By Ward Rubrecht

http://www.citypages.com/content/printVersion/361255

Geist’s breath fogs the winter air as he surveys the frozen Minneapolis skyline, searching for signs of trouble. His long duster flaps in the breeze as his eyes flick behind reflective sunglasses; a wide-brim hat and green iridescent mask shroud his identity from those who might wish him harm.

Should a villain attack, the Emerald Enforcer carries a small arsenal to defend himself: smoke grenades, pepper spray, a slingshot, and a pair of six-inch fighting sticks tucked into sturdy leather boots. Leather guards protect Geist’s arms; his signature weapon, an Argentinean cattle-snare called bolos, hangs from a belt-holster.

A mission awaits and time is of the essence, so Geist eases his solid frame, honed from martial arts training, into his trusty patrol vehicle—a salt-covered beige sedan. Unfamiliar with the transportation tangle of downtown, he pulls a MapQuest printout from his pocket, discovering his goal is but a short cruise down Washington Avenue.

Soon Geist faces his first obstacle: parking on the left side of a one-way street. “Usually one of my superpowers is parallel parking,” he chuckles as he eases his car into the spot, emerging victorious with a foot and a half between curb and tire. He feeds a gauntleted fistful of quarters into the parking meter, and then pops the trunk on the Geistmobile to retrieve his precious cargo. On the street, he encounters businesspeople on lunch break—some stare openly; others don’t even notice his garish attire. “It’s easier in winter,” Geist says with a laugh. “Winter in Minnesota, everybody’s dressed weird.”

Finally, his destination is in sight: People Serving People, a local homeless shelter. Geist strides boldly into the lobby—a cramped, noisy room where kids and adults mill about chatting—and heaves his stuffed paper bags onto the counter. “I have some groceries to donate,” he tells Dean, the blond-bearded security guard on duty, whose placid expression suggests superheroes pop in on a regular basis. “And I have an hour on the meter if there’s anything I can do to help out.”

Wendy Darst, the volunteer coordinator, looks taken aback but gladly puts the superhero to work. Soon the Jade Justice finds himself hip-deep in a supply closet, piling books into a red Radio Flyer wagon. He wheels it back to the lobby, entreating the children to select a text. But the kids seem more interested in peppering him with questions. “So are you a cowboy or something?” one boy asks.

Geist kneels down to reply with a camera-ready grin, “Maybe a super-secret, space-cowboy detective!”

Another kid, awed by the uniform, just stares silently. “Hi,” Geist says with a smile, holding out his hand in greeting. “I’m a real-life superhero.”

The kid grabs Geist’s leather-clad mitt and grins back. “I’m four!”

Such is the life of Minnesota’s only superhero—a man in his mid-40s who sold off his comic book collection to fund a dream borne of those very pages. Unlike his fictional inspirations, he hasn’t yet found any villains to apprehend in Rochester, a sleepy city of 95,000 about 80 miles south of Minneapolis. But that doesn’t mean he’s wasting his time, he says. “When you put on this costume and you do something for someone, it’s like, ‘Wow, I am being a hero,’ and that is a great feeling.”

BY MOST OBSERVERS’ RECKONING, between 150 and 200 real-life superheroes, or “Reals” as some call themselves, operate in the United States, with another 50 or so donning the cowl internationally. These crusaders range in age from 15 to 50 and patrol cities from Indianapolis to Cambridgeshire, England. They create heroic identities with names like Black Arrow, Green Scorpion, and Mr. Silent, and wear bright Superman spandex or black ninja suits. Almost all share two traits in common: a love of comic books and a desire to improve their communities.

It’s rare to find more than a few superheroes operating in the same area, so as with all hobbies, a community has sprung up online. In February, a burly, black-and-green-clad New Jersey-based Real named Tothian started Heroes Network, a website he says functions “like the UN for the real-life superhero community.”

The foremost designer of real-life superhero costumes lives in New Brighton, Minnesota. His given name is Michael Brinatte, but he pro wrestles under the name Jack T. Ripper. At 6’2″, with bulldog shoulders, he looks more likely to suplex you than shake your hand. It’s hard to imagine him behind a sewing machine, carefully splicing together bits of shiny spandex, but when the 39-year-old father of three needed to give his wrestling persona a visual boost, that’s just where he found himself, drawing on his only formal tailoring education: seventh-grade home economics. He discovered he had a talent for it, and before long was sewing uniforms and masks for fellow wrestlers, learning techniques to make his work durable enough to withstand the rigors of hand-to-hand combat.

After he posted photos of his masks on the internet, he met his first real-life superhero: Entomo the Insect Man, a crimefighter and “masked detective” based in Naples, Italy. Entomo wanted Brinatte to make him a mask to incorporate into his black-and-olive uniform. A lifelong comic fan, Brinatte took the assignment seriously, and it showed in the stitching. When Entomo showed off his new mask to the community of Reals, Brinatte started getting more orders: a green-and-black bodysuit for Hardwire, a blue-and-white Z-emblazoned uniform for Zetaman. Eventually, Brinatte started a website, www.hero-gear.net, to formalize his business, and now spends 10 to 15 hours each week making superhero uniforms. “They have a good heart and believe in what they’re doing, and they’re a lot of fun to talk to,” Brinatte says.

His super friends are starting to get publicity. Last October, an organization called Superheroes Anonymous issued an invitation to any and all real-life superheroes: Come to Times Square to meet other Reals face-to-face and discuss the future of the movement. The community roiled with discussion of the invitation—was it a trap by an as-yet-unknown real-life super villain? In the end, only a dozen Reals attended, but the gathering attracted the notice of the New York Times and the BBC, which gave the budding league of justice worldwide ink.

“We’re basically normal people who just find an unusual way to do something good,” Geist says. “Once you get suited up, you’re a hero and you’ve got to act like one.”

SO YOU’VE DECIDED to become a real-life superhero. Like Wolverine, you’ve chosen a secret identity and a uniform. But unlike the X-Man, you don’t have retractable claws or a mutant healing factor. How do you make up the difference?

Most Reals use a combination of martial arts and weaponry. The Eye is a 49-year-old crimebuster from Mountain View, California, who wears a Green Hornet-inspired fedora and trench coat. Though he focuses mainly on detective work and crime-tip reporting, he prepares himself for hand-to-hand combat by studying kung fu and wielding an arsenal of light-based weapons designed to dazzle enemies.

“In movies, a ninja will have some powder or smoke to throw at you to distract,” he explains. “That’s essentially what I’m trying to do.”

All superheroes have origins, and The Eye is no exception. He grew up tinkering with electronic gadgetry, first with his dad, then in the employ of a Silicon Valley company (he’s reluctant to say which one). The Eye considers himself “on-duty” at all times, so when a co-worker started pimping fake Rolex watches to others in his office, the Paragon of Perception sprang into action. He went into work early, snuck into the watch-monger’s office to locate the stash of counterfeit merchandise, and then dropped a dime to Crimestoppers. Ultimately, police wouldn’t prosecute unless The Eye revealed his secret identity—a concession he was unwilling to make—but he nonetheless chalks it up as a victory. “We stopped him from doing this,” The Eye says. “He knows someone’s watching.”

