Super Powered
Lady Mood's eyes flashed from determined steely blue to firey rage red. The Inhibitor was up to his usual tricks and lashed out with his power to dampen the fighting spirit of our heroes. Lady Mood riposted with her emotive blast of withering contempt. The Inhibitor cringed.
Meanwhile, Nimbus, flying over head, wrapped in an incongurously soft layer of curling mists, threw her arms forward and from her outstretched fingers hurtled a flight of stinging hailstones, showering the villians below.
The fray intensified. Battling teams of mutants, trying in desperation to harness their quixotic abilities to win the day.
And there was Vibrato with her voice power, having the ability to subtly persuade or blast down a wall.
Phaze who could be in more than one place at the same time and phase into different levels of reality.
Amnesia who could make you forget your whole life.
Marine Girl with the power to breathe under water, swim like a speeding torpedo, control the waves, talk to dolphins and was a hell surfer to boot.
VerdiGris, the plantwoman, able to communicate and control all plants and strangely understands all human languages.
These were just some of our intrepid heroes in an outfit called SuperTroopers (after the ABBA song of the same name!)
At work a few weeks ago, a conversation started about who had seen the latest instalment of the X-Men franchise. Most of us had. The conversation evolved into a game of "If you were a mutant..."
The rules were pretty simple. You had to define your power(s), your mutant name, your costume, your secret identity, and your nemesis. Everyone had imput which was just as well, because after awhile, people start to get greedy, and well, you can't just declare you're a god with everything power that does everything.
I ended up acting as a mediator in the game and when it came to my turn, my co-workers decided to give me my powers and history.
Could I fly? Er... no.
Could I bend metal with my bare hands? Definitely not.
Read minds? Walk through walls? Control something? Morph? No, no, no and no.
My super power, it was decided, was to make tea.
Granted it was SPECIAL tea, that soothed and healed. But that's it. Make tea. And I was the stay at home type too. No adventures for this Super Trolly Dolly. No I was at the secret headquaters, brewing up a cuppa, making the superbeds and keeping up with the housecleaning and oh, yeah, co-ordinating the itineries of the SuperTroopers in their never ending fight against evil. "Have a nice day saving the world? Here's a soothing and healing cup of tea. And I've just popped some muffins in the oven, should be ready soon. Apple and cinnamon ok?"
I guess I looked somewhat deflated by my underwheling superpowers because I was grudgingly granted the extra ability to "know things". What things? You know, just things.
And my name?
The Steeper.
Yeah, all the super villains are trembling in their boots at the sound of that name. Oh no, it's the Steeper! Look out he's death with a tea bag!
The funny thing is I named my blog 'The Adventures of Domestic Boy' because years and years ago, before I left Newcastle the first time, I once quipped, in a self deprecating moment, that if I was superhero, I'd definitely be a sidekick and my superpower would be to make the perfect cup of tea, everytime. I'd be called Domestic Boy.
This comment arose, as a result of friends at the time declaring that I was soothing to be around. And nice. Like the perfect cup of tea.
It seems that I haven't changed.
The nice and soothing thing is well and good. But it's something that sort of haunts me.
You see, gay men also have superpowers. Of course there's gaydar. That rather quirky ability, which sometimes is startlingly accurate, to know when someone's gay when they appear or say they're not. Of course, it always goes on the blink when you need it most. And then there's what I call, Social Invisibility In The Company of Heterosexuals. This is the strange ability to be completely ignored in conversation if you happen to be the only gay man in group of men, or be the fly on the wall when a group of straight women are talking.
(And for straight men who think otherwise - Size does matter!)
Under the cloak of SIITCOH I've heard a multitude of women declare that nice guys aren't sexy. Oh they're great to be around and sensitive men can be so soothing. But they make better friends.
And then suddenly the cloak lifts and one of the girls will turn to me and say -"And that's why we like you so much, you're so nice and sensitive. Soothing to be around" Like a good cup of tea.
All right, so I'm not that worried about coming off as sexy to women. But I can help thinking, is it the same thing for gay men? I mean, most hetero people seem, on one level, to assume that gay men are basically like women in many respects, certainly we're often cast in that role socially. And I would say, actually, this is crap, as gay men are men, well and truely before they're gay. But in this instance, it's a thought that I just can't dismiss. You know that nice and sensitive in a man is also not sexy to gay men.
I get plenty of guys, based on my looks and body, who tell me I'm sexy when we first meet. But when we get to know each other, I don't often get hear the sexy thing anymore. And quickly any ardour seems to die. And the 'let's be friends' line is trotted out. Because you're so nice and I don't want to loose your friendship. I'm very desirable as a friend.
Perhaps Domestic Boy has another superpower, aside from the Perfection of Tea. Perhaps he's in touch with his inner lesbian and has the power of Lesbian Bed Death. Because he's so nice.
