By Zach Oberman

This Superhero Diary was brought to you by Justice League of America #19, written by Alan Burnett. Honestly the issue was a bit anti-climactic after #16-18, but it’s an interesting premise and Burnett’s dialogue is strong. We’ll still give him a thumbs up.

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Author: Look, up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s… if you don’t know who this is, you better ask somebody. Listening to: 3 Doors Down Mood: Ashamed

Sometimes people ask me, “Hey Superman – what’s your most embarrassing moment?” I guess they want to feel like I’m more like them, more human. Hey, I understand – the Supe is nothing if not compassionate. I tell them the story about the time I was in such a hurry to stop Metallo that I rushed out and forgot to put on pants, and we all share a chuckle at the image of me fighting a robot in nothing but my undies. Sure, it never happened, but am I really going to tell them about the time I got beat up by Batman? Or how I cry whenever I watch Bambi? Or about the time I got drunk and told the Martian Manhunter that he should turn himself into a chick so we could make out? I don’t care if I seem more human – I’m not human. I’m Superman. The Supe. Recognize. Most humans don’t have a Pulitzer prize – the Supe does. Most humans don’t have a super hot wife who also has her own Pulitzer Prize – the Supe does. Humans don’t have heat vision, the ability to fly, and the ability to punch their apartment building into orbit. But the Supe does, and the Supe will not be laughed at.

I mention it because I have a new addition to the list of moments we will never speak of, ever: getting rescued by Red Arrow. For those of you who don’t know, he’s the current archer on the Justice League. No, that’s not a typo. I said archer. As in, a guy who fights crime with a bow and some arrows, just in case he runs across a break-in at the local teepee or something.

If the Justice League has anything like an Affirmative Action policy, it’s for archers. It seems like we always have to have one, even though no one knows why. I always thought we kept Green Arrow around because he’s old and if we left him alone he might get confused and put an arrow through his housekeeper, but I don’t see why his sidekick gets to join the club; all the kid does is surf the internet and take up space. He’s like a superhero intern. Yes, he has glue arrows, flare arrows, net arrows and the like, but so what? Batman has all that crap in his belt. I could carry it around with me too if I wanted, but then I’d have to have Ma sew pockets into my costume, and the bulges would make me look less ripped. (Plus, what does the Supe need a flare for? I have flare VISION.) If he really wants to make himself useful he should make himself a couple quivers full of coffee arrows, because the Supe is not a morning person.

For the record, let me say that this has nothing to do with him being just a human. Some of my best friends are humans – shit, I even married one. And I have no problem with Batman being in the League, because that dude is crazy smart. He can solve a Rubik’s cube in like ten seconds flat. (I can do that too, but his solution doesn’t involve throwing it into the sun.) And while I’d never admit it to his face, Batman is bad-ass. Red Arrow is not. The difference might be that Batman didn’t name himself after his equipment. Who knows if I’d have as much respect for him if his name were “Black Boomerang” or “Yellow Belt.” Batman even has his own plane, while Red Arrow has to be carried around everywhere like a lucky penny that’s five-eleven and weighs 200 lbs. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: a better name for him would be Red Luggage.

I will say this for Red Arrow: the guy may be a carnival act, but he’s either got a roofie-arrow or some serious game, because he managed to bag Hawkgirl, a choice piece of ass with legitimate superpowers. Funny: I thought the feather goes in the arrow, not the other way around. (Zing! Superman gets the square!)

And if it wasn’t bad enough that the kid comes in and starts nailing our superladies, this walking, talking novelty managed to rescue the entire Justice League, including me! The Supe! I have trouble believing in any creature more powerful than yours truly, but if there is a God, he’s probably laughing his head off right now.

Let me back up a bit.  A couple months ago, the government started rounding up all the superpowered bad guys and shipping them off somewhere. I was fine with it – outta sight, outta mind like my pa used to say, and you’ll never hear me complaining about the lighter work load - but then Batman had a good point: without any supervillains, the taxpayers might start to wonder why they’re paying 2 billion a month to fund our little clubhouse on the moon, and why our headquarters needs a Jacuzzi. (Answer: because Wonder Woman, Black Canary and Vixen like to have a soak after missions, and the day that goes away you’re going to have one very pissed-off Kryptonian on your hands.)

We (okay, okay - Batman) found out that the government had been teleporting the villains off to an uninhabited planet and Martian Manhunter, who had gotten himself sent off with the criminals, was reporting that the conditions were horrible. Again, if bullets can’t harm me I’m certainly not going to shed any tears because a couple mass murderers miss their blankie, but I also don’t want to get sent to Planet Evil when someone finds out that flying isn’t the only way I like to get high. No one’s going to believe that Superman has glaucoma.

So we went to check it out, but there weren’t any criminals to be found. Instead it was a trap, set by arch-nuisance Kanjar Ro. (On the supervillain scale, Kanjar Ro isn’t exactly Starro the Conquerer or Doomsday. I’m sure he’d be able to give the Coast Guard a run for their money, and yes, he has enslaved the Justice League a couple of times, but by far the scariest part about him is that he looks totally gross.  It’s like someone put arms and legs on a fetal shark.) He had managed to capture us using some force field thingie and while I’m man enough to admit that they were strong enough to hold even me, I want it said for the record that he only beat me because he caught me by surprise.

And let the Supe make one more thing absolutely clear: we would have gotten out. We had Me, Batman, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern, against the galactic equivalent of a jaywalker; there’s NO WAY we’re not heading home within the hour. So while Red Arrow pulled off the luckiest rescue ever, it was just because we just hadn’t figured out our escape YET.

Anyway, I guess Kanjar’s force fieldamajig didn’t work on Hawkgirl. (Batman had some theory why, but it just sounded to me like, “blah blah blah, I’m Batman, I’m so special, check out all the big words I can use.”) And while Hawkgirl would have been more effective if she had just perched above Kanjar and taken a crap on his head, during the struggle she was able to free Red Arrow, who disabled him by throwing an arrowhead through his hand.

A day ago I would have said that nothing could be more embarrassing than being saved by one of the archers, and while it doesn’t happen often, the Supe would have been wrong. Because while it’s humiliating to be saved by an archer, it’s much, much more humiliating to be saved by an archer who thinks it’s witty to add, “Too slow, Ro!” Someone needs to teach the intern that you don’t rhyme when you’re in the Justice League. Instead you try and comport yourself with a little thing we like to call DIGNITY.

I’m just glad that Batman was there with us - I’d never be able to look him in the eye after something like this. (He’d smirk that stupid smirk of his and I’d have to throw his car in the ocean again, even though he’d just buy a new one.) Luckily he carries the same shame as the rest of us.  As I write this I can hear him in the Batcave, sticking his finger down his throat to induce vomiting. Wonder Woman is crying in the upstairs bathroom.

Oh gross. I just heard Red Arrow and Hawkgirl. They’re, uh, roosting. HARD. And Red Arrow just asked her, “Who’s your superhero?” Dear God, I’ve been saved by an archer. I don’t know if there’s enough booze in the world for me to forget that this happened. I’ve already taken three showers and flown through a small star, and I still feel dirty.

Later,

The Supe