God>> OK, I’m going to explain this once and for all. This is why there’s evil in the world.
[A train rolls by, drowning out God’s voice. All we see is God performing a series of bizarre hand gestures. The train rolls into the distance.]
Bob>> Wow. When you explain it like that, it all makes such perfect sense.
– From the short-lived cartoon God, the Devil & Bob
I’ve been called many names in my life. I’ve gone by many names in my life. But the one that always rattles me the most is “evil.” Perhaps it comes from having been raised on a steady diet of comic books, cartoons, and morality fables. Naturally, most little boys want to grow up to be Prince Charming, Superman, or Snake Eyes. Very few people want to be the Evil Sorcerer, Lex Luthor, or Cobra Commander. With these pop culture fables having formed the foundation of my moral compass, I have always tried my best to be the good guy. When someone points at me and accuses me of being evil, I often find myself, like Daredevil, just sitting in the shadows muttering to myself, “But I’m not the bad guy.” In essence, whenever I’m accused of being evil, I’m naturally consumed by self-analysis trying to figure out exactly what I did was wrong.