Bizzare Day of Lessons…"Right place for a reason"

So I’m headed out today & decide to go out of my way to get a cup of coffee, So I take a different route then usual & there is this guy sitting at the side of the road banging the  dirt out of his shoes & his feet are kind of “odd” looking so I turn around & offer him a ride. He wants to go to a soup Kitchen (That I didn’t know existed) behind a bar (That I did know existed) so I take him. On the way we pass a bunch of his friends walking to & from the place & he cranks my stereo & waves to everybody we pass yelling “Hey Man! look over here!” & I’m laughing my ass off as I drop him off. He asks if he can have the protein bar on my seat & I give it to him & he waves good bye from the door of the place with a huge ear to ear grin, The Bum who arrives at the soup kitchen in a Corvette…he’s the talk of the town. He’ll remember that on his death bed (which didn’t look far off) & I drop the Vette off for some maintenance & hop in a cab to get the Sentra…the Cabbie, “Oliver”  immediately brings up that he’s a retired trucker…and he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time to help people or “learn lessons” when he traveled around the country. I thought “how bizarre that he brings that up?” & I tell him my story. We decide that you’re in certain places at certain times for a reason. So I head home…and the guy building Ladyhero’s sidewalk tells me if he hadn’t been here he would not have just met the guy who stopped next door & offered him a job! So I tell him the whole story too about certain place at certain time. Every time I turn around today I’m having it put on a platter in front of me that you are in a certain place at a certain time for a reason. Let it happen…and act when it happens.



I call these crisis  “the Big Three Evils.”
We must oppose them without hesitation nor excuses!
Otherwise we’re worthless.
While I type and you read people are being brutalized who don’t have to be; are hungry literally surrounded by food and without shelter in the shadow of sorrounding structures???
Such avoidable misery puts the lie to arrogant claims that humanity is so advanced. Creative activists in the “real life superhero ” ( RLSH ); extreme altruist ( X ALT ) and citizen patrol ( CP ) communities have made opposing the Big Three Evils their industry standard.
Violent crime is the visible destruction of what happens quietly regarding hunger and homelessness. Notice sirens wail and flashing lights regarding violence but none upon discovering empty stomachs with no roof overhead?
Creative activists role is to spotlight the Big Three; help them on our own and rally citizens into the greatest potential mass movement possible: arresting violent crime; hunger and homelessness until they cease to exist.
High flown rhetoric? Perhaps. But stopping the Big Three Evils isn’t impossible. The micro-good creative activists accomplish on budgets infinitely less than those of the Department of Health and Human Services or USDA is daily proof.
More than any terror cell or rogue nation the Big Three Evils of brutality; hunger and homelessness test assumptions about being co-called caring human beings.
Every violence victim; hunger victim and homelessness victim are points on the Cosmic Scoreboard for the Big Three Evils.
Each small act reducing the Big Three Evils counts on the Cosmic Scoreboard too!
Suiting up and taking to the playing field of real life against the Big Three Evils is the only choice that makes sense!

CAP BLACK promotes creative crime prevention and provides safety first hand as a FREE! Security activist to select people and causes. (504) 214-3082 [email protected] is where can assist  my PERSONAL crusade against brutality; hunger & homelessness.


“For just a few hours…”Jungle cat Bitches”.

