Something Cool I Never Knew About

I was just bumping around the internet, reading about things that interest me, when I came across this:



Hey, awesome! Universal Studios had a Conan live show in their tours! And sure, it might be based on the movie, but it's Conan, right?

Wait a second... why does a weedy guy pick up a sword and turn into a big musclebound dude? Does he have the power of Grayskull? And why is Red Sonja involved? Exactly what is this based on, anyway?

Okay, so this has absolutely nothing to do with Conan, but it must have been pretty kick ass to watch back in the day. As I've said before, I love cheesy fantasy almost as much as I enjoy quality fantasy. Swords, fire, animatronic dragon. What else does a boy need?

Apparently someone recorded the whole thing on a crappy camcorder (did they have any other sort in the late 80s/early 90s?). Enjoy the campy awesomeness!

Dark Horse Solomon Kane, you're sitting in the naughty chair

(Note: not for the squeamish, and also plenty of spoilers)

I was a bit disappointed with the first volume of Dark Horse's run on Solomon Kane, but the second volume is making me want to drop the title. This isn't any sort of review, mind. This is how I feel. Results not typical. If you feel strongly about it, you're more than welcome to.

My primary complaint is the gore. As an avid fan of the writer's work, I don't mind pints of squirting blood and lots of violent action. But after a point it just turns my stomach. It's always a line between telling a story and just being unnecessarily gruesome. In the first volume, guts are spilled in liberal measure, including one scene in which a man's intestines are apparently twisted around Kane's sword as he pulls it out. The real turning point for me came when a monster tears off a named female character's face near the end of the story. I can take most things, but gratuitously graphic violence towards women makes me sick.

In the second volume, the gore dial got ratcheted up to 11. Practically every scene in which a monster gets shot or stabbed resulted in copious amounts of hanging (and/or splattering) red viscera. And they do get shot and stabbed frequently. And it's not just the monsters. In one scene, a man gets the top of his head cut off and his brains spill out. In another, a woman has her neck twisted all the way around, breaking her spine. A man who falls from a second-story window breaks both legs into a shredded mess with the bones sticking out. Feel free to call me a sissy, but this feels excessive.

Both stories are based around original fragments written by Howard, in the same way the Conan series has been doing in some of the volumes. The first volume deals with the fragment "The Castle of the Devil," which originally never even goes as far as to establish what the real nature of the conflict is. The comic pretty much makes up the whole story, beyond it involving Kane, a wandering Englishman, and a sinister baron's castle around which he likes to string up children for supposed crimes. I actually liked this story. The supernatural mystery and tangled strings of motivations made it an entertaining read.

The second volume uses a full Kane story, "The Rattle of Bones," and another fragment, "Death's Black Riders." Contrary to what I would have expected, "The Rattle of Bones" makes up a single chapter, surrounded by the fairly flat story built from the fragment. They really base it on a single line from the two page fragment: "They swept on, horse and rider a single formless black object like some fabulous monster." In this story, this is literal: the enemies are misshapen, vaguely centaurlike monsters. They're attacking people for reasons never clearly explained. It's suggested they were summoned by a gypsy to fight off bandits, but they stick around apparently just because they'd like a Solomon Kane sammmich. A monster gets a couple of lines about wanting to destroy the whole human race near the end, but by that point Solomon Kane has killed most of the other monsters, so that's a pretty optimistic goal. The story is mostly an extended siege of a tavern and a lot of fighting off the monsters as they try to get in. Not terrible, but nothing special.

(Aside: I like the way they did "The Rattle of Bones," but it felt rushed. It could have used a longer simmer to get the right spooky flavor.)

The dialogue isn't great, either. It's serviceable for the most part, with occasional awkward line: "Did your prayers stop that thing, priest? No! 'Twas this [the pistol], in my iron right hand!"

In the end, it's the gore that makes me pause. For a great story (and the first one is quite good), I can put up with even a lot of it. But the second story was pretty weak, and being constantly showered with visceral splatter makes me think I'm going to leave the rest of these volumes on the shelf.

(I should also mention that the coloring in the first volume was done by the excellent Dave Stewart, who also colored many of the Dark Horse Conans with art by Cary Nord. Give credit is credit is due, Stewart does a bang-up job.)

A Very Half-Assed Reaction to the Age of Conan Video Game

In the tradition of my very half-assed reactions to fantasy stuff, I will here review the Age of Conan MMO. There's a free to play intro, so I decided I'd take a crack at digital Hyboria.

First things first: the game needed to download 3+ gigs of stuff before it would play. That's in addition the ridiculously long install time. Even after that, it had to update itself for at least another ten minutes after I launched the game and got into the character builder. After I built my character, I had to wait ANOTHER ten minutes before I could actually fire up the game.

If you had any doubts that I was going to make a "Conqueror" class Cimmerian hero with the height and muscles maxed out, you haven't read enough of this blog. Surprisingly, the Cimmerians in this game are quite pale. Makes me wonder, considering how often Robert E. Howard refers to Conan as a "bronzed" man. Well, maybe he was just dipped in bronze at some point in his career.

First, the good. I kind of like the combat system of selecting to attack left, high, or right depending on where your enemy is defending. Since the screen shows you were best to attack (wherever the enemy has the fewest arrows), it's basically the world's easiest game of Simon Says, but it does get more interactive than just rick clicking something and going for a pee break while the fight unfolds.

