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THE LAW IS A ASS for 04/11/2000
DOCKET ENTRY
"The Law is a Ass" Installment # 39
Originally written as installment # 30 and published in Comics Buyer's Guide issue # 558, July 27, 1984 issue
Sometimes re-reading these old columns in preparation for there inclusion here on the "Law is a Ass" web page is like unearthing a time capsule. How else can I explain the out-of-left-field closing joke, which cribs from Doug and Bob McKenzie? I mean, either you remember them, but haven't thought of them in years, or you don't remember them because you weren't old enough to stay up and watch Second City TV. But that's the danger of making cultural reference jokes, once the cultural reference has become passe, the joke no longer works.
You can be sure that a reference to the McKenzie Brothers is not the sort of cheap cultural reference joke, I'd be likely to make, if I were writing the same column now. No, today, I'd probably make a joke about a contemporary, and far more long-lasting cultural icon, like the Butabi Brothers.
******
"The Law is a Ass"
Installment # 39
by
Bob Ingersoll
Legal briefs.
I hope you're not waiting for me to make the obvious Fruit of the Loom joke. My looms are above that sort of potty humor. Guess I'm just not a potty animal.
No I'm talking about today's column topic: legal briefs. That is lots of short brief pieces which, alone, aren't enough to make up a column, but which, together, form what follows.
I'll start with the topic that's the least legal. Not in the sense that what I'm going to write about is against the law--it just should be! Rather, it's another mistake, one which has absolutely nothing to do with the law but one made so frequently it continually irks me so I'm going to write about it. It's found in World's Finest Comics # 307--a title which, if the Truth in Advertising laws applied to it, would be renamed something like World's Eighty-Seventh Finest Comics. Our problem is found in panel four of the two-page spread on pages two and three. There we meet the villain of the piece, X'ult--and if I weren't already irked about something else, I could go off on the practice of creating alien names by taking an ordinary word, dropping a few necessary letters, and adding completely unnecessary apostrophes. These names aren't cute, they aren't coy. What they are is painful to the eyes and wreak havoc on the average spell checker. Anyway, our boy X'ult, who has the power to congeal time itself, hits Superman with a green time ball and gloats, "Your speed may be creditable, my foe, but with my power I can place a million light-years of time between us."
You see what the problem is, don't you? Which already places you several evolutionary rungs above the writer of this particular tale, not to mention the scribes of countless bad science fiction stories, movies, TV shows, radio shows and comic books. But for those keyboard-capable protozoa posing as writers who might have missed the point, let me explain.
A light-year is the distance light travels in the vacuum of space in the period of one standard Earth year. Got it? Light. Year. How far light can travel in a year. It's approximately 5,878,000,000,000 miles or 10,000,000,000,000 kilometers or about one-half the eight of a tower formed if all of the "last" survivors of Krypton were to stand on each others' shoulders. In other words, a light-year is a unit of distance, not a unit of time. You cannot have a "million light-years of time," that would be like having "a million feet of hours." Yes, you can grow an acre of thyme, but you can't have a light-year of time. I can't begin to tell you how tired I am of people who misuse light-year by pretending that the "light" part of the compound word is surplusage so think it's a measure of time. You cannot have a "million light-years of time" any more than boastful space pilots can make "the Kessel run in less that twelve parsecs."
Have you got it?
A LIGHT-YEAR IS DISTANCE NOT TIME!!!
And if that doesn't drive the point home to all present and future writers who are incapable of doing fundamental research, I have used the same considerable influence in Congress that added the Ingersoll Amendment to the Keene Act to have a law enacted. Henceforth, any writer who uses light-year to measure time instead of distance is subject to the penalty of having every comic in his or her collection being turned into a complete run of Brother Power, the Geek; Prez;, or It, the Living Colossus. (Hey, these are drastic times, and I say, "Let the punishment fit the crime.")
******
Let us move on to something which is legal, that is to say, a comic-book story which deals more directly with the law; even if its execution is a crime. We're talking about the current problems that Bruce (The Batman) Wayne and Jason (Robin) Todd are having with Amanda Groscz and the Gotham Child Welfare Bureau. When last we saw Bruce and Jason, Ms. Groscz had obtained a court order removing Jason from Bruce's custody and placing him in her custody at the Welfare Bureau, until the court can appoint a new home for him. (Sob. Sob.)
