I love Batman because the message is that if you overcompensate enough, you can overcome the pain of the past.
Example from real life:
When I was growing up, I’d always heard of “the ice cream man,” but no trucks ever visited our neighborhood. We first actually got ice cream from one of those trucks when visiting my grandparents in Gilroy. There was a park on 2nd where kids would play, 2 short blocks from grandma and grandpa’s house. The ice cream would occasionally drop in, and we could hear the music from his truck from the house. We’d get a bit of money from my grandparents (or my parents if they were feeling especially charitable) and run to get ice cream. I usually got a fudgecicle. Don’t tell me you can just buy those in the store; it’s just not the same.
Back at home, we lived about half a mile from two different parks, so every so often I’d hear the music from the truck. Faintly I could hear the strains when playing in the backyard, but by the time we ran in the house, asked for money, jumped on bikes, and biked there, the truck was nowhere to be found. To this day I don’t know if we guessed the wrong direction, or we just weren’t fast enough.
Eventually we just gave up. The ice cream man music became a taunt. I felt bitter every time I heard his siren call. Very bitter.
So now I live in a relatively dense suburb of Oakland. Several ice cream trucks have us directly on their route; but I am taking no chances. I’ll be sitting at home or in the backyard, reading comics or surfing. Suddenly I perk up – the sound, the sound!! I’ll run into the house, grab my wallet, and throw on sunglasses and driving gloves. I jump in my black sportscar and floor it, tearing around the streets.
I search for the truck with a feverish intensity. Every few intersections I silence the motor and listen intently with the windows rolled down, triangulating on the sound of the ice cream man. The streets are laid out like sort of a maze, so it takes them a while to get out. Once I’ve figured out what street the truck is on, I gun it to intercept. A couple of times I have stopped my car directly in front of the truck so he cannot escape. I jump out of the car brandishing a wad of cash and demand an ice cream sandwich from the petrified driver. Sometimes Diane goes with me; bonus points if we are both wearing all black.
Overcompensation. I has it.
But I’d still follow Superman. He is the only one you can trust.