HOW DOES HE GET AWAY WITH IT?!

For years, one question has bothered me to the point of sheer madness:are the people of Metropolis just plain dumb?

Clark Kent was born Kal-El on the planet Krypton.
Upon learning of it's certain demise, Jor-El sent little Kal-El to Earth so he would be spared and perhaps live out a fulfilling existance.

Learning he had special abilities under the power of a yellow sun, Clark soon began honing his skills in an effort to fight injustices of the world and protect the Earth from all who would harm it under the mantel of "Superman".

Of course, he had to continue to blend in with the "natives", thus continuing his secret identity of "Clark Kent".

Now, for other super hero's, keeping an identity secret is not a problem.
Their costume usually includes some sort of mask, hood, or cowl, thus concealing from the rest of the world who they really are.
This is very effective in protecting not only themselves from harm, but loved ones and co-workers alike.
But not Clark.

His secret identity simply consists of a pair of glasses, and slouching a bit.

Allow me to demonstrate:



Ok, so, can you tell that it is actually I in both pictures?
Does the addition of a pair of glasses distract you from the possibility that I could in fact be the Man of Steel?
(ok, so, actually I'm Batman. But for the purpose of this blog, I have donned a different personae to prove my point).

There are either two possibilities: Either the citizens of Clark's home town are all morons, or, in sending little Kal-El to Earth, Jor-El secretly sent along small pathogens altering Earthlings perception of the obvious.

I'm sure this subject will continue to confound those who pursue it.
But for now, I must remain diligent in my quest to find out just what is at work here:stupidity or germs.

weird-ass dream

It takes place in a parking lot/alley surrounded by tall buildings.
There's like ten or twelve musicians: half bass players, half guitarists including Brian May. And Paul Williams is the singer. (I know:Mr. "Old fashioned love song" singing "We are the Champions" is a little bit of a stretch, but it's my dream.).
Of course, we all have stacks. And with the surrounding buildings, the sound is freakin' incredible!
So we're jamming on everything under the sun, until Paul suggests this 'little ditty', "Nothing but a Good time", which oddly no one knows. (btw:C.C. is in rehab or something, because he's not there).
So I start the opening riff and everyone starts filtering in.
Pretty soon we're filling the area with what sounds like a Poison rock opera.
It's phenomenal.

And, of course, on the ending note, my allergies take over and I wake up.
fukkerbitch.

I wonder what the meaning of THAT dream is?