TBT #10: Superheroes
The weirdest part about right now is that I don’t think I can write about my life. I’m living as someone I’m not quite sure of. To write about me would be to write about a character who doesn’t make a lot of sense right now. These days, I’ve started thinking I’m a shady character, a man in black, a super villain, cackling as he schemes. And I can’t write about that, because I’ve never thought of myself like this before.
These are the Best Things Ever for October 1, 2004.
The Last Son Of Us
The superheroes will define us. It’s strange, I know, but in ten thousand years, when the Moon Men are excavating our culture from under a mass of stuffed dogs and plastic keychains, the superhero will be seen as a major component of the culture in the twentieth (and twenty-first) century. And it won’t be because superhero stories are particularly any better than the vast majority of art being produced in our lifespans, but rather because the superhero is one of the few cultural elements, as far as storytelling goes, that is utterly unique to this time period.
All that other stuff people write about — romance, horror, adventure, existentialism — has been done for hundreds of years, in most cases better than what we’re doing now. So much ground has been covered that we’ve grown tired of honest and straightforward fiction. We’re all about twist endings these days, or, worse, a sort of wry, sarcastic narrative that implies emotion instead of showing it.
Superheroes are our last gasp at purity. Here we have a medium that revels in the hackeneyed, that is typified by a style of dialogue that’s so far removed from real life that it’d be remarkably laughable if we weren’t so used to it. Men in tights, with powers the written word hasn’t employed since the Greek Gods.
They represent one of the few artistic innovations of the last 100 years.
How could you have known?
So what does it mean? Especially for us, a generation of (mostly) males who have grown up watching and reading stories about Superman, Spider-Man, the X-Men and the Justice League of America. I will not — this time, anyway — speak for everyone, but it’s given me a strange sense of morality. A kind of unwavering desire to be good. I don’t know where it comes from — Spider-Man lifting the foundation of the Daily Bugle building to save his aunt’s life, Captain America staring down a Cosmic Cube-empowered Thanos, an aged Batman refusing to break the Joker’s neck even knowing everything he’s done… — stories I read when I was nine years old.
And it’s fucked because, seriously, though it is desirable to be a good person on this earth, it is impossible to be uncompromising. I’d love to be able to stand in the face of something I perceive in wrong and denounce it, but it doesn’t really happen for me. More often that not, I find myself compromising, going along with the crowd, sitting down when I should stand up.
They need me to save the world
I’d love to save the world. I remember writing, in a 9th grade English project, that I wanted more than anything was to make a difference in this world. As I grow up, I get more and more cynical, however, and it’s at the point now where I mock those who think they can change the world. Environmentalism, student politics, protesting — these aren’t things I respect. I’ve become resigned to taking only a small place on this earth, my only great impact being maybe writing the occasional sappy story that evokes feelings of melancholy or, on a good day, tears.
Maybe I’m more like Electro than I am like Spider-Man. Maybe I’m more like The Penguin than I am like Batman. Maybe I’m Dr. Doom in jeans and a T-shirt — guilty not of ruling a small Eastern European nation with an iron fist, but of abandoning the ideals that so inspired me when I was younger. And, honestly, I’d rather have the small Eastern European nation.
I hear Latervia is lovely this time of year
Things are getting worse. Everything that was superheroic about me is being washed away by petty dislike and long conversations behind people’s backs. I’m losing touch with maturity, much less heroism, and I’m becoming increasingly worried that I might not be a good person after all. I have no right to a cape.
Take a stand. Be a man. I want a last stand at an OK Corral. I want a defining moment, that people will remember with fireworks. I want to feel like I can stop bullets with my chest. I want something to fight for. Something, even, to die for.
People that can fly
People aren’t superheroes because people are complicated. There’s more to life than good and evil, no matter what Ayn Rand tells you, and I guess maybe it takes those who grew up reading about people in spandex longer than others to realize that. I’d love to live in a world of possibility, of absolutes, of heroes and villains and the inevitable victory of one over another. I’d love to fly away and save the world.
But people can’t fly, can they?
This week’s song is So You Wanna Be A Superhero by a band called Carissa’s Weird. I’m convinced it’s beautiful.
It’s hard to write this song,
Matt
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You’ve GOT to stop being so poignant and awesome all the time. It’s hard to read so early in the morning, I feel like I have to DO something with my day…
Ditto about the poignancy. I especially enjoy the ‘I can’t write about myself anymore’ intro and BOOM, a few paragraphs, it’s just that.
