‘Superheroes Anonymous’ director gets personal with Valencia Voice

Originally posted in the Valencia Voice at  http://www.valenciavoice.com/
Copy of Valencia Voice
Ben Goldman sets out to unmask real life community crusaders
By: Victor Ocasio
[email protected]
As children, so many wished for the chance to soar above the clouds like Superman, or take to the streets vanquishing evil like the dark knight Batman.
But what if that world of wonder and bat-shark repellent bat-spray wasn’t so distant?
For many around the world, who are part of the Real Life Superhero Movement, it isn’t.
They come from all over, don myriad unique costumes and all, in their own way, seek to better the community around them.
Many provide aid to the less fortunate through charity, while others still insist on ol’ fashioned street patrols to stop crime in its tracks.
In 2007, a project was started, in an effort to understand the realities of real life superheroism and to organize the first official gathering of these individuals in history.
Documentary film- maker Ben Goldman and co-director Chiam Lazaros set out to unmask the world of these real life community crusaders, in their first film, “Superheroes Anonymous.”
A Valencia Voice phone interview, with Goldman, offered in- sight into the ongoing project.

Valencia Voice: Where did the idea for a film about real life superheroes come from?
Goldman: I came to him (Chiam Lazaros) in 2007 with the basic concept of ‘Hey wouldn’t it be cool if there were superheroes in the real world,’ and we did some investigation and quickly discovered the real life superhero movement.
Valencia Voice: How many real life superheroes have you met during filming?
Goldman: A few dozen.
Valencia Voice: Are there any heroes that stick out in your memory?
Goldman: There is a superhero named Civitron who’s located in New Bedford Massachusetts and through out the course of documenting him we’ve been there on Christmas day with him and his family, we’ve met his parents, we’ve spent weekends over there and he’s just an all-around good hearted guy.
Valencia Voice: Would you say that you have made friends through out filming?
Goldman: Its hard not to become friends. You also have to realize that the real life superhero movement is so ripe for exploitation from people who don’t quite get it, that is kind of necessary for us to really cultivate friendships with the superheroes. The subject itself is under such enormous scrutiny and there are so many people that want a piece of this real life phenomenon, that the heroes are very wary of outsiders.
Valencia Voice: In your documentary, there is a scene with real life superhero, Dark Guardian confronting a drug dealer at night. How did it feel being behind the camera watching that unfold?
Goldman: That was probably the craziest experience I’ve had filming the real life superheroes. I don’t condone that style of superheroism, but I’m filming, so its not my place to step in. Dark Guardian is a martial arts expert, but even so you never know what’s going to happen in a situation like that. As it was happening, I remember thinking that I had to have a game plan if something happened, like what was I going to do if a knife or gun was pulled. This is where it gets controversial from a documentary perspective– the unknown part of that story was that I actually wore a lavalier mic and walked around the park, to find out where the drug dealers were. Dark Guardian was listening to the audio from 100 ft away, I came back and pointed out who had tried to sell to me and film him walking up to the guy. And that’s—that’s kind of stupid, and unconventional for a documentary.
Valencia Voice: What can you tell us about million dollar playboy turned humanitarian, Peaceman?
Goldman: How do you describe someone like that? I’m not sure real life superhero is the right word. Peaceman is an interesting guy. He originally was a banker, the son of a banker and a guy who created a banking empire but that never really was for him, he was always kind of hippie at heart or a peace loving guy at heart. After his father died he retired with hundreds of millions of dollars, and wanted to pursue a career in music, and to create a charity. So he created the Peaceman Foundation. He has secret corridors in his house, which is actually a castle. He mostly does humanitarian work, and he’s a really fun, fast-living party kind of dude. He is definitely one of the most interesting characters we’ve met.
Valencia Voice: Has this changed your outlook on life?
Goldman: I’ll tell you that its changed my outlook on life, not so much because of the superheroes, but because of the public’s response to the real life superheroes. There are people out there everyday, volunteering their time at homeless shelters who don’t wear capes, and most of them do more good than the real life superheroes. But the reason the real life superheroes are so resonant is because the public is looking for symbols of good, even if they are symbols of everyday good. People really respond to the idea of everyday heroes, of everyday people that have a hidden superhero inside of them.
Valencia Voice: When do you expect the film to be completed?
Goldman: We are currently working with another documentary crew and combining forces. I started this project without having been to a single film class when I was 19. We didn’t have any plan or budget , and just grabbed a camera and started shooting. We were amateurs and some of that shows in the earlier footage. I can’t say much about them, but they are a big documentary team, and I would say within the next few months you guys will see a trailer I theaters.
Valencia Voice: Whats your next project?
Goldman: Well now that I’ve done a documentary on real life superheroes I might want to do a documentary on real life zombies. Who knows? Maybe it just requires a Google search and I’ll uncover a whole movement of zombies.

Superheroes Need Super Support Groups

Originally posted: http://www.aolnews.com/article/superheroes-need-super-support-groups/19544385
By David Moye
July 8) — Being a superhero used to be a specialized field. You either had to be the victim of a bizarre accident, like being bit by a radioactive spider, or suffer a tragic incident, i.e. being the sole survivor, blasted into outer space, from a distant planet as it was being destroyed.
But now things are different. Despite the contention of films like “The Incredibles” that some people are born super compared with the rest of us, being a superhero is a more egalitarian prospect than ever.
Yes, whereas folks used to dress up like Superman or Thor on Halloween, these days, people want to be superheroes all year long. Also, rather than piggybacking on some comic book hero, folks would rather become their own superheroes, with powers of their own choosing.

he members of Superheroes Anonymous dedicate themselves to truth, justice and the American way not by fighting supervillains but by giving toiletries to the homeless.

he members of Superheroes Anonymous dedicate themselves to truth, justice and the American way not by fighting supervillains but by giving toiletries to the homeless.


Superhero groups are popping up in cities like San Francisco; Portland, Ore.; and New York City, which is the headquarters of Superheroes Anonymous (SA), a support group of caped crusaders who run around the city doing small acts of good, like dispensing toiletries to the homeless while dressed in superhero costumes.
SA is modeled after 12-step groups like Alcoholics Anonymous, but rather than meet to help one another recover from being super, this offbeat organization tries to inspire people to become their own superheroes.
The organization has been around four years, and co-founder Ben Goldman — whose superhero identity is “Camera Man,” a documentarian to all the organization’s good works — says self-empowerment is the key to understanding the group’s mission.
“People become superheroes because they want to engage a certain degree of control in making the world a better place,” Goldman said.
Goldman’s group has been around four years and now has chapters in Portland and New Bedford, Mass.
In addition, two event organizers in San Francisco have created an annual festival designed to honor “heroes” who are doing things in their communities and to inspire people to become the heroes they’ve always been inside.
The second annual Superhero Street Fair takes place Saturday in the Bayview neighborhood and will have a few hundred folks dressed up as superheroes.
According to FlashNews, regular Joes and Janes are encouraged to wear their very own made-up superhero outfits and show off their unique superpowers, which organizer Joegh Bullock says could include singing, dancing, painting or even kissing, if that’s their forte.
Bullock says that by embracing their own special powers and looking deep inside themselves, people will realize how super they really are and “hopefully feel those powers in them throughout the year.”
He and his fellow organizer came up with the idea awhile back when they realized they wanted an event where everyone would wear the same type of costume.
“We wanted something where you wouldn’t have one person be a clown and another be a fairy,” Bullock said. “We also wanted to take the superpowers out of ‘Hollywood’ and make them things ordinary people can do.”
Bullock expects as many as 3,000 people will attend, and many of those will be coming out of the superhero closet for the first time. For those people, he offers this advice: Believe in your power. A costume isn’t just a costume, it’s an attitude.”
As Bullock sees it, everyone has an alter ego that should be embraced.
“Superman had his secret identity, but we all have a superpower we can call on at anytime. For instance, I call myself ‘Tape Man.’ It came up recently when I was putting up posters for the event at the same time other people were posting things around town. I had strips of tape all over my body and people were grabbing it off me.”
One woman who is embracing her super side Saturday is professional costume designer Sarah Boll.
Last year, she wore a magenta wig and purple bodysuit and revealed herself as Ultra Violet, whose “super sparkling powers can dazzle any enemy away.”
This year, Boll is transitioning into a “punk robot” hero but admits she is still working on the powers (“But I do like color,” she adds).
It’s fun for her, but Boll also is inspired to use her costume to help the community. She also believes that dressing up as a hero helps her connect with her inner hero.
“I do feel more like myself when I’m in costume,” she said. “Plus, it’s great whenever people embrace what they’re enthusiastic about and share it.”
Compared with Superheroes Anonymous, the Superhero Street Fair emphasizes fun and whimsy. However, Bullock sees the homemade hero trend as a very powerful one.
“People want something to believe in and empower themselves,” he said. “I know I want to live this way all the time.”

The group has maybe 30 to 40 members, and each one agrees to adopt a 12-point code that includes the following steps:

  • Choosing to be better people and becoming a force of good.
  • Discovering the source of one’s inner superhero.
  • Opening one’s eyes to the environment without shying away from injustice and despair.
  • Giving the inner superhero a name.

Because the laws of physics prevent a person from having heat-ray vision like Superman or the ability to run around Earth in a second like the Flash, SA members have to define superpowers more loosely than their comic-book counterparts.
“We believe that you should take something you love to do and transform that into an identity,” Goldman said. “For instance, I love to make documentaries, so I am the group’s historian. That comes in handy when you have a hero like Dark Guardian, who approaches drug dealers in parks and gets them to leave.”
Superheroes Anonymous – Dark Guardian confronts a drug dealer from Ben Goldman on Vimeo.
As far as the costumes are concerned, Goldman says there are two schools of thought.

As "Ultra Violet," San Francisco costume designer Sarah Boll possesses the power to dazzle any enemy away.

As “Ultra Violet,” San Francisco costume designer Sarah Boll possesses the power to dazzle any enemy away.


“Batman created his costume to invoke fear, whereas Superman assumed his in order to be a symbol,” Goldman said. “That’s what we aspire to. It’s one thing to hand out toiletries to the homeless, but when you’re doing it wearing a costume, people are more likely to stop and ask what you’re doing and maybe get involved themselves.”
Comic books like “The Dark Knight” and “Watchmen” suggest that the negative side of being a superhero is the vigilante aspect, and that is something Goldman stresses is not allowed in his group,
“We don’t endorse vigilantism,” he said. “We don’t live in Gotham City where there is a bank robbery every weekend or supervillains trying to destroy the city. We leave those matters in the hands of the police. There are enough things to do such as dropping off toys at Children’s Hospital.”
Goldman’s group has been around four years and now has chapters in Portland and New Bedford, Mass.
In addition, two event organizers in San Francisco have created an annual festival designed to honor “heroes” who are doing things in their communities and to inspire people to become the heroes they’ve always been inside.
The second annual Superhero Street Fair takes place Saturday in the Bayview neighborhood and will have a few hundred folks dressed up as superheroes.
According to FlashNews, regular Joes and Janes are encouraged to wear their very own made-up superhero outfits and show off their unique superpowers, which organizer Joegh Bullock says could include singing, dancing, painting or even kissing, if that’s their forte.
Bullock says that by embracing their own special powers and looking deep inside themselves, people will realize how super they really are and “hopefully feel those powers in them throughout the year.”
He and his fellow organizer came up with the idea awhile back when they realized they wanted an event where everyone would wear the same type of costume.
“We wanted something where you wouldn’t have one person be a clown and another be a fairy,” Bullock said. “We also wanted to take the superpowers out of ‘Hollywood’ and make them things ordinary people can do.”
Bullock expects as many as 3,000 people will attend, and many of those will be coming out of the superhero closet for the first time. For those people, he offers this advice: Believe in your power. A costume isn’t just a costume, it’s an attitude.”
As Bullock sees it, everyone has an alter ego that should be embraced.
“Superman had his secret identity, but we all have a superpower we can call on at anytime. For instance, I call myself ‘Tape Man.’ It came up recently when I was putting up posters for the event at the same time other people were posting things around town. I had strips of tape all over my body and people were grabbing it off me.”
One woman who is embracing her super side Saturday is professional costume designer Sarah Boll.
Last year, she wore a magenta wig and purple bodysuit and revealed herself as Ultra Violet, whose “super sparkling powers can dazzle any enemy away.”
This year, Boll is transitioning into a “punk robot” hero but admits she is still working on the powers (“But I do like color,” she adds).
It’s fun for her, but Boll also is inspired to use her costume to help the community. She also believes that dressing up as a hero helps her connect with her inner hero.
“I do feel more like myself when I’m in costume,” she said. “Plus, it’s great whenever people embrace what they’re enthusiastic about and share it.”
Compared with Superheroes Anonymous, the Superhero Street Fair emphasizes fun and whimsy. However, Bullock sees the homemade hero trend as a very powerful one.
“People want something to believe in and empower themselves,” he said. “I know I want to live this way all the time.”
Filed under: Weird News, Entertainment, Crime

