Tag world superhero registry

O'CONNELL: Twin Cities super heroes

When I first heard about these so called “Real Life Super Heroes” I have to admit I was a little skeptical. I was never interested in comic books but I had this idea of adult men in funny costumes who thought they had super powers. I found out they actually do have super powers. Powers of giving. Powers of community.

Through Myspace I connected with a man called “Geist-The Emerald Cowboy”. He responded to me but when he wouldn’t give me his real name or phone number because of “security reasons”-I knew he was serious. That made our meeting even more intriguing. I spent last Saturday night with 4 members of the Great Lakes Super Heroes Guild. A loose network of anonymous do gooders. Real Life Super Heroes or “Reals” go around doing random acts of kindness and good deeds for strangers. They also show up at charity events, fundraisers and homeless shelters to lend a hand. The twist is: they do it dressed in custom made disguises. Each has their own persona, costume and favorite causes. There are about 200 “Real Life Super Heroes” around the country.

Although they do pack non-lethal weapons, they don’t come across much street crime. I can tell you by spending 3 hours with them is they sure get people talking and more importantly, thinking about helping your community… Certainly heroes in my book.
For more information click
Click play in the video viewer above to watch the story.
www.worldsuperheroregistry.com
http://kstp.com/article/stories/s849977.shtml?cat=10143

