Posted by raoulduke at dialup-67.30.235.132.dial1.atlanta1.level3.net on June 15, 2003 at 11:09:42:
My Life as a Controlled Accident
MWH
Richmond, VA
I'm not a hero; I'm just the protagonist.
The thing about romance...
Now, you know what I mean by "romance", right? I've explained this a thousand times before. Not love. Not being in love. Not necessarily, anyway. Romance is about commitment. Commitment means sacrifice.
You see, to most people, falling in love, that's the most romantic thing in the world. That's what was on TV when they were growing up. Not so much on the cartoons, I know, which probably explains my aversion to the whole thing, but the movies, the soaps, it's all people falling in love. And parents, perhaps. Maybe some people grow up with their parents being in love. Maybe that explains some more, too.
Anyway, to most people, take a priest, right? This guy is considered "married to the Church", right? He's committed to God, committed to service to the community, service to the body of the Church, and he's made sacrifices in the name of that commitment. You see, now, that's romantic.
Commitment necessarily requires some kind of act of selflessness. The man who joins the priesthood to avoid facing some other aspect of his life, the man who marries a woman for her dowry (outdated analogy? I don't know what you're talking about), these things aren't romantic. Romance, commitment, it's giving a piece of yourself away. Giving all of yourself away. Sacrifice.
"Giving up everything one owns is easy. It's much harder to give up everything one is." - St Basil
I think.
You're not a villain; you're just the antagonist.
From a distance, it's pretty. Things are pretty from a distance. The idea of sacrifice is much more desirable than actual sacrifice, which is by definition undesirable. Doing what you don't want to do. Dying a little bit.
And then there's... There's different things. The man who becomes a priest can't become a husband and the man who becomes a husband can't become a priest; the man who can't choose either becomes neither.
I had visions; I was in them; I was looking into a mirror, to see a little bit clearer the rottenness and evil in me.
What we love about Batman is that he's always treading a very thin line between what he fights for and what he fights against. He battles with monsters; he gazes into the abyss. Occasionally some villain confronts him with this, and asserts... observes... "You're just like me."
His response... It's only words on paper, of course, but you can imagine his voice. Desperate. Desperate. He denies the allegation and in his anger, his fear, his certainty that the villain is right, he attacks the villain with the hatred he usually reserves for himself, lending yet more weight to the villain’s observation.
We love Batman for the same reason we love vampires and we hate Superman for the same reason we got a little thrill every time Hoggle sprayed a fairy. Superman's everything we wish we were and Batman's everything we know we are. Superman may seem prettier, his life seems easier, he's stronger and brighter and things are clear-cut for him, but with Batman... Batman we identify with.
He's an asshole, you see? Superman's a nice guy, really. He's the nice guy we pretend to be. And Batman, we'd like to hate him, but that would be admitting that we hate ourselves. Superman, we'd like to like him, but that'd be admitting that we wished we were perfect.
Deep down, we feel sorry for Batman and we resent Superman.
I know, I know, it tastes like shit, but chin up, son; it furthers the plot.