writes about nerdy things, and celebrates those things as an English teacher. He lives in the mountains. Thanks for reading; feel free to leave a message.
Lois Lane makes a crummy first impression. She’s thin-lipped, strident, and self-involved; you can see how Clark Kent’s disguise of bumbling-plus-birth-control-specs could dupe her so handily (despite there never having existed such a black-haired, blue-eyed, 6′3″, 225-pound reporter-mancake—unmarried, heterosexual, or otherwise—in the history of movable type). Yet as a journalist interviewing an indestructible space alien, she devolves into a hair-flipping, loin-scrambled giggle of a girl. She’s supposed to be a watchdog, a serious reporter, but over seven decades of revamps and reboots in every medium, Lane wants the scoop way less than she wants to get scooped up. Frankly, it’s gross.

Mary H.K. Choi, one of the very best female writers on comics around, on Lois Lane. Mary is righteous. (Fist bump).

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