ROLDO: Still breaking news.

Unless you've been hiding in your own Fortress of Solitude, you've probably heard that this year marks the 70th anniversary of Superman, created by writer Jerry Siegel and artist Joe Shuster inside Siegel's Glenville home. Local comic geeks have even organized an entire "Summer of Superman" to pay homage to the legendary Man of Steel. Now, however, it seems the only thing that could make the battle to celebrate the history of Superman in Cleveland more contentious is if General Zod himself managed to escape from the Phantom Zone to wage war upon our city.

The effort to restore Siegel's homestead and possibly create a Superman museum has — like the unexpected appearance of fifth-dimensional cretin Mr. Mxyzptlk — suddenly taken a turn for the worse. On Monday, Michael Levin, the former chairman of the Superman Committee overseeing the summer festivities, sent out an e-mail blasting Positively Cleveland President Dennis Roche for usurping his position. Levin claims to have spent $20,000 on the projects to date: travel to New York to speak with a team from DC Comics, legal fees for establishing a 501(c)3 for the group, and on preliminary museum designs by Dennis Barrie, a well-known local cultural historian.

But Levin says Roche replaced him with Richard Pace, who runs a local real estate firm. Also now in the mix is Rock Hall president (and former CEO of Marvel Comics) Terry Stewart, who is negotiating with his former nemesis, DC Comics, for its blessing to host Superman events in town.

"I have it all set up to go," says Levin. "I have all the money raised. But Dennis can't make any money that way. Instead, they're going to scam as much money as possible and screw it up. Watch, they'll go to the Port Authority to get money to build the museum and Pace will design it. This doesn't smell fishy, this smells like dead fish."

Levin has never been one to mince words. The nephew of Maxine Goodman Levine, for whom the Cleveland State University College of Urban Affairs is named, Levin is perhaps best known for his unsuccessful attempt to recall mayor Jane Campbell in 2003.

Roche says Levin's recent e-mails "contain a level and intensity that does surprise me." He wouldn't elaborate. Cleveland police called Levin Monday morning and advised him to knock it off.

"Positively Cleveland was asked to support this committee's efforts," says Roche (who also claims he had no real influence on Pace's appointment to the committee). "We want this thing to grow. I don't think a museum is achievable. But over the course of four or five years we could put together a large annual festival that draws people in from out of town to spend money in Cleveland."

Counters Levin: "[Roche is] all positive about Cleveland - he doesn't even live in Cleveland!"

Here's one way to settle this: Rent a Superman costume for Roche, and a Batman outfit for Levin, and let them duke it out. — James Renner

ROLDO STRIKES AGAIN

Last Friday, rumors abounded that Plain Dealer staffers were planning a silent protest against layoffs at their own paper, outside the office, by walking up and down the sidewalk carrying black balloons (it's a tradition around here — Beacon Journal reporters decorated their computers with black balloons when layoffs were announced there in 2001). The planned protest was reported by Editor & Publisher, but no pictures were captured of the event. And certainly, The Plain Dealer didn't cover it. And, if not for local muckraker Roldo Bartimole — a beloved curmudgeon and Cleveland Journalism Hall of Fame inductee, who was once called "the poor man's Tom Paine" — it's unlikely anyone outside the daily paper would yet know about their impending cutbacks.

Bartimole broke the story on June 10, in a post at RealNeo.us: "Top Plain Dealer executives — Publisher Terry Egger and Editor Susan Goldberg — told worried editorial staff members yesterday that the business climate is so bad that the paper plans to cut 35 pages a week from its news pages and 20 percent of its workforce," wrote Bartimole, who was tipped off by long-standing contacts within the paper, for which he once reported. He also wrote that the paper would lose half of its op-ed content as well as special sports sections and Monday's business section.

Bartimole's post was cited in articles by Crain's Cleveland Business and WKYC, a rarity for a blogger.

Last week, Plain Dealer publisher Terrance Egger was forced to respond to Bartimole's reporting in an interview with Editor & Publisher. "It's not 100 percent accurate," he said, while acknowledging "tough decisions" needed to be made in the near future. Bartimole shot back: "Eggers isn't playing straight and this makes the news of the cuts more disturbing."

On Monday, Eggers contacted Bartimole via e-mail to arrange a time to discuss the leaking news — a gesture of respect never before seen in this corner of the blogosphere. — JR

ANOTHER BRUSH WITH THE LAW

Randy Brush got some solid whiffs of what ails America in recent years, after serving nearly a year of a three-year prison sentence for getting caught growing four marijuana plants on the roof of his rural Wellsville home ("Just What the Doctor Ordered," Jan. 24, 2007). The middle-aged, now-divorced father of three teens was adamant: He was using the home pharmacy to calm the effects of a multitude of medical ailments and pharmaceutical side-effects: Arthritis. High blood pressure. Depression. And on...

But try telling that, then or now, to Republican Judge C. Ashley Pike of Columbiana County, who openly called Brush a lowlife in court for quixotically assuming the medical cannabis defense and attracting so many potheads to the courthouse.

At the time, Brush blamed his then-wife for tipping off the authorities. He's not sure who's responsible this time for why the DEA rammed through the doors of his new Columbiana County apartment on May 28 with a fresh search warrant from Pike, more than a year after he was released from a halfway house in Cleveland.

"They got me down and handcuffed me and were screaming, "Where is it? Where is it?' and I was like, "I'm not helping you out this time around, guys,'" the 48-year-old recalled via phone Monday while enjoying a camping trip with two of his three kids. "I had two plants but I destroyed them before they could get to them."

In all, Brush estimates the feds found "not even an ounce" for their troubles — a weight he believes will prevent a grand jury from levying new felony charges. That doesn't mean he doesn't fear the worst.

"This county is ruled by Republicans," Brush says. "[Pike] was angry I got out early. He wanted me sitting in jail. But if I go to court again, I promise a show. I won't pay a fine or court costs or anything. I'll go to jail. It doesn't bother me. I'm going to have them wheel me everywhere I have to go, too [due to arthritis]. You know how much I'll cost them?"

Brush says his medical conditions cost the state as much as $250,000 for his 10 months of incarceration, including an appendectomy that was long-overlooked because medical staff didn't believe his complaints of lingering pain.

"I'm just doing what I can to live," he says, "and I don't think most people would want the law devoting these kinds of resources for something like this. ... I'm sure they're going to try to throw the book at me, but punishing people who are sick for trying to do something to help themselves - that's going to make them look worse than me." — Dan Harkins