For sheer investment in gadgetry, none top Superhero, an ex-Navy powerlifter from Clearwater, Florida. His patrol vehicle is a burgundy 1975 Corvette Stingray with a souped-up 425-horsepower engine. He wears a flight helmet installed with a police scanner and video camera, and carries an extendable Cobra tactical baton, a flash gun, sonic grenades, and a canister of bear mace. Topping off the one-man armory is an Arma 100 stun cannon, a 37mm nitrogen-powered projectile device. His ammo of choice? Sandwiches. “Nothing stops them in their tracks like peanut butter and jelly,” he explains in a video demonstration posted online.

Once you’ve honed your body and strapped on your utility belt, it’s time to decide how to focus your heroic efforts. Within the community of Reals, there’s a buffet of choices. Some choose mundane tasks—The Cleanser strolls around picking up trash, while Direction Man helps lost tourists find where they’re going. Most Reals also lend their personages to charities, donating to food banks or organizing clothing drives.

Other Reals scoff at the idea of being a glorified Salvation Army bell-ringer and instead go looking for action. “I fight evil,” says Tothian, the New Jersey crimefighter who founded Heroes Network. “I don’t think picking up garbage is superheroic.”

Master Legend, a chrome-suited 41-year-old from Winter Park, Florida, patrols the streets looking for crimes in progress, and claims his efforts have paid off. “I’ve dumped garbage cans over crackheads’ heads, I slam their heads against the wall, whatever it takes,” the Silver Slugger says with bravado. “They try to hit me first, and then it’s time for Steel Toe City.”

IN 1986, ALAN MOORE RELEASED his magnum opus, Watchmen, a 12-issue comic series whose conceit was built on a simple premise: What would it be like if superheroes existed in real life? Besides helping to usher in a new age of “mature” graphic novels, the series foreshadowed some of the complications facing real-life superheroes today.

For instance: How to balance crime fighting with family life? Zetaman, a goateed, black-and-blue-clad Real hailing from Portland, Oregon, got married seven years go, but only recently started his career as a costumed crusader. He says his wife’s reaction to his new hobby was lukewarm—she made him promise not to go out at night, and told him to focus on charity work instead of fisticuffs. “She thinks it’s a phase,” he says with a laugh.

The media can be even less charitable, as Captain Jackson, a gray-and-yellow-suited hero from Michigan, discovered in October 2005. That’s when a headline appeared in the Jackson Citizen Patriot that could’ve been penned by J. Jonah Jameson himself: “Crime Fighter Busted for Drunk Driving.” The article unmasked Captain Jackson as Thomas Frankini, a 49-year-old factory worker who’d been arrested for driving with a blood-alcohol level of 0.135 percent. The story was picked up by the Detroit Free Press and Fox News. Frankini was devastated. “My patrol days are over, I’m afraid,” he said.

Unlike in the comics, real-life Commissioner Gordons rarely express gratitude for superheroes’ help. One evening when Master Legend was on patrol, he heard a woman scream and ran to investigate. But when he located the damsel in distress, she thought he was attacking her and called the cops. “They wanted to know if I was some kind of insane man, a 41-year-old man running around in a costume,” he recounts. “Apparently, they had never heard of me.”

Bernard, a sharp-featured, 33-year-old police detective from suburban Philadelphia who asked that his last name be withheld, has become something of a rabbi to the online community of Reals. When he first stumbled upon the phenomenon, he thought, “These people are nuts.” But as he learned more, he saw how the costumed do-gooders could make a difference. “They’re definitely committed, and their heart is in the right place.”

Most Reals are harmless enough, but Bernard worries about the bloodlust displayed by a small segment of the community. A recent thread on Heroes Network debated whether it was appropriate for a Real to carry a shotgun in his patrol vehicle. These aggressive Reals don’t realize how difficult it is to apprehend criminals in the real world, Bernard says. “It’s not like drug dealers stand around with quarter ounces of cocaine, throwing them in the air and saying ‘Here’s drugs for sale,'” he says. “Let’s imagine that one of them does come across a drug dealer, gives them a roundhouse kick to the head, and finds a whole bag of pot in his pocket. Nobody’s going to celebrate that. If anything, now you’re going to have a huge fiasco. Let’s face it—the world is complicated. You don’t solve anything by punching somebody.”

Rumor has it that a Real named Nostrum recently lost an eye in the line of duty, and some wonder if it will take a fatality to jolt the community out of its four-color fantasy. Wall Creeper, a 19-year-old who fights crime in Colorado, even seems to welcome the possibility. “To die doing something so noble would be the best thing to happen,” he says.

JIM WAYNE KEPT HIS EYE OUT in his hometown of Phoenix, Arizona—and the bald 40-year-old didn’t like what he saw. “Somewhere along the line we’ve stopped caring about each other and started caring about ourselves,” he says.

Two years ago, Wayne saw a commercial for Who Wants to Be a Superhero?—a reality show in which costumed contestants compete for the honor of starring in their own comic book—and something inside him clicked.

“Ever since I was a kid, if you asked any of my friends or family who they knew that should be a superhero, they’d probably say me,” he says.

Wayne dreamed up Citizen Prime, a persona patterned after his favorite comic book character, Captain America. “He, even more than Superman or Batman, epitomizes what a hero is: someone who stands up for their principles and goes out there to help people,” Wayne says. To bring his alter ego to life, Wayne spent $4,000 on custom-made armor—everything from a shiny chest plate to a bright yellow cape and a sloping steel helmet. “I made a commitment to make this and wear it and create this presence and see where that takes me,” he says.

Initially, it didn’t take him far. “There’s a reason why police are always coming after crimes,” he says. “It’s one of those fictions in comics when superheroes are walking down the street and hear a scream. I found out real quickly that patrolling for patrolling’s sake seems like a lost effort.”

That realization sparked a change in how he thought about his role. “I think even though there’s some fun to be had in the kick-ass aspect of comics, it’s fiction and fantasy and we know it,” he says. “As you translate those icons over to the real world, you have to face truths, such as violence begets violence.”

So Prime hung up the bulletproof vest and tactical baton and began volunteering for charity work. He teamed with Kids Defense, an organization aimed at protecting kids from internet predators, and allied with the Banner Desert Hospital pediatrics wing, offering to personally pick up toys from anyone who wanted to donate to the holiday drive. “I want to get people out there to create a presence in the community,” he says. “You make a presence of good in the community and the darker elements retreat.”

Recently, he started his own nonprofit called the League of Citizen Heroes. The organization, as he envisions it, will draw on an army of volunteers—both masked and unmasked—to contribute to the greater good. “That’s the level of sophistication that I think the movement’s moving towards,” he says, “We don’t have to just be patrolling the dark streets.”

Superhero, one of the first recruits to the League, shares Wayne’s dream, but is less philosophical when it comes to why, when all is said and done, he decided to put on a costume.

“I horse-shitted myself into thinking I was being a symbol for people and all that,” Superhero says. “But then I just faced the truth and admitted I do it ’cause it’s hella fun.”

April 04, 2008

By Dan Rafter

Holy Batman! People are taking a page from the Caped Crusader’s comic book and turning themselves into superheroes- even though they don’t have any special powers!

Donning eye-catching costumes, real-life superheroes with names like Squeegeeman, Dark Guardian and Entomo the Insect Man have begun appearing across the United States and around the globe- in a movement to make the world a better place. But these crusaders for justice- estimated at 225 around the world, include about 175 in the United States- are often less concerned with bashing heads than feeding the homeless, saving the environment or just doing good.

