Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Jimmy Olsen - By Ozog
I know what your thinking. Someone around here must have screwed up. I'm just some geeky redhead with a camera. I couldn't possibly have done this. Well screw you, all right; I'm not a coward. So turn that recorder on because I'm Jimmy Olsen, Pulitzer Prize wining photographer for the Daily Planet and I'm ready to make a full confession.
Yeah I hated him. No matter how many times he saved my life, no matter how many of my pictures of him were on the front page, no matter how much press I got or how well my books sold, I still hated him every minute of every day. I hated him for every girlfriend I had that only wanted to know what he was like and I hated him every time someone called me his little buddy. I just couldn't take it anymore. So that is why I tried to kill superman.
I just don't understand how you people took him seriously, for god's sake he wears red spandex underwear on the out side of his cloths. And that cape, who does he think he is Elvis? I've seen less flamboyant drag queens; Betsy Ross must be turning in her grave with this big goon walking around. With his perfect hair, his stock Arnold Schwarzenegger body, and his What-Would-Jesus-Do attitude.
You know he's an alien right? Not even born on this planet, and have you seen him with a green card? But does the department of immigration care? No, of course not. "We're willing to overlook it, considering how many times he's saved the planet." The rat bastards. At least he can never be president, you know that right, I looked it up. Article II section one of the Constitution, "Only a natural born citizen can be president." He might be able to leap over building and out run trains, but at least we wont have to listen to his campaign speeches. He's probably a socialist too, like Sweden in spandex.
I can't believe he's as popular has he is. Sure he can knock away asteroids that threaten us with extinction, or single handedly fight off an army of alien, mutant starfish but that just makes the rest of us look bad. Like that guy who surprises his girlfriend with flowers at the office. Sure he'll see some action but what about the rest of us? What do we get? Nagging. "Why aren't you romantic, why don't you do anything special for me, why didn't you go fight off the ten story fire breathing dragon?" You try to be a normal Joe with that always flying around over your shoulder. That's why I did it, for the little guy. For every Jimmy Olsen and every Clark Kent out there who will never have Lois because of him. For every small town nerd who would have the nerve to ask out the cheerleaders if only there weren't quarterbacks. For every working stiff that can't be Hugh Grant, Superman has to go.
It's not even like he fits the Nietzschen profile or anything, the name is just pure egotism. Nietzsche's real superman is transcendent guy, no longer affected by pity, suffering or moral corruption, and what do we have? Some wannabe flying Gandhi on steroids, hyping his fight for truth, justice and the American way, whatever the hell that means and telling us just what we want to hear so that people will always point to the sky and shout whenever they see a blur in the sky. I bet Freud would have a field day with anyone that wears something that tight.
But seriously, the guy has x-ray vision, now what would you be doing if you had x-ray vision? And people think video games are morally degrading, this guy has to be a perv. X-ray vision. Larry Flint has to be trying to option that. Do you really want your daughters saved by a guy who can make his own NC-17 film whenever he wants?
I don't know, I guess people just love the idealism and the illusion of safety he projects. I mean, if some guys says, don't worry I'll catch the plane before it hits the ground and then he does, you feel safe. It's like those flotation devises, sure they might actually help you float but what does it matter when the place crashes. Even the man of steel can't be everywhere at once. I think he's just building complacency. Metropolitans start thinking that Superman will always be there to save them, like three-year-olds with implicit trust in their parents before they realize that mom and dad are human. Not that Superman is human, but that's beside the point. He does have 'man' in his name, so he is at least trying to pretend. Maybe he should come down to our level, I mean the guy can't even stub his to right, and he think he knows what's right and wrong?
I think that's why everyone is so mad at me. No one likes to have their illusions shattered, like when you find out your favorite super model is a product of good lighting and an airbrush. It's not as if I killed the guy or anything. I just tried. Not that my plan wasn't brilliant. I got a hunk of Kryptonite from Lex, and just stuck it in my pocket. I knew he would never expect that kind of thing from me. But, in the end, he is superman, so he caught me. I just want everyone to know that I'm not insane, or being controlled by some hostile alien bent on revenge. I knew what I was doing every second. I was doing everyone a favor. Besides all the sexual frustration stuff, everyone is just to dependent on the guy, they need to look out for themselves, have a little pride in something other then a weirdo dressed in a painted-on flag prying into everyone's business. Just think of all the tax money we could save by stopping all those people who show up just to try and get a piece of the man of steel and end up wreaking half the city. And that's just the bottom line. That's why I did it. For those of us trapped on the ground, for Lois so she remembers what a real man is like, for the tax payer and the property owner, for the complacent slob to get a wake up call, for all the brain fried utopians to remember the real world, for me so I could have my own life and for all of you so maybe, just maybe, you can get noticed too.
So slap some cuffs on me and throw away the key, because I'm not sorry and I'd do it again. You'll see someday that I'm right. If history can forgive Nixon it will forgive me too. But I'm sure you'll go on with your lives, content to point and laugh with your friends at the kid who just "had a nervous break down or something." Someday you'll see, and then they'll be chanting my name at the walls. Call me crazy if you want, but when I need a hero I'm calling Batman.
submitted at 11:52 AM
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