Acharya Prashant states that we seem to have romantic fantasies even in spirituality, having been fed a lot of spiritual notions. We carry images of how a truly spiritual person is like: steady, firm, unwavering, unshaken, and doing the right thing without the least trace of discomposure. He calls this a fantastic, heroic, and even super-heroic image, which is very juvenile. He compares this to superhero movies where the hero is able to conquer everybody without getting even the slightest bruise, and all the bad guys of the world, armed with powerful weapons, are standing against the superhero and are blown away. The speaker explains that we have subconsciously extrapolated the same story to the spiritual domain. In this parallel scene, the realized master is the superhero, and standing in front of him are all the 'bad chaps': lust, anger, intoxication, attachment, greed, illusion, pride, jealousy, and fear. They are carrying all the destructive weapons possible, such as property, sex, allurements, and prestige, which are the nuclear weapons to destroy you internally. The fantasy is that the spiritual master, without so much as blinking an eye, just blows them away and commands them to disappear by the power of the Lord. The speaker calls this 'pop spirituality' with 'popcorn', fed to us by 'mom and pop'. Acharya Prashant argues that we have destroyed all the saints, masters, and heroes who loved and fought for us by turning them into caricatures. We have created images of their infallibility, portraying them as supermen. By doing this, we ensure that no trace of their fallibility is left. We distort history to represent them as superhuman. For example, Jesus cannot be shown to be afraid, and Buddha cannot be shown to be attached. If Shri Krishna or Shri Ram are shown to have human fallibilities, there is a large hue and cry. People question how Shri Ram could be so vulnerable to an outsider's opinion that he shut the doors on his wife, or why he was weeping so inconsolably over Lakshman's fainted body. This portrayal of spiritual figures as perfect and superhuman serves as a convenient excuse. By casting them in an image so distant, no relationship remains possible between you and the image. This allows you to safely continue in your old, rotten ways and say, 'That chap was superhuman. He cannot be an example to me. He could do what he did because he was extraordinary, special, divine, belonging to the beyond, transcendental. I am not.' The speaker concludes that this is an obnoxious inner conspiracy towards yourself, which is very bad.