Today was not my day.
I have a REAL elderly parent and she sees the yellow tape at the end of the race so she’s trying to tie up loose ends.
This would not be fun in the first place, but my Mom never won any contests for Miss Congeniality so it was a day of hauling her around in the sun & listening to her chew out Bank staff, Nurses, basically anybody who got in the way of her wrath while sitting there with my face buried in my hand. Finally after a full day of this I get home to Lady Hero & dinner at a Hawaiian restaurant that just opened in Ozona when it hits me…
“Man, I got to patrol.”
I’m wiped out & on my last leg you think I’d just want to watch the Hula dancers, get home & hit the rack after the Simpson’s or something but no…
“Man I got to patrol.”
So I suit up & head for St. Pete, I get a coffee & head for the Highway when the light in front of me turns yellow. “Yellow light? No F*&^king problem…I put my foot down on the gas & nothing happens… that’s when it dawns on me…
“Oh my GOD! I’m not in the Supermobile! I’m going to F^%$ing DIE!”
So I’m literally standing on the Brake Horizontally and I think the Sentra is doing that “Bunching up” thing that the car the Pink Panther had that had a Mind of it’s own would do when it was trying to keep from sailing over a cliff or something when I manage to come to a stop right before the intersection.
I’m sitting there shaking & I look down & realize “Wow I didn’t spill a drop of coffee.”
Now that IS a superpower. You think that would be the end of it but…
“Man I got to patrol.”
So I get down there and things finally start to take a swing up. I’m on foot and there’s some kind of huge block party going on, 5 people stopped me that had seen me on HBO & supported what we were doing, another bunch just wanted photos with me or to talk about what I was doing there, but even this wasn’t quenching my desire to be out there.
“Man I got to patrol.”
So I walk away from all that & get back into the quiet, Darker, Spookier part of the city. And that’s when it finally dawns on me.
“I’m patrolling.”
“This has to be the bottom line draw to this for a lot of guys.” I think to myself.
Throughout the day they’re everyday yutzes but for just a few hours a night…
They get to be a F&*^king Jungle Cat. It’s dark, their tights are compressing against their muscles, they’re looking for prey, for just a few hours they get to be on top of the food chain in some form or another.
Everything is right in their world.
I don’t know why it’s on patrol that I always have moments of clarity, I wonder if other guys are the same way.
Because when it’s done, it’s back home to do the F*&^king dishes.
Live the Gimmick

Something to bring up with all the threats flying around…

Something needs to be addressed..and it has to do with firearms so pay attention….Somebody just brought to my attention (in a polite fashion) on my youtube that it “instills fear” in people that I carry a sidearm (Legally) on patrol & at events. In light of everything that has happened lately with Zeatman and personal threats being slung around like candy it made me realize this is a perfect time to bring this up. I carry a sidearm for protection, I’ve had my (And Lady heroes) well being threatened in the past. that’s all I carry it for. When you guys go (RLSH & RLSV alike) Threatening & telling to F*&^ off & accusing of all kinds of vile crap it appears to me that YOU DON’T REALIZE that this is the INTERNET. You have NO CLUE who the guy on the other end of that insult might be. The guy with the bed sheet thrown over his head with eye holes cut in it & “RLSH” spray painted on the front could be the next Ted Kaczynski. Or worse, some guy who thinks it’s perfectly fine to mail you a envelope full of anthrax. Any idea who Alan Berg was? He was a Talk Jock back in the 1980’s who thought it was funny to shoot his mouth off…repeatedly. Until one night two members of the American Nazi party showed up in his driveway with a Couple of MAC-10’s with the Sears Filed down & shredded him. They painted a nice big Swastika on what was left of him for his wife to find. Put things like that in the back of your head before you go harassing somebody on the web. I’ve been guilty of it too. Somebody says something to me & I’ve fired back. Then I’ve backpedaled & just avoided those people like the plague because I HAVE NO IDEA WHO THEY ARE. I just saw a buddy of mine get insulted on here who I know personally. The guy who did it probably doesn’t know the guy has a F*&^ing FACTORY & LAB in his garage where he fashions WEAPONS for people. For the LOVE OF GOD people THINK.
The bottom line is…think before you write. If they aren’t doing anything to you, they probably won’t. Poop doesn’t stink unless you stir it.
Think twice.


Real Life Super Heroes on the Streets of SF

Originally Posted:
By Mathew Luschek
Justin Juul over at the Bold Italic spent a night hanging out on the streets of San Francisco, with some Real Life Super Heroes.

Photo by Peter Tangen

Photo by Peter Tangen

No really. The Real Life Super Hero movement started in 2008, shortly after the “Kick-Ass” comic book was released. The organization is a collection of everyday citizens who don super hero costumes, and roam their city looking for crime.
Believe it or not there are over 250 of these brave folks worldwide. There’s Axle Grinder Man in London, Nyx, a female hero in New York, and here in San Francisco Motor Mouth and his crew which includes Nightbug and Justified.
As you browse the Real Life Super Hero page, you can check out the costumes some of these cats have constructed. Some are rather impressive, like the one Death’s Head Moth wears as he patrols an unnamed city in Virginia.
And these people are serious about what they do. Motor Mouth has been threatened and beat up doing his part to rid the streets of crime. In Juul’s article, he describes walking the streets of the Tenderloin in the middle of the night, approaching crackheads and running into the police (who don’t care for the masked method of crime-fighting.)
“Our relationship with the police department is tenuous at best,” Motor Mouth said.
Photo by Peter Tangen