I was hoping these three basic attacks would last me, but soon enough as I leveled up (the game threw levels at me the way I throw coins at dancing girls in Tarantia), I unlocked a bunch of abilities that have a short warm-up meter and then unleash an attack that takes a few seconds to cool down. So though I could say it's more or less like World of Warcraft, what I really mean to say it's more like World of Warcraft and less UNlike World of Warcraft. Still, the three basic attacks does work for me. It's kind of fun, forcing the player to take an active role in the fight... if you ignore that you're just swinging wildly away at each other anyway while you both stand still. Hack and slash, swashbuckling brawling this ain't.

NPCs have exclamation points over their heads when they have quests for you and question marks when you're ready to complete the quest. If you don't know why this is a criticism, you've probably never played a fantasy MMO.

After coming across a maiden in need of saving literally thirty seconds into entering the game (after someone bitched at me about me being a slave who just survived a shipwreck and told me to go into town), I killed a few beach combers, freed the maiden with a key one of them dropped, and then she started following me around, cheering and clapping every time I got into a fight. She became my very own personal cheering section while I got chewed on by baddies. Yay gender equality.

At this point I should mention the performance. My six year old computer (the retired Southern gentleman planter Colonel Aloisius Dell) did most emphatically NOT enjoy playing this game. I turned the settings all the way down until the graphics looked worse than World of Warcraft (flat textures, pastel colors, crude movements), but the screen would still freeze for a few seconds when there was too much going on--usually when I was getting stabbed in the nipples.

I beat up some pirates and their pet cats, found a few slightly less awful items (I started the game with a broken oar as a weapon--apparently I couldn't even find a whole oar), and beat up a fat guy who used to be my slavemaster. In this conversation, the game made sure to earn its M rating, making reference to "raping" my ears, calling the dude a "whore's son," and various other jargon Tarantino would have been proud of. It would have been a tense scene if our conversation wouldn't have drawn on so long, or if I could have just broken it off with a kick to the groin. He's all "Hey, my slave! Come be my slave again." I'm all "I'm going to kick your balls off." He's all "Don't be like that. Let's get you into town and I'll sell you." I'm all "I'm going to tear you a new asshole." He's all "There's no need to get bent out of shape. We can work this out. Here, put these chains on." I'm all "I'm going to tear off your head and shit down your neck." He's all "If you really feel strongly about it...." I'm all "CAN WE JUST START PUNCHING EACH OTHER ALREADY?" He's all "Well, if you REALLY want to." (Conversation paraphrased.)

After I beat up some Picts (hanging out in Tortage, in the Barachan isles? eh, it's a demo area), I headed past some vine-covered idols of dark gods (points) into a forgotten jungle-swallowed temple (more points) to fight some ghoul-type monsters. After doing my usual ass-kicking, I grabbed the key to a door and headed through the rest of the jungle. I punched some gorillas in the balls (REH loved using gorillas as enemies, so even more points here), then came across a flowing river of lava.

I really could have just gone over the bridge, but I decided to see what happens when I touch the river of lava. I gingerly dipped my toe into it, only to be told that I've been incinerated. A few seconds later, my character died, and I respawned. No biggie. My cheering section even found me a moment later and we continued with our day as though nothing happened. I talked to her, and she didn't even seem to notice that I, apparently, just died a horrible flaming death not thirty seconds ago and reappeared somewhere in the jungle. There was a gimmick about me being marked somehow and not allowed to die by the gods, but this really broke my sense of being immersed in a gritty fantasy world and reminded me I was playing a game.

When I arrived at town, I was told I couldn't go into town since I was wearing my slave chains. Instead of just putting on a really loose long-sleeved shirt, I was told to go talk to the blacksmith, who then told me he couldn't take my chains off until I helped him shore up a dam to keep lava from destroying the town. I had to go grab materials for him to help build the dam. Now, anything involving lava is awesome, so I might have forgiven such an obvious fetch quest, but this is a game with Conan's name literally all over it. It's not called "adventures in extreme engineering."

The blacksmith also reminded me of another complaint, which might seem trivial, but it really chapped my loincloth-clad ass. In character creation, I maxed out my character's muscles and height, and yet it seemed like every male NPC was A FREAKING HEAD TALLER than my guy. Maybe I get bigger as I level up or something, but nothing makes me feel weenier than having to crane my neck to look up at every Tom, Dick, and Harry who wants me to fetch his widgets. And a Conan game should NOT be making me feed weenie, BY CROM!

And then I saw my first other player. He jumped out of the town, bunny hopped right by me, swinging his sword wildly, and disappeared around a corner. I wish I was exaggerating.

At this point, I exited the game to go pick up some library books, and when I went to boot it back up, I found out I'd have to download the entire three gigabytes AGAIN. I guess it just lost the first three gigs or something. In a fit of rage, I buried my axe in the monitor and shouted, "BY THIS AXE I RULE!" (Okay, that's a Kull reference, but it's close enough via "The Phoenix on the Sword" connection.)

The verdict? It's an MMO. It's got some gimmicks, but it's just another MMO. There are buff classes, healing classes, magic classes, and melee and ranged DPS classes. Maybe the graphics would be better if my computer was made during the Obama administration, but that's not really at issue here. An MMO is a grind. You fight the same enemies over and over. You execute pointless, grinding quests. You swing wildly at enemies until one of you falls over. You kill "weedy grunt enemy" and "slightly bigger, though only slightly less weedy grunt enemy" a thousand times before you finally start equipping things that aren't called "torn ragged brown-stained loincloth with a hole that lets the breeze through." You're not changing the fate of empires or thwarting evil wizards, you're doing the same linear kill sprees a thousand other players are doing at the same time.