Squeegeeman has vowed to clean up New York City, one windshied or city block at a time. New Yorkers who don’t get mugged while walking n a clean street should probably praise the caped cleaner.

Martial arts expert Geist of Rochester, Minn., confronts evildoers with a wide-brimmed hat, reflective sunglasses, a scarf-like mask and a array of non-lethal weapons, including smoke grenades and a 6-inch fighting stick.

Citizen Prime of Phoenix spent $4,000 on a custom-made costume- including a steel helmet and breast-plate and yellow cape. And when his foot patrols don’t find enough crime, he volunteers for crime-prevention causes and children’s charities.

A secretive martial arts instructor patrols New York City’s Staten Island as Dark Guardian, while wearing spandex fit for a professional wrestler. The 23-year-old hero recently held a convenience store robber at bay until the cops arrived.

Hardwire, 20 of Greensboro-Durham, N.C., describes himself as a “tech hero, like Batman with the attitude,” while Entomo the Insect Man give Spider-Man a run for his bugged-out reputation in Naples, Italy, declaring: “I inject justice.”

In Portland, Ore., the needy can count on Zetaman to make regular rounds distributing free food and clothing. To protect himself and those he serves, Zetaman carries pepper spray, an extendable steel baton and a Taser packing 30,000 volts.

examiner01 | examiner02

Orignially posted: http://technology.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/tech_and_web/article3652004.ece

Worried that the world is going to hell? Why not slip on a pair of tights and a mask and do something about it?

By Michael Moran
April 5, 2008

Many of us bemoan the weakening of social cohesion that has led to an explosion of petty crime on our streets. Very few complainants, though, are inspired to don a superhero costume and patrol our cities to combat the burgeoning unpleasantness.

However, that might be about to change, with the advent of the real-life superheroes. Citizen Prime (above) is the most convincing of the bunch, patrolling the streets of Phoenix, Arizona, in his impressive custom-made armour. Further down the budgetary scale come Terrifica, who offers safe-sex advice to tipsy female clubgoers in New York, and the Big O, from Tunbridge Wells, who stops hooligans vandalising hanging baskets or defacing tea-shop frontages.

Hundreds of costumed crime fighters are listed on The World Heroics Database and the World Superhero Registry – but their biggest problem is that not one of them currently has an arch-enemy listed on their profile.

Sadly, without a stock of supervillains, real-life superheroes are little more than a particularly flamboyant Neighbourhood Watch

Originally posted: http://www.cityweekly.net/utah/article-6056-feature-slc-superheroes-the-black-monday-society-keeps-an-eye-out-for-street-crime-so-you-donrst-have-to.html

By Paul Constant

They hide their true identities behind elaborate masks and costumes, patrolling the streets of downtown Salt Lake City in groups of two and three. People react to them in various ways: Older folks tend to ignore them. Drunken young adults want to pose with them for photos. Teenagers tend to hiss, growl and shout in their general direction, while children walk right up to them and ask what they are doing. Despite the masks and secret identities, they’re completely open about their purpose.

“Inferno,” one of the newest members of the group, is unfazed by the evening chill. He passes by a group of teens. One of them shouts: “Halloween’s not over!” Inferno winces, rolls his eyes, and responds, in the bored tone of someone who’s tired of hearing the same joke over and over again, “Nope, it’s not.” A girl of about 14 breaks from the mass of tittering boys and bravely approaches Inferno. He’s wearing a red hood and tunic, thigh-high pleather boots, and a matching black pleather mask that covers his eyes and nose. She breaks the awkward silence: “Can I ask about your costume?”

Inferno nods, unconsciously touches his red goatee and answers: “I’m part of the Black Monday Society.”

The girl cocks her head. “The Black Monday Society?”

“Yeah,” Inferno begins, a little more comfortable now, getting into a well-worn groove, “We just walk around, you know, patrol the streets.”

“Like Citizens on Patrol?” adds the girl, invoking the title of the fourth Police Academy movie. Her friends seem to get the reference and break into laughter.

Inferno brightens. “Yeah. “Citizens on patrol.”

“Cool!” says the girl, and despite the fact that her male friends are still hanging back—way back—and giggling, she seems to be genuinely happy about the idea. Inferno smiles and hands her a business card.

“We have a Website,” he says. “Look us up, it’ll tell you more about what we do. That’s pretty much what it’s about. It’s a lot of fun.”

“OK,” she says, waving goodbye with the card and running back to her friends, “Have fun!”

“You, too,” Inferno says. “Bye.”

And then he goes back to patrolling the streets, keeping his eye out for danger, wherever it lurks.

We Need Another Hero

The Black Monday Society started five years ago, when a Salt Lake City-area tattoo artist and lifelong comic-book fan named Dave went exploring on MySpace. “I always told my wife, even before we got married, that if I ever see a real superhero, I’m so going to be one,” he says. “Come on, just the idea of wearing a mask, going out, doing something good? Being somebody else for a little bit? Doesn’t that sound a little enthralling to you?”

After doing a search for comic-book-related fan groups, Dave happened upon the Web pages of two Indianapolis men who go by the names “Mr. Silent” and “Doktor DiscorD.” They called themselves Real Life Superheroes, and they went on patrol on the Indianapolis streets searching for wrongs to right.

“So,” Dave says, “I set up a MySpace page, made an identity for myself, just to talk to them, and it kind of evolved from there. It was really inspiring.”

Dave couldn’t believe this was happening, that his childhood obsession was taking shape, and that people all over the world were a part of it. “I went home to my wife and told her about it and she said, ‘Wow,’ and then she said, ‘Is this for real?’ and I said, ‘Yeah,’ and she said, ‘So, when do you go out?’ and I said, ‘As soon as possible.’”

Like all Real Life Superheroes, Dave, 37, uses only his first name, and he’d rather go by his character’s name anyway. His first superhero identity was “The American Corpse.” He dressed in an Israeli army gas mask, fedora and a suit and tie, much like classic DC Comics superhero The Sandman. Dave’s good friend, a very tall man with a lazy Johnny Cash drawl, says he’s “always been fascinated by ghosts and goblins and demons and things of that nature,” so he decided to call himself “Ghost.” He made a costume of a rubber Halloween skeleton mask adorned with a shock of white hair and a matching ribcage on his chest. Ghost is 32 and works in real life as a concrete finisher. Quiet and unassuming, he explains his unusual hobby by saying, “It’s every little boy’s fantasy to be a real life superhero.”

Ghost sums up his passion for the street with a comment on his blog: “Doesn’t matter how many people snicker at us. What matters is we are out there doin’ our duty for justice.”

Recounting their first night out on patrol in 2001, American Corpse and Ghost say they were standing by their car on a city street having a smoke. A Salt Lake City cop on patrol approached them and pulled over. American Corpse says he decided to slowly approach her to explain their costumes and superheroic intent. She firmly told them, “Please stand by the hood of the car.” American Corpse kept walking toward the officer, then reached into his jacket to pull out his wallet and identification.Reacting to Corpse’s decision to keep moving, the officer put her hand on her revolver and shouted, “Stand by the hood of the car, now!” American Corpse says he wasn’t even really thinking but decided to try and calm the situation by saying, “It’s OK, ma’am, don’t worry. Relax; I’m a superhero.”

The cop eventually let them move on, but the heroes claim the Black Monday Society is on the Salt Lake City Police Department’s official list of street gangs. A spokesman for the SLCPD would not confirm that statement.

