Surprisingly, I wasn't much of a superhero comic fan as a teenager/preteen. I was into all manner of other geeky things, but somehow, caped crusaders never did much for me. Their costumes, on the other hand, were much more attractive. One of my first Halloween costumes that I can remember was a Batman costume that my mother rigged up, using a T-shirt with "BATMAN" printed on it in fuzzy iron-on letters, tights, and some blue underwear worn over the tights. I was invincible.
My Extreme Craft "spidey sense" perked up when I opened the newest issue of Rolling Stone. I thumbed through it until I found a full-length feature on real-life superheroes. We're not talking about firefighters or policemen, but actual people who put on costumes to stalk evildoers of all stripes. The Rolling Stone writer spent quality time with Master Legend and his sidekick, The Ace (pictured above). The dynamic duo don't have family inheritances and shill corporations to keep them in the latest laser vehicles and body armor, but they do have the ability to work wonders with soccer shin-guards and PVC pipe.
The Ace lives with Master Legend at the team's secret hide-out, a
dilapidated clapboard house in a seedy neighborhood outside
Orlando. In the back is Master Legend's workshop, a converted
garage where he develops various weapons, like the Master Blaster:
a six-foot-long silver cannon fueled by cans of Right Guard that
can shoot "a variety of projectiles," including stun pellets made
from plastic Easter eggs filled with cayenne pepper and rock salt.
As the superheroes see it, the fact that they can't project energy
bolts or summon force fields only adds to the purity of their
commitment. Their heroism, in a sense, derives from their lack of
powers. What they have instead is the power to craft themselves
anew. "This whole movement is more than just fat guys in spandex,"
insists Superhero, himself a brawny guy in head-to-toe spandex.
Master Legend and the Ace aren't alone! Head on over to the World Super Hero Registry, where you can meet your neighborhood friendly superhero, such as Lucha Libre renegade SuperBarrio from Mexico City, the mysterious "Red Arrow" from Hong Kong (pictured at right), and my personal favorite, "Angle Grinder Man", a now retired social activist who patrolled the streets of England, helping liberate cars that parking enforcers have "booted" with his trusty grinder. The superhero costumes range from lazy (Tothian) to tragic (Terrifica), but there are definitely a few who take their "craft" seriously.
Is your neighborhood going downhill in this economic downturn? This might be the time to take matters into your own hands. If you do, make sure you compensate for your lack of superpowers with a really great costume. Any crafters out there willing to step up? I'd love to see a pissed-off scrapbooker disemboweling organized crime syndicates with a rotary cutter or stamp pad.
LINK to Rolling Stone article
LINK to Superhero Registry
