With the advent of widespread popularity of SuperHeroDom in movies and general culture, many have become familiar with "lesser knowns" of these characters. (indeed - the massive attraction to the superhero architype would be an interesting study from a sociological perspective - is this a felt need? A replacement of God, or a re-packaging of Greco-Roman mythology?)
For many, there seems to be some bizarre delivery of their powers. Through sometimes odd circumstances, normal people wind up with some new or augmented abilities. (if this is reoccuring mythology, the shift seems to have gone from "the gods are like us" to "we are becoming the gods." This too would be an interesting thing to explore, if it's there.) The Hulk, Wolverine, Fantastic 4...etc.
One such transformation that has long puzzled me is Peter Parker into Spider-man.
I am not so much confused by the premise of how he gets his powers, but more so at the tremendously good fortune Peter Parker had in receiving the augmentations/manifestations of spidery attributes that he did.
Consider his gifting: amazing strength and durability, augmented reactions, ability to adhere to and climb walls, webs spinning and his "spidey sense."
Why is it that Peter Parker only gets the good stuff? Consider some of the other possible attributes arachnae; independant mandbiles with poison laden fangs, 8 eyes, complete body hair, 8 seven-jointed legs, and the junk in the trunk: an enormous abdomen.
Similarly, his positive changes could have manifested very differently. What if his durability also came with an exoskeleton? How fortunate for him that his web slinging ability was in his wrists/hands and he doesn't just shoot spiderwebs out of his butt. (imagine him swinging around the city by his butt - doesn't quite inspire the same awe and respect, does it?)
[here I will grant my lack of superhero knowledge and say - I think in the 70's cartoon, he actually had a device that produced the spider silk for him, (market that Peter!) whereas in the recent movies, it was an anatomical feature. Which is true to the original, I do not know. But I do know that the mental image of spiderman swinging around by his butt is a irreducable souce of amusement for me]
So - Peter Parker: most fortunate of superheroes.
Though it's not shown, I'm sure he must have a strong penchant for eating flies.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
What Katrina Victims Taught Me
Most things here in New Orleans are not very well populated. There aren’t a lot of stores open, and many of the residents of some city sections are not back yet. Yet, there seem to be at least 2 places that are up and running - and very well populated.
In the first category are the churches. They have become recovery centers, food distribution points and temporary homes for out of state volunteers. Right now I am staying in a tent city run by a local group of churches. Good News Camp. There are 600 here. All kinds of people come here each day to be fed, cared for and ministered to.
In the second category are the bars. They are also well populated and may have been some of the first stores to be up and running. (judging by the quantity I’ve seen) They also attract people of all types. They are all over the city.
One could argue that, in some way, both of these places are serving the same purpose: escape from the pain of the present.
The bars offer something to numb that pain. Through alcohol, some people are able to escape from the depression, the loneliness, the hopelessness - by forgetting. Though only for a few hours, (or in some cases an entire evening)
The churches and relief efforts also offer an escape from the current pain. People let their hearts and minds escape to the future - to the possibility of something better than today.
They can move past their harsh present by dwelling on a better future.
Both means allow people to cope, but they are not equal.
Alcohol, though it may provide an escape, produces nothing. After the temporary relief, the user must return to the same reality - nothing has been done to change it. If the bars or the bottle are my method of dealing with unpleasant reality, there is little possibility of that reality changing. I will need to numb myself to that reality again tomorrow.
Faith and Hope, on the other hand, empower the heart to action. If I believe that a better day awaits me tomorrow and the day after that, I can participate in bringing it about now. I need not be debilitated by it. Hope trumps despair. It allows the bearer to continue on, fully acknowledging reality and moving despite it.
We had many opportunities to hear from some of the hardest hit residents of New Orleans. Some were deeply embittered. Some were defiantly hopeful. The contrast was wide.
