Confessions: Some People Are Deeply Disturbed

I am thoroughly freaked out.

There, I said it. I knew it was possible, figured it was only a matter of time, and I’ve finally seen it with my own eyes.

There are some deeply disturbed individuals out there, and I’m not talking about fans of the Beasty Boys or Celine Dion. Though that is a deep kind of disturbed on its own.

I’m talking about people that cross the reality barrier. People who can’t tell the difference between Batman and Christian Bale. People that have lost all grasp on the fact that an inanimate object does not make for a loving life partner.

That kind of deeply disturbed.

So the other day, not at band camp, I’m doing some legitimate research for a project and I come across this weird hit from Google. I’m intrigued, so I click.

Now, before I go on, I have to admit I am so totally freaked out I’m not going to give enough information for you to even find this person, so please forgive my vagueness. This chick would make National Geographic’s show “Taboo” look tame.

Let’s just say, for the sake of argument, there is this fictional comic book character that’s been around in comics, cartoons and what not for a while. And the character is male (or more accurately has a male voice and is referred to as “he” because the character is in fact not human or even animal, and thus has no sex, pun intended).

Now, imagine a woman seeing this completely fictional character and deciding he was made for her. Imagine her leaving her husband and staging a wedding to this character (who incidentally didn’t show up for said event, mainly because he doesn’t exist). She publishes photos of her in her dress, posts all over fan websites about how she is his wife, and then presumes to command fans of the character around, claiming to know more than they do since she is in fact married to the character.

Did I mention she had her last name legally changed to the character’s?

Now, I admit I should have stopped reading at this point, but it was like a really bad train wreck. I couldn’t look away no matter how hard I tried. I peered through my fingers as I held my hands over my eyes, and did what any good voyeur would do.

I read on.

Seems delusions were not enough for this mistress of the loony bin. You see, she’d claimed to have married a comic book character. There are some pretty strong fans of comic books. These fan bases have forums, Facebook pages, ComicCon for God’s sake.

They noticed.

Sadly, they also gave her a forum for her delusions because, being repulsed, they engaged her in dialog. Big mistake.

Psycho chick possibly was losing grip on her fantasy so she bumped it up a step.

She published pornographic fan fiction about her “husband,” and even had herself some fun with Photoshop to provide some visual x-rated support to her stories (using real photos of her and some, er, doctored shots of the character).

I can’t tell you much more because at this point I was screaming for the brain bleach. I’d never look at this character the same again. Defiled doesn’t begin to describe it.

I don’t know why it bothered me so deeply. Probably because I’ve found myself wishing from time to time that a fantasy world I’ve enjoyed so much in a book or movie was real.

One thing is certain. There are some really wacked individuals out there.

I actually found myself worrying about the people who created and support this character (artists, computer renderers, voice actors in the cartoon, toy manufacturers, etc.).

Then I started worrying about those famous people who I do care about, like that demigod Hugh Jackman. What if someone decided she was married to Wolverine and went after him that way? Oh the horror, to defile such a perfect image of ultimate manhood in such a way. I’d have to destroy my computer and have my memory erased.

I closed my internet browser at that point and banned myself from watching my kids’ copy of Cars. What if I suddenly looked into Lightening McQueen’s eyes to discover we were in fact made for each other, decided to leave my husband, and married that hunk of burning rubber?

Lucky I found information on that deranged woman. I should thank her. I almost became Jen McQueen!

Tagged as: Confessions