Superheroes do not exist!
Most of us grew up either reading comic books about superheros like Superman, Spider-Man, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman, or Batman. When these comic books were adapted into movies, we gathered in throngs to watch our superheroes, our saviors, immortalized on the silver screen. We idolized the actors that portrayed our childhood heroes, and were angered when they did not act like their screen alter egos.
In the leather community, we seem to be in love with the idea of superheroes. Over the years, we have devised contests to pick the sexiest among us, and elevate them to superhero levels. Each year around the country, leatherfolk gather to pick the one man to "represent the community" for a year. Each community picks their superhero based on physique, leather image, and charisma. We watch in awe as these men parade on stage in a bar, and ogle as they model their "superhero" outfits. Some do better than others, and we cheer, idolize, and worship them. Once picked, we sash them, parade them around, give them money to travel around the country, and fantasize about them. We make them our superheroes.
Once a year, we flock to a gathering of superheroes where one supreme superhero is chosen to represent us all for one year. There is a lot of pomp, romp, and circumstance surrounding this annual pilgrimage. As with the smaller contests, this supreme hero is chosen based on physique, leather image, and charisma. Contestants prepare for this event from the moment they are chosen by their individual communities. They work hard to perfect their bodies, and strive to come up with the right combination of reasons of why they want the coveted title. It can't be too idealistic, or the skeptics won't buy it; but it also can't be too realistic, or else the idealists won't believe it. Each contestant picks a topic near and dear to them to be their flagship cause. Same-sex marriage, HIV stigma, brotherhood, kink, leather history, world peas (no, that's not a typo!)
At the end of it all, a winner is selected! Our supreme superhero is chosen, and we celebrate by dancing, and fucking. Then we proceed to tear them all down.
As much as we are obsessed with elevating people to superhero status; we are just as obsessed, if not even more so, by chopping down the pedestal on which we elevated these men, and dragging them down the street for a public execution. OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!
It starts with the ones that did not win. They failed! They were fake superheros, they lied to us about how great they are. They failed us all, and they deserve to suffer our snark, and belittlement. "You didn't work out hard enough", "you were too fat", "your speech was terrible", "you were too young", "you were too sure of yourself"...etc.
For the one that won, the punishment for winning is even worse. He is now our supreme leader! He is divine, and will fly down and rescue us from despair. We wait, and wait, and wait for him to live up to our unrealistic expectations; and when he does not fly down from the sky with the Superman theme announcing his arrival, we collectively turn on him. It's a carnal scene; one which we relish and enjoy greatly.
We build our heroes up just so we can tear them down!
The majority survive this scathing ritual, and come out the other side stronger men, more confident of themselves, and stronger leaders. Others survive, but retreat back to their regular lives and harbor resentment for how they were treated by the very people that used to worship them.
There are also those who get so drunk on their superhero image that they never give up seeking adoration from the people around them. If they do not win one title, then they will compete for another. If they do not win that one, then they will compete for another, and another, and another, until the superhero becomes a super joke. Our "community" seems full of this particular kind of fallen superhero, and we see them everyday, either in person, or on Facebook. We pay them lip service to their face, or on their Facebook walls, then turn around and stab them in the back, laugh at them, and tear them down.
We create superheroes so we can watch them fail!
Through all the blame and finger pointing, we never seem to realize that the failure of these men to live up to our unrealistically high expectations is due to us. We elevate these men to statuses that they are incapable of living up to. We expect too much from the nymphomaniac who wants nothing else but to get laid. Why on earth would we be surprised when he doesn't do a single community service or fundraiser? We choose a large man as our superhero, but blame him when he doesn't shed a hundred pounds in five months and be competition ready. We select an older man as our superhero, but crack jokes when he gets a face lift once he realizes he will be competing against twenty or thirty-somethings for the ultimate superhero title.
We prey on people who are starving for acceptance and a community in which to belong; we embrace them, idolize them, project our own hopes, fantasies and dreams on them, and act surprised when they fail.
In a couple of months, the annual leather pilgrimage will take place. We will all gather to cheer, jeer, elevate, and tear down sixty or so men. As we do so, we should all try to remember that no matter how perfect their bodies or smiles may be...or how intelligent they may be....they are human beings, and they are flawed. They each have their own reason for coveting our affection, and seeking our approval. Some are incredible men, and some are narcissistic bastards and deserve to fall off the stage and break their faces. They come from all walks of life, and from all corners of the planet. They may accomplish many great things in their year; or they may accomplish nothing. We will love them, hate them, adore them, and despise them. At the end of the day we must remember that they are just like everybody else. They are not superheroes!