If you're looking for the tight action, the thrilling swashbuckling, the intense emotion, the wild bloody exotic ADVENTURE that is Conan, a video game just won't cut it.

It's almost like I saw this coming before I even tried it....

Now if you'll excuse me, the necromantic ghost of Robert E. Howard is at the door, and he's got a knuckle sandwich he needs to give me.

(PS Yes, I did go back and play a little more, but it wasn't getting any better, so I got bored and did the blog. I told you it was half-assed.)

Brief Star Wars Thought

"A Jedi's strength flows from the Force, but beware of the dark side. Anger, fear, aggression. The dark side of the Force they are. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny."

I've been watching a lot of Star Wars these days, trying to reconnect with the reasons I've loved Star Wars since I was a kid, trying to separate in my mind the wise Muppet Yoda from the CGI lightsaber-wielding Yoda, and all that comes with both. The last line of the quote stood out for me.

Much has been made of "destiny" in Star Wars, and whether the paths of the characters are predetermined. The ability to see the future has been used to explain away lots of inconvenient plot points (although "always in motion is the future"), not to mention the giant plot device of the prophecy in the prequel trilogy. But this quote seems to present another type of destiny in Star Wars.

This quote suggests you choose your own path, and that path determines your destiny. Your destiny isn't a single line that's already been laid out, but rather a number of alternatives among which you choose by the paths you take. This feels much more like wisdom about the consequences our choices have rather than an assertion of predetermination. The two paths Luke's life could go play a big role in Episodes 5 and 6: will he choose to follow his father's path or forge his own? This is about choice, not a single destiny he's bound to obey.

The same thing applies to the Emperor's taunt of "I have foreseen it" and "it is your destiny" in Episode 6. It's possible the Emperor really has seen one possible path Luke's life could go, but his downfall is he doesn't leave room for Luke's own choices. He makes the mistake a lot of Star Wars fans (and EU writers, cough cough) seem to make: that destiny is something set for you rather than something you forge yourself.

Maybe I'm trying too hard to read into it what I want to be there, but I still find this encouraging, because on closer reading it doesn't seem nearly as deterministic as it does on first watching. Your destiny is the path you choose.

What Kind of D&D Character Are You?

Recently, my friend Kage took a quiz about what D&D character he is, so I decided to do the same. When I got to question 42, I knew I was in trouble.

42. Civilization makes us...

...stronger.
...weaker.

How do I answer that? I've written quite a lot exploring this issue, and the best answer I've been able to come up with is "both." I can certainly see the Robert E. Howard perspective that civilization makes us weak, but I also think that civilization ennobles us and creates art and learning.

I'm answering these questions based on what I really think, not on what I wish I think, but still, I'm stumped on this one. I don't like living in the city, and I love the country. On the other hand, I really admire cosmopolitan cultures like the Victorians and the Romans. GAH! I think I'll just go with 'stronger.' After all, I am going into academia.

Here's another one:

45. Animals...

...deserve our respect.
...are delicious.

Animals get my full respect. I really do love animals, and yet I also love eating them. I respectfully eat their delicious bodies. How do I answer this?

Also, several questions are about things like "It's better to be agile or tough?" And I'm left thinking, well, out of the two of these, I'm more agile than tough (a little vs. not at all), but I believe it's much better to be tough. So how do I answer that?

98. A powerful but corrupt lawyer offers you money if you'll testify against your friend. Do you:

Condemn your friend and take the money?
Take the money and testify, but try to keep your testimony ineffective?
Refuse the offer and refuse to testify?
Testify on your friend's behalf, no matter the consequences?

This is another really tough one. My choices are obviously between the third and fourth option, but it leaves out an important consideration: is my friend guilty? I think some of these are purposefully ambiguous. Now that I think about it, that's probably good: it allows the quiz to take into account the underlying assumptions the reader draws out of the questions.



You Are A:

Neutral Good Human Wizard (4th Level)

Ability Scores:
Strength- 13
Dexterity- 13
Constitution- 15
Intelligence- 19
Wisdom- 15
Charisma- 15

Alignment:
Neutral Good- A neutral good character does the best that a good person can do. He is devoted to helping others. He works with kings and magistrates but does not feel beholden to them. Neutral good is the best alignment you can be because it means doing what is good without bias for or against order. However, neutral good can be a dangerous alignment because it advances mediocrity by limiting the actions of the truly capable.

Race:
Humans are the most adaptable of the common races. Short generations and a penchant for migration and conquest have made them physically diverse as well. Humans are often unorthodox in their dress, sporting unusual hairstyles, fanciful clothes, tattoos, and the like.

Class:
Wizards- Wizards are arcane spellcasters who depend on intensive study to create their magic. To wizards, magic is not a talent but a difficult, rewarding art. When they are prepared for battle, wizards can use their spells to devastating effect. When caught by surprise, they are vulnerable. The wizard's strength is her spells, everything else is secondary. She learns new spells as she experiments and grows in experience, and she can also learn them from other wizards. In addition, over time a wizard learns to manipulate her spells so they go farther, work better, or are improved in some other way. A wizard can call a familiar- a small, magical, animal companion that serves her. With a high Intelligence, wizards are capable of casting very high levels of spells.




