If there’s any aspect of American Culture that has captivated the imagination and spirit of the masses more than Super-humans, I don’t want to know about it. The essence of the Superhero is an ideology which, on the surface, seems to be distinctly American…not counting the Nazi Genetically Superior Ubermensch, of course.
Say what you will about the good ol’ U.S. of A, when we hit on something, it spreads like a global pandemic…often with similar disastrous effects.
Humans need to believe in magic. For some reason, reality isn’t quite good enough. It simply doesn’t suffice to be able to eat to excess, fuck, procreate, access worldwide databases from our cell phones, travel across the globe within hours, soar into (and walk in) space, and finally unlock the answers to the seemingly infinite scientific mysteries of yester-year. No.
The World Superhero Registry is a haven for such self-glorifying fuck-nuts and a variable pageant of the bizarre. Perhaps the organization will one day establish an actual facility that will house these good-intentioned vigilantes while caring for and protecting their fragile mental states as they plummet kicking and screaming into senility.
(CONTINUE to PART 2)