Signing Off

Well, good traveler, the time swiftly approaches when you will become vastly superior to your current self. To facilitate this change, I must finish my preparations. I hope you learned something from this blog - a window into the mind of an artist, a genius, a Superhero. I don't know if I'll ever post again, but I wouldn't hold my breath.
I've heard it's best to close with a quote, so here is one from the greatest bard the world has seen:

Jimmy shoes busted both his legs, trying to learn to fly
From a second story window, he just jumped and closed his eyes
His momma said he was crazy - he said momma "I've got to try"
Don't you know that all my heroes died
And I guess I'd rather die than fade away
-Bon Jovi

Stay Super.

What were we talking about?

I know you.
You've been thinking of or at least toyed with the idea of being a totally badass Superhero like Yours Truly. You feel a powerful arousal (which you claim is non-sexual) when you see a website advertising night vision, grappling hooks, miniaturized mechanical odds and ends, and all manner of other things which you think will prepare you for the various situations you will run into "on the street."
Lemme tell you somethin', champ - gadgets don't fight crime for you. They don't make you awesome. And riddle me this - how are you going to lug around all those specialized tools for the myriad different situations you'll encounter?
Did you ever notice that James Bond gets new gadgets every movie, but doesn't retain the stuff from the previous films? It's hard to look sexy when you're carrying 300 pounds of miniature flame throwers and diamond-tipped saws.
I'm not saying you go out there with just a pair of jeans and a t-shirt - you need certain tools. But you need just a handful of (mostly) primitive stuff. Logistics prevent you from carrying everything you "need." What are these basic tools, you ask? Come to class and find out!

Stay Super.

Application Termination

That's it, kids!
The application process is now over. For those that didn't make it on time, what the crap?
I'll be taking down the sidebar link and deleting the online application form after I'm done posting this. For accepted students, you will be receiving your acceptance packet with login and registration instructions in the mail soon (well, soonish).
Remind me to rap with you about gadgets later.

Stay Super.

Post Script

Oh, and a couple of other things:

• The Military Channel has a new show, which is quite possibly the closest thing to perfect I've ever seen on TV. It's called Special Ops Mission, and if you don't make a serious effort to watch it, than you'll have earned yourself a punch in the face.
• JT Awesomefellow's School of Superhero Arts is accepting applications until 11:59 PM tomorrow (Wednesday). Just to set aside any apprehensions, payment gets worked out later - there is no money due at the time of application.

Stay Super.

Go Forward, Move Ahead

I'm back from Miami, and I bring revelations. Come get philosophical with me.
One of the days I was at the beach, a storm or something the night before had caused the waves to go crazy. Huge, constant waves attacked far beyond their usual haunts and quickly retreated several yards back, revealing the large slope of sand beneath. Half the beach was closed off due to these dangerous tides.
When I first got there, no one dared enter the madness further than what would wet their ankles. But gradually, the more adventurous of us dared out into the angry sea, our bodies battered by its salty shoulders.
Later, thinking back on it, I got to thinking about survival and the testing of "limits." It was here that I had a revelation, dear reader - limits are only a perception, and a luxury you cannot afford yourself if you wish to survive. But here was the real revelation - the mental and physical act of pushing through one's "limits" in a survival situation is identical to that of pushing through one's "limits" in a session of really great intercoursing.
Let me explain.
We've all been in this situation, whether we'd like to admit it or not - you're up in there, you're working your wonder show, and you feel as though the curtain is about to close after just a few minutes (and by "curtain," I mean "penis," and by "close," I mean "explode"). But you, remembering who the hell you are, gather your will, reject defeat, push forward, balance on the edge of oblivion, and go on to intercourse for another hour or so after a terrible moment's effort and uncertainty.
Being caught in a seemingly unsurvivable situation requires just such an effort. You may think that there's no way you can lift that thing to get out, that you can't hold your breath any longer, that the pain is too great to keep moving, that there are too many of them and only one of you - and as soon as such a thought enters your mind, you must banish it to the furthest regions of nothingness, remember the strength of who you are and what your name is (if you are the embodiment of the ability to accomplish impossible tasks and call upon seemingly limitless reserves - otherwise, just think positive thoughts, I guess), gather your will, reject defeat, push forward, balance on the edge of oblivion, and come out alive.

