Joseph Allen Reed was confirmed dead at 4:17 p.m. on June 24th, 2082.

According to Rwandan authorities he was shot twice by a member of a radical Rwandan political movement known only by a symbol: a pink beret. The suspect is in custody and has released no comment.

Dr. Reed was in the midst of delivering a speech promoting peace and compromise in the midst of civil unrest. Born on May 23, 1982, Dr. Reed was still speaking and doing work among the poor at 100 years of age. This was his greatest passion. His heart was full of love and compassion. He once stated that if he could ask God for one thing it would be to “give me a bigger heart and more compassion for the masses.” He lived every single moment of his life to the fullest, always taking time to meet the needs of every person around him.

You know a show is good when you’re already laughing just from the opening credits. HBO’s Flight of the Conchords has steadily become one of my favorite shows for the odd, unusual humor of duo Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie, New Zealand’s fourth-rated folk duo. Intelligent humor is always the best kind, and this nerdy pair makes you work to get all the laughs buried in each episode. Case in point: Bret leaves the band in one episode and Jemaine and Murray hold auditions. The sign on the door lists the qualifications to fill Bret’s spot. You’ll miss them if you don’t pause. They include “Have curly hair,” and “Play guitar, but not very well.” There are also the slogans for the New Zealand posters on Murray’s office walls. Some are blatant and some I’ve missed while my husband was nearly on the floor from the limitations of Murray’s Commodore Vic 20 computer, and Bret’s 1983 Casio DG electric guitar set to electric mandolin and drums.

Comics in the 40s, 50s, and 60,s were a fairly homogenous group. There weren’t many black, asian, or even redneck heroes. Most of the male heroes were handsome, with square jaws, barrel chests, and the females, (although not displaying the gratuitous amounts of flesh that they would in the 70s and forward), were generally drawn to be easy on the eyes.

The homogeneity extended to the types of villains that our heroes battled – Chinese, Vietnamese, Russians of all sorts, Germans, etc. Basically any non-white ethnic group was subject to villainization at the hands of the comic story writers.

However – since the world is now becoming one big global village, (someone wipe the smirk off my face), we’ve been faced with the reality that when a villain comes on the scene that’s about to enact his plan of world domination, more than just the United States’ cadre of super heroes should be responsible for saving the world.

We’ve also had to deal with some interesting “what-ifs.” One of the most interesting plot twists is: “What if Kal-El’s rocket were launched from Krypton several minutes later than it was, and instead of being found in a Kansas cornfield by John and Martha Kent, he were found in the Ukranian wilderness by a group of collective farmers?” In this tale, young Clark Kent is not taught truth, justice, and the American way. Rather, he is taught the values of communism.

Many people never get to see their favorite bands perform live. They could be Beatles fans born in 1980 or Nirvana fans living in North Dakota. They could have gone so far as to buy tickets to see Tupac in October of ’96 or be Elton John fans who can’t afford to spend over $100 per ticket. There are many things that can keep us from the music we love.

Last week I was lucky enough to see my favorite band perform live. This was the sixth time I’d had such a privilege and I was grateful. Living in Oklahoma, about the only way you can see your favorite band that many times is to be a Steve Miller Band fan. Despite the fact that they’ve only played once in my hometown, (ten years ago), I was on my way to show number six.

This is the story of the time I watched the Counting Crows in Tulsa.

There are days when I sit back and wish that I could still be a child, living out my dreams and fantasies. Most men do, and probably most women. However, in Bart Allen’s case, that’s what gets him into the most trouble and ends up being his most noble quality.

Bart is the Grandson of Barry Allen in the 30th century. He inherited speed from the time he was born. The Earth Government wanted Bart in order to study him and learn how to engineer his speed. Within two years, he aged to age 12. The scientists placed him in virtual reality in order to keep him sane and accelerate his learning. His grandmother, Iris, abducted him and illegally time traveled back to the 20th century in order to have Wally cure Bart of his accelerated growth, before it kills him. Wally understood that it was his accelerated metabolism. He forced Bart to run to the breaking point, where his body wants to give up. Finally, he pushes Bart past this point, jerking his body into a normal growth rate and taming the speed inside.