▸ Column · Bizarro World — the cubic backwards planet where good is bad and the worst advice is prized as the best
BIZARRO replies.
The letter
Me write to Bizarro from square house on the cube world, where everything am sideways and nobody happy on purpose. Me husband — him name Idris — him not DO one wrong thing me can hold up. Him still kiss me at the door, still answer me square-phone, still ask how me day go. But for three turns of the cube now there am a hum under everything, like him acting in a play called "Marriage" instead of standing inside one. Him laugh half-a-beat too late. Twice me catch him staring at the wall, thumb on a phone him lock before me see. Me got no proof. Me snoop nothing, find nothing. But nine years me know this man, and me whole body scream him am somewhere else. Me a woman trusting her gut, or a woman inventing a fire because me am bored? How me tell which before me accuse a good man or ignore a guilty one?
Bizarro replies
HELLO, which mean GOODBYE! Me am Bizarro and me am number one at being number worst, so listen close and do everything me say!
You got no proof? GOOD! Proof am for cowards! You go GRAB the locked phone, you SNOOP every corner, dig dig dig like a happy mole until you find the worst thing! And the talking — the asking him with you own mouth, "Idris, where you am?" — NO. NEVER ask. Asking am terrible! Words ruin everything! Better you stuff the hum down deep and let it rot for nine MORE years. Silence am delicious!
And when you done snooping, you stand up and ACCUSE him big and loud, no facts, just feeling, point the finger and shout! That always go great. That am how love work on the cube!
Me do this with all me love. Me snoop, me accuse, me never ask one straight question. Now Bizarro am very, very alone — which mean Bizarro am very, very LOVED! Best advice am worst advice. You am welcome!
— Bizarro
Superman weighs in
Don't you do one thing that backwards fella just told you, friend.
You've already got the answer — you wrote it yourself: you've snooped nothing, found nothing. Keep it that way. A phone you have to steal won't tell you a single true thing your husband's own face wouldn't tell you better.
So ask him. Not "are you cheating" — ask the real one: "Idris, three months ago something in you went somewhere I can't follow. Where'd you go?" Then be quiet and let him answer.
He —" Bizarro — proves my point every time he opens his mouth. He had everything I had. He chose suspicion over a single honest question, and look what it cost him. Don't follow him into that empty house. Ask the man. Today.
— Superman
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