Tag new york city

It’s a bird! It’s a plane!! It’s … Squeegeeman and Captain Xavier Obvious?
That’s right. Squeegeeman and Captain Obvious are self-proclaimed superheroes — much like the Fantastic Four or the Amazing Spiderman, only they’re real people … and not that super.

Criminals and Pedestrians Beware!

They stalk the mean streets of New York City. Squeegeeman wields his squeegee of justice, squeegee gloves and squeegee grappling hook, while Captain Obvious uses his megaphone of truth through which he dispenses the obvious — his particular superpower.
“Usually, it’s just the sight of me that prevents people from doing crime. It’s like having a lot of cops around,” Squeegeeman explained.
Squeegeeman and Captain Obvious patrol New York in their superhero costumes, complete with capes, masks and, of course, their superpowers. And while they do claim to fight crime all the time, their primary objective is to do good deeds.
They hand out water when it’s hot, visit hospitals, plant trees and collect money for various causes like the AIDS walk.
According to Captain Obvious, we can all use a superhero or two in our life. “I can’t imagine a world without heroes. There is always good, and there is always bad, and they need heroes to pick people out of the bad and into the good.”
And apparently, being a superhero is a full-time job. It’s what they do. They wouldn’t reveal their identities to “Nightline,” nor would they disclose the location of their secret lair.

The Making of a Superhero

So how does one become a superhero? Spiderman, for example, got bitten by a spider. Superman came from Krypton, and the murder of his parents set Batman on his path. Was Squeegeeman attacked by an evil squeegee?
“No, really, I was kind of born with Supersqueegee abilities,” he explained. Captain Obvious said their motivation comes from instinct. “It’s right to do the good thing, and not enough people do good things, so we need to bring attention to doing the good things.”
Of course, all superheroes have their superweakness — their personal kryptonite that renders them powerless. Captain Obvious spoke of his nemesis — Indian food. “It’s oppressive,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t be laughing if we were eating Indian food!”
While there is an undeniable humor to these caped crusaders, the costumes, quips and props might be what it takes to be a hero in a modern-day metropolis like New York City. And as amusing as they may look, there is substance behind their spandex.

Every Superhero Has A Message

“My main concern is apathy,” said Squeegeeman. “I feel like in our modern society there is so much surrounding us every day, so many things going on … Xavier and we as Superheroes are trying to break the mundane. People go through life not caring, because there is so much going on. They don’t have a chance to see what’s really going on from day to day.”
So the villain — their arch-nemesis, you might say — is apathy. Captain Obvious said, “There is a lot of time we are walking down the street and people don’t even look. They are that indifferent … so what we are trying to do is bring attention to things that need that kind of attention. Good charities, good worthwhile causes.”
As with fictional superheroes, at their core is belief. They believe in their cause and are dedicated to their mission. So if late one night, you’re wandering through the dark streets of New York City and you see two caped men brandishing their squeegees and megaphones, never fear — they are there for your protection.

