A picture taken on May 3, 2014, (released June 12), shows people visiting “The Gateway to Hell,” a huge burning gas crater in the heart of Turkmenistan’s Karakum desert. The fiery pit was the result of a simple miscalculation by Soviet scientists in 1971 after their boring equipment suddenly drilled through into an underground cavern and a deep sinkhole formed. Fearing that the crater would emit poisonous gases, the scientists took the decision to set it alight, thinking that the gas would burn out quickly and this would cause the flames to go out. But the flames have not gone out in more than 40 years.
Photo credit:Igor Sasin/AFP/Getty Images, found at The Atlantic: InFocus.
Doom is — extremely dangerous. He sees himself as the Overman — he’s overcome human failings to become something greater than human. I’d say it’s quite Nietzschian, but Doom thinks he’s a better philosopher than Nietzsche, and he’s had several books of philosophy published to prove it.
From an interview with alewing about his new “Tenth Realm” comic. I love this aside about DOOM. It reminds me of my favourite ever Doom scene, in (I think) the DAZZLER AND BEAST miniseries from the mid-80s, where Doom is in his castle admiring his art collection and his impeccable taste, and - it really helps here that the artist is a mid-drawer mid-80s Marvel artist - the actual pieces of art are clearly completely horrible, souvenir shop tat: a crystal statuette of a rearing stallion, etc.
Doom’s insane self-belief is his defining trait, which is usually treated as hubris (he’s almost as smart as Reed and it’s his insistence he’s smarter that stops him ever becoming so), occasionally as admirable (Secret Wars!) but also just as a nightmarish halo effect - Doom of course believes he is great at everything, because he is Doom, and the definition of great for a given thing warps to the precise shape of Doom’s capabilities at it. (This is, in my experience, generally true of rich or powerful men, whose several books of philosophy clog the business racks at airpoirts - which makes Doom an even more enduring villain.)
In the war film, a soldier can hold his buddy—as long as his buddy is dying on the battlefield. In the western, Butch Cassidy can wash the Sundance Kid’s naked flesh—as long as it is wounded. In the boxing film, a trainer can rub the well-developed torso and sinewy back of his protege—as long as it is bruised. In the crime film, a mob lieutenant can embrace his boss like a lover—as long as he is riddled with bullets. Violence makes the homoeroticism of many “male” genres invisible; it is a structural mechanism of plausible deniability.