’s five hours well spent, I’d say!

            My new favorite attraction to every Disney+ Marvel show is being taken on a personal tour of a given culture or people or idea. In Moon Knight, we were given a tour of Egyptian culture and gods, culminating in a final adventure that spanned across the sands of Egypt. In WandaVision, the grieving process was studied through a powerful witch who manipulated a small town into becoming different eras of television symbolizing the Five Stages of Grief. 

            And now, we have the MCU’s latest show, Ms. Marvel, which draws heavily from Muslim culture in America and what it means to retain heritage while forging one’s own identity in a new place. The show followed a similar structure as Moon Knight as we eventually traveled with Kamala to her grandmother’s home in Pakistan where she solved a family mystery as well as why her powers stem from the ancient bangle that acts as catalyst for her marvelous superpowers.

            Ms. Marvel is dense with Muslim culture, ranging from the graffiti art opening credits that also pay homage to the original comic illustrations, to the music that not only sets a tone for modern Muslim influences for the show but also ties into the theming of each episode. So much of the series took place in a modern Muslim household, not only acting as a window to a world that many of us have never considered, but showed, like any culture, how loving and connected family is to our own sense of identity, even while forging it in our tumultuous teenage years.

            Criticism of story and plot aside, I enjoyed each episode and gained a greater appreciation for the world that Kamala (Ms. Marvel) comes from.

            Ok, now for some criticism.

            Can we please stop making police and/or government officials idiots in television shows? Granted, it can be argued that real world government agents act no differently, but I like a formidable foe in my fiction. Since a government agency is the villain in this show (really, it is), they need to be better at being competent. Highlights of inept police work include: 

  • A car pulls up and helps the hero escape, driving off with squealing tires down an abandoned road—and no agents seem to notice.
  • Escaping through a loud, metal door when other characters are in the act of being arrested at gunpoint by the police—and no one notices the door closing with a loud thud as our heroes escape.
  • Missing every shot fired from advanced weapon systems as our heroes escape unscathed around corners, ducking underneath falling debris.

            I understand this is a relatively low stakes show in which teenagers are meant to win against the big/bad governmental agents abusing their power, but there must be a better way of showing this other than having the same police pratfalls as an episode of RENO 911. Not only do I roll my eyes at every stereotype reinforced by snobbish portrayals of governmental authority abusing power, but that the cops are not well-trained at catching the Scooby-Doo equivalent of “Those meddling kids!”, it only adds to the middle finger thrown to the audience in place of real conflict and tension in the show. 

            This is where Marvel Studios can do better. I’m still a believer in things taking time to get better (the first season of Parks and Recreation a prime example), and Marvel has yet to master a winning formula for their online shows. And perhaps six episodes just isn’t enough to put into place a structure that makes the audience care about the villains as much as the heroes. It was just revealed at San Diego Comic-Con that a new Daredevil series will be releasing in 2024 and has an 18-episode arc; maybe that’s something to consider in properly delivering a show that is as satisfying as the movies seem to be, budgets notwithstanding.

            But I found there’s more reasons to watch Ms. Marvel other than implications for future stories from the MCU. From Kamala’s parents and family to her friends and community, to the locales and music and wardrobe of the show, all of it was fascinating and worth sitting down for six episodes to enjoy something new and yet familiar.

            Just like Ms. Marvel herself.

***

THE SHAPE OF AN “L” ON HIS FOREHEAD

            

A Dreamcatcher

            Has anyone ever had a dreamcatcher on their wall as a kid, and still had a nightmare, and upon waking up from the nightmare with a cold sweat and a few lingering images from that horrifying experience say aloud,

            “Wow, I should have believed harder that my dreamcatcher actually works. If I believe hard enough, I wouldn’t get any nightmares.”

            If this kind of idiocy describes you, then let me introduce Clark Kegley, the only YouTube content creator I’ve lost respect for immediately after one video.

