Tag Archives: Andrew Breitbart

Everywhere I Go

1 Reply

It’s an odd world in which we live these days, one in which actions speak volumes while volumes are being spoken that collectively, to paraphrase Shakespeare, are a tale spoken by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Fans of Cephas Hour are rejoicing that the Call, with the late and deeply lamented Michael Been’s son Robert Levon Been taking his place, are playing a handful of shows next month. Not quite the worldwide headlines that accompany every time Jason Bonham fills in for his late father at a Led Zeppelin show, but significant nonetheless. The younger Been is a talented artist; his powerhouse rock combo Black Rebel Motorcycle Club has a strong and steady following. With BRMC’s new record coming out in a couple of weeks it is doubtful Been’s collaboration with his father’s bandmates will be extended much past the two presently scheduled dates; his band starts its tour promoting its new record the following week. Still, for those of us fortunate enough to be able to attend one of the two shows, it will be a welcome respite from today’s dreary music scene.

As mentioned before there is a family vibe among fans of classic Christian alt rock. We cherish the music, the artists and each other as together we celebrate not just what was, but what is and what will be. When you know the present moment is not all there is and you know the past is a signpost pointing toward a shared future of life and love in which all the suffering of this life will be washed away, you see things differently. The trivial fades before the triumph of the cross and the empty grave.

It’s not that nothing else matters. An awareness of Christ clarifies world vision. It adds impetus toward taking action and speaking out on issues of the day, mindful of how they impact lives far beyond the surface. Even as faith permeates all aspects of a believer’s life, Jesus is present in all aspects of life period, be it as creator, healer, savior or admonisher that we should never abuse His creation through sin. And all are His creation, despite the efforts of many to behave in a manner anything but reflective of this truth.

One of the, if not the, most offensive of all offenses against Christ is when an individual portrays himself or herself as His humble servant when his or her actions state loudly this is not the case. The person who lambastes others for their misdeeds while either deliberately downplaying (translation: lying about) their own or denying them altogether, declaring he or she to be a purveyor of good while doing harm to the very cause and/or people allegedly being supported, must be called out and called to account. Life is both short and precious. There is no time for the trivial pursuing vainglorious nonsense.

In this light, recent activities by assorted and in some cases sordid-behaving conservative new media members warrant mention. I would much rather talk about the things of Christ. However, these people claim to both know Him and uplift Him even as their actions dishonor Him. To state this is not judging others. It is a matter of declaring the truth. Which, as I recall, was what Jesus did regardless of who took it in what fashion. Jesus is an extraordinarily equal opportunity individual. He smacks everyone, every single one of us, across the face with the truth.

A couple of days ago it came to light that Joshua Trevino, who’s done assorted writing for and performed various job services for conservative publications and politicians, was part of a contingent that over a recent three year period received close to $400,000 from the Malaysian government. In return, Trevino wrote, as well as placed from others, posts plus columns and articles in several publications promoting said government’s policies, especially its campaign against one Anwar Ibrahim (proper name Anwar). Anwar is a flawed individual to say the least, feet firmly planted on both sides of the fence over issues such as Israel versus Palestine. Generally, however, he is viewed as a pro-liberty, anti-corruption politician. He also supports to a degree gay rights, thus ensuring he is most unlikely to receive a speaking invitation to CPAC anytime soon. But I digress.

Trevino and his current employer Chuck Devore, for whom Trevino served as communications manager during his failed campaign to win the California GOP nomination to face Barbara Boxer for her Senate seat in 2010, have both dismissed the matter as no big deal and common practice stuff. This assertion unravels when considering that Trevino failed to make mention of this deal until now and had in the past vehemently denied its existence. I’m no legal expert, but I believe this falls into the category commonly referred to as “lying.”

Okay, so we’ve established Trevino is dishonest money-grubbing scum. No other description for a paid shill insisting he or she isn’t one comes to mind. However, the reaction by others to Trevino’s now-disclosed activities would be laughable if they were not deeply lamentable as they go off on him for his actions while in their next breath talking up events such as CPAC and BlogBash.

Circle back to earlier and the discussion about the Christian classic alt rock family. It has been preached loud and long that conservative new media is a family, or at least ought to be; an army of Davids speaking truth to power and fighting against the liberal mainstream media. Brothers and sisters in arms, one and all. Sounds great, does it not?