Super-homens

heroi-1bOriginally posted: http://super.abril.com.br/cotidiano/super-homens-573741.shtml
Pessoas comuns usando fantasias e nomes falsos para fazer o bem e combater o crime. Conheça o fenômeno dos super-heróis da vida real
por Alexandre Rodrigues
tem uma tragédia em sua origem. O Batman assistiu ao assassinato dos pais ainda menino. O Super-Homem sofre por ser o único sobrevivente de um planeta que explodiu. O Homem-Aranha se balança em teias para compensar um erro – deixou fugir o bandido que depois matou seu tio. Mas Sarah só precisou levar um pé na bunda para se tornar Terrífica, que luta para impedir que outros tirem vantagem de mulheres indefesas.
Ela é magra, tem os cabelos louros, bonitos olhos azuis e um gosto péssimo para uniforme – o seu consiste em máscara, calça, malha e botas púrpuras e um sutiã de metal por cima da roupa. Carrega uma “pochete de utilidades” na qual há de chocolates a preservativos para cumprir sua missão: percorre a noite de Manhattan e adjacências abordando mulheres. Por sua obsessão em tentar impedir que homens se deem bem com as mulheres que beberam demais à noite, a heroína nova-iorquina foi apelidada de anti-Sex and the City. “Minha motivação é simples. Eu tento ensinar a mulheres que elas não precisam de proteção, admiração, o que for”, diz Sarah, a mulher de coração partido. “Não é preciso ter superpoderes para alguém cometer erros. Erros terríveis.”
Terrífica é uma candidata a terapia e também a representante feminina mais famosa de um bizarro fenômeno da cultura pop que vem ganhando força no hemisfério norte. É cada vez mais frequente pessoas comuns vestirem fantasias para defender uma causa ou mesmo combater o crime. Há um boom de super-heróis da vida real (ou RLSH, sigla mais ou menos popularizada nos países onde eles atuam). São bancários, universitários, ex-policiais, que usam nomes como Lebre da Sombra e Capitão Discórdia sem medo do ridículo. Em vez da Liga da Justiça, se aliam em organizações como Sociedade da Segunda-Feira Negra e Tropas dos Combatentes do Crime. De acordo com o site Super Hero Registry, há mais de 300 na ativa: são 6 na Europa, 2 no Canadá, 1 no México – no Brasil, até a publicação e repercussão desta matéria, nenhum. Todo o resto está nos EUA. Se ainda estivesse vivo, um sujeito chamado Fredric Wertham veria essa estatística com orgulho e preocupação.
Tradição americana
Em 1954, o Senado americano organizou o equivalente a uma CPI para diagnosticar o suposto mal que as histórias em quadrinhos estavam causando a milhões de crianças e adolescentes. Assumidamente inspirada no livro Seduction of the Innocent (“Sedução do Inocente”, sem versão em português), lançado naquele ano pelo psiquiatra Fredric Wertham, a comissão era um palco para o doutor expor suas ideias. Acuados, editores tiveram de engolir que seus gibis eram “um fator importante em muitos casos de deliquência juvenil” – lembra a polêmica atual sobre videogames (ver pág. 38).
Se Wertham foi preconceituoso por um lado, acabou acertando por outro: detectou entre alguns fãs de super-heróis o complexo de Super-Homem – um senso exagerado de responsabilidade, aliado à crença de que ninguém é capaz de se virar sozinho e uma necessidade constante de “salvar” os outros. Seria o contrário do “efeito espectador”, em que cidadãos obedientes à lei, diante de um crime, não se envolvem, achando que outros vão fazê-lo. Para Bart Beaty, especialista na obra de Wertham, essa compulsão por se envolver já existia na cultura americana, mas pode ter se acentuado após a comoção com o 11 de Setembro, levando ao surgimento desses heróis de verdade.
“O movimento está crescendo. Já são mais de 300 no Super Hero Registry? Veja só, há um ano eram 200”, diz Ben Goldman, historiador informal do fenômeno e também um herói – ele usa o nome de Cameraman, por sua dedicação a documentar em vídeo as ações dos colegas. Segundo ele, a crise financeira que abalou os EUA no ano passado deu o impulso que faltava para que alguns caíssem no heroísmo . “Muitos perderam renda, o emprego, suas casas, passaram por crises existenciais e pararam para pensar em quem eram de verdade. Algumas pessoas começaram a dar mais valor a sua vocação do que a suas posses. E muitos acham que nasceram para ser super-heróis, por que não?”
Fazendo diferença
“As pessoas estão cheias de indiferença e apatia, mas há homens e mulheres que querem fazer diferença. Somos um movimento, mais do que um bando de caras usando roupas de elástico”, diz Dave Pople, ex-profissional de luta livre, ex-boxeador, ex-fuzileiro naval, ex-cadete da academia de polícia. Ocupação atual: super-herói sob a alcunha de… Super-Herói. O uniforme, como os de seus colegas, foi claramente inspirado nos dos heróis dos quadrinhos (ver quadro nesta página). Como os outros super-heróis, não pode carregar armas para não correr o risco de ser preso por vigilantismo. Apesar do corpo avantajado (ou talvez por causa dele), garante que jamais precisou agredir um suspeito. No que consiste, então, o seu super-heroísmo? Bem, em um domingo à tarde pode estar patrulhando a praia de Clearwater, Flórida, onde vive, verificando se os vendedores têm licença. Ou trocando um pneu numa estrada. Mas, como a maior parte de seus colegas, faz caridade: com outros heróis da região, ele formou o Time Justiça, que reúne e doa brinquedos.
heroi-2e3
Mas alguns mantêm uma aura de mistério e dizem viver nas sombras espreitando malfeitores. “É como eu posso ajudar os outros”, diz O Olho,herói de Mountain View, Califórnia. Na internet, se apresenta como um ex-detetive particular que passou 25 anos em empresas do Vale do Silício e hoje vigia sorrateiramente o crime, reunindo provas para a polícia. Aos 51 anos, percorre a cidade de carro usando equipamentos que ele mesmo inventa – como uma bengala-câmera, um rádio-periscópio e uma lanterna laser – para vigiar criminosos. Ao seu lado, leva a mulher, ela também uma super-heroína, que adota o codinome de Lady Mistério. “O parque Mercy Bush tem sido a cena de alguns avistamentos estranhos em várias patrulhas. Eu vi vandalismo, duas pessoas fazendo sexo sendo filmadas por uma terceira e, em geral, todo tipo de esquisitos que são atraídos para esse lugar quando cai a noite”, registrou em seu blog sobre uma patrulha noturna.
O fenômeno é mais forte nos EUA, mas já atravessou o Atlântico. “Sou detetive e combatente do crime”, se apresenta Entomo (latim para “inseto”), italiano de 32 anos. Com a identidade mais ou menos secreta – diz que 13 pessoas próximas sabem quem ele é -, dedica-se a evitar o vandalismo nas ruas de Nápoles desde 2007, quando se inspirou com a história de Terrífica. Ele conta que passou por treinamento antes de assumir a vida dupla, mas sua grande vantagem, assegura, são as habilidades paranormais. “Eu injetojustiça“, diz, sem dar mais detalhes. “Hoje é meu terceiro aniversário comoherói. Obrigado a todos pelo apoio. Eu irei celebrar patrulhando as ruas toda a noite”, comemorou Entomo dia 2 de março na sua página no MySpace – que, a propósito, também informa que está interessado em conhecer mulheres.
Sala (virtual) da Justiça
Não haveria os super-heróis de verdade sem a internet. O fenômeno é efeito da web 2.0, que impulsionou uma profusão de blogs e páginas de redes sociais, para heróis e grupos dos quais fazem parte. “Os interessados no assunto juntaram forças, viram que não estavam sozinhos”, diz Goldman/Cameraman. Em fóruns na rede, veteranos e novatos trocam experiências e dicas. Onde encontrar spandex, o tecido dos uniformes dos super-heróis, mais discretos? Camadas de Kevlar, como nos quadrinhos, realmente protegem contra uma bala? (A resposta é não.)
heroi-4e5
Às vezes, esses fóruns servem para mostrar que a realidade não é tão exigente quanto a ficção. Em seu livro Becoming Batman (“Virando Batman”, sem versão em português), o neurocientista canadense E. Paul Zehr estimou entre 15 e 18 anos o tempo que Bruce Wayne levou treinando para ser o Cavaleiro das Trevas. Para o autor, Wayne é um atleta capaz de ser campeão olímpico no decatlo. “Quero virar um super-herói, mas tenho vergonha da minha barriga”, explica o novato em um tópico de discussão. “Calma. Você deve ter notado que há muito super-herói fora de forma”, responde, tranquilizador, um veterano.
Mas a internet ainda não foi capaz de proporcionar a qualquer dos novos heróis o tipo de fama do veterano Superbarrio Gómez, na ativa desde os anos 80. Quando jovem, nos anos 70, foi guerrilheiro e afirma ter participado de 3 assaltos a bancos. Mais tarde, nos anos 80, o militante passou a se apresentar como um bizarro personagem que, com uma máscara de luta livre e um uniforme que lembra o do Chapolin Colorado, começou a aparecer em protestos populares e greves de trabalhadores na Cidade do México. Embora nunca tenha concorrido em seu país, em 1996 se tornou uma celebridade internacional ao se proclamar candidato alternativo à Presidência dos EUA.
Desde então, foi tema de dois livros, apareceu na série inglesa de quadrinhos2000 AD Presents e também foi tema de um curta-metragem animado, La Vuelta de Superbarrio (“O Retorno de Superbarrio”). Com quase 60 anos – sua idade correta é desconhecida -, aposentou-se no início da década e revelou a identidade secreta: Marco Rascón Córdova. Mas, assim como o personagem Fantasma, a honra de ser Superbarrio parece passar adiante: desde 2005 outro sujeito veste o uniforme. Sua página no Facebook informa: ainda está na ativa.
Vida real
A Califórnia é um dos estados americanos onde o Olho pode agir. Na Carolina do Norte, por exemplo, cidadãos comuns são proibidos de prender alguém. Se algum deles fizer isso, pode ser detido por sequestro. Apesar de até achar positivo um grupo de cidadãos dispostos a ajudar, a polícia de San Diego, também na Califórnia, que vive uma epidemia de heróis, deu o recado: o combate ao crime só pode ser feito sem violência. E sugere aos heróis apenas denunciarem crimes e depois servirem de testemunhas. A resposta do público – como era de esperar – fica entre o apoio e o deboche. Em Nova York, um encapuzado chamado Vida reclama de moradores que atiram objetos das janelas – o paladino da justiça foi atingido por um pedaço de carne crua.
Mas os super-heróis da vida real têm um motivo para não desanimar: conseguiram empolgar ninguém menos do que Stan Lee, o criador de Hulk, Homem-Aranha, Homem de Ferro e outros heróis. “Se alguém está cometendo um crime, se alguém está machucando outra pessoa, é quando um super-herói entra em cena. É bom que haja pessoas ansiosas para ajudar as próprias comunidades”, declarou ele em entrevista à rede CNN. E até Hollywood já embarca na onda: está prevista para 11 de junho a estreia no Brasil de Quebrando Tudo (Kick-Ass), filme que liderou as bilheterias americanas com a história de um jovem que resolve combater o crime fantasiado – e encontra outros como ele. É, claro, uma comédia.
Super-Herói viu o filme e não gostou muito, por achar que ridiculariza algo que ele leva muito a sério. Mas não se incomoda diante de uma pergunta bastante repetida: os super-heróis da vida real não passam de adultos que não querem enfrentar a própria vida? “Eu acho que as pessoas são conformistas”, ele responde. “Eles acham que nós devemos viver apenas vidas normais. Vidas normais são um saco.”
Para saber mais
Watchmen
Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons, Panini Livros, 2009.
Fredric Wertham and the Critique of Mass Culture
Bart Beaty, University Press of Mississippi, 2005.
worldsuperheroregistry.com
reallifesuperheroes.org
heroi-6English Translation
Every superhero has a tragedy in its origin. Batman witnessed the murder of her parents as a boy. Superman suffers from being the sole survivor of a planet that exploded. Spider-Man swings on webs to make a mistake – gave away the villain who later killed his uncle. But Sarah just had to take a walk in the butt to become terrifying, struggling to prevent others from taking advantage of defenseless women.
She is thin, has blond hair, beautiful blue eyes and a bad taste for even – your mask is on, pants, sweater and purple boots and a bra metal on top of clothing.Carries a “utility pouch” in which there are chocolates to condoms to fulfill their mission: traveling the night of Manhattan and vicinity approaching women. In his obsession with trying to prevent men get along with women who drank too much at night, the New York heroin was dubbed anti-Fri and the City. “My motivation is simple. I try teach women that they need no protection, admiration, whatever,” says Sarah the wife of a broken heart. “You do not need superpowers to someone making mistakes. Mistakes terrible.”
Terrifying is a candidate for therapy and also the most famous female representative of a bizarre pop culture phenomenon that is gaining strength in the northern hemisphere. It is increasingly common people wear costumes to defend a cause or even fighting crime. There is a boom of superheroes in real life (or RLSH, which stands more or less popularized in countries where they operate). They are banking, academics, former police officers, who use names such as Hare’s Shadow and Captain Discord without fear of ridicule. Instead of the League ofJustice, are allied organizations as the Society of Black Monday and the troops fighting crime. According to the website Superhero Registry, there are over 300 on active duty: six are in Europe, two in Canada, one in Mexico – in Brazil, until the publication of this material and repercussion, no. Everything else is in the U.S.. If he were still alive, a guy named Fredric Wertham would see that statistic with pride and concern.
American Tradition
In 1954, the U.S. Senate held the equivalent of a CPI for diagnosing the supposed evil that the stories in comics were causing millions of children and adolescents. Admittedly inspired by the book Seduction of the Innocent (“Seduction of the Innocent,” without version in Portuguese), released that year by psychiatrist Fredric Wertham, the commission was a stage for the doctor explain his views. Intimidated, editors had to swallow that his comics were “an important factor in many cases of juvenile delinquency” – remember the current controversy about video games (see page 38.).
If Wertham was biased on the one hand, ended up hitting the other: caught between some fans of the superhero Superman complex – an exaggerated sense of responsibility, coupled with the belief that nobody is able to turn yourself and a constant need to “save” others. It would be the opposite of “bystander effect” in which law-abiding citizens, faced with a crime, do not get involved, thinking that others will do it. For Bart Beaty, a specialist in the work of Wertham, this compulsion to engage in American culture existed, but may have been accentuated after the commotion with the September 11, leading to the emergence of these real heroes.
“The movement is growing. There are now over 300 Super Hero Registry? Look, up from 200 a year ago,” says Ben Goldman, informal historian of the phenomenon and also a hero – he uses the name of Cameraman, for his dedication to video documenting the actions of colleagues. He said the financial crisis that has rocked the U.S. last year gave the boost that to fall in some heroism. “Many lost income, jobs, their homes, went through existential crises and stopped to think about who they were real. Some people began to give more value to his calling than his possessions. And many think they were born to be super- heroes, why not? ”
Making a difference
“People are full of indifference and apathy, but there are men and women who want to make a difference. We are a movement, rather than a bunch of guys wearing elastic,” says Dave Pople, former professional wrestling, former boxer, ex-marine, ex-cadet at the police academy. Current Occupation: superhero under the name … Super-Hero. The uniform, like those of his colleagues, was clearly inspired by the heroes of the comics (see box this page). Like other superheroes, he can not carry weapons as you run the risk of being arrested for vigilantism. Despite topping the body (or perhaps because of it) ensures that never needed to assaulting a suspect. As is, then, your super-heroism? Well, on a Sunday afternoon may be patrolling the beach in Clearwater, Fla., where he lives, making sure the vendors are licensed. Or changing a tire on a road. But like most of his colleagues, does charity: with other heroes of the region, he formed Team Justice, which collects and donates toys.
But some maintain an aura of mystery and they say live in the shadows lurking criminals. “It’s like I can help others,” says Eye, hero of Mountain View, California. On the Internet, presents himself as a former private investigator who spent 25 years at companies in Silicon Valley and today oversees sneak crime, gathering evidence for police. After 51 years, runs through the town by car using equipment that he invented – as a cane-camera, a periscope and a radio-flashlight laser – to monitor criminals. At his side, takes the woman, she is also a superhero, which adopts the codename of Mystery Lady. “Mercy Bush Park has been the scene of some strange sightings on several patrols. I saw vandalism, two people having sex being shot by a third and, in general, all sorts of weird that they are attracted to this place when night falls” , noted in his blog on a night patrol.
This phenomenon is stronger in the U.S. but has already crossed the Atlantic.”I’ma detective and crime fighter,” presents Entom (Latin for “bug”), Italian 32.With more or less secret identity – says 13 people nearby know who he is – is dedicated to prevent vandalism in the streets of Naples since 2007, when he was inspired by the story of terrifying. He tells that went through training before assuming the double life, but its greatest advantage, ensures they are paranormal abilities. “I inject justice, “he says, without elaborating. “Today is my third anniversary as hero. Thank you all for your support. I will conclude by patrolling the streets all night, “Entom celebrated March 2 at his MySpace page – which, incidentally, also says it is interested in knowing women.
Room (virtual) of Justice
There would be the superheroes of truth without the internet. The phenomenon is the effect of Web 2.0, which boasted a profusion of blogs and social networking pages for heroes and groups to which they belong. “Those interested in the issue joined forces, they saw that they were not alone,” says Goldman / Cameraman. In forums on the net, beginners and veterans share experiences and tips. Where to find Spandex, the fabric of the uniforms of superheroes, more discreet? Layers of Kevlar, as in the comics, actually protect against a bullet? (The answer is no.)
Sometimes, these forums serve to show that reality is not so picky about the fiction. In his book Becoming Batman (“Batman Turning” without version in Portuguese), the Canadian neuroscientist E. Paul Zehr estimated between 15 and 18 years time that Bruce Wayne took training to be the Dark Knight. For the author, Wayne is an athlete able to be Olympic champion in the decathlon. “I want to become a superhero, but I am ashamed of my belly, “says the rookie on a topic of discussion. “Calm down. You may have noticed that there is much super-hero out of shape, “says, reassuringly, a veteran.
If you think that conflict is missing, not missing more: virtual protected by anonymity, have begun to emerge the first supervillain. “Your actions mean nothing to me. You are heroes like a plastic toy. An insect asking to be crushed,” Black Horizon challenged in his introductory video on YouTube. Like most real heroes, he does not lose the chance to give interviews.”There can be a superhero without super-villain, “advocates. “And, as superheroes are spreading out there, here I am.” And to be a villain can be enriching?”I like to see adults and children suffer.” As the heroes gather in groups, “supervillains” also formed his own: the Black Circle – for now, its evils were only on the promise.And feel forgiven those who start to laugh knowing that one of the architects of the forces of evil is Masturbator Black.
But the Internet has not yet been able to provide any kind of new heroes of Fame veteran Superbarrio Gomez, both active since the 80s. As a young man in the ’70s, was a guerrilla and claims to have participated in three bank robberies. Later in the ’80s, the militants began to present itself as a bizarre character with a mask of wrestling and a uniform reminiscent of Chapolin Colorado, began appearing in popular protests and strikes by workers in Mexico City. Though he never competed in his country in 1996 became an international celebrity when he proclaimed alternative candidate for U.S. president.
It has since been the subject of two books, appeared in the series Britishcomic 2000 AD Presents, and also was the subject of an animated short film, La Vuelta de Superbarrio (“The Return of Superbarrio). With nearly 60 years – his correct age is unknown – he retired in the early and revealed the secret identity: Marco Rascón Cordoba. But like the character Ghost, the honor of being Superbarrio seems to pass along: since 2005 the other guy wears the uniform. His Facebook page states: is still active.
Real Life
California is one state where the Eye Americans can act. In North Carolina, for example, ordinary citizens are forbidden to arrest someone. If any of them do, be arrested for kidnapping. Although even find a positive group of citizens willing to help, police in San Diego, also in California, who lives an epidemic of heroes, gave the message: the fight against crime can only be done without violence. And it suggests to the heroes only report crimes and then serve as witnesses. The public response – as expected – is between the support and debauchery. In New York, a hooded called Life calls from residents who throw objects from windows – the champion of justice was hit by a piece of raw meat.
But the superheroes in real life have a reason not to lose heart: could excite none other than Stan Lee, creator of the Hulk, Spiderman, Iron Man and other heroes. ‘If someone is committing a crime if someone is hurting someone else, is when a super-hero enters the scene. It is good that there are people eager to help their communities “he said in an interview with CNN. Even Hollywood has embarked on the wave: is scheduled for the June 11 premiere of Breaking Everything in Brazil (Kick-Ass), a film which topped the U.S. box office with the story of a young man who decides to fight crime dressed – and find others like him. It is of course a comedy.
Super-Hero saw the movie and did not much like, thinking that ridicules something he takes very seriously. But do not mind facing a much repeated question: superheroes in real life are just adults who do not want to face their own life? “I think people are conformist,” he replies. “They think we just live normal lives. Normal lives suck.”
To learn more
Watchmen
Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons, Panini Books, 2009.
Fredric Wertham and the Critique of Mass Culture
Bart Beaty, University Press of Mississippi, 2005.
worldsuperheroregistry.com
reallifesuperheroes.org