            If you’ve ever clicked on a Self-Help video on YouTube, you’ve just acquired a sort of algorithm herpes. One click on a self-help guru (even worse on mobile if you linger for too long over a thumbnail and the video auto-plays *cringe*) and you’re bound to get these videos popping up in your feed all the time. I call it a YouTube Outbreak; and the only cure is to ONLY watch things that you want popping up in your feed for a period of months before the outbreak can clear up.

            And I liked Clark Kegley. Initially. He seemed like a good dude even if he sported a greasy mustache, slicked hair combo…but I suppose he’s emphasizing that masculine look that many men look for in their “worldly” self-help gurus, so more power to him.

            The video I first saw of Kegley was about his quest to divulge the top three lessons he gleaned from reading over 300 self-help books. Sadly, the top advice was not, “Stop reading self-help books,” which, in my experience, would have been the most useful. Instead, Kegley spoke about waiting for permission and how we often seek exoneration (from work, from a needy spouse/family, time constraints and other responsibilities) before starting something, how we remain sentimental to the idea of change (understand it without true action—which requires sacrifice, something most of us are not willing to give), and forgiveness in terms of others and ourselves so that we can move on.

            It wasn’t groundbreaking (self-help videos never are) but I thought Kegley had some interesting ideas to share.

            Then, the algorithm herpes of Kegley videos and others like his kept surfacing.

            Soon, I was scrolling past swaths of celebrity commencement speeches, the everlasting advice of Steve Jobs, what Elon Musk’s diet was as a child that led to his founding SpaceX…just a constant stream of “I’ll help you improve your life if only you subscribe to my channel,” nonsense.

            Usually, I’m fine ignoring videos (especially the YouTube self-help guru crowd that lives entirely on saturation of their own videos – cranking out as many as possible – and growing their subscriber numbers—which seems counterintuitive; if your videos are helping people, shouldn’t your subscriber numbers decline since they no longer need your services? Just a thought), but eventually one of Kegley’s appeared that raised an eyebrow. It was titled:

            How to MANIFEST A Text INSTANTLY from a SPECIFIC Person.

            If you’re wondering why I’m not linking the video here, I refuse to give this man extra views after having watched it. If interested (and I know you are, you industrious internet connoisseur), you’ll find it on your own.

            Basically, the video says this:

            (Paraphrasing): “Here are the three steps to make anyone think of you and message you back. Anyone. No matter what your relationship is with them.

  1. Fill your head with positive thoughts, only good ones.
  2. Write the name of the person you want contacting you with your finger on the glass of your phone. Over and over and over again.
  3. Wait. Within three days, maybe four, you’ll get a message from them.”

            Kegley proudly summarizes, “I guarantee that this works, guys!”

            First, no it doesn’t. And I know it doesn’t because coincidences do not count as mysticality. There has been literally thousands of years of research and philosophy disseminating similar belief systems. If you’re not hearing back from your father, in Kegley’s case, because he “never” contacts you first and suddenly does…the event was still possible because there was still a basis to get ahold of you even without this so-called “Manifestation”. It may be unlikely that your father does text first, but it isn’t out of the realm of possibility since a.) he is your dad and is, therefore, invested in your existence, and b.) has the means of contacting you in the first place.

            If I am secretly in love with Emma Watson, the actress, it doesn’t mean that I can write her name on my phone and expect a text from her at some point in the future. The same goes for Anna Kendrick, Elizabeth Olson, and, to a lesser degree, Pedro Pascal (because let’s face it: he’s a lovely man and bends the curvature of heterosexuality in men if left stranded on a desert island, not ashamed to admit that) and anyone else I’m trying to think of that might have a phone I could develop a psychic connection with.

            And while this idea of writing someone’s name on a phone screen is objectively stupid, the part that drove me to write about this guy was the end of the video.

            Kegley says, (paraphrasing, because I refuse to rewatch the video to properly quote): “If it doesn’t work after three days, it means you just have to do it over. But guys, I’m telling you if you’re NOT BELIEVING HARD ENOUGH, it won’t work. You have to believe in this, 100%. And if you aren’t believing in this entirely, you won’t get results…”

            That’s why this guy deserves a shot taken at his content. It’s the old: “It’s not my fault my made-up thing is the dumbest idea and doesn’t work because I made it up, it’s because you just didn’t try hard enough!”