As also mentioned earlier, sound and fury.

One has to but glance at the upcoming CPAC charade to see there is not only zero unity in conservative new media, it is increasingly intent on clawing itself to death. You have the nonsense of BlogBash, an event run by Ali Akbar with financial support from front organizations run by individuals who have received financial aid from Akbar’s allegedly non-profit fundraising efforts. This is more commonly known as kickbacks. Meanwhile, in a world allegedly home to the conservative new media family you have a party, thrown by an organization (National Bloggers Club) that has completely abandoned its original stated objective to create an umbrella under which individual bloggers could be better equipped for acceptance as legitimate media for news events, billing itself as the most exclusive event at CPAC. Actually, given its rejection of GOProud and Pamela Geller CPAC itself is the most exclusive event at CPAC. But again I digress.

The hypocrisy grows in light of the aforementioned exclusions, which have generated tremendous heat but precious little action in terms of people refusing to support CPAC and/or its organizer the American Conservative Union, better known as ACU. The party goes on unabated, with many paying lip service to the notion they are going to CPAC regardless of the ACU as a means of building networks and the like. Really? That is steer manure in a seeping sack. They are going to see and be seen, perhaps playing the role of heroic rebel telling people off even as they reinforce their position within a phantom kingdom’s hierarchy.

There is a belief among these people that they are individually and collectively creating a new media empire. The reality is they have constructed an echo chamber, sealed off from those who so little as wish to become participants within its walls let alone the outside world, in which they scramble for a higher place at the banquet table, alternating between boot-licking and face-punching each other in an effort to get ahead. All the while, they remain unshakable in their delusion, labeled as belief, they are changing the world despite the inconvenient truth of the world neither knowing nor caring they exist. But don’t let that stop the party or handing out awards to each other. Their patron saint is Little Jack Horner.

The question begs asking as to who is truly effective in communicating the conservative message. Answer? Those with an audience outside the echo chamber. Translation: those who catch the most flak from wannabes. For example, taking potshots at Rush Limbaugh has become fashionable among the impatient young insistent they deserve the audience he has built even as he continues to outdraw them all combined. Indeed, we see many instances of organizations and individuals known and unknown, usually the latter, demanding those who are better known (at whatever level this might be) give them full and immediate access to their audience, followed by public temper tantrums when this is not instantly granted. I know I have at times played this “victim” card. There is neither honor nor correctness in having done so, and it is hardly to my credit this has taken place. All I can do is resolve to not do it again, instead of doing things the proper way. Others can, and will, do as they wish.

Who is genuinely creating a media force to counteract what we currently endure? Breitbart was on the path of doing so, but tragically died before his vision could be implemented. The only person moving the needle toward genuine media integration right now is Glenn Beck. I chuckled when I read how FreedomWorks is working with Glenn Beck’s media organization the Blaze to run the next BlogCon, scheduled for this May in Dallas. It takes no gift of prophecy to state that between now and then you will see a host of conservative bloggers who have previously kept Beck at arms length, if not openly derided him, having a sudden epiphany about how he is in fact the great and good leader we should all follow and uplift. This after months, going on years, of having either completely ignored Beck or ripped on him over accusations of routinely using the works of others without crediting the original source and the fact he and Breitbart were at loggerheads over same. So much for the #IAmBreitbart battle cry.

It all winds back to family and faith. Does family segregate itself from one another in order to declare who actually belongs, in the process of doing so puffing itself up over non-existent accomplishments? Does faith lead one such as Trevino, who has proclaimed loud and long his Catholicism-rooted devotion to God, to surreptitiously accept payment for promoting a foreign government that is no friend of freedom? Do we continue to kid ourselves that how we conduct ourselves is unimportant as long as we’re doing what we believe is vital work when in fact we evangelize no one but each other? Are these the ways of family and faith? Are these the ways of Christ? Is this the path of peace?

No.

There is a better way.

It is summarized in one word: honesty. Honesty about who and what we are, told to ourselves as well as each other. Honesty when we mess up. Honesty when we need to humble ourselves before those we have wronged. Honesty about our beliefs, whatever they may be. As to the latter, to those whose who insist separation of faith and politics is a must in order to gain an audience, or at the very least making little if any mention of faith when discussing politics so as to not overly antagonize and exclude potential listeners might I point out that being open about what they believe never crimped U2′s record sales. Or, for that matter, made the Call pariahs.

