Of the two I do remember from my recent week off in Boston, or rather, wrote to my ever-shrinking or corrupted RAM, the first was likely fueled by my paranoia about us all leaving the house and the usual kind where I’d stare out the window into the night to spot intruders. These I’d almost always debunk as dreams, and this time because my view of the backyard shifted to overhead and my assailants converged into a huge old school shooting videogame boss. Gun still in hand, I saw a younger version of my son appear at the top of a wide flight of stairs in white robes, mouth agape but silent, and certain it was only a ghost (last year it was The Raid, and now Chris kept insisting we watch The Conjuring), I pulled the trigger, but that, too, was a fake.
The other involved Ben’s father Evan, who apparently had a duplicate of himself or the ability to create one, and I wondered how both could hold separate conversations. Would his perspective switch back and forth like changing TV channels? We had to somehow defeat this genius, and my plan was to let him know that we knew, but be subtle about it, by inserting the message only in the background of one of his fields of view, like on a small sign in a crowd.
The other night I watched a child interview Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice—truly the worst possible title for a film due on the 75th anniversary of the first issue of World’s Finest—director Zack Snyder and he was surprisingly generous with the information he revealed: a look at a new character who at first resembled Green Arrow, but a bug was visible on the side of his mask, and the narrator screamed, “The Zipper!” embarrassing me for not making the connection.
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