COLUMN: Support your local Superhero
One of the worst things about growing up is that I can no longer sleep in a Batman costume.
What is it that happens to people when they turn 11 (I guess for most people it’s around that time, for me it was when I first got a roommate) that makes them say “From now on I’m only going to sleep in plaid flannel, gym shorts or my underwear and that’s it.”?
I still remember when I was 5- years-old, for Christmas my cousins and I all got super hero pajamas. I was Robin.
Note the wording there, I wasn’t dressed like Robin, I was Robin.
There was something about jumping from couch to couch and saying POW and BOFFO every time I threw a punch that wouldn’t come within a foot of the “bad guy” that infected my blood.
I have wanted a superhero, and nothing else, ever since.
In fact, I’m doing this whole college thing just to put me in an environment where science could go awry and give me powers. Some days when I have nothing to do, I sit in Chemistry Building hoping for a freak chemical explosion.
But alas, I’m a junior now, and will probably be graduating in the next five years. My superhero prime is wasting away. I can’t afford to be splashing chemicals in my face or provoking spiders. I need powers now!
That’s why I am taking matters into my own hands. I would like to announce a new, on-campus program called MOSI-FLASH (Making Ordinary Steve Into a Freaking Legendary Awesome SuperHero).
The beauty of this program, beyond its catchy acronym, is that it is something that can bring this college together again – uniting behind the common goal of turning me in to crime fighting machine.
I will dispense the assignments now.
Science department: I need you, through a combination of chemicals, genetic manipulation and radiation to work out a way to alter my cellular structure into something beyond human. I don’t care what the powers are, have me shoot Tabasco sauce out of my elbows for all I care just get me some super powers.
Engineers: This should be right up your alley. I need a supersuit. Something that will let me fly but still provides amble armor. I’m a small guy, so nothing too big.
Art Department: Don’t let the engineers make me an ugly supersuit.
English majors: I’m going to need a healthy supply of dramatic monologues and clever one-liners, but I don’t want to have to write them myself. If you guys would work some of those out for me, that would be great.
President Hall: Allocate enough money to turning either a room in the HPER or the squash court at the Nelson Fieldhouse into a danger room like the X-men have. Also destroy all records of any “mild-mannered (but very handsome) Steve Shinney” ever attending this school.
Don’t feel left out if I haven’t listed your department or major. Because no true superhero works entirely alone – and I would feel better if 50 percent of the death rays were pointed at somebody else – I will be holding side-kick tryouts.
The candidates will be judged on three categories: Super skills, ability to follow orders and how good they look in spandex. That last category will count double for any females who may apply.
In conclusion I encourage every one who’s interested to join MOSI-FLASH. It combines the working for the greater good of a service organization and the in-field experience of a professional society. Besides, you little resume-padders out there, what could possibly be more impressive than “2004-2005: built superhero, saved the world”?
Finally, on another note, for any one offended by being referred to in my geeky review of the Howl, I’m sorry. Mr. Danza, please don’t put me in a headlock. For those of you who weren’t upset, thanks for you support.
Geek on.
Steve Shinney is a columnist
for the Utah Statesman.
Comments can be sent to him at steveshinney@cc.usu.edu