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Because it’s 2020 and the bastards are in charge and the world’s on fire and goddam it we’ve tried -- haven’t we? -- giving the heroes a chance to stand up and lead the way and show us how it’s done, on the page and on the screen and at the debating lectern, and all it’s got us is an argument over what it means to be a hero, and shouting matches between this lot’s notion of a good person versus that lot’s notion of a good person, and they’re all filthy rich and dead in the heart, and the shadows are oozing with unrealised myth and the workers are hoodwinked by the lords and ladies to misdirect their hatred towards anyone Different, and there’s unfairness in every life, real or imagined, injustice that you can’t fix with laserbeams or super-punching, and fuck! me! these are NOT the stories that get told about capes and science-wizards and rolemodels, they’re the stories that get told about real people, the people who know what it’s like to have nothing but your wits and your words, what it’s like to be selfish and scared but still do the right fucking thing, what it’s like to live with monsters in your mind and in your home, and I thought, I really thought, we were tuning-in to those vibrations with every word and every panel, and you’ll forgive me indulging a moment’s breathless black bitterness to discover that these are the stories that get culled, these are the extremities of the great pop-culture I.P. emanation-factories which are the first to be tossed overboard when the storm rises on the horizon. We are the lizard’s tail. -- Si Spurrier on Hellblazer's cancellation
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