Bill's Hero Complex

Courage. A commonly claimed aspect of humanity that truly fails to permeate its denizens. Who’s truly courageous? You, me…doubtful.

Oh…ho ho, you say, ‘I ran into a burning building to save my little girl’s cat. How’s that for courage, eh?’ You grin, beaming a self righteousness, absorbing my praise for your courage, your selflessness, your undeniable prowess as a more important human being than my poor, pitiful self. Of course, I follow the same rote collection of reactions that every Tom Dick and Harry in this slobbering world would relay. I can’t deny you your glory. You did run into a burning building.

Heroism had nothing to do with it though. Heroism is the disregard for personal affliction and well being for no other reason than to do the right thing. Commonly labeled as Bravery, more commonly mislabeled as Courage, – a vague, distilled brand of a certain kind of universal selflessness – Heroism is claimed as often and as willy nilly as the array of lexis that accompany it, on the news, in the papers, on the street corners, in your own head.

That cat was a cat. Your little girl’s cat. You couldn’t care 2 cents less if it died in a fire. It’s a fucking cat. Oh, but hey, you can’t forget about that little girl. The one you’ve raised now into her 10th year. 2 years of slobbering and crapping, screaming and puking, followed by 3 years of endless arguments, potty training, the onset of conciousness into this little being you have wrought upon the world.

You love her. She is your little girl. If she were to still be in that building, crying for her life, you’d be there. A hero in your own right, searching for your poor little girl, slowly succumbing to the smoke, choking on the hard wood floors – with the brand new paneling. For her you would die, fighting the flames, the smoke, the destruction of your life, your tiny corner of the world. Hero isn’t in your mind, your baby is burning. The joys of her life flood your mind

Such a cute baby, her first steps, her first words, her first day of school. Photo albums, packed with pictures, so cute, so perfect, so loved. This, your daughter, your child, she is burning, and you would die to save her.

Would you die to save her cat? Not a chance in hell. It’s a fucking cat.

She’ll be sad if it dies though.

She needs to learn about death sooner or later

She’s only 10. Protect her from the world.

Fuck that. This world’s already fucked enough, let her see what she’s getting into.

She’ll cry. She’ll cry for days. Where’s my baby? My little fluffy, kitty baby. Where’s my little Trixie?

If she cries, I have to console her. She’ll be on about it for days. I won’t get a moments rest. This could be bad.

Save the cat. It’s the right thing to do. You’ll be protecting her. She’ll love you. You’ll be her HERO..

Ah, well there it is. It comes out. That four letter word that seems to float about every time a disaster strikes up. You’ve lived a dull life. Fully and happy yes. A beautiful -family, a steady job, a nice home – burning, yet insured.

But…And there’s always that but. But, where are your thrills. Where are your race car championships, where are your batting titles, or cliff diving thrills. Where is you purple heart for bravery? You’ve done what many dream of, built a life of beauty and simplicity. You are quite happy. Every day is a good day.

And blissfully dull. You need a reason to exist and to feel a certain rush in your life. You stand in front of the home that you’ve built, your daughter crying in your wife’s arms. “Where’s Trixie? I want my Trixie. Mommy, where’s Trixie?”

You stare in those burning holes, windows to your life, dull, gone, lost. Your entire life lays strewn around you, crying, consoling, and combining with the oxygen that you are currently breathing.

And now you’ve been given a chance. In front of you is a chance. One to show that you’re not dull. This is life; this world that is burning in front of your eyes will soon be rebuilt. What will you bring from the wreckage of its precursor? The corpse of a 10 year old’s pet cat. You think not.

Into the flames with you. Burn baby burn.