Tag black monday society

Originally posted:http://io9.com/?_escaped_fragment_=5798467/the-real%2Blife-superheroes-of-salt-lake-city-are-charming-andor-terrifying
Cyriaque Lamar — We’ve seen a few real-life superheroes in recent times, including Seattle’s Phoenix Jones and Tennessee’s The Viper. Now, an eclectic mix of suburban dads and ex-hoodlums known as the Black Monday Society are patrolling Salt Lake City’s crime-strewn thoroughfares.
Unlike most spandex-clad homegrown heroes, members of the Black Monday Society dress like Slipknot. Also, the group has antiheroes amongst its ranks, such as the former gang member Fool King and a man known only as “Assylum”:

The hero “Assylum,” who wears a black head mask with a grotesque painted on smile, says he came from a sorted [sic] past. He says he sought out drug users who owed money. “If you got so much in drugs and didn’t pay your money, I was the dude that showed up at 3 in the morning and beat you until you got the money,” he says.

My favorite though is Professor Midnight, whose superpower is total anonymity — nobody knows his real name! Despite carrying tasers and pepper spray, The Black Monday Society aren’t vigilantes. They mete out justice with well-timed phone calls to the cops, aid bags for homeless folks, and a Medico Della Peste.

Originally posted: http://www.fox13now.com/news/kstu-salt-lakes-super-heroes-patrol-the-city-looking-to-fight-crime-20110503,0,6573619.story
By Aaron Vaughn

With their identities concealed and with names like Asylum, Fool King and Professor Midnight, a Salt Lake superhero group says they seek to enact justice.
The Black Monday Society is a group of men whose influence comes straight from the movie screen and comic book page. They are self-proclaimed crime fighters and good samaritans who patrol the city streets at night.
“How many groups do you want to do since there is eight of us, do you want to break it up into threes?” shouts the leader of the group, who goes by the name of Insignis and sports a metal face plate and dreadlocks.
Insignis introduces his posse to FOX 13 as they gather outside the Salt Lake City Library.
“This is Omen, he is one of our soldiers,” Insignis says, then gestures to another large individual in a skull mask with stringy white hair. “Ghost is better than bringing a gun on patrol. He’s our wall, he’s the one who will pick you up, toss you about if you need it.”
They all are dressed starkly different than the spandex-wearing traditional superheroes. And they are not clean-cut “boy wonders” either.
The hero “Asylum,” who wears a black head mask with a grotesque painted on smile, says he came from a sorted past. He says he sought out drug users who owed money.
“If you got so much in drugs and didn’t pay your money, I was the dude that showed up at 3 in the morning and beat you until you got the money,” he says.
And “Fool King,” who wears a jester mask, says he was an ex-gang member. He says he is making up for it by giving back to the community as a super hero.
Two of the heroes are fathers and most have day jobs. While one, who goes by the name of Professor Midnight, is a complete mystery and whose identity is unknown.
The super heroes patrol outside bars, clubs, and places most try to avoid — like dark alleys– for fear of what’s back there. They are looking for trouble in order to stop it.
On a usual patrol they split into groups of two or three.
“We call the cops if there’s a fight,” one of them says. They say they dress up as a means of intimidation.
Salt Lake police say they don’t condone or condemn the group’s crime fighting efforts and they have not had any problems with them in the past. The public treats them with mixed reaction while they are on patrol. Some respect what they do, or at least the boldness of dressing up. While some say their actions may interfere with law enforcement.
Police say they would investigate the group’s action if they were to receive complaints.

Scanned copies by Entomo:

