Throne of Agony or Salt of the Earth
2015-The superhero is the single most enchanting idea to man. The construct of being better and more able than everybody else would in effect obliterate all our self-awareness and social strife we burden ourselves with daily out of necessity to live and wake up foundation-full.
The idea of being different is the entire basis of Hollywood films. A singular character is wrought with many inconsistencies and small augments of luck. All this mixes into a recipe for something interesting to happen. The protagonist is the superhero of films.
Being a god has been the goal of the most successfully ambitious. But if it was to be given out of luck or chance to a normal person, well that is the grand scheme of the American Dream. The average can obtain the unobtainable.
A superhero thrives on admiration and embraces their duty as life itself. They masquerade in guises of the norm but they know even when they pretend to be a klutz(Superman) or a billionaire playboy(Batman) or even a blind lawyer(Daredevil) these men have an agenda with more bearing and effect than the most powerful evils their city has to offer.
They captivate, they make us ruminate and every time we come back to their glorious subject of one man one giant destiny, to forge change, we come back with the reality of how hopeless and ridiculous these thoughts really are.
Man’s rate of change or skill maneuverability has a clearly defined ceiling by physics and the fragility of the human condition that is over 50% water. Bruce Lee died trying to lift as much weight as Chuck Norris. We are all just glasses trying not to shatter ourselves as we clumsily try to survive the pour of the day and the emptiness of night.
They put themselves before strangers, their bodies and wellness a submissive sacrifice; all against our possible and intrinsic rotting. They are our refrigerator, the salt of the earth and they preserve what should and will famish without their care and protection. They keep the harder cycles of life at bay because a newly formed sanctity of human life and a pity knighted on the victim or innocent in this new industrial age of man.
The greatest word to describe love is sacrifice.
These cartooned myths birthed out of anger and imagination of a reckless and evil environment, are the answer to what can be thought when we reprimand and repress cerebral motivations of reality and truth; and build them to the dexterity of individual potential.
With bulging muscles and eclectic skill nothing is impossible.
We owe these stories of heightened potential to the Gods of Greek myths. The Greeks envisioned the raised ceiling and a bunch of artist with big ideas put tights and a cape on Hercules. An affinity for the past created something beautiful and momentously important. They were vital then, they’re vital now.
They storm evil and keep the malevolent at the gates so the sun can shine and melt the fair-haired boy’s ice-cream at the park as he stares at the immensity of man’s most grandiose accomplishment, the skyscraper. And he’ll wipe the forehead sweat of the summer’s day with his left hand as he accidently releases his grip and his red balloon soars into the sky as high as he hopes his dreams will. All this for freedom of oppression. As long as the world has freedom it will carry with it the happy lie of Superheros.