Superheroes

Orignially posted: http://www.gaugemagazine.org/_articles/superheroes/super1.html
By Even Allen
Civitron steps out of a blue Honda Civic in the dark parking lot of an old converted factory building in New Bedford. More than six feet tall, he’s wearing a skintight red spandex bodysuit with a blazing orange ‘C’ on his chest. White sunglasses. Combat boots. A utility belt and improvised arm guards—as he strides into the light of a single bulb hanging in front of the door to the factory, the Nike swoosh of a soccer shin guard is visible on his forearm. He is a Real Life Superhero, and the factory—which looks abandoned with its rough bricks and huge murky windows—contains his lair: Rebelo’s Kenpo Karate Studio. Here, surrounded by multi-colored punching dummies, he trains in Northern Style Praying Mantis Kung Fu.
To protect his civilian identity, Civitron will not allow his real name to be used. He is a twenty-nine year old husband and father, and by day, he works at a program for adults with autism. His dark hair is moussed pompadour-style, and he has a wide, easy grin, his front teeth just a little bit crooked. When he’s not fighting for truth and justice, he’s a normal guy—he even irons his superhero suit.
‘Civitron’ means ‘power of the people’—this is also his cause. His superpowers include helping the homeless, raising money for children’s charities, and distributing water bottles to people enjoying the summer sun without proper hydration. He is one of a growing number of people across America creating superhero identities, donning homemade costumes, and going out into the night to do good. “It’s about standing up for what you believe in and taking action,” he says. “It’s actually being the change you want to see in the world, to quote Ghandi.”
A Real Life Superhero starts with a fantasy from childhood. “It’s just a seed that gets planted within a lot of people,” says Civitron. “As you grow up, you lose that fantastic part of it.” But Real Life Superheroes are reclaiming that Saturday morning cartoon world, taking the myth of the superhero and putting it into action in the real world: hyper-altruism decked out in bright colors.
It’s not exactly the Pow!-Kabam!-crime fighting that Batman practiced. “You read comic books, and you see the example that’s there—this violent image of muscle-y guys and girls pounding people and jumping off rooftops—and battling aliens, which you don’t see.” Civitron laughs. “So we kinda had to invent it ourselves.”
There are about 200 Real Life Superheroes in America. Only about fifty are active—meaning that they don’t simply call themselves by a superhero name, but dress up and champion a cause in the real world. Many conduct homeless outreach, distributing food, jackets, and blankets; some focus on environmental cleanup. Terrifica, one of the early superheroes, helped drunk girls leaving the clubs in New York get home safely until her recent retirement. Foxfire in Michigan wears a black leather jacket and fox facemask—her goal is to bring “magic, mystery, wonder, and awe back into the American psyche.” Some superheroes, like Dark Guardian in New York City, patrol the streets fighting crime. “We’re watching over people,” says Civitron. “At least on a small scale.”
Until about three years ago, Real Life Superheroes existed as a loose affiliation of Myspace accounts—people with superhero identities, some of whom actually lived as superheroes, and some of whom just talked about it. But Chaim “Life” Lazaros, 25, and Ben “The Cameraman” Goldman, 23, both of New York City, brought this Internet subculture into the real world with Superheroes Anonymous—a now-annual gathering of superheroes from across America. Today, Lazaros and Goldman are working with Civitron to turn Superheroes Anonymous into a national nonprofit organization, with chapters all over the country.
When Lazaros and Goldman planned the first gathering, they were not superheroes—they were documentary makers, interested in bringing together as many superheroes as they could to interview them. On October 7, 2007, superheroes from as far away as Minnesota converged in Times Square to pick up trash and help the homeless. In the process of documenting their stories, both Lazaros and Goldman became more than just filmmakers: they joined the movement.
Lazaros was a film student at Columbia University when he began organizing the project. “I really devoted my life to [Superheroes Anonymous] for a very, very long time,” he says. “So much so that I stopped going to school, stopped eating, stopped sleeping.” He slowly realized that as he sacrificed more and more of his life and time to the Superheroes, he was becoming one. Two days before the meeting, in a moment of meditation, he saw that he was a “community crusader”—a less flashy superpower, perhaps, than X-Ray vision or flight, but the realization changed his life. “On the day of the meeting,” he says, “I declared myself as ‘Life’ and became a Real Life Superhero.”
Today, as Life, Lazaros does homeless outreach. He goes out onto the streets at least once a week in full costume—a “hipster militarized business suit” consisting of a skinny black tie, a fedora, black S.W.A.T. pants, military boots, a military jacket, and, most importantly, a backpack full of hand-warmers, heating pads, Nutrigrain bars, toothbrushes, and clothing. For Lazaros, as for all superheroes, the costume is important. Not only does it draw attention to their cause, it symbolizes a moral calling. “I believe I feel the same as when a priest puts on his collar or a police officer puts on his badge,” says Lazaros. “He’s now standing for something higher and he has to act that way.”
‘Life’ is his best self—not an alternate self. For many superheroes, the identity is not one that can be shed—It is not pretend, it is not an act. “It’s less of a Clark Kent/Superman kind of transformation, and more of a Punisher kind of thing,” explains Ben Goldman. “He’s kind of always The Punisher.”
More than three years after the first Superheroes Anonymous meet-up, Goldman is still documenting the stories of the superheroes—and they’ve given him his own superhero name: The Cameraman. In addition to making footage for his documentary, Goldman accompanies superheroes when they go out to fight crime. Dark Guardian patrols Washington Square Park in New York City, telling drug dealers to get out, and threatening to call the police. Goldman films these street patrols, both to deter and to record violence.
In one clip, Dark Guardian, who wears a bullet- and stab-proof red and black suit, confronts a man sitting on a picnic table in the park at night, who he believes is selling drugs. “You gotta go!” he yells, and the man stands up—he towers over Dark Guardian. They go back and forth—“Mind your fuckin’ business,” warns the man, shoving his hand in Dark Guardian’s face, thumb cocked and index and middle fingers pointing straight ahead in the shape of a gun. He walks away cursing as Dark Guardian calls the police, and Dark Guardian turns to the camera. “What was that like?” asks Goldman. “A little scary,” says Dark Guardian. “I was waiting for him to move towards me so I could fuckin’ nail him in the throat.” His bravado slips for just a second as his laugh cracks, high and panicky.
Many superheroes avoid crime fighting—Civitron, despite holding an Orange belt in Kung Fu, does not go out on street patrols. “The cops—that’s their job,” says Civitron.
The cops agree. New Bedford Police Leiutenant Jeffrey Silva says that civilian crime fighting actually heightens the danger in any given situation – instead of one victim, police respond to two. “It’s terrible any time there’s a crime victim,” he says. “But it would be particularly sad if someone trying to do a good thing and help others, because they’re identifiable as a crime fighter, got hurt in the process.” And if even if a superhero emerges from a fight unscathed, there is a fine line between making a citizen’s arrest and committing a crime. If a superhero punches and pins a criminal, they could be charged with assault. Advises Silva: “We would respectfully remind [any] superheroes, actual or aspiring, that, as they say in Spider Man: With great power comes great responsibility.”
Superheroes Anonymous officially discourages crime fighting. For many superheroes—including Civitron and Life—crime fighting was something they did when they were first figuring out their superhero identities. “That’s the example, you know?” says Civitron. “In the comic books.” In the early days of his superhero identity, Civitron wore grey and black and patrolled the streets from Beverly to downtown Salem every night, looking for signs of criminals—he never saw any. “I think my mission is a little different,” he says. “Injustice is not always necessarily crime.”
Civitron is a social activist and a family man. His son is six, and has a superhero identity of his own: Mad Owl, protector of woodland creatures. Together, Civitron and Mad Owl raise money for St. Mary’s Children’s Hospital in New York. St. Mary’s is a center for terminally ill children, and the fundraiser was Mad Owl’s idea: after saving $75 in pennies to go to Disney World, Mad Owl decided instead to use the money to buy toys for the children. This is Civitron’s proudest achievement: inspiring his son to join the good fight. “For me—for Civitron… It goes back to that power, that individual power.” The power to change the world—and to look flashy as hell doing it.
“I want everybody to be a superhero,” says Civitron, smiling. He turns to his karate instructor, Joe Rebelo. “Mr. Rebelo is a superhero,” he says. “I know that. Is he actively pursuing the sort of set criteria for being a superhero? No. That’s just his life, that’s who he is. We’re everywhere. That’s what I mean. Everybody has that potential. Everybody can be a superhero.”

