The Golden Age

Superheroes have intrigued guys (and girls) for more than 50 years. What started out with Superman and Wonder Woman grew to absolutely anything you could possibly imagine. Growing up, my favourites were the X-Men because of their variety, low repetition of powers (because of there was so many of them) and, well, they were awesome. Nightcrawler? Wolverine?? How can you go wrong? Nowadays I'm a fan of Deadpool because of his contrast to the regular comic book hero. Breaking the 4th wall, sarcasm, wittiness, insensitivity, and overall hilariousness. I never read comics because I never saw them for sale and therefore thought they weren't made anymore, but I googled TONS of facts. Yes, I'm a nerd. If you haven't figured that out already...you need some help. So with the Avengers movie coming out in the next few months, superheroes have crept into my mind again and merged with my creativeness. This is the result of that, and a long summer with me and my thoughts.



"I'm getting too old for this."

Bullets whistled through the air a foot above the man laying on the ground. Staying as flat possibly could, he quickly rolled over and aimed the palms of his hands at his attackers. Soon the air started to ripple and shimmer, causing the bullets to deflect and ricochet off the walls of the buildings lining the street. The man of the ground tensed his arms, twisted his wrists, and then gave a slight push. The wall of air shot forwards, pushing all four of the gunmen off their feet and onto the hot pavement under them. Disorientated and angry, the men scrambled to their feet, only to see the man in the blue costume's cape disappear around a corner. Without a question, the men ran after the masked marauder. They approached the corner at full tilt, then skidded to a halt. In their path stood a stocky man in golden roman armor. The giant 'G' on his belt confirmed their fears: they were facing the Gladiator.

Shock consumed them. Not one of them said a word. Eyes flicked back and forth in desperation, hoping someone would have an idea. The Gladiator stood there facing them, with a small smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. The extended silence only caused their fear to increase. Any sudden movement on either side would cause an outbreak of chaos, probably resulting in four concussions and four arrests. Suddenly, the man at the back of the group panicked and turned to run, only to run into an invisible wall, taking him by surprise and knocking him to his feat. Panic then engulfed the group, as each tried to test their line of escape. An invisible bubble encompassed them, trapping them in front of their fate. One of the criminals pulled out his gun and made as if to shoot their invisible prison, only to be greeted with screams of defiance and a barrage of fists.

"Are you ready to do this, or do I have to wait all day?"

The gruff Brooklyn accent froze the four men in their place. Slowly, four heads turned in unison towards the Gladiator, who was now accompanied by the man in the blue costume and black mask, also known as Captain Incredible. His hands were out in front of him, just as they looked before when the men had been hit by the mysterious wall of air. It was this power that again jeopardized their mission. Not one of them could muster enough courage to say anything.

"Listen." This time, Captain Incredible spoke. The voice was soaked in a 1950's upper class air, with just a tinge of Canadian for good measure. "This force field is the only thing holding Gladiator back from you. I drop my concentration, he drops your sorry hides on the ground. Not a very pleasant thought, I can assure you."

One of the trapped men began to sweat nervously and shake. Another closed his eyes and whispered something under his breath, as if to ask for salvation before death. Captain Incredible gave a sideways glance at Gladiator, who returned it with a wink.

"But," he continued, "there is another option. Other than the ambulance, that is." He chuckled at his own joke. The audience, however, only swallowed a huge glob of fear. "You can always let us know who had you store all those weapons in that warehouse." The four men all looked at each other. Captain Incredible sighed. They were all the same. No matter how afraid of the pair of heroes they were, they were always more afraid of their boss. The worst thing, though, was the last several incidents were all connected to the same guy. But who?

