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So, I’m sitting in my living room not too long ago staring at a computer screen — or rather the words on the screen — in disbelief. And damn if I didn’t actually feel my heart sink, then shatter….again….a feeling I’ve become all too familiar with in the recent tidal wave of shit that’s been my craptastic funfest for some time now. I used to think, “This is it. My heart is broken; there’s nothing left. I’ll cease to feel now that my heart shattered and imploded.” Wow…. was that ever naive.

But I digress — The screen glows with the words — that awful feeling is in my chest and now I’m weeping the tears of the unwanted. And for a moment I don’t feel sadness — I feel rage and resentment. Like I want to lash out and hurt the person who just so egregiously hurt me.

And then I have this thought — I know why supervillains do the evil that they do. It’s not the once-in-a-while or one time tragedy like many superheroes have faced. It’s the constant torment and rejection — the hurt that just won’t stop that causes them to rage — to take their frustrations out on others.

So I start thinking….does this thought hold? I thought about the old school superheroes… Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, The Flash. All beautiful people — fit, attractive, popular. Then I thought of the Legion of Doom — that’s right — that Darth Vaderesque, slime covered, swamp haven of evil from the Super Friends. I thought of Lex Luthor (pre-mature balding), Scarecrow (well…..he’s a fucking scarecrow), Giganta (very mannish, reminiscient of the German Women’s Olympic Team of old), Bizarro (a little cubic and stupid for most women), and Solomon Grundy (a zombie — not too big with most women, I’m guessing). All freaks, tormented and shunned.

I shifted back to Wonder Woman (because I follow a chain of logic all my own, thank you very much) and thought that she had no reason to be bitter. She’s a beautiful Grecian goddess who wanted more excitement in her life — real tough to give up the servants I’m sure.

* A pause: I’m going off my own memory of the superheores and supervillains, so I don’t want to hear annoying fanboy responses about the mythology of these characters. This is my post and I’ll say what I want — faulty facts or not. *

Superman: Lost his parent and homeworld…. awwwwww — poor thing grew up with adopted parents who loved him, was popular as a kid, has a good paying job in the city now, is handsome and oh yeah — nigh invulnerable. Forgive me if I don’t shed a tear.

The Flash: Good at track and a class clown. No obvious tragedy. It’s easy to be good when nothing has happened to you.

And ah yes…. Batman: Jet-set, hunky, playboy, billionaire who saw his parents shot in a mugging. So he becomes tortured by this and turns himself into a superhero (albeit one of the darkest) who has no real power. He goes home each night to his ridiculously huge manor and waiting woman of the evening. I’m gonna say it — Batman is a pussy!!!!!!! THAT’S RIGHT! I JUST THREW IT DOWN! BATMAN IS A FUCKING, WHINY, RICH-BITCH PUSSY!!!!! “Whaaaaaaah! I lost my parents yet have enough money to overflow a large swimming pool.” How many kids have gone on to live happy lives and help others who were orphans and had nothing? Batman is not special. Pulling himself up from the gutter would have been more impressive.

Let’s take a look at the other side, shall we?

Bizarro: Damn ugly version of Superman. Basically a cubic, retarded Superman with anger management issues. I’m guessing he’s not too popular with the ladies. Ripped form his own dimension and forced to live as a retarded henchman — I imagine the rejection and loneliness factor is pretty high.

Scarecrow: Constantly picked on, ridiculed, and tortured as professor, he found a way to strike fear into the hearts of those who tormented him. The mask doesn’t win him date points, though. Also tormented and isolated.

Giganta: How many men are interested in a former ape mutated into a human who can crush them with one hand and has more body and facial hair than they do? You see my point….

Lex Luther: I’ve seen pre-mature balding do worse to a man.

And my personal favorite on this list:
Solomon Grundy: I think I’d be a little pissed off too if I had been murdered, vowed revenge with my dying breath, and was tragically resurrected a long time later, flesh now degraded and spongy consisting of vegetable and swamp amtter, my memory almost, but not quite gone, death-rage consuming me, and my speech ability and intelligence severely lowered.

So, my point — Superheroes suffer, but not like those who eventually become supervillains. (I’m not including the ones who started out insane. It’s not relevant. They were already mad rather than driven mad.) Supervillains are cultivated and created over years of abuse and heartbreak until the rage cannot be contained. And I finally get it!!!

Now I just have to formulate an evil plot, get an evil name, an evil outfit, and possibly some evil minions. My time is coming. Once the journey to that dark side is complete (hey! Luke was also a type of superhero! “Whaaaaaaaah! I lost my mom and dad — oh wait– no my dad is just evil…..Whaaaaaaah!”) the plan will begin…. Because I realize now that my heart is going to continue to be broken, and I’ll continue to be used and cast aside for the rest of my life. So why not start shopping around now for some midget minions?

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