From Extra Magazine
By Claudia Ciammatteo
Bastano una tuta (o un paio di mutandoni), un mantello e una maschera per essere come Batman e l’Uomo Ragno o quasi.
Quelli “iscrittia all; Albo” sono circa 200. Difendono vecchiette, si battono peri lavoratori, fanno pronto soccorso e… spalano la neve.
La criminalita dilaga, la corruzione e alle stele, l’inquinamento cresce, lo spetro del terrorismo inernazionale aleggia in tutti gli aeroporti. Per salvarci ci vorrebbe Superman… E, infatti, c’e. Anzi, ce n’e piu di uno. Anche se puo sembrare incredibile, chi pens ache vegliare sul bene dell’umanita sia solo roba da bumetti sbaglia.
Al mondo esistono quasi 200 supereroi in carne e ossa, che inventandosi un nome altettanto suggestive di quello di batman o l’Uomo Ragno e indossando un costume all’altezza del compito, hammo deciso di combattere le ingiustizie o difendere I piu deboli. O almeno di provarci. Sono riuniti nel Real Life World Superhero Registry, ovvero, il primo Albo ufficiale dei supereroi della via reale, nato nel 2005.
Dai fumetti, al fatti. Il fenomeno ha almeno Quattro capostipiti. Tra questi, a Citta del Messico, Superbarrio Gomez e un’autentica celebrita: in aderente costume di lycra rosso, mutandoni e mantello Dorati sul fisico corpulento, il volto coperto da una maschera da wrestler “luchador”, si batte per I diritti dei lavoratori messicani ed e sempre in prima fila nei cortei di protesta. A New York, invece, e famosa gia da alcuni anni Terrifica, paladin della sicurezza femminile, che pattuglia locali e bar armata di spray irritante al peperoncino, cellular e macchina fotografica. Altrettanto célèbre, nonostante la sua identita sia segreta, Angle-Grinder Man (letteralmente: Uomo Smerigliatrice angolare), in tuta blu e stivali d’oro, che di note pattuglia le auto in divieto dis sosta dale ganasce messe dai vigili. Per non parlare di Captain Ozone, di  Belfast, supereroe ecologista in cappuccino e lungo mantello blu, stemma nero e che dopo le ultime battalglie a difesa dei salmo ni e del riciclaggio delle tavolette del water, figura ufficialmnte tra gli organizzatori del Green Poer Rally, mega dimostazione pacifica in difesa delle energie rinnovabili che avverra simultaneamente in Canada e negli Stati Uniti il 31 luglio prossimo.
C’e chi aiuta la polizia con segnalazioni anonime.
Da Scorpione verde a Zetaman. Scorrendo l’elenco del registro dei supereroi, una cosa e evidente: lo sparuto gruppo originario e andato moltiplicandosi. Sui nomi d’arte e sul tip di missione degli eroi (poco “super” ma molto “utile”) la fantasia nono manca: in Canada opera Polar Man (Uomo Polare), pronto a splare la neve per evitare rovinsoe cadute agli anziani; dale parti di Cincinnati Shadow Hare (Lepre ombra), che con la maschere near sul volto protégé i senzatetto; nell’Oregon c’e Zetaman (l’uomo Zeta), campione di primo soccorso.
A vegliare sui cittadini assediati dai malintenzionati, tra gli altri, ci sono poi Fox Fire (Volpe di fuoco), paladina femminile travestita con un cappotto di pelle near e una maschera di volpe; Dark Guardian (Guardiano Scuro), che porta una maschera veneziana sul naso, e anche il misterioso The Eye (l’Occhino). Ma ci sono ache Green Scorpion (Scorpione verde), che opera in New Mexico; Death’s Head Moth (Falena testa di morto) in Virginia e Mr Silent (Silenzioso), l’angelo delle notti dell’Illinois.
Piu recente e la nascita di gruppi di supereroi, come la “Black Monday Society” (Societa del lunedi mero) nello Utah, la Great Lakes Heroes Guild (la Gilda degli eroi dei Grandi laghi) mello sato del Wisconsin e, a New York, l’Heroes Network (rete gegli Eroi) fondata dall’amomino Thothian, che come superavversario ha scelto addirittura Osama Bin Laden.
Ma chi si nasconde dietro tute, maschere e mantelli? La stragrande maggiroanza dei supereroi in carne e ossa prospera olteroceano. <<Quello dei supereroi della vita reale>> dicono gli esperti intervistati dai network americani come Cbe e Cnn, <<e un fenomeno socilogico che si e sviluppato principalmente negli Stati Uniti, come reazione allo choc dell’11 settembre>>. Ed e stato raffrorzato dalla politica di cittadinanza attivca lanciata dal presidente Barack Obama.
Niente armi e molta rete. Per vigilare contro la possibilita di infiltrazione di violenti, incoscienti, o gustizeri “fai da te” tra le loro fila, il regolamento ufficiale dell’Albo mondiale dei supereroi stabilisce criteri rigidi di ingress (vedi riquadro in queste pagine) e limitazioni, pena la radiazione; no all’uso di armi vere, innanzitutto. Si invece ad armi e coltelli di plastic, e a tecniche di autodifesa. Del resto, anche se non fermano aerie con la mano ne vanno piu veocia della luce, questi emuli di Superman qualche rischo lo corrono ugualmente. Per scambiarsi dritte e consigli, e dare appuntamento ai propri fan a caccia di aggiornamenti sulle imprese del giustiziere perferito, molti di loro utilizzano il social netork MySpace.
La crescent prpolarita di alcuni di loro, che privia di superpoteri hanno necessariamente ambizioni piu limitate di quelle dei supereroi dei fumetti, suscita pero qualche perplessita. <<Ma e un errore>> fa notare lo scrittore Giampelmo Schiaragola, autore di due scherzosi vademecum per aspirant supereroi, <<il primo compito di un eroe non e tanto quello di sconfiggere il male; quanto di dare il buon esempio, ovvero di creare altri eroi>>.
Mentre qualcuno songna perfino di sconfiggere Bin Laden
E a Napoli, Entomo combatte criminalita e inquinamento. Fra le sue mission: dare una mano nell’emergenza rifiuti
L’uomo-insetto partenopeo. E in Italia? L’uncio supereroe di casa nostra ammesso nell’anagrafe ufficiale, e Entomo: l’Uomo insetto che vegla sulla citta di Napoli. Il suo motto: “Ascolta il mio ronzio, temi il mio morso: inietto giustizia”. Ha 32 anni, e attivo dal 2007, e la sua identita e segreta. Ha un costume da insetto verde chiaro, con maniche scure, sul petto il simbolo stilizzato della lettera greca “sigma” e combatte criminalita e inquinamento grazie (a suo dire) alle sue tre armi: I sensi sviluppati come quelli degli insetti, le techiche di autodifesa e le segnalazioni anonime alla polizia.
<<Pattuglio le strade della citta, di giorno e di note, fermo I piccolo crimini come posso>> ha recentemete dichiarato in un’intervista al quotidano Il Reformista. Entomo sostiene che il suo costume giochi da diversivo, sorprendendo e distraendo I malintenzionati; usa una tecnica di autodifesa chiamata Krav Maga per disarmare I nemici, e li intimidisce senza ferifli. Tra li piu recent missioni, l’emergenza rifiuti a Napoli: <<Ho fermato alcuni tentative di teppismo ai Danni delle persone, delle strutture e dell’ambiente>>. Un modus operandi illegal, almeno I Italia, dove per legge (n.152 del 1975) e vitato comparire mascherati in luogo pubblico. <<Ma io non sono un esaltato, non mi oppongo o contrappongo alla polizia, ne mi sostitusisco a essa>> obiettta Entomo. <<Anzi, li auto a distanza con le mie segnalazioni anonime>>. E a chi aspira a emularne le imprese, consiglia: <<Trova il Supereroe nascoasto dentro di te. Quindi Materializzalo come una seconda pelle e sii quello che sei gia veramente. Fine della storia>>.
Boutique per Super
Eora che cosa mi metto?. Il dubbio puo venire anche ai supereroi. Per questo, a New York, e nata la prima boutique dedicate ai paladini dell’umanita, dove si possono acquistare costume personalizzati, maschere, quanti, armi e alteri accessori: si chimama Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co., e ha anche um goliardico catalogo online. Quache idea? Un mantello classic da supereroe, o da auito-supereroe, in seta a glitterato (cioe pieno di lustrini). Ha un prezzo oscillante tra 1 22 e 1 35 dollari. Mai pui senza. Ma si puo trovare anche la pistol a particelle ($25), il vaporizzatore sonico ($30), il campo di forza in mylar ($12), un’arma “a protoni” ($20), il dispositivo per leggere nel pensiero  ($99.50) o una pinna meccanico ($39). I piu creative possono anche acquistare il fluido per la clonazione ($9) e il cuore cibernetico ($16.25).
Vuoi essere un supereroe? Ecco I criteri per l’ammissone.
Chi non ha mai fantasticato di combattere il crimine e debellare spaventosi nemici? Non e facile come sembra: per essere accettati nel Registro mondiale die supereroi (www.worldsuperheroregistry.com), e godere del privilegio di una scheda personale, con il proprio nome, area d’azione, abilita speciali, bisogna obbedire a tre regole indergabili.
I precetti degli eroi. Primo: non valgono ne autocandidature ne raccomandazioni. Per iscriversi bisogna essere contattati direttamente dal Registro mondiale, in seguito a una comprovata (attraverso ritagli di giornale o testimonianze dirette di rappresntanti legali) attivita di supereroe. Secondo: l’unica motivazione personale ammessa e la disinteressata vocazione al bene dell’umanita (quindi un candidate non pruo rievere incentive economici di alcun tipo, ne essere stipendiato per la sua attivita o rappresentare associazioni esterne, anche sense scopo di lucro). Terzo: il costume da supereroe non serve a proteggere solo l’anonimato ma e “simbolo indossabile” dei valori a difesa dell’umanita; sono dunque vietati I costume volgari e inappropriate.
Translation to English via Google
With just a suit (or a pair of knickers), a cape and a mask to be like Batman and Man Spider or so.
Those “all members; Roll” is about 200. Defend old women, are fighting dangerous workers, are first aid and … shovel snow.
Rampant crime, corruption and stele, pollution grows, get free of terrorism inernazionale hovering at all airports. It would take Superman to save us … And in fact there. Indeed, there are more than one. Although it may seem incredible ache watch over those who think mankind is just good stuff bumetti wrong.
Worldwide, there are nearly 200 heroes in the flesh, who invented a name altettanto suggestive of that of Batman and Spider or the man wearing a costume to the task, Hamm decided to fight injustice and defend the weak. Or at least try. Met in Real Life World Superhero Registry, ie, the first official list of superheroes by real, born in 2005.
From Comics to facts. The phenomenon has at least four founders. Among them, Mexico City, Superbarrio Gomez and genuine celebrity in tight red lycra dress, knickers and coat the Golden physical portly, his face covered by a mask wrestler “luchador”, fighting for workers’ rights Mexican and always at the forefront of protest marches. In New York, however, already famous and terrifying for some years, champion of women’s security, patrolling and local bar armed with irritating pepper spray, cell phone and camera.
Equally impressive, although his identity is secret, Angle-Grinder Man (literally: Angle Grinder Man), in blue overalls and boots with gold, notes that the patrol car in parking ban dis dale shoes made by the brigade. Not to mention Captain Ozone, Belfast, superhero ecologist in cappuccino and long blue coat, black coat and that after the last psalm ni battalglie in defense of the tablets and recycling of water, figure among the organizers of Green ufficialmnte Poer Rally Mega peaceful defense can show that renewable energy will take place simultaneously in Canada and the United States on July 31 next.
There are those who help the police with anonymous reporting.
From Scorpion green Zetaman. Go down to the register of superhero, one thing is clear: the tiny original group and went multiplying. Names of art and the tip of the heroes of mission (just “super” but very “useful”) lack the imagination ninth in Canada by Polar Man (Man Polar), ready to splare rovinsoe to avoid the snow falls for the elderly; Dale shares of Cincinnati Shadow Hare (Hare shadow), that with the masks on the face near the protégé homeless in Oregon there Zetaman (man Zeta), Standard First Aid.
To ensure the citizens besieged by the bad guys, among others, are then Fox Fire (Fire Fox), a champion female transvestite leather coat and a mask near fox Dark Guardian (Dark Guardian), who wears a Venetian mask nose, and even the mysterious The Eye (the Occhini). But there are ache Green Scorpion (Scorpio green), which operates in New Mexico, Death’s Head Moth (Moth skull) in Virginia, and Mr. Silent (Silent), the angel of nights Illinois.
More recently the emergence of groups of superheroes such as “Black Monday Society (Society of mere Monday) in Utah, the Great Lakes Heroes Guild (the guild of heroes of the Great Lakes) mello Sato of Wisconsin and in New York the Heroes Network (network GEGL Heroes) based dall’amomino Thothian, which chose as superavversario even Osama Bin Laden.
But who is behind suits, masks and capes? The vast maggiroanza superhero in the flesh olteroceano prosperous. << say experts interviewed by American networks like CNN and Cbe, >>. And it was the policy of citizenship raffrorzato attivca launched by President Barack Obama.
No weapons and plenty of networking. To guard against the possibility of infiltration of violent, reckless, or gustizeri DIY “among their ranks, the official rules of the Dawn World of superheroes down strict criteria for entry (see box on this page) and limits the penalty radiation, no use of real weapons, first. It instead weapons and plastic knives, and self-defense techniques. Moreover, even if they do not stop with the hand aerie veocia leave most of the light, these rivals Superman’s some risk it running anyway. To exchange tips and advice, and to meet their fans hunting for updates on the executioner peripherals companies, many of them use social netork MySpace.
The growing prpolarita some of them, without necessarily having superpowers ambitions more limited than those of superhero comics, but raises doubts. <<Giampelmo Schiaragola noted writer, author of two humorous handbook for aspiring superheroes, >>.
While some songna even to defeat bin Laden
And in Naples, Entomo fight crime and pollution. Among his mission: to help in emergency waste
The man-insect Naples. And in Italy? The uncia superhero home nell’anagrafe official admitted, and Entomo: Man insect that watches over the city of Naples. His motto: “Hear my buzz, my bite themes: inject justice.” He has 32 years, and active since 2007, and his identity and secret. It has a pale green insect costume, with dark sleeves, chest stylized symbol of the Greek letter “sigma” and fights crime and pollution through (he said) its three arms: The meaning developed as those of insects, of Techichi self-defense and anonymous reporting to the police.
<< recentemete he said in an interview with the newspaper The Reforma. Entomo argues that his custom games as a diversion, surprising and distracting the attackers, using a technique called Krav Maga self-defense to disarm enemies, and intimidate without ferifli. Among them the most recent mission, the garbage emergency in Naples: >>. A modus operandi illegal, at least Italy, where by law (n. 152 of 1975) and vines appear masked in public places. << obiettta Entomo. << And to those who aspire to emulate companies, advises: >>.
Super Boutique
Eora what I wear?. The question can also be superheroes. For this reason, New York, and founded the first boutique dedicated to the heroes of humanity, where you can buy custom costume, masks, those who alter weapons and accessories: you chimama Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co., and also um undergraduate catalog online . Quache idea? A classic superhero cape, superhero-or I help, Silk Glitter (ie full of glitter). Has a price ranging from $ 35 a 22:01. Never without pui. But you can also find the gun particles ($ 25), the vaporizer sonic ($ 30), the force field Mylar ($ 12), a weapon “proton” ($ 20), the device to read minds ($ 99.50) or a mechanical fin ($ 39). The more creative can also buy the fluid for cloning ($ 9) and heart cybernetic ($ 16.25).
Want to be a superhero? Here are the criteria for ammissone.
Who has not fantasized about fighting crime and eradicating frightening enemies? Not easy as it seems to be accepted in the superhero day Global Registry (www.worldsuperheroregistry.com), and enjoy the privilege of a personal card with your name, area of action, special skills, we must obey three rules indergabili.
The precepts of the heroes. First, they are not worth candidate, nor recommendations. To enroll you must be contacted directly from the Global Registry, following a proven (through newspaper clippings and eyewitness accounts of rappresntanti legal) activities of superhero. Secondly, the only permissible motivation and selfless vocation for the good of humanity (thus not a candidate pruo rievere economic incentives of any kind, be they salaried for his activities or associations representing the external sense even for profit). Thirdly, the superhero costume is not only to protect the anonymity but “symbol wearable values in defense of humanity, are therefore prohibited the suit vulgar and inappropriate.