"Very well," the Captain said, trying to conceal his disappointment. He turned his wrist slightly, then slowly lowered his arms back to his side. As soon as his arms started to move, the four men dashed behind the corner, followed closely by the Gladiator. Captain Incredible rubbed his left arm where he felt a cramp starting. He had been fighting crime for twenty years, beginning in 1975. Now 47, the joints would hurt more and more every time he made a simple force field. Behind the building, he heard the screams of the criminals and the wild, maniacal laughter of the Gladiator. Instead of intervening, he decided to give Jim some more time with them, and leaned against the wall, still massaging his arm. Ever since they had met in New Jersey, Jim had a strange love of violence. Wasn't the typical hero supposed to refrain from beating the living tar out of their victims? Weren't they supposed to only help the law, not take it into their own hands? Probably. Was that how they did things? Not once in their twenty years. The Captain was the brains, the Gladiator was the brawn. Of course, they recruited several people over the years and formed a powerful team for quite some time, but they had all gone now. In fact, this crusade wasn't even supposed to happen. They were supposed to be in retirement from crime fighting, financially supported by their respective cities. But Jim needed one last mission, and there happened to be a crime boss that was easily evading the police. 47 isn't that old, right?

As the last of the screams and whines died down, the Captain decided it was time to see the damage the Gladiator had done. He strolled around the corner to see the roman guard standing over four unconscious bodies. Two of them had bloody noses, one of them with a nasty crook in it and blood all over his face, another had an unnatural bend in the middle of his right arm, and the last had a large black eye and a split lip. Other than that, though, there was minimal blood.

"This guy's gettin' lazy," Jim growled. "These punks weren't even trained. Straight from the streets." He wiped some blood that oozed from his nose with the back of his hand and growled something unintelligible. Captain Incredible looked over the carnage and shook his head.

"Did you really have to break his arm?"

"What? Oh, yeah, him. Well...he came at me. We were fighting. Stuff happens."

Captain Incredible shook his head. Jim was getting more careless in his fights. A broken arm here, a broken leg there, soon there would be a fatality, and there was no coming back from that. But they wouldn't have to if they could finish the job quick enough.

Both heroes stared over the bodies. The Captain folded his arms, looking upon the men with pity. The Gladiator hung his arms at his side and was slightly hunched over and panting, giving more the appearance of an animal, as he recovered from his rage. Suddenly, Jim looked up at Captain Incredible.

"Ed, I just remembered. Before I broke that guys nose, he started yellin' and fussin' about some Zimmerman. Said he's who we gotta find."

Ed nodded slowly. "Then I know exactly where to look." You don't fight crime for 20 years and not pick up a few names and locations.



Edwin Rothe walked out of his front door and sat on his porch chair. It was old, but what it lacked in style it made up with in comfort and familiarity. The sun was just peeking out from the Rocky Mountains, flooding the landscape in a warm, golden glow. This was his favourite time of day. Always had been. With a cup of coffee, the moment was perfect. It was utopia for all he cared. A rumble far off let him know of the incoming mail truck. As it pulled up to the drive way, Edwin slowly stood up, shoved his hand into his jeans pocket and walked over to greet the delivery man.

"Morning Gerald," he said slowly, with a 1950's upper class air with a tinge of a Canadian accent for good measure. "How's the week been?"

"Morning Ed," Gerald replied. "It's been another long one, but I'm getting by. And I'm sorry, but I can't stay and chat much today. Just came to give you your paper...and this." Gerald reached into the passenger seat, pulled out the weeks newspaper and a large envelope with bold red writing. Edwin took it, thanked the mailman and wished him well, and slowly walked back to his porch chair. Though the paper usually took most of his attention in the mornings, Edwin was completely focussed on the envelope. Staring at the writing, he fumbled for his glasses in his shirt pocket. They were a burden, but the eyes just didn't work as well as they used to and he liked the distinguished feel they gave him. Adjusting the glasses on his nose to get the proper focus (and feeling very much like an old man), he checked when the package was sent. July 23, 2015, from Winnipeg. That was only two days ago. Nothing came to Rocky Mountain House that quickly unless it was extremely important. In bright red letters on the front was the word CLASSIFIED. Edwin popped open the envelope and removed the single piece of paper within, mouthing the words to himself as he read them. The letter was short and in a formal, governmental font, which emphasized the importance even more than giant red letters. As he read, each word brought a new intensity to his face, one of concern, intrigue, and fear. They read:

To Mr. Edwin Rothe, aka Captain Incredible,

Evil is upon us, Edwin. Our intelligence agency and its operatives cannot handle what is going to come. We have, however, kept it from the public eye. This problem is something none of us have ever dealt with, but we know you have. We need your experience, Captain Incredible. It is a great thing to ask, I know, but we are out of options. Lives will be in jeopardy. If you choose not to help, then all of ours will be as well. 