Honestly, I'm most surprised to get such a high Con score. Why? Because of all those toughness questions I answered? Those were personal opinion, man, not actually reflected in my puniness. The same with my Strength score. I'm average at best, and I freely admitted that. I really tried to answer these questions as would play out in real life. Also, as I mentioned on Kage's blog, I don't see being good as limiting at all. In fact, if someone tried to persuade me to be otherwise, I'd consider that to be forcing me to be something I'm not!

Black ICE/White Noise

I remember the mid-90's, when cyberpunk was a legitimate genre for video games--ten years after it was a legitimate genre for fiction. Combine that with my fascination with vaporware and failed technology (the Jaguar), and you get a story that's definitely grabbed my interest.

If only I could find more about this game and its production!

Avatar: Special Edition

In the time since I last blogged, I've moved to a new city and started my PhD program at a new school. Despite all this, the first post I'm making is about Avatar, and having seen the new special edition at the theater. Yes, James Cameron can add a couple of minutes of bonus footage and I'll shell out ten bucks to go see the same movie again. But to tell the truth, I would have paid the same for the chance to go see Avatar again. It was 3D. I complained about it a bit the first time, but now I genuinely think it adds something. I felt drawn closer into the world, experiencing the scenery and things around the characters more distinctly. Because of focal length, the background stuff in 2D is often much fuzzier in 3D, which means you can look around a lot more freely in 3D.

So here are the new scenes, if I can recall them all.

-While flying out on his first mission as Avatar, Jake sees a herd of creatures we don't really see in the other version. It's a scene of a few seconds, but it sets up a scene later on, so I mention it.
-On that same mission, Grace, Norm, and Jake visit the old school. We see a series of bullet holes in the chalkboard, but Grace doesn't want to talk about it. When Jake asks why the Na'vi haven't come back, Grace says, "They've learned enough about us," or something to that effect. There's also a scene in which they find a Na'vi-sized copy of The Lorax. Grace says something about it being her favorite. I really hope this was Cameron poking fun at himself, rather than hammering home his point. This was a good scene, but we gathered as much from the movie as it was.
-When Jake sits down with the Na'vi around the fire, there's a brief scene in which Neytiri introduces herself and teaches Jake how to say her name. He still says it wrong.
-When Jake startles the little swirly-flying thing for the first time, Neytiri joins him in scaring them up to make them fly. This shows that she's seeing the forest through his eyes, experiencing his childlike wonder along with him.
-When Grace moves the project to the Hallelujah Mountains, Jakes explains why the levitation works as they get off the flyer. Since unobtainium is a superconductor, it works like maglev. "Or something." I didn't feel this was necessary information, but it's still cool.
-After Jake gets his banshee, he and the other hunters shoot some of the beasts I mentioned above. This leads directly into the "stone cold aerial killer" monologue.
-Yes, infamously, we get to see Jake and Neytiri link their qeues when they are mated after his initiation. This is maybe an additional three seconds. Big whoop. Hardly the "Na'vi sex scene" people keep yammering about online. Even in the original we see that their qeues are touching, and I assumed from the first time I saw the film that they linked them.
-We see the aftermath of the Na'vi attack on the bulldozers. The humans have all been massacred and the machines have been destroyed. Especially since this is seen through the eyes of the humans, I felt this scene was particularly important, and probably my favorite of all the ones they added. It shows the Na'vi struck first (admittedly with good reason) and it explains Selfridge's decision to attack Home Tree.
-During the final fight, we see that Tsu'tey survives getting shot and falling from the shuttle at least long enough to...
-After the last fight, Jake, Neytiri, and the Na'vi come across Tsu'tey as he lies dying. He tells Jake he needs to lead the Omaticaya, and says he is proud he fought beside Jake. This is the one addition I wish wouldn't have been included, since it's so sentimental and unnecessary, but it was a bit lightened when Jake answers, "I'm not officer material." But we all know he will do it.

There were some other brief moments, but I'm pretty sure I hit everything major.


The bottom line is that the extra stuff is good, but doesn't change the movie hugely (though I do enjoy that it complicates the plot a bit that the Na'vi destroyed the bulldozers and killed the humans guarding them). What's really key is that I was worried, going in, that I wouldn't connect as much with the film as I did the first few times I saw it. But I did. I was completely immersed, and I had tears in my eyes in several scenes.

So call me soft or call me a fanboy, but I loved seeing the Special Edition, even for ten more bucks. I might even see it again.

Tell Microsoft I'm Not Speaking To It

For the last few months, I've been using Microsoft's brilliantly useful Windows Live Workspace. It allows me to open my Microsoft Word documents anywhere and edit them easily within the Word application. This has allowed me to write and edit my fiction from several different places, such as my home computer and the computers at work. So far, so good. Unfortunately, Microsoft has decided they're going to cancel Live Workspace and transfer everything to SkyDrive.

Any my version of Word doesn't support SkyDrive.

That leaves me with three equally unpalatable choices. One, go back to much less convenient work-arounds, such as emailing myself documents or using another, less integrated service. Two, use the crappy in-browser editor Microsoft gives you with SkyDrive, which is about equal to this cheapo text editor I'm using to write this blog. Three, buy a new version of Microsoft Office for around a hundred fifty bucks just so I can keep going with the service I've gotten used to.