A KEKW laugh

            While it’s an old formula to gaslight a victim that it is their fault for why something isn’t working (I think religions of the world call the same process imbedding guilt, but that’s a different brand altogether), it should evoke a KEKW laugh from everyone who encounters it. Every time.

            But after some deliberation about posting this segment (because I don’t like tearing specific people apart on a personal website, not when I can be vague and clever about something and pass it off as fine writing), I have to admit that Kegley’s method of writing on the glass of a phone with a finger does work to some degree. For example, whenever I happen upon another of Kegley’s videos, I write the shape of an “L” on his forehead (yes, from the famous Smashmouth song), and it turns out to be true!

            And I can only surmise it’s because I BELIEVE hard enough that it is.

            In a way, Kegley’s videos really have helped move my life along. But now that they have, I can unsubscribe.

            The YouTube Outbreak is over, I can go back to living my life again.

            Speaking of, think Emma Watson will really message me if I keep writing her name with my finger on my phone screen?

            I guess there’s only one way to find out…

***

  1. “Paths in the Sky” by Metric
  2. “Brass Band” by Jukebox the Machine
  3. “W.I.F.I.” by Wildermiss

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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| Weekly Post-Eds |

Weekly Post-Ed #34

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

MOONLIGHTING

            Watching the latest Marvel Disney+ series has become a weekly staple. WandaVision and Loki were experimental in ways that helped bolster the Marvel Cinematic Universe and expanded upon ideas that helps set up movies in ways that, perhaps, were not going to go over well if entirely introduced through films alone. Every little bit helps, especially with a concept like the Multiverse, and a rendition of explanations for how it all stems together (time travel, multiple selves, multiple realities, and the consequences of traveling from one to the other) makes it all a bit easier to swallow.

            If your head is spinning from that paragraph alone, then wait, there’s more.

            Moon Knight is a show that follows the superhero exploits of a man suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) or commonly known as multiple personalities. Oscar Isaac plays two completely different characters mashed into one: the English-speaking Steven Grant, and the former mercenary Marc Spector who is responsible for donning the cape and cowl of the Moon Knight avatar in the first place.

            Oh, and not to mention that Moon Knight is endowed with the powers of the Egyptian god Khonshu, a 10-foot tall skeletal bird wrapped in mummy cloth and wielding a giant crescent staff.

            What floored me about the show was Oscar Isaac’s versatility. It was easy to care for Steven Grant, the personality imbued with goodness and someone down on his luck, the character we begin the show following. And when the supernatural occurs (Egyptian creatures chasing after the unlucky Steven Grant) it was easy to like Marc Spector, the typical hero type with a messy, violent skillset and scarred past to heal from. Both sets of characters complimented the other and were eventually forced to work together in order to defeat a bigger threat—yet another Egyptian god shaped like a anthropomorphic crocodile/lady named Ammit and her biggest follower, Arthur Harrow (as played by the great Ethan Hawk).

            The show builds around the mystery of how one personality (Steven Grand and Marc Spector) of hides from the other and just what happens when the two are forced to confront one another. In the greatest episode of the series, Marc and Steven are two separate entities attempting to escape death (or, really, an asylum designed by either Steven and Marc in order to cope with the realities of sharing a body between two completely separate personalities). It’s the deepest dive yet into the idea of self love, that even a made-up coping mechanism such as a personality (Steven Grant, it turns out) can be just as formidable and important as our original self, and that there can be love shared between the two. 