http://abcnews.go.com/Nightline/Story?id=3278889&page=1

John Soltes
2007/04/24
It’s a bird! It’s a plane! No, it’s people who call themselves real-life superheroes. They dress up, fight for justice and keep their identities secret.
It started out as a normal night. That is, until the bad guy started dancing like the devil in the pale moonlight.
Chris was minding his own business on the streets of Staten Island, N.Y., when he saw a man dash into a convenience store. The man sprinted through the aisles, trashing the place, then broke a glass bottle on the floor and brandished the shards as a makeshift knife.
Chris, coming to the rescue, cornered him in the aisle. While Chris kept the villain at bay, customers called the police.
That night, one of the most dangerous nights in his career, Chris truly earned the right to be called Chris Guardian.
Guardian, 23, who patrols the sidewalks and alleyways of New York City, is one of a small group of people around the world who call themselves real-life superheroes. Some do it for fun, as if Halloween were a yearlong celebration. But others, like Guardian, are dead serious about protecting life.
“I’ve always had something inside of me that made me want to really make a difference and just make the world a better place,” Guardian said recently during a discreet nighttime interview in a park in Manhattan’s Greenwich Village. “I always loved comic books and the idea of heroes out there. And I just said, ‘What the hell is stopping somebody from doing it?’”
When Guardian, a martial arts teacher who would not give his real name, first began patrolling New York at night, he was known as Dark Guardian. But recently he shed his old costume of a black mask with a painted-on smiley face and changed his name to Chris Guardian. He said the old costume was too weird for some people, while others didn’t pay attention.
“This is New York, so half the people didn’t even look,” said Guardian, who is having a new costume made up with the letters C.G. emblazoned on the front.
Guardian, like most superheroes, acts within the strictest sense of the law. “If I don’t have to put myself in danger, and the police can handle it, let the police handle it,” he said. “You know, I’m not going to do something stupid.”
Citizen Prime, a superhero based in Phoenix and a friend of Guardian, said there were many degrees of what a real-life superhero could do. A few stray into the vigilante role, taking the law into their own hands. But most, in the spirit of truth, justice and the American way, patrol the streets looking to help women and children.
“You don’t want to be standing on top of a building with your grappling hook ready to jump down on crack dealers,” Prime said. “That’s actually against the law.”
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.”
With villains often hard to come by, superheroes fill up their time by dispensing charity as well as justice.
Many superheroes offer food to the homeless, deliver toys to sick children, rescue motorists with flat tires or spend time in their own fortresses of solitude visiting the many online superhero communities.
One such site is the World Superhero Registry, run by Phoenix-based superhero Kevlex, whose name is a combination of Kevlar and spandex.
His Web site supplies information on some of the world’s most famous superheroes: Angle Grinder Man in England, who helps free illegally parked cars from the bonds of immobilization; Terrifica, a female superhero who saves the drunk women of Brooklyn from unseemly masculine advances; and Polar Man, a Canadian superhero who, well, shovels driveways and sidewalks for the elderly.
Kevlex, 47, patrols only once or twice a week, and even less in the summer because the hot Arizona sun makes his costume uncomfortable. (Apparently, being a superhero is both a gift and a curse.)
Kevlex says that when he does go out, disguising his true identity is still necessary, even if he does nothing illegal. When he is in costume, bad guys “can’t tell which areas are protective gear and which areas their bullets would just slide right through,” he said.
Though, to be honest, Kevlex said he has never been in a situation with bullets. “The area that I’m in isn’t that dangerous,” he admitted.
Tothian, 22, 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.
“That name chose me, I feel,” he said. “I am adding definition through the name, through my actions, my words and everything that I do.”
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.
“Heroes are real, so superheroes are just heroes who are really super at it,” he said. “The world is constantly crying out in need of superheroes, and I’m giving them one.”
E-mail: [email protected]
HOW SECRET ARE THOSE SUPERHERO IDENTITIES?
Real-life superheroes may be secretive about their identity, but they certainly welcome e-mail messages and visits to their MySpace pages. On the Web, many superheroes like Chris Guardian and Tothian show their real faces. Others, like Citizen Prime (myspace.com/paragonprime), wear elaborate masks.
Even so, meeting up with a superhero is challenging.
When setting up a rendezvous, they tend to prefer nighttime visits. You will be given a place to meet, like Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village, and told to call a cell phone number at precisely 10:30 p.m. No other details will be given. When you’re waiting for the clock to strike the half hour, you constantly check over your shoulder, knowing that the superhero has already been tracking your every move.
Once 10:30 rolls around, you call your hero, only to get a response like, “I’m walking up to you right now. I’m bald and wearing a leather jacket.”
Other superheroes avoid direct contact with the media. Squeegeeman and Captain Xavier Obvious work through their press person, Peter Magellan, who leaves messages on cell phones in an Australian accent that may or may not be authentic. When Squeegeeman himself leaves a message, the call is from a restricted number, and the superhero talks in a high-pitched voice that sounds, well, like a squeegee.
E-mails are no better. Squeegeeman’s messages are punctuated frequently by a squeegee adjective: “Have a squeegeerific day!!!”