Take away the sarcasm and you’d have praise; I’m too much of an internet nerd to say things directly.
Hi.
Comments on your form aside, the paragraph on how you’d love to save the world is one of interest. You say you’d love to do that, to save the world, but I wonder why. I mean, what’s your motivation? This is an important question to ask because, among other things, the answer is truly the fuel to the success of such miraculous endeavours.
Why would someone want to save the world? I mean, do you have to DO things in order to be heroic? In my mind, actions aren’t what make people heroic. Superman isn’t a superhero because he can run fast or jump high or see through clothes or whatever. He’s a hero because of his heart. It’s not the act that makes you the hero. You don’t have to DO much of anything to be heroic. You don’t have to save the world to be a hero. You just have to feel like one.
There’s more to this defintion of heroism than just having heart, of course. With your beliefs in what’s good comes the responsibility of upholding that heart. That responsibility might call upon you to do things. And, you know, the thing you do, that thing that’s motivated by your good intentions, that might not be the nicest thing in the world to do. I mean, it might be gross. It might even be DANGEROUS. Or it might break someone’s heart. Make them angry. But you gotta do them. Why? because you have a responsibility to yourself and your beliefs TO do them.
I like to think that I know you. I know you have a good heart, filled with good intention. If the above rant is true, then what you have in your heart is the fuel to be a hero. If you uphold your beliefs and do things for people with the right intentions, and not only will you be able to accomplish them, but because you’ve accomplished them with the right motivations, you’ll already be more heroic than most people out there. And you know, people might not appreciate what you do, sometimes, but if you did it from the heart, then you did it right.
Really, I’m convinced that the hero inside you is not dead. You must have done SOMETHING that fits the above definition of heroism.
Everyone post a hero moment in your life! I got one!
You always manage to write so much in this tiny little box.
I don’t know if it’s the same for girls or not, but for guys, we got this whole tough guy hero thing to deal with. We wanna be cowboys, real John Wayne badasses — this no-bullshit archetype that stares down that which threatens his life and never, ever shows emotion. We’re the rocks, you know?
I really try hard to be this rock. But unfortunately it’s led to some of the hardest moments in my life — when I have to admit that I am NOT strong enough. That I can’t be the pillar to learn on anymore. I get myself into these situations where I am all set to be the heroic “I’ll be there for you” sort of guy, and then it just gets to the point where I’m overwhelmed.
And so I give up so I don’t lose my mind completely.
I have no idea what the most heroic thing I’ve ever done is. I tend to dwell more on my heroic failures, because they make for more poignant writing.
Matt
I like to call this box the “tangent” box. I have big tangents! And this box is way too small for them. You must enlarge it somehow. I demand it.
I don’t know if the idea of “being the rock” can be limited to just males. I mean, different people take on that role, and that’s not so much precipitated by gender, but rather by the role they play in their little communities. Like, take me, for example. I’m no rock, by any means! But my sister is. Quite possibly the strongest force I’ve ever had to reckon with. She’s the eldest, and she’s forged so much ground for both me and my brother to walk on, it’s no surprise that she’s a natural pillar in our little community of three siblings.
For you, I would suspect your rock-like abilities comes from your unusually empathetic ways (unusual for a dude, anyways). People feed off that, it would seem, and look to you for it. I suppose that’s how you’ve become a rock. And it’s also an indication of how easy it is for you to fail AS a pillar in your society — I mean, did you ever really apply for the position of “rock” in your life? It was just sorta thrust upon you. You’re just trying to do the best you can in the position you’re in.
That aside, I suppose it’s not a fair thing to ask you what your most heroic act is — it’s hard to get people to toot their own horn, sometimes! Besides, stories of heroism are best told in the third person, I think. From a perspective that doesn’t have to appreciate acts of heroism as a selfless things, you dig?
I have a hero story of yours to tell. I remember it well. I won’t mention it here, because it’s personal in nature, but, yeah, I’ve seen you be a hero.
I suppose, if you want to be a hero, and not turn to the dark side with the likes of Dr. DOOM, and Doctor Octopus and other NEFARIOUS doctors, you could try remembering the last heroic thing you did, and try to emulate it once more. You know, get a feel for it again.
Yeah, I never wanted to be a rock. I wanted to be THE ROCK, because, man, that guy’s got the best catchphrases, but the being a rock thing just sort of happened.
So what’s YOUR hero story?