Originally 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.

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.)

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
English 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

Originally posted: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2865968/real_life_super_heroes_everywhere.html?cat=7
Kick Ass – Not Just a Movie
By Carol Rucker
Sometimes life imitates art and sometimes it’s the other way around, just like in Kick Ass, an upcoming movie that’s based on a Marvel comic book but also reflects a national Super Hero trend. If you know the story or

 have seen the movie trailers, you already know it’s a tale about a youthful team of unlikely crime fighting citizens.
These heroes can’t fly like Superman nor can they scale tall buildings like Spiderman. The heroes in Kick Ass have no super powers at all, nor any of the traditional caped crusader traits going for them…… but they can “kick….” Well you know. That’s where the movie title comes from.
More Than Just A Screenplay
The movie is based on a comic book drama that plays to the hearts of regular guys, those every day men and women who decide they’ve had enough with crime in the streets. When the regular guys and gals in Kick Ass decide to take it beyond mere talk, they take to the city streets fully adorned in super hero garb. They challenge bad guys and fight crime, a great idea for a comic book or a movie, right?
Except it’s more than just a screenplay. Kick Ass is art imitating life. In case you haven’t noticed, real life super heroes are everywhere, not just the stranger who fixes your flat tire or the volunteer who delivers food to seniors. Those people are everyday heroes indeed; but there are also genuine costumed and caped heroes in many cities; and you don’t have to go to the movies to see them.
Cincinnati’s Super Heroes
“Some scoff at me, others take me seriously,” Shadow Hare said in a 2009 interview. Despite what people have to say, Cincinnati, Ohio’s super hero has been fighting crime on the streets for nearly 5 years. If your timing is right, you might find Shadow Hare at his headquarters, The Ionosphere. (the Cincinnati Segway Dealership at Central Parkway and Vine) But you are more likely to see him gliding along the Downtown city streets on a Segway with his lady companion, Silver Moon, nearby. Together they seek out crime and do what they can to stop it.
Super Heroes Everywhere
You can find details about Shadow Hare on his MySpace page and on The World Super Hero Registry. There you will also find profiles on many more of the nation’s true life knights in shining armor. Here are just a few.
Utah – Like most super heroes, Insignis wishes to keep his identity a secret. Masked and costumed in black and white, Insignis patrols the streets of Salt Lake City. There he fights

 crime and does good deeds with help from the The Black Monday Society.
Arizona – Wearing black from head to toe, topped off with a gold cape, Citizen Prime patrols Arizona streets. He not only fights crime, but also strives to promote good citizenship in his home state.
Florida – Dressed in black from head to toe, Amazonia does double duty, working the streets in both Ocala, Florida and Lowell Massachusetts. As a founding member of the organization, Vixens of Valor, she is sworn to protect the innocent.
Michigan – You will recognize The Queen Of Hearts by her black tights and the big heart adorning her chest. She does volunteer work, assists local charities and patrols the streets of Jackson, Michigan with her cohorts, Captain Jackson and Crimefighter Girl. She also teaches Jackson, Michigan youth how to recognize and prevent domestic violence.
The movie, Kickass is coming out soon; and if you decide to see it, remember, it’s more than just a movie. It’s real life.
Source: Shadow Hare/Silver Moon Interview June 5, 2009
http://www.worldsuperheroregistry.com/world_superhero_registry_gallery.htm
More resources

• http://www.associatedcontent.com/video/355205/superheroes_in_the_city_shadow_hare.html?cat=2
• http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1820895/shadow_hare_silver_moon_cincinnatis.html?
• http://www.associatedcontent.com/video/355207/superheroes_in_the_city_part_2_shadow.html?cat=2

Entomo has been crime-fighting in Naples since 2003. (Transcript of a phone conversation with a FRANCE 24 journalist).

Entomo

• Italy
• Real Life Superhero

Originally Posted: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1348774/costumes_and_capes_real_life_superheroes_pg2.html?cat=9
By Erin Thursby
Human evolution has finally taken a turn toward spandex. Superheroes aren’t just in movies; there are actually 200 registered real life superheroes on the World Superhero Registry.
You might think that this surge in superheroism might have something to do with all the movies that are out. It does, but there was also a surge soon after 9/11.
Do you have what it takes to be a registered superhero? Here are the rules according to http://www.worldsuperheroregistry.com
Costume: The purpose of a costume is not simply to protect the identity of the Real-Life Superhero from criminals that might seek revenge, but to make a statement both to the evil-doers that you fight against and to the world at large: you are not simply someone who happened upon crime or injustice and made an impulsive decision to intervene. You have vowed to actively fight for the betterment of humankind and to serve as an example for others. The costume of a Real-Life Superhero must be of sufficient quality to show some care went into its creation.
Heroic Deeds: The purpose behind becoming a Real-Life Superhero must be for the benefit of mankind, and the Heroic Deeds must be of sufficient degree as to exceed normal everyday behavior. If proof of Heroic Deeds is not present, a listing may still be added to the Registry, however, it may be marked as “inactive” or “unconfirmed” in the description.
Personal Motivation: A Real-Life Superhero cannot be a paid representative of an organization, not even a benevolent one. The motivation to become a Real-Life Superhero must come from the individual: not an advertising gimmick or a public relations campaign.
Carrying guns, knives or other weaponry is also frowned upon because it means that members can be arrested for vigilantism.
The most active superhero group is in Salt Lake City. They’re known as the Black Monday Society. They’re not four color heroes. Instead they look more scary than heroic. This group patrols the city streets.
“We’re not out running around fighting bad guys like in comic books. We’re out there to be a symbol for the people for the community to show that if you don’t like what your community is, you can change it,” said Ghost of Black Monday, during an interview with the local FOX station.
Instead they help drunk folk and escort them to the bus station, and scare young thugs away when they’re doing something wrong.
“Just like a neighborhood watch, only we have fun with it,” they said.
Check out the superhero registry to see if you’ve got a hero in your town. Mainly they work as symbols of hope rather than actual crime-fighters, and some of them are just registering for fun.
So it seems that real life superheroes aren’t busting up drug rings and going all Batman on the mob. It’s a little disappointing, but realistic.
I have visions of the future though. If this trend spreads, then maybe, just maybe, we’ll get a superhero that lives up to the comic books.