I can shrug off most inconveniences, but I'm furious about people messing with my writing. You can't dangle this great service in front of me and then take it away from me if I don't pay you more money, Microsoft. That's just not right.

I can't help but think it wouldn't be difficult to continue to support Workspace. It gives me less storage space than SkyDrive, which is fine by me, since I'm only using it for text documents. If I chose to voluntarily keep using Workspace, I could save Microsoft some storage space. Yeah, storage is currently ridiculously cheap, and I'm sure it's assigning employees to keep the system running that's the issue, but that doesn't make me any happier. This just stinks of Microsoft wanting me to buy a new product just so I can keep doing something they offered me before with my old product.

I'm genuinely upset. I don't know what I'm going to do. I genuinely want to keep using this service, but I don't have that kind of money. To add insult to injury, Workspace still assures me it's in Beta. Does this mean there will never be a release version? Have I been teased this whole time? I'm so mad I can hardly even type. I'm so mad my skin's turning... kinda... green. I... can't... think straight. No... not again...! I........


RAAAAAAAAAAAAR! HULK SMASH!

A Very Half-Assed Reaction to The Legend of the Seeker

I watched a single episode of The Legend of the Seeker, on which I will now base my opinion of the entire show. It wasn't even the first episode, but episode 18 of season 2, because that's the closest to the beginning Hulu would show me for free. I obviously don't care enough about writing a review to bother spending money on it, or even the time it would take to find a pirated stream of the first episode. Here be spoilers, but since I have no idea who is whom and what's going on, it would be difficult for me to spoil anything majorly.

The villain is hideously cheesy. He has a goatee, long hair, a cape, and speaks with a British accent. To add an even more obviously derivitive level of cheese, he's dead in this episode, and longs to come back to life, missing "the taste of a crisp apple." At the very end of the episode, he grabs an apple out of a basket, takes a bite, and looks meaningfully at the camera. I wish I could make this up. At that point it went from ripping off Pirates of the Carribean to being an outright homage to it. (I called him Cheesy in my mind, since I could never figure out what name they were saying.) He was also the hero's brother, which he constantly reminds the viewer by calling him "brother" at the slightest chance. Makes me wonder whether fantasy worlds are really just composed of three extended families. And a bunch of peasants, of course.

Perhaps because the episode was so late in the series, there was no character development for any of the main characters. In fact, I'm not entirely sure what any of them do. One of them seemed to have the ability to take over the mind of anyone whose eyes she looks into, which they called "confession." I guess having grown up Catholic confused me about the actual meaning of the word, but it would explain some things about organized religion (oo, burn, but I don't really mean that about religion; I only wonder if the show/writer did). There was also a wizard (played by the gyrocopter pilot from the Mad Max movies) who could shoot fire from his hands and said everything important with his eyes OPENED REALLY WIDE. There was one laugh out loud moment when he "cast a spell" by holding his hand off-camera while the spell sound effect went off. BUDGET-TASTIC.

Perhaps my biggest complaint is that the show all felt like it was set in a generic medieval world. The villains wore chainmail and tabards fresh from the prop department and got chopped up with minimal effort. Major plot events unfolded in a generic tavern. Everyone wore tunics and boots and dresses. The hot warrior women villains wearing tight tight leather seemed to have been lifted from any half-assed modern fantasy novel, which I suppose is what the source novels might well be. I confess to never having read them and having no intention to do so. So really, this review is more like quarter-assed at best.

The show was also rife with generic fantasy names. I have a theory that you can judge any fansty story by adding together unpronouncable names and generic words capitalized to form proper nouns. It's like golf: the higher your score, the shittier your fantasy. There were more than a few of the former: when spoken, I count any word as unpronouncable if I have no idea how to spell it even after hearing it a half-dozen times in the show. Of the latter there were plenty: The Keeper, The Seeker, The Spirits, The Midlands, The Stone of Tears, The Creator, The Lands of the South, The Sisters of the Dark, The Veil... seriously, is there a shortage of proper nouns in this world? It's like whoever was coming up with names for things just gave up halfway. Along these lines, I could call my magical chair The Chair, my keyboard The Keyboard, and my computer mouse Raymond, because I also haven't mentioned that half the characters have completely normal English names like Walter, while the other half have generic fantasy names. Here I should give an example of one of those generic fantasy names, but I wasn't paying close enough attention to actually pick any up. Or know how to spell them.

The episode centered around what I can only call a wacky caper by two minor villain characters, as the 'story' plot it was woven into consisted of The Seeker trying to take The Scroll from The Sisters of the Dark to protect The Veil, and the writers may have realized this was way too generic fantasy to hold even their core watchers' attention. So wacky buddy hijinx it was. (I realize it was the Scroll-of-Something-or-Another, possibly the Scroll of MacGuffin, so I didn't list it above, but they DID refer to it for most of the episode as simply 'The Scroll.')

To reiterate, there were plenty of fantasy staples: an evil temple, a tavern, a Renfaire town market, bad guys in chainmail carrying crossbows, Burning Hands, a villain with a goatee and English accent, an old wizard with long white hair, a generic fantasy hero with a destiny and no charisma (I'll rant about destiny some other time), cold-hearted villain women who are both way too good looking and way too thin to be a combat threat, etc, etc, etc.; I could go on about these at length, but it also seemed like the heroes were just too darn powerful for me to think they might not succeed. They blew through dozens of bad guys hardly taking a scratch. In one scene the characters find it almost laughably easy to transfer a character from one body to the other and bring another character back from the dead. This scene had me in near stitches because the actress spoke the 'magical language' (repeating the same phrases over and over) with an ahfahl Amahrucan accahnt. Nothing ruins the magic of a made-up language like that swallowed R.