Tricked-Out Altruism: Real Life Superheros Patrol America  //  Evan Allen

 

Superheroes Anonymous

Originally posted in Death + Taxes Magainze MarchApril 2010 issue
By Breena Ehrlich
Hollywood abounds with stories these days. But somewhere out there just beyond the shadows, from New York City to Mexico City to New Bedford, Massachusetts, lurks a bona fide, HONEST TO GOD NETWORK OF REAL REAL –LIFE SUPERHEROES. They are not Watchmen. They are not even Kick-Ass or Red Mist. No bullet-proof vest, no Chinese stars. These are normal people- students, bankers, what have you. They just happen to patrol over society in costume, fighting crime and doing good deeds under aliases like Life and The Dark Guardian. They are Superheroes Anonymous. For real.
What’s going on here?” Life asks, ambling up to a pair of cops as they peer though the dusty glass doors of a seemingly abandoned building. The copes turn around, take in the young man’s young face; he looks like one of the Culkin brothers- like that kind from Igby Goes Down. The kid’s fedora is set at a jaunty angle, his black cargo pants are tucked into black jungle boots, his backpack weighs down his shoulders, even though they’re thrown back confidently. He looks like a Brooklyn-dweller. A college student. A kid. Perhaps a nosy kid, the kind that watched too many cops shows as a kid. They probably don’t notice the black mask hanging from his belt loop, or the tzitzis poking out the bottom of his black winter coat.
One of the cops, a jowly man with buzzed hair and a gently swelling belly, gives Life a slight smile. “WE got a call. Some woman can’t get a hold of her husband who’s a security guard. She says she works here, but this place seems abandoned,” he answers with surprising candor and a perfectly stereotypical New York Accent.
“Yeah,” says the other cop, running his hand over his slicked-back gray hair, which still has comb tracks in it from earlier grooming. “I mean, there’s tap on the windows. That means it’s abandoned, right?”
The copes continue to peer though the darkened windows as Life jumps down to inspect a basement-level door. The radios on their belts buzz and crackle: “The missing child is approximately four feet tall, wearing a striped sweater. The suspect-“ Life joins the copes on the steps in mutual consideration of the darkened building, a gray stone apartment building near the Columbia University campus- close enough to Riverside Park that the assemblage can feel the cold air off the water buffeting their backs and faces. The jowly cop’s cheeks are red.
The men in blue bang on the door a few times and then turn to Life with equally stern brows. “Stand back,” says the gray haired cop and positions his shoulders as if to break the door down. Life hops back a little and the cops laugh. “Just Kidding,” Comb Tracks says.
“So are you a student?” Jowls inquires, apparently in no hurry to solve the mystery of the missing security guard.
“No, actually I’m a Real-Life Superhero, Life says with a slight smile, fingering the mask that hangs from his side. The cops look at each other with raised eyebrows and more than a hint of amusement.
“Oh yeah? Well, can you tell us where Columbia security is?” Jowls says with a brief smile. “Maybe they can help us figure out where this guard is
Life gives them directions and follows them to their car,” I can get in and go with you guys if you’d like…” he says, lingering near the cruiser.
“Ha, ha, nah,” says Jowls. “Thanks.” The cops drive off into the night, leaving Life and his backpack in front of the darkened building.
With the squad car disappears the glimmer of danger, the opportunity to race off in the night, the blue and red flashing. In a movie or a comic book this would be the point where our hero’s story really heats up: He discovers that the mission guard has been captured by an evil avenger with a rampant disdain for any and all authority figures- and now the poor old man is being held hostage in some fortress in the dark recesses of Governor’s Island. And because the bumbling cops neglected to adequately hunt for clues our hero is tasked with his safe return. But this is not a move. This is no adaptation- just plain old New York.  IN the realm of the real, Life watched the cruiser disappears into the night, sighs a puff of cold-etched air, and jaywalks across the street. As he hops from the sidewalk, his boots clearing the curb, he indulges a brief exclamation: “Zing!”
LIFE A.K.A. CHAIM LAZAROS is a real-life superhero- designation that would likely cause many a reader to snort in derision or laugh in abject mockery. Visions of plump, sad comic book fans in spandex leap to mind- images of computer geeks wandering around darkened streets, desperately seeking some nefarious B-level crime to debunk. That’s not Life. Life is a do-gooder. He doesn’t fight crime per se– he takes to the streets and provides aid to the poor souls who many of us outright ignore: the homeless.
In a sense, this is his superpower. Where comic superheroes might manifest their powers through a supernatural affinity for controlling the weather or assuming arachnid capabilities, Life’s chosen specialty is the homeless- although he’s the first to admit that he doesn’t actually have any special abilities. “I hate when people ask where my cape is,” Life says. “Capes are stupid and ineffective. No one flies… I don’t have any super powers,” he adds. “I’m just a person. A poor, young person in New York City- and I help a lot of people. I’m not special.” Nevertheless, as his name suggests, Life provides sustenance and, well, life, to the downtrodden, specializing in a particular realm of aid- and to do so he tapes into his two natural abilities: kindness and an aptitude for spin. Life is a natural PR man, an organizer who uses the aesthetic of the super hero, the sheer flashiness of the concept, to attract others to his cause.
Life is one of the heads of Superheroes Anonymous, a collective of citizen who have made it their mission to do good by the world. Some do it in much the same way as Coalition for the Homeless or Habitat for Humanity, and some do it with the more dangerous, risky flair of vigalantes- but they all do it in costume. Each year it holds a sizable conference during which heroes from all over the world assemble. So far there have been three conferences: one in Times Square, New York City, one in New Orleans, and the most recent in New Bedford, Massachusetts, also known as The Secret City due to its large volume of unsolved homicides.
Superheroes Anonymous, which coalesced into its current state in 2007, hardly marks the first incarnation of real-life superhero-dom, although it is probably the most organized superhero affiliation. According to a history written by Hardwire, a hero from Greensboro, North Carolina, the first real-life superhero date back to the seventeenth century- his name was William Lamport, or Zorro. The modern ideal of real-life heroes started to solidify in the seventies with Captain Sticky, a man by the name of Richard Pesta who would patrol San Diego in a bubble-topped Lincoln clad in blue tights and a cape, working to launch investigations into elder care. And then there was Rick Rojatt, a daredevil known as The Human Fly, whose entire family was killed in a car crash that left him temporarily crippled. The nineties heralded the arrival of Marco Rascon Cordova, a Mexico City resident who became Superbarrio and championed the poor and working class, and Terrifica, a New Yorker who took it upon herself to protect drunken women from unwanted advances. And then there’s Civitron, a father and former counselor for children in transition who patrols New Bedford, Massachusetts with his son, The Mad Owl, a superhero-in-the-making with a love for woodland creatures.
In short, this underground community was flourishing, the network reaching across the world. But it was a fractured connection; these do-gooders mostly communicated via Internet forums and MySpace pages, connected only through the currents of the digital age- until Life came along.
Like all superheroes, life has his own creation myth, which more closely mirrors that of the famed comic book authors that of yore than the apocryphal tales of Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne. Like the majority of old-school creators- immigrants and children of immigrants who invented heroes to battle the myriad woes of their woes- Lazaros is a Jew, the son of an Orthodox rabbi who has seven children in all. The second –oldest child, Lazaros is kind of the black sheet. “He’s a very idealistic kid and he has a lot of pity on people that are downtrodden and homeless. He’s a do-gooder and he wants to do go,” his father says, recalling how, as a child, Life took on his entire bunk at sleepaway camp when they were picking on smaller boy.  Still, he hasn’t quite taken the path that his father would like him to.” I thought it was more like a hobby,” his father says of Life’s superheroing. “But it became a very major part of his life. And obviously as a parent I think there are more important priorities. He’s just turned twenty-five. I’d like to see him get married. I’d like to see him have some kind of a vocation that earns a living. This is a nice thing to do on the side, you know, if you have another career. You have a family and you want to do something like this in your free time, that’s okay. But I don’t think it should be taking up the main part of your time.”
Before he became Life, Chaim was on a path that any proud Orthodox papa would approve of. He attended Yeshiva University- a college that focuses on Jewish scholarship- in New York for one year before deciding that he was too smart for the religious school. He also wanted to study film. He applied to NYU and got in (twice), but his family didn’t have the money to send him. So he left college and worked at one of the country’s top ad agencies, J Walter Thompson, where he executed the mindless task of paying invoices before realizing that he wasn’t going anywhere. He had been attending Brooklyn College at night and living in Crown Heights when his girlfriend suggested he apply to Columbia. He got in, they provided him with ample scholarships, and he was able to follow his chosen path: film studies. Little did he know that becoming a superhero would also be apart of his course of study.
Three years ago, Chaim’s friend Bend Goldman, a senior at New York’s New School, saw a sign reading “Real Life Superheroes” outside a comic book store. He was intrigued, so he Googled the term. The sign turned out to be an advertisement for a drawing class, but Goldman’s internet search revealed the rich history of the movement. Both film students, Lazaros and Goldman decided that the subject was ripe for documentation. “This whole project started off as a documentary,” Ben says. “It’s like a case of Gonzo Journalism where the documentarian becomes the subject, especially with Chaim, since he became a superhero through the project.”
“They’re very isolated in all these different communities and only communicate through MySpace and stuff like that,” Chaim says, “There had been a few very small meet-ups, but it was really this Internet culture. Basically we realized that if we made the first all-encompassing gathering of all the superheroes, then we would be able to shoot a documentary in a day.”
And so it began- the first meeting of Superheroes Anonymous. For Chaim, the convention became an all-consuming task. He barely slept. He lost fifteen pounds. He dedicated every moment to orchestrating a massive gathering to take place in New York’s Time Square. And then the duo hit a snag.
“There was a lot of this bullshit started by this one particular superhero that founded the biggest forum on the Internet for superheroes. He’s named Tothian,” Chaim says, “At the time he was respected just because he was a moderator of this forum he started.”
Tothian is a mysterious figure who resided in New Jersey and likes to keep his persona under wraps. On Facebook, his name is simply Tothian ApmhibiousKnight- He refuses to reveal his real name- and his burred picture shows a man with close-cropped hair, wearing what appears to be armor or a bulletproof vest. “I’ve been patrolling since I was about five years old,” Tothian says. “I knew form as early on in life as I can remember that I would be doing this, not as a game,” he adds. “When I was sixteen I graduated from a military high school. At seventeen I joined the Marine Reserves as an Infantryman. I’ve trained in various styles of martial arts for many years. I study criminology, private investigating and foreign languages.” Now Tothian, an ardent fan of Sherlock Holmes, patrols his local streets, striving to mitigate crime in hotspots like Newark, New Jersey. “I make it a point to never set patterns in times nor patrol routs,” Tothian says. “I have to keep it randomized for two reasons: One I don’t want people to work around my pattern. Two, I don’t want people to track me down.”
Tothian, naturally, takes the concept of being a superhero extremely seriously and was wary of the conference. His wariness, in turn lead a number of attendees to cancel their trips, including the emcee of the event, one of the oldest heroes around, dubbed, simply, Superhero. “We didn’t know them too well yet, nor what to expect,” Tothian explains. “But after we all got to know [Ben and Chaim] we saw that they’re great guys with sincere intentions and actually want to do something good for the world.”
Regardless, back in 2007 Chaim was in a bind- he didn’t want to have a meeting without an official superhero emcee. But Chaim had dons his research- he knew about the different types of superheroes, the “community crusader” in particular. “A community crusader is somebody who is not necessarily in a costume but works from within the community to move forward the cause of real-life superheroeism” Chaim explains.
After the debacle with Tothian, Chaim went to Columbia Chabad to think. “I hadn’t slept at all the night before,” he says. “It was a totally crazy week and I was like, praying and wondering, ‘Who is gonna run this thing?’ Then I realized that all the sacrifices I had been making, the thousands of dollars of my own money, all of my time and life spent toward making this happened made ma a community crusader, and therefore a superhero. And therefore I could be the one to lead this meeting. Son on Sunday when we had the meet up in Times Square, that was when I put on the mask for the first time and claimed myself ‘Life.’”
Ben, in turn, became “The Camera Man.”
“My role in Superheroes Anonymous has always been documenting what the superheroes do,” he says. He doesn’t wear a costume, and he sees this whole project as wholly short-term. He doesn’t go on patrols like Life does, but he does accompany heroes like  The Dark Guardian, a swarthy New Yorker who dresses in head-to-toe leather, when they set out on missions to Washington Square Part to take on drug dealers. Although he denies being a hero, guys like The Dark Guardian would be seriously screwed without Ben around- the fact that he wields a camera helps keep criminals in check, proving that you don’t need freezrays or super strength to fight evil.
Life’s own arsenal is rather limited as well, He carries a cell phone, a pocket knight and a backpack filled with water bottles, military-issue meals and ready to eat, granola bars, socks and whatever else he can scrape together for the homeless he tends to . After parting ways with Jowls and Comb Tracks at the abandoned building, Life takes off down the sidewalk, passing houses wreathed in blinking colored lights to stock up at the local RiteAid. He picks up a coupon book and surveys the deals under the deals under the glare of the florescent lights. “This is where my cheap Jewness comes in,” he says with a laugh, trying to decide between Rice Krispie Treats (cheaper, but less nutritionous) and granola bars. But Chaim isn’t being cheap, per se. He’s a recent college grad who makes a small wage working for the Ripple Project, a documentary film company that focuses on social issues. But being the child of a rabbit, Life was taught to give ten percent of his earnings to charity. At the register, he checks over the receipt with the same precision as a fussy mother, but then grabs a handful of chocolate to add it the finally tally. “I love giving people chocolate because they appreciate it. No one else gives them chocolates,” he says.
Outside in the cold again, Life passes a gaggle of college kids on winter break, decked out in hats and puffy jackets, “I was so fucking wasted last weekend,” a girl squeals as she disappears down the concrete while Life heads to St. John the Divine to pass out supplies to the homeless who huddle on the steps. This is one of his usual haunts, and he tried to get there before the Coalition for the Homeless arrives with boxed meals- usually the homeless scatter after the trucks roll away. But when he arrives he sees he’s too late. The Coalition for the Homeless have come and gone and the poor have likely been shooed away. All that greets him when he arrives are granite steps blanketed in snow and ropes stretching across the stairs. “Those assholes,” he mutters, nothing that the ropes were likely put in place to discourage the homeless from hanging out on the steps.
Back in the summer time, the church was like a regular homeless clubhouse, but right now it’s too cold for anyone to linger outside for long. The homeless are all in shelters or are hiding out somewhere in the darkness. Back in August Chaim had tramped down to St. John’s every week- since graduating, he’s been sorting his life out, moving to Harlem and setting up Superheroes Anonymous headquarters (a.k.a. his apartment). Last summer he had leapt up the stairs distributing vitamins and shampoo to a man named John, who wore a giraffe T-shirt and leaned heavily on a cane. Tonight John isn’t here. “I thought at least the Mexicans would be here,” Life says with a sigh.
The Mexicans usually assemble in the front doorway, huddled together under the granite saints that stare out into the darkness like blank-eyed sentinels. The men are likely here illegally and, as they told Chaim, they have “No worky. No casa. Lots of Mexicans. It’s bad.” This summer they have taught Chaim how to say razor (navaja) and toothbrush (cepillo dental) in Spanish. Chaim had asked where their friend Edguardo was and a man wearing a shirt emblazoned with mountain ranges- the kind of souvenir sweatshirt that you buy on vacation- had pointed up at the saints and uttered, “Jesus.”
“Jesus loves me?” Chaim asked, seeming to misunderstand the sentiment. It’s impossible to tell how many streets have unwittingly become graves.

