The Hope of Superheroes

As a little kid I always wanted to be a superhero.  I use to have Batman and Robin costumes. They were the ones with the plush abdominal and pectoral muscles, and I would constantly wear them under my clothes. One Halloween, I wore a homemade Robin costume based off of Robin in the Teen Titans, and my younger brother wore a little Batman suit. (I won’t comment on the fact that I was the sidekick to my younger brother of five years). I used to beg my dad to let me watch the Justice League during half time of football games, and my favorite action figures were all the different Batman characters. I loved superheroes, and I always wanted to be a superhero.

            As I got older, the possibility of being a superhero got smaller and smaller. There wasn’t any radioactive goo in small town East Tennessee. There weren’t any tall buildings for me to jump from, nor were there any super villains trying to take over. But, while the reality of being superhero quickly faded, my love for superheroes kept growing. I loved the stories, the rescues, and the fights, and the movies helped grow that love in me. Every time a new superhero movie was released, I had to go see it. I remember seeing the first X-Men, and then spending a long season time putting knives between my fingers. The Sam Rami Spider-Man movies were my daydreams, and in college, the Avengers was one of the highlights of my freshman year. Superheroes have always been a staple in my life.

            And this is true today. I still get overly excited for each new superhero movie. Right now, my mind is set on Deadpool in February. Then I am cautiously optimistic about Batman v Superman, and I am beyond excited for Captain America: Civil War. But, at the same time, superheroes have started to become overwhelming. Through 2020, we are expected to get almost 30 new superhero movies. Even for an avid superhero fan, that is a plethora of movies. There are now talks of superhero fatigue, and there appears to be this expectation that the genre will fail. It is almost if people feel like there is no need for the superhero genre anymore. The stories are the same, and the characters are boring. They have run their course.

            And honestly, if I think like the adult I have become, then I have a tendency to agree with people. Comic books are for children, and my rational, educated mind believes the tropes and stories are done. My cynical mind knows that it all is just a cash grab anyways. It is what I read on a regular basis, and it is what I am being taught by society.

            But then, I remember my childhood, and I remember my love for superheroes. I remember why I loved them. I remember the hope they gave me. The hope that I could be a hero every time I put on the muscle suit and the cape. The hope that there are always good guys that always beat bad guys and save the day. That is what Superhero films provide. They provide hope. They provide hope to little kids everywhere. Hope that there are heroes in the world, and bad guys will always get beat up. They provide hope to adults. Hope that good can conquer evil. They provide hope to those hurting that everything will be okay. The provide hope in the form of escape, even just for a few hours. They provide hope.

            And I know, this might be written off as an over simplification and cheesy, but, I truly believe that when we walk into a movie theater, just for a few hours, there is hope. There, the world stops, and just for a moment, we are guaranteed that good will conquer evil. It is this hope that keeps me excited for the heroes still to come. It is this hope that gets my heart racing every time I see the Marvel logo. It is this hope that I want to share with my future kids one day. It is hope that keeps me excited in the midst of superhero fatigue, and it is hope that I believe we will always need.

"He that hath a beard..." (A Theory)

Beards. They have been a part of society since the beginning of time. From Jesus to Abraham Lincoln to Ron Swanson, beards are a timeless staple of mankind. And, with the recent rise of the hipster, beards are more popular than ever. You see them everywhere. They are on your baristas and tattoo artists. They are on your professors and famous actors. There is even beards on superhero’s. Beards are trendy. There are beard competitions, beard envy, beard styles, and beard oils. There are yeards, tweards, and terminal beards. Beards are the in right now, and they don’t plan on going anywhere.

With all the beards, I have a theory. Let’s call it the beard theory. It might be a radical theory, but it’s a theory nonetheless. The theory is this: if you have the ability to grow a nice beard, you are obligated to all male kind to grow your beard. It doesn’t have to be big, burly, and bushy. You don’t have to look like a dwarf from middle earth, nor do you have to be able to hide secret things in your beard. It can simply be neat and trimmed. But, if you are physically and biologically able to grow a full beard on you face, you are obligated to all other men to grow that beard.

            Here is why. Have you ever met someone with incredible talent? You know, the person in high school with all the athletic talent in the world, or that friend of yours with an incredible singing voice? Just think of someone with incredible talent. Now imagine that they don’t do anything with that talent. The athlete refuses to play sports, or the singer decides never to sing. Maybe you’ve known someone like that in your life. They probably drove you insane. They were wasting their talent. They refused to use it, and you’ve probably thought: if only you had that talent, you would have used it to do something amazing. You would probably argue that someone born with amazing talent, whether athletic, musical, or physical, is obligated to use that talent in society.

            This same logic applies to beards. If you have the biological ability to grow a beard, you have been born with an incredible talent. And you, like the athlete or the singer, are obligated to use that talent in the world. There are poor souls out there who cannot grow facial hair. There are poor chaps who can only grow chain hair or beards in patches. And these people would love to have your talent. They would give anything to have the ability to grow a beard, to have a full, lush face full of hair to show to the world.  Therefore, you, with all of your facial hair talent, are obligated to grow your beard. You are obligated to all the beardless men in the world to proudly wear your beard.

            And I know, I know, there are always excuses. The beard is too hot or too scratchy. The beard is not professional, or your lady friend doesn’t find it attractive. The reality is that all of those things are just excuses. Do you think LeBron James makes excuses to not play basketball? Do you think Justin Timberlake makes excuses to not sing? No. Both men understand that they have talent, and they use that talent to make a difference in the world. You could be the LeBron James of beards. Dropping buckets with your majestic fur. You could be the Justin Timberlake of beards. Serenating society with your luscious locks. There are no excuses when it comes to the talent of a beard. If you have that talent, you are obligated to all men everywhere to wear that beard.

            Therefore, as Shakespeare says, ““He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man” (Much Ado About Nothing, William Shakespeare). Don’t be less than a man. Be more than a youth. To all men everywhere, if you have the ability and the talent to grow a beard, you are obligated to grow that beard. So grow it. Grow it proudly. Grow it loudly. Grow it boldly, and pay your dues to every man everywhere.