Burn this letter after opening it. 

Jack Allen, CIA

Edwin folded the letter and put it in his pocket, rested his elbows on his knees, then placed his head in his hands. For half an hour he sat there, motionless. Eventually, he got up, stretched his back and walked back into the house. No matter how much he didn't like it, there was only one course of action.


"I have to talk to Jim."

Science and High School

A little bonus for those who realized I skipped a blog in February. This was originally posted June 8, 2010, on Facebook Notes. 




Throughout my high school years, I (accidentally) discovered a theory that will change the way you see junior high kids. And, I apologize, my high school class were the test subjects. 

The theory explains the mind boggling stupidity that junior high kids seem to suddenly pick up. See, kids can be quite smart. I have heard numerous times on some of the "slower" kids in high school reflecting on their elementary days when they got honor roll in grade 5 and 6 or best marks in the class. Then, suddenly, its gone, along with almost all common sense. Why?

The problem lies within the skull. When a kid enters into grade 7, a chemical reaction occurs between the brain and the brain stem. It creates a small space between the brain and stem, blocking the transfer of larger chunks of information. Common sense gets stuck in the brain and does not come out in actions and words, and complicated school work gets stuck in the stem and does not get to the brain to be solved. Thats why grade 7 does not add up to the toughness grade 6 teachers make it out to be. Jr high teachers know what happens to kids and give a lighter workload. Some stem-brain separations are more severe than others, while some may only get partially severed. It all depends on the students genetics and environment. 

This is not a permanent condition, though. As the student grows, the space begins to re-heal. Small amounts of information can be soon transfered after the initial reaction. Again, the growth rate is different for every student. Usually, girls mature (re-heal, same thing) faster than guys, usually around grade 10-11. For guys, its around to grade 12- college/year after. Some students never completely re-heal. As I have learned recently, though, most stems do reattach. The effects are seen most noticeably a year after college, as the students have experienced a different environment (which can help or hinder growth). 

Though this is only a theory, it gives a valuable insight into the minds of high schoolers and why they are what they are. I hope I have enlightened, or at the least, entertained you.

Oh Look! A New Bandwagon!

Do you know who Joseph Kony is?

After this week, I don't think anyone on facebook can say they haven't. In case you are some of the few who still have no clue, let me fill you in on the exciting world of social media!

Recently, a video has been circulating the web. Made by the same people who did Invisible Children, they have started a new campaign to "make Kony famous." Joseph Kony, the leader of the LRA in Uganda, abducts children and brainwashes them to kill for him. He has been doing this for 20 years in Uganda, and according to the video, does it only to keep power. There is no underlying cause except power. And yet no one knows who he is. That is the main reason why Kony is still at large. The campaign is an attempt to make him known, which includes informing facebook people as well as influential people in the media or government. Actors, musicians, governors and political leaders are all fair game. If they know, then they could influence the government to change it's mind and act on behalf of Uganda.

That sounds awesome. A group of guys who were touched by the danger in Uganda several years ago are now trying their best to make life better for them. Since social media has become so popular recently, why not organize a campaign around it? The whole world can be reached in days through facebook and twitter. I even did my best at helping out, changing my status to help raise Kony awareness and liking all the "Kony 2012" status's I saw on facebook that night. I thought then, and still believe, that this is a great thing to get behind.

But how great is it? I have seen several people type their concerns on facebook status's, asking whether doing this through facebook is right, whether there is actually a problem in Uganda, whether it's possible to change anything by this. And to a point, I agree.

