What Have I Wrought

In response to my recent post about Lois Lane's dentition and its implications for the larger DCU, extremely funny commenter damanoid had this to say:

Oh for god’s sake man, do you realize what you’ve done?! This could take YEARS to sort out!

First there’ll need to be a Dentistry Crisis, to explain that Lois Lane had her memories erased to cover up the fact that she was raped while under anesthesia.

Then you’ll have Infinite Caries, a massive crossover event in which an earlier version of Lois, with perfect teeth, attempts to ‘bite through history’ to ensure that her alternate self’s tooth decay never occurs– which alters the dental history of the entire DC universe!

That leads into “One Regularly Scheduled Appointment Later,” which reveals how everyone’s life has been changed by their gleaming new smiles, followed by “32,” a series that explores how each tooth in Lois’ mouth has been affected by these changes.

After that of course is “Blackest Teeth,” in which Lois’ missing tooth returns as a zombified fang bent on destroying all teeth everywhere, followed by “Brightest Smile,” in which all of Lois’ teeth change color and get superpowers, or something.

Not that it matters! Because right after that is “FlossPoint,” another massive crossover which explores the premise of what would have happened if Lois had lost a DIFFERENT tooth. This will result in another reboot, and an entirely new continuity that starts out before Lois had lost her tooth to begin with.

Once all that is out of the way, though, they’ll finally be able to move on to the good stories and solid writing we’ve been waiting for. It’ll be the perfect jumping-on point for new readers! Yes indeed, no doubt about it at all. Blue skies ahead, my friends; nothing but blue skies.

In addition to unleashing a much denser agglomeration of tooth/comic jokes than I'd ever imagined possible, damanoid is of course pointing out the fact that bad comics trends propagate just as readily as good ones. This is sadly true, though I hold hope in my heart that the continuity-heavy title-wide crossover will soon go the way of the foil-embossed cover.


Review of Medicine, by Johnathan

Just this past Tuesday, I went to the hospital and had two wisdom teeth removed. Several aspects of this process seemed worth mentioning:

Firstly, I was willfully paying several hundred dollars to a man so that he would remove some of my teeth. This seems strange to me now that I look back on it. On a related note, I said "Thanks" to the tiny radiologist once she had finished x-raying my mouth. This translates to "Thanks for bathing my head with radiation.", which is honestly something I never thought I'd say outside of certain types of RPG.

Secondly, my doctor (who did a fine job) was named Dr Goodday. Not strange in and of itself, but when I signed in I noticed that two of his colleagues were named Dr Precious and Dr Lovely. I have two main theories on this matter:

a) When I used to work at a call centre we heard of another call centre where you were allowed to make up a name to use instead of having to tell random strangers who you were. We were not allowed to do this, which is why Zoltan Hammertooth is not feared to this day among the wireless -clueless of the Deep South (this is a lie. A friend of mine and a man named Zoltan are currently simulating sex using a series of Facebook applications and roundly disturbing me, and so the name is naturally enough on my mind. I would have been known as Aristotle Conundrum)

b) The Oral/Maxiofacial surgery field has been infiltrated by the Fair Folk. Remember how I mentioned that the woman who blasted my skull with radiation was very small? It is just possible that she was a pixie. Also, Dr Goodday was very tall, which is not in and of itself telling, but it is possible that he had the hooves of a goat instead of feet, and we all know what that means.

The third interesting aspect of the whole experience came after I woke up two teeth lighter. Here's the situation: my girlfriend is out of town and has left me her keys. She lives directly across the street from the hospital. I have brought my friend Yeldarb along as per hospital instructions. Our plan is for him to escort me across the street and into the apartment, where I will spend some time recovering from the Wowie Gas that they gave me. The hospital folk will not hear of this and call me a cab. I feel compelled to apologise to the cabbie and tip him five dollars. He assures us that this is not the shortest distance he has ever been called upon to drive somebody.

Still, I appear to have done pretty well: no bleeding from the mouth, no blinding pain, no (shudder) "dry socket". As far as getting parts of your body removed, the whole thing was JOHN APPROVED.