The devil (trust me I'm a rock music journalist) has the best tunes, and villains have the best tailors. No lycra bodysuits; no capes unless they're long, black and swirling. Heroes just don't stand a chance. Take Dirty Harry. Had he been Nice Harry, would anyone have cared? What made his twisted heroics compelling, as he went about trying to save a city while he lost his soul, was their ambiguity.
It's okay, I'm not going to call him a hero. Hero is one of the most overused words in America.
Go on, I challenge you to watch any TV news show, or Oprah, or Oprahalike, and not hear hero mentioned at least one time. That and the word tragedy. Never have two great old words been so diminished. I saw an item where a young kid was called a hero for calling 911 when his mother collapsed in the kitchen and told the operator their address. Resourceful, possibly - though most children I've encountered can kick my butt when it comes to cell phone skills 0 but hardly heroic. (Nor was it a tragedy that his mum, who recovered, was taken ill.)
So we're going to just have to start calling heroes superheroes, just as models who get paid work get called supermodels. Not that I'm implying that heroism is done for money. Heroes/superheroes have all sorts of motivations and often none at all, but they are rarer than villains and to be cherished and esteemed.
Anyhow, superheroes: a short while ago I went to see Watchmen, a bold film based on a brilliant graphic novel about the anguish, corruption and existential misery of the superhero. They did not dress well. But one of its most memorable moments was a superhero sex scene, which played out to a soundtrack of Leonard Cohen singing Hallelujah. Cohen is old and sexy and wears a hat and suit as sharp as any villain's. He is one of my (non-super) heroes.