Citizen Prime and Green Scorpion can’t stop bullets with their hands or see through walls. They don’t have archenemies, and they’re not crippled by Kryptonite. They do, however, don costumes and patrol the streets of Phoenix, looking for wrongs to right and helpless to help. Some call them freaks. Other call them heroes.
Phoenix Magazine PDF File
March 2007
By Dan Rafter
Citizen prime can’t stick to walls or shoot webs from his wrist. He can’t jump over a building or sprint faster than a locomotive. Don’t bet on him to life an elephant over his head, either.
On the plus side, Citizen Prime could juggle handfuls of green kryptonite- if such material really existed- without suffering even the hint of a stomachache. And so far, not a single super-powered villain has threatened to roast him with a fire breath or zap him with lighting bolts.
To sum it up, Citizen Prime has no superpowers, no super-villain archenemies, and no super-weaknesses- unless you count bullets, knives, baseball bats, bricks or anything else that might cause physical damage to an ordinary human.
Sounds pretty much like a regular guy, right? Not so fast, Citizen Prime is a superhero, a real-life superhero. He wears a costume- black body armor and a similarly- colored helmet with a dark visor- and patrols the night streets of Phoenix, looking for wrongs to right. He has a secret identity, too. Few people, he says, know the name of the man behind that dark visor.
Citizen Prim might seem like a strange fellow, but he’s not alone, in the Phoenix area or around the country. A growing number of people- men and women, young and old, living in big cities and small towns, are donning homemade costumes and taking to the streets of their own communities. Some are out to stop crimes. Others provide comfort- blankets, clothing and food- to the homeless. Some erase graffiti or pick up litter. Others try to stop bar fights from getting out of hand.
And that’s just the beginning of these heroes’ specialties. At least one- New York City’s Terrifica, with her blonde wig and golden mask- wears pink tights, sips Shirley Temples, in bars and tries to stop young women from tumbling into alcohol- fueled one-night stands. Another, calling himself Polar Man, grabs a shovel and clears snow from the sidewalks of the elderly. Polar Man lives up north in Canada, so you understand the heroism in his actions.
The real-life superhero community, then, is a varied lot. But Citizen Prim says its members have at least one thing in common: They’re somehow trying to make a difference.
“Anyone can be a hero,” he says. “That is what Citizen Prime is really all about. Even if you don’t ever put on a costume, you can be out there making the streets a safer place. There are so many more of us good people than there are gangsters or criminals. There are so many more of us than there are bad people. All we need is civic pride and brotherhood, and we can take back the streets. We won’t have to figure out anymore what shade of fear we are today.”
Are folks like Citizen Prime- or Green Scorpion, Dark Guardian or Mr. Silent, other members of the real-life superhero brigade- at the forefront of a new trend? Can they make a real difference in their communities? Citizen Prime thinks so. And if you disagree? He doesn’t really care.
BIRTH OF A HERO
Citizen Prime as been patrolling the Phoenix streets for about seven months. Becoming a superhero, though, wasn’t a decision he made lightly. For six months prior to his first patrols, Prime researched the real-life superhero community, logging on to sites such as the World Superhero Registry (worldsuperheroregistry.com), which list profiles of real-life masked adventurers and crime-fighting groups across the country.
Prime liked what he saw. There was something inspiring about the passion displayed by heroes like Mr. Silent and Doktor DiscorD, two real-life superheroes who have become semi-famous for their work in Indianapolis. There real-life superheroes he read about weren’t complaining about the way things were. They were trying to make a change, even if that meant simply picking up litter or helping a homeless person cross a busy street.
When Prime’s on patrol, he isn’t looking for trouble. Don’t expect to see his name in the morning papers along with photos of a foiled bank robbery. Bullets don’t bounce off his chest, so Citizen Prime isn’t likely to tackle a gang of armed criminals. He’s far more likely to hit the streets with a car stuffed full of blankets and clothing to pass out to homeless men and women. He might call the police after spotting a drunk driver weaving down the Phoenix streets, or he might stop to chat with some youngsters about the value of doing good deeds.
Fist fights and karate chops? They’re rarely on Prime’s agenda.
The way he sees it, it’s far more important to serve as a source for hope that it is to get the snot kicked out of him during a brawl in a dark alley.
“We’re not standing on the rooftops, grappling hooks at the ready. But we are trying to make a difference. We’re sort of like the Guardian Angels on steroids.” Citizen Prime says.
Not having superpowers, of course, means that superheroes such as Prime have to make do with what they have. So, while Superman soars above the skies of Metropolis and Spider-Man swings from skyscraper to skyscraper in New York City, Citizen Prime relies on his car to get around. It’s easier to cover a lot of ground that way.
