For more than four decades, Spider-Man has vanquished foe after foe, each with formidable powers and malevolent intent. But now he’s facing not another super villain, but perhaps the biggest threat of his life. The government is requiring superheroes to register and reveal their identities. Spidey’s the first to acquiesce, pulling off his famous mask at a Washington press conference. Captain America, meanwhile, is going underground to lead the resistance movement.
Let’s not mince words here. This is an outrage, an unconscionable invasion of privacy. Shouldn’t there be a shield law for comic-book superheroes to prevent this sort of thing?
Too late for Spidey, apparently. (Veteran comic-book readers realize that a certain amount of skepticism is warranted here; remember, for instance, when Superman died in the comics a while back but didn’t stay dead?)
For the moment, at least, the web-slinger’s been unmasked, exposed to the world as Peter Parker. It’s every superhero’s worst fear. Why? Well, there’s the problem of how your comic-book enemies can strike at your less-than-invulnerable loved ones and all that.
But we think there’s more to it. If everyone knows who you are, there’s no down time. Who wants to be a superhero all day, every day? Think about the expectations. Wherever you went, there’d be some heroic deed that needed to be performed, some criminal that needed to be nabbed, some nefarious scheme that needed to be stopped in the nick of time. Exhausting!
It must be fun for your average superhero to assume the mask of normality, to become, say, a mild-mannered reporter who can grab a bite to eat and take in a movie without having to save the world all the time.
Secret identities are not just for superheroes. We all need alter egos, even if they’re not really all that secret. No, most of us don’t step into a phone booth and emerge in cape and tights, or slide down a pole into the Batcave. Maybe you’re a lawyer by day who plays bass in a heavy metal band on the weekend. Or an electrician who slides into a tux on weekends and dazzles on the ballroom floor. An accountant who moonlights as a girls softball coach.
Do you find yourself slipping into a Klingon uniform just for fun? Or picking up a musket with the other weekend warriors in a Civil War re-enactment? Or perhaps you’ve got an entirely different secret identity: The anonymous donor who gives generously to charity but doesn’t want to be identified.
It’s fun to wonder who’s behind the mask.
So back off, feds. We’re standing with the superheroes who resist on this one.