When Flats Need Fixing

If a healthy number of Websites and blogs are any indication, there are hundreds of Real Life Superheroes around the world, mainly operating out of urban areas. One of the best known is “Citizen Prime,” an RLS from Phoenix. Prime is a husband, father and office worker who puts on a costume (or uniform, as the RLS community prefers) with intent to fight crime. Though Prime does carry a pair of intriguingly named “stun-knuckles” in case he has to protect himself or others, most of the work he does fits neatly within the category of good Samaritanism—flat-tire repair and making speeches to elementary-school students about the dangers of drug use. But in the past year, buoyed by increased media attention, Prime has also started a successful toy drive to help needy children.

Prime, an office worker in his 40s, has a certain charisma, the kind usually seen in community organizers and old-fashioned politicians. In conversations, he’s prone to wholesome expressions like, “Oh, my gosh,” and “Gee,” sounding like a real-life Jimmy Stewart. He vouches for the Black Monday Society, implicitly. “They’re really good guys. I’ve had contact with them for a while now, and they seem like the real deal.” Prime visited the Black Monday Society over the long winter, but—human as they were—the heroes decided it was too cold to patrol. Still, one hero wrote on his blog that “we did suit up and take some photos,” and that “more team-ups will happen when it gets a little warmer.”

New Real Life Superheroes seem to appear every day. They add their photos and biographies to Websites like RealLifeSuperheroes.com and share their thoughts on weaponry, good deeds and other topics on blogs such as Heroes Network. There’s the Justice Society of Justice, based in Indianapolis; The Boise Brigade, and, from Washington, D.C., the Capitol City Super Squad. “Zetaman” patrols the streets of Portland, Ore., wearing a utility belt loaded with a first-aid kit, a baton and a Taser, among other gadgets.

Polarman shovels the snow-covered sidewalks of Iqalulit, the capital city of Canada’s youngest province, Nunavut—located north of Quebec on Baffin Island. Entomo the Insect Man claims to protect Naples, Italy, and frequents superhero message boards with hilariously Roberto Benigni-esque broken English comments. His MySpace page boasts a mission statement: “To be a Real Life Superhero is truly the greatest deed a man can accomplish in a backwards world like this, where fiction is truer to reality than reality itself. On the other hand, the chance to fight for such a stunning planet is too significant to be turned down. Hear my buzz, fear my bite,” and it ends, as all his posts do, with his tagline: “I inject justice!”

Whole businesses have sprung up around the RLS life. Hero-Gear.net deals in costumes for Real Life Superheroes. Armories that produce chain mail and weapons for Renaissance fair actors have started to sell to the RLS community, as well. Dressing up like a superhero and going on patrol seems to be looking less like a bizarre pastime than it does a lifestyle choice, according to some of the heroes. Think teenagers going goth or animal-rights activists fervently volunteering for PETA.

The media is giddily spreading the word about RLS. Some television stations have struck a gold mine in covering regional “superteams,” packing their reports with references to Batmobiles and “Pow! Bang! Boom!” sound effects. A reporter from Rolling Stone went on patrol with the Black Monday Society last fall (though the magazine has yet to publish the story) and several filmmakers are rushing to finish documentaries about the Real Life Superhero movement. Members of The Black Monday Society claim one documentary maker told them that, to be featured in his film, they’d have to sign the rights to their superhero identities away to him. They declined. Another filmmaker and his subjects hosted a Times Square publicity stunt covered in The New York Times last October. Your Friendly Neighborhood Superhero, a recently completed documentary, is scheduled for various film festivals this spring. See RealLifeSuperhero.com for a snippet of the film.

Internet reaction to the RLS movement is mixed. RLS and superhero fans are continuously posting words of encouragement on each other’s blogs. But, as soon as a non-RLS site notices them, the general public, hidden securely behind a guise of anonymity, tears them to shreds. After a story about Silent and DiscorD appeared on comic-book writer Warren Ellis’s blog, the posters unanimously decided that RLSs were endangering themselves, if not others. One commenter, Monk Eastman, summed up the feelings this way: “I predict the following headline: ‘Oddly Dressed Virgin Found Shot 1,123 Times.’”

“A Little Gimmicky?”

Dave quickly dropped the American Corpse persona for another identity: a tights-wearing street fighter named Ferox. Ferox is reserved for Dave’s patrols farther north in Ogden. When in Salt Lake City, Dave is Insignis, a robed figure with a giant white cross across his chest. “The most easily recognizable symbol in the world is the cross,” he explains, “So what better symbol to have?” (The two names are derived from a large tattoo across his back that reads “Insignis Ferox,” Latin for “Mark of the Wild One.”)
After those first few patrols with Ghost, Insignis’ friends were quick to join them. The team grew to 13 members strong in a matter of months. The group originally patrolled on Mondays—hence the name—but “things are much more likely to happen on Fridays and Saturdays, so the Monday thing didn’t last long,” Insignis says. They stuck with the name primarily because “it sounds cool.”

New identities are common with the Black Monday Society: Inferno took his name because of a fiery temper he admits used to get him in trouble before becoming a RLS. But the 33-year-old recently decided to focus on his sense of humor by becoming “Ha!,” a clown-themed superhero.

Oni, 36, based his identity on a Japanese demon. He’s married to a woman the team calls “Mother One.” She creates most of their costumes by hand. “She’s very supportive of this,” Oni says. Most of the team, including 38-year-old occasional member “Silver Dragon,” a thin man with a thick Southern accent, are married. They say their wives are proud of them but balked at a reporter’s request to speak with the women. Earlier this year, Oni went on his first patrol with his daughter, who will take the name “Frost” as soon as she has a costume. “I was very nervous and excited at the same time;” he wrote on his blog. “I hoped that nothing would happen on her first time out. I am proud that she wants to give back to the community and help people that need it.”

The heroes say they have been spending more time in Ogden lately because of what they perceive as increased gang activity. Ogden Mayor Matthew Godfrey takes issue with that claim: “We have had a seven-year decline of crime in Ogden and one of the keys to that is getting the community involved. Having neighbors be vigilant and engaged is a critical ingredient to safer neighborhoods.” Godfrey adds that the Black Monday Society “fits in” with this push for community involvement. Although he finds them “a little gimmicky,” Godfrey allows that, “We will take their participation any way we can get it.” The Salt Lake City Police Department had no comment on the Black Monday Society. Lt. Paul Jaroscak, spokesman for the Salt Lake County Sheriff’s Department, says he has “no knowledge or comment” regarding the group.

If the local cops are sketchy on their knowledge of the superheroes, it might be due to the group’s lack of clarity. What, exactly, does the Black Monday Society do? They talk about “helping people” and “helping the homeless.” But, on one evening this past November, the patrol’s big events included a photo session with a gaggle of drunken college students, some heckling from passersby and a thumbs-up from an enthusiastic tourist from Minneapolis, who wished there was something like this “back home.” The patrol also handed out a couple of dollars to a homeless man with the telltale facial scabs of heavy meth use.

The team contends the patrols are its work, and that members curb crime simply by being seen. And Silver Dragon says there’s proof: “I’ve heard from friends that, after we patrol a particular neighborhood, there’s no crime there for the rest of the night.” That November patrol was one of the last crime-fighting excursions of 2007. The team has laid low for the winter, declaring Salt Lake City’s long, harsh winter too cold to patrol. But they plan on taking to the streets again, now that spring has arrived.

