No More Superheroes

Originally submitted by: Sandy Bottoms on Culture

This week we see the opening of [i]Hancock [/i]and next week the second installment of the new Batman series, [i]The Dark Knight[/i]. Both are new-age superheroes, bitter and scarred young men considering their own potential, their own ambition, and what to do with power and knowledge.

In a post-9/11 world, which is still the world we are living in, what is the role of a person with supernatural powers? And what are supernatural powers? Many of us looked at the burning towers almost seven years ago, and half expected to see a muscle-bound man in a cape bound to our rescue. Heroes did enter the situation. Politicians became involved. Sacrifices were made.

And now a war has erupted. Heroes are made and unmade. Heroes are falsely generated in the media, in the instance of Pat Tillman. His All-American good looks and noble intentions created a powerful myth. And myth is a component of hope. But we need more than myth. We need more than hope. We need to see results, do we not? Heroism is still a tough thing to deal with. The one who produces results is the true hero. Or is heroism just self-agrandizement? Are many heroics just cheap heroics? One would think that a man with McCain's war record would take a nobler stance against this war. One wants to trust in the experience and wisdom of a hero. But as his personality and volatility come to the fore, and as the Left relishes in his undoing, his war experience becomes more of a myth. It becomes hazy, a thing we do not recognize in him any more. We see a broken old man with marital problems. An angry, embittered and brainwashed soldier for the new Right.

John McCain's war record is heroic. Barack Obama's accomplishments are heroic. Historical records of past presidents tend to undo and besmirch the heroism of our heroes. There is a desire to knock down Abraham Lincoln, dispute his emotional stability, his sexuality, his marriage, and his motives.

If the a person consists of the sum of their own deeds, then how do we judge ourselves? Our media is quicker to knock down a hero than celebrate them. Nothing is sacred any longer in an open-source media. The unethical practices we learned from popular news sources now come into our own practices as bloggists, online journalists, and media junkies. Our desire is only partly for the news itself. What we really like is the dirt underneath.

So when we buy our ticket and submit ourselves to the probing existential dilemmas of Batman and Hancock, what are we exploring? Are we turned on? Are we seeing ourselves and our own potential? Are we fantasizing that we could be more than we are? Do we want, always, more than what we have?

Yes, certainly. But this holiday, I want to celebrate the quieter acts of heroism. I want to reflect and smile on the friends and strangers who intervened in my life. The man who yanked me out from in front of a speeding taxi in New York, whose lightning reflexes I remember, while his face? I can't remember, not fully.

I want to remember a choice I made to stop and help a woman who had been assaulted. She came running up to my car one late night, and in a flash, I decided to welcome her in and take her to safety. Maybe the biggest moment of heroism in my own life.

I want to celebrate the local heroes who create communities, who lead benevolent projects, and who do it not for their own benefit, but because it is the right thing to do. I want to celebrate mentors, parents, and grandparents from another age altogether.

I want to celebrate loyalty. I want to celebrate sober judgment. I want to celebrate sacrifice. I will no doubt see the superhero films. I will undoubtedly enjoy myself. I will finish watching [i]Lawrence of Arabia [/i]this week. I will again watch [i]I'm Not There[/i]. I will intervene when I am needed in this world.

But please, please please. No more superheroes. They are all looking the same to me lately. And our desires for them are seriously waning. A young man who could save the world. But can't save himself. A betrayal. A love interest. A political conspiracy. And a high-end job in a major corporation. A real renaissance man.

I should clean out my gutters. They have tiny trees growing in them. That would make me a true hero around my house.