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David Mack, �Daredevil: Parts of a Hole�

Started November 25 � Finished November 25, 2004, 176 pages. Posted 23 December 2004

Last weekend I went to a party. For the most part, I knew exactly two people by name that were there. But there were other people that I knew from being in this town way too long.

They weren�t people I was happy to see either. I have a very low tolerance for stupidity, and these party guests were very high on that angle.

Let�s get this straight � I�m all for being obnoxious, but that sense of obnoxiousness has to have a certain wit and style to it. It doesn�t just come from being loud.

One of these guys happened across the December 9 issue of Rolling Stone, of which the cover story claims they have the list for the �500 Greatest Songs of All Time.� He thumbed though the issue for a while, and then, for the next hour, proceeded to grab anybody who happened to walk past him.

�Look at this!� he�d scream into their faces, �They say Bob Dylan�s �Like A Rolling Stone� is the greatest song eva! Can you fucking believe that! That song sucks!� What followed was a two-minute piss-poor mocking imitation of Bob Dylan.

Finally, I had enough and got up from the corner from whence I cowered. �Look,� I said, �I�ve heard you rant about this for a while now, but you�re fucking reading Rolling Stone! Wouldn�t you be angrier if they picked a song that you liked? I mean, this list was picked by Rolling Stone readers! I don�t know about you, but I�d be horrified if Rolling Stone readers thought �I am the Owl� by the Dead Kennedys was a good song!�

The guy looked at the floor for a while. �You know,� he said finally, �that�s a good point.�

Ten minutes later, he was waving the magazine in people�s faces again, trying to make the same joke.

That�s a good way to talk about Daredevil. Many people have seen me stop in chain stores and look at the aisles of Spider-man, X-men, Batman and Hulk merchandise, and point out with a touch of sadness that there are no worthless Daredevil trinkets.

What that guy at the party reminded me of was that I like the fact that I enjoy and relate to something that isn�t popular. I don�t want to see Daredevil shirts at places like Hot Topic. I was already appalled enough to see Crass shirts there.

On the same day that Spider-man 2 was released on DVD, there was also a director�s cut of the Daredevil. I haven�t seen a single commercial, poster, or billboard for it, and Tower Records was selling it for 15 bucks. I bought it, and it�s so much better than the original that I�ll never watch the theatrical version again.

Shortly after watching the film, I was angry that something I liked was getting the shaft once again. Now, after that party, I remember why I like the character so much � and one of those reasons is because not many others feel the same way.

Commonality is a scary thing sometimes. I�ve seen more than my share of the socially retarded wearing huge gaudy Spider-man jackets. Whenever I do, I cringe for others that I know who have valid reasons behind their own connection to the character.

Plenty of people relate to the story of a socially awkward kid who uses his powers to rise above his situation and has to fight the duality between a schmoe and a hero. I wasn�t socially awkward as a kid, so I didn�t need that kind of escapism. I related (and still relate) to Daredevil because he broods a lot, even after saving the world.

Also, he�s never able to keep the ones he cares about.

And besides, he�s not relying on amazing powers, he�s basically just keeping himself fit. I recently got back from my first physical checkup since, well, ever. The first thing was blood pressure. The nurse wrote down my numbers.

�So,� I said, �Is that good?�

�It�s pretty good, actually,� she answered. Then, as an afterthought, she added, �for a smoker.�

�Yeah?� I said, �How is it compared to a non-smoker?�

She looked at her feet. �It�s actually pretty good. Better than most.�

Then it was time to see the doctor. One of the first things I got out of his mouth was, �So, is there any way I can get you to quit smoking?�

�Nope,� I said simply.

He wasn�t used to that. I suspect most people hem and haw about how they�ve been trying to cut back.

�Oh,� he stammered. �Uh... how come?�

�I have this whole Hemingway thing going. I write, and I do so with a cigarette jammed in my lips and a big fucking glass of whiskey by my side. Plus the whole misogyny thing.�

�Do you drink a lot?�

�Define a lot.�

He couldn�t do that. Instead, he asked if he could take some blood tests and check my liver and other organs, looking genuinely concerned about what horrible state my body must be in.

I got the test results back recently. It turns out that on every test I scored 20 to 60 points better than the average.

In other words, I�m indestructable.

But hell, I already knew the smoking wasn�t fucking with my system. I was hanging out with an old girlfriend not that long ago. I dated her about eleven years ago. She now has kids, and as people who have kids are wont to do, she had to talk about them. She was talking about the oldest one, and how well he was doing.

�He�s so smart,� she said, her eyes distant as she thought about him with an obvious sense of pride. �And sometimes, I just look at him and wonder how that happened. I mean, I know he didn't get it from my old boyfriend...�

�How old is he?� I interject.

�Eleven.�

I did mention that I dated her eleven years ago, yes? My eyes widen.

�And I watch him as he sits, reading book after book, and I do the math in my head. And then I think about when you and I were together...�

My eyes get bigger.

�But then I see that he doesn�t look anything like you.�

I practically knocked her over with the force of my exhaling, smoker or not. Who would have thought this old man had so much breath in him.


Rating: Worth used.

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