And then she asked me why superheroes were better than real people

Hello, again, folks. I’ve been asked for an essay on why I think superheroes are better than real people by my co-host and the founder of this blog, my mother.

The short and way too easy way to answer this question would be to just write that I am a straight teenage female and most superheroes are studly men, so of course I find them better, but this is only part of why they are better. (le wink-wink)

Also, to set the facts straight, I never said they were “better”, I just stated that I liked them more and then mother ascribed this word to the idea.

For a bit of backstory on this essay (read: professional ramble, since essays are the most drawling thing when you imagine them, in my opinion), you must understand that it started with an argument about whether or not we should’ve gone to see Antman in the theater nearest our humble abode.

To make a long story short, we did not see Antman in the theater nearest our humble abode. We ended up in a pawn shop across town, myself leaving with The Avengers movie in hand, along with a copy of Sahara for my amazingly awesome super-fabulous and perfect and really-really-really cool Uncle Trey, but that’s another story.

Anyway, essay.

Why are my superheroes “better” than real people, as mother put it?

One of her main arguments about modern supers are that their shows/movies are so dark.

I can’t deny this allegation. The world is a dark place. To this, I can hear her replying, “You don’t have to don the barbarian’s robes to batter them away from the doors,” or something to that effect.

Can’t deny that, either, and I admit, it stresses me when superheroes adapt evil’s tricks to ‘good’ purposes.

It’s a bad flashback to “The Greater Good” of Hot Fuzz.

But what I see in superheroes is a drive to complete good, though, much like politicians, no matter how much you want to stay untouched and incorruptible, if you wallow in and beat on the mud, you’re going to get dirty.

She says this is no excuse, I counter with the statement that Trump can’t be elected, he’d be ‘removed’ because nobody could control him, same with Cruz’s sense of upright justice.

But no matter how dark the shows get, the same basic principle is there: Fight the bad guys.

And that’s what I love. They don’t fail, they get up and trudge on like good soldiers.

Which Captain America actually was, earning him his place as my favorite superhero, even over Iron Man. He was a soldier during a stressful time, and even when he wasn’t super, he did his best. Cap was an average Joe presented with an amazing opportunity.

Much like every human being born with legal American citizenship.

Anyway, Cap has exactly what “it” is. People whine about how every super has a troubled past, etc, blah blah blah, but name one person who doesn’t have a past history they might not be happy to talk about.

Superheroes address what we can’t put into words. The deep wish for the power to make things right.

Of course, this could be why Islam hates America. America gives each of its citizens the ability to be a superhero and make things the idealistic right that all free men (men meaning humanity, feminists can suck it, it’s an ancient term) long for.

Superheroes embody what Liberals long for, but don’t understand the meaning of, and what Capitalists work at every day: equality.

Show me one racist superhero. Nothing? Hmmm…. Some would try to follow this with, “Show me a black superhero, (insert some white-slamming ghetto term for females that probably has to do with canines)”.

Yeah, he’s blacker than Obama or NAACP’s Rachel Dolezal, and much more interested in keeping people safe, I’d bet money.

To this, I advise them to go read Green Lantern again. Yeah, there’s totally no black characters in there.

Anyway, back on topic. What do I get out of superheroes? Why are they “better”?

They try. Real people give up, and superheroes don’t. No matter how many times they end up with their butts kicked though a wall by a bigger, tougher bad guy, they find a way to dust off, climb back in the saddle, and beat the bad guy.

This is the American way. Superheroes are a unique factor of America. Whereas Europe came up with stuff like werewolves and vampires and things that come after innocent people and kill them, we imagine people that fight for justice.

Essentially, the heroes of comics are what any good cop, firefighter, soldier, or any idealistic young DA wants to be: a defender of innocent folk, and not bound by bureaucratic red tape.

Once again, though, people can’t trudge though mud without muddying themselves. Cops are told they can’t arrest the politician, firefighters are damaged by the very fires they fight, seeing things just as scarring as the fires, soldiers come home with battle fatigue (PTSD or even shell shock), and the idealist DA comes into hard times and gets paid off.

It’s sad that this is how things turn out, but that’s the 21st century for you, and it’s why our love of supers has come back. People want something that actually fights for what is right, and doesn’t cower and appease and grovel.

So, in addition to being studly and awesome and crime-fight-y, superheroes appeal to the base American dream.

But with all this, she would still come to the conclusion that I was dodging the question: why do I, Olivia, think that superheroes are “better” than real people?

I could go into this, but that would be a bad idea, in my personal, most humble opinion.

However, opinions don’t seem to matter in this instance, so we shall delve into my problems anyway, since this is a bloggy-blog for such things.

Let’s see, strong male figures that never beat women unless those women are the bad guys, and seem to genuinely need a hug every once in awhile. For me, this is the perfect being.

Solve daddy issues and side order of recurring feeling of uselessness in one blow by both being the protected and also being the backup squad.

Have someone treat you nicely? Bonus points.
Show me one wife-beating super, other than Antman, who had a chronic small-man problem and dealt with it by beating his wifu. I guess that’s what happens when everybody else is 500 times your size. Gotta keep a sense of control somehow, I suppose. I’m just glad that his wife was sturdy and got the point of “My husband is surrounded by way bigger, way more powerful people, and he has some insecurities about his masculinity.” Strong men need strong women, period.

This isn’t the point, though. Antman is the exception, much like the Mongols.

All in all, Superheroes are less likely to let you down when you need them.

Unless it’s a season finale. But then you’ll still be rescued in the next couple of episodes. (le wink-wonk)


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