John Harlow in Los Angeles
For Mr Invisible, the first and last blow to his burgeoning career as a superhero was an unexpected punch that flattened his nose.
“After months of designing my costume, getting my street moves just right, it was my first week out as a Real Life Superhero – and probably my last. This tiny, tiny girl did not like me trying to calm down her screaming boyfriend. She blindsided me, I’m still bruised. It’s dangerous out there,” said the deflated would-be crime fighter last week.
Mr Invisible is cheered that at least his grey one-piece “invisibility suit” works, proven when a drunk urinated on him in an alley. But he is weary of lurking in dark, down-town Los Angeles after dark.
The 29-year-old graduate is “refocusing” on his day job as an insurance salesman. His farewell appearance will be at a New Year’s Eve party.
Mr Invisible may be living up to his name but his spray-painted “supershoes” will quickly be filled by another Real Life Superhero eager to save America from itself. There are, according to the recently launched World Superhero Registry, more than 200 men and a few women who are willing to dress up as comic book heroes and patrol the urban streets in search of, if not super-villains, then pickpockets and bullies.
They may look wacky, but the superhero community was born in the embers of the 9/11 terrorist attacks when ordinary people wanted to do something short of enlisting. They were boosted by a glut of Hollywood superhero movies.
In recent weeks, prompted by heady buzz words such as “active citizenry” during the Barack Obama campaign, the pace of enrolment has speeded up. Up to 20 new “Reals”, as they call themselves, have materialised in the past month.
The Real rules are simple. They must stand for unambiguous and unsponsored good. They must create their own Spandex and rubber costumes without infringing Marvel or DC Comics copyrights, but match them with exotic names – Green Scorpion in Arizona, Terrifica in New York, Mr Xtreme in San Diego and Mr Silent in Indianapolis.
They must shun guns or knives to avoid being arrested as vigilantes, even if their nemeses may be armed. Their best weapon is not muscle but the internet – an essential tool in their war on crime is a homepage stating the message of doom for super-villains.
This is more than bravado, say veterans. It may help as evidence after a Real has been arrested or even committed to a mental health hospital for evaluation. That happened to Mr Invisible’s equally short-lived predecessor, Black Owl, who last summer had to be sprung from a psychiatric ward by his teenage daughter who told doctors: “Dad forgot for a moment, when faced with police, just for a moment, that he did not have real superpowers. He could not just fly away.”
“This is a more serious business than it looks,” said Citizen Prime, whose $4,000 (£2,700) costume disguises an Arizona businessman and father of a toddler who thinks his cape, mask and stun-gun are cool.
Prime patrols some of the most dangerous streets in Phoenix but, like most Reals, is reluctant to speak about the villains he has dispatched with a blow from his martial arts-honed forearm. He does admit helping a motorist change a flat tyre.
“Kids love the costume, so I seek to keep them out of the gangs today rather than take them on tomorrow,” said Prime who, at 41, regards himself as on the mature wing of the Real community.
He is worried about lunatics and hotheads. He says he would never act like the Black Monday Society in Salt Lake City who interrupt drug deals in public parks and face off against armed thugs.
Utah police officers say they appreciate Ghost, a 33-year-old concrete worker, and his colourfully costumed cohorts Insignis, Oni, Ha! and Silver Dragon. But other police departments recall that America’s most feared gangs, the Crips and the Bloods, were also born as idealistic “community defenders”.
It can be dangerous. Master Legend of Florida, who arms himself with a pepper-spraying cannon powered by cans of antiperspirant, was attacked by a man with a hammer.
There is a high burn-out rate. Terrifica, a 5ft 9in redcaped superheroine, who would manhandle drunken girls away from heavy-handed dates in nocturnal New York, spoke about how she despised her “weak, needy and dumped” alter-ego Sarah.
Artemis of San Diego reported on his blog that he had heard a woman screaming outside his home but by the time he had dressed up in his costume the police were already there. Kevlex, 47, who runs the Superhero Registry, says he patrols more in winter than summer in Arizona, when his Kevlar and Spandex kit itches. But the deadliest kryptonite against a superhero is boredom.
“I was out every night, 8pm until 2am, hanging about all the bad corners and nothing happened, nada, zip,” recalled Mr Invisible. “It was raining: even the drug dealers were at home. And often cops are just too good at their jobs.”
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/us_and_americas/article5404186.ece

