I’ve been thinking that Galactus is basically the ultimate expression of that old stereotype of the bitter, entitled old man. For the sake of clarity, I’m not endorsing faith in that stereotype. I know the folly of such things. Indeed, I could almost be the face of the stereotype of the entitled young man, but that does little to bolster its validity.
Anyway, I’m thinking about this guy. This guy who holds on fiercely to the fashions of a bygone era. This man who refuses to give up his giant old car despite its obvious inconveniences and the fact that he doesn’t even really need it.
Your grandfather's Edsel fills the entire garage. Galactus's Worldship fills an entire solar system.
He devours worlds for a living. The consumption of planets is literally what he does to live. Healthy planets. The sorts of planets that often support life. Despite the gargantuan scale of the atrocities he has committed in search of a good meal, he seems less willing than most to countenance any aspersions on his morality. On the contrary, he feels that whatever he's done is fair because he's been through a lot. Nothing's going to change him. He's old and set in his ways.
“You’ve really got to stop eating all of these planets, Galactus. It’s bad form.” “But I’m an old man!” “That’s not an excuse.” “I’ve been through hardships!” “Like what? World War II?” “The death of my universe.” “Yeah, well. We’ve all got problems.”