The "problem" is that Comic-Con is so damned successful. People who are there seem to have a wonderful time. The very size of it makes it exciting. Wherever you look, there's something exciting. The attendees are always looking around for a familiar face. It's either 'There's a movie star!' Or, 'There's a TV star!' Or, 'There's the guy who drew the Green Lantern!' It means so much to the fans. It makes them feel like they're where it's happening. It's like Woodstock.

I'm very proud of being a hack. It's why I've lived as long as I have, I think.

The way I'm doing it is I'm trying to think to myself, "Okay, I have the name Superman, and he's going to be a guy that deserves the name 'Superman.' I'm trying to forget about Krypton, about The Daily Planet what would I do if I was thinking it up?" I can do it any way at all..I can make him an Eskimo midget who's toothless and blind... I can do anything. It's difficult .

From 1940 to about 1960, I had been writing just regular comics, the way my publishers wanted me too. He didn't want me to use words of more than two syllables if I could help it. He didn't want me to waste time on worrying about good dialogue or characterization. Just give me a lot of action, lot of fight scenes.

I guess one person can make a difference.

Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.

Once, I'd written a Western story, and one of the panels was just a hand holding a six-shooter, and there was a puff of smoke coming out of the barrel, and a straight horizontal line, indicating the trajectory of the bullet. So that page was sent back to me from the Code office, saying that the particular panel was too violent. I asked them what they meant, and they told me--I swear--"The puff of smoke is too big." Well, of course. So I had the artist make the smoke a little smaller, and the youth of America was saved.