I love superheroes. And Star Trek. Especially Star Trek. Every time I watch an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation and Jean Luc Picard tells someone to “make it so,” I swoon a little. His honor and strength, his boldness and grace under fire… how could you not admire such a figure?
Of course, he can barely talk to children and has a non-existent social life because he believes a captain must maintain a façade of cool and distance to garner the respect of his crew. How lonely. How boring.
Well, no one is perfect, not even Captain Picard.
And that’s a good thing, otherwise you get what I call the Superman Syndrome. I’m talking about the Christopher Reeve, goody goody, holier than thou, can do no wrong Superman (kryptonite-influenced A-hole of Superman III notwithstanding).
Cause… really… is anyone truly and honestly that good?!
The warm fuzzies make me want to gag.
I need my heroes to have flaws. I need them to be relatable. More like me.
I mean, those are the best characters. Tragic, flawed figures who overcome not in spite of their idiosyncrasies, but often because of them. Someone who shows us that the ability to be a hero is inside us all. That you don’t have to be bitten by a radioactive spider or be born with mutant abilities or build an indestructible suit to be special and unique.
All you have to do is care and never stop trying.
In the end, I may write stories about incredible people with amazing abilities, but the real story of those characters is that they’re just like us with all the same thoughts and feelings and fears. They’ll never be Superman, but that doesn’t mean they won’t do everything in their power to kick Lex Luthor’s ass.
And I’d like to think each of us would do the same.
The Blue Effect by Rose Shababy
Rose Shababy came to me recently and said, “Blue, this blogger who wants me to write a guest post about you. I think it makes more sense if you write it.”
I said, “You’re friggin’ kidding, right? I’m not a writer.”
She shrugged and told me I was capable of great things. She said some other stuff after that, but I’d tuned out by that point since it was the same schmaltzy crap my boyfriend’s always trying to feed me. “With great power, blah blah blah.” That kind of thing.
She insisted until I gave in, so here I am. With no idea what to write about.
I guess I could tell you about what a sleaze my mother was, always drunk and bringing pervy men home until she kicked me out when I was sixteen.
I could tell you about how I spent ten years afterward doing my best to turn into her, drinking and sleazing.
I could tell you some sob story about how I felt disconnected from, well, everyone my entire life. No family, no real friends, nothing going for me.
I could tell you that, but I hate sappy, whiny bullsh**. I don’t want to listen to anyone else feel sorry for themselves, why would you want to listen to me?
I think I’d rather tell you about meeting Kasey.
Kasey is the “leader” of our little gang. He doesn’t like to be called that, doesn’t really think he’s in charge, but he’s so nice and diplomatic it just makes sense for him to run the show.
When I met him, I didn’t believe there was anything special about me. The moment we touched hands everything… stopped. Literally. The whole world froze. It was the weirdest f***ing thing you ever saw. At first, I thought Kasey was responsible and didn’t believe him when he said it was me. It took some convincing, and a couple oopsies for me to realize I really did have something inside me.
That’s when all those years of feeling different started to make sense. At the risk of getting all gushy and disgusting, it changed everything.
After Kasey finally convinced me to trust him, he took me to meet the rest of the gang. They showed me their own abilities, and let me tell you… it’s straight-out-of-a-comic-book kind of sh**. Real life superheroes. Minus the spandex.
You’ve never seen anything like these guys.
Kasey can read minds and see deep into your psyche, all the way to memories you can’t remember. And ones you wish you didn’t. He’s like, Super-Nerd, but he really believes all the do-gooder stuff he’s always touting. Being around him makes me want to be a better person. Blech.
Avery can read minds too, plus he can move objects with a single thought. Don’t piss him off, though, or he’ll throw things at you. Like rocks. I know and it hurts like a son of a whore. He’s the strong and silent type. I’m still not sure about him.
Valentina is a human battery. She can suck in all the energy in a room and spit it back at you. It’ll drop you like a sack of ass and she’ll laugh at you the whole time. She’s kind of a bitch but that’s why we’re friends. Like minds and all that.
If Ash had a superhero name it would be something like Super-Hippie or Dirtboy. He can make sh** grow, heal stuff. He’s all super lovey-dovey, tree-hugging, live and let live too. I wouldn’t like that normally, but he’s totally genuine. And easy to like.
Esme always says she doesn’t have any special abilities, but it’s not true. She’s the smartest person you’ve ever met. Kasey and Avery say they’ve never listened to a brain like hers. Ever. I’m pretty sure we’d all be in prison for some of the stuff we’ve done if it wasn’t for her and her gadgets and computers and monitoring all the authorities.
There you have it. That’s my family now. They showed me how to use the power inside me. They showed me I could be a better person if I wanted. They gave me more than I ever thought possible. We’ve laughed together, cried together.
We even took on a super villain together. Some things happened in the process and even though it’s over now, I’m afraid that it’s not really over.
Maybe, just maybe… our story’s just begun.
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