Oni, the only member of the Black Monday Society with extensive martial-arts training, recalls one time when he confronted a drug-addled man who was abusing his mother in a city park. “The first thing we do is call the cops,” he says, “in any situation.” Most superheroes will, in fact, say the same thing. They strongly advise against getting directly involved in police calls.

After calling 911, Oni and Ghost approached the man. They say he promptly relented when confronted with men dressed as demons. Insignis also recalls a time they chased after a drunk man who was standing by the side of the road, trying to punch passing cars. The man got away, but Insignis says, laughing, “He probably won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

Outside Salt Lake City, the superhero action is getting a little more feverish and a lot less law abiding. Rumors have spread in the RLS community that one of their own, a man known as “Nostrum,” based in Louisiana, has lost an eye doing battle with a criminal. An RLS from Florida known as “Master Legend” claims to attack evildoers, bashing garbage cans over the heads of crack fiends and kicking others with his steel-toe boots. Another man, known as “Hero,” has quit fighting crime and is taking up ultimate fighting. “There is only one thing I can always count on, one thing that will always be there and that is the fight. The fight is all I have,” he recently blogged.

The Black Monday Society has set up an office, and Oni says they are working to gain legal status as a non-profit organization. “As soon as we do that, it’ll open up a lot more doorways for us so we can start receiving money and we can help more people,” he says, adding that “I’d like to do more than just help the homeless. I’d like to start helping abused and battered women. Things like that.”

In a parking lot after the patrol, the team gathers to smoke cigarettes and share a laugh or two. Inferno refers to Insignis as “Father O’Malley,” and asks him if his sidekick’s name is “Altar Boy.” Insignis laughs it off but then snaps back on message, insisting that the Black Monday Society is seeking more than fun and fame: “Instead of being the guy on the couch saying ‘God, I wish somebody would do something,’ I get to be the guy on the couch who says, ‘Yeah, I did something!’ or, ‘At least I tried.’ No regrets, no nothing. Just pure do.”

Originally posted: http://www.zimbio.com/10+Real+Life+Superheroes+Who+Have+Actually+Made+a+Difference

Written by JJ on Jul-20-09 3:52am

The Real Life Superhero (RLS) pheneomenon has steadily picked up steam over the last decade. Just like in Alan Moore‘s comic classic Watchmen, otherwise normal people are suiting up and fighting crime.

Some have attributed the rise of the RLS to the recent popularity of comic book heroes, while others have interpreted it as a cultural response to the national tragedy of 9/11.

Whatever the case, these Real Life Superheroes walk the streets of cities throughout the world (though many are based in the United States) working for the good of their communities. From Rolling Stone to the Associated Press, their adventures have been documented. And while many ridicule the grown men and women who wander the streets in outlandish costumes, it’s undeniable that many are serious about giving back to the community.

Here are 10 Real Life Superheroes who have actually made a difference:

#10 Alain Robert, the Human Spider

Born: August 7, 1962
Location: Worldwide (Based in Paris)
Special Ability: To climb up the sides of skyscrapers
Nemisis: Police
Means of Transport: Climbing shoes

Everyone on this list has made a difference in some way, but not everyone on this list actually possesses some superhuman power over the physical world.

While Alain Robert‘s ability is no mutant power, it doesn’t even seem possible that a human should be able to climb like he climbs. Robert has climbed many of the world’s tallest structures. He climbed the Sears Tower (recently renamed Willis Tower) in 1999, completing the climb even after heavy fog made the surface dangerously slick. In all, Robert has climbed more than 85 skyscrapers.

And how has he made a difference? By furthering his political goals of course. Robert is an outspoken activist who has taken up the banner of environmentalism in the fight against global warming. In February, 2009, when Robert climbed the Cheung Kong Centre in Hong Kong, he first unfurled a banner directing people to the global warming Web site onehundredmonths.org. Then in April of 2009, he climbedthe Lloyd’s building in London and unfurled a similar banner.

But the grandaddy was his June, 2008 climbing of the New York Times building. Upon reaching the top of the building, Robert let fly a banner declaring, “Global warming kills more people than 9/11 every week.” That’s a ballsy way to get a message across in New York. At least the man stays on point.

#9 Citizen Prime

Location:Arizona
Purpose: To educate children and the public at large on safety and preparedness
True Identity: Jim, an executive at an unnamed financial institution
Means of Transport: Xterra
Cost of Costume: $4,000

Not all caped crusaders are losers with nothing better to do, and Citizen Prime is proof.

A financial executive by day, Citizen Prime donns his $4,000 costume, which includes custom-made breast plate armor, and patrols the streets. Citizen Prime separates himself from other neighborhood watch style “superheroes” by distributing literature on how to help in the community and making appearances to talk to children about drugs and crime.

While Citizen Prime has said he respects the work of other superheroes, like the Black Monday Society in Salt Lake City, he takes a different approach by focusing on community involvement. He says the most useful tool at his disposal is a keen sense of humor for diffusing awkward situations.

#8 Polar Man

Location:Iqaluit, Nunavet; Canada
Notable For: Shoveling snow from driveways
Mode of Transport: Not a polar bear
Special Ability: Resistance to cold and isolation

Clad all in black and white with his trusty shovel, nary a snow-covered driveway stands a chance when Polar Man is on the case.

While a snow-shoveling hero from an isolated Canadian town of less than 7,000 might seem laughable, Polar Man has truly made a difference. Not only does he clear walkways for the elderly, he also tidies playgrounds in the summer and takes a keen interest in participating in community events.

Most of the heroes on this list come from major metropolitan areas, which sort of makes Polar Man more valuable. After all, what better way is there to make a sleepy town more interesting than by patrolling the streets and calling yourself a superhero?

Polar Man models himself on an Inuit legend where an unknown white man riding a polar bear brings food and clothing to people in need. It’s just too bad no one has figured out how to use polar bears as a means of transportation, because a snow shoveler on a polar bear would be truly awesome.

#7 Superhero

Born:c. 1969
Location: Clearwater, Florida
Mode of Transport: 1975 Corvette Stingray
Qualifications: Navy veteran; Police Academy training; professional bodyguard; training in wrestling and boxing
Personal Style: Loud and proud
True Identity: Dale Pople

It’s a tad redundant to be a superhero named Superhero, but what this Florida crimefighter lacks in creativity, he makes up for in style.

Superhero has made a difference not only by showing up at events and showing off his Corvette and bright red Spandex. Sure that tends to leave an impression on people (and not always the good kind), but Superhero’s real contribution is patrolling the roads and helping people in need of assistance — like people who need a flat tire changed.

“I don’t really know when I made the transition, but just all of a sudden one day it seemed like a good idea to put on my costume and go out and help people with roadside assistance.”

Superhero has proven socially adept enough to find himself a Lady Hero, a fellow superhero in training and girlfriend who he says he met in a gym, where he taught her how to do squat thrusts.

Whether you think Superhero is awesome or ridiculous, (there doesn’t seem to be much middle ground), he does get points for having the coolest mode of transport, and being an actual bodyguard. When Watchmen and Little Children star Patrick Wilson showed up in Florida for the Sunscreen Film Festival, Superhero was on hand to work security.