Capeless crusaders

HAYLEY MICK

From Friday’s Globe and Mail

His transformation into Vancouver’s dark knight begins in the shadows, after a long day’s work and when his 12-year-old daughter is asleep.
First he puts on the knee pads and protective vest; last is the skeleton mask. Before stepping out the door, he grabs a bag of marbles to trip a foe in hot pursuit. “Old martial-arts trick,” he says.
Clad in all black, cape billowing as he prowls the streets looking for trouble, he is no longer a 60-year-old father and husband who fought in Vietnam before becoming a delivery man with a college degree.
He is Thanatos: sworn enemy of drug dealers, gangsters and thieves, and one of a growing number of real-life superheroes.
“We are out there for the people to do good,” he says. “And we’re real.”
A year ago, Thanatos donned his mask for the first time and joined a network of crusaders patrolling their towns and cities across Canada and the United States. He posted his photo on MySpace and introduced himself: “I am fighting a war for good against evil,” he wrote. Soon he was on regular nighttime reconnaissance missions, he says, tailing bad guys, gathering evidence and passing tidbits on to police.
Like most real-life superheroes, Thanatos keeps his true identity a secret. What he will say: “I’m not a fat kid in his mom’s basement or some geek living out a fantasy.”
Hundreds more similarly caped crusaders are listed on the World Superhero Registry, a roster assembled about five years ago that includes the names of more than 200 crime fighters from Hong Kong to Michigan, even Nunavut.
This new breed of superheroes adore graphic novels, can’t wait for Watchmen to hit theatres and are mostly men. Among them are friends of the homeless (Shadow Hare), animal activists (Black Arrow), sworn enemies of Osama bin Laden (Tohian) and one who shovels the front walks of Nunavut’s seniors (Polar Man).
Most patrol the streets alone, but they have vibrant social lives on the Internet. On website forums such as the Heroes Network, they swap tactics on uniforms (should I wear ballistic protection?), patrolling tips (how should I respond to a casual drug user?) and what to wear. “I don’t wear spandex, for a variety of reasons,” says Chaim Lazaros, 24, a superhero called Life from New York.
They are united in a mission to fight criminals and make the world a better place. The growing community is divided, however, over how that mission should be accomplished.
Some want to fight bad guys vigilante-style, remaining in the shadows and adding a caped wing to their city’s law-enforcement ranks. “I’m prepared to make citizen’s arrests if necessary,” writes Geist, a superhero from Minnesota, on his Web page. But others advocate a high-profile existence, helping the less fortunate through established non-profit organizations.
The difference in philosophies often results in heated arguments, says Phantom Zero – also known as a 32-year-old call-centre worker from Lindenhurst, N.Y.
“There are people who hate me online. Because they pretty much think they’re psychic. Or they have superpowers. They think they’re hard-core vigilantes and they don’t like people who do charitable acts.”
Thanatos has seen arguments erupt over whether real-life superheroes should carry weapons, which he is against. “This is not the movies,” Thanatos says. “You can’t leave the guy tied up on the police’s doorstep like Batman. That will not hold up in court.”
When Phantom Zero first went out on patrol, he kept an open mind. Inspired by what he had read about the superhero movement online, he donned a black outfit, a hood and white mask, then set out looking for trouble. He wasn’t prepared to “punch someone in the face,” he says, but had his cellphone ready to take pictures or call police.
“I never came across crimes worse than public drunkenness and urination,” he says. It got worse when he took a job in the peaceful suburbs.
Phantom Zero concluded that “vigilantism is moot.” After that he connected with a group of superheroes who focus on things such as helping the homeless and raising money for children’s hospitals.
One of the more high-profile proponents of this type of work is Mr. Lazaros, co-founder of a group called Superheroes Anonymous. Their coming-out moment happened in October, 2007, when he summoned a group to New York. Decked out in masks and capes, they picked up trash in Times Square and handed out crime-prevention literature. “It was awesome,” he said.
Last year, his league of heroes took a road trip to New Orleans to participate in a Habitat for Humanity project, hammering away in their costumes. Mr. Lazaros plans to make Superheroes Anonymous a registered charity.
Thanatos says he falls somewhere in the middle of the two extremes. He raises money for groups such as the Easter Seals, and every month distributes care packages stuffed with flashlights, food and plastic sheeting to homeless people, which makes his daughter proud.
But he also wants to bring “wrongdoers” to justice by acting as an extra set of eyes and ears for police. Using tools in his “crime kit,” he picks up evidence with tweezers and stores it in sterilized plastic containers. His wife, who goes by the name Lady Catacomb, trails behind with a video camera to document any scuffles (there haven’t been any to date).
Staff Sgt. Ruben Sorge, who heads up the division that covers the downtown Eastside where Thanatos often patrols, says he’s never heard of the superhero. But any citizen who’s willing to dole out food and supplies to the homeless is welcome on his beat, he said. And he encourages reports of violence or crime, “no matter what the person’s wearing.”
Real-life superheroes are often asked why they don’t just do good deeds without the costume or masks, and each has his own answer.
Phantom Zero says anyone can help the homeless, but in a costume you attract attention.
Mr. Lazaros agrees, adding it makes him feel more responsible. “It’s like, okay, now I’m a superhero,” he says. “Now I have to embody these ideals.”
For Thanatos, his identity should be irrelevant. “What I do is much more important than who I am.”
If you could have a superpower…
Come on. You know you’ve thought about it. Would you scale buildings? Soar the skies? Turn invisible? Read minds? Exude super charisma? Which power do you covet most? Weigh in here .
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/article968643.ece

Watchman State

Long before Barack Obama incited our movie stars to give up plastic grocery bags in the name of a more righteous America, long before Rick Warren persuaded millions of spiritual seekers to fill their lives with purpose, a growing number of lower profile yet visually arresting altruists began serving their fellow citizens by taking on local thugs, helping stranding motorists, volunteering at soup kitchens and homeless shelters, and participating in blood drives. They call themselves Real Life Superheroes, or Reals for short, and as their name suggests, their inspiration comes not from elected officials, religion, or the Kiwanis Club, but rather Batman, Spider-man, and the countless other icons of spandex-clad virtue who populate our supposedly meaningless and morally corrosive pop culture.

According to the creators of the World Superhero Registry, an online forum and resource center where freelance crusaders network and exchange ideas, an individual who wears a costume, performs heroic deeds, and is not functioning as a paid representative of any organization are the primary characteristics of a Real Life Superhero. Some explicitly position themselves as vigilante interventionists eager to protect their neighborhoods from bad guys; others imitate their comic-book role models in a more metaphorical sense, applying their standards of justice and social responsibility to various community service efforts. They go by names like Fox Fire, Civitron, and Knight Owl, and at least one of them, Superbarrio, an international crimefighter whose domain is Mexico City, has been plying his trade since the 1980s.

