Some other story part

06Apr09

Thomas Paine once said “If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child may have peace. I don’t know why but that phrase, that notion of personal responsibility rung true with me throughout my entire life. We’re the keepers of our own destiny and all that jazz, we’re the makers of the world we wish to belong to and the corruptors of things beautiful. Humanity itself is a scar upon this perfect world, but it’s one of those lovely scars, one that endears us to it even more. I suppose a mole would be better, but with it carries the nasty connotations of cancer and are, in spite of what we say, are gross. Scars are cool, they tell everyone else that you’ve been in the shit and come out surviving. So yeah, to earth we are the scar, pardon the tangent. I suppose this is all a little ironic coming from me, some supposed super-villain or whatever society has called me in the past 10 months. I’m here to assuage your fears that I have not, could not in fact, turn to the “dark side” as much as end my delusion of what is freedom, what is liberty, and what is the true American way (Hint: it deals with the two formers). I hope to accomplish in this semi-autobiography is the clarification of where I stand, the things I believe in, and finally, the corruption that I have witnessed take place in our upper levels of government. Well, the latter has been obvious for a while but it’s ever so pertinent to have in print, even if this book will soon be labeled as some pamphlet by some crazy anti-government ideagogue with superpowers. Yes I’ve done “bad things” to “good people” in the previous “months” but it was all relative to how society perceives right and wrong. That is, they perceive it poorly. This superior notion of a greater good does nothing but enforce things that are necessary but removing choice from the equation. Sure, we could eliminate a disease by quarantining all those that have it, but it would remove us from our humanity. Yes, I know that every life can’t be saved, sacrifices must be made, that tired adage of tragedy and statistics, but I went into the superhero business wanting to fight for righteousness (and fame). I’d sleep better (and with positive publicity) if I saved the little guy while at the same time solving the big picture. Why must one person suffer? This must be surprising coming from me, some mid-tier superhero frequently maligned by rags from “The Enquirer” to the “New York Times”, shit-talked voraciously for my uncouth methods of justice. I simply figure, you’ll either believe me completely or find this entire book deliciously absurd. Supposedly I’m an asshole, a huge one, with “an ego to match”. I never thought the Times to be so hackneyed and clichéd as that last bit, but I guess you live and learn. At least I was being badly recognized for something I did well than being well recognized for “terrible evils” I never did. Again, quote from the Times. I know you can’t expect every article to be written with the bombastic manner of Gore Vidal or the flair of a Pitchfork article but I at least expected something that would describe me less of a caricature and more nuanced. Yes, I have a certain presence and yes my head can be huge sometimes (but I mean, c’mon, find me a humble hero and I’ll find you a faker), but it’s not like I’m asking to be on a stamp (Yes, I’m talking about you Platinum. The Philatelist, sure) or be inducted to the rock and roll hall of fame (I’m sorry, your guitar playing just sucks, Tremolo); just a little brand recognition would be nice. And when they came under the notion that I was evil, I swear they doused me in every superlative they could think of. Having your name in the paper everyday isn’t terribly, any publicity being good publicity and all, but when they’re saying I’m massacring babies in South America, that’s going to ruin some endorsements. Not that some of their coverage of my actions wasn’t accurate, just out of context. “Blackheart fights personal, evil, war on drugs in Venezuela: Hundreds killed” is a hell lot more sensational than “Government orders execution of drug cartel. Oh hey, Blackheart’s doing some covert work for them there, too!” I feel like I’m getting a little ahead of myself now, like all good stories meaning to boost moral character of a publically maligned person, I should start at where I’m in a good light.
I was born to a mother and father who loved me very much. I was active in church, ate all my vegetables and did relatively well in school. Around the age of 12 I first discovered I had a power, back then it was still “Fight crime!” and “Secret identities for all!”, all the good heroes were humble and you only really heard about them in secondhand stories around the watercooler (or in our case, jungle gym)

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