A typical patrol for Prime goes something like this: Late last fall, he was driving into the Phoenix when he spotted a car weaving on the road. It looked like a drink driver, so Prime picked up his cell phone and called the highway patrol, reporting the care and its license plate number. Less than a minute later, a patrol car zipped past him and pulled the drunk driver over.
Not heroic? Maybe it is, and maybe it’s not, but how often do drivers simply ignore the signs of an impaired motorist? And if Prime hadn’t dialed those numbers, who’s to say that the erratic driver, drunk or not, wouldn’t have cause a serious accident?
Another night, Citizen Prime noticed some suspicious individuals scoping out cars in a dark parking lot. Prime pulled into the lot with his parking lights on. He remained there until the suspicious individuals fled the scene.
And, not as dramatic as defusing a bomb or tossing a mugger into a dumpster, but the way Prime sees it, his presence might have stopped a crime.
“That’s what we’re like- we are big, red sirens,” he says. “Sometimes, it’s just about being present, and not being afraid to remain present, to stop someone from even committing a crime in the first place.”
A SECRET LIFE, NOT-SO-SECRET PROBLEMS
Prime is open about his life about a superhero. He’s not as forthcoming about his true identity, however. He won’t give out his real name, and says that few people know how he spends his evenings when he’s not patrolling the streets.
He is married, though, and his wife knows all about Citizen Prime. Surprisingly, she approves of her husband’s evening adventures.
Green Scorpion, another local real-life superheroes, is even more tight-lipped about his real identity. He makes sure as few people as possible know who he really is.
“I don’t share my superhero identity much,” he writes in an e-mail message, his preferred method of communication. “Most people thing we are nuts or joking.”
The Green Scorpion, though, isn’t joking. And that’s a point he and the other men and women who call themselves real-life superheroes stress: they’re not dressing up for kicks- well maybe just a little- but to help others.
The Green Scorpion is another masked adventurer working in Phoenix. He has his own tagline- “Evildoers, beware the sting of the Green Scorpion!”- that he includes on his MySpace page and in all of his e-mail messages. And his costume is pretty impressive- a trench coat, ultra- creepy mask and wide- brimmed hat.
Green Scorpion and Citizen Prime, however, do have something in common: Sometimes superheroes’ real lives collide with their masked lives.
Take for example, Ragensi, a 23-year- old real-life superhero who works in Huntington Beach, California. On patrol early last October, he realized that his cupboards at home were bare. Like any shopper, he ducked into a nearby supermarket to pick up some last-minute groceries. Ragensi, though, had to do his shopping in full costume, and although it was October, it wasn’t close enough to Halloween for costume-party time.
To understand this fully, it’s important to picture Ragensi’s costume. It’s no happy, day-glo superhero outfit. Think Batman, not Superman. Ragensi looks much like a ninja, clad in all black with his fingerless gloves and a dark scarf-like swath of fabric hiding all of his face except his eyes. And those eyes are creepy, highlighted by dark makeup. It gives Ragensi the permanent wide-open stare of someone who’s missing a few marbles. But when Ragensi stepped into his local market, no one, surprisingly, made a peep. No pointed fingers, no gasps and not a single, “Look at that!”
On his MySpace blog, Ragensi mentions that he felt almost invisible. This story is located next to a series of photos showing the masked adventurer pushing his shopping cart though the store’s aisles. In one shot, Ragensi proudly holds in his gloved hands a bag of Johnny Cat kitty litter. The effect is both unsettling and comical.
Balancing two lives isn’t the only challenge real-life superheroes face. They also have to deal with the difficulties of designing the perfect costume- it not only has to symbolize what a hero stands for, but it also must be functional. Accomplishing both tasks isn’t as easy as it sounds.
In the comics, this looks simple. Superman slips into a phone booth. Iron Man snaps on his metal suit. But in real life, things get complicated.
Ghost, a member of the Black Monday Society, a group of real-life superheroes based in Salt Lake City, knows all about costume hassles. On a MySpace blog dedicated to the exploits of the society, Ghost’s partner, Ferox, writes that the hero is still experimenting with his mask. The Reason? It’s difficult to take a much-needed coffee break when your superhero mask covers your entire face.
Ferox, too, has had his fair share of costume problems. In a phone interview, Ferox reveals that he originally called himself American Corpse and wore a costume that featured a gas mask. Turns out, the local police didn’t appreciate the look, especially after the events of September 11, 2001.
All of which raises an obvious question: Why do real-life superheroes need a costume at all? Can’t they simply do their good deeds, or run patrols, in street clothes? Dark Guardian, a real-life superhero based out of New York City who dresses in a black-and-white costume complete with a dark mask, has an answer:
“It’s about being an icon,” he says. “When you’re walking around doing stuff as a regular guy, people won’t notice you as much. They won’t take a second look. They see a guy dressed like me and they wonder what’s going on. It helps spread our message.”