            My biggest gripe with the show is that the final episode felt rushed. A climax needed to take place with lots of action – and there was plenty with more Moon Knight fight scenes, giant kaiju battles between Egyptian gods, and another superhero borne from the action (whom I will not spoil) – and it felt like forty minutes was devoted to raising the ante. Maybe there was a question if the show could rebound with the previous episode being entirely devoted to the uncovering of backstory and the origins of Marc Specter and Steven Grant, but I think more trust needed to be placed in the two coming out of that headspace. Also, it was a heartbreaker that Ethan Hawk’s character, Harrow, was essentially tossed aside once the “true ” villain of the show emerged–a bit of an antithetical Dias Ex Machima in my opinion–I would have liked to see Harrow in the driver’s seat of his own actions and dealing with the consequences.

            It just felt like the show was over and quickly. I wish there had been another act to put everything to rest.

            But I suppose there will be a Moon Knight Season 2, so why give away all the tricks in a single run of the show? This certainly accounts for the twist ending in which [REDACTED] happens. Crazy, I know.

            Moon Knight was a very enjoyable watch. I’m always surprised and delighted at the subject matter Marvel explores with every new show, each new character. It truly is a big universe out there with the MCU, one that seems to never stop expanding.

***

DATES AND DETAILS #3

The Online Irish Goodbye

            Since dating apps bear no real consequences when it comes to messaging someone, there’s often a lot of ghosting (people who suddenly stop responding). Can you really blame anyone, though? Most ghosting isn’t malicious or intended to hurt anyone; it is just the result of too much volume. When matching with others, you aren’t waiting around for ONE specific person to reply. No, you’re casting a wide net and trying to get as many bites back as you can. This inevitably leads to many conversations going on at once, and in many cases, you just don’t have the conversational bandwidth to keep up.

            Some people get left behind. Or, that too much effort is required to keep the conversation going in the first place (ie. People who don’t ask questions, who don’t offer up details about their lives, and it makes it hard to comment–yeah, a little help on the other end would be nice).

            Conversations trail away and that’s just the way of online dating. Hey, people lead busy lives, what do you expect?

            But there’s another form of ghosting that’s unilaterally nasty in my opinion—and that’s un-matching someone without notice.

            In my experience, here are the only times to un-match with someone:

  1. After a consistent record of offensive comments has been said and the most viable option is to disconnect.
  2. It’s been a long time since any interaction has taken place, which likely means no date is imminent anyway.
  3. Ghosting by the other person and it’s been more than a week.

These scenarios make sense to drop someone.

            However, there are conversations I’ve had where someone un-matches MID-CONVERSATION. As in the three bubbles of someone typing their reply is on screen and suddenly…

            POOF!

            Un-Matched.

            So, why is this happening?

            Since people are not altogether menacing (in my experiences), I don’t think the intention is to hurt anyone. Rather, un-matching is probably about circumstances rather than the person (maybe she realized you live far away and didn’t realize it before, or he has a political/religious view or job that doesn’t mesh well with your lifestyle, etc). 

            Either way, the conversation ends the same way and that’s with a complete lack of saying goodbye.

            …which is kind of a rotten thing to do to someone, even by online standards.

            No one is obligated in the modern age to be cordial or kind on the internet. You don’t have to “officially” end anything with a line-in-the-sand statement to say it is over, but I think it does say something about the person who DOES the considerate thing and braves a little honesty. I think it speaks to how upstanding and aware of boundaries the person is, and I often come away respecting those who would say a brief, “Hey, sorry, but it’s not going to work out between us.”

            Of course, it’s easier NOT TO DO ANY OF THAT and, instead, give the ol’ Online Irish Goodbye where people just leave mid-conversation.

            But it is a bit strange. Even in real life.

            Have you ever experienced the Irish Goodbye? At party, say? Maybe you’ve been talking to someone, even platonically, and it’s going pretty well. You’re laughing. They’re laughing. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. And then this person just up and leaves??? You wonder what was wrong with that person. Why would leave without saying goodbye or having the decency to come up with a convincing lie?

            EVEN THE LIE IS MORE CONSIDERATE THAN JUST DISAPPEARING!

            Which is why, whenever I get the Ol’ Online Irish Goodbye, I come up with my own cover stories for those that suddenly disappear.