Recent feature stories on Reals in Rolling Stone and the Sunday Times have led to a flurry of interest, but much of the media coverage has exhibited a mocking tone, focusing on the ways in which Reals do not quite live up to their better equipped and more physically impressive fictional counterparts. The Sunday Times piece, for example, opens with an anecdote in which one Real is reconsidering his avocation after getting punched in the face by a “tiny girl.” Ironically, at a time when the ideals of service, sacrifice, and community are enjoying great cachet in the national conversation, Reals who are doing more than merely talking about such notions are attracting ridicule in large part because the better angels of their nature like to sheathe themselves in colorful, tight-fitting uniforms.

But is it really so wacky what they’re doing? After all, soldiers, police officers, milkmen, firefighters, priests, nuns, Girl Scouts, judges, and football referees all use clothing to signify their commitment to virtuous service. Real Life Superheroes are simply putting a contemporary, hyper-individualized spin on the time-honored notion that clothes make the man. Institutions have long capitalized on the transformational power of uniforms—a young Marine recruit donning his Dress Blues for the first time find himself summoning new reservoirs of courage and discipline as he feels compelled to live up to all the values his uniform embodies. A novice in the Catholic Church undergoes a similar transformation the first time she dons her habit.

But what if you’re not a member of the Marine Corps or the Catholic Church, and yet you’d still like to experience the magic of sartorial transformation yourself? While there isn’t a “virtuous sweater” section at Urban Outfitters or Banana Republic yet, you can get a custom-made BattleSuit from Hero-Gear.net, for the surprisingly reasonable price of only $140. “Once you get suited up, you’re a hero and you have to act like one,” explained a Real who calls himself Geist to City Pages last year.

Hero-Gear.net was created by Jack Brinatte, a professional wrestler in Minnesota who started making costumes for himself and other wrestlers. When he advertised his wares on the Internet and started getting inquiries from aspiring Real Life Superheroes, he found himself catering to a new niche; eventually, he created a superhero persona for himself, Razorhawk, and now wears his blue-and-yellow uniform while engaging in community service. “We go out there and try to inspire people to do do good things,” he recently told Fox News. Volunteer in your regular everyday persona, Brinatte suggested, and it doesn’t have as much impact as when you put on a mask and assume a dramatic superhero persona. “People tend to remember that,” he concluded. “Kids see it and it sticks in their mind.”

Of course, it’s not just a selfless act for the adults who don the suits. The U.S. Army used to promise new recruits an “Army of One,” but when they put on their new uniforms, they looked just like every other soldier. That’s part of a traditional uniform’s power—it evokes the strength of all who’ve ever worn it—but in the Internet era of conspicuous self-promotion, it’s easy to see why a flashy and unique outfit, coupled with a proprietary brand name, is appealing to potential do-gooders. Just because you want to serve a cause greater than yourself doesn’t mean you don’t want to be the center of attention while doing it. And have a little fun while you’re at it.

Indeed, while we may have entered a new age of service, sacrifice, responsibilty, and hard work, do we have to be so high-minded about it? Take this YouTube clip produced by Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore, in which a gaggle of casually pompous celebrities promise to help President Obama transform America by smiling more, curing Alzheimers, and foregoing bottled water—wouldn’t it be a whole lot easier to swallow if Ashton and Demi had nixed the ridiculously solemn keyboards and required all the participants to wear Spandex skinsuits while delivering their lines?

Contributing Editor Greg Beato is a writer living in San Francisco. Read his Reason archive here.

http://reason.com/archives/2009/01/28/watchman-state

Homemade heroes offer low-level law enforcement

It was an unusually warm night for January, and the sidewalks of East Village bustled with activity – people walking to the corner store, the homeless squatting in front of their tents, rock ‘n’ roll types smoking outside a tattoo shop.

