Abel Hornsley

We love superheroes. We hate supervillains.

Or do we?

Look at E! Entertainment Television's recent puff piece on the most common superhero-related search terms and we find something interesting. Numbers one through six are, predictably, super-babes. No way to tell exactly how many of those were image searches. Seventh on the list is the hero team calling themselves Michael & Collins; the college kid and his superpower-laden pooch. People are suckers for a dog.

Number Eight: Abel Hornsley. Don't recognize that name? It's the given name of the first hero to go by the moniker Jager, German for Hunter. Turns out, Hornsley would find more fame under his birth name as a super-powered serial killer. We, as a culture, prefer our serial killers with three names so, we've given him the popular designation, Abe Jager Hornsley. Look more familiar?

Hornsley's reign of terror went on for the better part of two years. His ability to hunt people by scent made him incredibly effective. His ability to drain the life energy of others through fear made him deadly.

Why did he do it? That is, perhaps, an unanswerable question. Abel Hornsley invented, in my humble opinion, the most fascinating legal defense in  the history of law. While it hasn't been awarded a fancy handle, like The Twinkie Defense, I'm quite sure it will, given the increasing call for superhuman justice.

Abel Hornsley told the press, the judges, the prosecuting attorney, his own defense attorney and even, according to one newspaper report, his own sister that he had to consume the seventeen women he stalked and killed because he, "needed what they had to keep living." He went on to say, hangdog look fixed on the jury while he took the stand in his own defense, "You'll never know what it's like to be me, to have this hunger inside that won't go away unless you feed it. If I wouldn't have done what I did, I would have died. I would have starved to death."

Hornsley continues with a long, rambling speech wrapping up with haunting, some say touching, series of questions: "What would you do in my place? Choose to die so some stranger can live? What would you do?"

Is it Abel Hornsley's situation that fascinates us, or is it his final question? Do we hate Abel Hornsley? The answer is yes, we do, but only in the way that we hate all other supervillains with enough moxie to capture our imaginations; we love to hate them. They give our favorite superheroes meaning beyond the reality tv shows, product endorsements and mandatory public service. Without them, the media circus that plagues our televisions would be all clowns and no lion tamers. They're the essential element. They give this game teeth.

Am I saying we should be thankful for them? Yes. I think I am; speaking from the perspective of a generation who grew up watching a war being fought in the Middle East on television every night on television. We have superheros to save us from every conceivable tragedy, from terrorists to tsunamis. It's the supervillains that save us from boredom.

-Cheers,

B.H.