Rarely do I despise anything like I do SNL. Saturday night-ly rows of inmates cackle to TV's emptiest promise of comedy as if witnessing the second coming of Dangerfield. Disdain so complete I loathe by association, refusing to soil my specs with Adam Sandler, Chris Farley, Will Farrell, or movies containing alumni post-'90. I MIGHT give "Spanglish" a whirl if it's available and nothing else. Notable exceptions being Andy Samberg's "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" which had me howling so over a scene involving a promiscuous packed-tight person of color (Craig Ferguson's randy sister) and her offensively over-sized-ding-a-ling bearing pooch I fled to the bathroom before being a 7 AM alarm for a crowd of pissy convicts. Further, my beloved "30 Rock", the K-hole of Hulu I retreated to every evening for months after work into reruns and kept binging. Turned out to be crippling depression but between the sacks of weed, fistfuls of pills, toaster oven quesadillas, and tearful giggling at Liz and Jack I hardly noticed.

     Aside from the pustulant infection of that Keenan person who's never demonstrated a lick of anything resemblant of talent lies a need to explain the living bejeezus out of every gag short of Lorne "Success Disproportionate To Worthiness" Michaels arming a flock of elementary teachers with flip-charts to demystify his inch-deep comic skits door-to-door. Why has the Not-Ready-For-Prime-Time scene become so inane? Inspiration.

     When the show debuted in 1975 the unique influence was television with this being a comedy joint manned exclusively with the first generation of writers and actors never knowing life without the medium. The compost heap of properties fertilizing the maiden cast including Murray, Aykroyd, Radner, Belushi, and Curtin were soap operas, variety shows, sitcoms, detective shows, etc. The generations following have been influenced by the show itself, debut removed from audience memory, lifetime, then century. The result is a bland derivative where the gag that sailed over a kid's noggin is explained by that nimrod grown into a staffer. Armed with expert findings declaring average America incapable of deciphering a single-piece jigsaw puzzle comes a crap-fest with longevity mistakingly credited to quality. Meanwhile, because of its un-avoidability in domestic levity, most youth when confronted by humor think deconstructing the joke into meaninglessness is the punchline. Like Xerox copies - the first is fine but every time you reproduce from the prior imitation it gets weaker. Thank God this effect works reversed for my top addict pop medium - comic books.

     Speaking for a hefty mainstream - DC, the one I started with and traditionally my jam - each generation growing up reading the products brings it in stronger filling the blanks readers wonder and imagine with substance. The secret to DC's modern magic is comic love from intrinsic enthusiasts to the crown: President Jim Lee is a godsend I've reviled for decades. Emblematic of the explosively ugly psychotic-monosyllabic-antihero decade with its hideous busy-like-rush-hour art and design, when he was thrown into the oligarchic circle of the company I was outraged. New 52's draconian costumes with yards of piping and undue lines alienated me as a reader instantly recalling the decade Marvel went bankrupt before Bendis under Disney blueprinted the billion dollar cine-verse from the ashes with a pioneer tale of a writer capitalizing on prior decades with leagues of additional characterization and warmth. Lee as lover of great things comic not submerged in the ethos of a trend-dipped decade is this boss. His known admiration for Kirby, Dini, and an array of the best crafters to grace the pages shines in his leadership role with projects like the Absolute line, a riveting evolution from Fifties "Imaginary Stories" adapting to Elseworlds, now this realized multiversal spin with privileges deleted to reveal new versions of the same champions underneath. 

     Finer even is pausing the cams on the main event characters and handing B-Teamsters to contemporary visionaries that blossomed reading the books lovers like myself did to grand results. The first love letter I read was Bendis and Ryan Sook's definitive Legion of Superheroes, amplifying the awesomeness and exploding the 31st century teen heroes with all the fun due a group as such. Then there's Tom King and Bilquis Evely's "Supergirl, The Woman of Tomorrow" which has impressed me beyond any expectation for a comic.

      Buying this title cover unseen I was deflated at the sight of Kara Zor-El brandishing a sword with a backdrop of sci-fi-scapes and unknowns. Immediately I had PTSD from the hole Wonder Woman was trapped in over a decade. Ten pages later was a vibe so far past my comfort zone for a Supergirl book I intermittently grinned and gritted. This ain't the Linda Lee Danvers I grew up with, I believed, but it IS. Our Maid of Might's drinking alone, agonizing while inspiring, and being one of the loneliest figures in the Imagination. Still a book with laughs plenty, perilous adventures on new planets with tropes invented for this that need to outlast the miniseries impetus, and a thick narrative that goes down smooth as mango lasee. Then theres that succulent Evely artwork that recalls Kirby, Gil Kane, and dare I add Frazetta or Moebius without the insult of impersonation. Transcendent to the medium with this marriage but it never forgets to be a Supergirl comic, either.

     This is what you get when comic lovers grow up wanting to create content while reading real books, viewing serious cinema, and appreciating diverse art. The relationship between society and nature gets reflected in corporate comics and visionaries: grass leaps through cement cracks, mold envelops plaster corners, and sun punches through window shading. Genius cant be bottled, so let creative be that.

     A bean-counter with an abacus was the selection before Jim Lee, who has pros like Bendis, Joshua Williamson, and obviously King to do for these characters what Grant Morrison did for Animal Man, an arguably lame cipher previously. Supergirl's not a bad character, but always redundant to cousin Kal. This smashes that issue and not by making her a strong independent woman stereotype from previous decades and runs. This is a superhero's epic defining moment with a new everything except the basics of 1950s Girl of Steel. Exemplifying why I loathe the "who's your favorite" super-person question because it really only matters who's writing to get the answer.

     I'm beyond psyched for the film of the same name in June. Truly I hope the same title means capturing the essence of this bold heroine herein. Please not something weve watched before but an elevation of the heroine genre so badly needed from DC. Anything short would be heresy after the genius of "Superman". I suppose we'll know Tomorrow.