George Lucas
Marvel

This is not our topic today: We hope you're not too sad.

So yes, as you have likely heard, the Obama-Meets-Spidey issue of Amazing Spider-Man comes out today.

This has duly occasioned the predictable, but no less puzzling, mainstream media response that such publicity stunts are engineered to bring about. If you're interested, you can read about it here, or here, or here, or here or here.

Not here, though.

No, here we've got bigger, less nakedly exploitative Spider-fish to fry, namely: Marking the one-year anniversary of the Quickie Divorce that Quite Literally Changed the (Marvel) Universe.

After the jump: A disquisition on matters matrimonial and meta-human, or: Why the cosmic annulment of Spidey's marriage to Mary Jane made for a better comic, and why Lois and Clark need couples counseling.

 

Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson: Well, you can't say those two crazy kids didn't make a run at it.

George Lucas
Marvel

If only they'd known: Spider-Man and his sweetheart, in what lazy caption-writers call "happier times."

Since they got hitched in 1987, their marriage had managed to weather most of the usual domestic storms that couples face: financial worries, heated arguments, trial separations, Spider-clones.

And because comic-book characters tend not to age, they managed to remain relative newlyweds even as they notched 20 years together. Neat trick.

It wasn't all kittens and Skittles, of course: This is Spidey we're talking about. A character whose default setting is Mope. His time-tested schtick is sad-sack superhero; he's the spandex-clad patron saint of awkward — and arrested — adolescence.