Ida Mae, and elderly women whose home we gutted, told us about the 4 months she was away from New Orleans. She lived one week at a time in various places, than settled in for 2 months in Texas before she could come to a relative’s apartment in the city.
She was a hopeful one. She was fun to be with. She talked with us about how bright the future of her city could be. She was grateful for all that she still had. (it fit in one suitcase) She seemed to be grateful now for what had not yet come.
Others told us that if you live in New Orleans, you really need to drink in order to deal with it. They were not so hopeful. Nor were they very pleasant. They seemed to focus on what won’t fix itself and who was to blame. They could not see a better future. They had no hope, other than to avoid the problems.
I wish I were more like Ida Mae, but I fear I fall into the numbness category. I’m not living in a disaster zone but I don’t really need to be. I seek to escape and distract and numb myself from the shadowy parts of my life.
What if each of us faced the dark parts of ourselves with the perspective of faith and hope? What if we were unwilling to ignore, numb and distract ourselves from our own badness? Could we simultaneously acknowledge our 'sinfulness' and embrace a solution? (a whole other discussion is whether we need outside help to make it better!) What might the solution look like?
These things are worth thinking about - for all of us. And they are worth doing something about - for all of us.
In the first category are the churches. They have become recovery centers, food distribution points and temporary homes for out of state volunteers. Right now I am staying in a tent city run by a local group of churches. Good News Camp. There are 600 here. All kinds of people come here each day to be fed, cared for and ministered to.
In the second category are the bars. They are also well populated and may have been some of the first stores to be up and running. (judging by the quantity I’ve seen) They also attract people of all types. They are all over the city.
One could argue that, in some way, both of these places are serving the same purpose: escape from the pain of the present.
The bars offer something to numb that pain. Through alcohol, some people are able to escape from the depression, the loneliness, the hopelessness - by forgetting. Though only for a few hours, (or in some cases an entire evening)
The churches and relief efforts also offer an escape from the current pain. People let their hearts and minds escape to the future - to the possibility of something better than today.
They can move past their harsh present by dwelling on a better future.
Both means allow people to cope, but they are not equal.
Alcohol, though it may provide an escape, produces nothing. After the temporary relief, the user must return to the same reality - nothing has been done to change it. If the bars or the bottle are my method of dealing with unpleasant reality, there is little possibility of that reality changing. I will need to numb myself to that reality again tomorrow.
Faith and Hope, on the other hand, empower the heart to action. If I believe that a better day awaits me tomorrow and the day after that, I can participate in bringing it about now. I need not be debilitated by it. Hope trumps despair. It allows the bearer to continue on, fully acknowledging reality and moving despite it.
We had many opportunities to hear from some of the hardest hit residents of New Orleans. Some were deeply embittered. Some were defiantly hopeful. The contrast was wide.
Ida Mae, and elderly women whose home we gutted, told us about the 4 months she was away from New Orleans. She lived one week at a time in various places, than settled in for 2 months in Texas before she could come to a relative’s apartment in the city.
She was a hopeful one. She was fun to be with. She talked with us about how bright the future of her city could be. She was grateful for all that she still had. (it fit in one suitcase) She seemed to be grateful now for what had not yet come.
Others told us that if you live in New Orleans, you really need to drink in order to deal with it. They were not so hopeful. Nor were they very pleasant. They seemed to focus on what won’t fix itself and who was to blame. They could not see a better future. They had no hope, other than to avoid the problems.
I wish I were more like Ida Mae, but I fear I fall into the numbness category. I’m not living in a disaster zone but I don’t really need to be. I seek to escape and distract and numb myself from the shadowy parts of my life.
What if each of us faced the dark parts of ourselves with the perspective of faith and hope? What if we were unwilling to ignore, numb and distract ourselves from our own badness? Could we simultaneously acknowledge our 'sinfulness' and embrace a solution? (a whole other discussion is whether we need outside help to make it better!) What might the solution look like?
These things are worth thinking about - for all of us. And they are worth doing something about - for all of us.
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