It is interesting to note the wealth of information that Ms. Groscz amassed to support her court order. First, we have the fact that Jason has been falling asleep in class, so his health may be in jeopardy. Batman # 373. (Of course, he could just be nodding off because he's bored by a teacher with poor delivery. I know that pure tedium used to send me to the land of Morphius all the time in school purely as a self-defense mechanism, but my health was never in question. Well, my physical health, anyway.)
Next, horrors of horrors, Bruce Wayne has no formal adoption or guardianship papers for Jason. Batman # 374. So, Ms. Groscz claims, as Jason is illegally living with Bruce and we can presume Jason is receiving less than proper care. Now, this compelling piece of evidence ignores the fact that Dick Grayson lived as Bruce Wayne's legal ward for some four decades--or six years, if we're talking comic-book time--and the quality of Bruce's caregiving back then was never brought into question by anyone. Well, at least not by anyone more responsible more respected than Fredric Wertham. Ms. Groscz's assumption fails to ask the pertinent question: if Bruce cared for Dick Grayson in a perfectly competent manner, why can the court suddenly assume the quality of his caregiving has mysteriously slipped?
Even more bothersome in Ms. Groscz' "evidence" is the fact that Bruce filed the proper guardianship papers before Jason moved in, but those papers have never been approved by the proper authorities, as established in Detective # 542. Bruce did nothing wrong, he filed the papers. The problem is the Child Welfare Bureau has been derelict in its duty to act on the papers. Bruce should be punished for the bureaucracy's fowl-ups?
A rhetorical question, of course. When hasn't the citizenry taken it on the chin for the bureaucracy's fowl-ups?
Of course, Amanda Groscz has other compelling evidence, like the fact that Bruce was abroad, when she tried to call him in Detective # 541. Imagine that, the CEO of a multi-national philanthropic organization being abroad and leaving his ward in the care of a trusted adult, Alfred Pennyworth; the same trusted adult who reared Bruce when his parents were killed and whose care of a minor was also never called into question. The pillory is too good for Bruce!
Or am I being too harsh, because my parents used to take trips without me and leave me with friends and other trusted adults? I mean look how I turned out. (Well, okay, look how my brother and sisters turned out.)
And, finally--the worst of all--one night at eleven p.m., Bruce and Jason were not home but were out. The mind boggles at the implications of a twelve-year-old child being out past eleven one night. Heaven forbid that he should ever do something cultural like going to the symphony or the opera.
Yes, I am being sarcastic, it's my stock in trade. The evidence of improper care which Amanda Groscz amassed was circumstantial, suspect, specious, and, when contrasted with the exemplary care that Bruce Wayne gave Dick Grayson all those years, unconvincing. I doubt that it would be sufficient to support the court order removing Jason from Bruce's care, which Amanda secured.
One warning, however, I am not especially trained in family law, so those readers who may have children, don't you go abroad without them, just on my say so. Consult a lawyer first. I'd hate for you to take my word for it, and then find out you've been declared an unfit parent.
Seriously though, family law is not my area of expertise. So I ran the fact pattern past Tom Condosta, one of they attorneys who practiced in the Juvenile Division of our office. There Tom dealt with family law and child custody matters routinely. If anything, Tom thought the Jason Todd custody matter was even more absurd than I did. Still, I'll give the story only final chance: if any you readers, who are more familiar with the catacombs of family law, think differently and believe Amanda had collected enough evidence to support her court order, let me know. If you convince me I was wrong, I'll even admit it publicly in a future column, albeit in real small type.
******
The rest of my legal briefs come in the form of answering some of the mail. The first letter comes from a person who asked that his name and address be withheld. I am more than willing to honor his request, and answer his letter without revealing his name. (If any other readers would like to ask a question, but would like to have their names withheld, you but to ask.)
Mr. X asked what effect insurance might have on the question of super-hero tort liability. To reprise briefly, if super-heroes cause damage, while fighting a super-villain, the doctrine of emergency would absolve them from any liability for the damage caused. In some cases, particularly the Fantastic Four, Iron Man, or the Avengers some rich benefactor picks up the tab, even if the hero isn't liable (ie. someone sends a bill to Reed Richards or Tony Stark, they pay it, and the damaged party isn't out anything.) In other cases the hero repairs his own damage, particularly Superman. In other cases the damage is left damaged. What then?
