Generally speaking, the laws of comics hold that superheros are either born that way or have their powers foisted upon them by means out of their control, like an ubercool radioactive spider. Dancing skills are apparently entirely optional.

As I recently attempted to discuss with Flea (who gracefully changed the conversational topic), superpowers and their resultant obligation to society are bestowed almost as if by fate. Superheroism is not something that one aspires to be unless you’re totally gay and just want squander your millionaire eccentrism by running around in tights and a kinky rubber cape. Yeah, that’s right . . . just like Batman and his Batcrotch.

Such was the display at the Sci Fi Channel’s 2007 Upfront Party by Matthew Atherton and Christopher Watters of Who Wants To Be A Superhero?:

Boy, I bet their dads are proud of them, eh? The only thing more contextually low and decrepit than dressing up as a superhero and pretending to fly are those dudes who dress up in vintage army gear and reenact Civil War battles in rural Oklahoma. Hey, this crap happens, and as many know, I’m all about blowing shit up, but only if done by actual soldiers in actual military conflicts . . . not with a bunch of overweight weekend warriors who tread only within the caution tape. These guys should get a damn blog or another equally unobtrusive hobby and save the tights for the bedroom.

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