It was also the kind of night that might draw evildoers out of the shadows.

So, armed with a belt full of gadgets (stun gun, pepper spray, handcuffs), Mr. Xtreme did what any superhero would do. He patrolled the streets by the light of the full moon.

He doesn’t scale buildings like Spider-Man or emit beams from his eyes like the X-Men’s Cyclops. But like his comic book counterparts, Mr. Xtreme insists on keeping his identity secret, helped by a camouflage wrestling mask with bug-shaped mesh eyes.

Mr. Xtreme is a Real-Life Superhero, part of an international online community of about 300 comic book fans who spend their free time fighting crime and doing good deeds for mankind behind the anonymity of a mask and cape.

There’s Dark Guardian, who patrols the streets of New York City as part of the superfluously named Justice Society of Justice. He wears a black spandex body suit, black cape and hard-shell mask. And in Utah, Ghost puts the fright into bad guys with his skeleton mask, long white wig and black cape.

Other superheroes hail from Michigan, Florida, Mexico City, Italy and England. San Diego’s only other known superhero goes by the name MidKnight.

They are connected via several online networks, including the World Superhero Registry and MySpace, where they share tips on patrol tactics, costume design and dealing with the police.

“Police automatically label us vigilantes,” said Mr. Xtreme, a 30-something security guard who asked The San Diego Union-Tribune to keep his identity private. The newspaper agreed after conducting a background check on him.

“I say we’re more costumed activists. Vigilantes render punishment onto criminals. We don’t harass people, don’t violate their civil rights. First and foremost, we prevent crime. We do what we are allowed to do legally as citizens.”

Birth of a superhero

Mr. Xtreme, who was raised in San Diego, said a wave of violence in the early 1990s – and the public’s apparent apathy to it – left an impression on him.

“They just want to look the other way and pretend it doesn’t exist,” he said. “I felt I needed to do something.”

Then in 2006, he got to thinking: What if the world had real superheroes? What kind of place would it be?

He joined the online community soon after and created his first persona, The Nag. But the heavyset bachelor was looking for something catchier.

Deciding to combine his love of the comic book superhero team Justice League of America with his passion for the Xtreme Football League, he came up with the Xtreme Justice League.

His costume is still in development. Besides the mask, he wears black tactical pants, boots and a long-sleeved, camouflage shirt under a green Xtreme Justice League T-shirt. His belt bulges with pepper spray, handcuffs, two cell phones, a first aid kid, a Double Trouble stun gun and a long Mag flashlight.

He has designed a sweet new costume in his head for when he can get some money together. “I’m going to have a Kevlar tactical helmet, tactical goggles with custom lenses. Obviously I’m going to have a cape, body armor.”

In March, Mr. Xtreme and superhero associate Shadow Hare of Cincinnati spent an afternoon in Chula Vista handing out fliers about a sexual predator wanted by police. They advertised a reward of $1,000 of their own funds for information leading to an arrest.

Then the gang unit showed up and had a conversation with the masked men. Chula Vista police spokesman Bernard Gonzales said the officers were just doing their due diligence.

“Anyone who goes out and tries to assist law enforcement by handing out fliers and being proactive against the criminals is appreciated,” said Gonzales. “But when you start physically involving yourself in crime fighting, that’s vigilantism.”

‘Every little bit helps’

New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin declared Oct. 13 the Day of the Superhero after about 250 superheroes converged on the city to meet and march, but that was a rare display of official recognition.

Most police officers are uncomfortable with anonymous, masked characters walking neighborhoods carrying weapons.

Mr. Xtreme has tried to attend community meetings at the police station in the Mid City Division, but police asked him to leave when he refused to take off his mask, said San Diego police spokeswoman Mónica Muñoz.

“It didn’t work out too well,” Mr. Xtreme admitted.

Police also are concerned that the superheroes are putting themselves at risk.

