The news is all a-buzz with the story of the death of Captain America. Originally created in World War II, Captain America has been an icon of American idealism for decades.
However, this is actually the second time he died. According to news reports, he first died when he fell into ice in the North Sea, where his body was preserved until Marvel Comics dredged him up again years later.
This recent death was rather unfair to Captain America, although very modern: stopped by a sniper's bullet, he was then shot three times by an ex-girlfriend. I guess he didn't have much time to read, or he would have known that "hell hath no fury . . . "
It's interesting the attention we pay to fictional characters. We seem to care more about them at times than the real people all around us. For example, the Cavemen from the very funny and successful GEICO Insurance ads are getting their own sitcom on ABC this fall, and I found out today there are websites that let you visit the Cavemen's bachelor digs, so you can see what they read and download the music in their iPods!
I think the Cavemen catch our interest because they represent that part of all of us that feels like an outsider, so watching them interact with us "moderns" in the suburbs of Atlanta, Georgia, could provide some interesting social commentary.
That's why many of our comic book superheroes were born. They were created to address outsiders, or lonely people, or people who are just different. Look at Spiderman for example (my personal favorite): he's got superpowers, but he can't hold a job, and his wife is probably going to leave him -- at least in the newspaper series.
But what would the world really be like if we could interact with characters like superheroes, these overworked, underappreciated, and misunderstood souls? Probably something like this joke that made me laugh out loud the first time I read it:
A guy is sitting at a bar in a skyscraper restaurant high above the city. He's slamming tequila left and right. He grabs one, drinks it, goes over to a window and jumps out. The guy who was sitting next to him couldn't believe that the guy had just done that. He was more surprised when, ten minutes later, the same guy, unscathed, comes walking back into the bar and sits back down next to him.
The astonished guy asks "How did you do that?" I just saw you jump out that window and we're hundreds of feet above the GROUND!" The jumper responds by slurring, "Well, I don't get it either. I slam a shot of tequila and when I jump out the window, the tequila makes me slow down right before I hit the ground. Watch."
He takes a shot, slams it down, goes to the window, and jumps out. The other guy runs to the window and watches as the guy falls until right before the ground, slows down, and lands softly on his feet. A few minutes later, the guy walks back into the bar. The other guy has to try it too, so he orders a shot of tequila.
He drinks it and goes to the window and jumps. As he reaches the bottom, he doesn't slow down at all and hits the ground . . . SPLAT!! The first guy orders another shot of tequila and the bartender says to him, "You're really a jerk when you're drunk, Superman."
Take heart, Captain America. Even Superman died about ten years ago, but they found a way to bring him back. You did it before, and you'll do it again.
