Everyday I open the page of some newspaper or news website to read the words of some journalistic website technician availing the tale of some “hero” or “heroic” act. Frequently these tales involve some neckless wonder, charging through a group of equally neckless men in an attempt to place an inflated piece of pig skin over line. Words such as “beyond all odds”, ” in a great act of courgae” and “Jimmy Kafoops hero to children everywhere”. Now while the actions of the steriod fuelled, lump of protein requires strength and determination, the concept of being a hero is rolled up and cast from the stadium roof by viewing the video of the post match interview. The world didn’t change, the starving weren’t fed, the homeless weren’t given shelter and as is demonstrated command of the English language certainly hasn’t been raised. . Nope this 120kg bipedal miniature bison was merely doing his job.
Frequently those with significant mustaches and elderly Japanese saloons in their driveway, spit their earl grey in excitement when talking about the heroism of the Dragoons, Lancers and Huasars looking fantastic in their splendid uniforms, ignoring their malaria and dysentery as they rode headlong into the withering Russian canon fire at Balaclava. Armed with nothing more than enlarged kitchen implements these fantastically dressed men rode across the rocky ground not because of heroism. They rode to their Byron glorified demise because someone cocked up the orders. Yep, that famous Charge of the Little Brigade was the military equivalent of sending an email to the wrong person. The highly polished horsemen had no idea what they were racing off into and boy were they surprised. Those that didn’t promptly get blown to pieces, aired a loud explanation of the birthright of their officers and promptly turned around and left.
My heros are a different breed. My heros are those that publicly and without apology try to change the world. I am not talking about some TED aired diatribe that takes one highly questionable scientific concept, adds a equal parts of bullshit, charts and showmanship, leaveing the unthinking audience gasping in the whole world saving significance of only eating roadkill. No, my heros are flawed. My heros generally are certain and arrogant. Sure in themselves of the correctness of their opinions and are not afraid to air it. No forum can escape from their pontificating opinion. They make you feel like an idiot and that all you hold true about their particular opinion is just broken. However they are frequently correct.
These people are annoying but they have passion and conviction, free from focus group and courageous in the face of “Today Tonight”. Contentious yes, annoying yes, heroic certainly. So next someone bangs on endlessly about a their pet topic and how they can save the world, don’t write them off because they froth a little when they speak. Take the time to listen because withstanding your judgement makes them my hero.
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You know the kind of week. The where you think that you couldn’t get busier, you couldn’t get more stressed and then that one extra thing gets asked of you. You sit in your pool of unfinished projects, empty pizza boxes and discarded purple jelly beans and wonder where the extra 12 hours a day will come from to complete your 7000 page list of unfinished projects. Thoughts of a world where things were simple and stress free seem a distant memory away as you guzzle your 37th cup of coffee for the day in a vain attempt to fuel your barely your functional brain to fire that one one last operating neuron to produce at least a mild attempt at resolving the Mount Everest of unfinished projects.
