My Inner Super Hero

I Visited DK Read yesterday and found she has become a Super Hero. Border Explorer gave her the link to The Hero Factory.

I always looked down my literary nose at the notion of the Super Hero as literature or any genre writing, for that matter. I read Literature with a capitol L. I hope I write literature. Yes, on this I am a bit of a snob. Despite the previous post, I am a very well read woman. And the comic book has never been on my reading agenda. I saw Barbarella in Italy. I went with Nino Cerruti. He liked it. I didn't. But I liked him, and so I was disingenuous about my feelings for the film, my thoughts about it as "art."

And yet I have always had fantasies of myself as a tough cookie. A broad not to be messed with. A woman with no fear. Honest to a fault, thus strong. I see the error in this. Often kindness works better at achieving ones goals than brutal honesty, but brutality has a place in my life and I did learn much from my brutal mother. It is very hard to escape the things we were taught very early and for a real long time. So when recently confronted with a bully, I found myself afraid and horrified that I reacted in fear. The fantasies of buying a shotgun and scaring some imagined intruder took hold in my mind. But now I'm more inclined to visit the extraordinary Germaine Gregorias and purchase a lovely pink Glock.