Photo by Peter Tangen

While you’re thinking what I’m thinking, “These guys are gonna get killed,” they do take some precautions. Motor Mouth, for instance carries a pocketknife, mace and a pair of Blast Knuckles which are like brass knuckles but with a 950,000 volt taser built in.
Maybe they’re just over-zealous comic book fans, but they do seem to do some good. So if you see a group of caped crusaders walking the streets, don’t heckle them, because they just might save your life one day.
Juul’s full article at the Bold Italic
The Real Life Super Hero website

Superhero Teenage Nicks

Originally posted:
By Vince Soodin

BRITAIN'S youngest real-life superheroes have joined forces to fight street crime.

BRITAIN’S youngest real-life superheroes have joined forces to fight street crime.

Masked crusaders Night Warrior and The Man In Black, both 18, teamed up like Batman and Robin.
They have already hunted down a suspected drugs gang and tipped off cops about their den in North London.
Hat-wearing The Man In Black said he has been in a few scrapes tackling crime – and was cut on the hand by one thug. But he only uses an UMBRELLA for protection.
He revealed his identity as unemployed Joseph Falica, of Harrow, who started patrols two years ago. He said: “I’m willing to risk my life.”
Spandex-clad Night Warrior, who has joined him on patrol in London, is from Salford, Gtr Manchester. He said: “I’m saving up for a bullet-proof vest.”
Last week The Sun told of at least 16 other real-life superheroes on Britain’s streets.

Real life super heroes?

Originally posted:
And you thought superheroes existed only in fiction? Inspired by fiction superheroes such as Batman and Superman, these people wear masks and capes in order to fight real crime on the strets. Here’s a list with 10 of the most famous real-life superheroes.
Superbarrio (Mexico)
He’s faster than a speeding turtle, able to leap small speed bumps in a single bound. Look, up in the sky … Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s Superbarrio — a flabby caped crusader in cherry red tights who traverses the streets of Mexico City, defending the lower class. A high school dropout with a humble upbringing, Superbarrio has become one of Mexico City’s greatest folk heroes. For the past 10 years, he has stood as the champion of the working class, the poor and the homeless.

“I opened my eyes and found myself as you see me with a voice telling me, ‘You are Superbarrio,’” he said, explaining that his name means super-neighborhood. “I can’t stop a plane or a train single-handed, but I can keep a family from being evicted.” His role is primarily symbolic as the protector of low-income neighborhoods. But on behalf of squatters and labor unions, Superbarrio leads protest rallies, files petitions and challenges court decisions. Rumors also have circulated that he attempted to run for the president of the United States to better protect Mexican workers. His followers find him inspirational and recently erected a statue in his honor — a giant lifelike replica that looks like an oversized Cabbage Patch doll at 40. The awed crowd chanted, “You see him. You feel him. Superbarrio is here!”
Terrifica (NY City)
Terrifica patrols New York City’s bars, clubs, and streets by night, in an effort to protect inebriated women in danger of being taken advantage of by men. Since the mid-1990s Terrifica has donned a golden mask, Valkyrie bra, blond wig, red boots and cape, to distract the men she tries to dissuade from seducing drunk young women. She carries a utility belt containing a pepper spray, cell phone, lipstick, a camera to photograph alleged predators, a journal, Terrifica fortune cards, and Smarties for energy. Terrifica has an arch-nemesis, a self-proclaimed philanderer who calls himself Fantastico. “I protect the single girl living in the big city,” says Terrifica. By day, she is Sarah, a 30-year-old single woman who works for a computer consulting company. “I do this because women are weak. They are easily manipulated, and they need to be protected from themselves and most certainly from men and their ill intentions toward them.”
The Eye (Mountain View California)
The Eye is a 48 year-old superhero who patrols the streets of Mountain View, California. He is a street-level, practical crime fighter, who uses various electronic and other means to prevent crime. He has even got a myspace page!
Citizen Prime (Phoenix)
Citizen Prime, a 40-year-old married man whose first name is Jim, has been protecting the streets of Phoenix for a year. He became a superhero to spread the message that people don’t have to be fearful of crime. “Are you going to sit inside scared that a terrorist might attack your city, or are you going to go out and live your life?” he asked. But Prime, who patrols once or twice a week in a black, blue and yellow costume, found one chink in his armor. He couldn’t find any crime. “The only crime I’ve ever stopped is when I was actually walking out of a sporting goods store with my wife,” he said. “A shoplifter came running past me, and I managed to throw him to the ground.”
Tothian (NJ and NY city)
Tothian, 22, is a superhero who protects New Jersey and New York, is one of the more active heroes. He uses his skills as a Marine reservist and martial arts expert when patrolling the streets, and has escorted women home at night and broken up fights. His uniform–he prefers that term to costume–is black combat boots, green cargo pants and a T-shirt. His logo, which is stitched into the middle of the T-shirt with cut-up bandanas, is made from the letters used to spell Tothian. Tothian doesn’t wear a mask because it blocks his peripheral vision, and says he doesn’t wear a cape “because capes get in the way of actually doing real superhero stuff.” Tothian says he doesn’t want to become a police officer because he doesn’t agree with every law on the book. “I’m not out to punish every single criminal,” he said. For example, he would counsel marijuana smokers, but wouldn’t apprehend them as bad guys. Tothian said he gets some strange looks when people find out he’s a superhero. But after people realize he’s out to protect them, he says their trepidation eases somewhat.
Angle Grinder Man (London, and Kent)
Angle-grinder Man patrols by night looking for unhappy drivers who have been clamped and then sets the


