The New Hero

David Blankton was a man of good intentions. He wanted to help those in need – particularly those in need of personal emotional guidance. He knew that he was privileged in his uniquely pious attitude and clerical accuracy of thought, and desired to spread the positive energy to the world around him. He didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he rather thought fondly of himself.

He made a habit out of talking to the poor patients at the local mental hospital (St. Anthony Clinic for Troubled Persons). He would listen to their troubling stories, nod, and place his understanding hand on their shoulders. He felt good about himself, being such a considerate, compassionate man who helped the needs of many. One day a troubled man with a Zoro mask and a black cape appeared in front of him, quite suddenly, and David, though taken aback by the unexpected confrontation, thought of it as a pre-ordained opportunity to make a good influence on a fellow man.

The Zoro-man collapsed onto the floor of the ward, flailing wildly.
David gave an expression of pity for the poor man, who obviously suffered from a kind of a hero-complex from the look of his outfit. He kneeled down in a manner he imagined to be that of a knight in shining armor.
“Everything is ok. I am trying to help the world, too. It’s ok – it’s ok to be who you want to be.”
“OF COURSE IT IS OK I AM FIGHTING THE GOOD FIGHT -” the Zoro-man snapped back, angrily.
David, who is used to being showered with thanks and compliments from vulnerable individuals, was taken aback. “I am only trying to help. Many around here will tell you what a good man I am.” He looked around. He only saw one man he recognized, who promptly turned his face away.

“Don’t worry. I understand.” He said, as he was about to reach over to place his hand in a confident, compassionate gesture.
“YOU DONT UNDERSTAND THAT YOU DONT UNDERSTAND.” – the man screamed wildly, while slapping his hand away.
“Ok. Ok. I got it – I don’t understand.” David held his hands up in a defensive yet understanding manner.
“YOU STILL DONT GET IT. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND!!!” The Zoro-mask practically vibrated as he screamed in a voice that indicated that he was being attacked. The entire room of patients quieted in that moment and turned their attention towards them.
“FOR CHRISSAKE WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY I DONT GET IT.” This was too much for David. He was finally on his edge – a true demon – something that he had never before confronted. He hardly looked like a hero, now.
“Oh… good. Now you understand.” The man said, crossing his arms with a self satisfied posture of victory.
“AHHHH WTF!!!!! YOU ARE INSANE. LEAVE ME ALONE.” David stomped off, violently cussing, convincing himself that this was the stupidest conversation he had ever taken part in.

The Zoro-man wiped the sweat off of his brow from the hard day of work. David has been harassing the clinic for weeks – giving people with criminal behavior the unneeded confidence in their worldview, and the victims of habitual abuse an outright dangerous faith in their co-dependent relationships. After looking around, making sure no sensitive individuals were traumatized by this much-needed episode, he quietly sighed to himself,
“Phew – I did good work today. Good job – Zoro-man,”
and he walked away into the setting sun – his black cape flapping in the wind of the future. The patients of the ward looked onto the hero of the New Generation – the faint possibility of, someday, leading humanity to the path of True Sanity.

The New Hero

Asher Davidson

Los Angeles, United States

  • Artist

Artist's Description

An unsung hero and a madman.

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