Everywhere I go I see God’s handiwork. It is regrettable when people in word and especially deed exclude and dishonor Him from so much that truly matters, in the process minimizing their potential impact to nothing.

On This Sad Anniversary, A Few Words for Andrew Breitbart

3 Replies

Andrew Breitbart passed away one year ago today. Rather than write yet another tribute on a day filled with them, I offer a reprise of a post originally written and published last September.

I never met Andrew Breitbart; never conversed with him online. Had we done so, and had I been able to introduce him to my work I’d like to think he would have enjoyed at least some of my self-transcribed musings. I know he would have loved the ’80s Christian alternative rock I champion for the music alone if nothing else. But it never happened.

Since Breitbart’s passing in March of this year, the incessant fighting over who best represents his legacy has raged loud and long. Are the people who directly worked with him the sole proper heirs? Do they warrant special prestige or privilege for their association? Is there validity for those who emboss #IAmAndrewBreitbart on their tweets? Just who does he belong to, anyway?

Today I answered that question for myself.

Up in the hills overlooking Los Angeles from the west, amid assorted corporation headquarters and housing developments sits Hillside Memorial Park and Mortuary. For seventy years it has served the Jewish community in Los Angeles, its grounds filled with entertainment and business giants now resting amid those known but to their families, if any are left. Its relative newness precludes any ostentatious crypts; instead, simple bronze or marble markers lie in neat rows across the grass noting who is where. The manner of interment, along with death itself, is the great equalizer.

Los Angeles was sweating both a heat wave and a major freeway closing today, the local news yammering away nonstop over how the only gridlock Carmegeddon II was producing consisted of talking heads talking about it 24/7. Nothing out of the ordinary for LaLa land. Its media has little taste for anything save traffic reporting, celebrity gazing or the Lakers and Dodgers. Which, come to think of it, is one and the same. But enough of that.

The cemetery was busy on this Sunday afternoon. One burial was underway, and another was about to begin, the hearse and following cars slowly making their way up the long drive toward one of the place’s upper areas. I doubt anyone involved with either of the above noticed the lone figure in black t-shirt and blue jeans underneath a somewhat weatherbeaten brown leather Aussie hat going into the administration office near the front gates adorned with the Star of David.

The polite young woman behind the counter asked me to spell the last name I had inquired about. Understandable, given that my voice was still suffering the ill effects of a chest cold that had been hanging on for over a week. She wrote the name down on a map and circled the location about which I had inquired, graciously offering me a small bottled water before I left. It was greatly appreciated. I said thanks for it and the directions, then started trudging up the hill, doing my best to not disturb anyone.

The grounds at Hillside are divided into different named areas: Valley of Remembrance, Mount Sholom and the like. Near the top on the right is the Garden of Rachel, named after Jacob’s wife and Joseph’s mother. It sits in the shadow of the Court of the Matriarchs mausoleum. The Garden of Rachel was my destination, and after a few minutes I found what I was looking for.

Andrew Breitbart’s grave has not yet received its permanent marker. Instead, there is a piece of paper with his name and location, all underneath a piece of plexiglass keeping it intact as long as it is needed. The ground and grass have long recovered from being disturbed on that day in March when he was laid to rest. Indeed, were it not for the paper and plexiglass there would be no indication whatsoever this was a burial site, not a plot awaiting its eventual occupant. On the face of things it was sad and lonely; a burial place unfit for a lion whose roar was new media’s rallying cry.

And yet, this modest final resting place was far more fitting than first impression might indicate.

It isn’t an elaborate crypt accessible to only the chosen few, one by dint of its size and ornate nature laying hold of the assertion that even in death this was someone with whom to reckon. There is no list of accomplishments, no boasts about what had been achieved in life. No arguments over who had rightful claim for honoring his legacy or how it should be honored. None of that. Instead, there was a grave and a reminder that here lies a man who now belongs to God alone.

I couldn’t stay long; the nearby burial service was ending and I wished to be gone before they passed by. I bent down on one knee, my hand touching the location marker as I said a very Catholic prayer in a Jewish cemetery, asking God to take Andrew James Breitbart into His eternal rest and favor. I didn’t cross myself so as to not offend anyone who might have happened to look my way, but inside I did. I then stood up and quietly walked away.

As I said, I’ve answered the question for myself.

