superheroes raze he looks like someone i used to know. someone i was so sure was an ally for a year or two. he gave me back something i thought i'd lost. then he did a heel turn and grew his hair out. he moved to calgary and started calling himself an outsider artist, decorating his pretentious non-lyrical narrative works with the syncopated flatulence of expensive analog synths and designer drum machines. it's the hair that makes me think of him. that and the swagger. but this is someone different. someone better. this is a man i grew up wanting to be. what surprises me is that he doesn't even try to hide who he is. it's right there on the front of his shirt. a stark screen-printed symbol advertises his secret identity to the rest of the world. the smugness in his smirk gives me pause. but i raise my hand. he nods before walking away. "i didn't know batman lived on our street," i say. and my dad looks at me and says, "there are other superheroes who live here too." 220812 what's it to you? who go blather from