Thinking Aloud

The old man lived near my work so I dropped him off outside. He didn't say thanks or goodbye, but he did shake my hand and look me in the eyes, which kind of meant more to me actually than any words. Not sure why, but it did.

As soon as I went inside the editor called me into his office.

"Aaron, we've got a great story for you today!"

I took a deep breath and thought to myself, "What great story? A refugee caught picking a flower in park?"

The editor stopped talking and glared at me.

"What's the matter?", I asked. He just glared at me still.

"Did I say that out loud? Sorry...."

I really know I shouldn't use my superpowers for my own gain, but this is the last time. I did the Jedi mind trick on him again to forget.

"We've got a great story for you, today the government are launching a new Commission on Integration and Cohesion to tackle ethnic tension. We want you to go to Downing Street to cover the story. We've set up a 10 minute slot for you to interview Tony Blair. This is an exclusive, so don't fu*k this up, ok!"

(What a coincidence! These things only happen in the movies, don’t they?)

"Ok"




I had to take a tube to Downing Street. I hate the underground, and especially today. The adrenaline in my system was making me sweat in my Super-suit under my work clothes, and all I wanted to do was fly to dry myself off.

Before I could interview Blair I had to sit through a press conference first. All the big names in journalism were there, and all the top MP’s were there to show solidarity for whatever it was they were launching, except they made apologies for John Prescott saying he was on official duty elsewhere. Little did they know I flew him to Jamaica to hide away in Pinnicle with my Idrins. He should be much more relaxed by the time I pick him up.

The key messages of the press conference were:

Ø Multiculturalism
Ø Community
Ø Cohesion
Ø Integration
Ø Ethnic Minorities
Ø Tolerance
Ø Moderate Muslims good
Ø Fundamentalist terrorists bad
Ø Other ethnic minorities please get involved if you really want to

After a lot of waiting around I was called into to interview Blair. His aid asked me to follow him into a plush office, which according to the door plaque was called the West Wing. As I entered Blair stood up to shake my hand. He was very friendly and didn’t recognise me as I had my glasses on.

As we sat down to talk, his body guard stood closer behind him. The same one from Blair’s garden the other day. He glared at me. I glared at him.

I adjusted my glasses and asked Blair the first question.


Image adapted from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Superman:_Clark_Kent_sub-article

Grand Gestures and Small Deeds

Most people have the impression that being a SuperHero is all about saving the planet from total annihilation from some evil adversary. That is definitely true. But it is also about quite small things as well.

This morning on the way to "work" it was absolutely chucking it down with rain. At some traffic lights I saw this elder frail looking man walking alongside in the same direction, hunched over trying not to get drenched by the heavy drops.

I wound down the window and shouted out to him.

"Do you want a lift? I can take you anywhere you need to go."

He looked at me, stopped in his tracks and shouted back.

"I thought you were never going to ask!"

Dread at the Controls

See: Justice for Jean at - http://www.justice4jean.com/

dread_at_work.

My feet haven't touched the ground all week! This is the first chance I've had to reflect on everything that's been happening. My head is spinning with information....

Today is Wednesday, so here's a swift romp through my week.

LAST SUNDAY EVENING
If you remember I discoverd John Prescott being held prisoner in a basement at Tony Blair's house. He told me they put him down there to keep him out of trouble.

He also told me that Blair is not actually in control of the country and is actually just a puppet for the real evil leader, but no one know who that is. It's been going on for the past 4 years and that's why he's been acting like "such a wan*er!!" (John's words, not mine)

We managed to escape from the basement unnoticed and I gave John a lift home. He's a really nice guy actually.....

TASK ONE: SuperDread to free the UK/Britain from Evil

MONDAY
My first day at work. The first story I had to cover was a conservative counciller who was suing his labour council. He said his human rights were being violated by a job advert which asked for "Ethnic Minority" applicants to apply for the role as 'Racism officer for refugee communities'. He said IF he was interested in going for the job he would not have been able to. I asked him if he was qualified to do the job. "No". Does he even want to do the job. "No. But that's not really the point, is it." Hmmmm...

TUESDAY
I had to cover a story about an "illegal immigrant" who was fined for illegally working as a language teacher – teaching his friends and family to speak English for £2 a session. He may now be deported. Hmmmmmmm…….

In the evening I was sent to an inner city “urban” area to right about gang related crime and the high numbers of gun and knife offences. High levels of immigration in the area was being blamed. Hmmmmmmmmmmm……

Are you sensing a theme here????????????