AN ONLINE HEADQUARTERS
All good superheroes need a headquarters. Batman had his Bat Cave, Superman his Fortress of Solitude. Real-life superheroes have the World Superhero Registry. The site features profiles of dozens of real-life superheroes, from New York City to Los Angeles. It includes information about superhero teams- thing Justice League or Super Friends- groups like the Moonlight Club, Black Monday Society or Boise Brigade.
And when a superhero just needs to talk, there’s an online forum. The forum has hosted discussions on the best form of martial arts for a superhero (one member suggested Krav Maga, the official self-defense system used by the Israeli Defense Forces); the feasibility and concerns of developing a jet pack capable of lifting a human into the air (it might lift a superhero, but how would the hero gain enough control over the pack to fly accurately?); the best diet for a superhero; and the possibility of developing special gloves that shoot pepper spray.
The World Superhero Registry is the brainchild of Kevlex, a part-time, real-life superhero based in Flagstaff.
Kevlex says that the site was a natural for him. He has obvious computer skills, and he’s long been fascinated by the possibility that ordinary people could perform super-heroic feats. As a high school student, Kevlex- a name that comes from the combination of Kevlar body armor and spandex- would wander the halls of his school with a mask hidden on him, in case any danger popped up. He never had the opportunity to don that mask, but, he says, he never lost his passion for real-life superheroes.
Running the World Superhero Registry and going out on patrols maybe two times a month hasn’t imposed on much on Kevlex’s real life. He won’t give out his real name, but he does offer that he’s 40 years old and does have a real job.
Like other real-life superheroes, Kevlex isn’t surprise that men and women across the country are putting on masks and capes and patrolling the streets. He’s more surprised, he says, that there aren’t more people like him.
“I was surprise initially that something like this hadn’t occurred previously,” he says. “We have everything from radical terrorists to people who live in complete silence in monasteries. We have every extreme possible out there. The superhero archetype is so in the public consciousness that you’d think there would be people out there doing this long ago.”
NO PAIN, NO GAIN?
It’s hard to think about becoming a superhero without thinking about pain. Even the most skilled heroes in the comics get beat up nearly every day. That’s not much fun. Local adventurer Green Scorpion, who won’t go into details about his escapades, says that at times he has gone home with nasty injuries following his patrols.
“I have encountered property crimes, theft and assault,” Green Scorpion writes via e-mail. “I have ended up with some wicked bruises, and have come home limping a time or two. I don’t worry about getting hurt, though. I wear protective gear, and do not let myself get backed into corners.”
While Ragensi out in California spends most of his time as a superhero delivering blankets and hot coffee to the homeless or dropping off bags of toys to a nearby children’s hospital, he has occasionally stumbled upon more serious matters. Once, he says, he stopped and attempted mugging in a part, and had to tie the mugger’s hands to a lamppost.
Is Ragensi ever worried that he might get hurt?
“The thought does cross my mind from time to time,” he says. “The way I see it, though, is that you can get hurt in a lot of professions. Physical danger is just a reality of life, even for those who do their best to avoid it. Not that I’m saying I’m going to be stupid and rush into a dangerous situation without a care in the world. I’m just not going to let fears hold me back from living my life to the fullest.”
So, how long is the lifespan of a real-life superhero? Can we expect to see Ragensi as a 50-year-old man tying muggers to street lamps? And what about Green Scorpion? Will he be willing to sustain those bumps and bruise once he’s approaching mid-life crisis time? And if these heroes retire, will other real-life heroes take their places?
That’s hard to say. But the blogs written by these masked adventurers do offer hints that nighttime patrols and costume making aren’t necessarily all fun and games.
Several heroes have written about falling into funks, when patrols don’t offer the same thrill. Others have requested that Kevlex remove their names from the World Superhero Registry, explaining that they’re taking leaves of absences.
But Citizen Prime shows no sign of retiring from the hero life. Patrols still give him a rush, and he’s even working on creating a new superhero community, WHO, which stands for Worldwide Heroes, although, at press time, this project was place on the backburner.
“I don’t find it very hard at all to do this,” says Citizen Prime. “I don have a normal life and a normal job. But this really enhances the rest my life. I am always on patrol, even when I’m not in uniform. If I see something like a guy yelling at his wife in a dark parking lot, I’ll roll down my window to see whether I can help defuse the situation.
Really, Citizen Prime is just an extension of that.” -Dan Rafter lives in St. Charles, Illinois. He can be reached at
[email protected]

