Friday, August 25, 2006
HumanityCritic, the superhero???
Looking back on the two years that I have been blogging, I really don't have that much to complain about to be totally honest. Of course there are some issues that you will face as a blogger, like people with the collective I.Q's of room temperature who couldn't understand satire and sarcasm if it ass raped them, and want to label you misogynistic or that you somehow hate black women based on one post that they read. Also there are other bloggers who passive aggressively hate on your blog, talk that random slick shit out of the side of their collective mouths about you not deserving certain accolades, the whole time knowing that you could virtually write circles around that diseased road-kill that they call a blog. But there has been some great opportunities that have presented themselves based on the daily drivel that I write, and for that I'm blessed. Like being asked to write articles, pen songs for a few artists, add some content to scripts, I even helped a young woman write her High School Valedictorian speech. But the biggest honor thus far, because that I'm a geek who could be found either watching the "Smurfs" wondering what color my love child with Smurfette would be or angrily masturbating to "Vanity 6" posters, is being asked to pen a comic book.
Based on the fact that a couple of local artists, Jeff and Matt, are fans of my blog they asked me if I could come up with a comic book idea that they would gladly illustrate. Even though I was only a marginal comic book fan growing up, the prospect of coming up with my own superhero, his back story, and the plethora of superpowers that he possessed couldn't have excited me more.(Ok, a dream date with Janeane Garofalo is pretty exciting) But as soon as the creative process started rolling I found myself regurgitation ideas that we have seen in superhero's before, coming up with something new was quite the painstaking endeavor. Frustrated because every single idea that I came up with was as bad as getting a blow job from a chick with turrets, I decided to come up with a sort of slacker superhero. That man, you guessed it, is HumanityCritic.. I haven't pitched this idea to Jeff and Matt yet, but then again since they read this horseshit of a blog anyway I guess they are seeing it like the rest of you..
I'd be an outcast in the superhero community because I'm lazy: I've read enough comic books in my day to know that being a superhero is as thankless a job as the guy who mops up jizz at a porno theater. Risking your life on a regular basis, saving the world from it's impending doom, rescuing someones bratty little bastard, breaking up some organized crime ring, bringing murders to justice, for what??? Sure some people are going to look at you as a hero, but mostly people are going to see you as that freak of nature that can levitate and miraculously bend things with your cock, and the rewards don't seem to match the duty performed. Where is all the barely legal ass?? Where are the shit-loads of cash at my disposal? Despite attempts by other superheros to recruit me to their various organizations focused on "saving the world", I'd always reject their offer by saying "That wold cut into my weed and whore time. No thanks!" Every time Superman would come by my crib with that holier-than-thou rant saying, "HumanityCritic, with your abilities you can help clean up this world, bring villainous individuals to justice, and make sure the world is safe for the generations after you!!" I'd probably responds, "But dude, what's in it for me???"
I'd fight crimes only when it benefits me: Of course there would be times that I get off my sex stained couch and fight crimes, but only when it would benefit me somehow. Like that time I stopped that large shipment of drugs from reaching the United States that was worth 10 million dollars, thus putting me on the cover of Time and Tigerbeat as the "Superhero to Watch". Little did they know by my only motivation was to pinch about 10 pounds of weed from that drug stash for my own personal use. When I assist cops it's only to get out of parking tickets and to get assault charges expunged from my record, whenever I save a damsel in distress it's only to fuck said damsel at a later date. I'd get the paparazzi off of the back of some young starlet, as long as she gave me a mercy fuck as gratitude. You know, shit like that.
I'd use my powers to make petty cash: I'm pretty sure that whoring yourself is against some sort of superhero code, but because I wouldn't be on any type of crime fighting payroll anyway I would do whatever I could do to make ends meet. Enter strong man contests where I would dispatch mere mortals by decapitation, maiming, or your garden variety breaking of bones. I would sit on a busy street corner downtown with a hat on the ground for donations, doing my best David Blaine impressions as I levitate and move various objects with my mind. Arm wrestling competitions, long drive golf competitions, local marathons, anything that can help a brother maintain a lifestyle that I'm accustomed to. You know, purchasing triple penetration filth, independent film, and of course booze.
I wouldn't have a uniform: Batman has a uniform so people can't tell that it's Bruce Wayne, Superman removes his glasses and has his own crime-fighting uniform so people don't know it's Clark Kent, I too had a disguise but it was pretty unflattering. For one thing I'm a chubby motherfucker and tight fabrics tends to accentuate my gut just a bit, so hearing giggles on those few occasions that I decided to save someone was quite embarrassing.(Children laugh at me, women shake their head, and hearing "What is that bastard going to save, a doughnut shop??") Plus I have extremely long dreadlocks, no matter what outfit I wore people would know it was me.(How many chunky, long dread-locked dudes could there be???) My outfit is shell-toe Adidas, baggy jeans, and a Public Enemy T-Shirt..
I'd kiss and tell: I'm sure that people who have superpowers hang out together in underground clubs and watering holes, where they can mingle and let their hair down so to speak. Being that I'm a whore naturally, nothing would excite me more than the opportunity to run through as many female superheros as possible. I'd tell my boys how I folded Wonder-woman up like Origami in the backseat of her invisible jet, even hogtying her up with her magical lasso as I pounded her and screamed "Your jet is invisible, but people can still see us fucking!!" I would talk shit to Zan, one of The Wonder Twins, how I taxed his sister Jayna's ass like the government, all the time making rude comments like "Wonder-twin powers, activate!! Form of, super-slut!!!!" I'd be an insufferable prick, so yeah, the comic book me would mirror my real life.
Bad Hip Hop would be my kryptonite: People think I'm lying when I say this, but hearing bad Hip Hop actually stops me in my tracks. If I'm at a party, a club, an intimate social gathering consisting of a handful of my friends, if something comes on that disagrees with my ears I cringe and it momentarily cripples me. My friends think it's an overreaction on my part, but it is the same phenomena like yawning when someone else yawns, it's that unexplainable. If I was a superhero, the only thing that could stop me in my tracks would be my nemesis playing sub-par Hip Hop in my direction. I can see it now, me trying to save a train full of people from their impending doom, the bad guy would pull out a radio and blast Lil Wayne to drain my strength. I could even see myself catching a missile mid-flight, saving an airplane full of people, all the bad guy would have to do to thwart my superhero efforts would be to simply play some Young Jeezy at ear shattering decibels.
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