            So, Erin, let me just say this:

            “It’s ok, I get it. You’ve got a long history of OCD and when you see a stray dog from your cheap apartment window, you have to race after it, even at the cost of running into traffic and causing major accidents on rural roads (there were a fair few reported last week in the Grand Rapids area, please be forward and say you caused them, ok?). I know you wanted to check in with our pretty great conversation we were having, but the Sergeant in charge at the police station realized someone like you shouldn’t be dating, and immediately Un-Matched with me. He said it was for my own good. And you know? I have to agree.

            “So, Erin, this comes from the bottom of my heart (so you know it’s true): I am definitely too good for you and it was the right decision to disappear without a trace. Best of luck, and may all dogs escape your psychopathic need to chase after them into oncoming traffic.

            “Keep well (and properly medicated going forward).”

            Robert

***

  1. “This Time” by Sure Sure
  2. “CHAMPAGNE” by Valley
  3. “Honey” by Abhi The Nomad

***

Wishing everyone as well as you can. You’re not alone out there,

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Weekly Post-Ed #27

by Robert Hyma
written by Robert Hyma

MAGICALLY MISCHIEVOUS

            I seldom write about my day job which is that of a preschool teacher. A myriad of interesting storylines happens each day (I could write a book about it and likely will, one day), but to remain topical in celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day this past week, I’ll recant one of the more fascinating classroom celebrations: a visit from a Leprechaun.

            Like Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny, preschool teachers help propagate the mythology that there are magical beings out there in the world that, apparently, need to interact with children. Except Leprechauns are quickly adored and then hated for their shenanigans. I’ll explain.

            In class, teachers read books about Leprechauns, usually something like Leprechaun On the Loose by Marcia Thornton Jones and illustrated by Cyd Moore, which depicts a waist-high, green-coated little person causing all sorts of trouble: making messes, licking the frosting off of cupcakes, and placing the blame on some clueless kiddo who is then scolded for causing all the damages. The book leads to the Leprechaun being caught (as they all must be, apparently) wherein we learn of two choices:

            1. Keep the little guy in your sights and show the world that they do, in fact, exist.

OR

            2. Make a deal to let him go and keep a pile of treasure as a reward.

            (All kids choose the treasure over showing the world that Leprechauns exist, which I always find intriguing. I always thought this meant kids were aware of the hassle of tying up a hostage in order to make sure he doesn’t escape—as even 4-year-olds realize how difficult it is to wrongfully detain someone for long periods for fame or an exchange of funds.

            …But the real answer is that kids will give up most anything for shiny, glimmering cold coins.)

            With the story read, the kids go home in anticipation for if a Leprechaun visits the classroom on Saint Patrick’s Day.

            A Leprechaun always does. And makes a huge mess.

            Chairs are flipped over, green footprints line the walls, lockers, and bathroom toilet. Glitter is littered everywhere in the room (to the chagrin of custodial staff in the building). The traps that were set (a couple of painted cardboard boxes with a stick propping them upright and a string to spring the trap closed) are flipped over, tossed aside like nothing, not one capable of catching our vandalizing Leprechaun.

            The gag is that we teachers tour the classroom, taking stock of what damage the little green guy dealt. Then, we all clean up the mess, and the kids are quick to realize what makes Leprechauns their least favorite of magical creatures:

            The mess needs cleaning up, and guess who gets to help?

            That’s right: the kids.

            Quickly, the classroom of excited children turns into an angry mob, spewing smut and shaming the Leprechaun for causing such a headache.

            “I hate leprechauns!” proclaims a little girl.

            “If that leprechaun comes in this classroom again, I’m going to punch him in the face,” says the one boy in my room predisposed to solving EVERY issue with a punch to the face or worse.

            “Why did he make a mess of our classroom” Another little boy asks as he tries to sweep up glitter from our rubberized tile flooring (a task too herculean even for us teachers).

            As a reward for our foiled attempts to catch the Leprechaun, we are given chocolate coins in golden foil and a lot of green-frosted cupcakes with shamrock candies on top. There’s often a note left behind that the leprechaun has written, teasing the kids for being incapable of catching him.