The hero of the spoof Krod Mandoon, although that show was absolutely awful, seemed kind of likeable for his everyman personality and sense of humor. The hero of this show (the titular Seeker) only seemed really focused, because he just looked at things intensely. Or maybe he just needs glasses. But like I said before, this episode didn't center on him, and I'm not sure if he got more than ten lines in the whole thing.

There were, however, some moments I found kind of cool. ... Okay, I've sat here for literally five minutes since typing that, and none come to mind. But there really were some moments that made me think, "Hey, that's kind of cool." At the end of the day, every criticism I've had, I say with love. This is the corny, derivitive crap that I've seen pop up again and again in books, magazines, roleplaying games, TV shows, and movies. And, like an annoying friend who just keeps coming around, it's grown on me, and now those silly tropes and over the top plot devices are familiar and, yes, even dear to me.

The production values, while TV level, weren't the worst I've lived with, and I do love me some fantasy, even when it's hardly great. It's magic, heroes with swords, and escapist. I've been telling bad fantasy stories with my buddies since I was a kid, and some part of me loves even the really cheeseball stuff like this. To paraphrase what Brian Posehn says in his video about "Metal By Numbers," compared with sitcoms or reality TV, even shitty fantasy rules!

Toshiro Mifune Kills Indians

Let's just get this out of the way: the most obvious drawback of the movie Red Sun is that Toshiro Mifune's voice is dubbed when he speaks English. I've heard it was one of his greatest regrets that he was never allowed to use his voice for his English lines in his movies, and that makes me doubly sad. Mifune's voice is inimitable, resonating and powerful, and any voice they choose for him doesn't do the great actor justice. I really wish there was a version with his original voice, but I'm afraid I'm not so lucky.

That being said, Red Sun is a Western with Toshiro Mifune in it. In one movie, he adds Indians, banditos, and cowboys to The List of Things Killed by Toshiro Mifune. While his voice might not be his own (save when he speaks Japanese), his powerful screen presence commands this movie, and that alone is worth the almost two hours of runtime.

It's by no means a perfect movie, and so I'll anticipate some of the complaints you might have, and answer them all accordingly.

You: It's a hackneyed Western plot with stock characters and situations.
Me: It's Toshiro Mifune in a Western.

You: The writers clearly had only a cursory knowledge of Japanese culture.
Me: Toshiro Mifune plays a samurai badass.

You: Although the plot initially balances Charles Bronson's character with Toshiro Mifune's, the middle of the movie is heavily geared toward Bronson's character, and Mifune becomes something of a sidekick.
Me: Toshiro Mifune is no man's sidekick, least of all Charles Bronson's. He badasses his way right into the spotlight, whether the director wanted him to or not. Even when he's not speaking or doing much of anything, he's BEING TOSHIRO MIFUNE.

You: The supporting cast, particularly Ursula Andres as a whore who can't keep her shirt on, is disappointing.
Me: You'd be disappointing, too, if you were standing next to Toshiro Mifune.

You: The plots and conflicts are so contrived they practically groan for you.
Me: HAVE YOU HEARD NOTHING I'VE SAID? IT'S TOSHIRO M.F.ING MIFUNE IN A WESTERN!!!

Also, Charles Bronson's character is actually pretty likeable.

The Story of a Soldier

I love the song "The Story of a Soldier" from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. I regularly cite that movie as one of the three best ever made (that I've seen, of course), and this sublime song is beautiful outside the song as well. I listen to it especially when I'm in a mood for Westerns. For those of you familiar with the film, (SPOILERS->) it's the song the Confederate prisoners are made to sing in the prison camp as the guard beats Tuco.

The extended version of the DVD has a longer version of the song on it, and the soundtrack CD has the full thing. I love that the song was written for the movie, but it sounds almost like an authentic Civil War era folk song. Here are the lyrics to the full version:

Bugles are calling from prairie to shore,
Sign up and fall in and march off to war;
Drums beating loudly, hearts beating proudly,
March blue and gray and smile as you go.

Smoke hides the valleys and fire paints the plains,
Loud roar the cannons till ruin remains;
Blue grass and cotton burnt and forgotten,
All hope seems gone, so soldier, march on to die.

Count all the crosses and count all the tears,
These are the losses and sad souvenirs;
This devastation once was a nation,
So fall the dice, how high is the price?

There in the distance, a flag I can see,
Scorched and in ribbons but whose can it be?
How ends the story? Whose is the glory?
Ask if we dare our comrades out there who sleep.

Count all the crosses and count all the tears,
These are the losses and sad souvenirs;
This devastation once was a nation,
So fall the dice, how high is the price we pay?

To me, the song speaks beautifully of the loss and devastation of war, and also of the way men who live in difficult times struggle on while longing for a better life. I think it's wonderful the way a song from a movie or TV show can become so important to me even away from its original context. Are there any songs like that for you?