Photos by Paul Quitoriano

Photos by Paul Quitoriano


Tonight, however, the streets seem free of the homeless. Life wanders past another church covered in blue twinkle lights. He sing-songs in the night jokingly, like the Pied Piper, “Heeere, homeless people. Oh, Hooooomelss people…”
“I have homeless vision,” he says. Just then he sees John, leaning on his cane across from the church. Chaim approaches the old man, shivering on the sidewalk, while college students stream by taking care to make a wide arc around him. Life presents John with handwarmers, a bottle of water and cigarettes. “Is there anything else you need?” Chaim asked. John whispers in a voice barely audible above the cutting wind, “Long underwear.”
“People always ask me how I know what to bring,” Chaim says, taking off once more across the nighttime streets. “I didn’t offer John a grain bar because he has bad teeth. But people tell you what they need. How would I know he needed long underwear if he didn’t tell me?”
And that’s one of Chaim’s greatest powers: He listens. He talked to people whom everyone avoids. The true Mr. and Mrs. Cellophanes. Chaim stops to talk to them all. IN the grand scheme of things, his actions are small- he won’t be clearing New York’s streets of the poor anytime soon, nor will he eradicate poverty and hunger. But he has no illusions in that regard. Life wants to start a movement- to inspire others to do as he does. And that’s the true purpose of Superheroes Anonymous. Chaim has taken a disparate group of misfits and rebels and given them a singular vision- shaping them into a symbol for doing good.
The night is wearing on toward midnight when Life hears a thin whine rising from a huddled mass in front of a corner bank. “I’m so cold!” squeals a man supported by a walker and little else. His pant leg is rolled up far above the knee and he’s shaking violently. “My leg is broken! I haven’t eating in three days!” the main cries as people walk briskly by him, staring steadfastly ahead. Life strides right up to him, “Here, take theses,” Life says, pressing a pack of handwarmers into the man’s shaking palms. Quickly, he hands the man water, cigarettes and the coveted chocolate. The man’s shaking continues, his voice rising in agony,” My hands are so cold.”
A woman pauses on the sidewalk, wrapped in a warm-looking black peacoat with a tailored collar. She notices Life and the man on the sidewalk- the water bottles and the chocolate. She steps forward and stuffs a handful of dollar bills into the man’s shaking cup.

Real-life superheroes step up to help the neighborhood

Originally posted: http://www.jsonline.com/entertainment/90806899.html
By By Steve Ramos, Special to the Journal Sentinel

Posted: April 14, 2010 5:10 p.m

Shadow Hare has a catchy theme song, courtesy of an Internet radio station. He has a secret headquarters on the border of Cincinnati’s Over-the-Rhine neighborhood – or, at least, it functions as one when shop workers aren’t busy selling Segways. He even has a pretty female sidekick named Silver Moon.
Donning black handmade tights and a lightweight ski mask and hitting the streets via a zipping Segway to fight crime, Shadow Hare, like the rest of the growing number of costumed heroes around the country from Utah to Ohio to Wisconsin, is about more than dressing up as a favorite fantasy character.
He’s a real crime-fighter. So is Watchman, who patrols Milwaukee’s Riverwest neighborhood and other parts of the city in a red mask and loose black trench coat that help hide his identity, although the bold “W” insignia on his sweatshirt and his red latex clothes identify him as a member of Real Life Superheroes, a Web-based group with the aim of supporting and inspiring street-level efforts to make a difference – in costume or not.
These costumed crime-fighters have their share of fans: A pair of news clips about Shadow Hare on YouTube each have had more than 500,000 views.

Movie version

Now, on the eve of the movie “Kick-Ass” – a violent action comedy based on a graphic novel about real people dressing up as superheroes and fighting crime, opening in theaters Friday – Shadow Hare and his real-life costumed-hero counterparts face a new threat: company from copycats.
“Based on the previous history of superhero-related movie releases, I expect a large influx of people to join the movement,” Watchman said via e-mail. “Many of them won’t stick around for long as the novelty wears off quickly. Those who stay on will be a mixture of people who think it’s cool and those truly wishing to make a difference in society.
“But the difference with ‘Kick-Ass’ is that it’s sort of being promoted as real life. Because of that, there is a general fear that some people may try to mimic the violence displayed in the movie. I think I speak for most, if not all, people within the movement when saying we do not condone those types of actions.”
Tea Krulos, a Milwaukee writer and creator of the real-life superheroes blog Heroes in the Night (heroesinthenight.blogspot.com/), has called Riverwest home since he was 18 and acts somewhat as a personal historian to Watchman and other costumed heroes. Krulos, who is working on turning his blog into a book about the real-life superhero movement, frequently travels around the country to meet with other real-life heroes.
“A director came to town shooting footage for a proposed TV reality show on real-life superheroes and called me the Jimmy Olsen to Watchman and the heroes, which I thought was cool,” Krulos said. “One of the Real-Life Superheroes told me that I should put on a costume and join them, but I think the best way I can help them is to write about them.”

Online stores, reality TV

They’re already pretty organized. The World Superhero Registry offers a 12-step guide for new heroes and advice about whether one should include a cape in one’s costume (the consensus: capes get in the way). And there are other groups, including the Heroes Network, Superheroes Anonymous and the Great Lakes Heroes Guild, that use the Web to talk shop and coordinate community and charity efforts.
One hero, Captain Ozone, sells merchandise online, including boxer shorts and a $8 thong with his logo. Razorhawk, from Minneapolis, runs the Web site Hero-Gear.net, a business where “real-life superheroes” can buy their fighting togs.

Creating a stir

And even before the hype surrounding “Kick-Ass” started surfacing, the buzz has been building around the movie’s real-life equivalents.
Ben Goldman and Chaim Lazaros are working on a documentary about real-life heroes in New York and New Orleans. Two production companies are competing to set up a reality TV series about real-life heroes. A comedy called “Super” is in postproduction, with Rainn Wilson as an average guy who becomes a superhero called The Crimson Bolt to save his wife from a drug dealer.
What’s driving art – and real life – to everyday super-herodom?
“I think the most common theme that has inspired people in this movement is the general state in which we see our world,” Watchman said. “It is all of the bad things we see repeatedly, day in and day out. We are sick of it and we no longer wish to sit by and do nothing. This is our way of making a stand.”

Finding inspiration

“As far as the costumes,” Watchman said, “it’s difficult to pinpoint specifics on inspiration for our choice of attire, but most of us have been inspired by fictional superheroes of one type or another.”
In “Kick-Ass,” the characters show little reservation – if not always skill – in using violence. In real life, the reaction isn’t so uniform.
Amateur heroes use Tasers, handcuffs and pepper spray instead of super powers.
Krulos said a couple of amateur heroes have left organizations such as the Heroes Network over disagreements about the use of violence when fighting crime.

Missing in action?

Other heroes, such as Salt Lake City’s Captain Prime, who sports an elaborate rubber suit similar to the “Kick-Ass” character Big Daddy, have retired. Shadow Hare, too, has been missing in action lately, although some speculate he hung up his tights to attend college full time.
But the biggest threat facing real-life superheroes may be that few seem to take them seriously.
By By Steve Ramos, Special to the Journal Sentinel

Posted: April 14, 2010 5:10 p.m

On a warm spring afternoon in Milford, Ohio, a small town east of Cincinnati that Shadow Hare identifies as his hometown on his Facebook page, most shopkeepers say they’ve never heard of him. If you watch news reports on him and other costumed heroes – including one by WITI-TV (Channel 6) last winter on Watchman that’s available on YouTube – they’re shown as curiosities more than crime-fighters.
The release of “Kick-Ass” could put them into a brighter spotlight.
 