#6 Troy Hurtubise

Born:November 23, 1963
Location: Hamilton, Ontario; Canada
Nemisis: Grizzly Bears
Purpose: To invent ground-breaking safety gear and body armor
You May Know Him From: The Discovery Channel, Project Grizzly

Not a superhero in the traditional sense of the word, think of Troy Hurtubise as the poor man’s Tony Stark (that’s Iron Man for all you non-nerds).

Like those traditional heroes, Troy does have an origin story. Back in 1984, while hiking near Humidity Creek in British Columbia, Troy was attacked by a grizzly bear. He defied the odds by surviving the attack, but was soon consumed with his desire to know more about the fearsome juggernaut of the natural world. But to get close enough to really learn about grizzly bears, he’d have to get close… really really close. Like close enough that he might be attacked again.

Troy’s epiphany came while watching Robocop in his college dorm room in 1987. While most of us would probably disregard any epiphany brought on by a Paul Vanderhoeven film about a half-machine supercop, Troy spent the next 7 years, and most of his money, on developing a bear-proof suit.

The various iterations of Troy’s suit have been the subject of television shows, pop culture references, and even the documentary Project Grizzly. He tests them himself to prove that his suits can withstand being slammed by a swinging log, beaten with baseball bats and even hit by a car.

Troy is currently trying to make a difference by creating body armor for use in combat situations. His most recent suit was based on the Halo videogame and features an air conditioned helmet, a magnetic holster, and a built-in canister of heavy-duty bearspray for use in hand-to-hand combat. Unfortunately for Troy, no military or security organizations have shown interest in mass producing the ballistics suits. That might have something to do with the over-the-top nature of the inventor himself. Watch the video at left to see what I mean.

#5 Terrifica

Born:c. 1975
Location: New York City
Reason for Fighting: To protect drunk girls from being taken advantage of by opportunistic men
Nemisis: Fantastico
Means of Transport: Red High-heeled boots
Status: Retired

Though she’s hung up the ruby red cape, Terrifica is remembered as a New York City superhero with a very practical goal. Keeping vulnerable girls safe from predatory guys.

Terrifica, later revealed to be a New York artist named Sarah, patrolled New York City bars and clubs where she would try to prevent women from making decisions they would regret by going home with guys who just wanted to get laid. Armed with, among other things, pepper spray, a cell phone, and Smarties candy (for energy), Terrifica said she would try to distract men, who were often intrigued by the sexy, masked girl in a red cape, to give women a chance to get away.

“I protect the single girl living in the big city,” Terrifica told ABC in 2002. “I do this because women are weak. They are easily manipulated, and they need to be protected from themselves and most certainly from men and their ill intentions toward them.”

Interestingly enough, Terrifica did have a nemesis. A player named Fantastico whose attempts to take home women were thwarted several times by Terrifica. Obviously he was not terribly impressed with Terrifica, who, to be honest, does seem to have some issues with guys.

“She seems to have it in for men,” he said. “I’m convinced she is loveless and would love to have the rest of the city as loveless and miserable as she is.”

#4 Master Legend

Born: June 27, 1966
Location: Orlando area
Team: Justice Force
Fighting Style: Way of the Diamond Spirit
Means of Transport: Battle Truck, Legend Cycle
Signature Weapon: Master Blaster personal cannon (modified potato gun)

Sort of the grandaddy of American Real Life Superheroes, Master Legend is based in the Orlando suburb of Winter Park, and has been active for the better part of the decade.

Master Legend received national recognition in December, 2008, when Rolling Stone ran a feature story and pictorial on the superhero clad in a silver and black uniform with a German World War II helmet. Though Legend is little more than a middle-aged man in a costume, he’s garnered the support of his community by patrolling the streets, fighting for causes he deems worthy, and working for charity.

His shining moment came in 2004, when he received a commendation from the sheriff’s office for helping to save people in the aftermath of Hurricane Charley.

Though many have called into doubt Master Legend’s bombastic stories, one police sergeant, speaking on condition of anonymity, confirmed to ROLLING STONE that Legend had helped bust real criminals.

From Rolling Stone:
Based on the neighborhood, [the sergeant] figured, Master Legend might be a good local contact. “And sure enough,” the Sergeant tells me, “I start getting calls from Master Legend with information. And it checks out. Master Legend has helped put away a few criminals.”

#3 Zetaman

Location:Portland, OR
Purpose: To protect and serve the community
True Identity: Illya King
Superhero Team: Formerly of The Alternates
Cost of Costume: $4,000

Zetaman is the epitome of the comic book nerd turned Real Life Superhero.

Zetaman, who draws and writes comic books in his spare time, patrols in a costume inspired by his favorite heroes. He carries a collapsible baton, a stun gun, an air horn, a cell phone, and perhaps most importantly, gloves and sandwiches.

While Zetaman patrols the seediest parts of Portland ready for anything, he told the Willamette Week that he’s never had to apprehend any criminals. More often than not, Zetaman spends his nights handing out gloves, sandwiches and other useful items to Portland’s less fortunate residents. And while this altruistic action is par for Zetaman’s course, he’s clashed with some other Real Life Superheroes who believe vigilante justice is their true calling.

“I guess it sounds kind of less heroic, but I don’t want to die,” he said. “I wish I had a million dollars, like Batman. But I’m just one guy out there. I’m not strong enough.”

Zetaman also helped organize the Alternates, a Portland-based group of Real Life Superheroes who banded together to raise money for the March for Babies, a fundraiser that grew from the March of Dimes to help ensure infant health. But unfortunately, Zetaman has recently split from the Alternates, stating on his MySpace blog that he can no longer “look past misdeeds on the behalf of friendship.”

But never fear. Zetaman is still out there doing good. His latest project is to raise $500 for the Race for the Cure breast cancer fundraising event in Portland. While the Alternates won’t be working together anymore, Zetaman has put together the Zeta-Corps, which is open to anyone who wants to help.

“I want to get as many Portlanders to join my team, the Zeta-Corps. My plan is to get involved with different charties and have the good citizen of Portland to join me,” he said on his blog.

#2 Angle-Grinder Man

Location:London
Fighting: Overzealous parking authorities
Secret Weapon: Angle Grinder
True Identity: Unknown

Not all superheroes work within the bounds of the law. Angle-Grinder Man specifically works against the law where he deems it is being enforced too strictly.

Wheel clamps are a common sight on London’s crowded streets. Parking spaces are a valuable commodity, and their protection has given rise to an entire industry of private businesses whose sole purpose is to go around placing wheel clamps on illegally parked cars. Enter Angle-Grinder Man.

If you were to find yourself one of the many hapless victims of London clampers, you could call Angle-Grinder Man to come by with a big, mean angle grinder and cut right through the clamp. Whether or not you agree with his purpose, you have to agree that’s one way to make a difference.

“I may not be able to single-handedly and totally cast off the repressive shackles of a corrupt government – but I can cut off your wheel-clamps for you,” he said in 2002.

Unfortunately Angle-Grinder Man hasn’t been active for a couple of years, but his anti-clamping message lives on in the common complaints of Londoners.

#1 Superbarrio

Born:Unknown, but likely in the late 1950s
Location: Mexico City
Reason for Fighting: To protect poor people’s right to housing
Nemisis: Greedy landlords and inept beureaucrats
Means of Transport: Barriomobile

Hidden beneath a red and gold luchadore mask is a Mexico City man who has gone to great lengths to keep poor tenants in their homes. Superbarrio is regarded in some circles with the same sort of awe children reserve for Batman or Spider-Man. And while he isn’t as fit as either of them, he is very effective.

