How to identify the criminally insane

In my continuing effort to improve life in Washington, I've got a new proposal.

Comic books.

Comic books are a big part of my life. I love 'em. Love the stories, love the art. They don't get a whole lot of coverage in Washington; it's pretty much limited to one row on that Sunday Source multimedia reviews table thingy, which isn't that informative since their grading scale appears to be A through B-plus.

In D.C. proper, there are precisely two comic book shops. They're both in Georgetown (yes, that Georgetown!), and they're both about the size of your average Georgetown hall closet. They're fine stores, and they'll order any obscure new things you want, but there's just not a whole lot in the way of back issues. It's possible that a lot of that business has shifted to eBay, which I do use a lot. For exmaple, after leaving work, which has become a mind-numbing purgatorial punishment due to something I must have done in a past life, I'll be retiring to my bed this afternoon to recover with some newly acquired Mark Waid Ka-Zars.

Washington is not a comic book kind of town... clearly it wouldn't look cerebral enough to be seen reading a comic book or graphic novel on the Metro. Oh sure, people read a lot here, but they have to be seen reading the latest real, actual books. The Da Vinci Code? That doesn't have pictures. BORING!

Or, perhaps the most powerful city in the world doesn't want to be reminded that with great power comes great responsibility. I can only theorize.

At any rate, we have none of the big stores you tend to stumble upon in other cities, like, off the top of my head, the one in Pike Place in Seattle, or the one on Clark Ave. near Wrigley Field in Chicago. That's just how it is, and I can accept that, I guess, as an indicator of a population that takes itself too seriously.

But this particular void is particularly grave because, as it turns out, it has left us uninformed and defenseless against supervillains.

Because... really... what kind of a city would let this man run around in public?

Um, HELLO? Doesn't anybody recognize the obvious symptoms of supervillainy? I'll give you a hint:

This is a serious problem, people. This "Matthew Lesko" has clearly escaped from Arkham Asylum in his Leksomobile, and has been left alone to develop some kind of brilliant scheme to steal something big in Washington, like the Declaration of Independence or the Canadian Embassy or something. We won't know we've been robbed until something goes missing; then, at 2 a.m., we'll be watching TV, and this criminal genius will come on the air espousing his nefarious riddles and puzzles.

"You too can get free money from the government! $20,000 to travel overseas! $50,000 to build a website on hiking trails! Making pasta for the government for $80,000! Hundreds of thousands of dollars a year framing artwork for the government! $5,000 grant to put on a new coat of paint!"

"It's all in my boooooook! All you have to do is call now to order!!! And, solve this simple riddle... Why is a woman in love like a welder?"
Seriously, can't any of you multi-billionaires out there be bothered to bankroll a double-life as a costumed vigilante? Not only do we let this guy run around, but he's even started his own blog to detail his villainous exploits. Now he's just rubbing his life of crime in the faces of sane non-criminals.

Join me next time as we discuss the parallels between Dick Cheney and Lex Luthor. You think that's a heart condition he's always going to the hospital for? Nuh-uh... it's kryptonite poisoning.

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