Andrew Breitbart belongs to God now.

He couldn’t be in better hands.

Trampled Underfoot

1 Reply

The Dana Loesch vs. Breitbart.com dustup is of little genuine interest to anyone outside the Twitterati and those who live for such things. There is some amusement found in watching people choose sides; it is well nigh impossible to see such without believing the primary motive is figuring out which kissed ass will prove the most beneficial for positioning in the phonebooth kingdom that is conservative new media. For everyone else, it’s as compelling a story as the aforementioned new media is influential in shaping public opinion. Which, if you noticed the election results last month, is not at all.

This duly noted, the story serves to illustrate a deeper issue that normally resides beneath the surface but has now forcibly risen above ground. Namely, the deep fractures that occur in any movement or cause when personality cults transcend substance.

The words of Paul when he was chewing out the church in Corinth come to mind:

Brothers and sisters, I could not address you as people who live by the Spirit but as people who are still worldly—mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready. You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere humans? For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” are you not mere human beings?

What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe—as the Lord has assigned to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.

We’re not seeing much of this mindset, now are we?

Granted, it is an extremely difficult balancing act for any messenger to simultaneously promote their message and his- or herself in order to promote the message without making his- or herself, not the message, the center of attention. A modest messenger is a rare commodity, albeit not an impossibility. Unfortunately, these days very, very few so much as make an effort to be modest. Instead, they choose to be the political equivalent of an entertainer going out of their way to be sexually provocative and artificially, calculatingly controversial. This is done for the sake of attempting to disguise a lack of genuine talent and/or commitment to the cause of which they screech. As compared to speaking in favor thereof.

There is a huge difference between being a lightning rod and devoting efforts toward being vapid thunder. The lightning rod does, while thunder says. Andrew Breitbart was a lightning rod. He created or co-created media powerhouses such as Drudge and Huffington. He broke stories — Pigford, Anthony Weiner — and let the chips fall where they may. Breitbart was larger than life not because he acted like it. Rather, he was larger than life because his accomplishments organically lifted him to that status. He used this to his advantage, as well he should have.

Unfortunately, with very few exceptions those he chose to assist him have, since his painfully early passing, fallen far short of his standards. They do not create; they only recreate, churning out endless variations of the same tired media bashing with occasional sprinkles of ersatz edginess. Andrew Breitbart was a force of nature. They are children blowing on a pinwheel.

Loesch and Breitbart.com are, to paraphrase a band description I once read in a rock’n'roll encyclopedia, significantless cul-de-sacs off of the very road of media and popular culture they set out to resurface. Some on the right may worry that their legal battle might somehow besmirch the political philosophy for which they so loudly claim to be standard bearers. The fact is they trampled underfoot the standard in favor of ego strokes long ago. The lawsuit merely confirms their vanity.

hillside

A Few Words For Andrew Breitbart

8 Replies

I never met Andrew Breitbart; never conversed with him online. Had we done so, and had I been able to introduce him to my work I’d like to think he would have enjoyed at least some of my self-transcribed musings. I know he would have loved the ’80s Christian alternative rock I champion for the music alone if nothing else. But it never happened.

Since Breitbart’s passing in March of this year, the incessant fighting over who best represents his legacy has raged loud and long. Are the people who directly worked with him the sole proper heirs? Do they warrant special prestige or privilege for their association? Is there validity for those who emboss #IAmAndrewBreitbart on their tweets? Just who does he belong to, anyway?

Today I answered that question for myself.

Up in the hills overlooking Los Angeles from the west, amid assorted corporation headquarters and housing developments sits Hillside Memorial Park and Mortuary. For seventy years it has served the Jewish community in Los Angeles, its grounds filled with entertainment and business giants now resting amid those known but to their families, if any are left. Its relative newness precludes any ostentatious crypts; instead, simple bronze or marble markers lie in neat rows across the grass noting who is where. The manner of interment, along with death itself, is the great equalizer.

Los Angeles was sweating both a heat wave and a major freeway closing today, the local news yammering away nonstop over how the only gridlock Carmegeddon II was producing consisted of talking heads talking about it 24/7. Nothing out of the ordinary for LaLa land. Its media has little taste for anything save traffic reporting, celebrity gazing or the Lakers and Dodgers. Which, come to think of it, is one and the same. But enough of that.

