Saturday, June 05, 2004

I made a promise yesterday and I intend to deliver. I don't want to say anything about the TMG today except that last night, The Hyphen came over and the two of us had a nice log chat about it. I'm gonna let things cool off this week while she is out of town and drop the bombs over Baghdad when she return at the end of next week.

That said, lets talk about Superman. I take that back, let's talk about Smallville. Why Smallville? Here we can see Superman in his teen angst years, coming to terms with his responsibility and sacrifice. The kid is fucking Superman, but with that power comes a certain necessity for moral responsibility. His power becomes a source of pain. It becomes a way for him to shut himself out from the world. He can't be with Lana Lang because he knows he needs to focus himself on saving people and because he knows it will hurt her in the end. So he is resigned, like all men consumed by their work or a greater purpose, to eventually shut out the rest of the world and rely purely on his own faculties. It's inevitable. You must resign yourself to solitude.

Why the hell do you think Superman is still so popular? Or any Superhero for that matter? The girls don't have a clue but the guys all know. Every guy who has ever lived wanted, at some point, to be a superhero. When he is a little kid that's all he dreams about. But I think that , eventually, all men settle and move on with their lives. But there is always the latent superhero buried deep within. Superman Never has to settle. But what would happen if one day he were forced to settle? Or maybe he wanted to settle. Sure, for a few weeks it would be great. He would call up Lana, he would take her out he would hang out with his friends and life would feel normal. But life would not be normal. He would be stuck as Clark Kent. Soon he would feel purposeless and depressed and would start to get bogged down in the monotony of the daily drone. "I was fucking Superman!" he would think to himself, but it made no difference now. He would want to run away. He would have to face his true self.

Just like every other male in America, I let those superdreams infect my thoughts. When I was a kid growing up, it was Thundercats or Transformers or Spiderman. Slowly all those faded away and I watch that glimmer of superhero greatness in my friend's eyes dwindle and suffocate. They were all driven, smart and amazing people, but they knew that superheros they weren't. My flame dwindled to a mere flicker, but somehow it survived. And when I found my super cool sports activity, it found a host and it lay quietly, laying little seeds of superherodom. And I didn't want to listen but I did. The flame grew slowly and so did my talent. A few years later, the true colors began to show. I was getting good. People's jaws dropped, they rubbernecked as I went by and slowly but surely, I was a superhero. It got inside my head. When I took of my gear and was Clark Kent, no one had a clue. But I couldn't let my guard down even as CK. I was a superhero. It consumed me. I got to travel , I got to showcase my skills and the smart, driven guy inside took a backseat. He was watching. He said "fuck it. I'm a superhero. Who cares about anything else?" I rode that wave for a long time. I didn't need a girlfriend. I became cut off from the world and it was OK, I was a superhero. It was a drug. Then, this April. I decided I was done. I needed to move on. I had to break the habit. I hadn't had a serious girlfriend in the 6 years, I hadn't had a real job, I hadn't made any plans for the future (and I hadn't needed any of these things because I was set). I stopped being smart and creative and productive. It was a trap. So I swallowed some kryptonite and I was CK permanently. (the fact that I am also a journalist is a coincidence, I swear). But CK didn't have much. He was kind of a loner because he had become pretty one dimensional. The Sport was the depth, and without that, where was the excitement. Was I anything without my superpower? I began to piece things back together. I Started at the magazine, reconnected with old friends and tried to imagine a future being normal, growing old, working 9 to 5 and falling in love. I was settling, I was just doing it quite a few years later then all my friends. So that's where this blog began. I had to chronicle. I needed somewhere to piece things back together. Here I am. Really, I think it is more interesting that watching CK chase Lana around for 4 seasons with no resolution, but I'll let you be the judge.

Whew! That was a lot. If brevity is the soul of wit then I am an imbecil. Tomorrow I'll get back to the fun stuff. Have I broke a promise yet?


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