Random Writing Thought

I'm currently writing a story with the working title "The Month of Two Suns." I can't help but think that "The Day of Two Suns" sounds much more dramatic, not to mention much more like a good fantasy story. A month is just too much time. It's hard to remain excited/scared about anything for a whole month, even if you're living in a fantasy world that has no TVs or Internet. The first few days you might run around and bump into things, but sooner or later, you have to eat something.

"Month" is, naturally, the amount of time the two suns appear in the story (which is to say, the sun and a comet), but I can't help but want to change it to "Day". If I see anything titled "Month" in a journal, I might just skip it, thinking it's just too long to bother with. I don't have the imagination at the moment to follow a whole month's itinerary, even if it's stuffed full of swashbuckling action and rip-roaring adventure (what exactly is the origin of that expression?). And the story isn't about the whole month anyway, just the end of it.

Do you think this hard about the titles for things? I know it really doesn't matter, since it's just a working title anyway. So, what did YOU spend your free time today doing?

The Web Ebb

I'm coining that, by the way. If this becomes a real thing, then I'm the first one who came up with it. Even if someone else has used it, I testify that I haven't heard of it, so I came up with it independently. Anyway, on with the show.

Lately, I've noticed that some of my friends are either thinking of leaving Facebook or outright leaving it. Most of my friends have either closed down their MySpace or at least stopped using it. Five years ago, I would have seen five to ten of my friends on instant messenger at any given time, and now I see maybe two or three.

I don't know whether this is a real trend or just something in my demographic. I know that my generation, the ones in their mid to late twenties, was the first to be immersed completely in the digital age. I was around eleven or twelve when I first really started getting into computers: the internet, email, that sort of thing. I remember when I fell for one of the first "Bill Gates will send you money if you forward this to all your friends" ploys. I remember the days I would type in a topic, add .com, and see what came up. Those were the days before Google, when WebCrawler, Lycos, and Excite were my main search engines. Within a few years, everyone I knew had instant messenging and email. And a few years after that, we started hearing about just how plugged in we are. I've heard it said that the computers have gone from another activity you do to the way we live.

But these days, it seems like that mad rush into the digital frontier, the topic of so many TV specials and documentary films, is slowing down. Maybe it's across the board and maybe it's just those of us who have been immersed in it for more than a decade, but it feels like people are starting to come up for a breath. I've heard it said many times that the internet age sneaked up on us, and we found ourselves plugged in without realizing how far in we'd gone, but I think that awareness is becoming more common. We've been jacked in for so long that we're starting to see the effects it's really had on our lives--and we're starting to pull back.

I won't claim that I'm starting to use the computer less, just that my desire to do so has waned. I still get anxious if I go more than a couple of hours without checking my email. I still check Facebook at least three times a day. But when I do so, I spend much less time on it. I visit my favorite sites out of habit, but I don't stay long. I've stopped playing massively multiplayer online games and online RPGs. I'm no longer really interested in having conversations with people I've never met. That novelty has long since worn off.

I noticed a smaller web ebb a few years ago when people stopped using MySpace and blogs quite as much. For a while out of high school and into college, it felt like a half dozen of my friends had regular blogs. These days, no one I know posts more than once a week. Sure, there are sites like Twitter, but I don't know anyone in my age range who's really jumped into that. In particular, I feel like we are less and less likely to all get excited about something new, getting on some new service or program.

It's possible the web has become just so integrated into our lives that it's no longer exciting, but I don't think that's it. I think we're genuinely starting to drift away from our computers. In some small way, I think the real world is starting to have that novelty effect that the digital world had for us fifteen years ago. We've gone so long plugged in that unplugging has become the new frontier.

Freedom and love

(I apologize that much of this isn't gender-neutral, but I am a man, and I'm putting these questions primarily to myself. I look forward to hearing your comments, though!)

I am fascinated by difficult choices, the moral quandaries in which the choice isn't good and evil, but two nearly equal qualities.

One of the first of these I thought excessively about is mercy and justice. This became particularly important to me when I started teaching college a few years ago. While judging student performance fairly is vital (after all, we wouldn't have grades without it), it's also difficult to look at a student who's genuinely struggling and say there is no room for circumstances. I'm still a sucker for the sob story. As much as it's important to be just (for the sake of the respect of my students, if not for Crom's sake!), I can't ignore that there is a personal relationship in all things, and people are not robots who exist to write papers and take classes mechanically. Life is a complex, varied mix, and it's impossible to foresee every eventuality that might net a student some leniency. Not only that, but I also have to keep in mind what the just grade would do to the squishy things like a student's self esteem and enthusiasm for a subject, which in many cases is on shaky ground as it is.

I have been pondering another question these days: freedom and love. Our modern society is fortunate--and spoiled--by having more freedom than almost any other people in history. Naturally, true freedom is largely rhetorical, since it's impossible to be absolutely free outside an anarchy. As opposed to Mad Max, a modern human is always immediately beholden to someone, whether a corporation, a government, or a religion. When we speak of freedom, then, we speak of degrees of freedom, of the difference between being free to light someone on fire and being free to express my own opinions or pursue a life that makes me happy. It's the freedom of women to live without fear or shame, as equals to men, and the freedom of all people to embrace their identities without prejudice.

It's difficult for me, I think, to imagine a world without freedom. I see it on the news, and I recognize the threat when the government steps up surveillance and detention, but I don't know the feeling of another man's boot on my neck.

