For every list-based article that I've published here, there have been tons of article ideas that never quite got off the ground due to lack of material. I'll read a captivating story about someone who successfully installed a clock into his top hat, and I'll immediately start writing an article titled "The 10 Greatest Hat and Time Collaborations," only to realize, to my colossal disappointment, that there are only, like, two relevant examples, (the second one being that time Morris Day put on a hat). I've had to abandon a ton of neat little bits and pieces, strictly because no one would want to read a list with just one or two entries. It is, to put it lightly, nut-blendingly frustrating. You might think I'm overreacting, but I guarantee you that every single writer on this site or, for that matter, anyone who deals almost exclusively with lists, is nodding violently, perhaps muttering "Yes, yes, fuck yes."
So, instead of a) making a bunch of one- or two-itemed lists or b)abandoning the ideas altogether, I've decided to just throw them into one stupid article that, (due to its total lack of focus and consistency) not one person will fully enjoy. Call it Early Spring Cleaning, or poorly-conceived, or just general laziness. Whatever. I call it a half-formed excuse to talk about Super President.
Super President was the short-lived, 1960s Saturday morning cartoon show about a president who receives superpowers after getting caught up in a cosmic storm. (Sure!) By day, he is James Norcross, President of the United States and, by night, he is Super President, the shape-shifting, crime-fighting superhero with the ability to change his molecular structure to turn into "steel, granite or whatever the need requires," as the opening theme boasts. (You really need to click that link and watch the video.)
Also, this one time, he turned into "ozone" to fight "laser beams." That happened because, in the sixties, no one was paying attention to anything.
We never actually see Norcross as president doing anything. He hangs around the oval office and chats with his closest advisor/sidekick/gay manservant?, but mostly he dresses up in Canadian Flag colors and fights monsters. Would he be a good president today? Well, with a good majority of the world kind of hating us a teensy bit right now, we need a president with the ability to mend fences and solve problems, (with the ability to punch shrieking fish monsters at a distant second). Super President's skills, (super strength, changing shape, avoiding a giant immobile robot's anti-gravity rays), are indeed admirable, but they're useless in today's political climate. We need a thinking president. If we learned anything from Warren G. Harding's presidency (1921-1923), it should be that the ability to change your molecular structure to granite for the purposes of fighting a giant fire-beast in outer space does not go hand-in-hand with being a qualified leader of the greatest country on earth.
Further, America currently uses 20 million barrels of oil a day, most of which probably goes to fuel the shockingly powerful mini-jets attached to Super President's belt that allow him to fly.
Why It's Shitty
It's honestly one of the most poorly-written shows I've ever seen, even by crappy superhero cartoon standards. And I'm not cynical guy. Not only do I believe that it's possible to gain spider powers after getting bitten by a radioactive spider, I actively pursue this dream by regularly hanging around nuclear testing facilities covered in spiders. I desperately want superheroes to be real and am prepared to buy whatever garbage backstory anyone wants to come up with, but "He was caught up in a friggin' storm or whatever" just doesn't cut it for me.
And, maybe I'm nitpicking, but I think it's important that we have a president who's at least slightly creative. If you're the president, but you want to keep your identity a secret, is naming yourself "Super President" really the best way to go? Really? Aren't you kind of asking to be discovered? If Norcross had his way, the streets would be protected by BillionaireMan, The Amazing Nerdy College Student and the Caped-Clark-Kent. Also, Norcross' Energy Plan, ("Put it all in my tiny belt-rockets!"), is, at best, shaky.
Why It's Actually Brilliant
Norcross is the President and, while he keeps America safe from monsters of various sizes, he does so at the expense of the trust of the American people. Every night, when he puts his little costume on, Norcross is betraying the trust of those who elected him, and he doesn't even pretend to give a shit about it. He fights crime in a way that America, on principle, does not condone. Norcross/Super President is concerned first and foremost with keeping his nation stable. Morality, Honesty and Principle are all afterthoughts; America's ends justify Super President's means. James Norcross has found a way to be both loved and feared. He is kind to his subjects, yet merciless under his mask. In this way, Norcross is the perfect manifestation of the ideal leader as described in Machiavelli's The Prince. After all, it was Machiavelli who said "there are two means of fighting: one according to the laws, the other with force; the first way is proper to man, the second to beasts; but because the first, in many cases, is not sufficient, it becomes necessary to have recourse to the second," and no one can deny that Super President is willing and able to resort to laws of the beasts when the laws proper to man simply won't cut it.
Further, was it not Machiavelli who also said that "a beast with easy access to a belt with tiny rockets will ultimately defeat all beasts that rise up against it and should, when a situation calls for it, turn into ozone"? I'm almost positive it was.
Now, I know you probably think that we already did this list here at Cracked which, given our obsession with Batman, isn't an unreasonable conclusion to jump to. But I'll have you know, we did a Lame Villains Article, (that was very Batman Villain-heavy), and we did a Real-Life Villains Article, but not once have we done an article depicting (real-life) people who are attempting to destroy the (fictional) Batman. Until, you know...right now.