by Dan Rafter
Be worried, people of Boise. Be very worried.
You are not protected.
Sure, the police are still there to handle your pickpockets, muggers, thieves and robbers. But what if a supervillain drops out of the sky, shooting lightning bolts from his fingertips? What if a nuclear bomb comes rushing through downtown? Who’s going to stop it now that the Boise Brigade is out of action?
Yes, the news is true: The Boise Brigade is on hiatus, at the very least. When will they return to patrol the city’s streets? No one knows. The Boise Brigade, that team of real-life superheroes who vowed to protect the city, is officially in training.
Wait. You don’t know what the Boise Brigade is? You’ve never heard of Nightfall or Exemplar or Freya? The Boise Brigade is a team of real-life superheroes.
The Brigade’s members can’t fly, turn invisible, lift battleships over their heads or spit fire. But they still consider themselves superheroes. And they’re far from alone. An entire community of adventurers, located everywhere from Wisconsin to Phoenix, from Los Angeles to New York City, call themselves real-life superheroes. With names like Dark Guardian, Citizen Prime, Ferox and Mr. Silent, they dress in costumes–using masks and capes and body armor, silver canes, bowler hats, whatever’s around–and patrol the streets of their cities, looking for crimes to stop and people to help.
It sounds like fiction, but it’s real. Just log on to the World Superhero Registry at www.worldsuperheroregistry.com, to find a list.
Here’s how Nightfall describes himself on his MySpace page: “To the bad people, I’m that thing that hides in the shadows that we’re all afraid of, and to the good people I’m the protector that looks over them when they walk home alone at night.”
But, where are they? What are these real-life heroes doing to protect the citizens of Boise?
Who knows? The Brigade declined the opportunity to be interviewed for this story. In an e-mail message, Nightfall reported that the team may not yet be ready to tackle its lofty mission. He cited the group members’ ages–they are all fairly young–and the fact that they are still training to be superheroes. They are also questioning, Nightfall says, whether Boise even needs real-life superheroes.
Does this mean that Boise is on its own? It’s hard to tell; Nightfall did not respond to an e-mail message asking for more information. There is some hope, though, that the brigade is not on a permanent break: Nightfall promised an interview with BW in the future, when the group is more certain of how it will operate or if it is even needed.
If the group is interested in learning the challenges and rewards of being a real-life superhero, they can always speak with more veteran members of the community.
Mr. Silent and Doktor DiscorD have been patrolling the streets of Indianapolis, sometimes together, sometimes alone, for more than a year. They’ve become local celebrities, with Mr. Silent and his silver mask, black bowler hat, white gloves and trademark cane, becoming an especially common sight in Indianapolis’ magazines and newspapers and on local TV stations.
“Most people my age, when boredom comes on, they decide to hang out with friends, go drinking, see a show or something like that,” Doktor DiscorD says. “I felt like doing something different. Not only could I alleviate my boredom in a novel way, I could also help people.”
Just because he’s a superhero doesn’t mean Doktor DiscorD is a saint. He admits this: Early in a phone interview, he needs to take a quick break to find and light a cigarette.
“Yeah, I’m no Superman,” he says.
That applies to busting up criminals, too. Like most of the real-life superheroes out there–the sane ones, at least–Doktor DiscorD would rather help than fight. To see the truth in this, check out the blogs written by most real-life supeheroes. Most are clustered on MySpace. Most patrols consist of little more than superheroes chatting with residents, helping people who are lost or even refilling the plastic baggies in those doggie-doo boxes in public parks.
But while 99 percent of patrols are quiet, there are exceptions. Mr. Silent, for example, earlier this year stopped a domestic violence situation from getting out of hand. He spotted a man and woman arguing outside a bar on a busy September night. The man angrily threw the woman against a brick wall. That was all Mr. Silent needed to see.
He leapt between the man and woman, brandishing his silver cane. The man screamed at him to leave. Mr. Silent didn’t budge. The man got angrier. Mr. Silent still didn’t flinch.
That’s when the cops showed up, and carted the angry man away.
On his blog, Mr. Silent wrote about shaking with adrenaline as he left the scene. He also wrote about how unimpressed the police were with his mask and outfit. They thanked him for his help and then went about their business.
“They acted as though they always see superheroes,” Mr. Silent wrote.
Supherhero, from Clearwater, Florida, agrees that a real-life superhero should concentrate on public service, not crime fighting. Superhero is far more interested in doing good deeds–while wearing his red-and-blue costume, complete with a yellow belt emblazoned with the initials “SH” on it–than he is in jumping in the middle of gang fights. This December, he donated 200 toys to a children’s hospital.
“This is an exciting life,” Superhero says. “You can’t tell me it’s not. And I’m lucky that my girlfriend thinks it’s great, too. She zips up my suit and sends me out the door when I’m ready to patrol.”
There is hope, then, for the Boise Brigade. Once they finish their training and figure out their place in the city, maybe you’ll see them in the shadows, watching for trouble, for people in need.
If you can’t wait, move to Canada. You might run into Polar Man, a real-life superhero whose mission includes shoveling snow from the sidewalks of the elderly. You can go to New York City, too, where you might meet Terrifica, dressed in pink with a flowing blonde wig. She sits in New York City bars, usually drinking Shirley Temples, and does her best to prevent tipsy women from entering into regrettable one-night stands. She’s known among some people in the superhero community as a “super cockblocker.”
In the words of Citizen Prime, a real-life hero based in Phoenix, Arizona, it doesn’t take anything more powerful than conviction to don the superhero title:
“My biggest gripe on how we remade our world after September 11 is that we’re now always wondering what shade of afraid we are today,” Prime says. “We might have lost track of how to enjoy living. That’s one thing we can focus on as citizens and superheroes. Enjoy the time we’re given here. You might exist living your house and watching the 10 o’clock news afraid there’s going to be a shootings as soon as you drive the Buick out of the driveway. But life isn’t drab and dreary and boring. It’s exciting and bold and fun. We want to inspire our fellow citizens by engaging in good deeds. That’s what it’s about.”
http://www.boiseweekly.com/boise/an-unprotected-city/Content?oid=930551

