By: Sylvia Davila MM
Bogotá
Copyright - 2010
My childhood was surrounded by beings that were not any beings. They were super heroes. Yes, the generation that grew up with the unbreakable calmness of Mr. Spoke, the intuitive keen Sherlock Holmes, the struggle for justice of Clark, without glasses Superman, the smile of Alice’s cat, and the not shaken martini of Bond, James Bond, must be in shock. You can hardly recognize them.
Holmes never changed his coat, it’s true, but the
unique act of force he performed was crashing the head of a match against the
box to light the pipe. A keen ability for deduction solved all his cases helped
by his dear Watson. Today, a dirty drunken Holmes deals with his cases armed
with all kind of weapons and destroys an entire area of London at the dawn of
the film. Unrecognizable.
Superman, the man of steel that bears knowledge from
other worlds and fights for justice. They took away what makes him super, the
powers, to receive a street beating. Unrecognizable.
Bond had licence to kill to save the world from evil.
We hopefully waited for Penny Lenny to have a chance with him, Q delighted us
with the last technology, and M gave the picture of the challenge. Today, Bond
kills a guy in a hotel room before a word is heard in the film. Unrecognizable.
Most surprising, Mr. Spoke and Alicia. Difficult to
understand what dark confusion may take someone to put the Vulcan by excellence
to punch Captain Kirk. Should Mr. Spoke watch this new version of himself, he
would raise an eyebrow before saying: illogical.
The last surprise is sweet Alice her blue dress and
her book transformed in a modern Joan of Arc, armature and sword!
Unrecognizable.
Yes, I must be old. But I cannot help shedding a tear
for my amorous superheroes converted in armed superheroes. A worry captures my
mind: What superheroes do our children have?
SYLVIA DAVILA MORALES ®
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