For generations, Superman stood as the cultural blueprint for the ideal man. He embodied strength paired with restraint, courage guided by conscience, confidence anchored in humility. He was the man who could lift mountains yet chose gentleness, who could rule the world yet chose to serve it. Boys looked up to him not just for his powers, but for his virtues, a model of what a man could aspire to be at his best. But that man is no more. The new Superman (2025) movie opens with a stunning reversal of everything he once represented. The first image we see is not steadiness or strength but helplessness: Superman, bloodied and defeated, sprawled face-down in the snow, crying out for help. His dog, Krypto, arrives, not as a loyal companion, but as a chaotic, disobedient force that bounces on his injured body, worsening his wounds, then drags him for miles across the frozen ground like a captive in an old Western. Our first encounter with this new Superman is not inspiration: it i...
When people talk about Two and a Half Men , they usually describe it as lighthearted fun, a classic sitcom built on raunchy jokes, exaggerated characters, and over-the-top scenarios. But underneath all the easy laughs, the show quietly delivers a message about marriage that is far darker and more corrosive than most viewers ever acknowledge. And I think that message has done real harm. The problem isn’t that the writers set out to attack marriage, or that the show is making some philosophical argument. Intent doesn’t matter. Impact does. And the impact is plain: the show repeatedly portrays marriage as a terrible deal for men, something naïve men fall into and pay for the rest of their lives. For 12 seasons, Alan Harper is the audience’s case study in marital misery. His divorce isn’t just a plot point; it becomes the defining feature of his entire life. He is chronically broke, paying alimony, paying child support, losing his home, and losing his dignity. And every time he tries...