“What we’re looking for is for the community to be our eyes and ears. If you see a crime, report it. Be a good witness,” said San Diego police Capt. Chris Ball. But “you shouldn’t be carrying weapons and you shouldn’t be confronting people.”

Police have had similar doubts about other citizen patrol groups, such as the Guardian Angels, who seem to have developed an amicable partnership with authorities, and the Sentinels, a Los Angeles group that disbanded in the early 1990s after a member beat an accused drug dealer.

Mr. Xtreme countered the vigilante accusations by saying he has studied the law carefully when it comes to carrying legal self-protection and knows when it is and is not appropriate to make citizen arrests. He said he hasn’t made an arrest as a superhero but has exercised the right in the past.

He plans to reach out to San Diego police in hopes of finding his own Commissioner Gordon, Batman’s sympathetic confidant at the Gotham City Police Department.

Preventing crime, serving the less fortunate and empowering others to take action are at the core of his message.

“When drug dealers see us, they’ll go to the other corner. That carjacker, he’s going to take the night off,” he said.

During a patrol in the Gaslamp Quarter last Saturday night, he drew plenty of gasps, nudges and stares.

A few people stopped to ask what he was all about.

“At first thought, it’s kind of funny,” said Dushaun Fairley, a Chula Vista Realtor who questioned the costume from the patio of Nicky Rotten’s on Fifth Avenue. “But at the end of the day, every little bit helps.”

Staff researcher Michelle Gilchrist contributed to this report.

A long-ago superhero

Mr. Xtreme and MidKnight are not the only superheroes to make a go of protecting San Diegans.

In the 1970s and ’80s, a self-appointed crusader named Captain Sticky squeezed his 350 pounds into blue tights, a gold cape and glittery boots to fight for justice.

The former fiberglass contractor, also known as Richard Pesta, was credited with helping launch statewide investigations into nursing homes and campaigning against rental-car rip-offs and sugary cereal.

He eventually retired the persona but later grabbed headlines when he was investigated by San Diego police for letting his home be used to film an X-rated movie. He testified against the film’s producer in exchange for immunity. He also sold sex tours in Thailand, but the Thai government shut him down.

Sticky, whose name derived from his love of peanut butter and jelly, died in 2004 of complications from heart bypass surgery in Thailand.

Online: For more on Real-Life Superheroes, go to worldsuperheroregistry.com and freewebs.com/heroesnetwork

http://www3.signonsandiego.com/stories/2009/jan/17/1n17heroes002224-dynamic-do-gooders-contribute-lor/?zIndex=38829

New Orleans Gotham City Has Its Own Batman Superhero

Carol Forsloff
The city was waiting for this. In the midst of a crime wave, victims still hurting from floods and misery, streets littered with garbage and corrupt police who might turn on or turn you in, here comes a hero.
Here comes Batman, a real, live World Superhero into New Orleans, swooping into neighborhoods in his dark costume and ready to take on the bad guys anytime.
The guy in New Orleans is an actual, registered superhero, a member of a World Superhero Registry. It takes lot for a fellow to be one, and New Orleans has only a single registered superhero in the entire metropolitan area. But that should be enough. What’s more our guy is the only superhero registered in the entire State of Louisiana, so he’s responsible not just for New Orleans, but for Lafayette, the State Capitol, Baton Rouge, Shreveport and even my town of Natchitoches, Louisiana in the north central part of the State as well as all the towns and cities in between.
“Nostrum,” as the World Superhero calls himself, lives in New Orleans and has his own MySpace profile. Well, how else could the citizens of Gotham contact him, after all? His profile on MySpace says it all, “there is right, and there is wrong, nothing more.” Talk about strong and silent, well almost silent, but certainly a fellow of few words.
The New Orleans online paper asked to interview “Nostrum,” but he didn’t respond to the request. It’s likely he wants to keep his identity disguised. He may be Mayor Ray Nagin, after all, taking care of the city by day and arrayed in a hero’s costume by night. Nah, most folks would rather have Aaron Neville because the lad can sing and has the body to intimidate as well. But who knows for sure?
For those who want to join “Nostrum” the sign up page is here. Understand there are terms and conditions for joining because these folks live in the shadow of the law, on the fringes where identities are kept secret and where activities do not always correspond to the usual and customary ways of crime fighting. Since New Orleans hardly has any crime fighting, according to its statistics as the city with the highest crime rate of the nation, who would mind a couple of fellows who cross the line just a bit in apprehending the bad guys.
In the meantime the modern Gotham, alias the Crescent City, also known as Chocolate City, needs to know that somewhere there is a great hero waiting to rescue the people from harm. No one knows for sure when he will show up, but hopefully next time there’s a crime wave—like tomorrow.
http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/264971#tab=comments&sc=0&contribute=&local=

