The Super Social Butterfly

My social life is a unique one that I've grown to love over the years. After reading my last post you all know that I didn't have a lot of human interaction growing up. I still stray away from getting close to anybody and I developed my social life to satisfy that. Whenever I do get the chance to go out, it is always to some place new. I have never gone to the same bar or club twice in one year. After knocking back a few drinks, it is not difficult to make some new friends for the night. By making every night like this, it is like living life in Vegas. I can make a complete fool out of myself and know that I will probably never see any of those people ever again.

With my powers I can go to New York City, Amsterdam, and Moscow in the same night. I have made a system that notifies me if I am needed back home. Also, we all know the government has my number in case of emergency. Luckily, nobody has ever noticed the smell of alcohol on my breath on one of these nights. Being painted as such a boy scout in the public eye inspires me to do the opposite when nobody is looking. I've had good times with more people than I'm sure anyone else has. For one night, I am that night guy that blows everyone away, and then they'll never see me again.

A Young Hercules is Born

The story of where I came from changes from person to person. Truth is, I was born just as any other child has been. I did not land here from another planet, nor am I the son of the Christian God or any other. That said, from very early on I was different. Without divulging too much I was born in a big city somewhere in the Caribbean. By the time I was three months old I could crawl across the house faster than my father could run. At two years old I could lift my mother off of the ground. When I was taught how to swim I could stay underwater for as long as I wanted without coming up for air. Mom and Dad knew that baby boy was different and kept me sheltered from everyone in the town. I was home schooled and the only person other than my parents that ever saw me was the Catholic priest. He met with me nearly every day to teach me about religion. He passed away when I was about twelve and by that time it was getting pretty hard to keep me hidden from the world. Our family migrated to Canada so I could be free to do more than sit at home and learn.

We used aliases upon arrival to blend in. My mom and dad chose the names Mary and Joseph because of the long journey they made for their son. Nobody in our town knew they even had a child, I would spend most days in other cities, only coming home to sleep. when my parents taught me history I learned how certain nations would sit idly by as others fought wars. This always rubbed me in the wrong way as I said to myself, "If I can make a difference, I will." Becoming aware that I was gifted, I started making day trips in the USA to work out and train. By the time I was 16 I was incredibly strong and accustomed to four different styles of fighting. What inspired me to be a vigilante was those history lessons. Sure, I can't stop any wars, but I can stop robbers, rapists, and murderers in a heartbeat.

A Commercial Me

I walk around the streets to see my face plastered on things big and small. That's what I get for my vigilante work I guess, a whole lot of popularity. Action figures, billboards, video-games, and the list goes on. It seems that I can't get away from myself, definitely not the person I become. The media has turned me into some kind of DC conglomerate. The papers hail, "He is like having Batman, The Flash, and Aquaman all-in-one" like I'm a 2-for-1 shampoo and conditioner. Everyone stops to take pictures with my cutout and hell, I even do it sometimes.

I hear there is a TV show in production starring Zach Braff as me. The Scrubs star and his doughy physique are said to be on an intense workout schedule. He better not embarrass me on screen. If he does, well, the network may need a new actor on account of Zach's forced volunteer work in Africa; I hope they hire Brad Pitt. Either way, I love how I am commercialized without my consultation. On occasion I deface my billboards and steal the cutouts. They station a couple guards around these sites thinking they are going to catch the kids who do it. And to the guards, I would like to apologize, because I am responsible for you unemployment.

To My Nemesis in Cell Block 6

This next post goes out to all of you bad guys out there. Why are you always trying to keep me from getting any sleep? You and I both know how it's going to end, don't waste my time! Most of you guys don't even have any powers, that's a fair fight. Here is a tip that my hockey coach gave me growing up: always scope out the competition before the big game. You don't need to look very far to see that I am on the other side of the hypothetical ice. Do your homework, and right when you think you've found a way to take me down, start all over again because you were wrong. My dog can probably take you down with ease. Sure, Gear is the most advanced piece of technology in the world, but remember, his supersonic bark is worse than his electrostatic bite. So all of you thinking about the life of crime take my advice -- stay in school, get a job, meet a girl -- because I assure you, the partners you find in prison are not comforting.