JOSHUA BEARMAN
Everyone has the opportunity to awaken and become who they always wanted to be.
—Green Scorpion
Master Legend races out the door of his secret hide-out, fires up the Battle Truck and summons his trusty sidekick. “Come on, Ace!” he yells. “Time to head into the shadows!”
The Ace appears wearing his flame-accented mask and leather vest; Master Legend is costumed in his signature silver and black regalia. “This is puncture-resistant rubber,” Master Legend says proudly, pointing at his homemade breastplate. His arms are covered with soccer shinguards that have been painted silver to match his mask. “It won’t stop a bullet,” he says, “but it will deflect knives.”
“Not that any villain’s knives have ever gotten that close!” the Ace chimes in.
When Master Legend bursts into a sprint, as he often does, his long, unruly hair flows behind him. His mane is also in motion when he’s behind the wheel of the Battle Truck, a 1986 Nissan pickup with a missing rear window and “ML” spray-painted on the hood. He and the Ace head off to patrol their neighborhood on the outskirts of Orlando, scanning the street for evildoers. “I don’t go looking for trouble,” Master Legend shouts above the engine. “But if you want some, you’ll get it!”
Then he hands me his business card, which says:
Master Legend
Real Life Super Hero
“At Your Service”
Like other real life super-heroes, Master Legend is not an orphan from a distant dying sun or the mutated product of a gamma-ray experiment gone awry. He is not an eccentric billionaire moonlighting as a crime fighter. He is, as he puts it, “just a man hellbent on battling evil.” Although Master Legend was one of the first to call himself a Real Life Superhero, in recent years a growing network of similarly homespun caped crusaders has emerged across the country. Some were inspired by 9/11. If malevolent individuals can threaten the world, the argument goes, why can’t other individuals step up to save it? “What is Osama bin Laden if not a supervillain, off in his cave, scheming to destroy us?” asks Green Scorpion, a masked avenger in Arizona. True to comic-book tradition, each superhero has his own aesthetic. Green Scorpion’s name is derived from his desert home, from which he recently issued a proclamation to “the criminals of Arizona and beyond,” warning that to continue illegal activities is to risk the “Sting of the Green Scorpion!” The Eye takes his cue from the primordial era of Detective Comics, prowling Mountain View, California, in a trench coat, goggles and a black fedora featuring a self-designed logo: the “all-seeing” Eye of Horus. Superhero — his full name — is a former wrestler from Clearwater, Florida, who wears red and blue spandex and a burgundy helicopter helmet, and drives a 1975 Corvette Stingray customized with license plates that read SUPRHRO.
Most Real Life Superheroes are listed on the World Superhero Registry, a recently assembled online roster. (“I can’t say if I will ever fight an army of giant robots or a criminal mastermind,” an Indianapolis superhero called Mr. Silent notes in his entry. “I just don’t know.”) Some superheroes have joined forces in local crime-fighting syndicates: the Black Monday Society in Salt Lake City, the Artemis National Consortium in San Diego and the tautologically titled Justice Society of Justice in Indianapolis. Attempting to unite all the superheroes under one banner are groups like the World Heroes Organization and Heroes Network, which hosts an online forum where more than 200 crime fighters trade tactics (should I wear a mask?), patrolling tips (how do I identify a street gang?) and advice/feedback (can you get bulletproof vests on eBay?).
The Justice Force is Master Legend’s own crime-fighting syndicate, a rotating cast of ad hoc superheroes that seems to include everyone he knows. There’s the Disabler, Genius Jim, the Black Panther and a duo named Fire and Brimstone. At his right hand is the Ace, so named because he always needs “an ace up my sleeve!” The Ace lives with Master Legend at the team’s secret hide-out, a dilapidated clapboard house in a seedy neighborhood outside Orlando. In the back is Master Legend’s workshop, a converted garage where he develops various weapons, like the Master Blaster: a six-foot-long silver cannon fueled by cans of Right Guard that can shoot “a variety of projectiles,” including stun pellets made from plastic Easter eggs filled with cayenne pepper and rock salt. As the superheroes see it, the fact that they can’t project energy bolts or summon force fields only adds to the purity of their commitment. Their heroism, in a sense, derives from their lack of powers. What they have instead is the power to craft themselves anew. “This whole movement is more than just fat guys in spandex,” insists Superhero, himself a brawny guy in head-to-toe spandex.
Once you take on a secret identity, there’s the problem of maintaining it. Many Real Life Superheroes shun press. Some are difficult to reach even by phone. Others allow interviews, but will meet only in costume and in public. The first time I meet Master Legend face-to-mask, for example, it is carefully choreographed by him to occur on the neutral turf of a restaurant in downtown Orlando. “I can’t show you my face,” he says as we meet in front of Gino’s Pizza and Brew, which he has designated as a safe zone. “And there are only a couple places that will let me in with my uniform and mask on. But here they know all about me!”
Why all the secrecy? Compromised methods, safety of loved ones — the “usual issues,” according to Master Legend, that are confronted by superheroes. Don’t forget, he warns, that the public can be ambivalent toward masked avengers. Consider lovable Spider-Man, constantly facing exposure by his own boss, the irascible J. Jonah Jameson. Real Life Superheroes were alarmed by the sad case of Captain Jackson, a “police-sanctioned” hero in Jackson, Michigan — until his DUI arrest and the resulting Jackson Citizen Patriot headline: “Crime Fighter Busted for Drunken Driving.” The article went on to unmask Jackson and his sidekicks, the Queen of Hearts and CrimeFighter Girl. Superheroes nationwide were aghast that a town would turn on its heroes like that, and the incident drove skittish superheroes deeper underground. “You can see why I have to be careful,” says Master Legend.
Behind the counter, the cashier giggles as Master Legend orders a beer. “Master Legend thanks you,” he says, reaching out a gauntleted hand for the beer. When we go upstairs to the small dining room, the young couple at a nearby table stop eating and eye us nervously. Master Legend gestures wildly as he shows me the scar from the time he was shot while saving an old lady being mugged. “They got me here,” he says. “But it was small-caliber. Not enough to take down a superhero!” This is how Master Legend recounts his life, always punctuated with exclamation points, as if every moment is a high-stakes ordeal that ends with some deserving offender getting an “all-night tour of Fist City!” or the business end of his “trusty ol’ Steel Toes!”
If there existed a Master Legend Issue 1, it would flash back 26 years to his origin story in New Orleans, where the teenage hero’s identity was forged in poverty and abuse. “My momma and daddy were not good people,” he says. “Through them, I saw how cruel the world can be.” At age 15, Master Legend began looking after his grandma, a caring Creole woman from the bayou who showed him “the goodness of things.” When Master Legend found some comics in a neighbor’s trash, they became his blueprint. As early as third grade, he used a T-shirt, a magic marker and some old shoelaces to fashion a rudimentary costume, which he donned while protecting classmates from the school bully. He also found a mentor named Master Ray, from whom he learned “kindness and kung fu.”
Master Legend was 16 when fate whispered in his ear. One day he was playing guitar in Jackson Square — “just jamming, you know, picking up some change” — when a purse snatcher appeared. Master Legend instinctively tore after him through the alleys of the French Quarter, where he retrieved the purse. Later that night, he was recognized by the criminal and fought him off again. “That’s when I knew I had to wear a mask,” he says. Being in New Orleans made it easier: “I would dress up in a costume and walk the streets, and no one would notice. I fit right in.” The next day, Master Legend’s grandma ran across a story on the news: “Masked Man Saves Woman.” “The Legend,” he says, “was born.”
At Gino’s, after a few more beers, Master Legend announces that he must attend to some business back at the secret hide-out. After paying, we cross the street. It is early evening. The sun has dipped below Florida’s afternoon cloud cover, and Master Legend’s silver uniform reflects the warm glow of the horizon. He turns and strikes an inadvertently dramatic pose. A passing taxi stops, and the driver cranes his neck to see the spectacle of Master Legend shining at sunset. Then the driver leans out of the window and yells, “Master Legend! How you doing? Say hello to the Ace!”
The next day, I persuade Master Legend to let me visit his secret hide-out. He gives me directions. Or rather, he gives me directions to a nearby liquor store, and in one last step of cloak-and-dagger maneuvering, he pilots me the final few blocks in the Battle Truck, its rear window destroyed during an attack by a hammer-wielding enemy.
When we arrive, the Ace walks out to greet us. Compared to the Fortress of Solitude with its alien zoo or the Batcave’s techno-enhanced crime lab, theirs is a modestly appointed superheadquarters. The pleasant tropical afternoon can’t quite conceal the state of the neighborhood, with its crumbling houses on the verge of being reclaimed by swampland. Inside the hide-out, a TV is propped up in the corner on cinder blocks. Master Legend’s mattress is on the floor. The wall is bare other than a Halloween decoration of a skull. Against one wall is a folding card table covered with a pile of papers and some ninja stars. I pick one up, inciting a gleeful demonstration. “Just a snap of the wrist!” Master Legend says, sending one flying straight into the far wall. “Catch this!” yells the Ace, joining in. “Takedown!” Master Legend says with a clap when I land one successfully. Eventually, Master Legend announces that “ninja time is over,” but not before he freestyles a final behind-the-back throw, nailing the skull on the wall right between the eyes.
Most Real Life Superheroes compensate for their lack of Adamantium skeletons or solar-fueled extraterrestrial strength by claiming extensive martial-arts abilities. Master Legend’s own personal fighting style is called “The Way of the Diamond Spirit,” which he says represents “an evolution of hand-to-hand combat.” As if to demonstrate, he sends a few jabs into the air. “One place you don’t want to be,” he says, tightening his gloved hand into a clenched fist, “is on the receiving end of the No Mercy Punch!”
The No Mercy Punch makes many appearances in the annals of Justice Force history. There was the time Master Legend and the Ace shut down a crack den; the drug kingpin they put out of business; the money Master Legend forcibly retrieved from a thief who stole from a handicapped Vietnam vet; and the recent mission when the Justice Force had to “put the stomp on a child molester and his gang of crackheads.” They had a plan, but things went awry when Master Legend’s brother was captured in the thick of battle by the child molester, whom they call Tree Man Roy. “That’s when we went into chaos mode,” Master Legend says. But they got his brother free and “cut that big ol’ Tree down.”
Master Legend has many more florid tales of adventure, some plausible, like retrieving a friend’s stolen money, others quite outlandish, like the child molester and his gang of crackheads. (For starters, doesn’t it seem like you would have to be one charismatic child molester to attract an entire gang of crackheads to do your bidding?) On the folding table in the hide-out, I notice a police report. It documents the incident with the hammer and the Battle Truck. Sure enough, it describes how two men were taken into custody for attacking the inhabitants of the house at this address. Master Legend provided a statement, below which the officer wrote, “The hammer was placed into evidence.”
Real Life Superheroes have a conflicted relationship with law enforcement. The hardcore types have a somewhat dated, Death Wish-era worldview, as if the cities are overrun by chain-saw-wielding clown gangs and the cops just can’t control the streets anymore. The more civic-minded superheroes imagine themselves as informal police adjuncts, a secret society of costumed McGruffs. One of Master Legend’s most prized possessions is a framed certificate of commendation from the Orange County Sheriff’s Department, for the time he and the Disabler snapped into action after Hurricane Charley, helping to clear the roads and rescue people from the wreckage. “We were on the news and everything,” Master Legend says. “The police recognized what we did.”
Since then, Master Legend claims that he has developed a police contact on the inside, his “very own Commissioner Gordon.” To prove it, he gives me a phone number. I immediately call and leave a message; I’ve tried to confirm tales from other superheroes, only to discover that the police have never heard of them.
“I have friends in high places,” Master Legend promises. “When they see the silver and black, they know who’s coming.”
As a means of establishing a superhero identity, it is difficult to overstate the importance of the costume. Real Life Superheroes devote much of their time to researching, procuring, making, comparing, fine-tuning and otherwise fetishizing their looks. The costume itself is the radioactive-spider bite, the source of their abilities. Without a costume, after all, you’re just another do-gooder schmuck. “Anyone can have this power,” Superhero says. “All you need to do is tie a towel around your neck and put a sock over your head and run out the door.”
Master Legend often apologizes for the state of his own uniform. It’s getting worn, the mask peeling in places, and feels unpresentable, like someone getting married in shorts. He tells me that he’s ordered new outfits from Hero Gear, a custom supplier in Minneapolis, but high demand is causing a delay. “If only they were here,” Master Legend says with regret. “You’d see a whole new upgrade for the Justice Force!”
Such upgrading can get expensive. Citizen Prime, a superhero based in Utah, spent $4,000 hiring an armorer to forge a sci-fi suit out of plate mail (with canary-yellow accents). Green Scorpion has a tailored mask from Professor Widget, an ultraclandestine supplier of custom equipment who mysteriously appeared online not too long ago. “No one knows who Professor Widget is, where he lives or how he operates,” says Green Scorpion, whose mask is supposedly formed from a ballistic alloy that Widget pioneered called Mongreltanium. (It is advertised as bulletproof, which is why Green Scorpion paid so much for it, although he would like to do his own “ballistics testing” before official deployment.)
Professor Widget also provides pricey tailored gear, like the steel cane with modular nonlethal attachments that Green Scorpion purchased with last year’s tax rebate. Slightly cheaper are catalogs, which Superhero has used to turn himself into a mail-order Batman; his utility belt bristles with pellet guns, bear mace, a tactical baton and the Arma 100, a nitrogen-powered, 37mm personal cannon.
“A lot of those guys have quite the arsenal,” Master Legend says in admiration as he gives me a tour of his own weapons lab, housed in a converted garage out back. This is where Master Legend tinkers with do-it-yourself creations, like the Master Blaster and the Iron Fist, a nasty-looking metal truncheon he made to fit over his hand and deliver “the good old throat slam.” These days, budgetary constraints limit him to more basic gear: a staff, a sword, a good old-fashioned chain and whatever else he can buy cheaply and modify.
I notice some thick sheaves of foam on the wall of the lab. “Soundproofing,” Master Legend says. “For keeping down the volume.”
“During practice,” says the Ace.
“What kind of practice?” I ask.
The Ace smiles and pantomimes air guitar.
The weapons lab doubles as the practice room for Master Legend’s band, which is also called the Justice Force. “The Ace plays the drums,” says Master Legend. “I play guitar and sing.” The drums are in storage at the moment, but the Ace assures me that the Justice Force has a tight set.
“This guy’s wicked on the strings,” he says, pointing at Master Legend. “There’s not a Steely Dan song that me and him can’t play.”
The Justice Force perform originals, too — more than 100 songs, all written by Master Legend. They recorded a single, with their friend, another associate known as the Pain. It’s called “Epic of the Sunrise.” “Want to hear it?” Master Legend asks.
Back at his computer, Master Legend plays the song and takes me through the verses — a Manichaean tale of near-apocalypse wherein Master Legend is an agent of redemption. “I put how I feel into music,” he says, bobbing along with the riffs he composed to accompany the grand opera of his life. “There is a good world out there, and it’s waiting to be restored. That’s what I’m all about. I really hope I can save the world.”
Saving the world, of course,requires personal sacrifice. Few Real Life Superheroes have families. And those with women in their lives often find that their higher calling can cause rifts. Master Legend has seen a lot of relationships go sour, starting with his wife, who divorced him 10 years ago. “She never believed in what I did,” he says. Then there was his last girlfriend. “She left because she wanted to sit around on the couch and hold hands. Well, that’s not in the cards for Master Legend.”
Another casualty of the superhero lifestyle is career advancement. Unlike Peter Parker, Master Legend has no cover job. He can’t hold down a nine-to-five, he says, because a life on the precipice of action means always being available to answer the call. “I’ll walk right out the door if someone needs me,” he says with a laugh. Three years of trade school exposed Master Legend to electronics, welding and other “skills” he drew on while dabbling in odd jobs over the years: shrimp fishing, tree trimming, roofing, salvage work. Lately, he’s been working as an assistant to elderly people. Here again, Master Legend finds himself locked in a battle between good and evil. “All these people are waiting to kick out the old folks, put them in the old-folks’ home,” he says, working himself up with indignation. “But as long as I’m there, they can’t! And they hate me for that.” For Master Legend, it’s all just another type of superheroing. “These are the two sides of my life, which is really one side,” he says, “and that’s the side of making things right.”
The Ace tells me about his conversion to the cause one night as we fetch some Chinese takeout to bring back to the secret hide-out. (Master Legend can’t come with us, because he still won’t remove his mask in my presence.) “I met Master Legend a long time ago,” the Ace says. They hit it off at a party, bonding over music, and discovered that they had a lot of mutual friends. “Before that,” the Ace says, “I was married. Had a good job.” The Ace made good money setting up stage shows — Nickelodeon events, Blue Man Group, that sort of thing. The Ace used to be a performer himself. In a surprising digression, he tells me he once led a “dance revue” called Male Factor. “This was before Chippendales,” he reminds me. “Not like they do now, with just bump and grind, and no imagination. We had choreographers, like in Vegas. In fact, we even did Vegas! Movies, too. Ever heard of Spring Fever? 1982. Starring Susan Anton. Check it out.”
But that was years ago, before the divorce. And the brief stint in jail last year. I didn’t ask exactly how bad things got for the Ace, but eventually his wife’s boss moved into his house, and he moved in with Master Legend. “That’s when I got sucked into the whole Justice Force thing,” says the Ace. He’d helped Master Legend before, but at a distance and never in costume. “I was getting more and more involved. Then M.L. got me a mask and convinced me to put it on. And that’s when I saw the light. It’s a powerful thing.”
Late last year, when the Ace made his first public appearance, he worried what other people might think. But in the protective warmth of the costume, he says, the fear is quickly overcome. “There’s the flawed you and the good you,” he says, striking a philosophical note. “And this” — he holds up the mask — “gives us the chance to make up for our flaws.”
The windows are rolled down, letting in the sound of cicadas from the dark stand of trees across the empty parking lot. “I know it sounds silly,” he says. “But once you change someone else’s life, even in a small way, it makes you realize you can change things in your own life.”
Back at the secret hide-out, as we lay out the Chinese feast on the table, a friend stops by for a quick conversation with Master Legend. It is dusk, and I watch two silhouettes against the twilight out on the porch, conferring quietly.
“That was the Black Panther,” Master Legend says when the friend leaves. The Black Panther “doesn’t want to get caught up with the press,” so Master Legend didn’t introduce him to me, but make no mistake: Black Panther is a Justice Force fellow traveler. Besides sometimes jamming with the band — Black Panther is known to introduce a “reggae vibe” — he helps out on missions. Not too long ago, Black Panther told Master Legend about a local family that was having financial trouble and was in danger of being evicted. So Master Legend helped raise money to cover their rent. “Sometimes that’s all people need,” he says. “A little boost.”
One day last year, Fire alerted Master Legend to a controversial freeway extension up near Apopka, where the state was clashing with activists over the plight of the gopher tortoises living on the site. “I couldn’t believe it,” Master Legend says. “These are beautiful prehistoric creatures, and they wanted to bury them alive with cement. It’s crazy, but that’s the way of the world. That’s why the world needs us.” The Justice Force joined the protest, costumes and all, and the state was forced to relocate the tortoises. “That was a great mission,” Master Legend says. “Those tortoises are the nicest little guys you’d ever want to meet. They look like living cartoons, just eating their lettuce. They’re adorable.”
But nothing is more satisfying to Master Legend than helping those who are less fortunate. On their last big Christmas mission, he and the Ace filled the Battle Truck with supplies they bought, having pooled funds from the Justice Force, and headed to skid row. When they arrived, they were mobbed. Master Legend reckons that they gave something to every single homeless person in Orlando: toothbrushes, razors, soap, blankets, canned goods, cigarettes, candy. When the bags were empty, he and the Ace headed back to the secret hide-out to celebrate with a few beers.
“We aren’t that much better off than the people we’re helping,” the Ace notes, gesturing to the squalor of the hide-out. Neither Master Legend nor the Ace received any Christmas gifts themselves, but neither of them is complaining. “A lot of people talk about doing right by other people,” says the Ace. “But what are they really doing?”
Despite their successes, things have been hard for the Justice Force lately. “These are bad times,” Master Legend says, opening a few “thirst quenchers” after dinner. I’ve already noticed there are always a few empty twelvers laying around the secret hide-out. Outside the front door, a mountainous pile of crushed cans suggests that Busch is the Justice Force brand of choice.
“This is our one vice,” Master Legend says, “the ol’ brewski.”
“That’s right,” adds the Ace.
“With all our aches and pains from fighting off so many criminals, we gotta have our beers,” Master Legend says.
“Hear, hear!” The Ace hoists his can.
With that, Master Legend unloads about his troubles. It’s tough being a superhero, he says, because your whole life must be lived to a certain standard. Looking out for everyone in the Justice Force involves a lot of thankless work. And then there’s the wider superhero community, which has succumbed to rival factions and bitter accusations over who the real superheroes are and who should lead them to greatness. A superhero named Tothian, who lives with his parents in an undisclosed part of New Jersey, serves as president of the Heroes Network — the self-proclaimed “United Nations of Superheroes.” Tothian has tried to excommunicate several members, including his former partner, Chris Guardian, who then co-founded the Worldwide Heroes Organization. More than a few Real Life Superheroes seem like they’re just one splash of acid in the face away from tormented supervillainy. Several superheroes once suggested kidnapping foreign leaders to make a statement on Darfur. Others pointed out that this was (a) illegal and (b) dangerously unheroic. As a universally respected veteran, Master Legend often plays a diplomatic role, moderating between sides. “I don’t need any more problems from the superheroes out there,” he says. “I have plenty right here.”
Case in point is the secret hide-out. “I mean, look at this place!” Master Legend complains, acknowledging the disarray. “It’s a disaster!” The reason, Master Legend confides, is that he’s being evicted. This is the dominant battle in his life at the moment, one he didn’t choose to fight. The secret hide-out, it turns out, is a rental. The state Department of Transportation has invoked eminent domain to widen the freeway, causing a protracted battle. This is why the place is empty. “They’re gonna tear down the secret headquarters!” Master Legend says, pounding his beer can on the table. “We have to be ready to leave in a moment’s notice.”
Master Legend notes the irony: Having defended the gopher tortoises against a freeway, Master Legend must now fight the very same cunning villain again, this time in his own backyard. “It’s like they’re getting back at me,” he says. “And believe me, they’re coming full force. I’d rather face a dozen men with chains in an alley than deal with the bureaucracy of the state of Florida.” It’s a sobering thing, he says, for a superhero to be constrained by the demands of real life. “I want to be out there taking care of criminals, not packing my stuff in boxes.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen Master Legend dispirited. He’s hardly eaten. But he brightens when talking about the new secret hide-out he just lined up. It’s a house right on the next block. The Ace will move with him. They have to wait to get their displacement check from the state, and pay back some people for storage, and then move their stuff in, but if all goes well, they’ll be up and running soon.
Master Legend decides we should take a tour of the new secret hide-out. When we get there, the place is empty except for a single ninja star Master Legend placed in the center of the floor as a good-luck talisman. We see the bedrooms, the hallway trapdoor (handy in case the duo are surrounded by “an enemy attack”) and the garage that will be transformed into the new weapons workshop and band-practice room. “I know this is a shabby, old place,” he says. “But there is a lot of potential here.” He’s already got big plans for a van outfitted to allow Master Legend to emerge from the back on a motorcycle — the Legend Cycle — while the van is moving, like Knight Rider. Genius Jim, the mechanic, is already scouring his contacts for the van and the Enduro two-stroke that he will turn into the Legend Cycle.
“Can you imagine what that will be like?” Master Legend says. “If everything works out as planned, there will be no stopping us.” Together, he and the Ace admire the empty house with satisfaction. Then we go back to their current empty house, where the Ace offers a toast. And we all drink to the new secret hide-out.
I‘ve forgotten all about Master Legend’s police contact by the time he returns my call, several weeks after my message. “This is the Sergeant,” he says, asking that his name not be revealed. “I was fishing down in the Keys. What do you want to know about Master Legend?”
The Sergeant tells me that one of his patrol officers came across Master Legend running through the bushes in costume one night. The encounter wound up in a report, and that report wound up on the Sergeant’s desk. The officer recorded Master Legend’s describing how he “fights evil” in the streets, and the Sergeant, who’s in charge of vice investigations, took a chance and tracked Master Legend down. Based on the neighborhood, he figured, Master Legend might be a good local contact. “And sure enough,” the Sergeant tells me, “I start getting calls from Master Legend with information. And it checks out. Master Legend has helped put away a few criminals.”
I call Master Legend to tell him I reached the Sergeant. He’s not surprised. “I knew he would come through,” Master Legend says. “He’s a good guy. I’m in the process of gathering evidence against someone else for him. Master Legend does the recon, and the police strike! Just how it ought to be!”
When I ask how things are going otherwise, Master Legend drops some bad news: The Ace moved out. He just wasn’t pulling his weight anymore. “He was depressed because of his personal stuff,” Master Legend says. “I wanted him to start pitching in. That’s part of getting back to normal. It would be good for him. But he was doing less and less, just hanging around all day.”
The situation worsened when the Ace didn’t show up for a few Justice Force missions. Suddenly, he wasn’t fulfilling his duties as a roommate or as a sidekick. “I wasn’t mad,” Master Legend says. “I just tried to talk to him. We all did. The Third Eye gave me good advice about how to approach the situation. But we wound up getting in a fight, and the Ace up and moved out. Just like that. Being here was helping for a while, but I guess he just needs to sort things out by himself.”
The Ace took his drums, technically disbanding the sonic wing of the Justice Force, but Master Legend has already found some new music partners. Among them is Ace Gauge, the new sidekick who has assumed the role of the Ace. The old Justice Force band, Master Legend says, turned out to be “more of a studio project,” whereas this new venture will mean performing again.
“There is just too much going on,” Master Legend says, “to worry about the past.” The costume upgrades finally showed up, for one thing, and the two-tone bodysuit, improved mask and World War II helmet come together strangely well. Master Legend also found a suitable van and located a motorcycle. In preparation for deployment, he had a magnet made for the van door that says Justice Force Special Operations Unit. On the world-saving front, the team is preparing to mount a new type of mission, a public-relations campaign to raise awareness about a strain of staph infection that’s spreading among the homeless in the Orlando area. “It will be like the gopher-tortoise mission,” Master Legend says, “but bigger!” The van will be pressed into service, and Superhero might come in from Clearwater with his Corvette.
This may be the real reason Master Legend inhabits a never-ending comic book in his mind, assigning everyone a character in the grand narrative. His roommate turns into the Ace, his mechanic into Genius Jim, and a friend with some recording equipment into the Pain. And so the reality of Master Legend, a guy who has no job and lives in a run-down house in a crummy neighborhood in Orlando, is transmuted via secret decoder ring into an everlasting tale of heroic outsiders, overcoming the odds and vanquishing enemies.
To the outside world, this makes Master Legend seem like a lunatic. But to the people around him, he is the charismatic center of an inviting universe. “It sounds a little silly,” Superhero says, “but we all want to be part of a better tomorrow.” Or, for that matter, a better today. Being a Real Life Superhero means that Master Legend can get in his Nissan pickup and call it the Battle Truck. He can tape together a potato gun and call it the Master Blaster. He can stand in the porch light of a disintegrating clapboard house, a beer in his hand, and behold a glorious clandestine citadel. And who are we to tell him otherwise?
http://www.rollingstone.com/news/story/25020634/the_legend_of_master_legend