In 1985, an 8.2 earthquake rocked Mexico City, destroying thousands of homes and taking more than 10,000 lives. In the wake of this crushing tragedy, the demand for homes rocketed, leaving many of Mexico City’s poverty-stricken denizens unable to find a place to live. That’s when Superbarrio Gomez (real name unknown), found his calling.

“One day when I was in my room, I was enveloped in a brilliant red and yellow light, and when it dissipated, I was dressed this way,” he explained in 1988. “Then a voice said to me, ‘You are Super Barrio, defender of tenants and scourge of greedy landlords.'”

Superbarrio ended up running for President of Mexico in 1988, and while he wasn’t ever a serious contender, he made his tenants’ and squatters’ rights platform a serious issue.

While Superbarrio is still a folk hero in Mexico City, where dolls and T-shirts with his image are common, he keeps a lower profile these days. Even though he isn’t as active, his spirit and cause lives on.

Originally pubished : http://www.virginmedia.com/movies/movieextras/top10s/real-life-superheroes.php

With DIY superhero Kick-Ass bursting into cinemas, we meet the real men and women who have dedicated their lives to helping others…

Squeegeeman

Who? A “mass do-gooder” who vows to rid New York of both crime and grime. His superhero weapon of choice? A squeegee.

Why? Claiming to have been born with “Super-squeegee abilities”, Squeegeeman not only fights crime, but also goes on hospital visits, plants trees and collects money for charity. He claims that when someone walks down a clean street in New York or makes it home without getting mugged, they have him to thank, which kind of steals credit away from the city street-cleaners and the NYPD.

Movie hero equivalent: WALL•E, the only movie character to equal Squeegeeman’s superhuman dedication to cleaning and tidying.

Entomo, the Insect Man of Napels

Who? This Italian hero claims a near-death experience connected him to “a spiritual plane of existence involving insects”.

Why? Entomo lists his superpowers as sharpened senses, agility and an insect-like psychic ability he calls ‘parallelogram’ – apparently this helps him to establish “a specific psychological/physical profile only based on tiny, almost insignificant details”. Entomo battles criminals as well as corrupt politicians, and he even has his own superhero catchphrase: “Hear my buzz, fear my bite: I inject justice”. Catchy.

Movie hero equivalent: Spider-Man, who also developed creepy-crawly superpowers of agility and a special ‘spidey sense’.

Terrifica

Who? A guardian fighting for sobriety, chastity and the way home for drunk, vulnerable females in need of protection from lusty men.

Why? Like a disapproving parent in a costume, Terrifica patrols bars and parties in New York late at night defending inebriated women from lecherous guys looking to take advantage while armed with pepper spray, a camera and Smarties (to keep her energy levels up). Curiously, she even has her own arch-nemesis, Fantastico, a ‘supervillain’ lothario who dresses in velvet and skulks around bars trying to pick up defenceless women.

Movie hero equivalent: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, who also rescued damsels in distress from preying monsters and predators.

Zetaman

Who? A self-confessed nerd who adopted a costume and name to be more like the superheroes in his favourite comics.

Why? While Zetaman tries to steer clear of actual crime-fighting (“I guess it sounds kind of less heroic, but I don’t want to die”), he arms himself with a collapsible baton, a stun gun, an air horn and a mobile phone just in case. The most important items in his arsenal, however, are blankets, gloves, socks and sandwiches which he hands out to the men and women who are forced to live on the streets of his home town Portland, Oregon.

Movie hero equivalent: Superman, who shares Zetaman’s humanitarian attitude and his chest-based insignia.

Angle-Grinder Man

Who? A costumed vigilante who fights the system by offering a free wheel-clamp removal service for frustrated motorists in the UK.

Why? Rebelling against what he considers to be oppressive measures such as congestion charges, CCTV and speed cameras, Angle-Grinder Man takes a stand against “arrogant” politicians by providing wheel-clamp aid to persecuted vehicle owners in Kent and London (at weekends). His website lists his mobile number for such emergencies, presumably because no one has access to a giant Angle-Grinder signal light to shine in the sky.

Movie hero equivalent: V from V For Vendetta, another British vigilante who fights against a corrupt government.

Master Legend

Who? A costumed crime-fighter who claims to have psychic abilities, as well as powers bestowed to him by a voodoo queen.

Why? The daddy of superheroes, Master Legend has been thwarting criminals for over a decade and the local sheriff in his hometown of Winter Park, Florida has even confirmed that the masked hero has helped with many arrests. With his own means of transport (the Legend Cycle) and armed with his Master Blaster personal cannon (a spud gun), this old defender shows no sign of hanging up his tights any time soon.

Movie hero equivalent: Professor Charles Xavier from X-Men who also has psychic powers (minus the silver body armour).

Superbarrio

Who? A Mexican hero who takes a realistic approach to fighting crime and corruption: by organising labour rallies and filing petitions.

Why? Donning a red-and-yellow costume, complete with wrestler’s mask, Superbarrio is a champion for the working class and homeless of Mexico City. His work protecting low-income neighbourhoods by leading protests and challenging court decisions has resulted in the hefty campaigner becoming a folk legend – he even had a giant-size statue erected in his honour and once met with Fidel Castro.

Movie hero equivalent: Nacho Libre, the tubby Mexican wrestler who also has a secret identity.

Dark Guardian

Who? Criminals of New York beware! This highly-trained martial artist is “dedicated to making the world a better place”.

Why? Despite going through some costume changes in the past, Dark Guardian is a committed superhero who claims to have helped the police in apprehending various drug dealers and tracking down an illegal gambling den. Unlike most of his other superhero colleagues, he does not keep his true identity secret – his real name is Chris Pollack. Dark Guardian sounds better though.

Movie hero equivalent: Batman, the Dark Knight, as another hero of the night fighting against injustice.

Citizen Prime

Who? A recently retired superhero who fought crime in $4000 body armour and helped to found the Worldwide Heroes Organization.

Why? A financial executive by day, Citizen Prime would patrol the streets clad in a helmet, breastplate, pads and codpiece and was also particularly involved in his local community, often visiting youth centres and schools. News of his retirement was met with much mourning among the real-life superhero community, although criminals in his area presumably rejoiced.

Movie hero equivalent: Robocop, who wore similar armour and shared his attitude towards promoting good citizenship.

Death’s Head Moth

Who? Strikes fear into criminals with sinister imagery and a scary name. Probably doesn’t do many school visits.

Why? Armed with ‘moth-a-rangs’ (specially made metal throwing ninja stars shaped like moths) and a dark, brooding attitude, Deaths Head Moth fights crime in Norfolk, Virginia and is a well-known name in the superhero community, often teaming up with other heroes and being an active member of the Great Lakes Heroes Guild.

Movie hero equivalent: Rorschach, the cynical anti-hero in Watchmen who has an attitude as fearsome as his fighting skills.

Tothian

Who? Dispensing with the costume and novelties, Tothian focuses on the most important part of being a superhero: fighting crime.

