No, folks, I’m not dead, I’m just raking in the overtime. I promise Marcel’s mousy meanderings will conclude at some point. However, my own maunderings being more mollifying if they have some motive other than mollification, I shall merge this message with some musings.

I have been thinking recently about what I’d do if I were a supervillain. Now, don’t think I’m taking the term ‘supervillain’ in its strictest sense. Costume strictly optional here. But it’s fun to think, if I were a villain — a type from movies, from pulp, from comic books, from TV — what type would I be? After long consideration (okay, about two bites of yogurt), I’ve decided I would be the villainess who says many witty, strange, or cutting things and is utterly mad. The quotable crazy, shall we say.

Now, this is not just because it suits my rather mad personality. This is not simply because my favorite villains ever are Callisto from Xena (“I never drink intoxicants, Theodorus. I like to experience life in all its agonizing glory. I don’t want to dull the sensation for a second.”), Drusilla from Buffy (“Miss Edith speaks out of turn. She’s a bad example, and will have no cakes today.”), and Harley Quinn from the Batverse (“I love museums. Do you think they’ll be mad that I drew raccoons on the abstract paintings?”)— and do NOT make me choose an order on those. It is not merely that I am fascinated by fictional madness, its wellsprings, meanings and clarity. I have a really practical reason for this.

If you’re crazy enough, they can always foil your plan without you looking like a pseudo-competent poser. Cuz, you know, crazy! Even more importantly, if you’re quotable and lovable enough, the fans adore you. And if the fans love you and the writers can defeat you, you will never, ever die.

P.S. What kind of villain would YOU be, fair reader? Bond? Buffy? I bet EMeta would wear gold lamé and debilitate the heroes with his horrible word-play attack. The PUNSTER!