Registry' crime-fighter

Since moving to New Orleans a year and a half ago, I’ve often wondered why so many people dress in costume for apparently no reason at all.
This could be part of the easy-going nature of people here, those who find every excuse to party and revel in any reason to dress in outlandish outfits. But maybe there’s something else going on. Could New Orleans be a haven for costumed do-gooders?
I stumbled upon an article from KNXV-TV in Phoenix, Ariz., and several other blogs about a World Superhero Registry.
The organization’s site is a one-stop-shop for all things superhero, including a list of registered superheroes, contacts for help with your costume creation, tutorials and tips for being effective and interviews with fellow citizen crime-fighters.
KNXV-TV found more than one certified superhero in that area, including “Green Scorpion” and “Citizen Prime.”
Unfortunately, New Orleans has only one registered superhero patrolling the streets at night.
Louisiana’s sole registered World Superhero is a New Orleans resident who goes by “Nostrum,” according to the registry’s Web site and his MySpace page. Featured on his MySpace profile is this simple quote: “There is right and there is wrong, nothing more.”
Nostrum did not immediately respond to an interview request from NOLA.com to find out what exactly he does to fight crime in the Crescent City.
There are several other groups like this, including Heroes Network, Justice Guild and The Alternates.
Some say the movement really picked up after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, and gained popularity again thanks to President-elect Barack Obama’s call for “active citizenry” during his campaign.
While it seems plenty of people are doing their part to keep their neighborhoods safe, that doesn’t mean they are official superheroes.
People must meet at least three criteria to be considered for the registry. The superhero must wear a good-quality costume, do heroic deeds that exceed “normal everyday behavior” and the person should do those deeds out of self-motivation rather than for financial gain, according to the World Superhero Registry site.
I know one thing – Nostrum has his hands full with this city and its world-famous high crime rate. Someone’s slacking off, I’d say. Or he’s in over his head.
http://blog.nola.com/checkitout/2009/01/new_orleans_has_its_own_world.html

Registry’ crime-fighter

Since moving to New Orleans a year and a half ago, I’ve often wondered why so many people dress in costume for apparently no reason at all.
This could be part of the easy-going nature of people here, those who find every excuse to party and revel in any reason to dress in outlandish outfits. But maybe there’s something else going on. Could New Orleans be a haven for costumed do-gooders?
I stumbled upon an article from KNXV-TV in Phoenix, Ariz., and several other blogs about a World Superhero Registry.
The organization’s site is a one-stop-shop for all things superhero, including a list of registered superheroes, contacts for help with your costume creation, tutorials and tips for being effective and interviews with fellow citizen crime-fighters.
KNXV-TV found more than one certified superhero in that area, including “Green Scorpion” and “Citizen Prime.”
Unfortunately, New Orleans has only one registered superhero patrolling the streets at night.
Louisiana’s sole registered World Superhero is a New Orleans resident who goes by “Nostrum,” according to the registry’s Web site and his MySpace page. Featured on his MySpace profile is this simple quote: “There is right and there is wrong, nothing more.”
Nostrum did not immediately respond to an interview request from NOLA.com to find out what exactly he does to fight crime in the Crescent City.
There are several other groups like this, including Heroes Network, Justice Guild and The Alternates.
Some say the movement really picked up after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, and gained popularity again thanks to President-elect Barack Obama’s call for “active citizenry” during his campaign.
While it seems plenty of people are doing their part to keep their neighborhoods safe, that doesn’t mean they are official superheroes.
People must meet at least three criteria to be considered for the registry. The superhero must wear a good-quality costume, do heroic deeds that exceed “normal everyday behavior” and the person should do those deeds out of self-motivation rather than for financial gain, according to the World Superhero Registry site.
I know one thing – Nostrum has his hands full with this city and its world-famous high crime rate. Someone’s slacking off, I’d say. Or he’s in over his head.
http://blog.nola.com/checkitout/2009/01/new_orleans_has_its_own_world.html

