the case for invisibility

Let it be known that Rex L. Camino has nothing against the ability to fly. Were the choice just between normal human capacity for movement and the superpower of flight, I would prefer to fly. Flight certainly kicks more ass than the conventional methods of narrowing the distance between points A and B, and I would never dream of insinuating that those of you in the “flying” camp are anything other than god-fearing and productive members of society who have simply chosen unwisely in this particular hypothetical preference that you contemplate in those quiet moments to have at the ready for when the question is posed.

I, however, choose invisibility without hesitation.

Consider this:

Let’s say that an imminent threat looms over your city. Let’s say, for example, that it is a disgruntled minotaur of some fashion and that the weak imbeciles who comprise the citizenry of your chosen town no longer even feign an interest in taking care of their own damn problems. They see a minotaur an immediately begin whining for that guy with the superpowers.

That would be you.

However, you don’t need this shit. You’ve grown weary of your neighbors and may even feel that they deserve to reap the ill effects of having voted a freakin’ minotaur into the office of county mayor. Allowing this rampage is either the only way they will learn or the quickest way to remove them from the voting segment and perhaps even the gene pool. Either way, you have chosen to sit this one out.

You can’t do that if you’re Flying Guy. Your common dumbass walking down the street will see an angry minotaur and then say something original like, “Shit! Where’s that guy who can fly?”

The large woman standing beside him in the Big and Rich T-shirt will pry herself from the cell phone and her very public conversation about one of her relatives needing a new organ to say, “You mean Flying Guy?”

“Yeah, that’s him”, the first dumbass will reply. “Where you recon he is right now?”

It may take a while, but they will eventually look up, and you will be there. You’re Flying Guy. That’s what you do.

You could choose not to help, but that would cause some considerably unfavorable publicity. It would follow you from place to place, and no amount of good deeds or heroic actions would ever keep the newscaster from adding a brief mention of that time you just flew around while a disgruntled minotaur gored the population of your old town. Things like that are hard to spin in your favor, and any attempt at an explanation, no matter how sincere, would always come out sounding like an excuse.

Now, imagine that you’re Invisible Guy and you hear something like, “Shit, that minotaur done gone all crazy and shit! Where’s that guy we can’t see?”

“You mean that guy who’s there and does stuff sometimes without us seein’ him?”

“Yeah. You see him anywhere?”

No, she doesn’t, and Uncle Junior will soon have a donor for that new pancreas.

See, Invisible Guy can always choose who to help and who to ignore in a god-like manner without the worry of consequences. When asked after the mass goring why you did nothing you can simply say, “I was on the other side of town getting a cat out of a tree. I’m not Guy Who Can Get There Really Fast Every Time Mayor Minotaur Goes Berserk Guy.”

Of course you’re not. You’re just a guy who can flip the hero switch off when he wants, wander around restaurants randomly eating things off people’s plates whenever he’s hungry, and then do all the nefarious things that first come to mind when people choose invisibility.