Originally posted:
DARK GUARDIAN, CIVITRON, CAPTAIN OZONE, SUPER BARRIO… no son nombres cutres de superheroes sacados de algun comic… Estos son SUPERHEROES REALES que operan en USA y Mexico
Tienen hasta su propia base de datos de heroes, sus grupos y cada uno defiende su territorio de rateros, maltratadores y demas delincuentes de poca monta….
Alguna ya se ha llevado un susto y mas de uno ha sido detendio por extralimitarse en sus funciones de “vigilante”
Cualquier chalado yanki, experto en artes marciales, exmarine o lo que sea puede fabricarse su propio traje y lanzarse a defender las calles de su cidudad
A Londres ya ha llegado la moda de los Superheroes reales, ¿cuanto tardara en llegar a nuestro pais?
De momento estos son los mas famosos:
English Translation
DARK GUARDIAN CIVITRON, CAPTAIN OZONE SUPER BARRIO … crappy names are not taken from any superhero comic … These are REAL SUPERHEROES operating in USA and Mexico
Have up their own database of heroes, their groups and each group defends its territory of thieves, abusers and other petty criminals ….
Some have already taken a shock and more than one has been detendio by overstepping its boundaries to “police”
Any crazy Yankee martial arts expert, exmarine or whatever can make its own suit and start to defend the streets of his cidudad
A London fashion has reached the real Superheroes, how much will take to get into our country?
At the moment these are the most famous:

