Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng

For some reason, I chose to take the high road yesterday.
First, I sent a private email to the offending asshat pointing out that the work was complete and even done to the bizarre and undocumented standards expected.
Five hours later, I get the response, "My bad."
I replied again, snarkily pointing out that he may have forgotten to cc: the entire stupid company with the correction.
It was probably an honest mistake. Like yesterday, when I tried to use his credentials to access the CEO's personal files over and over and over until his account locked.
Ah, yes. The high road can be a rewarding place.
I spent the rest of the work day doing whatever it is that I do and answering calls from clients about how high the water is near their servers.
"It looks like the sparking is evaporating most of it before it gets anything too wet."
I'm reading some DC Comics from the 80's in the evenings.
I secured a hard copy of "Crisis on Infinite Earths" which is the first multi-title comic event to have a lasting effect on the comic universe.
Prior to that, each issue (or at least storyline) was engineered with a Gilligan's Island-esque sense of progress.
No matter what the Skipper does to maintain order, no matter what the Professor invents with old boat parts and fruit, no matter who wins the talent show or what celebrity is visiting the island -- The next episode starts with the castaways in the exact same situation.
We can blame Gilligan all we want, but in the end he is a convenient scape goat the writers lazily go to as a Deus Ex Machina week after week to really keep the plot moving nowhere tangible.
So "Crisis on Infinite Earths" was an attempt by DC Comics to simplify.
In 1985, partially to celebrate the 50th anniversary for DC Comics, it was decided that there was too much going on at once in too many places.
There were different versions of characters on multiple versions of Earth in what was previously explained as different universes. In some, Superman is a bad guy. In a few, he sets himself up as a dictator. Lex Luthor is the #1 hero in one Earth, and is married to Lois Lane.
I have not seen a Lex Luthor with hair. That would be too weird.
Anyway, anti-matter boils through the multiverse, cleaning house. Characters die with their worlds and a unified version is presented to the fans.
This dramatically clears up continuity issues and provides an out for anyone caught in an argument about canon in a comic book store.
Don't mock the fear until you've been in one of those arguments.
They can now be mostly avoided by saying, "Was that before Crisis on Infinite Earths or after?"
Oddly, this even works with discussion about Marvel characters, who would never be impacted by a DC Comics event:
"Was that before Crisis on Infinite Earths or after?"
"Um, Spider-Man has nothing to do with CoIE, dude."
"Hey! Is that a girl looking at the gaming stuff?" -- Followed by a speedy exit while they comb the games section.
Also credited with revitalizing DC Comics (and the industry by extension) was Frank Miller's Batman: The Dark Knight Returns.
This comic was an instant classic, and I remember it from the original run in 1985.
It works better for me now, and I think I know why.
The story follows a grey-haired Bruce Wayne as he comes out of retirement and hits the streets again to fight crime (really nasty future-type crime) in a gritty, post-modern Gotham City.
While it focuses more on the psychosis that leads a billionaire to break the law and fight crime vigilante-style than the regular storyline, it also deals with the effects of aging on martial arts skills and technological advances that might compensate.
The story is dated in places. The President is obviously an addled Ronald Reagan and (while Batman is involved very little) news stories cover increased tensions with the Soviet Union.
However, there is a scene where urban chaos follows a passenger jet crashing into a skyscraper which actually gave me chills on this reading.
I think the story speaks to me now because of where I am.
I've been reading Batman since I could read. He has always been 29.
After a while, as the age gap closes between Batman and reader, another gap develops.
It is weird reading Batman now that I am older than he is.
I like to see the character progress and deal with aging. He should be, damn it. The rest of us are!
For four issues, Batman becomes mortal in a way that he doesn't even when he gets completely beaten up by Bane or gassed by the Joker.
Of course, it also helps that he still beats the crap out of the bad guys and an iconic good guy, too.
Plans for today include trying to stay dry while making snarky comments to asshats.