By Paul Constant
They hide their true identities behind elaborate masks and costumes, patrolling the streets of downtown Salt Lake City in groups of two and three. People react to them in various ways: Older folks tend to ignore them. Drunken young adults want to pose with them for photos. Teenagers tend to hiss, growl and shout in their general direction, while children walk right up to them and ask what they are doing. Despite the masks and secret identities, they’re completely open about their purpose.
“Inferno,” one of the newest members of the group, is unfazed by the evening chill. He passes by a group of teens. One of them shouts: “Halloween’s not over!” Inferno winces, rolls his eyes, and responds, in the bored tone of someone who’s tired of hearing the same joke over and over again, “Nope, it’s not.” A girl of about 14 breaks from the mass of tittering boys and bravely approaches Inferno. He’s wearing a red hood and tunic, thigh-high pleather boots, and a matching black pleather mask that covers his eyes and nose. She breaks the awkward silence: “Can I ask about your costume?”
Inferno nods, unconsciously touches his red goatee and answers: “I’m part of the Black Monday Society.”
The girl cocks her head. “The Black Monday Society?”
“Yeah,” Inferno begins, a little more comfortable now, getting into a well-worn groove, “We just walk around, you know, patrol the streets.”
“Like Citizens on Patrol?” adds the girl, invoking the title of the fourth Police Academy movie. Her friends seem to get the reference and break into laughter.
Inferno brightens. “Yeah. “Citizens on patrol.”
“Cool!” says the girl, and despite the fact that her male friends are still hanging back—way back—and giggling, she seems to be genuinely happy about the idea. Inferno smiles and hands her a business card.
“We have a Website,” he says. “Look us up, it’ll tell you more about what we do. That’s pretty much what it’s about. It’s a lot of fun.”
“OK,” she says, waving goodbye with the card and running back to her friends, “Have fun!”
“You, too,” Inferno says. “Bye.”
And then he goes back to patrolling the streets, keeping his eye out for danger, wherever it lurks.
We Need Another Hero