TASK TWO: SuperDread to find a new job!



A photo of some Pigeon Holes, yesterday!

Image adapted from: http://cardboardpeople.com/

Image adapted from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pigeonhole_principle

SuperDread meets Tony Blair

Today I felt the urge to be helpful. The wife & kids have gone out for the day to a children's party. I could have gone but they always get me to do party tricks, like melting a spoon in my bare hands, stuff like that, and today I wasn't in the mood to be act like a clown.

Reading the papers and watching the news it was obvious the world is in need of help. That is what my job was, (as a SuperHero, not a journalist!). I needed to meet with the man in charge. I used my SuperHearing to listen to conversations across the country and positioned Tony Blair, the Prime Minister of the UK, (or Britain, or England, or whatever this place is called).

I flew over to his location straight away and dropped in on him. I saw him sat in his garden writing. He didn't see me at first. I kept quiet, amused to hear him reciting a poem.

"Dear Dubya /how much do I love thee / let me count the ways..."

I tried to stiffle laughter but was rumbled. Tony looked up at me and dropped his pen in shock. I tried to regain my professionalism.

"Hello Mr Blair." I said, offereing to shake his hand.

"Who the fu*k are you?" He replied.

"Well, who the hell are you?" Tony demanded.

"I'm SuperDread, and I come in peace."

I then told him the secret codeword that SuperHeroes have been given to communicate with governments. He understood the meaning of the code and asked me about my the Works I was to carry out. I told him I was here to eradicate oppression and exploitation anywhere I find it, and I see much of it happening in Britain today.

He was about to say something but we were interrupted. Stood at the door was a huge security man with a gun. Tony looked at me with low eyes. I was blindfolded and taken to the basement.

I chose not to fight as I wanted to know their plans first. I could easily escape when I wanted to. Pacing my dungeon cell I put my SuperHearing into effect. I could hear a strange voice talking. It must have been the guard. I couldn't hear Tony mumbling his approval.

"We'll deal with him in the morning." The voice said. "Get him deported for anything we can pin on him."

Their footsteps dissapeared up the stairs. I then heard a coughing and wheezing. A new voice I didn't hear before coming from behind the damp wall I was chained to. The raspy voice then pleaded.

"Help. Anybody there? Help me...."

He must have heard me being brought in. Hearing that I took action. I broke free from the chains (a piece of cake) and broke down the wall behind me. I came face to face with an old looking dishevelled man with puffy eyes. "I'm SuperDread and I'm here to save you. Are you ok? Who are you?"

"I'm John Prescott the Deputy Prime Minister. You're in grave danger!"

[To be continued]

Image adapted from: http://www.supermantoys.net/

Image adapted from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Superman

Image adapted from: http://www.supermanartists.comics.org/superwhoswho/SupermanPage.html

More Strength

I found my strength tonight, but not by reading words alone. I found it by seeing with my eyes the reason for my inspiration, His Imperial Majesty Emperor Haile Selassie I JAH Rastafari.

I will go to bed tonight and sleep peacefully in the knowledge that tomorrow is another day, and that all good things will come.

One Love.

Not feeling too Super today

Image adapted from: http://www.supermanhomepage.com/images/characters/
superman-images/AlexRossSupdesk-tb.html


I was warned this day would come, but didn't realise it would be so soon.

I have doubts about my decision to do this SuperHero work. Who am I for goodness sake? What makes me so special? I can't even manage my own business without getting all emotional, so how can I help anyone else? I thought I'd got over it but I' still upset about yesterday. People like that will never change. Who am I kidding that I can make a difference? I should just give up now. If you can't beat them.......

The only thing stopping me from taking off this suit (which is getting a bit tight on me I have to say!) and hanging it up forever, is because I was told this day would come. You may have picked up my subtle hints by now, but I come from a community (Kyrpton) full of SuperHeroes. Think of any and chances are they come from my neighbourhood. When I announced my plans to them, without fail they all said to me, "you'll regret it, but it'll be too late by then." Their words are ringing in my ears again. Shit.....

To muster some strength, I pick up the book again to read Psalm 121, again. That usually makes me feel better. That and a good nights sleep.

"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help..........."

A Song of degrees

It's the middle of the night and I still feel stressed from what happened today at the newspaper offices. I sit down to meditate.

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.

He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand.

The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

JAH Rastafari.
Haile Selassie I.