Superheroes Anonymous

Photos by Paul Quitoriano

Photos by Paul Quitoriano


Originally posted in Death + Taxes Magainze MarchApril 2010 issue
Scanned pages:
superheroes_page_1 superheroes_page_2
Missing page 3- Admin
By Breena Ehrlich
Hollywood abounds with stories these days. But somewhere out there just beyond the shadows, from New York City to Mexico City to New Bedford, Massachusetts, lurks a bona fide, HONEST TO GOD NETWORK OF REAL REAL –LIFE SUPERHEROES. They are not Watchmen. They are not even Kick-Ass or Red Mist. No bullet-proof vest, no Chinese stars. These are normal people- students, bankers, what have you. They just happen to patrol over society in costume, fighting crime and doing good deeds under aliases like Life and The Dark Guardian. They are Superheroes Anonymous. For real.
What’s going on here?” Life asks, ambling up to a pair of cops as they peer though the dusty glass doors of a seemingly abandoned building. The copes turn around, take in the young man’s young face; he looks like one of the Culkin brothers- like that kind from Igby Goes Down. The kid’s fedora is set at a jaunty angle, his black cargo pants are tucked into black jungle boots, his backpack weighs down his shoulders, even though they’re thrown back confidently. He looks like a Brooklyn-dweller. A college student. A kid. Perhaps a nosy kid, the kind that watched too many cops shows as a kid. They probably don’t notice the black mask hanging from his belt loop, or the tzitzis poking out the bottom of his black winter coat.
One of the cops, a jowly man with buzzed hair and a gently swelling belly, gives Life a slight smile. “WE got a call. Some woman can’t get a hold of her husband who’s a security guard. She says she works here, but this place seems abandoned,” he answers with surprising candor and a perfectly stereotypical New York Accent.
“Yeah,” says the other cop, running his hand over his slicked-back gray hair, which still has comb tracks in it from earlier grooming. “I mean, there’s tap on the windows. That means it’s abandoned, right?”
The copes continue to peer though the darkened windows as Life jumps down to inspect a basement-level door. The radios on their belts buzz and crackle: “The missing child is approximately four feet tall, wearing a striped sweater. The suspect-“ Life joins the copes on the steps in mutual consideration of the darkened building, a gray stone apartment building near the Columbia University campus- close enough to Riverside Park that the assemblage can feel the cold air off the water buffeting their backs and faces. The jowly cop’s cheeks are red.
The men in blue bang on the door a few times and then turn to Life with equally stern brows. “Stand back,” says the gray haired cop and positions his shoulders as if to break the door down. Life hops back a little and the cops laugh. “Just Kidding,” Comb Tracks says.
“So are you a student?” Jowls inquires, apparently in no hurry to solve the mystery of the missing security guard.
“No, actually I’m a Real-Life Superhero, Life says with a slight smile, fingering the mask that hangs from his side. The cops look at each other with raised eyebrows and more than a hint of amusement.
“Oh yeah? Well, can you tell us where Columbia security is?” Jowls says with a brief smile. “Maybe they can help us figure out where this guard is
Life gives them directions and follows them to their car,” I can get in and go with you guys if you’d like…” he says, lingering near the cruiser.
“Ha, ha, nah,” says Jowls. “Thanks.” The cops drive off into the night, leaving Life and his backpack in front of the darkened building.
With the squad car disappears the glimmer of danger, the opportunity to race off in the night, the blue and red flashing. In a movie or a comic book this would be the point where our hero’s story really heats up: He discovers that the mission guard has been captured by an evil avenger with a rampant disdain for any and all authority figures- and now the poor old man is being held hostage in some fortress in the dark recesses of Governor’s Island. And because the bumbling cops neglected to adequately hunt for clues our hero is tasked with his safe return. But this is not a move. This is no adaptation- just plain old New York.  IN the realm of the real, Life watched the cruiser disappears into the night, sighs a puff of cold-etched air, and jaywalks across the street. As he hops from the sidewalk, his boots clearing the curb, he indulges a brief exclamation: “Zing!”
LIFE A.K.A. CHAIM LAZAROS is a real-life superhero- designation that would likely cause many a reader to snort in derision or laugh in abject mockery. Visions of plump, sad comic book fans in spandex leap to mind- images of computer geeks wandering around darkened streets, desperately seeking some nefarious B-level crime to debunk. That’s not Life. Life is a do-gooder. He doesn’t fight crime per se– he takes to the streets and provides aid to the poor souls who many of us outright ignore: the homeless.
In a sense, this is his superpower. Where comic superheroes might manifest their powers through a supernatural affinity for controlling the weather or assuming arachnid capabilities, Life’s chosen specialty is the homeless- although he’s the first to admit that he doesn’t actually have any special abilities. “I hate when people ask where my cape is,” Life says. “Capes are stupid and ineffective. No one flies… I don’t have any super powers,” he adds. “I’m just a person. A poor, young person in New York City- and I help a lot of people. I’m not special.” Nevertheless, as his name suggests, Life provides sustenance and, well, life, to the downtrodden, specializing in a particular realm of aid- and to do so he tapes into his two natural abilities: kindness and an aptitude for spin. Life is a natural PR man, an organizer who uses the aesthetic of the super hero, the sheer flashiness of the concept, to attract others to his cause.
Photos by Paul Quitoriano

Photos by Paul Quitoriano


Life is one of the heads of Superheroes Anonymous, a collective of citizen who have made it their mission to do good by the world. Some do it in much the same way as Coalition for the Homeless or Habitat for Humanity, and some do it with the more dangerous, risky flair of vigalantes- but they all do it in costume. Each year it holds a sizable conference during which heroes from all over the world assemble. So far there have been three conferences: one in Times Square, New York City, one in New Orleans, and the most recent in New Bedford, Massachusetts, also known as The Secret City due to its large volume of unsolved homicides.
Superheroes Anonymous, which coalesced into its current state in 2007, hardly marks the first incarnation of real-life superhero-dom, although it is probably the most organized superhero affiliation. According to a history written by Hardwire, a hero from Greensboro, North Carolina, the first real-life superhero date back to the seventeenth century- his name was William Lamport, or Zorro. The modern ideal of real-life heroes started to solidify in the seventies with Captain Sticky, a man by the name of Richard Pesta who would patrol San Diego in a bubble-topped Lincoln clad in blue tights and a cape, working to launch investigations into elder care. And then there was Rick Rojatt, a daredevil known as The Human Fly, whose entire family was killed in a car crash that left him temporarily crippled. The nineties heralded the arrival of Marco Rascon Cordova, a Mexico City resident who became Superbarrio and championed the poor and working class, and Terrifica, a New Yorker who took it upon herself to protect drunken women from unwanted advances. And then there’s Civitron, a father and former counselor for children in transition who patrols New Bedford, Massachusetts with his son, The Mad Owl, a superhero-in-the-making with a love for woodland creatures.
In short, this underground community was flourishing, the network reaching across the world. But it was a fractured connection; these do-gooders mostly communicated via Internet forums and MySpace pages, connected only through the currents of the digital age- until Life came along.
Like all superheroes, life has his own creation myth, which more closely mirrors that of the famed comic book authors that of yore than the apocryphal tales of Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne. Like the majority of old-school creators- immigrants and children of immigrants who invented heroes to battle the myriad woes of their woes- Lazaros is a Jew, the son of an Orthodox rabbi who has seven children in all. The second –oldest child, Lazaros is kind of the black sheet. “He’s a very idealistic kid and he has a lot of pity on people that are downtrodden and homeless. He’s a do-gooder and he wants to do go,” his father says, recalling how, as a child, Life took on his entire bunk at sleepaway camp when they were picking on smaller boy.  Still, he hasn’t quite taken the path that his father would like him to.” I thought it was more like a hobby,” his father says of Life’s superheroing. “But it became a very major part of his life. And obviously as a parent I think there are more important priorities. He’s just turned twenty-five. I’d like to see him get married. I’d like to see him have some kind of a vocation that earns a living. This is a nice thing to do on the side, you know, if you have another career. You have a family and you want to do something like this in your free time, that’s okay. But I don’t think it should be taking up the main part of your time.”
Before he became Life, Chaim was on a path that any proud Orthodox papa would approve of. He attended Yeshiva University- a college that focuses on Jewish scholarship- in New York for one year before deciding that he was too smart for the religious school. He also wanted to study film. He applied to NYU and got in (twice), but his family didn’t have the money to send him. So he left college and worked at one of the country’s top ad agencies, J Walter Thompson, where he executed the mindless task of paying invoices before realizing that he wasn’t going anywhere. He had been attending Brooklyn College at night and living in Crown Heights when his girlfriend suggested he apply to Columbia. He got in, they provided him with ample scholarships, and he was able to follow his chosen path: film studies. Little did he know that becoming a superhero would also be apart of his course of study.
Three years ago, Chaim’s friend Bend Goldman, a senior at New York’s New School, saw a sign reading “Real Life Superheroes” outside a comic book store. He was intrigued, so he Googled the term. The sign turned out to be an advertisement for a drawing class, but Goldman’s internet search revealed the rich history of the movement. Both film students, Lazaros and Goldman decided that the subject was ripe for documentation. “This whole project started off as a documentary,” Ben says. “It’s like a case of Gonzo Journalism where the documentarian becomes the subject, especially with Chaim, since he became a superhero through the project.”
“They’re very isolated in all these different communities and only communicate through MySpace and stuff like that,” Chaim says, “There had been a few very small meet-ups, but it was really this Internet culture. Basically we realized that if we made the first all-encompassing gathering of all the superheroes, then we would be able to shoot a documentary in a day.”
And so it began- the first meeting of Superheroes Anonymous. For Chaim, the convention became an all-consuming task. He barely slept. He lost fifteen pounds. He dedicated every moment to orchestrating a massive gathering to take place in New York’s Time Square. And then the duo hit a snag.
“There was a lot of this bullshit started by this one particular superhero that founded the biggest forum on the Internet for superheroes. He’s named Tothian,” Chaim says, “At the time he was respected just because he was a moderator of this forum he started.”
Tothian is a mysterious figure who resided in New Jersey and likes to keep his persona under wraps. On Facebook, his name is simply Tothian ApmhibiousKnight- He refuses to reveal his real name- and his burred picture shows a man with close-cropped hair, wearing what appears to be armor or a bulletproof vest. “I’ve been patrolling since I was about five years old,” Tothian says. “I knew form as early on in life as I can remember that I would be doing this, not as a game,” he adds. “When I was sixteen I graduated from a military high school. At seventeen I joined the Marine Reserves as an Infantryman. I’ve trained in various styles of martial arts for many years. I study criminology, private investigating and foreign languages.” Now Tothian, an ardent fan of Sherlock Holmes, patrols his local streets, striving to mitigate crime in hotspots like Newark, New Jersey. “I make it a point to never set patterns in times nor patrol routs,” Tothian says. “I have to keep it randomized for two reasons: One I don’t want people to work around my pattern. Two, I don’t want people to track me down.”
Photos by Paul Quitoriano

Photos by Paul Quitoriano


Tothian, naturally, takes the concept of being a superhero extremely seriously and was wary of the conference. His wariness, in turn lead a number of attendees to cancel their trips, including the emcee of the event, one of the oldest heroes around, dubbed, simply, Superhero. “We didn’t know them too well yet, nor what to expect,” Tothian explains. “But after we all got to know [Ben and Chaim] we saw that they’re great guys with sincere intentions and actually want to do something good for the world.”
Regardless, back in 2007 Chaim was in a bind- he didn’t want to have a meeting without an official superhero emcee. But Chaim had dons his research- he knew about the different types of superheroes, the “community crusader” in particular. “A community crusader is somebody who is not necessarily in a costume but works from within the community to move forward the cause of real-life superheroeism” Chaim explains.
After the debacle with Tothian, Chaim went to Columbia Chabad to think. “I hadn’t slept at all the night before,” he says. “It was a totally crazy week and I was like, praying and wondering, ‘Who is gonna run this thing?’ Then I realized that all the sacrifices I had been making, the thousands of dollars of my own money, all of my time and life spent toward making this happened made ma a community crusader, and therefore a superhero. And therefore I could be the one to lead this meeting. Son on Sunday when we had the meet up in Times Square, that was when I put on the mask for the first time and claimed myself ‘Life.’”
Ben, in turn, became “The Camera Man.”
“My role in Superheroes Anonymous has always been documenting what the superheroes do,” he says. He doesn’t wear a costume, and he sees this whole project as wholly short-term. He doesn’t go on patrols like Life does, but he does accompany heroes like  The Dark Guardian, a swarthy New Yorker who dresses in head-to-toe leather, when they set out on missions to Washington Square Part to take on drug dealers. Although he denies being a hero, guys like The Dark Guardian would be seriously screwed without Ben around- the fact that he wields a camera helps keep criminals in check, proving that you don’t need freezrays or super strength to fight evil.
Life’s own arsenal is rather limited as well, He carries a cell phone, a pocket knight and a backpack filled with water bottles, military-issue meals and ready to eat, granola bars, socks and whatever else he can scrape together for the homeless he tends to . After parting ways with Jowls and Comb Tracks at the abandoned building, Life takes off down the sidewalk, passing houses wreathed in blinking colored lights to stock up at the local RiteAid. He picks up a coupon book and surveys the deals under the deals under the glare of the florescent lights. “This is where my cheap Jewness comes in,” he says with a laugh, trying to decide between Rice Krispie Treats (cheaper, but less nutritionous) and granola bars. But Chaim isn’t being cheap, per se. He’s a recent college grad who makes a small wage working for the Ripple Project, a documentary film company that focuses on social issues. But being the child of a rabbit, Life was taught to give ten percent of his earnings to charity. At the register, he checks over the receipt with the same precision as a fussy mother, but then grabs a handful of chocolate to add it the finally tally. “I love giving people chocolate because they appreciate it. No one else gives them chocolates,” he says.
Outside in the cold again, Life passes a gaggle of college kids on winter break, decked out in hats and puffy jackets, “I was so fucking wasted last weekend,” a girl squeals as she disappears down the concrete while Life heads to St. John the Divine to pass out supplies to the homeless who huddle on the steps. This is one of his usual haunts, and he tried to get there before the Coalition for the Homeless arrives with boxed meals- usually the homeless scatter after the trucks roll away. But when he arrives he sees he’s too late. The Coalition for the Homeless have come and gone and the poor have likely been shooed away. All that greets him when he arrives are granite steps blanketed in snow and ropes stretching across the stairs. “Those assholes,” he mutters, nothing that the ropes were likely put in place to discourage the homeless from hanging out on the steps.
Back in the summer time, the church was like a regular homeless clubhouse, but right now it’s too cold for anyone to linger outside for long. The homeless are all in shelters or are hiding out somewhere in the darkness. Back in August Chaim had tramped down to St. John’s every week- since graduating, he’s been sorting his life out, moving to Harlem and setting up Superheroes Anonymous headquarters (a.k.a. his apartment). Last summer he had leapt up the stairs distributing vitamins and shampoo to a man named John, who wore a giraffe T-shirt and leaned heavily on a cane. Tonight John isn’t here. “I thought at least the Mexicans would be here,” Life says with a sigh.
The Mexicans usually assemble in the front doorway, huddled together under the granite saints that stare out into the darkness like blank-eyed sentinels. The men are likely here illegally and, as they told Chaim, they have “No worky. No casa. Lots of Mexicans. It’s bad.” This summer they have taught Chaim how to say razor (navaja) and toothbrush (cepillo dental) in Spanish. Chaim had asked where their friend Edguardo was and a man wearing a shirt emblazoned with mountain ranges- the kind of souvenir sweatshirt that you buy on vacation- had pointed up at the saints and uttered, “Jesus.”
“Jesus loves me?” Chaim asked, seeming to misunderstand the sentiment. It’s impossible to tell how many streets have unwittingly become graves.
Photos by Paul Quitoriano