The cemetery was busy on this Sunday afternoon. One burial was underway, and another was about to begin, the hearse and following cars slowly making their way up the long drive toward one of the place’s upper areas. I doubt anyone involved with either of the above noticed the lone figure in black t-shirt and blue jeans underneath a somewhat weatherbeaten brown leather Aussie hat going into the administration office near the front gates adorned with the Star of David.

The polite young woman behind the counter asked me to spell the last name I had inquired about. Understandable, given that my voice was still suffering the ill effects of a chest cold that had been hanging on for over a week. She wrote the name down on a map and circled the location about which I had inquired, graciously offering me a small bottled water before I left. It was greatly appreciated. I said thanks for it and the directions, then started trudging up the hill, doing my best to not disturb anyone.

The grounds at Hillside are divided into different named areas: Valley of Remembrance, Mount Sholom and the like. Near the top on the right is the Garden of Rachel, named after Jacob’s wife and Joseph’s mother. It sits in the shadow of the Court of the Matriarchs mausoleum. The Garden of Rachel was my destination, and after a few minutes I found what I was looking for.

Andrew Breitbart’s grave has not yet received its permanent marker. Instead, there is a piece of paper with his name and location, all underneath a piece of plexiglass keeping it intact as long as it is needed. The ground and grass have long recovered from being disturbed on that day in March when he was laid to rest. Indeed, were it not for the paper and plexiglass there would be no indication whatsoever this was a burial site, not a plot awaiting its eventual occupant. On the face of things it was sad and lonely; a burial place unfit for a lion whose roar was new media’s rallying cry.

And yet, this modest final resting place was far more fitting than first impression might indicate.

It isn’t an elaborate crypt accessible to only the chosen few, one by dint of its size and ornate nature laying hold of the assertion that even in death this was someone with whom to reckon. There is no list of accomplishments, no boasts about what had been achieved in life. No arguments over who had rightful claim for honoring his legacy or how it should be honored. None of that. Instead, there was a grave and a reminder that here lies a man who now belongs to God alone.

I couldn’t stay long; the nearby burial service was ending and I wished to be gone before they passed by. I bent down on one knee, my hand touching the location marker as I said a very Catholic prayer in a Jewish cemetery, asking God to take Andrew James Breitbart into His eternal rest and favor. I didn’t cross myself so as to not offend anyone who might have happened to look my way, but inside I did. I then stood up and quietly walked away.

As I said, I’ve answered the question for myself.

Andrew Breitbart belongs to God now.

He couldn’t be in better hands.

dale_earnhardt_jr_andrew_breitbart

Of Dale Earnhardt Jr. and Andrew Breitbart

4 Replies

This is a “saying that in order to say this” post, so please bear with.

This weekend, NASCAR will be at Daytona International Speedway, home of the Daytona 500. One of the favorites in tonight’s race is Dale Earnhardt Jr., easily NASCAR’s most popular driver and son of the late Dale Earnhardt, one of the sport’s most iconic figures.

Earnhardt died in an accident on the last lap of the 2001 Daytona 500. When this happened, many of his devoted fans turned all their attention to his son, who although having had a solid career thus far has not matched his father’s accomplishment of winning seven championships. He’s often been in contention for one, as is the case this year, but has yet the cross that final hurdle. Nevertheless, his fans remain loyal. But I digress; back to 2001.

Earnhardt’s death left many in the sport reeling. Even a non-NASCAR fan can appreciate the drama that July when the sport made its second Daytona visit of the season. Emotions were raw and running high, both among drivers, crew members, team owners and NASCAR officials as well as the fan base.

As it turns out, Earnhardt Jr. did something quite remarkable. At the same place where his father lost his life five months previously, Earnhardt Jr. won the race. It was a script no Hollywood writer would dare touch. Yet there it was.

One of the memories from that evening was perhaps the most inane post-race interview question ever uttered. The reporter, whose name slips my mind, asked Earnhardt Jr. right after he had pulled into Victory Lane, “Do you think you’re going to cry tonight?” To his credit, Earnhardt Jr. didn’t deck the guy, instead deflecting as best he could.