I am someone who can get behind something quickly and easily. Sometimes, like my Pokemon and Digimon phases, they can last quite a while. Sometimes, like my plan to get NHL player autographs, they last shorter than it took to come up with the idea. I do this in movies and books as well, relating to the characters as though they were me. A good movie will leave me feeling a little funny afterwards, almost like the main character. I definitely felt very Holmesy after the second Sherlock movie. But with movies and books, those feelings are fleeting. For an hour or two, I am the character. After that, I think about what it was about and start looking at things more rationally and figure out how good they actually were.

This, I believe, is the bandwagon mentality.

People love the bandwagon. That's how fads get started. That's how riots get started, as well. People love to join the big group and participate in something important. They want to be included and to be accepted by others. Humans have been like this for generations. It's so deeply rooted in human thinking that it's almost impossible to avoid. Even to claim you're not a bandwagon jumper and that you're an individual is a type of bandwagon. That's pretty much a hipster.

Now, the latest bandwagon is "Kony 2012." Tell your friends, family, famous people, tell everyone. We gotta know who Joseph Kony is. Make him famous, so the people in power can't ignore him anymore. And yet, I'm hesitant. After thinking about this a bit, a few similar circumstances came to mind. Apparently, Kony has ruled the LRA for 20 years, and his deplorable actions were unknown to the global community. What about another Joseph, this time in Russia, who killed thousands, maybe even millions, of his own people through the secret police and siberian labour camps? Stalin's iron fisted rule wasn't ever discovered during his rule, and if it was, it was at the end. What about Hitler, the epitome of evil in the 20th century? When he came to power, people fell in love with his powerful speeches and convincing plans to place Germany back as a power in Europe. The world, and even some of Germany, didn't know of his Jewish genocide until the end of World War II. Did people know how crazy Idi Amin was, or Saddam Hussein was, until they were well into their dictatorial regimes? Evil always has a tendency to hide under the general public's eye.

Now knowing who Kony is, I would agree that what he is doing is wrong and that he should be stopped from abducting more children. Why? Because to force anyone to serve another under threat, torture, and brainwashing is wrong, and so is senseless killing. Yet there is more than knowing who he is to stop him. The creators of the video are American, so I'll use them as an example. That, and because Canada's army is awful to use as an example. Anyways, let's say Obama has just discovered who Kony is and agrees that he must be stopped. To send in troops that he just pulled (mostly) from Iraq into the jungles of Uganda would cause an uproar among Americans who were glad they finally got out of a war. The African jungle is also unknown territory to American soldiers, and a similar situation to Vietnam could arise. Kony's rebel army probably specializes in guerrilla warfare, where as the Americans are straight up combatants. Tanks, jets and a ton of good old fashioned bullets. So though Americans would want to see Kony stopped, would they really want their sons, fathers and husbands to head out AGAIN to fight a war in an unknown terrain? And if Kony is really all about having power, how easily will he step down peacefully?

I bring this up not to simply kill everyone's fun, but to make people think about what they are getting into. It's one thing to say stop. It's a whole other thing to punch the bully in the face. By postering a town, we are saying stop, even though we donate money to the cause and it looks really proactive. None of us, I'm betting, are going to volunteer to go over to Africa to stop Kony. That's someone else's job. That's the governments job. What we have to do is let him know what his job is. Putting it that way, this can seem a little...obnoxious. Maybe the government does need informing, and he does need to see that the popular vote is behind it. It still isn't as easy as just going over and finding him. Kony will put up a fight if his power is threatened. For all we know, the government may be working on a plan as I type this (though I doubt that. I'm typing this at 2 am, mountain standard time). So I caution all of you who believe in "Kony 2012" to think about what it means to stop Kony. Don't simply jump on the bandwagon because they're hurting innocent kids and it breaks your heart. Hearts are easily broken and easily fixed. Jump on the bandwagon when you know that you're ready to support this thing no matter where it goes and no matter what other bandwagons pass by, no matter how awesome they look.

Unless the wagon is full of puppies.