Photos by Paul Quitoriano


Tonight, however, the streets seem free of the homeless. Life wanders past another church covered in blue twinkle lights. He sing-songs in the night jokingly, like the Pied Piper, “Heeere, homeless people. Oh, Hooooomelss people…”
“I have homeless vision,” he says. Just then he sees John, leaning on his cane across from the church. Chaim approaches the old man, shivering on the sidewalk, while college students stream by taking care to make a wide arc around him. Life presents John with handwarmers, a bottle of water and cigarettes. “Is there anything else you need?” Chaim asked. John whispers in a voice barely audible above the cutting wind, “Long underwear.”
“People always ask me how I know what to bring,” Chaim says, taking off once more across the nighttime streets. “I didn’t offer John a grain bar because he has bad teeth. But people tell you what they need. How would I know he needed long underwear if he didn’t tell me?”
And that’s one of Chaim’s greatest powers: He listens. He talked to people whom everyone avoids. The true Mr. and Mrs. Cellophanes. Chaim stops to talk to them all. IN the grand scheme of things, his actions are small- he won’t be clearing New York’s streets of the poor anytime soon, nor will he eradicate poverty and hunger. But he has no illusions in that regard. Life wants to start a movement- to inspire others to do as he does. And that’s the true purpose of Superheroes Anonymous. Chaim has taken a disparate group of misfits and rebels and given them a singular vision- shaping them into a symbol for doing good.
The night is wearing on toward midnight when Life hears a thin whine rising from a huddled mass in front of a corner bank. “I’m so cold!” squeals a man supported by a walker and little else. His pant leg is rolled up far above the knee and he’s shaking violently. “My leg is broken! I haven’t eating in three days!” the main cries as people walk briskly by him, staring steadfastly ahead. Life strides right up to him, “Here, take theses,” Life says, pressing a pack of handwarmers into the man’s shaking palms. Quickly, he hands the man water, cigarettes and the coveted chocolate. The man’s shaking continues, his voice rising in agony,” My hands are so cold.”
A woman pauses on the sidewalk, wrapped in a warm-looking black peacoat with a tailored collar. She notices Life and the man on the sidewalk- the water bottles and the chocolate. She steps forward and stuffs a handful of dollar bills into the man’s shaking cup.

Super friends

Originally posted at http://thephoenix.com/Boston/Life/94281-Super-friends/

STREET JUSTICE: Real-life superheroes are now so numerous throughout the country that they have a national organization, Superheroes Anonymous. New England regional heroes include, second from left, Basilisk, Civitron, Beau Shay Monde, and Recluse. Rapper Tem Blessed (far left) has collaborated with Civitron.

STREET JUSTICE: Real-life superheroes are now so numerous throughout the country that they have a national organization, Superheroes Anonymous. New England regional heroes include, second from left, Basilisk, Civitron, Beau Shay Monde, and Recluse. Rapper Tem Blessed (far left) has collaborated with Civitron.


Move over, Clark Kent. All over New England, mild-mannered citizens are suiting up and doing their part to play the hero.
By TEA KRULOS
THWAK! I swing with my right fist, trying to connect with my opponent’s face. In a smooth motion, he deflects my punch with his forearm, which is protected with a black and metallic-plastic arm gauntlet. I swing with my left fist, and am again knocked away effortlessly. I can see my reflection in his sunglasses, framed in white. He smiles and smoothes out his red and white spandex shirt — adorned with a letter “C,” a flame shooting out of the top — and then crouches into a fighting stance.
“Oh, no,” I think. “I’m about to get my ass kicked by a Lycra-wearing superhero.”
This non-caped crusader goes by the name of Civitron, and lucky for me, our combat is not a battle royale to the death. Rather, we are sparring at Rebelo’s Kenpo Karate, in New Bedford, where Civitron has trained under sensei Joseph “Kenpo Joe” Rebelo on and off for more than 10 years. We aren’t alone.
Twelve other “real-life superheroes,” striking and grappling, are crowded into the dojo for a martial-arts workshop led by Rebelo (who, despite his superhero-sounding last name, is not a member of this tribe). The heroes have flown in — by plane from all over the country to take part in a three-day conference called “Superheroes Anonymous,” which is akin to a modern-day Justice League confab. They are wearing a multi-hued rainbow of spandex costumes, but there is also an emphasis on “real.” These aren’t the chiseled matinee-idol muscle men and women of the comics pages — more like the people with whom you ride the bus. Yes, some are athletic and tall, but some are short with pot bellies. It’s doubtful these heroes will put the fear of God into real-life hoodlums, let alone the Penguin or Dr. Octopus.
“We come in all shapes, sizes, backgrounds, and beliefs,” says Civitron. (In the tradition of protecting a superhero’s alter ego, these heroes agreed to speak with the Phoenix as long as we could assure them their secret identities would be safe.) There is Nyx, a curvy New Jersey woman, dressed in gray leotards with a red dust mask covering her lower face. She is sparring against Zimmer, who has just arrived from Austin. Zimmer, short and wiry, wears a spandex shirt, the binary code for the letter “Z” streaming down one side. Zetaman traveled from Portland, Oregon, with a suitcase full of bulky blue plastic armor (superheroes of other eras never had to get their costumes through airport security). Scavenger has on a black mask and corset; black plastic streamers hang from her arms. Her main focus, superhero-wise, is picking up litter in Waterbury, Connecticut, where she has traveled from with her friend, the mountainous Runebringer. He is wrapped in a large gray coat with runic characters decorating his chest.
A lifelong superhero fan, Rebelo, 48, is clearly relishing his surreal position as instructor to a class whose students look as if they had stepped out of a stack of his comic books. As he yells out instructions, his colorful combatants block and counter strike, a Roy Lichtenstein–like comic panel of goggles, masks, combat boots, homemade utility belts, and capes come to life.
After training for a few days in the superhero arts, these mortals will return home and watch over their cities — maybe in a neighborhood near you.
Superheroes in real life
The real-life superhero (RLSH) scene is, believe it or not, a growing movement of people who adopt a superhero persona of their own creation, then perform small-scale heroic deeds, such as donating to charities or watching their streets for criminal behavior. Some can acquit themselves admirably in the fighting arena, whereas others make do by carrying pepper spray and Tasers, but most stress that their best weapon is a cell phone to call the police.
If the image of mere mortals walking the streets in homemade costumes is strange, consider that our vicarious culture has increasingly catered to our fantasy lives. We’re assuming the lives of rock stars, soldiers, and athletes in video games, and immersing ourselves completely in characters created in World of Warcraft, Second Life, and other online role-playing games. We watch artificial realities on TV, and read celebrity blogs on MySpace and Twitter.
Combine this with the grand American tradition of the superhero comic book, which took its first BAM! and POW! steps into the pop-culture pantheon more than 70 years ago. In the last several years, the Spider-Man, X-Men, and Batman franchises, among others, have smashed box-office records like the Hulk on a rampage. Add to that hit TV shows like Heroes and the popularity of graphic novels, and it’s easy to see the yearning of your everyday Clark Kent to be something, well, more super.
The spreading of the RLSH philosophy has been as simple as a click of the mouse. Internet chat rooms and YouTube videos connected new superheroes from city to city. Inevitably, regionalized teams formed and events like Superheroes Anonymous were set up so that like-minded heroes could meet, mask to mask.
First-time filmmakers Ben Goldman and Chaim Lazaros founded the annual conference three years ago, to capture heroes uniting to work together in New York City, with additional footage shot the next year in New Orleans. (Their documentary is currently in post-production.) Civitron volunteered to host this year’s conference in the “Secret City” of New Bedford. (Not exactly the Fortress of Solitude, but it will do in a pinch.)
Originally a premise to get quirky, compelling footage, Superheroes Anonymous has evolved. Besides the annual conference, it has recently been rethought of as a nonprofit organization, with chapters in New Bedford; New York; Raleigh, North Carolina; and Portland, Oregon.
“We’ve already met with lawyers to go over nonprofit paperwork,” says Civitron. “The funny thing is, they were really disappointed that they wouldn’t be representing crazy people who thought they had super powers.”
OWL’S WELL New Bedford’s Civitron (right) has some potent super genes — his six-year-old son is also a superhero: Mad Owl.

OWL’S WELL New Bedford’s Civitron (right) has some potent super genes — his six-year-old son is also a superhero: Mad Owl.


New England heroes
“New England has a long history of people looking for justice, and I think it’s been passed down generation to generation,” says Civitron, who was born in Boston and moved to New Bedford in sixth grade. He says the history, and even the East Coast’s Gotham City–like architecture, makes New England a great place to hang a superhero shingle.
Perhaps that’s why the region is damn near overrun with superheroes.
Recluse also calls New Bedford home. Clad in a studded rubber mask and a shirt with the white outline of a spider, he is a mysterious and elusive figure, true to his name. He does, however, agree to speak briefly with the Phoenix.
“When I first started,” recalls Recluse, “I was doing patrols in one of [New Bedford’s] worst neighborhoods, the South End. A lot of drug dealers, a lot of gangs, and I got injured doing that. . . . I thought it was like the comic books, apparently. I don’t know what I was thinking. I tried to stop three people from breaking into a house and I got thrown off the porch and landed on my shoulder, so I learned a lesson there.”
Since then, he says, he has taken a more careful approach, hitting the streets as a dynamic duo with a trained martial artist who calls himself Bushido (Japanese for “way of the warrior,” and the name of the moral code the samurai lived by). While combing the streets for crime, he wears street clothes — and a ballistics vest.
Recluse, too, has been donning plainclothes of late, “trying to observe and report more,” he says. “I knew Bushido way before I ever donned my Recluse mask; he saw what I was doing and he wanted to do it as well. We patrol from a vehicle with a video camera and only get involved if it’s an immediate danger to someone or someone’s property.”
Basilisk, inspired by Batman, cruises around the Taunton area. You’ll recognize him as the guy wearing a trench coat, goggles, a hood, and gloves. He met Civitron online, and the two now meet regularly to get coffee and discuss life, or to go look for wrongs to right.
Basilisk says he views himself as “a servant of the people. I take this goal very seriously,” he says. “Basically I want to be myself and I want to make a difference.”
If any bad dudes venture farther north, specifically in the Lewiston and Auburn area of Maine, they’ll be entering Slapjack’s turf. Slapjack says he first adopted his persona for the online role-playing game City of Heroes. But after hearing about other real-life superheroes, he decided it was time for his character to move from the virtual world to the real streets to watch for crime and help with charity work.
His look is inspired by the classic comic-noir hero The Shadow. They both wear a fedora and trench coat, and Slapjack has a mask with a spade and a diamond over the eyes. He sometimes carries metal-framed playing cards that can be tossed like throwing knives.
“Slapjack is the complete opposite of who I am,” he says, reflecting on his costumed persona. “I’m a really happy-go-lucky type of guy. I am very social and open, and Slapjack is like the darker personality. He is more secretive, more opinionated, he’s let his mind go and it really is like a Clark Kent/Superman or Bruce Wayne/Batman type of thing.”
There are numerous other heroes in the region. Among them: The Beetle of Portland, Maine, who couldn’t be reached for comment; someone calling themselves “Samaritan” from Providence, who recently contacted Civitron, and said he had been walking his beat for the last couple years, unaware of the larger RLSH movement; and the retired Ms. Kismet of New Bedford, whose MySpace page notes that “I carry a backpack, which hold[s] a great number of useful superhero things, like . . . alcohol-based hand sanitizer (it does the trick without promoting bacteria resistance).”
Instrument of the people
Civitron’s heroic name comes from the Roman civi (of the people) and the Greek suffix tron (instrument), and describes how he sees himself. He is of Puerto Rican and Italian decent, with the build of a runner and someone who takes his martial-arts training seriously.
“Something I say all the time is that I’m not really Civitron alone,” he tells me later by phone, as he watches over his neighborhood. “Civitron is a creation of everybody in my life who helped me get to this point.”
This eclectic hero-forming collective includes Civitron’s mom, whom he credits with teaching him to be a strong person, but not a “tough guy.” “He’s always wanted to save the world,” she says.
Civitron’s partner, Jennifer, is also supportive of him. Their six-year-old son has even adopted his own superhero persona, Mad Owl, complete with a brown-and-gold owl costume.
But other than the father and son having secret identities, the three actually seem like a pretty normal family. Jennifer goes to school for biology. Civitron — who has a very warm, Zen-like personality, almost constantly smiling — has worked as a counselor, and currently is involved with a day program for autistic patients.
Whereas many comic-book superheroes are reviled in their communities, Civitron has legions of fans. They include the former RLSH Green Sage, a friend from New Bedford who has retired his own hero costume but still supports Civitron’s efforts, and Tem Blessed, a positive-message rapper from Providence who has collaborated with Civitron on a food drive. The two plan to work on projects together in the future.
Civitron says his first meeting with his sensei, Rebelo, was in a comic-book store. Rebelo is proud of Civitron and his colleagues.
“His actions make others aware that they can act heroically, too,” says Rebelo. “Helping a food pantry, picking up litter, distributing food and clothes to the poor — these are actions that so many people have given up on. You hear so much about not being a snitch, about not getting involved. There’s a famous quote from Charles Barkley, ‘I’m not a role model.’ Civitron is saying the opposite of all that — that he is a role model. He wants to be involved and do something positive.”
Don’t expect the New Bedford Police Department to build a bat-signal anytime soon, though.
“We prefer to be the only costumed crime fighters out there,” says Lieutenant Jeffrey Silva, a police spokesman. He says the department is aware of real-life superheroes, but they have yet to cross paths with them.
“Although they might be well-intentioned, we don’t endorse citizen patrols, because we don’t know the level of training,” says Silva. Even so, he concedes that any help to police is welcome.
“Anytime someone wants to get involved and help police, we see it as a good thing, so long as they don’t work without police participation. We prefer people to be the eyes and ears of the police.”
But what about the strange costumes?
“Well, fortunately, we’re not the fashion police,” states Silva.
So what is the payoff for dressing as a superhero and running through dark and dangerous alleyways in the moonlight? Slapjack says that the realization that he is trying to do something positive is his reward.
“Knowing that you are going out there and being proactive and helping makes you feel good about accomplishing something,” says Slapjack. “My father always said, ‘No matter how bad your life, no matter how hard, there is always someone a lot worse off than you are.’ I always took that to heart, and use that as motivation to be better and do good.”
“I just see myself as someone trying to make things better,” agrees Recluse, “and I hope that people see me as that.” As for Civitron, he says being a father is a reason he wants to make the world a better place.
“I’ll be satisfied in the end if I’m just perceived as doing my part,” he says, “contributing to society and making my community better. I like being real and living my truth.”
For more information, visit the Web sites superheroesanonymous.com and reallifesuperheroes.org. Tea Krulos is a freelance writer from Milwaukee. He can be reached at [email protected].

