Super Anti-Hero Pajamas

And whatever harm the wicked may do, the harm the good do is the most harmful harm.


Recently I coined a new Jungian archetype, the Super Anti-Hero. This started in a discussion where someone told me he wished to be a Super Hero. I said that he was a Super Hero, for a human would know that he couldn’t be anything but human and therefore it was nothing to regret.

We continued to discuss heroes, a major fascination and resentment I hold. This lead to the Super Anti-Hero. Of course, I am perfectly aware that I am no Super Hero, not even a Super Anti-Hero, but the term has given me power where I had none. It has offered me the power to speak, even when I am often viewed as the less capable, damaged and troubled version, almost begging for a hero to step in. I do not want that hero. It’s time to acknowledge that a hero cannot exist without a victim or a bad guy. I have been those roles too often and have been paid in return.

While thrown into this new world of writing where I am far from the damaged pet, I have often missed my smallness. I even joked about missing pajamas (hospital or detox issued). Thus came the ‘Super Anti-Hero invisible pajamas’. I claim to be wearing them in nerve-wracking situations. According to Slavoj Zizek, these things work even if you don’t believe. He’s right.

Slavoj Zizek has become my latest obsession, and I’m particularly fond of his distaste of wisdom. “Wisdom is disgusting!” he claims. I have heard Ben and Jock say various things that become gospel only because of the speaker. I guarantee you that if I said that men should sit to pee, or that compromise is a bad thing, no one would think anything of it. We need to start challenging these ideas. In this case, the wise person is the hero. To be human is to acknowledge that I have no way of knowing how anyone should pee. To be a Super Anti-Hero is to question those who claim they do hold this wisdom.