Zeroes

By DAVE MASTERS

IS it a bird, is it a plane ? No, it’s a REAL superhero.

This Spandex-clad chap is one of a growing number of Clark Kent wannabes battling bad guys on America’s mean streets.
And the amateur crime fighting craze is taking off faster than a speeding bullet across the Pond.
There’s Mr Invisible, who patrols Los Angeles dressed in a homemade grey “invisibility” suit, and Dark Guardian, who dons a black cape to target New York nasties.
Red-caped superheroine Terrifica manhandles drunken girls away from heavy-handed dates in the nocturnal Big Apple.
Meanwhile, The Eye doesn’t blink in his quest to conquer crime in California and The Queen Of Hearts patrols Michigan.
An online World Superhero Registry has even been set up with almost 300 members – or “Reals” as they call themselves.
Volunteers must shun guns and knives to avoid being arrested as vigilantes. Some don body armour, while others just wear a smile.
It is up to each individual how they use their powers, from a citizen’s arrest to just helping old ladies across the road.
But like all good superheroes, the true identities of those taking part remain a closely-guarded secret.
To become a Real you must come up with a brand new superhero character for yourself and then design and make an outfit.
One businessman in Arizona who transforms himself into Citizen Prime spent £2,700 on his get up.
He says: “This is a more serious business than it looks.”
But taking to the streets can be dangerous. One Real called Black Owl was thrown into a psychiatric ward when cops got the wrong end of the stick.
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Swelled

And Mr Invisible came under attack himself – from a young girl.
He revealed: “This 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.”
The Reals movement was born in reaction to the 9/11 attacks but recruitment has swelled recently with many pointing to Barack Obama’s calls for “active citizenry”.
Dark Guardian says: “Some may call me a hero, a superhero, a vigilante or a nut job.
“But I fight for all that’s right and just. I will drive myself into the ground to make this world a better place.”
The peaceful vigilantes are determined to make a difference and promise they won’t be going up, up and away any time soon.
http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/features/article2084827.ece

