Divine Advice For Superman 2

Dear DA,

I went into a bookstore a few days ago–I know, I know, I can’t believe any of them exist anymore, either.

Anyway, I went in, and I noticed that you guys are in the religion section, while Thor, Zeus, and some of my other pals are in mythology, or fantasy.

And I wasn’t even really in the store. There were non-fiction books about me, but no tales of my heroic deeds, which I can live with, but feel is a bit unfair. You guys send locusts and plagues and destroy entire cities for sodomy, while I’ve saved the world more times than I can count, and you can’t find me unless you go into a comic book store.

In any case, none of this really bothers me. As Superman, I’m above that kind of pettiness, but it did begin to make me worry.

I know you’re planning on starting the apocalypse soon, and I’m not going to try to stop you. I’ve gotten a bit more frustrated and murdery lately myself. Despite my criticisms, frankly, I admire you. I’ve been around less than 100 years, and I’ve wanted to vaporize the Middle East since the 80s, or at least give them some kind of ultimatum. I mean for fuck’s sake, they’ve been fighting for thousands of years, and sometimes, I think killing them all is the only solution.

What I’m really worried about are the survivors. There will be a few who survive the apocalypse and try to rebuild, and they’ll find just as many half-destroyed comic books as they will bibles. In a few hundred years, these assholes might end up worshipping me, or even worse, Batman. Can you imagine a world where Batman is humanity’s moral compass? You’d have a society of vigilantes sleeping with little boys.

My solution, as usual, is to just punch all of the bibles and comic books, or throw them into the sun, but I wanted to see if you had any other ideas first.

Thanks,
Superman
PS: Did you hear I’m being replaced by a Black Superman? His kryptonite is Colt 45 and menthol cigarettes. Yeah yeah I know I’m a racist, but I’m a racist against all humans. The entire human race sucks, except for maybe the Eskimos, or whatever the hell they want to be called nowadays. God dammit I’m too old to learn all these new words and change my ways. I’d make it up to the Eskimos by frying Marjorie Taylor Greene, but I just can’t wait to see what that crazy bitch does next. So she lives, at least for now.


Dear Supes,

It’s kind of embarrassing, but I have to admit I am a HUGE fan. I mean, I’m God, for My sakes. I shouldn’t be impressed by anyone, but you are just awesome. It’s funny that you should bring up bookstores because there’s this question about your X-Ray vision I’ve always wanted to ask. Is your power so finely tuned that you could read a book without opening it? Like, can you see through the cover to a specific page, and then the next one, and then the next one, and so on? If so, that’s awesome.

So, I know you wrote in asking for my advice, but I actually have a couple of favors to ask you. First of all, I’m wondering if you could help me with my woman situation. If you’re a reader of this column, then you probably know that my entire Apocalypse scheme depends on my successful wooing of AOC. The problem is, in my exuberance, I’ve done some really lame puppy dog shit like pick her up from the airport and help her move. According to Satan, that’s the kind of shit that gets you “friend-zoned”, which is a million times worse than being “Phantom-Zoned”. Lately, I’ve been playing it cool by ignoring her prayers and whatnot so I wouldn’t seem so desperate. I think it’s working, but what would really seal the deal is if I could give her an engagement ring featuring a big ole’ Superman brand diamond. Obviously, I can make my own, but everyone knows you’re, like, the Picasso of coal crushing. So, yeah, if you could make me one of those, that would be awesome. I’ll even provide the coal. Santa stuck some in my stocking for Christmas this year as a joke, that asshole. It’s my fucking birthday, and the guy gives me coal. Anyway…

The other favor also has to do with the Apocalypse. It has taken me so long to get my ass in gear that the Four Horsemen have gotten really out of shape. Even Famine has gotten fat, and he’s supposed to be fasting. I should have ended the world before humans invented Twinkies, but it is what it is. My point is, there’s a Horseman position open, and I’d like you to fill it. You won’t technically be replacing any of the current ones; you’re going to be added as a 5th member of the team. Of course, with you there, the whole notion of a “team” becomes ridiculous. Think of this Apocalypse as the Jesus cut of Justice League only with more plagues and swarms of insects. I think you’ll really enjoy yourself because, unlike the movies, you’ll be allowed really to cut loose and wreak havoc without stupid Batman negging you.

Regarding your concerns about what happens after the Apocalypse, the truth is I don’t really give a shit. All humans that count will have been already sorted into Heaven and Hell piles, so anyone left is yours to do with what you will. If you want to rule over them as their new God/king, that’s fine with me. If you want to melt them with your heat vision and spread them on toast, that’s fine, too. Punch bibles, write new ones, it doesn’t fucking matter.

—Jesus Christ


Dear Superman,

Do you know what’s even worse than the Phantom Zone? Hell. And you have a one-way ticket, buddy. I know you’ve always thought of yourself as a good guy, but in actuality, you’re no better than a typical Earth politician. You tell yourself what you’re doing is for the greater good while you level an entire city chasing around some asshole from your planet who wouldn’t even be there if it weren’t for you. Your lack of compassion and disregard for human life can be described as Hitler-esque.

Plus, you’re really racist.

You think because you’re invincible and immortal that you’ll never face any consequences for your actions, but I’ve got news for you. Hell is a physical place, and you don’t have to be dead to come here. We have an entire Kryptonite village where we stick assholes from Krypton. Some of the people here are alive, like Zod, and some are dead, like your parents. Yeah, that’s right; both Jor-El and Lara are here, taking robotic snakes made of Kryptonite up their poop shoots as we speak. Later, Jor-El will be getting his cock smashed with a Kryptonite hammer, and tomorrow Lara will be taking a bath in molten Kryptonite. Actually, 95% of the Krypton population is in Hell, which shouldn’t surprise you. You wretched people destroyed your planet much like the dumb humans are doing to the Earth.

I haven’t exactly worked out how I’m going to get you here, but I know Lex Luthor is working on a Kryptonite butterfly net, so maybe he’ll be willing to let me borrow it. Plus, there’s always Batman. He kicked your ass once, and he can do it again if I pay him enough. I’m still figuring out the details of your punishment, but part of your torture will involve setting you up in front of a huge monitor Clockwork Orange-style and forcing you to watch Black Superman fuck both Lois Lane and Lana Lang while they tell him how much bigger his cock is than yours. In case that actually turns you on, you’ll be forced to wear Kryptonite gloves so you can’t even jerk off.

—Satan

Have an uncomfortable question? Need some advice about your deviant behavior? If so, then it’s time to pray. Email your question to ryan@skullislandtimes.com, and it shall be answered in a Divine Advice column by Jesus and Satan.

H. Seitz

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