Last weekend’s edition of This American Life was all about superpowers. Act III of the broadcast was a discussion of the many superheroes and villains that never caught on, such as Bee-Man, All-Prez, or the third-rate rip-off (non-DC or Marvel) Plastic Man and Captain Marvel.
Coincidentally, I stumbled across another forgotten villain-turned-hero [via Design Observer], who if only he caught on would have been the iconic hero of all graphic designers: Typeface! Now see, Gordon Thomas is a frustrated signsmith with PTSD from the Vietnam War. After being laid off from his job—blame Ellen Lupton!—he put on a costume and came up with various typographic weaponry to exact his revenge on desktop publishers, Kinkos, and Spider-Man—until he saw the error of his ways (and an alien invasion of the earth), at which point he teamed up with Spider-Man—but not those damned DIY designers! They can still go to hell.
But then Typeface disappeared. And between that and the many forgotten superheroes and villains enumerated on NPR this weekend, I had to wonder just where these people went? What did they eventually do with themselves? It occurred to me that choosing to become a superhero or villain must have the same allure (and require a similar endurance and tenacity) as blogging.
Think about it. The first thing that a blogger or superperson must possess is either a) a little wit and the ability to write, or b) superpowers. Barring that, then at least they should have a) family and friends that care to read their online diary, or b) a suit with a lot of gadgets.
Assuming the blogger or superperson possesses one of these qualities—and the appropriate need for validation—then it’s pretty simple to get started. A blogger need only sign up at typepad or blogspot or what have you, “custom design” their new site, et voila! The blog is born. Similarly, a superperson just needs to sew a costume. In both cases, the blogger/superperson must spend surely agonizing hours with a pen and paper making a list of potential names that capture that perfect mixture of wit, content, courage, and authority.
Name and look set down, it’s time to go out there and blog! And fight/commit crime! And of course in that first month it’s pretty easy. You have a lot of enthusiasm. You have a lot to say. You have all these bookmarks that make for easy content to begin with. And it doesn't hurt that your first month of typepad is free, so all the more convenient. Similarly, you feel yourself making a nice little splash as you pound a petty thief on the noggin or knock over a hot dog cart (again, depending on your moral character).
But then you start to lag. You’ve run out of stored-up ammo and realize how much effort goes into making new content every day, and you don’t just want to link to other blogs for the hell of it because it feels pretty senseless. Not to mention you have a job with responsibilities, maybe a significant other. Maybe a desire to go be outside now that spring is here. Boy, blogging is hard! And how come the vast interweb hasn’t found you yet? Why, for god’s sake, is Beatrice a popular blog when it is so ugly and just talks about a lot of authors I don’t care about (not to mention I can’t stand seeing Ron Hogan wink at me every time I go to the site)? He must know people I don’t know.
Not to mention you’ve now fought a few criminals that actually landed a punch or two on you, or maybe you ran up against someone who actually had superpowers of their own. Dang it, dressing up and fighting crime on a regular basis is hard work! How does Spidey do it? And how does he get so much darned publicity! He must have an in at the Daily Bugle. He must know people I don’t know.
And so, after a while, it just gets a little boring, doesn’t it? You can imagine all these people who have just given up; watching TV, going to the park or the mall, devoting yourself to your family, all sounds way more worthwhile than putting on tights and starting a fight with a desperate homeless man. So here in my cubicle at work, I decide to stop fighting crime; meanwhile, the yahoo in the cubicle next to mine has just canceled his sixapart autopayment. We’re the same, really, except that I can levitate and shoot “pretty pellets” from my fingertips. Later, we go have a beer together.
Just think about it. Your boss, sitting in his office and secretly reading Gawker, just like you, just might, long ago, have been... Rainbow Boy!
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