Dear Bill Maher

Dear Bill Maher,

It has recently come to my attention that you chose to malign those who are mourning Stan Lee, belittling Comic Books and their readers in the process.

Thirty years ago, the idea of studying television was laughable. It was widely thought that television is not highbrow enough. Then, as those studying English Literature were able to draw exciting parallels with a different medium, studying television and its impact on the culture as a whole became more acceptable. It's a fairly hot topic now.

I can see that Comic Books will follow a similar arc.

Therefore, may I simply reiterate that which I have said about you for a long, long time:

You

are

an

idiot.

You've borne this out in other areas of your life. You might have a rapid-fire wit, but it was tempered in flames that somehow had some sort of fatuous substance within them, making you a genius about certain things...right before you go off the rails and do something so stupid that my dog wouldn't dream of executing anything that imbecilic.

I often wonder if you and Dennis Miller had coffee, which one of you would shoot himself in the foot first. Miller, like you, has a rapid fire wit that somehow got co-opted by complete derangement following 9/11. For what it's worth, I am completely convinced that Miller has dozens of IQ points on you. I also think he is a lot funnier. That makes his decent into inanity all the more painful for me personally.

You've always been a bit of a screw-up in my head, a pretender to the throne who can't seem to get there even though you talk enough that you think you can. Please see comment regarding your idiocy, above.

But, for whatever reason, there are people on this planet who listen to you, and I beseech you to be careful with your words. As a very wise man once taught us, "With great power comes great responsibility." But you wouldn't know that, would you?

You've never read a comic book.

Black Panther

So, this weekend was Black Panther. Did you see it? Seriously, go see it. Right now. Again. Forever. 

I went on a one-woman mission to get people to watch this movie. I asked a lot of people to go see this thing. See, I had an agenda. I read a year ago about how Disney--not Marvel--was concerned about this movie underperforming due to its primarily black cast and that, say, middle-aged white women who think Chris Hemsworth is an ACTUAL Norse God wouldn't turn out for this. 

And that PISSED ME OFF. 

Because I *am* a middle-aged white woman who thinks that Chris Hemsworth is an ACTUAL Norse God and I also think that Black Panther is the most significant movie I have seen in 30 years. (It could not exist without Iron Man, honestly, but that's a story for another day.) And I was not going to let some bean-counter in SoCal decide whether or not a movie was for me. So I resolved a year ago that no matter the scuttlebutt on this movie, even if the word was that it was worse than Justice League, I was going to go see it. (Side note: when I was 9, I was obsessed with SuperFriends and the Justice League and let me tell you something right now: 9-year-old Kathie could have written a better script than that piece of excrement that is Justice League. I'm serious--do the DC writers sit around, snort coke and think they're gods so they can write a bunch of absolute pus-filled garbage?)

Thank God Black Panther turned out to be the movie that it is. And thank God that Kevin Feige also heard about that Disney moron and said, "Okay, let's up the entire budget by 30%."

I watched it yesterday (Sunday), in a completely packed auditorium. And I wiped my eyes a lot. Because from a narrative point of view, the movie gets an A. In every area you can name, this movie gets an A (except I needed more Sterling K. Brown, but I forgive them). This movie is, objectively, one of the best things to be produced in Hollywood in a long, long time. 

Shuri (the breakout star Letitia Wright) was an absolute revelation, and I think I want to be her when I grow up--not afraid of her smarts. Not afraid of her status. Smart and sassy. Okoye (the most gorgeous Danai Gurira) is one of the most badass women to ever grace the screen. And the fact that the backbone of this movie is THREE BLACK WOMEN is one of the things I wish to cheer about the most. I saw a meme about this last night: 

But the most important part of this movie has to do with something that I think we've all forgotten a lot about. 

Honor. 

The only reason T'Challa lived was that M'Baku felt that he had been treated with honor. So he reciprocated, and kept him alive until someone could save him. Erik Killmonger only existed as he was because both his father and his uncle forgot what it meant to live with honor. T'Chaka did not do the honorable thing by the son of his brother--"legitimate" or no. N'Jobu forgot that in order to live by Wakandan principles meant that you do not arm the populace, but that you gift them with things that can bring them honor--education, technology. 

Character. 

And that, that, I sincerely hope, can become the legacy of Black Panther. 

I want to give a shout-out to a set of people I don't see anymore, a set of people who likely are no longer together as I remember them, at Nottingham High School. I want to honor the incredible staff of Nottingham's Room 100, in particular the amazingly patient Lorenzo J. Jackson, Rich Clark, Jackie Francis, and Leslie Moody-Kennerly (to name but a few). You four taught me more about culture--yours, mine, ours--than anyone else on this planet. You all did in our program, but I made bonds with those four that resonate to this day. You made me a better person. I will never be able to repay that. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I love you. 

Because when I went to see Black Panther, I may have gone as a middle-aged white woman. But I also went hoping that this movie would be something that the people I once worked with would love and approve of.  And as I watched, Lorenzo's discussions of the man who raised him--his discussions about respect and honor--resonated throughout this whole movie for me. And that's when I knew that they got it right. And were it not for his tutelage, I might never have known or recognized that. 

See...I have known T'Challa. 

May we all learn the lessons of honor, respect, and character--and joy at our very being. 

One tribe. 

Together. 

Wakanda Forever.