Stay Super.

Like Willie said...

Hey, Party People.
I'm currently on my way to Miami for a week on Superhero business. I'll be away from my computing box (see also, intercoursing) most, if not all, of the time.

Stay Super.

The World Needs a Hero

In this thing called life, it's good to have heroes. Not just the Super kind, such as myself, but personal heroes - those we can look up to, emulate, and think of in our times of weakness as a source of strength. I have tried out various personal heroes throughout my life - He-Man, Splinter, Chuck Norris, Clint Eastwood, M.K. Gandhi, Bruce Lee, Eastwood a few more times - but none quite met the measure of what I needed. When I examined my life and everyone I had heard of throughout it, there was only one person - fictional or non - worthy of my emulation.
Me.
I am my own personal hero, and a damn fine one at that. At my weak moments (few though they are, especially these days), I look up to myself, think of the accomplishments and trials that JT Awesomefellow has faced in the past, and I think, "Man - that's somebody I want to be - a man of seemingly unlimited strength, endurance, fortitude, character, and charm."
Being your own personal hero keeps you on track, because of all people betwixt heaven and earth, you certainly don't want to let yourself down. And, if you are sufficiently amazing, then you will always set a high bar for yourself to live up to.
In the meantime, feel free to put me on your personal hero pedestal. I won't let you down.

It has come to my attention that some of my future students need more time for the application process. As such, I am extending the deadline by one week, you lucky Do-Gooders.

Stay Super.

Out on Highway 61

There is a trend coming out of Hollywood that I've noticed.
These days, it's fashionable to talk about how killing leaves soldiers emotionally scarred and killing a man is such an awful thing. Several movies from Clint Eastwood, badass extraordinaire, for example, exhibit this behavior.
"But JT!," you exclaim, "Surely you are not about to contradict Clint Eastwood, the Lord of Men, the Banner of the Good and Light, the Man Who Played Dirty Harry?!"
I assure you, dear reader, that I will not, nor will I ever.
However, some people get the idea watching these movies, I'm sure, that all killing is some awful thing.
This is wrong.
Killing in war messes up a lot of people (in more ways than one). The problem with killing somebody in a war is that they're not necessarily an evil, rotten, shit person - they're just like you, only on the other side. They're just someone who happened to be born in a certain time and place that called for them to pick up a gun and join their nation in an armed conflict against some other nation, just like you. Killing in war is like looking into the mirror and pulling the trigger at what you see.

But this is not the only kind of killing there is, nor does this describe the only sort of opponent.
Take your average junkie or crackhead. This is a person that will break into a car for pocket change or pawn their relative's goods while they're at the hospital getting treated for a life-threatening disease. These are the people that look for your friends and family as they walk the street at night, knowing they don't know any better, and exchanging violence for hard-earned goods. And for what? Not for an ideal or to protect their country or because they were forced to - because they need a hit.
Take your average mob tough - Italian, Irish, Hispanic, doesn't matter. This is a person who could be making an honest living, but instead decided they'd rather become filthy rich by pretending to be a friend to their community but bleeding it instead.
Take your average rapist. And destroy them completely, utterly, and slowly.
Your average drug dealer.
Gang member.

The list of scum goes on and on, but they are all, ultimately, better off not being around. This isn't some little girl in another country made to carry a grenade into your camp - these are people who have made choices that involve harming good people for their own selfish benefit. Do people change? Sure - maybe 1 in 10,000 becomes a genuine good guy. Are those odds you want to play? And what happens in the meantime? For every one of these bad guys, many, many good people must be wronged. A druggie doesn't need cash for just one hit, they need a stream of income for a stream of hits. If you only stop the actions of one repeat offender - just one - you don't just prevent one crime, you prevent probably years or even decades of violence, thefts, killings, or worse.
"Is it wrong to take a life?" That's a poorly framed question. It ignores the nuances of reality. How about, "If you have the ability to save a multitude of the good by destroying a handful of corrupt individuals, is it conscionable to do otherwise?"
I've seen hard questions before. That isn't one of them.