            “Tee hee hee! You see? I knew you’d never catch me! But keep on trying, and someday finding, my pot O’ gold before I flee!”

            Once the mess is cleaned up and the treats handed out, the outrage simmers but is not forgotten. Every time a Leprechaun is mentioned, kids conspire to catch one and just what they’d do.

            “I’ll choke him with a rope,” says one little boy—I’ll let you guess which one.

            And just like that, we’ve taught the kids a very valuable lesson about mischievous creatures that cause messes: they are hated with a mob-like vengeance unless they give delicious treats.

            And in this way, I think we keep a healthy dose of mob-like mentality going in schools.

            Plus, the green cupcakes were pretty good this year.

***

A SPIDEY’S WAY HOME

            I’m late to the party because I did not see Spider-Man: No Way Home until it was released digitally this past week (due to an upsurge in Covid cases when it was released in October, it didn’t seem worth it to brave the theater at that time). Now that I’ve seen the movie, I can say definitively the movie does things with nostalgia no other film has done before it. What Spider-Man: No Way Home accomplished was validating previous iterations of the franchise. Spider-Man existed as Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield, and there was always a sense of defeat when one saga ended and another reboot was around the corner.

            Until Spider-Man: No Way Home, those previous entries felt dejected, pointless, and hollow.

            Building off the multi-verse that other Marvel movies and series such as Loki and Avengers: Endgame established, it made sense for previous Spider-Men to arrive and continue to have a life. They weren’t wasted renditions of a superhero cinematic formula that wasn’t polished by the Marvel Studios team or botched by spearheading more films by Sony executives looking to make bank on their cheaply bought superhero property. Instead, those stories could live on and impact the present, introducing a 3-dimensional history of the Peter Parker character whereby Toby’s Spider-Man is in his upper 40s, Andrew Garfield’s in his 30s, and the two showing what became of their lives in other universes.

            And the film chose critical moments from Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man trilogy and Garfield’s Amazing Spider-Man. The impact of what it means to fail, what it means to watch Uncle Ben die and be told, “With great power comes great responsibility,” (and was told through the dying words of Aunt May—Marisa Tomei’s character in the modern telling) hit the hardest of the three only because the original movies set the groundwork to enhance that message. It was no longer a line stereotypically required for Spider-Man to hear, but was now for Tom Holland’s Peter Parker, specifically—it was the missing piece of his origin, that the one closest to him had to die and recant this ominous rite of passage and change his destiny forever.

            None of this could have happened without the brilliant recall in the script and bringing all the familiar faces of the cinematic Spider-Man canon together. Those moments hit hardest when we saw both Toby and Andrew struggling to guide young Tom Holland (his Peter Parker character, of course) because they know what he’s going through—the dread, the anger, the pain, the desire for vengeance, knowing the only way forward is to be virtuous in the face of despair. Toby and Andrew’s Peter Parker watched a younger version of themselves suffer through the pinnacle moments that defined their own lives. And there was no changing this, only being present to say they know how he feels because they experienced it, too.

            That was the cost of Spider-Man with Toby Maguire and sacrificing his personal dreams for the responsibility of protecting those that needed help. It was the cost of losing Gwen with Andrew Garfield’s Amazing Spider-Man, knowing there was no way back to a normal life after the loved one that meant the most to him dies. And in this film, Tom Holland’s Peter Parker loses his Aunt May, his most prized love.

            And now the tale can be told anew.

            I’ve never seen a more wonderful symphony conducted with all the original pieces in place. So many great moments were redeemed from movies that meant so much for so long—but were seemingly meaningless with every failed attempt to be the definitive edition of the Spider-Man. I don’t think Tom Holland is the definitive Spider-Man because I loved the old franchises for their own unique telling of the story. What made this film special, was the cohesive strength of the three Peter Parkers coming together in a rich tapestry that made all those past moments matter.

            And isn’t it wonderful that it all meant something after all?

***

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Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,

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