If you’re unfamiliar with Heroes, this summary will save you ten hours: Around the world there are people who, due to genetic mutations, have special powers. There’s a mind-reader, a self-healer, someone who can fly, someone who can paint the future, a time-space bender, a kid who can interact with electronics, and so on. Each person is at first ashamed by their difference, grapples with what’s wrong with them, learns to accept that they’re unique, overcomes the shame, and begins the search for their place in the new future they’ve accepted. So Heroes is basically an allegory, in televised comic-book form, about homosexuality in the 21st century. (Isn’t it obvious?)
These ten hours of concentrated TV viewing have put me into a mental state where I finally feel empowered to out myself to the world.
World. It’s me. Brent. I, too, have heroic super powers, and I’m not afraid to admit it. It’s who I am.
God, it feels good to finally say that!
- I hope I won’t feel sorry about this when I’ve recovered from my illness. I hope this isn’t like the time 20 years ago when I was totally out of my head sick and watched a fictionalized TV show about terrorists blowing up a major US city with a nuclear bomb and was completely convinced it was real (despite the repeated commercial interruptions and ending credits followed by the 11 O’clock news with no mention of the US having just lost a major city). I was so very panicky. And feverish.
- I sink in water. Even when I’ve gained a lot of weight, my blubber is somehow dense.
- I can hold my breath a long time.
- I have no fear of sickeningly gross gooey grossness.
I’ve only had to use this find-things-underwater superpower twice in my lifetime, so far. But I’m ready. When the cheerleader needs me, I’m ready. When the squirrel needs me, I’m ready for that, too.
- A special message for one reader out there. I’m talking to you, Sylar. Should you even think about coming by to slice off the top of my head, you should know that I never wash my hair. Never. So just back off, pal!