If the damaged party has insurance, he makes a claim. If his insurance covers the damage the insurance company pays. Then, if the insurance company feels it can collect from the hero who caused the damage, it may sue him for restitution. If the damaged party has no insurance, he has to foot the repair bill himself. But then he, like the insurance company, can also sue the hero.
Collecting against the super-hero would usually be difficult. Frequently, the damage was caused, while the hero was saving lives or otherwise protecting the populace at large from a super- villain. As I have said before, the doctrine of emergency generally absolves the hero from liability in such cases. The injured party could sue the super-villain who also caused the damage. The doctrine of emergency wouldn't help the villain, as he wasn't usually acting to help an emergency, he usually caused it. If the villain has any funds, he could be successfully sued. Assuming those funds weren't the ill-gotten gains of his thefts. Property-damage victims who had super-villains destroy their buildings can't collect the funds of super-villain's theft victims to make themselves whole.
In summary: if the hero tells you, the injured party, to send the bill to Tony Stark, do it. You'll get reimbursed. If no one steps forward to accept the bill and you have insurance, file a claim. Your rates may go up, but you'll get your money back. Then the insurance company can worry if it wants to sue someone. If you don't have insurance, you may have to sue. If the hero caused the damage fighting a villain, don't bother suing the hero, you won't win. Sue the villain, if he has any bucks. Finally if the hero caused the damage in a fit of anger or rage, which is about every other issue of any given Marvel Comic, then you can probably sue the hero for damages. Which brings up another question: if the heroes can be sued for damage caused in fits of anger, how does the Thing stay out of civil court long enough to fight all those super-villains?
Paul Kusnerik of Bearer Falls, Pennsylvania asked me about what was involved, when Luke Cage legally changed his name to Luke Cage, back in Power Man and Iron Fist # 50. Although, each state has its own procedure for changing one's name legally, they're all pretty much the same. Usually it involves petitioning a court for the name change, which the court will grant, if it can be assured that the name isn't being changed to escape the law or any legal or financial obligations which burden the applicant. So, what Luke did was file an application with a New York court to change his name then appear before the court to answer any possible questions. Cage's name change request would have no effect on his criminal records, as he had legally cleared himself of all the charges. Thus, the criminal record had been expunged from the files. So, it was granted readily enough.
And no, Paul, I can't make it a weekly column. I have to sleep sometime.
Dr. Glenn Hankanson of Sacramento, California is a licensed psychiatrist. He wrote about my recent column discussing criminal insanity. He told me the column demonstrated more knowledge of forensic psychiatry than most attorneys in his acquaintance. Thank's Dr. Hankanson. Always glad to print a compliment.
Dr. Hankanson corrected my calling schizophrenia a personality disorder. It's a psychotic disorder. Oops. I'm surprised I made that mistake. I knew schizophrenia was a psychotic disorder. We psychotics know all the psychotic disorders.
Finally Dr. Hankanson raised a very interesting point, how is mental illness diagnosed in the Marvel Universe, the DC Universe any the universe of other comic company, for that matter? For example, schizophrenia is often diagnosed, because the patient's demonstrating delusions, that is beliefs that are patently absurd and can have no possible basis in fact. For example, the delusional man may believe that his behavior is being controlled by another's thoughts being broadcast into his mind. Said belief might well be a sign of delusional thinking in our universe. In the Marvel universe, it probably means he was standing too close to the Puppet Master. If you or I say we're Superman, we're insane. If Clark Kent says it he's probably in a phone booth. Dr. Hankanson also suggests the patient who walks into an office claiming to have seen shape-changing aliens. Here, the man would be institutionalized. In the Marvel universe, the man is Rom, Space Knight and gets his own comic book.
(Now that's what I like. Letters which compliment me and provide their own jokes to boot!)
"So, anyway, that's it for today, eh. Our topic for today was 'Legal Briefs', which was the Hose Head's topic. Next time I get to choose the topic, and it'll be a much better one, eh."
BOB INGERSOLL
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