I feel much more peaceful now.

One Love

Break the chains of Babylon

I'm very angry and upset, but unfortunately not surprised.

I managed to get an interview today with one of the national daily newspapers here in England, (I won't say which one), to become a journalist. I emailed them my CV and spoke over the phone. Both of those went fine, but as soon as I turned up at the offices in London they act like they wanted to call the security guards on me.

I was there early. Dressed smart. Hair tied back, and still they acted like that old lady from my childhood, (see 'First realisation I was Super' - below). The cheeky woman at reception asking me if I was "sure I was in the right place". I felt like turning her to ice there and then, but I'm better than that.

I'm more than qualified to do this job, but in the interview they kept asking me if I had approach any of the 'black press' for work. I asked them, "why? Is it because only dem know how to relate to black people?"

They shifted uncomfortably in their seats and mumbled into their cappicinos.

I know I shouldn't use my super powers for my own gains, but this issue is bigger than just me. I did the Jedi Mind Trick on them (I learnt it from my cousin Luke) and made them offer me the job. If they think they can treat black people like that then it's a good job I come to this place. They won't get away with it again!

Image adapted from: http://www.superherostuff.com/Biographies/SupermanBio.html


My first day reporting for the paper is on Monday. Watch this space.

More Fiyah! JAH Rastafari

I didn't even want to work as a journalist as that's far too cliched for a SuperHero. (Especially for the cousin of Kal-El). I went along to the interview as I had the opportunity, and made sure I got the job just to prove a point. I will never let anyone say I can't do anything because I'm Black, and I wouldn't them do it to anyone else either. That is my First Rule, and my Last Rule.

Don't ever forget that.

One Love

Job Hunting

Greetings.

Although I've got my hands busy with my SuperHero work, unfortunately it doesn't pay the rent. I just picked up the local paper the Evening Post to search for a job.

Thanks to my Crystal memorizing education in Kyrpton I'm pretty much qualified to do anything. Some criticise the system as being all theory with no practical experience, but I think people are just jealous. If they could memorise the whole of the internet in one 15 minute medication burst in a crystal chamber, I'm sure they wouldn't turn their nose up at it.

I don't mind what I do really.

The ones that look most interesting that I've circled are;

office cleaner
primary school teacher
sales assistant
call centre operative
gardener
tv presenter
journalist
milkman
postman
international super model
policeman
assembly line worker in a tomato ketchup factory
fashion designer
feature film producer
and hairdresser

Hmmmmm.....

Image adapted from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/desperateworkingmommas/17217843/

I need to get a job by the end of this week.

Time to arrange some interviews. Wish me luck.

One Love

My first plane journey, and first official act of Herosim

I'm so used to flying everywhere with my red cape, I felt like a sell-out getting on a plane, but I had no choice really. I'm bringing the whole family over from Krypton and had all my luggage and I couldn't really be arsed to bring all that over on my back. You know what I mean?

It was a very strange experience. Not only were the delays at the airport a nightmare. I got frisked 10 times and our plane was delayed due to security checks for 48 hours. Everyone looked really sweaty and nervous, and on the plane I had to protect this poor bloke who was sat next to me from being harassed without provocation by some of the fellow passengers. They wanted him ejected from the plane or kept constantly monitored by the air stewardesses, it seems just because he was Muslim and reading an arabic newspaper. This apparently was "upsetting the other passengers". The air air stewardess said it would be "best for everyone" if he go and sit with them in the staff area to ensure "everyone's safety". Needless to say, in my new duty as SuperDread, I couldn't sit by and let this injustice happen to this poor man.

"If you think you're gonna treat this gentleman like this, then you'll have to take me away as well, and also my whole family." I said heroically.

I won that minor battle, but was promptly arrested as soon as the plane landed along with my new Muslim friend. After spending 5 months in a refugee detention centre somewhere in England, my wife spoke to me for the first time since that humiliating plane trip.

"You idiot!"

After being let go to live in our new high-rise flat in an anonymous English city, my wife betrayed to me her true feelings.

"You idiot!"

She let out a sigh.

"I still love you though you big fool, and am proud of you. No one else would have spoken out for that poor man. He looked so scared."

She gave me a hug and my heart melted. I now realise this superhero lark isn't going to be as easy as I expected, but I was pleased already to have made a small difference. After a drawn out legal & media campaign, my family and the Muslim guy both received a cheque "of a certain amount" as compensation for the humiliation we had suffered on the plane. The air stewardesses and the captain had been given a formal warning.