Superheroes in Real Life

By Ward Rubrecht
Geist’s breath fogs the winter air as he surveys the frozen Minneapolis skyline, searching for signs of trouble. His long duster flaps in the breeze as his eyes flick behind reflective sunglasses; a wide-brim hat and green iridescent mask shroud his identity from those who might wish him harm.
Should a villain attack, the Emerald Enforcer carries a small arsenal to defend himself: smoke grenades, pepper spray, a slingshot, and a pair of six-inch fighting sticks tucked into sturdy leather boots. Leather guards protect Geist’s arms; his signature weapon, an Argentinean cattle-snare called bolos, hangs from a belt-holster.
A mission awaits and time is of the essence, so Geist eases his solid frame, honed from martial arts training, into his trusty patrol vehicle—a salt-covered beige sedan. Unfamiliar with the transportation tangle of downtown, he pulls a MapQuest printout from his pocket, discovering his goal is but a short cruise down Washington Avenue.
Soon Geist faces his first obstacle: parking on the left side of a one-way street. “Usually one of my superpowers is parallel parking,” he chuckles as he eases his car into the spot, emerging victorious with a foot and a half between curb and tire. He feeds a gauntleted fistful of quarters into the parking meter, and then pops the trunk on the Geistmobile to retrieve his precious cargo. On the street, he encounters businesspeople on lunch break—some stare openly; others don’t even notice his garish attire. “It’s easier in winter,” Geist says with a laugh. “Winter in Minnesota, everybody’s dressed weird.”
Finally, his destination is in sight: People Serving People, a local homeless shelter. Geist strides boldly into the lobby—a cramped, noisy room where kids and adults mill about chatting—and heaves his stuffed paper bags onto the counter. “I have some groceries to donate,” he tells Dean, the blond-bearded security guard on duty, whose placid expression suggests superheroes pop in on a regular basis. “And I have an hour on the meter if there’s anything I can do to help out.”
Wendy Darst, the volunteer coordinator, looks taken aback but gladly puts the superhero to work. Soon the Jade Justice finds himself hip-deep in a supply closet, piling books into a red Radio Flyer wagon. He wheels it back to the lobby, entreating the children to select a text. But the kids seem more interested in peppering him with questions. “So are you a cowboy or something?” one boy asks.
Geist kneels down to reply with a camera-ready grin, “Maybe a super-secret, space-cowboy detective!”
Another kid, awed by the uniform, just stares silently. “Hi,” Geist says with a smile, holding out his hand in greeting. “I’m a real-life superhero.”
The kid grabs Geist’s leather-clad mitt and grins back. “I’m four!”
Such is the life of Minnesota’s only superhero—a man in his mid-40s who sold off his comic book collection to fund a dream borne of those very pages. Unlike his fictional inspirations, he hasn’t yet found any villains to apprehend in Rochester, a sleepy city of 95,000 about 80 miles south of Minneapolis. But that doesn’t mean he’s wasting his time, he says. “When you put on this costume and you do something for someone, it’s like, ‘Wow, I am being a hero,’ and that is a great feeling.”
BY MOST OBSERVERS’ RECKONING, between 150 and 200 real-life superheroes, or “Reals” as some call themselves, operate in the United States, with another 50 or so donning the cowl internationally. These crusaders range in age from 15 to 50 and patrol cities from Indianapolis to Cambridgeshire, England. They create heroic identities with names like Black Arrow, Green Scorpion, and Mr. Silent, and wear bright Superman spandex or black ninja suits. Almost all share two traits in common: a love of comic books and a desire to improve their communities.
It’s rare to find more than a few superheroes operating in the same area, so as with all hobbies, a community has sprung up online. In February, a burly, black-and-green-clad New Jersey-based Real named Tothian started Heroes Network, a website he says functions “like the UN for the real-life superhero community.”
The foremost designer of real-life superhero costumes lives in New Brighton, Minnesota. His given name is Michael Brinatte, but he pro wrestles under the name Jack T. Ripper. At 6’2″, with bulldog shoulders, he looks more likely to suplex you than shake your hand. It’s hard to imagine him behind a sewing machine, carefully splicing together bits of shiny spandex, but when the 39-year-old father of three needed to give his wrestling persona a visual boost, that’s just where he found himself, drawing on his only formal tailoring education: seventh-grade home economics. He discovered he had a talent for it, and before long was sewing uniforms and masks for fellow wrestlers, learning techniques to make his work durable enough to withstand the rigors of hand-to-hand combat.
After he posted photos of his masks on the internet, he met his first real-life superhero: Entomo the Insect Man, a crimefighter and “masked detective” based in Naples, Italy. Entomo wanted Brinatte to make him a mask to incorporate into his black-and-olive uniform. A lifelong comic fan, Brinatte took the assignment seriously, and it showed in the stitching. When Entomo showed off his new mask to the community of Reals, Brinatte started getting more orders: a green-and-black bodysuit for Hardwire, a blue-and-white Z-emblazoned uniform for Zetaman. Eventually, Brinatte started a website,, to formalize his business, and now spends 10 to 15 hours each week making superhero uniforms. “They have a good heart and believe in what they’re doing, and they’re a lot of fun to talk to,” Brinatte says.
