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great responsibility
Nov. 19th, 2004 09:05 pm.
Sarah looks at the floral pattern on the dress Cathy is wearing today, and sees Spiderman.
Which reminds me about something. Years ago, I was reading a Superman comic in which Lex Luthor (rather than the Toyman, I do believe) has gone to prison, where he makes instructional toys. Talk about one-trick items! Each of them shows the commission of a crime with little scale model perpetrators doing something like sweeping down on the First National with cable harnesses. But they're okay, because you see, they show that these ingenious crimes have flaws that result in the criminals being nabbed by waiting model policemen. So accurate are the models, they seem to have the exact right facial expressions for each scene. Nice work, Lex!
Of course, Luthor was evil, and these instructional models served his evil purpose: when the obvious flaw was bypassed in the obvious way, the toy was a blueprint for a perfect crime by his gang. And everybody but Superman thought he was a good convict! I expect they'd have gone on thinking it, even after six or eight perfect crimes were committed along the lines of his creative efforts.
When I first read this, I got to thinking about whether the crafter of a comical book had an obligation to his public not to demonstrate how to carry out a crime, and whether each crime shown should have a fatal flaw that would let the 1/16 scale policemen put you in their 1/16 scale paddy wagon and take you to the Big Toychest. In my youthful thought experiment, readers soon grew weary of fake crimes that were implausible by their nature and demanded stronger meat. Thinking about it now, I imagine somebody would sue the writer if he got caught or injured carrying out a crime that was drafted with a built-in flaw.
Seemed like an interesting topic, though.
.
Sarah looks at the floral pattern on the dress Cathy is wearing today, and sees Spiderman.
Which reminds me about something. Years ago, I was reading a Superman comic in which Lex Luthor (rather than the Toyman, I do believe) has gone to prison, where he makes instructional toys. Talk about one-trick items! Each of them shows the commission of a crime with little scale model perpetrators doing something like sweeping down on the First National with cable harnesses. But they're okay, because you see, they show that these ingenious crimes have flaws that result in the criminals being nabbed by waiting model policemen. So accurate are the models, they seem to have the exact right facial expressions for each scene. Nice work, Lex!
Of course, Luthor was evil, and these instructional models served his evil purpose: when the obvious flaw was bypassed in the obvious way, the toy was a blueprint for a perfect crime by his gang. And everybody but Superman thought he was a good convict! I expect they'd have gone on thinking it, even after six or eight perfect crimes were committed along the lines of his creative efforts.
When I first read this, I got to thinking about whether the crafter of a comical book had an obligation to his public not to demonstrate how to carry out a crime, and whether each crime shown should have a fatal flaw that would let the 1/16 scale policemen put you in their 1/16 scale paddy wagon and take you to the Big Toychest. In my youthful thought experiment, readers soon grew weary of fake crimes that were implausible by their nature and demanded stronger meat. Thinking about it now, I imagine somebody would sue the writer if he got caught or injured carrying out a crime that was drafted with a built-in flaw.
Seemed like an interesting topic, though.
.
