Q: Are gamma rays and x-rays the same?

A: Common question. Had it myself. Being the "can-do" type, (as evident by my homemade alarm system, a bag of cats suspended over every door,) I decided to conduct my own experiments to discover the answer.

One experiment really. While my son slept, I bombarded him with x-rays to see if he would turn into the Hulk or some Hulk-like being. If x-rays and gamma rays are the same, my experiment would be an immediate success. Where once I had a son who cried at the sight of squirrels, now I would have an eight-foot tall green monster able to swing trains cars like baseball bats. With a son like that, it's doubtful the soccer moms would continue to reject my advances.

As you might imagine, not all experiments go as planned. Instead of adding three hundred pounds of muscle and gaining the ability to leap three miles at a time, my son sat around all day crying and wheezing and complaining that his insides burned. Thankfully, the crying stopped after three days. Unfortunately, so did the moving, and the breathing and the general condition known as "being alive."

I guess it's back to the drawing board.

That's my little euphemism for prison.

Q: What is the main difference between the public and private sectors?

A: In the public sector a certain amount of transparency is required. How you get your money, where it goes, how you make hiring decisions, whether or not you obey laws, who you've punched in the face or sexually harassed - the general public expects to know these things. All that openness and honesty, let's face it, is exhausting. In the public sector you can't even sideswipe a school bus without everyone demanding an apology. Don't even get me started on hiding dead bodies.

In the private sector all that matters is the bottom line. Make enough money to keep the stockholders happy and you can do anything in your personal life. No one will care. Make enough money so the stockholders can retire at 42 and buy their own sports franchise or Third World army and you can do anything, publicly, and no one's going to lift a finger. Sure some idealistic reporter might think they can make their name with a big expose, but those never last. Idealistic young reporters disappear every day. No one seems to mind.

So, do you really want to use those wonderful powers - flight, super-strength, super-hearing, invulnerability - that our sun gives you, to work in the public sector as a champion of the people, the same people who will turn on you in one hot second if you happen to accidentally drop a bullet train on an old folks home, or impregnate a county full of lonely cheerleaders, or do you want to come work in the private sector, where you'll be defending people who really need protection - our nation's millionaire industrialists? Did I mention that you'll be able to get away with murder? Literally? We do a lot of overseas contracting. Don't pretend you haven't thought about how many ways you could dismember someone with your heat vision.

So, what's it going to be? Are you ready to join the winning team?

I knew you'd make the right decision, Clark. You're going to enjoy your new life as Exxon Mobil Man.

Q: Is air considered matter?

A: On a molecular level, yes. On a useful, super-heroic level, no.

When you first showed up at our headquarters and introduced yourself as Matter-Eater Lad, I admit, we all had a good laugh. Just to be clear, the laugh was at your expense. Can you really blame us? Here we are, the Legion of Super-Heroes, the greatest superhero organization in the universe, and you show up, a fat kid with a ridiculous name. We figured we could make you run errands, trip you in the halls, smack your belly until you cry, then run you out of town, like we did with Metric Conversion Boy. But cooler heads prevailed and someone, probably Superboy, said "Hey, let's give this Lad a chance. His ability to consume all forms of matter might come in useful."

You see what happened there. He assumed you could consume all forms of matter. Planets. Gases. Missiles. Intergalactic telepathic starfish. Sentient supercomputers. Boats. Matter that, when consumed, might prove useful.

But you can't. All you seem to be able to "consume" is air.

You might call yourself Matter-Eater Lad, but you're nothing more than a fat kid trying to catch his breath. Was the name Constant-Disappointment-To-Parents Lad already taken?