Is that the whoot-woo of the whistle of sexy appreciation I hear? No, it's just the kettle boiling on the stove. Best be off and make another cup of tea.
Meanwhile, Nimbus, flying over head, wrapped in an incongurously soft layer of curling mists, threw her arms forward and from her outstretched fingers hurtled a flight of stinging hailstones, showering the villians below.
The fray intensified. Battling teams of mutants, trying in desperation to harness their quixotic abilities to win the day.
And there was Vibrato with her voice power, having the ability to subtly persuade or blast down a wall.
Phaze who could be in more than one place at the same time and phase into different levels of reality.
Amnesia who could make you forget your whole life.
Marine Girl with the power to breathe under water, swim like a speeding torpedo, control the waves, talk to dolphins and was a hell surfer to boot.
VerdiGris, the plantwoman, able to communicate and control all plants and strangely understands all human languages.
These were just some of our intrepid heroes in an outfit called SuperTroopers (after the ABBA song of the same name!)
At work a few weeks ago, a conversation started about who had seen the latest instalment of the X-Men franchise. Most of us had. The conversation evolved into a game of "If you were a mutant..."
The rules were pretty simple. You had to define your power(s), your mutant name, your costume, your secret identity, and your nemesis. Everyone had imput which was just as well, because after awhile, people start to get greedy, and well, you can't just declare you're a god with everything power that does everything.
I ended up acting as a mediator in the game and when it came to my turn, my co-workers decided to give me my powers and history.
Could I fly? Er... no.
Could I bend metal with my bare hands? Definitely not.
Read minds? Walk through walls? Control something? Morph? No, no, no and no.
My super power, it was decided, was to make tea.
Granted it was SPECIAL tea, that soothed and healed. But that's it. Make tea. And I was the stay at home type too. No adventures for this Super Trolly Dolly. No I was at the secret headquaters, brewing up a cuppa, making the superbeds and keeping up with the housecleaning and oh, yeah, co-ordinating the itineries of the SuperTroopers in their never ending fight against evil. "Have a nice day saving the world? Here's a soothing and healing cup of tea. And I've just popped some muffins in the oven, should be ready soon. Apple and cinnamon ok?"
I guess I looked somewhat deflated by my underwheling superpowers because I was grudgingly granted the extra ability to "know things". What things? You know, just things.
And my name?
The Steeper.
Yeah, all the super villains are trembling in their boots at the sound of that name. Oh no, it's the Steeper! Look out he's death with a tea bag!
The funny thing is I named my blog 'The Adventures of Domestic Boy' because years and years ago, before I left Newcastle the first time, I once quipped, in a self deprecating moment, that if I was superhero, I'd definitely be a sidekick and my superpower would be to make the perfect cup of tea, everytime. I'd be called Domestic Boy.
This comment arose, as a result of friends at the time declaring that I was soothing to be around. And nice. Like the perfect cup of tea.
It seems that I haven't changed.
The nice and soothing thing is well and good. But it's something that sort of haunts me.
You see, gay men also have superpowers. Of course there's gaydar. That rather quirky ability, which sometimes is startlingly accurate, to know when someone's gay when they appear or say they're not. Of course, it always goes on the blink when you need it most. And then there's what I call, Social Invisibility In The Company of Heterosexuals. This is the strange ability to be completely ignored in conversation if you happen to be the only gay man in group of men, or be the fly on the wall when a group of straight women are talking.
(And for straight men who think otherwise - Size does matter!)
Under the cloak of SIITCOH I've heard a multitude of women declare that nice guys aren't sexy. Oh they're great to be around and sensitive men can be so soothing. But they make better friends.
And then suddenly the cloak lifts and one of the girls will turn to me and say -"And that's why we like you so much, you're so nice and sensitive. Soothing to be around" Like a good cup of tea.
All right, so I'm not that worried about coming off as sexy to women. But I can help thinking, is it the same thing for gay men? I mean, most hetero people seem, on one level, to assume that gay men are basically like women in many respects, certainly we're often cast in that role socially. And I would say, actually, this is crap, as gay men are men, well and truely before they're gay. But in this instance, it's a thought that I just can't dismiss. You know that nice and sensitive in a man is also not sexy to gay men.
I get plenty of guys, based on my looks and body, who tell me I'm sexy when we first meet. But when we get to know each other, I don't often get hear the sexy thing anymore. And quickly any ardour seems to die. And the 'let's be friends' line is trotted out. Because you're so nice and I don't want to loose your friendship. I'm very desirable as a friend.
Perhaps Domestic Boy has another superpower, aside from the Perfection of Tea. Perhaps he's in touch with his inner lesbian and has the power of Lesbian Bed Death. Because he's so nice.
Is that the whoot-woo of the whistle of sexy appreciation I hear? No, it's just the kettle boiling on the stove. Best be off and make another cup of tea.
posted by Van Dino at 11:54 am
3 comments