SQUEEGEE-GREETINGS SQUEEGEE-FANS!!! I JUST WANTED TO GIVE YOU BRIEF UPDATE ON ONE OF MY FAVORITE HOLIDAYS! TODAY, IF YOU DIDN’T KNOW, IS HALLOWEEN. I WAS A MILD MANNERED REPORTER THIS YEAR. I SQUEEGEE-PATROLLED SEVERAL BUSY AREAS OF THE CITY IN COSTUME- INCLUDING THE HALLOWEEN PARADE FROM SOHO TO CHELSEA. THERE WASN’T REALLY ANY CRIME, BUT THERE WAS A TON OF GRIME. I SPENT A LITTLE WHILE CLEANING SECTIONS OF THE PARADE ROUTE. AFTER I HAD CLEANED A FEW BLOCKS, I NOTICED IT WAS DIFFICULT TO FIND A RECEPTACLE, AND THE LITTER SEEMED TO BE NON-STOP, SO I GAVE UP THAT PURSUIT. THE CITY WILL HAVE EVERYTHING CLEANED UP BY MORNING ANYWAY. THAT WAS SQUEEGEE-MUCH IT TO MY NIGHT. MORE VIDEO BLOGS COMING SOON. UNTIL NEXT SQUEEGEE-TIME, SQUEEGEE-LATER.
SQUEEGEEMAN
 

