So what's wrong with superheroes, anyway?

I find myself asking this question over and over again. In fact, much of my own work is a sort of apologetics for the genre. On some days I think there's no defense of them. They are silly concepts hung on two dimensional characters representing dated, and even right wing, ideals. They seem fine as light entertainment, and well suited to entertain children, until you consider the harm they might do.
My sculpture professor just cautioned the class to be wary of nostalgia. Nostalgia doesn't change us, doesn't transform us. Any experience that's going to have an impact on us must involve risk, either on the part of the artist or the audience or both. Most of our affection for superheros is based on nostalgia. Most of the comic publishing industry is designed to cultivate and capitalize on that nostalgia.
Given that, why do I feel the need to create superheroes, and the need to prove their validity as a genre? The obvious answer is the symbolic content. I truly believe that the superhero is a mythic figure, in the same way that Achilles, Beowulf, or Gilgamesh are mythic figures. We are dealing with larger than life characters doing larger than life deeds, risking death for an ideal. I believe the human psyche needs these kinds of stories, as examples, as teaching tools, as a process of self examination.
But mostly I think they are cool. Superheroes are neat! They are incarnations of the imagination itself. You can do anything in a superhero story and make it seem plausible. Once you posit that someone can fly or run faster than a bullet, all bets are off. You just suspended verisimilitude somewhere in the stratosphere.
It at this point in the process that a line is crossed and things become interesting. I often find myself wondering if I am talking about the same thing every one else is when they say "superhero". Do they include Donnie Darko, Flex Mentallo, Shade the Changing Man, Promethea, Grendel, The Matrix, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, or King Fu Hustle in their estimation of the genre?
Really, the thing that make "superheroes" so cool is the amazing feats, the fantastic way they can warp reality. They enter our dreams and imagination and make the fantastic manifest. And they are in truth the geeks we are (Peter Parker, Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne-come on, he's a book loving tech nerd, Reed Richards) and the romantic leads we wish we were (Tony Stark, Hal Jordan, Bruce Wayne).
Should we abandon the superhero for the richer, greener pastures? Sure. We should.
But we're not going to.