Although the money came in handy, it wasn't an ideal start. Now every reader of the Daily Mail knew what I looked like due to the publicity. Reluctantly I rang my cousin Clarke Kent for advice. After he stopped laughing, all he said was, "You should go to SpecSavers."

Now, when I'm not SuperDread, I'm Aaron Young, and I wear glasses. When I'm not Aaron Young, I'm SuperDread. Here to save the day.

More Strength. More Love.

JAH Rastafari. Haile Selassie I.

First stop, Ephraim

I've decided that the UK (or Britain, or whatever they call it!) will be the place I'll start my new career as SuperHero. I'd have too much competition if I went to the USA, (and arguably there'd be far too many people to try and save! When would I get a day off?).

Yeah I think Britain will be the place to start. And they have such a cool flag too.

Peace and Love.

First realisation I was Super

Greetings Blessed.

When I was about 14 or 15, hanging out with my mates on the lower east side of Krypton outside the penny arcade, I saw an old woman struggling with her shopping bags.

She was so frail, every footstep took an age and she was all hunched over like a question mark.

I went up to her and offered her my help to cross the road.

She looked at me and screamed something like "get away from me you fuc*ing Ni*ger!", and she ran down the road like an Olympic athlete, still carrying her bags.



Realising I had released some hidden energy in this old woman just by my presence, it was at that moment I realised I had the power to heal.

I told my older cousin Blade about it, and he said more or less the same thing happened to him when he was younger, and that's what spurred him to do his Super work.

I went home, grew my locks, read up on the history of my people, and prepared myself for the training of becoming Superhuman. My cousin Clarke Kent tried to talk me out of if, but I let him have his time, and I just waited for my moment, and now here I am.

One Love.

My First Adventure as SuperDread

My wife has gone out to work, so I have to feed the children!

I need all my strength and patience for this task. I pray for JAH Guidance. Youths need their fathers in this day & age.

Charity begins at home, doesn't it?

One Love.

Why create this SuperBlog?

Greetings.

I was having lunch with my younger sister Storm yesterday, (she is now worryingly pretty and looks more and more like Hale Berry every day I have to say). She is much more experienced in this super hero work than me, and she said, "it's all very well you coming here doing your superhero work, saving people from themselves, blah, blah, blah, but why you doing this nerdy computer blog thing for?"

I said, "Because I've spotted a gap in the market."

She looked at me curious.

I said, "There's nuff people out there doing good works, but who ever gets to hear about it? We know what suspect people like Blair, Bush and the Pope are doing, but who ever gets to hear about the good people?"


Storm asked accusingly, "So you're just doing this to big up your own chest?"

"No no no. I want to help big up other people's chest." I said.

She just looked at me and walked off, muttering, "Huh. We'lll see."

She can very harsh and cynical, my little sister. It was me who nicknamed her Storm, for good reason.

She's also now a committed Christian, and as she drove off in her SUV 4x4 I spotted the 'WWJD' (What Would Jesus Do) sticker on her bumper. I thought to myself, if He was here now this is exactly the type of technology he would be using. Wouldn't he?

One Love.

THE BEGINNING - The arrival of SuperDread

Greetings Beloved.

Some ones in this for the glory, but I know this ain't no joke thing.

The people led astray by temptation and people too busy waiting for a leader when they should be leading themselves. That is my mission. To help people see themselves as their hearts intended. Not as peer pressure or pride intended.

I was born in an urban area of the planet Krypton, but Hollywood distorted that too look like another planet, but it is right here on this rock we call Earth. I won't say in which country. Some have started to call me SuperDread. I am a new kind of superhero. I am not a saviour. I am one of you. I am not perfect, but I am prepared to put my head above the parapit.

My cousin Clarke Kent was hailed as a hero by you all for a while, and he comes back every now and then for celebrated encores, but I assure you I am the real deal. Cast aside by my uncle Jor-El because of my outspokeness and, what they called, my 'ghetto mentality'.

Well I am here now and this is my ghetto theatre, come to save the earth from itself. That means you!

This is just an experiment to begin with so I may get things wrong so please be patient, but as my lovely cousin WonderWoman once said to me, "you've got to give it a go. What have you got to lose?".

So look up to the skies.

Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?
Is it Superman?

No, It's SuperDread! JAH Rastafari. Haile Selassie I!!!

See you around.......