The Black Monday Society started five years ago, when a Salt Lake City-area tattoo artist and lifelong comic-book fan named Dave went exploring on MySpace. “I always told my wife, even before we got married, that if I ever see a real superhero, I’m so going to be one,” he says. “Come on, just the idea of wearing a mask, going out, doing something good? Being somebody else for a little bit? Doesn’t that sound a little enthralling to you?”
After doing a search for comic-book-related fan groups, Dave happened upon the Web pages of two Indianapolis men who go by the names “Mr. Silent” and “Doktor DiscorD.” They called themselves Real Life Superheroes, and they went on patrol on the Indianapolis streets searching for wrongs to right.
“So,” Dave says, “I set up a MySpace page, made an identity for myself, just to talk to them, and it kind of evolved from there. It was really inspiring.”
Dave couldn’t believe this was happening, that his childhood obsession was taking shape, and that people all over the world were a part of it. “I went home to my wife and told her about it and she said, ‘Wow,’ and then she said, ‘Is this for real?’ and I said, ‘Yeah,’ and she said, ‘So, when do you go out?’ and I said, ‘As soon as possible.’”
Like all Real Life Superheroes, Dave, 37, uses only his first name, and he’d rather go by his character’s name anyway. His first superhero identity was “The American Corpse.” He dressed in an Israeli army gas mask, fedora and a suit and tie, much like classic DC Comics superhero The Sandman. Dave’s good friend, a very tall man with a lazy Johnny Cash drawl, says he’s “always been fascinated by ghosts and goblins and demons and things of that nature,” so he decided to call himself “Ghost.” He made a costume of a rubber Halloween skeleton mask adorned with a shock of white hair and a matching ribcage on his chest. Ghost is 32 and works in real life as a concrete finisher. Quiet and unassuming, he explains his unusual hobby by saying, “It’s every little boy’s fantasy to be a real life superhero.”
Ghost sums up his passion for the street with a comment on his blog: “Doesn’t matter how many people snicker at us. What matters is we are out there doin’ our duty for justice.”
Recounting their first night out on patrol in 2001, American Corpse and Ghost say they were standing by their car on a city street having a smoke. A Salt Lake City cop on patrol approached them and pulled over. American Corpse says he decided to slowly approach her to explain their costumes and superheroic intent. She firmly told them, “Please stand by the hood of the car.” American Corpse kept walking toward the officer, then reached into his jacket to pull out his wallet and identification. Reacting to Corpse’s decision to keep moving, the officer put her hand on her revolver and shouted, “Stand by the hood of the car, now!” American Corpse says he wasn’t even really thinking but decided to try and calm the situation by saying, “It’s OK, ma’am, don’t worry. Relax; I’m a superhero.”
The cop eventually let them move on, but the heroes claim the Black Monday Society is on the Salt Lake City Police Department’s official list of street gangs. A spokesman for the SLCPD would not confirm that statement.
When Flats Need Fixing

