Every Superman origin story is kookie, but each story is kookie in its own way.
I buy Christopher Reeve as a Kansas farmboy much more than Byrne's version. J.B's Clark seems to come from metrosexual Smallville, where guys wear really tight T-shirts and fitted formal shirts they bought at Abercrombie and Fitch; where they publish novels and unlike other writers really never have to struggle but instantly are welcomed on the cocktail circuit; where they are less salt of the earth and more know-it-all sophisticates. No wonder Lois hates the guy, he has the depth of a platinum credit card.
Byrne's Clark really seems more alien than his Superman (not that there's much effort to distinguish one from the other).
Counterpoised to that is Byrne's Ma and Pa Kent who are at once buried in every stereotype about farm folk and yet look so frail and small that one wonders how they managed all those years on their own without a big, strapping lad to do the chores.
Of course, just like every other Superman origin story, Byrne's exists simply so every other writer and artist can ignore it or warp it to their own needs. Ma and Pa Kent escape from their American Gothic prison to become flesh and blood individuals. Clark emerges as a more honest portrait of a guy from the sticks living in the big city.
However, one of the pleasures of comics is finding the funny in the stories. And if we don't take them too seriously, Byrne's comics deliver up a lot of funny.
This is the best comment I've read on the origins. I never thought about it like that before, but it's absolutely right--we don't want origin stories to give us too much information, otherwise the writers have nothing to play with afterward. There should be enough spaces in the life of the character that there's room to dance around the facts.