Tomorrow's the last day to apply!

Stay Super.

Putting it all together

Things have really come together with the school. I'll probably be posting a lot less in the next few weeks up until school starts, and then maybe not at all after it does. We'll see.
Once accepted, you can register for classes using the information provided in your acceptance packet. Classes do not run on a traditional schedule - we fit a lot of classes into one year, so they are all very short, very intense courses that last much less than a usual semester. Also, don't worry about one class conflicting with another - there is no overlap (there can't be, since I'm the only professor).
All of the courses I teach are important, so most of them are required, but there are some electives to choose from to suit and shape your particular style. You'll find more information in your packet.
One last thing - during class, everyone is required to wear a mask. These will be provided for you - you may not bring your own mask (until you have taken our class in which you make your own).

Stay Super.

Walking the Gauntlet

A good way to get an idea of what you're going to be working with as a Superhero is to ignore some of your mother's perfectly sound advice.
Go for a walk late at night. In a bad neighborhood. And talk to strangers.
You should have learned a little about the "mind" of criminals before you do this, the anatomy of how a crime happens, and be confident in self-defense and the use of that knife you'll be carrying. These are just precautionary measures, though, to help you make it through unscathed and be confident enough and smart enough to get the most out of the experience.
It's important to see real bad guys in their natural habitat, so you know it's not all just fiction.

• The older guy smoking crack who asks if you've ever been with a man and says he really likes your hair, then insists he knows a shortcut to where you're going, even though you were walking in a straight line perpendicular to where he'd like you to go (This is the first time I knew why my Kindergarten teachers told me shortcuts were dangerous).
• The dirty, unattractive prostitute who asks you a few throw-away questions before coming right out and asking "So you wanna have sex?", and then the burly pimp who approaches you after you decline to ask if "You cool?".
• The group of guys who shake your hand and ask if you want some drug or other (why do drug dealers and the like so often mumble? What kind of salesmanship is that?). They're friendly enough, until a van pulls up housing a wiry man with intense, murderous eyes that stare at them from the passenger side.

You'll be surprised what you can come across in just one night.

Stay Super.

Herowood, here I come

Heard something groovy yesterday - seems a friend of a friend is in the movies business and interested in doing a documentary on the school. Nothing official or solid yet, but I can't see how anyone wouldn't want to make a movie about what I'm doing.
Man, I love New York.

Just a few days left to get in your application! There's still a few more slots open, so get'em while there're there!

Stay Super.

It's not me, it's you

Why do so many girls/women expect a one- or two-time (though twice is dangerous territory) wham session to turn into a "relationship"? This is one of the many perils of being a Superhero - becoming tied down by females.
As a saver of lives and livelihoods, you will be doing a lot of intercoursing - it's one of the more notable perks of the profession. Every so often, you may come across a specimen of femality that is especially ripe and tasty and you think, "Hey - that was pretty good - maybe I should keep her around a little while."
This is a common newbie mistake.
Superheroes live on the edge and go where and when they are needed. They can't be dragged down by someone who makes nonsensical complaints about you not being around, about your "insensitivity" (which is a bad thing to some people? I guess?), about your refusal to take off the mask, etc. Also, they soak up your time, these females. They latch on like a barnacle, cutting in to your training, patrolling, and wham time with new females.
Having a "relationship" as a Superhero (or as most anyone, I imagine) is like having a knife stuck in you - it slows you down, it's a real pain to try to do anything you like when it's there, and it threatens to bleed you dry if you want to get rid of it.

Stay Super.
And single.

The Ticking Clock

Only two more weeks before the application deadline!

Stay Super.

Ok - quick amendment to something i said earlier.
police radios can be sueful for finding out if there are police coming to where you are or are near you. having a scanner in your ear could give you a heads up to know if you're about to be in, say, a nasty crossfire between some gangbangers and the boys in blue.
also - diy gsw fixer upper? not fun.

Stay Super.