The image that attracted you to this post was the DC comic book cover announcing the death of Superman, the Man of Steel at the hands of Doomsday. While the battle with the other-wordly monster took issue upon issue to unfold the death was was no less dramatic. This was a very public, albeit fictional, instance of  "hero-cide", the intentional and premediated murder, at either the indivudual or societal level-of a hero.

As you must know by now, our latest sacrifical offering is Tiger Woods. Actually, I am not as interested in, nor do I feel compelled to explore my feelings about Tiger's titillating transgressions. I will leave those for the machinations of popular media.

What I am fascinated by is our seeming love-hate relationship with heroes; those larger-than-life mortals who push the envelope beyond comprehensible limits. Countless famed (and fallen) athletes, politicians, religious and artistic figures are among the heralded ilk. Hero worship dates back to antiquity, from the moment that the ancients looked above and beyond themselves to someone who promised, or at least appeared to promise something they did not have and wanted...power, strength, wisdom, sexual or athletic prowess, immortality or a direct line to the heavens. Across both time and culture, there are countless examples of Apotheosis- the elevation of a mortal to divine status. Theologically, these figures are 'saints' and 'gods'; politically, they are the rulers and conquerors; physically, they are the world class athlete; and in the contemporary popular culture, they are the iconic singers, designers, architects, athletes and the like, who always seem to one step away from (very) public execution.  They do great things, or die (or are killed) trying.