I hope that I have deterred some readers from a life of crime and essentially pain, both physically and psychologically. But, for some of you it is too late. I hear they have a name for you in the big house, "The Fallen Judas." Personally all of these biblical parallels are starting to get me sick. Nonetheless you deserve the ridicule from your colleagues. I wonder if you would be in a different place had I published the first half of this blog a few months ago. Then again I don't really have time to ponder about the what ifs in my life or yours.

I'd like to leave The Fallen Judas and the other citizens of my city cooking up bad ideas who are soon to be one of them with one last thought. Everything was fine before you decided to act on your poor feelings towards the world. You forced me to act, not the other way around. My best days are the ones where I don't have to act and for some reason they are coming few and far between. When your anger builds up inside of you and you are ready to take it out on someone else, remember that I take my anger out on you. Take a good night's rest and you'll wake up to find it is not worth it. Help me to help you!

I'll Be your Mary Magdalene

Nearly everyone reading this doesn't know how it feels to have a super power. I'd like to pose a question to my readers. How do you switch off a super power? I would love to trust a woman with my secrets so I can just be myself around her. What would happen when we broke up? Your deepest darkest secrets are public knowledge after a bad breakup. I would have had a dozen girls go to the papers talking about their ex-boyfriend's super powers. In the meantime I have to pretend that I am running out of air when I snorkel with my girlfriend, making it seem like I can't breathe underwater. I amuse her when I pretend to struggle with a ketchup bottle that she could not open right away. When we jog in the park I have to make it seem as if I can't circle this park three times in about five seconds. If only she knew who her boyfriend was and what I am capable of. My services have made it impossible for me to have a successful relationship without living a constant lie.

My conscience is what drives me to be the savior everyone says that I am. All of the lies eventually eat me up until the point where I am sabotaging my relationship to stop the deceit. Even if I got to the point in a relationship where I felt comfortable enough to tell her that she is dating the one they call "The Masked Jesus"-which is extremely unlikely-she would then know how much I have lied. I don't know about you, but I would have a hard time trusting someone who could keep me fooled for years without showing me who they really are.

To really someday be happy I would have to date the director of the CIA or one of the the other four women who know my alias. That is a rather small dating pool if you asked me. I can only hope one of them is reading this. If you are one of those women and you are interested, you should be extra friendly the next time I get into the office. Better yet let's develop a code phrase, "I'll be your Mary Magdalene." Readers, I'll keep you updated.

It's All in a Name

The Masked Jesus, what a ridiculous name. I was completely off the grid and the names people were giving me seemed to be cool sometimes. Man do I wish that The Costumed Badass That was until that couple came out and said they were my parents, thanks mom and dad. With the destruction of my birth records and any other traceable assets the media couldn't find my real name. My parents were in it for the attention but luckily weren't dumb enough to expose my name. So the tabloids gave me a name all on their own. "Son of Mary and Joseph Cooper, he is our Masked Jesus!" I think the name is a little much; it is easy to be a savior when you are a man like me. It definitely is not like I am making some grand sacrifice for you people. My real service is to myself. I do this so I can sleep at night, that is, when I get to sleep.

Those very high up in the United States government know my everyday alias. My true identity is known by very little. Even the people who DID know me wouldn't recognize me today. Contact with my parents has been hazy since their media explosion seeing as there always seems to be a reporter camped outside their Canadian home. Protection for them after their stupid publicity stunt is the only reason I've had to even coordinate with the government. I offered my assistance directly if they could protect my parents from some of those lunatics out there. I wished I didn't have to be Uncle Sam's secret weapon, but sometimes things don't turn out the way you planned.