His super friends are starting to get publicity. Last October, an organization called Superheroes Anonymous issued an invitation to any and all real-life superheroes: Come to Times Square to meet other Reals face-to-face and discuss the future of the movement. The community roiled with discussion of the invitation—was it a trap by an as-yet-unknown real-life super villain? In the end, only a dozen Reals attended, but the gathering attracted the notice of the New York Times and the BBC, which gave the budding league of justice worldwide ink.
“We’re basically normal people who just find an unusual way to do something good,” Geist says. “Once you get suited up, you’re a hero and you’ve got to act like one.”
SO YOU’VE DECIDED to become a real-life superhero. Like Wolverine, you’ve chosen a secret identity and a uniform. But unlike the X-Man, you don’t have retractable claws or a mutant healing factor. How do you make up the difference?
Most Reals use a combination of martial arts and weaponry. The Eye is a 49-year-old crimebuster from Mountain View, California, who wears a Green Hornet-inspired fedora and trench coat. Though he focuses mainly on detective work and crime-tip reporting, he prepares himself for hand-to-hand combat by studying kung fu and wielding an arsenal of light-based weapons designed to dazzle enemies.
“In movies, a ninja will have some powder or smoke to throw at you to distract,” he explains. “That’s essentially what I’m trying to do.”
All superheroes have origins, and The Eye is no exception. He grew up tinkering with electronic gadgetry, first with his dad, then in the employ of a Silicon Valley company (he’s reluctant to say which one). The Eye considers himself “on-duty” at all times, so when a co-worker started pimping fake Rolex watches to others in his office, the Paragon of Perception sprang into action. He went into work early, snuck into the watch-monger’s office to locate the stash of counterfeit merchandise, and then dropped a dime to Crimestoppers. Ultimately, police wouldn’t prosecute unless The Eye revealed his secret identity—a concession he was unwilling to make—but he nonetheless chalks it up as a victory. “We stopped him from doing this,” The Eye says. “He knows someone’s watching.”
For sheer investment in gadgetry, none top Superhero, an ex-Navy powerlifter from Clearwater, Florida. His patrol vehicle is a burgundy 1975 Corvette Stingray with a souped-up 425-horsepower engine. He wears a flight helmet installed with a police scanner and video camera, and carries an extendable Cobra tactical baton, a flash gun, sonic grenades, and a canister of bear mace. Topping off the one-man armory is an Arma 100 stun cannon, a 37mm nitrogen-powered projectile device. His ammo of choice? Sandwiches. “Nothing stops them in their tracks like peanut butter and jelly,” he explains in a video demonstration posted online.
Once you’ve honed your body and strapped on your utility belt, it’s time to decide how to focus your heroic efforts. Within the community of Reals, there’s a buffet of choices. Some choose mundane tasks—The Cleanser strolls around picking up trash, while Direction Man helps lost tourists find where they’re going. Most Reals also lend their personages to charities, donating to food banks or organizing clothing drives.
Other Reals scoff at the idea of being a glorified Salvation Army bell-ringer and instead go looking for action. “I fight evil,” says Tothian, the New Jersey crimefighter who founded Heroes Network. “I don’t think picking up garbage is superheroic.”
Master Legend, a chrome-suited 41-year-old from Winter Park, Florida, patrols the streets looking for crimes in progress, and claims his efforts have paid off. “I’ve dumped garbage cans over crackheads’ heads, I slam their heads against the wall, whatever it takes,” the Silver Slugger says with bravado. “They try to hit me first, and then it’s time for Steel Toe City.”
IN 1986, ALAN MOORE RELEASED his magnum opus, Watchmen, a 12-issue comic series whose conceit was built on a simple premise: What would it be like if superheroes existed in real life? Besides helping to usher in a new age of “mature” graphic novels, the series foreshadowed some of the complications facing real-life superheroes today.
For instance: How to balance crime fighting with family life? Zetaman, a goateed, black-and-blue-clad Real hailing from Portland, Oregon, got married seven years go, but only recently started his career as a costumed crusader. He says his wife’s reaction to his new hobby was lukewarm—she made him promise not to go out at night, and told him to focus on charity work instead of fisticuffs. “She thinks it’s a phase,” he says with a laugh.
The media can be even less charitable, as Captain Jackson, a gray-and-yellow-suited hero from Michigan, discovered in October 2005. That’s when a headline appeared in the Jackson Citizen Patriot that could’ve been penned by J. Jonah Jameson himself: “Crime Fighter Busted for Drunk Driving.” The article unmasked Captain Jackson as Thomas Frankini, a 49-year-old factory worker who’d been arrested for driving with a blood-alcohol level of 0.135 percent. The story was picked up by the Detroit Free Press and Fox News. Frankini was devastated. “My patrol days are over, I’m afraid,” he said.
