Contemplating how beloved 90-year-old comic maven Stan Lee is these days, it occurred to me that if a man (or woman) lives long enough he can do some serious damage control to his legacy. A couple decades ago, many in the comic book world were upset that Stan had seemingly usurped credit rightfully due illustrator Jack Kirby when it came to the "who-did-what" genesis of Marvel Comics' pantheon of superheroes and angst-ridden alter egos. But Stan sucked it up, began formally acknowledging credit where credit was due to Jack, thereby largely rehabilitating his own reputation in the process. Go, Stan.
Of course, some people are neither capable of remediating their images, nor deserving of the prospect. More likely to find themselves immortalized in the form of a Bud Lite “Real Men of Genius” parody or the subject of some bitchslapping blog (imagine that), these displacers of atoms and burners of oxygen are godsends to people such as myself. Because when it comes to the prospect of saying "Look at this idiot…", it's not only fun to wail away on their asses but profitable, too.











