Anyone who’s passed through a multiplex has a good understanding of the rules of superheroism, but it’s usually confined to on-camera antics. And they’re usually somewhere a bit more glamorous than rural Arizona.
The most recent Rolling Stone has a quasi-exposé about the phenomenon of “reals,” grown men who don self-designed costumes to fight the forces of evil…which usually means local purse-snatchers and the occasional drug dealer.
We’re not going to fault them for doing a little amateur police work in their spare time, and a secret identity can come in handy for lots of reasons, but did they really need the costumes? Nobody questions the occasional good Samaritan, but when you start strapping on shin-guards and ordering a SUPRHRO vanity plate, you’ve gone too far. As the Dark Knight so memorably put it, “I’m not wearing hockey pants.”