Unlike in the comics, real-life Commissioner Gordons rarely express gratitude for superheroes’ help. One evening when Master Legend was on patrol, he heard a woman scream and ran to investigate. But when he located the damsel in distress, she thought he was attacking her and called the cops. “They wanted to know if I was some kind of insane man, a 41-year-old man running around in a costume,” he recounts. “Apparently, they had never heard of me.”
Bernard, a sharp-featured, 33-year-old police detective from suburban Philadelphia who asked that his last name be withheld, has become something of a rabbi to the online community of Reals. When he first stumbled upon the phenomenon, he thought, “These people are nuts.” But as he learned more, he saw how the costumed do-gooders could make a difference. “They’re definitely committed, and their heart is in the right place.”
Most Reals are harmless enough, but Bernard worries about the bloodlust displayed by a small segment of the community. A recent thread on Heroes Network debated whether it was appropriate for a Real to carry a shotgun in his patrol vehicle. These aggressive Reals don’t realize how difficult it is to apprehend criminals in the real world, Bernard says. “It’s not like drug dealers stand around with quarter ounces of cocaine, throwing them in the air and saying ‘Here’s drugs for sale,'” he says. “Let’s imagine that one of them does come across a drug dealer, gives them a roundhouse kick to the head, and finds a whole bag of pot in his pocket. Nobody’s going to celebrate that. If anything, now you’re going to have a huge fiasco. Let’s face it—the world is complicated. You don’t solve anything by punching somebody.”
Rumor has it that a Real named Nostrum recently lost an eye in the line of duty, and some wonder if it will take a fatality to jolt the community out of its four-color fantasy. Wall Creeper, a 19-year-old who fights crime in Colorado, even seems to welcome the possibility. “To die doing something so noble would be the best thing to happen,” he says.
JIM WAYNE KEPT HIS EYE OUT in his hometown of Phoenix, Arizona—and the bald 40-year-old didn’t like what he saw. “Somewhere along the line we’ve stopped caring about each other and started caring about ourselves,” he says.
Two years ago, Wayne saw a commercial for Who Wants to Be a Superhero?—a reality show in which costumed contestants compete for the honor of starring in their own comic book—and something inside him clicked.
“Ever since I was a kid, if you asked any of my friends or family who they knew that should be a superhero, they’d probably say me,” he says.
Wayne dreamed up Citizen Prime, a persona patterned after his favorite comic book character, Captain America. “He, even more than Superman or Batman, epitomizes what a hero is: someone who stands up for their principles and goes out there to help people,” Wayne says. To bring his alter ego to life, Wayne spent $4,000 on custom-made armor—everything from a shiny chest plate to a bright yellow cape and a sloping steel helmet. “I made a commitment to make this and wear it and create this presence and see where that takes me,” he says.
Initially, it didn’t take him far. “There’s a reason why police are always coming after crimes,” he says. “It’s one of those fictions in comics when superheroes are walking down the street and hear a scream. I found out real quickly that patrolling for patrolling’s sake seems like a lost effort.”
That realization sparked a change in how he thought about his role. “I think even though there’s some fun to be had in the kick-ass aspect of comics, it’s fiction and fantasy and we know it,” he says. “As you translate those icons over to the real world, you have to face truths, such as violence begets violence.”
So Prime hung up the bulletproof vest and tactical baton and began volunteering for charity work. He teamed with Kids Defense, an organization aimed at protecting kids from internet predators, and allied with the Banner Desert Hospital pediatrics wing, offering to personally pick up toys from anyone who wanted to donate to the holiday drive. “I want to get people out there to create a presence in the community,” he says. “You make a presence of good in the community and the darker elements retreat.”
Recently, he started his own nonprofit called the League of Citizen Heroes. The organization, as he envisions it, will draw on an army of volunteers—both masked and unmasked—to contribute to the greater good. “That’s the level of sophistication that I think the movement’s moving towards,” he says, “We don’t have to just be patrolling the dark streets.”
Superhero, one of the first recruits to the League, shares Wayne’s dream, but is less philosophical when it comes to why, when all is said and done, he decided to put on a costume.
“I horse-shitted myself into thinking I was being a symbol for people and all that,” Superhero says. “But then I just faced the truth and admitted I do it ’cause it’s hella fun.”


Hardhitting news show DEADLINE! followed your favorite superheroes on a typical patrol. We kept Union Square safe and cleaned up the street, SLS style! Watch, laugh, and love! Check here for availability!
Here are the scheduled broadcasts of our feature:
Thu., Oct. 26th @ 11:00 PM ET
Sat., Oct. 28th @ 11:30 PM ET
Sun., Oct. 29th @ 6:00 PM ET
Tue., Oct. 31st @ 6:30 PM ET
-Captain Xavier Obvious