Why? Having served five years in the Marine Reserves, Tothian has the discipline, as well as the physical capabilities, to treat crime-fighting as a serious calling. Claiming that martial arts is only one aspect of the training required to be a superhero (he also lists law, criminology, forensics and first aid, among others), this patrolling defender uses his special expertise to prevent crime and ensure the safety of the residents in his hometown, New Jersey.

Movie hero equivalent: Steven Seagal in every one of his movies. He has the combat skills and mental attitude to take criminals down

Captain Prospect

Who? Founder of the Capital City Super Squad, a team of superheroes who help to protect and serve Washington DC.

Why? Along with his superhero colleagues Nice Ninja, Spark, Siren, Justice, DC Guardian and The Puzzler, Captain Prospect helps the people of Washington DC by undertaking safety patrols, contributing to community events and organising fundraisers, as well as feeding the homeless. This patriotic do-gooder even chose the colours and design of his costume to reflect the DC flag.

Movie hero equivalent: Captain America, the leader of The Avengers, who will be starring in his own movie due out in 2011.

Mr. Xtreme

Who? Part of the Xtreme Justice League, a team of costumed superheroes who tackle violent crime on the streets of San Diego.

Why? Using a camouflage mask with bug-shaped mesh eye-holes to keep his identity secret, Mr Xtreme patrols the streets late at night armed with a stun-gun, pepper spray and handcuffs in order to apprehend criminals as well as promote a positive message to youngsters and raise public awareness about local crime. By day, however, Mr Xtreme is merely a mild-mannered security guard. Presumably, he takes the mask off then.

Movie hero equivalent: David Dunn (Bruce Willis) from Unbreakable, a security guard who discovers he has superhero-like abilities.

Shadow Hare

Who? A caped crusader who fights crime on the streets of Cincinatti with the ominous symbol of a demonic rabbit on his chest.

Why? Declaring to “see the shadows of shadows”, this costumed hero claims to have stopped “many evil doers, such as drug dealers, muggers, rapists and crazy hobos with pipes”. Despite being a trained martial artist who carries mace, a taser and handcuffs, Shadow Hare actually dislocated his shoulder while assisting a woman who was being robbed, just to prove that you shouldn’t be trying this at home. Luckily he can speed away on his Segway scooter if the fight gets too much for him.

Movie hero equivalent: Frank, the demonic rabbit from Donnie Darko who also liked to stick to the shadows.

Polar Man

Who? Hardly a crime-fighter, this local hero helps his community by shovelling snow off the steps for day-care centres and the elderly.

Why? Hailing from Nunavut, a particularly icy region of North Canada, Polarman is the friendly neighbourhood superhero who, as well as clearing snow for those in need, helps to keep playgrounds in order for the local kids and deters vandals. He is said to model himself on a man in Inuit legend who provided food and clothing to the poor while riding a polar bear.

Movie hero equivalent: Iceman, the sub-zero superhero from the X-Men who doesn’t, unfortunately, ride on a polar bear.

Originally posted: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/culturepicturegalleries/7973066/The-Real-Life-Super-Hero-Project-by-Peter-Tangen.html

These costumed heroes may look like they have jumped out of a comic book or Hollywood blockbuster, but they are all ordinary people who don’t have one special ability between them – just a super human need to help fix our broken society. Captured by American photographer Peter Tangen, these normal, but anonymous, people make up his ambitious Real Life Super Hero Project. The photos give a revealing insight into a small but growing niche in unusual altruistic behaviour

“I work as a freelance photographer in the film marketing sector and as such I have done photo shoots for films such as Spider-Man and the first of the Batman series starring Christian Bale,” said LA-based photographer Peter, aged 50.”I became interested in the growing phenomenon of normal everyday people adopting superhero personas. However, as I researched more I was struck by the irreverent and almost insulting tone of some of the reporting into these altruistic people, who devote their time and effort into helping others. It isn’t about their costumes or their own personal mythology or mission, it is about the fact that they help people less well off than themselves

Standing just 5ft 6in tall the Crimson Fist is Atlanta’s night guardian. On the night of his inaugural patrol, he happened upon two men attacking another in a dark alley. Without giving a second thought to the situation, he went to intervene. The two men stopped, and apparently freaked out at the sudden appearance of this white-and-red clad, mask-wearing man. Amusingly, the man The Crimson Fist rescued ran away too

“I wanted to produce a full blown movie poster series about the super heroes across North America to highlight the real reasons that these people do what they do,” explained Peter

Contacting Thanatos, a long-standing and respected member of the super hero community, Peter travelled to Vancouver to conduct his first photo shoot. “Getting Thanatos onboard in the late summer of 2009 was an important first step, because the community is known for being guarded after some of the negative publicity they have received,” said Peter. “After I met such a stalwart, other heroes came on board and relatively quickly we had planned and organised a massive shoot in LA at the end of September for 19 other superheroes”

Thanatos, also known as the The Dark Avenger, patrols the streets of Vancouver, Canada providing help to the needy and homeless

A poster featuring Thanatos, who takes his name from the ancient Greek for the personification of death itself

In a real-life superhero world filled with men, Nyx works her mission in and around New York City to help the homeless and those in need of rescue from drugs

Poster featuring Nyx, who began her involvement in the superhero world at the age of 16

Citizen Prime is one of the most respected members of the superhero community. Recently retired, he is still sought out by other superheroes keen to hear his thoughts on their mission and how to develop their mythology

A poster featuring Citizen Prime, who wears a suit of armour designed by a medieval jousting club in California

Dressed as a snazzy New Yorker, Life’s superhero mission is to provide help to the homeless, especially in the freezing cold New York winters. Setting out during the week dressed in mask, waistcoat and jacket, Life has a backpack brimming with toothbrushes, soaps, food and candy bars

As the co-founder of New York’s Superheroes Anonymous, Life wants to help those who need it

KnightVigil: Patroling the Tampa Bay area of Florida, KnightVigil is the medieval-themed guardian of America’s sunshine state

With two batons to protect himself, KnightVigil looks to help the homeless and to catch perpetrators on the run

Helping out in the city of Portland, Oregon, Zetaman is an internet-savvy superhero. He launched ‘The Real Adventures of Zetaman’ online; this was the first broadcast length reality series of superheroes available on the web

Poster featuring Zetaman, so called because he “wanted a name that would look cool in bold italics”. “I try to help the hungry homeless in Portland, Oregon, ” said Zetaman, who is happy to give his real name of Illya King and his real age, 31. “I haven’t ever deterred any crimes on the street, but I am trained in the martial art of Akido”

Covered in a uniform that displays the stars of the original 13 states of America, DC Guardian’s mission is to roam the streets of Washington DC with copies of the nation’s constitution, Bill of Rights and Declaration of Independence. Explaining to passers-by the importance of their nation’s democracy, DC’s Guardian never reveals his face. He says the reason behind this is to allow black, white, Asian or Hispanic people to see themselves behind the mask

Fighting against what he feels is the ‘Bystander Effect’ in society, Super Hero operates in Clearwater, Florida

An ex-professional wrestler, Super Hero is the co-founder of Team Justice Inc, the first non-profit organisation for Real Life Superheroes in the United States

Geist patrols the streets of Minneapolis, correcting gangland graffiti

Describing himself as wearing ‘green Space-Cowboy chic’, superhero Geist patrols the streets of Rochester, Minnesota deterring petty crime, graffiti artists and helping the hungry and homeless. He carries a slingshot and electrified baton, which are legal in Minnesota, but Geist has never had to use them in self defence