The Mayor of Batman
This was a story that was so wonderful and retarded that I can't honestly believe the internet only wasted, like, a day making fun of it. A while back, Hseyin Kalkan, the mayor of a town called Batman, in Turkey, (popular for its oil and its absurd amount of female, honor-related suicides that occur each year), actually attempted to sue Christopher Nolan, the director of The Dark Knight on the grounds that he was, I guess, trying to capitalize on the popularity of the town. Like, all of the billions of people who saw The Dark Knight only did so because they thought they were seeing a riveting documentary about an oil-producing province in Dipshit, Turkey. I mean, that's why I went to go see Dark Knight. I heard it was about Batman so I bought a ticket, because I'm curious about their high levels of both unemployment and female-suicide, and I didn't check out any of the trailers or articles about the movie, because I'm homeless and retarded. You can imagine the questions running through my mind as I watched this strange, fictional account of costumed vigilantes:
"Why is there such little mention of oil?"
"Why aren't they talking about the River Batman? It's central to the province's economy, which is, by the way, plummeting. "
"Hey, a woman on the screen. That's odd. Why isn't she taking her own life in accordance with her complex and antiquated moral code?"
"How did the Joker manage to sneak aboard two enormous, important ships and plant bombs on them without being noticed? And a hospital? And a guy's stomach? Any time I have a question, something explodes. Why?"
There were other questions, but I won't bore you. They were mostly about oil.
My favorite quote from the whole ordeal comes from the Mayor himself who says "There is only one Batman in the world." That is a sentence that an elected official actually said, presumably with a straight face. Which, of course, brings me to:
People Who Would Probably Be Pissed Off by That Statement
-The People Who Made The Highlander (I'm assuming they own the copyright for 'Things for Which There Can Be Only One.)
This little Shit
Alec Grevin is a 9-year-old boy who recently published a book with HarperCollins. The book is a guide on how to talk to girls and is titled "How to Talk to Girls," because 9-year-olds aren't creative or interesting. Nine years old. Horseshit. You know, it may even be filled with some useful advice, but that's not really a surprise- of course he's an expert on talking to girls; boobs haven't even entered the equation yet. Give it a few years, Little Archie, (or whatever), and you'll find that, no matter how many books he reads, a 13-year-old boy is absolutely powerless when he first encounters boobs in the wild.
And I don't mean to pick on a 9-year-old kid, I'm sure he's wonderful and his book is a masterpiece. I've just been trying to sell my own guide to women, (Holla Atta Bitch: The Gentleman's Guide to Snaggin' Skanky Blonde Hoodrats), for years and the publishers, shockingly enough, haven't been too receptive. The book functions as a comprehensive guide to some of those tricky issues, like when to meet her parents, ("Never"), what kind of nickname you should give her, ("None. She is a skanky blonde hoodrat. Don't get attached."), and how to do the right thing if she gets pregnant, ("Fake a seizure, leave town after she takes you to the hospital.") It also includes some of the best pick up lines ever put to page, including:
- "Baby, are your legs tired? Because I slipped a muscle-relaxant in your drink while you were on the toilet."
- "Lady, you must be Jamaican, because Jamaican me boner."
- "Excuse me, Ma'am, but why don't you make like the economy and get fucked by me." [Note: Only works if it's well-established that your nickname is 'The Government,' or something similar.]
- "If you can guess what number I'm thinking of, I'll let you have sex with me in the back of a Nissan Sentra." [Note: No matter what she says, pretend it's the number you were thinking of. And if she did guess the number you were thinking of, she might be a witch. Drown her post coital.]
- "Hey, whats goin on with that vag of yours? Anything Id be interested in?"
- "Ma'am, I'd like to show you an amazing device that'll take you anywhere in the world." [Note: Only works if she's extremely foreign, extremely young or otherwise suffers from a mental condition that makes her unfamiliar with the concept of an automobile and, specifically, a Nissan Sentra.]
This book is ready, HarperCollins, and you look like a fool for not picking it up.
["Irrational Fears" is actually one of the most fascinating topics in the world, to me. I don't know why, but I've always been really obsessed with it and, if you email your irrational fears to dan(at)cracked.com, I can guarantee you that it would make my day.]***
My Toilet Exploding
I check my toilet, on average, four times every hour, (in addition to my regular schedule of standard toilet visits). I just pop my head into the bathroom for a second to make sure my toilet isn't up to anything funny. I can't help myself. And I don't do it with other appliances or pieces of furniture. I only look at my bathtub when absolutely necessary, and I can sometimes go weeks without seeing or even speaking to my toaster. But this fucking toilet has my number. I believe, for no coherent reason, that my toilet will explode, or more accurately, that all of the sewage that currently hides beneath Los Angeles will get tired of being ignored and will decide to burst triumphantly out of my toilet. Sewage would flow majestically, as if my toilet was some sort of nightmare shit fountain that hates me.
I have visions of myself staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed completely helpless, because who do I call? When you're dealing with an unstoppable volcano of waste, who do you call? A plumber? The police? Mommy? Jesus? What could they do? They, like me, could do nothing to stop this. Even a plumber is, without a doubt, unprepared for a disaster of this magnitude. So I'd just stand there and wait until this stopped which, in my mind, is never.
There's no childhood fear behind this. I've never been witness to any out-of-the-ordinary toilet-related complications. I don't even know if this kind of powerful vertical shit expulsion is something a toilet is actually capable of doing. All I have to go on is my terrible, terrible visions and this drawing I made to explain it to my therapist.
***UPDATE: If the comments of this article are any indication, (as well as the 100+ emails I've received), the people of the world are just as interested in irrational fears as I am. To speak to this desire, the lovely and talented Lounsey has decided to start a Blog wherein users can submit their own irrational fears, and waste hours reading about the fears of others.