The point was, as Earnhardt Jr. mentioned more than once in the following months, while meaning no disrespect to his father Earnhardt Jr. was his own man. He wished to be judged on who he was and how he drove, not his last name. Nor did he wish to constantly have his father brought up in conversation or interviews. While he fully understood how the public lionized him, Earnhardt Jr. knew him in a way the public never could. He knew him as he was. He knew him as his father. He wished to privately grieve and work through things in his own manner without constantly having the grief of others shoved in his face. Earnhardt Jr.’s message was simple and clear: you do what you feel you have to do. But leave me out of it. I loved my father. But I’m not riding on the coattails of a dead man.

Fast forward to the present day. Since Andrew Breitbart’s tragic passing earlier this year, we’ve been subjected to an endless stream of tributes, “I am…” and most overwhelmingly those who were in any manner associated with him in life flying his name like battle colors under which apparently their every action, regardless of its individual unique merits, is to be lauded. Why? Because… because… BREITBART!

I bring news.

You’re not him and neither am I.

First, do we truly honor Breitbart’s memory by daily trotting out public mourning? Is it genuine sorrow or an excuse for combining the mutual admiration society with a self-pity party? Are we declaring we miss him and his mighty works, or are we attempting to wear his battle-earned glory as our own accomplishment while feeling sorry for ourselves?

Stop and think. How does this affect those who knew and loved him the most – his wife and children; his other family members? They are the ones who have suffered, and continue to suffer, the most. Not you and I. They are the ones who daily wake up with a hole in their hearts no amount of political journalism or activism can fill. You don’t replace a husband, a father, a son with rhetoric. You can’t. Nor can you replace another’s husband, another’s father, another’s son with constant caterwauling set to the tune of “Poor, Poor Pitiful Me.” You think you’re hurting? Consider them. Then get back to me on your incurable wound.

Second, association with Breitbart in life is neither a perpetual get out of jail card nor carte blanche for any and all action one might take. The only area of life in which we do not rise or fall on our own merit is that part covered by God’s grace; our sins forgiven by Jesus’ sacrifice and shed blood on the cross. Everything else is on you and I. Self-righteous pseudofealty crumbles and falls before truth. Life is on us, not what someone else accomplished during their tenure on this planet.

How many people carrying on in Breitbart’s name genuinely do as he did? There are almost countless testimonies of how he would unfailingly stop and talk with the “little people.” He made time for no-names, providing them with genuine help. How many who were under his wing while he was with us will give someone so much as the time of day if they are of no immediate help to their career and/or not sufficiently deferential? Very few that I’ve encountered, and it’s correct to say I’ve encountered them all online.

Even as Dale Earnhardt Jr. said enough about his father, it’s time for all of us to say enough with the interminable memorial service and claiming Andrew Breitbart’s name validates our every move. It doesn’t. It’s all on us now. And right now we’re not doing a very good job.

The Battle Does Not End When A Single Soldier Falls

A few thoughts on the passing of Andrew Breitbart.

One can only pray that people follow the lead he set when he spoke at this year’s CPAC:

Sadly, so many, including some of his employees, seem bound and determined to tear apart the very unity he espoused. Perhaps now they will change their ways.

My sympathy and prayers go out to his family and friends.

As noted in the title, the battle does not end when a single soldier falls. We all need to embody his legacy by confronting the lies and deceit that surrounds us.

And, a reminder of what, or Who, is truly important when it comes time for looking up to someone:

When the house fell asleep
There was always a light
And it fell from the page to the eyes
Of an American boy

In a storybook land
I could dream what I read
When it went to my head I’d see
I wanna be a hero

But the practical side
Said the question was still
When you grow up what will you be?
I wanna be a hero

Hero
It’s a nice-boy notion that the real world’s gonna destroy
You know
It’s a Marvel comic book Saturday matinee fairytale, boy

Growing older you’ll find
That illusions are bought
And the idol you thought you’d be
Was just another zero

I wanna be a hero

Heroes died when the squealers bought ‘em off
Died when the dealers got ‘em off
Welcome to the “in it for the money as an idol” show

When they ain’t as big as life
When they ditch their second wife
Where’s the boy to go?

Gotta be a hero

Hero
It’s a nice-boy notion that the real world’s gonna destroy
You know
It’s a Marvel comic book Saturday matinee fairytale, boy

When the house fell asleep
From a book I was led
To a Light that I never knew
I wanna be your hero

And He spoke to my heart
From the moment I prayed
Here’s a pattern I made for you
I wanna be your hero

ADDENDUM: Thanks to That Mr. G Guy and Conservative Commune for the links.