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
ENJOY!
-Captain Xavier Obvious
 
 

Good old SBC tech support. No phone, no internet, but I’m “back in business” (internet-wise). I got the impression from a few messages I got that some folks thought thier “friendly neighborhood stupor-hero” (dubbed by a buddy of mine who remembers my past non-stop drunken adventures) was farther away than I really was.
Maybe my INTERNET went away for a while, but The Windy City sure as hell didn’t…and neither did I >:) Bein that I have never owned a cell-phone in my life, but bein hooked on the internet for the last 10 years, it’s crazy to see how much regular social networking has changed. I had begun to take for granted how much I depend on the ‘net. Funny huh?
Somethin to think about when you’re organizing w/ your comrades.
Respect.
~X
 

On a recent evening, Tothian, Squeegee Man and Dark Guardian are whisking up the West Side in their heromobile to Port Authority. Their mission is to bring help—in the form of water, granola bars and blankets—to the neighborhood’s homeless. Among bewildered shouts of “Thanks, man!” and “Yo! Is it Halloween already?!?,” the costumed crusaders distribute their goods and speed off into the night.
The three, who met on MySpace, often work independently and don’t even know each other’s real names. Squeegee Man, 26, who carries his signature implement on his belt, wears a uniform that some confuse with Superman’s, but as he indignantly reminds us, his underwear is on the inside. “I fight crime and grime,” he says. “I pick up trash, give things to the homeless and help old ladies cross the street—y’know, regular superhero stuff.” Meanwhile, Dark Guardian, 22—whose bulletproof mask has a smile drawn on it—and the 21-year-old Tothian (who won’t disclose his name’s origin for fear of revealing his secret identity) patrol bad neighborhoods in NYC and New Jersey. So far they’ve avoided brushes with real danger. “I haven’t saved anyone yet, but I’ve reported drug dealers and gambling dens to the police,” Dark Guardian says.
The superheroes take pleasure in the high-profile nature of doing good deeds in costume. “It’s in hopes of inspiring people to make the world a better place,” explains the Guardian. But the romantic returns of being a masked savior have been disappointing. “I’ve only had one girlfriend in my life,” admits Tothian. “Yeah,” snorts Squeegee Man. “And her name was Lady Invisible.” —Kate Lowenstein
For more info, go to superleagueofsuperheroes.com.

Miss Amazing is a masked superhero from the Lowell, Ma area. She has kept a low profile for the last five or so years while working behind the scenes to bring about changes in her city. She patrols mostly at night at different times and has made numerous calls to the police to stop crimes that are in progress.
This coming year she will be taking a more active role in her community and even taking more of a stand by actively stopping crime as it happens herself. She has numerous protective devises that are being added to her uniform and will be out and about even in early evening hours when the most happens with muggings and other trouble that are caused by the youth of her community.
 

SQUEEGEE-GREETINGS CITIZENS, AND LEGAL RESIDENTS, …AND ILLEGAL ALIENS!!! I AM SQUEEGEEMAN!!! NEW YORK CITY’S REAL LIFE SUPERHERO!!!
WHILE IN POTSDAM, NEW YORK, I WAS LEADER OF THE SUPER LEAGUE OF SUPER FRIENDS, AND PROTECTOR AGAINST CRIME AND GRIME!!! HOWEVER, THE SUPER LEAGUE OF SUPER FRIENDS DISBANDED IN 2003 WHEN EACH TEAM MEMBER MOVED TO A DIFFERENT PART OF NEW YORK STATE. I MOVED TO NEW YORK CITY TO FIGHT FOR SQUEEGEE-TRUTH, SQUEEGEE-JUSTICE, AND THE SQUEEGEE-WAY!!!
MY SQUEEGEE-GOOD DEEDS SQUEEGEE-INCLUDE: HYDRATING THE HOMELESS, KEEPING THE STREETS CLEAN OF GRIME, PREVENTING ENERGY WASTAGE, AND DEFEATING THE OCCASIONAL SUPER VILLAIN. RECENTLY MY SUPERHERO FRIEND CAPTAIN OBVIOUS AND I HAVE FORMED A NEW TEAM- THE SUPER LEAGUE OF SUPERHEROES!!!
FEAR NOT SQUEEGEE-FANS SQUEEGEEMAN IS HERE!!!
SQUEEGEEMAN