Real Life Heroes Don Costumes Across the U.S.

By Tony Rutherford
Huntingtonnews.net Entertainment Editor
Huntington, WV (HNN) – Faster, flying, looking, chasing… in the fantasy worlds of Gotham City and Metropolis, individuals with super powers take on the bad guys missed by law enforcement. Believe it or not, costumed (and non-costumed) heroes have emerged in various global locations performing community service, indirectly assisting the police, and helping homeless.

CNN recently featured a piece on heroes helping in hard times. Some go by comic book-like names (Mr. Ravenblade, Dark Guardian, Warrior Girl or Captain Safety ) and may wear a costume. Others may be a regular Joe or Jane. ( http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/06/04/real.life.superheroes/index.html )

What prompted the real-life superhero movement?
Ben Goldman, a real-life superhero historian, who runs Superheroes Anonymous (http://superheroesanonymous.com) , stated to CNN: “A lot of them go through an existential crisis and have to discover who they are.” He continued, as people put more value on what they can do rather than the “stuff” in the house, “they realize that money is fleeting.”
Actually, the article suggests that the oddity grew past such efforts as the Guardian Angel citizen patrols (of the 80s). Admittedly, some of those adopting such a persona have to contend and balance communication , contact, and conduct with local law enforcement officers. Some of the real people have been shot at, arrested, and rebuked. Some have been called vigilantes. Others have won respect from short handed officers who welcome extra eyes and ears.
A press release at Real Life Superheroes explains the grassroots movement of people create a “superhero identity and work in a fun, exciting and inspirational fashion to make the world a better place. They are making an impact by doing civic activities, public safety patrols, crime fighting, charity work, school talks, hospital visits, helping the needy, and more acts to serve society. They are breaking the comic book barrier and bringing the ideals of superheroes into the real world. Real Life Superheroes create living positive role models which our children are in need of. The concept of a superhero, an individual who aspires to a higher moral code which benefits society, has a psychological impact on children, both appealing to their sense of fun as well as teach them important values.”
A woman known as Terrifica patrols the New York bar scene looking out for women who had too much to drink or may be in danger of male predators. According to the ABC TV report, “I protect the single girl living in the big city,” stated the now 35-year-old single woman clad in a blond Brunnhilde wig, golden mask and Valkyrie bra.
Actually, the web contains “tutorials” for heroes including first responder basics, self defense tips, legal considerations, and an article on “arrest proofing.” https://rlsh-manual.com/Resources.html and a social network, http://answerthecall.ning.com
Not all of the would-be heroes perform community service. Some have been the stars of fan-produced films, but others have gained semi-official endorsement from states, such as Breathe Easy Man who in Chicago educates citizens about reducing pollution and cleaning the air. And, Captain Clean (Maidstone, England) became a familiar face with the approval of council managers to clean up litter hot spots, passing out leaflets, and picking up abandoned vehicles, cleaning streets and hauling bulky refuse.
More and more real-life heroes use their costumes to take on social issues. For instance, Femme Fiscale and Golden Boy (from Manitoba, Canada) ventured to the legislature to advocate for the province’s most vulnerable citizens.
One a web site, the feisty Femme argued that “tax cuts are not free. I am concerned about how this will impact people who rely on government services.” When the budget contained no funds for low income housing, she lobbied the legislature on behalf of affordable low income housing.
You can check out some of the other national and international heroes at such sites as: http://www.superheroeslives.com/reallife/femme_fiscale_and_golden_boy_(2006).htm (for which we credit use of the photos); http://www.reallifesuperheroes.org/heroes.html; http://www.theblackghost.com/wallpapers.html (a New Orleans character known as the Black Ghost who inspires non-violent conflict resolution, which is © by I.C.E. Productions); http://www.skiffytownheroes.org/pics.htm (a national network of heroes who perform acts of community service or charity work, such as Dragonheart and Monkey Woman); http://www.herosyndicate.com/index.php?title=Main_Page (which shows active heroes, costume suppliers, and news stories)
EDITOR’S NOTE: Photos courtesy of individual “hero” or “heroine” unless otherwise stated.
Who are Huntington’s Hero Helpers?
My first choice for a “hero helpers” label happens to be a young woman who uses a camera and editing equipment to better the community. Francesca Karle decided to make a movie about the homeless living on the riverbank for a Girl Scout Project. “On the River’s Edge” contained stories of the lives of people living in a shack or tent. The film was premiered at the Keith Albee and attracted national attention. In addition, Ms. Karle produced “Back to the Bottle,” a 35-minute documentary on alcohol addiction. (http://www.huntingtonnews.net/local/080207-rutherford-localfilmfestivalbacktobottle.html )
We’d like you to nominate your own, but I’ll get the non-costumed party started by adding a couple more such as:
Anonymous Attorneys: You know who you are. You have devoted countless hours to “arming” those battered and bruised in the legal system with a weapon — you have helped teach “them” procedures, methods, and shown proper forms, headings and research methods for fighting for truth, justice and the American Way. The case may not have been financially worth litigating, but you transformed their frustrated bitterness into “pro se” jurisprudence.
Rev. Bob Bondurant: With his able “sidekick”/wife, Beth, Bob has prowled the halls of Marshall University, the Campus Christian Center, beach locations, and football fields dispensing the love of God. That meant loaning students a few dollars for their date, holding a hand during illness, stressing the similarities of various denominations and religions to encourage diversity (not condemnation) , and holding a mini-service for in-town PROWLers during non-university in session periods.
Now, it’s your turn. We’d like to run a continuing series of profiles of individuals worthy of a helper or hero title, be they “on the job” or “freelancing.”
Send your two paragraph nomination (with your e-mail address) to: [email protected] For that matter, check out our forum and start a sub –head posting.
http://www.huntingtonnews.net/local/090605-rutherford-localreallifehero.html

Amid hard times, an influx in real superheroes

(CNN) — Mr. Ravenblade, Mr. Xtreme, Dark Guardian and hundreds of others. Some with elaborate costumes, others with haphazardly stitched outfits, they are appearing on city streets worldwide watching over the populace like Superman watched over Metropolis and Batman over Gotham City.
As people become disillusioned from financial woes and a downtrodden economy and look to put new purpose in their lives, everyday folks are taking on new personas to perform community service, help the homeless and even fight crime.
“The movement is growing,” said Ben Goldman, a real-life superhero historian. Goldman, along with Chaim “Life” Lazaros and David “Civitron” Civitarese, runs the New York-based Web site Superheroes Anonymous as part of an initiative dedicated to organizing and making alliances with superhero groups.
According to Goldman, who goes by the moniker Cameraman because of his prowess in documenting the movement, economic troubles are spawning real life superheroes.
“A lot of them have gone through a sort of existential crisis and have had to discover who they are,” Goldman said. People are starting to put value in what they can do rather than what they have, he said. “They realize that money is fleeting, it’s in fact imaginary.”
Estimates from the few groups that keep tabs put the worldwide total of real-life superheroes between 250 and 300. Goldman said the numbers were around 200 just last summer.
Mr. Ravenblade, laid off after a stint with a huge computer technology corporation, found inspiration for his new avocation a few years ago from an early morning incident in Walla Walla, Washington.
“I literally stepped into a woman’s attempted rape/mugging,” Mr. Ravenblade said. While details were lost in the fog of the fight, he remembers this much: “I did what I could,” he said, adding that he stopped the crime and broke no laws. “And I realized after doing what I did, that people don’t really look after people.”
Public response to real-life superheroes has been mixed, according to Mr. Xtreme, who founded the Xtreme Justice League in San Diego, California.
“Sometimes it’s been really positive with people saying, ‘Woohoo, the superheroes are here,’ and then the usual barrage, saying ‘Oh, these guys are losers.’ Other times people will look kind of freaked out, and then sometimes people just don’t know what to think about us.”
Like Peter Parker kept his Spider-Man identity from his editor boss, Mr. Extreme and Mr. Ravenblade have asked CNN editors to keep their identities secret.
The current superhero movement started a few years ago on MySpace, as people interested in comics and cool caped crusaders joined forces, Goldman said. It goes beyond the Guardian Angel citizen patrols of the early 1980s, as the real-life superheroes of today apply themselves to a broadly defined ethos of simply doing good works. Video Watch Crimson Fist help the homeless in Atlanta »
Chris Pollak, 24, of Brooklyn, New York, can attest to the appeal. “A lot more people are either following it or wanting to go out and do it,” Pollack, who goes by the name Dark Guardian, said. By “do it,” he means patrol the harrowing streets late at night.
“A lot of kids say they’re real-life superheroes [on MySpace],” Mr. Ravenblade said. “But what are you doing? Being in front of a computer is not helping anybody.”
Comic book legend Stan Lee, the brain behind heroes such as Spider-Man and the X-Men, said in his comic books doing good — and availing one’s self — was indeed the calling card for superheroes.
“If somebody is committing a crime, if somebody is hurting some innocent person, that’s when the superhero has to take over.” Photo See a photo gallery of some real-life superheroes »
“I think it’s a good thing that people are eager enough to want to help their community. They think to do it is to emulate the superheroes,” Lee said. “Now if they had said they had super powers [that would be another thing].”
Without super powers, real life superheroes confess to a mere-mortal workload, including helping the homeless, handing out fliers in high-crime areas and patrolling areas known for drug-dealing.
Mr. Ravenblade said he and some of his superfriends would soon be trying to organize a Walk for Babies fundraiser in Portland, Oregon.
“We work with charities that help children,” he said. “We think a lot of crimes happen because of people who didn’t get a lot of love when they were younger. We do what we can to help that there.”
“Homeless outreach is the main thing I like to do,” said Chaim “Life” Lazaros, of Superheroes Anonymous. “We give out food, water, vitamins, toothbrushes. A lot of homeless people in my area know me, and they tell us about what they need. One homeless guy said ‘I need a couple pair of clean underwear.'”
For Christmas, Lazaros said his group raised $700 in gifts and brought them to kids at St. Mary’s Children’s Hospital in New York. “They were so excited to see real-life superheroes,” Lazaros said. iReport.com: Searching for Cincinnati’s caped crusader
Many of the real-life superheroes even initiate citizen’s arrests, but what’s legal varies by state. And in North Carolina citizen’s arrests are illegal. Real-life superheroes who grab a suspected villain may find themselves under a specter of trouble.
“Not a good idea,” said Katy Parker, legal director for the ACLU of North Carolina. “Seeing as how there’s no citizen’s arrest statute [in the state], people who do this are running a serious risk of getting arrested for kidnapping, and being liable for false imprisonment.”
“Vigilantism is never a good thing,” said Bernard Gonzales, public information officer for the Chula Vista, California, Police Department. He’s had some interactions with real-life superheroes. “The very best thing a private citizen can do is be a good witness.”
Mr. Ravenblade said he’s just that.
“If you’re a real-life superhero you follow the law. If you catch somebody you can’t just tie them up and leave them for the cops, that’s for the comics. You have to wait for the cops and give them a statement,” Mr. Ravenblade said. iReport.com: Cincinnati superhero speaks
While citizens helping out in the community is encouraged, Gonzales said the costumes can go.
“Where these people are out in public, and there’s children around and everything, and these people are not revealing their identities, it’s not a safe thing.”
But the costumes go with the gig, right down to the do-it-yourself approach to good deeds, including, apparently, recycling.
“The costume I have is simple,” said Mr. Xtreme. “I made it myself. I had a graphic designer design it for me and just took it down to the swap meet and had somebody imprint it on for me.”
“The mask,” an old bullfighter’s piece, “I got from Tijuana.”

Where to find real-life superheroes

There is a growing diaspora of superheroes worldwide. Here are a few resources.
World Superhero Registry: A virtual who’s who of the larger real-life superhero community, including who’s active and who’s not.
Superheroes Anonymous: A New York-based initiative to organize and document the scattered real-life superhero diaspora.
ReallifeSuperheroes.org: A repository of all things supehero, to encourage and set up real-life superheroes in various communities
RLSH-manual.com: So, you want to be a real-life superhero? Need a uniform, you say? 

Where to find real-life superheroes

There is a growing diaspora of superheroes worldwide. Here are a few resources.
World Superhero Registry: A virtual who’s who of the larger real-life superhero community, including who’s active and who’s not.
Superheroes Anonymous: A New York-based initiative to organize and document the scattered real-life superhero diaspora.
ReallifeSuperheroes.org: A repository of all things supehero, to encourage and set up real-life superheroes in various communities
RLSH-manual.com: So, you want to be a real-life superhero? Need a uniform, you say?
http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/06/04/real.life.superheroes/