What does it mean to be a hero?

For some, a hero is someone who is there when you need them, someone who can pick you up when you have fallen.

For others, a hero is someone you look up to. A person who, no matter how unaware of you they may be, is someone who you hold in high esteem, because of the deeds that they've performed for others.

And for others, a hero is somebody that you just picked out arbitrarily, higgeldy-piggeldy if you will, so that you can test out your abilities to import graphics and lay out a page.

Make no mistake; Doc Savage and Stevie "Killcreek" Case are two such people. Oh, I have a certain fondness for both of them--it's not as if these were two entirely random figures-- but for all intents and purposes, my calling them heroes is an act of egregious smart-assedness.

After all, Stevie Case's strongest talents still tend to be a sterling talent for self-promotion. How else to explain how the woman can go from beating John Romero in a game of Quake to ending up hailed on the cover of PC Gamer as a "Gamer God" in a few short years?

Doc Savage is certainly a heroic character--in over 180 adventures, Doc and his crew, in adventures written, for the most part, by his creator Lester Dent, triumphed over Nazis, fought dinosaurs, poisonous vapors, half-witted giants, guys dressed up as Werewolves, giant spiders, and many others that I'm ashamed not to remember seeing as I read so many of the damn things growing up. But let's face it; Doc Savage is a thoroughly fictional character. He never came within a country mile of existing. So it's somewhat sad and juvenile to refer to Doc as my "hero."

Shouldn't heroes be actual people? Someone whose accomplishments actually achieved something other than the financial betterment of publishers, peddlers and hacks? Hasn't the canonization of fictional characters led inevitably to our current culture of lazy celebrity worship, and the slothful idolation of money-making shills and flash-in-the-pan cult figures?

Such a culture makes it easy to actually consider Stevie Case a "hero." After all, she's a rarity in the world of computer games; a prominent, intelligent female gamer who isn't afraid to seem both intelligent and sexual.

On the other hand, what, really, is there to celebrate about a woman who has drawn attention by being both intelligent and substantially naked? Arguably, Stevie Case has significantly injured the cause of women in computer gaming, being that not only did she get her position in at least some small part because she slept with John Romero, but also in that as soon as she got the slightest attention and notoreity, she dashed out and got breast implants of uncomfortably large size. Although "Killcreek" is to be applauded for not hacking her aquiline nose down to what the status quo would consider "normal," Ms. Case seems to believe that unless she looks like Lara Croft nobody in the gaming industry--or, perhaps more importantly, outside it--will pay any attention to her. And while the canny observer of this page will notice that I do not have a picture of Ms. Case doing her taxes, compiling her levels, or putting the final touches on her MENSA application, I am nonetheless aware that "Killcreek," by getting ten times the press an actual female game designer (Roberta Williams) has received in her whole ten year-plus career, will affect how our culture at large will perceive women in the gaming industry.

On the other hand, the fact that Stevie Case has presumedly had sex--repeatedly--with John Romero, she is deserving of, if not respect, a certain cautious deference.