Super John Doe.

It is quite saddening to think of those people who have been
mistreated by history. There were the poètes maudits, like Edgar Allan
Poe or Arthur Rimbaud, scorned by society and latter worshipped and
force-fed to school to schoolchildren (There are even schools named
after high school dropouts.) Alas, this recognition came a little too
late for the poet to get a serotonin kick out of it, or to prop up his
romantic life on earth. But there are even more mistreated heroes-the
very sad category of those who we do not know were heroes, who saved
our lives, who helped to avoid disasters. They left no traces and did
not even know that they were making a contribution. We remember the
martyrs who died for a cause that we knew about, never those no less
efective in their contribution but whose cause we were never aware
of-precisely because they were successful. Our ingratitude toward the
poète maudits fades completely in front of this other type of
thanklessness. This is a far more vicious kind of ingratitude: the
feeling of uselessness on the part of the silent hero.