If a healthy number of Websites and blogs are any indication, there are hundreds of Real Life Superheroes around the world, mainly operating out of urban areas. One of the best known is “Citizen Prime,” an RLS from Phoenix. Prime is a husband, father and office worker who puts on a costume (or uniform, as the RLS community prefers) with intent to fight crime. Though Prime does carry a pair of intriguingly named “stun-knuckles” in case he has to protect himself or others, most of the work he does fits neatly within the category of good Samaritanism—flat-tire repair and making speeches to elementary-school students about the dangers of drug use. But in the past year, buoyed by increased media attention, Prime has also started a successful toy drive to help needy children.
Prime, an office worker in his 40s, has a certain charisma, the kind usually seen in community organizers and old-fashioned politicians. In conversations, he’s prone to wholesome expressions like, “Oh, my gosh,” and “Gee,” sounding like a real-life Jimmy Stewart. He vouches for the Black Monday Society, implicitly. “They’re really good guys. I’ve had contact with them for a while now, and they seem like the real deal.” Prime visited the Black Monday Society over the long winter, but—human as they were—the heroes decided it was too cold to patrol. Still, one hero wrote on his blog that “we did suit up and take some photos,” and that “more team-ups will happen when it gets a little warmer.”
New Real Life Superheroes seem to appear every day. They add their photos and biographies to Websites like RealLifeSuperheroes.com and share their thoughts on weaponry, good deeds and other topics on blogs such as Heroes Network. There’s the Justice Society of Justice, based in Indianapolis; The Boise Brigade, and, from Washington, D.C., the Capitol City Super Squad. “Zetaman” patrols the streets of Portland, Ore., wearing a utility belt loaded with a first-aid kit, a baton and a Taser, among other gadgets.
Polarman shovels the snow-covered sidewalks of Iqalulit, the capital city of Canada’s youngest province, Nunavut—located north of Quebec on Baffin Island. Entomo the Insect Man claims to protect Naples, Italy, and frequents superhero message boards with hilariously Roberto Benigni-esque broken English comments. His MySpace page boasts a mission statement: “To be a Real Life Superhero is truly the greatest deed a man can accomplish in a backwards world like this, where fiction is truer to reality than reality itself. On the other hand, the chance to fight for such a stunning planet is too significant to be turned down. Hear my buzz, fear my bite,” and it ends, as all his posts do, with his tagline: “I inject justice!”
Whole businesses have sprung up around the RLS life. Hero-Gear.net deals in costumes for Real Life Superheroes. Armories that produce chain mail and weapons for Renaissance fair actors have started to sell to the RLS community, as well. Dressing up like a superhero and going on patrol seems to be looking less like a bizarre pastime than it does a lifestyle choice, according to some of the heroes. Think teenagers going goth or animal-rights activists fervently volunteering for PETA.
The media is giddily spreading the word about RLS. Some television stations have struck a gold mine in covering regional “superteams,” packing their reports with references to Batmobiles and “Pow! Bang! Boom!” sound effects. A reporter from Rolling Stone went on patrol with the Black Monday Society last fall (though the magazine has yet to publish the story) and several filmmakers are rushing to finish documentaries about the Real Life Superhero movement. Members of The Black Monday Society claim one documentary maker told them that, to be featured in his film, they’d have to sign the rights to their superhero identities away to him. They declined. Another filmmaker and his subjects hosted a Times Square publicity stunt covered in The New York Times last October. Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, a recently completed documentary, is scheduled for various film festivals this spring. See RealLifeSuperhero.com for a snippet of the film.
Internet reaction to the RLS movement is mixed. RLS and superhero fans are continuously posting words of encouragement on each other’s blogs. But, as soon as a non-RLS site notices them, the general public, hidden securely behind a guise of anonymity, tears them to shreds. After a story about Silent and DiscorD appeared on comic-book writer Warren Ellis’s blog, the posters unanimously decided that RLSs were endangering themselves, if not others. One commenter, Monk Eastman, summed up the feelings this way: “I predict the following headline: ‘Oddly Dressed Virgin Found Shot 1,123 Times.’”
“A Little Gimmicky?”

Dave quickly dropped the American Corpse persona for another identity: a tights-wearing street fighter named Ferox. Ferox is reserved for Dave’s patrols farther north in Ogden. When in Salt Lake City, Dave is Insignis, a robed figure with a giant white cross across his chest. “The most easily recognizable symbol in the world is the cross,” he explains, “So what better symbol to have?” (The two names are derived from a large tattoo across his back that reads “Insignis Ferox,” Latin for “Mark of the Wild One.”)
After those first few patrols with Ghost, Insignis’ friends were quick to join them. The team grew to 13 members strong in a matter of months. The group originally patrolled on Mondays—hence the name—but “things are much more likely to happen on Fridays and Saturdays, so the Monday thing didn’t last long,” Insignis says. They stuck with the name primarily because “it sounds cool.”
New identities are common with the Black Monday Society: Inferno took his name because of a fiery temper he admits used to get him in trouble before becoming a RLS. But the 33-year-old recently decided to focus on his sense of humor by becoming “Ha!,” a clown-themed superhero.
Oni, 36, based his identity on a Japanese demon. He’s married to a woman the team calls “Mother One.” She creates most of their costumes by hand. “She’s very supportive of this,” Oni says. Most of the team, including 38-year-old occasional member “Silver Dragon,” a thin man with a thick Southern accent, are married. They say their wives are proud of them but balked at a reporter’s request to speak with the women. Earlier this year, Oni went on his first patrol with his daughter, who will take the name “Frost” as soon as she has a costume. “I was very nervous and excited at the same time;” he wrote on his blog. “I hoped that nothing would happen on her first time out. I am proud that she wants to give back to the community and help people that need it.”
The heroes say they have been spending more time in Ogden lately because of what they perceive as increased gang activity. Ogden Mayor Matthew Godfrey takes issue with that claim: “We have had a seven-year decline of crime in Ogden and one of the keys to that is getting the community involved. Having neighbors be vigilant and engaged is a critical ingredient to safer neighborhoods.” Godfrey adds that the Black Monday Society “fits in” with this push for community involvement. Although he finds them “a little gimmicky,” Godfrey allows that, “We will take their participation any way we can get it.” The Salt Lake City Police Department had no comment on the Black Monday Society. Lt. Paul Jaroscak, spokesman for the Salt Lake County Sheriff’s Department, says he has “no knowledge or comment” regarding the group.
If the local cops are sketchy on their knowledge of the superheroes, it might be due to the group’s lack of clarity. What, exactly, does the Black Monday Society do? They talk about “helping people” and “helping the homeless.” But, on one evening this past November, the patrol’s big events included a photo session with a gaggle of drunken college students, some heckling from passersby and a thumbs-up from an enthusiastic tourist from Minneapolis, who wished there was something like this “back home.” The patrol also handed out a couple of dollars to a homeless man with the telltale facial scabs of heavy meth use.
The team contends the patrols are its work, and that members curb crime simply by being seen. And Silver Dragon says there’s proof: “I’ve heard from friends that, after we patrol a particular neighborhood, there’s no crime there for the rest of the night.” That November patrol was one of the last crime-fighting excursions of 2007. The team has laid low for the winter, declaring Salt Lake City’s long, harsh winter too cold to patrol. But they plan on taking to the streets again, now that spring has arrived.
Oni, the only member of the Black Monday Society with extensive martial-arts training, recalls one time when he confronted a drug-addled man who was abusing his mother in a city park. “The first thing we do is call the cops,” he says, “in any situation.” Most superheroes will, in fact, say the same thing. They strongly advise against getting directly involved in police calls.
After calling 911, Oni and Ghost approached the man. They say he promptly relented when confronted with men dressed as demons. Insignis also recalls a time they chased after a drunk man who was standing by the side of the road, trying to punch passing cars. The man got away, but Insignis says, laughing, “He probably won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”
Outside Salt Lake City, the superhero action is getting a little more feverish and a lot less law abiding. Rumors have spread in the RLS community that one of their own, a man known as “Nostrum,” based in Louisiana, has lost an eye doing battle with a criminal. An RLS from Florida known as “Master Legend” claims to attack evildoers, bashing garbage cans over the heads of crack fiends and kicking others with his steel-toe boots. Another man, known as “Hero,” has quit fighting crime and is taking up ultimate fighting. “There is only one thing I can always count on, one thing that will always be there and that is the fight. The fight is all I have,” he recently blogged.
The Black Monday Society has set up an office, and Oni says they are working to gain legal status as a non-profit organization. “As soon as we do that, it’ll open up a lot more doorways for us so we can start receiving money and we can help more people,” he says, adding that “I’d like to do more than just help the homeless. I’d like to start helping abused and battered women. Things like that.”
In a parking lot after the patrol, the team gathers to smoke cigarettes and share a laugh or two. Inferno refers to Insignis as “Father O’Malley,” and asks him if his sidekick’s name is “Altar Boy.” Insignis laughs it off but then snaps back on message, insisting that the Black Monday Society is seeking more than fun and fame: “Instead of being the guy on the couch saying ‘God, I wish somebody would do something,’ I get to be the guy on the couch who says, ‘Yeah, I did something!’ or, ‘At least I tried.’ No regrets, no nothing. Just pure do.”
http://www.cityweekly.net/utah/article-6056-feature-slc-superheroes-the-black-monday-society-keeps-an-eye-out-for-street-crime-so-you-donrst-have-to.htm