Unlikely Heroes

The Ubersänger, The UberLadie'sman, and Tony all walk into a bar...Ouch!



You know Nietzsche's "ubermensch," theory. The theory that there is an exemplary man somewhere. This Platonic man is the "Uberman," fantastic in all ways of life. I say Nietzche's view was a little narrow. Nietzche was a nhilist, so I understand his outlook being a little bleak.

I'm a worldly man and I've traveled far and wide meeting people that are fantastic to say the least. There's my dad, Richard Ditando, Earnest Hemmingway, Jimmy, Qui Chang Cane, Han Solo and LightSoul. Indeed, Ubermen are all over the place, being awesome, renovating history, and never getting the recognition they deserve.

Because of the abundance of Uberman, and Bricker's insatiable need to classify things into manageable categories, I've decided to give a few ubercategories which you may have overlooked. For instance Brian McMullan is our resident Uberpublican.

Don Henley: The Ubersänger

Don Henley is better than the Eagles, his collection of songs that utterly rock is larger than Joe Walsh's and he's actually better than Glenn Frye in every way. I need to say that I love Joe Walsh, and I really dig Glenn Frye. I like the Eagles, but I'd rather listen to any one of them solo than 88% of the music by the Eagles.


This begs the question how could a whole possibly be less than the sum of its parts? Wow...I didn't expect that. Bricker just explained how it's possible with physics. Apparently Henley, Meisner, Frye, Felder and Walsh are sub-atomic particles, and The Eagles are an atom...but I don't understand that. So we'll stick with my field of expertise: complex linguistic jokes.

It's simple, The Eagles, as a whole, are less than the sum of their parts because a hole by it's very nature must be so. The more component parts to take away from the hole the more it increases. Shut up, it was going to be funny before Bricker punctured my humor balloon with the ice-pick of fact.


Anyway, Boys of Summer kicks ass.

And i can see you
you brown skin shining in the sun
You got that hair slicked back and
Those Wayfarers on, baby

I love brown skinned women. I love Ray-Bans.

Out on the road today, I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac...

The Dead were a counterculture icon. A Cadillac is a status symbol. What's this? Henley commenting on his own generation? What's that Sir? The rebellious youths of your generation grew up to become captains of industry? Are you saying that liberals are only liberal because they want things to change, and then those who get their way become conservatives? But what does this do to my tenuous grasp on political ideology? That means there's no cleat cut right and wrong. That means that we should hear everyone out because both change and tradition have their merits. That means we should be wary of radicals no matter what their affiliation. Could this possibly be true about other areas of life? Religion? Work? Video games?

Mr. Henley, you're the reason why I'm a well-informed, responsible voter.

Don Henley is awesome, and he's a hell of a guy. Check this:

Phil Collins: The Uberladiesman

Woodsmen gather wood, Fishermen gather fish, Ladiesmen gather the ladies. And Phil Collins is a titan in the industry. He's not the best. He's been married three times, so he enjoys the luxury of monogamy, but he's simply too much man for one woman. So it never lasts. He seriously gets chicks left ant right, which anyone can do, but not anyone who looks like this:

Seriously, my friend here is some sort of mystical Joe Pesci/John Belushi/Paul Simon hybred. And the ladies love him, not to mention he's two steps below Christopher Walken on the dancing scale. His sense of humor puts him over the top. Hats off, Sir.

Tony: The Uberbetrüger

Who's had years of corporate training in passive aggression? Who can shake your hand and ask how your holiday went while secretly wishing a safe would fall in front of your car on your drive home, after you have a crappy day at work, causing you to veer off the road into a ravine of stagnant water containing species of interbred hairless-cat/cockroach mutants gifted with the power to control your mind making you think the slurping gurgles you're hearing as they eat your insides like soup sound like Neil Young singing Mandy Moore's greatest hits?

That's right, me.

Working here has given me a cynical view on the integrity of the human race to say the least. Most of the people I deal with are snakes, liars, backstabbers and general monsters. How do I stay afloat? I make friends with them. Having Irish heritage, I can drive away the snakes, usually with intimidation. But I can outlie the liars, making them think I'm "on the level." I'm too quick for the backstabbers, which gives them a good reason to respect me, and, being a D&D kid, monsters of all kinds are my specialty. They think my knowledge of their twisted ways comes from my own experiences, not careful observation of their ways.

So basically I outclass them in every way imaginable, even humility, which, taking this current statement into account, is quite incredible.

I am Robbery Joe, the Master Trickster.