superhero splinken maybe i need to let the superheros know that i feel bad for them. for what happened to them. you know. when pop psychology got a hold of them. it certainly was an interesting development, something i enjoy reading. but batman at 50? 60? unhappy, weeping for his dead robins? he talks to himself while he leaps from building to building, knees creaking and chest heaving. he talks to dick grayson, but i think grayson died a long time ago. and poor jason. Robin #2? the joker shot him. he keeps jason's costume on display in the batcave, off by itself, away from the gadgets. and superman? sold out to the reagan administration. he catches soviet missiles mid-air, they detonate against his body. but he's okay. he's superman, after all. then he turns back into clark so he can have an old man heart-to-heart with bruce wayne. i'm sorry. i'm sorry you can't be two-dimensional anymore. i'm sorry you can't be perfect, infallible. and i'm sorry that i like you better this way. 001006 ... taryn i guess i am not a superhero no cape, no tights no bad guys to fight big dreams all the same. sad face of a superhero sad eyes, no smile be me for a while lost cause all the same. the final fight of a superhero big bangs, loud crashes, sounds of a broken dream tears are all the same 010424 ... Norm Super? Maybe. Hero? To some. So what does that make me? A super hero? I don't know, probably not. 011010 ... silentbob i used to be a superhero no one could touch me no not even myself and you wer like a phonebooth that i somehow stumbled into now look at me i am just like everybody else ani_difranco 020401 ... grendel i realize now, that, if anything, i was always meant to be a villain in a universe full of villains just a face in the crowd somehow, there is both reassurance and frustration in this realization 020401 ... heart All superheroes are these days are people who like to wear spandex and get tied up. 030710 ... ashmanzhou so good to know youre right im not the feeling so real so what now? nothing here i am no hero not even to me my duty lies dead butchered by my hate torn in two by my anger destroying itself in an orgy of selfrighteousness for my righteousness is corrupt my eyes are closed to it i hear it call but my mouth is choked with ash of wasted fury wasted on myself as i stare upon others sorrows i cannot inflict this to them it is for me to bear to th'abyss and the precipice hungers for me 030711 ... misstree you're only invulnerable when you have the fullest faith, and then it fractures and you come crashing out of the sky. 051005 what's it to you? who go blather from