King and Fool

These two boggle my mind.

If you recall the early days of superherodom, you might remember King of Diamonds and Jack of Hearts, a vaguely Medieval-, oddly casino-themed crimefighting duo. The former wielded a, supposedly, diamond sword and exerted some power over light, refracting multicolored beams that sometimes burned like Star Wars lasers. The latter, a sharp-tongued acrobat with the ability to slow down time, but only in a subjective way. I heard him explain it once like this: he could project a short range field, very short range, one or two others at his personal best, which dragged his personal timeline to a crawl. This allowed him to move, to his perception, through a quiet, stop-motion world. While to others it looked like he moved at super speed.

Though their power suites put them in the same league as any of the heavyweights, their personalities kept them in the minor leagues and, today, exiles them to a league of their own.

The first breakup came when a then-unknown journalist wrote a story on the two and incorrectly labeled Jack a "sidekick". King of Diamonds refused to publicly correct the error and Jack of Hearts went his own way. The two faded into near obscurity.

Three months pass. A new team of villains appear on the scene: a gun maniac sporting a big black spade on his chest and calling himself Ace and a thug named Jack wielding, predictably, a club. The two appeared to be interested in nothing more than inflicting property damage in New Mexico. There is a media cry for help and King and Jack appear on the scene, dressed in sleek new costumes, to save the day.

The second breakup came a little under a year later when the same journalist, still less famous than he deserves, breaks a story exposing the King of Diamonds as the man who financed the two low-level goons in New Mexico. King tries to justify his actions with a lengthy Internet video in which he is clearly on some kind of amphetamine.

From there, the two decide to embark on solo careers. The Jack of Hearts takes up his former partner's sword, puts on a cape and cap, and restyles himself Jack the Giant Killer, using his time manipulation powers to mimic the mythical character's enchanted shoes, said to grant him inhuman speed. At the same time, the King of Diamonds rebrands himself, I shudder, The King. His white jumpsuit, bedazzled with rhinestones, becomes the central focus of his light-based powers.

These personas fall apart, thankfully, and the parade of names and identities continues. A greatest hits collection would feature Jack, now an anxty anti-hero ala James Dean calling himself Jack Frost and King sporting a scepter and crown, calling himself King Solomon and claiming his powers came from God. He spent much of his time in this phase fighting skinheads in Boston whom he claimed, erroneously, were antisemitic.

The final paradigm shift came when King went rogue (ha) and kidnapped a B-list actress from her billion-dollar wedding to a, much older, A-list director. King declared himself the Crimson King and decreed he was claiming the right of Prima Nocte. Several heroes showed up to right the situation but nobody knew where to look for the odd and erratic King.

Enter Jack, dressed now as a classic jester, his patchwork motley sewn together from the cast-away costumes of his all his former personas. He, apparently, counter-kidnaps the young damsel and returns her to her big-league fiance. Cameras are already rolling. Jack launches into this piecemeal soliloquy, not much more than word salad, declaring he, "Had been a Fool and was thusly-justly to be called."  It isn't minutes before the Crimson King appears and battle commences. Red lasers fly. "Fool" hops madly around, all the while shouting esoteric taunts and calling his former partner "Nuncle".

The battle ends in a standstill.

To this day, the two appear sporadically and duke it out in public. To the rest of us, it seems as though King spends all his time trying to pull one over on Jack and Jack bides his time until the next game. God only knows what it looks like to them.

They remind me of the worlds most dysfunctional marriage.

Wasted potential.

Cheers,

-B.H.