No "Supe" for You!
HERE IS PRESENTLY A widespread epidemic afflicting our country. And like many epidemics before, it was finally realized a little too late. There have been random, small outbreaks occurring for decades, but because it was undetected, heck, unknown, for so long, it has been allowed to innocuously fester and grow at such an exposnential rate that at present day, many of its victims are anaware they suffer from its effects, having been exposed to it since they were very young.
Most have, in the past, been able to rid themselves of it by adulthood. But in this far more viral day and age, where exposure threatens at almost every turn in and outside the home, it is scant hope to believe we can save ourselves from this disease without consequential long-term and possibly terminal repurcussions.
The affliction I speak of is MMDS, or, scientifically, Mere Mortal Depressive Syndrome. Or should I say "scientifictionally"? Either way, it appears that, in greater numbers, people of all demographics are turning more and more of their attention to superheroes.
This week alone, beyond and after the hyped thrall of the return of illegal immigrant (guest worker) Superman and the last stand of the hetero sapien X-Men, I have watched the formally future-abducted citizens of Seattle use their newly-found paranormal "gifts" to either save or destroy mankind on The 4400, I have watched Milla Jovovich drive on walls and dodge bullets to save mankind as UltraViolet (and look damn good doing so), I have cheered James Cameron's Aquaman out-opening Spiderman on HBO's art-imitating-life-imitating-art series, Entourage and I have seen ads for movies such as Zoom (think The Fantastic Four meets Sky High) and TV shows such as NBC's Heroes (think The 4400 on a major network), and Stan Lee's Who Wants to Be a Superhero (well, that one's self-explanatory).
Fantasy has always been a huge part of popular culture, but for the most part, it has been everyday humans in extraordinary places such as a galaxy far, far away or Middle Earth. More and more, though, people imagine having extraordinary gifts right here on earth.
One could argue whether the desire would be to affect good for humanity or to exact revenge on those who previously wronged them. TV shows and movies lend themselves thematically to the former. That would be the responsible message, much like a person assures others, and himself, that if he or she won the lottery, the would donate a sizable chunk to charity.
The just-opened Uma Thurman flick, My Super Ex-Girlfriend, supposes the latter, more real possibility when the great responsibility that comes with great power gets compromised by a sometimes more powerful great human emotion. In the film, A guy (Luke Wilson) reservedly dumps his girlfriend, who just so happens to be a super-hero, and, in her pain, exacts revenge upon him using her superpowers.
What would I do with super strength or speed? What could I accomplish if I were impervious to pain or injury? Could I resist the voyeauristic and criminal possibilites of being invisible? I've had the ability to fly in my dreams, but used it only to visit particular friends, and purely for recreational reasons. And wouldn't my life be better, near perfect, if I could see the future?
That would be no kind of life! Life is all about uncertainties and struggle, the kind that make us learn and mature as individuals and the consequential rewards of our growing pains that much sweeter. And in all likelihood, as sci-fi hystery has repeatedly proven, being superhuman just adds another level to our already substantial slate of day-to-day hardships.
If we start wishing to be more of ourselves or more than ourselves, we then only feed our sense of unfulfillment. We should instead celebrate our I think it's "super" that we can know our limits and test them at the same time.
I am proud to remember having my friends and family sign my cast when I broke my arm at 9 years old. I was proud every year in high school succesively besting my track times. And imagine having such a high and speedy metabolic rate that I could never get drunk! Screw that!
No amount or degree of super power has been imagined so far that makes a person not feel heartbreak or loss, and if there were, no one would want it. There is nothing more rewarding than overcoming adversity, nothing more human.
The most super thing a human can do is to enjoy the follies of being human. Go skydiving and overcome your fear of heights. Take an extra class and expand your mind. Take the education of past pain, mistakes, misfortunes and failures and pass it on to someone else, to better their lives and save them those same transgressions. Wouldn't it be great if one didn't have to look up in the sky for salvation and just look up to you? And you within yourself?
Wouldn't that just be super...?!
Comments
It's well commented upon that the root of the superhero cult is in the fantasies of geeky pre-adolescent and adolescent males who imagine themselves powerless, so imagine themselves as all-powerful, with the ability to smite their enemies with impunity.
Growing up involves recognizing one's own "super" abilities and ability to do good in the mortal world on your own terms. Good post Kerry, which I think illustrates everything I just said in a better fashion. And the new incarnation of the site looks great!
Posted by: Lexiphane | July 22, 2006 10:42 AM
Glad you agree, although it doesn't bode well that people are increasingly having -- or needing -- these fantasies....
Like the new look, too; probably going to redo my whole site with this as a template!
Posted by: Kerry Cheeseboro | July 22, 2006 11:13 AM
I disagree there. I'm a big proponent of the theory (which I made up) of social staticness. Societal disaffection--if one could map such things--will throughout history always have a pretty consistent constant distribution of the severely malafected, alienated, content, and comatose and unaware. I belive all salient social movements are media created or historically noted by their influence after the fact.
Never despair, because everything progresses on a continuity. Until it doesn't, and then our worries go out the window.
Posted by: Lexiphane | July 22, 2006 12:06 PM