Sul web, in lotta contro il crimine

di BENEDETTA PERILLI
FOX Fire indossa una maschera da volpe, un lungo cappotto di pelle nera e insieme ai Nameless Few protegge dalla violenza le strade del Michigan. Ha 26 anni, è una donna, e di notte diventa una supereroina. Come Wonder Woman. Senza superpoteri, però. La sua forza sta in alcune nozioni di magia e in un buon allenamento fisico. Come lei, in giro per il mondo, centinai di altri supereroi della vita reale, che si dividono tra professioni normali e lotta al crimine.
Quella dei supereroi della vita reale è un’esperienza nata dopo l’11 settembre e rafforzata dalla recente politica dell’active citizenship promossa da Barack Obama. Negli anni recenti la loro comunità è cresciuta intorno al sito World Superhero Registry, l’anagrafe dei “difensori dell’umanità” che a oggi registra trenta iscritti e due aspiranti. Ognuno con un nome, uno stile, un “costume” e un’area d’azione. Il resto è nelle mani della loro fantasia. A eccezione di tre regole, alle quali ogni supereroe, che ambisca a entrare nel registro mondiale, deve sottostare.
La prima riguarda il costume. Non un semplice travestimento per tutelarsi da eventuali ritorsioni, ma un segno di rispetto nei confronti dell’umanità. L’abito è il biglietto da visita con cui presentarsi al mondo, e dal quale dipende la propria credibilità. La seconda regola definisce l’attività del supereroe, che deve agire per il bene dell’umanità, mantenendo però un livello d’azione più attivo e partecipativo del semplice comportamento quotidiano. In caso di inattività o di inadempienza, il registro segnala nella scheda l’eventuale ritiro dall’anagrafe mondiale.
Infine, l’ultima regola, quella che riguarda la motivazione personale e definisce i doveri del paladino. Essere supereroi non ha niente a che fare con campagne di promozione personale o trovate pubblicitarie. La vocazione deve venire dal singolo individuo, che non può ricevere denaro per la sua attività né lavorare come rappresentante, stipendiato o volontario che sia, di un’organizzazione.
Detto questo, non resta che scorrere il registro per scoprire travestimenti e crociate di questi paladini che molto devono al mondo dei fumetti ma dal quale non possono prendere neanche un nome, pena l’infrazione del copyright. E allora l’ispirazione arriva dalla fantasia. A New York lavora Terrifica, in Inghilterra c’è Black Arrow, in Florida opera Amazonia mentre la Regina di Cuori è del Michigan. Ultima limitazione all’operato di questi eroi incompresi – che in questi giorni grazie ad alcuni articoli su The Sunday Times e Rolling Stones vivono momenti di gloria – è l’utilizzo di pistole e coltelli. Ben vengano quelli in plastica, che fanno da complemento all’abito. La loro vera arma non è metallica, ma virtuale.
Dalle pagine dei loro siti, i supereroi lanciano le loro minacce al mondo del crimine. Ed è sempre online, con l’iscrizione al registro ufficiale, che l’attività trova definitiva consacrazione. Inutile fare pressioni per entrare nel registro: la nomina deve essere promossa da parte del registro stesso in seguito a una comprovata carriera da supereroe.
I capostipiti sono i quattro più celebri iscritti che a oggi, tuttavia, risultano in pensione. C’è Terrifica, paladina della sicurezza femminile che per anni ha tutelato le donne newyorkesi da uomini violenti e pericolosi. C’è Angle-Grinder Man, il vigilante inglese degli automobilisti che, operando tra Londra e il Kent, ha liberato centinaia di automobili dalle ganasce applicate dalla polizia municipale. Ci sono anche Mr. Silent, angelo delle notti dell’Illinois, e Crime Fighter Girl, ragazzina in maschera gialla impegnata in attività di volontariato e assistenza sociale nella contea di Jackson.
A loro si ispirano gli attuali supereroi, tra i quali spiccano per notorietà, con tanto di interviste a Cnn o Fox, SuperBarrio e Shadow Hare. Il primo, costume in lycra rosso, mutandoni e mantello dorati, difende i diritti dei lavoratori e dei poveri messicani. Il secondo, maschera nera, aiuta i senzatetto di Cincinnati. C’è anche chi difende il mondo dall’inquinamento, come Black Harrow – cappuccio nero, capelli rossi e amore per gli animali – o Entomo: quest’ultimo è l’unico supereroe italiano ammesso nel registro. Il fiorentino Superataf è in attesa che la sua candidatura venga valutata.
Entomo è un uomo insetto che opera a Napoli per promuovere una più ampia coscienza ambientalista. E dalla sua pagina MySpace lancia una testimonianza: “Essere un supereroe è il gesto più importante che si possa realizzare in un mondo arretrato come il nostro. Utilizzo le mie capacità salvando quel che resta da salvare e distruggendo quel che non rientra nel grande schema dell’equilibrio”.
http://www.repubblica.it/2008/12/sezioni/esteri/supereroi-vita-reale/supereroi-vita-reale/supereroi-vita-reale.html?ref=hpspr1

Costumes and Capes: Real Life Superheroes on the World Superhero Registry

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.