Often I see the sentiment repeated that love is the greatest thing a man can aspire to, that life isn't worth living without it, and that it is man's greatest happiness. I believe true happiness can be found in love, and that humanity is by nature lonely without the embrace of a kindred spirit, the union between two souls, and the building of a family.

But the two may conflict. Perhaps the clearest conflict is the choice than comes with oppression and injustice. Does one stay home and safe, or leave everything he loves to fight? Does he risk losing all those things to go far away, fighting for something much less tangible than what he has? Is it worth dying for, leaving a family fatherless and hearts broken, for a cause like that? It is much easier, after all, to make do with the sacrifices oppression demands. It is safer to say "we cannot change these things, and it is foolish to try." We more readily bow our heads before the great inevitability of forces beyond our own strength.

This is a question I can't answer now. Is it a noble, good death to die for freedom? Is it just a word, an amorphous concept that never really exists? Is it all rhetoric to send men to their deaths, a bourgeois tool of control? Or is there true freedom, and is it really worth dying for? After all, it's not just the one life at stake, but the life and happiness of many that depend on that one.

I can only be glad that I do not yet have to answer these questions, and hope that, if the choice is put to me, I will choose well. Now, because I am young and idealistic, I believe I would choose one way, but I can just as well see the other side. After all, I have no love, and so it feels easier to give up the idea of it.



The poem that springs to mind when I think about this topic is one by the legendary Hungarian poet Sandor Petofi:

Szabadság, szerelem!
E kettő kell nekem.
Szerelmemért föláldozom
Az életet,
Szabadságért föláldozom
Szerelmemet.

(My translation:)
Freedom, love!
I need these two things.
For my love I sacrifice
My life,
For freedom I sacrifice
My love.



And he did.

Why I Love Star Wars

It's difficult to explain why we love anything because love is a pure emotion. Never ask your significant other, "Why do you love me?" We can no more explain the reasons we love than we can explain the feeling of love itself. Poets have been trying since the dawn of language, and we are no closer, not for lack of flower and moon imagery.

But I can get into some of the memories I have with Star Wars, and the joy it has brought me. I can still remember when I was a boy and I watched Star Wars for the first time with my parents. My dad tried to convince me that the lightsaber was really called a "life-saver." He also tried to say that Obi-Wan was Luke's uncle. I'm still not sure to this day whether he was serious or just screwing with me. I do remember he had pictures of himself with some original AT-AT models, since he told stories about how he had met some of the guys who worked on them.

Most of all, it's the moments from the movies that stand out to me the most. I remember the thrill that went through me the first time Luke turns on the lightsaber in Ben's hut. A simple piece of metal turned into a glowing blade in an instant! After seeing that, everything vaguely stick-shaped for me became a lightsaber. I remember playing Darth Vader and lightsaber fighting my brothers when my bed still had bars on the side and legs. I was convinced for a while that Darth Vader was a robot.

I particularly remember that my parents were scared that the rancor would freak me out, so they told me not to look. Naturally, nothing terrifies a kid as much as his imagination when he hears something scary and is told not to look at it. What our mind paints for us is far more terrifying than anything a creature shop can whip up. I still can't watch the rancor scene without flinching a little inside.

I remember watching the Ewok movies on cable. I remember it as something of a dream: I knew Ewoks and Endor from Star Wars, yet they were set apart from the characters and stories I knew and loved. It is still bizarre to me to watch them, like discovering after all these years that The Bible has a Part 2 starring only the apostles.

Years later, when I was perhaps 7 or 8, my mom read my brothers and me the Thrawn trilogy by Timothy Zahn. I remember running to our bedroom every night, singing the Star Wars theme song over and over until she got out the big hardcover from the library with the glossy cover and started to read. She read to us on the bumpy roads through the desert, and when she took breaks when the road got too bad to see the pages, I would look out the window and imagine the rolling sagebrush scenery filled with blaster fire, whirling starships, and the glow of lightsabers.

A few years after that, I owned just about every Star Wars action figure you could imagine. I would play with them constantly, inventing new stories, based on the movies and the books I was reading. For a while, I had every published novel read (except Splinter of the Mind's Eye, which I would only read many years later, to my horror). I owned dozens of the books and made my way through them without much awareness if they were good or not. I remember being vaguely disappointed with Darksaber, which I see now is one of the worst books I've read.

I got into the Star Wars video games. As a teenager, I owned Shadows of the Empire, but I never played it all that much. Later, I bought Jedi Academy, which is one of the better games I've played, and I particularly enjoyed playing it multiplayer. Every game eventually descended into flailing with lightsabers. I played a few hours of Battlefront and Battlefront 2, playing through the campaigns of each several times. I especially enjoyed the galactic battle modes. I played through The Force Unleashed and enjoyed it, but never played it again.

I've read and enjoyed much of the comics, especially Republic, which I hold to be head and shoulders above all other Star Wars comics I've read.

Perhaps my most striking memory is watching the Star Wars Holiday special with my brothers. For a while, we tried to make fun of it, but our quips and snarky comments became fewer and more hushed. Finally, we sat in stunned, awkward silence. It was like walking in on a woman you love hooking up with a drunk bald fat dude. It seemed like Star Wars, but the similarity only made it all the more awful.

Now, I enjoy (more or less) the Star Wars cartoon, and I eagerly anticipate the live-action TV show. I have a feeling that, despite everything that has happened, my love for Star Wars will stay strong. Those early memories full of lasers and lightsabers won't easily fade, no matter how many times I see Darth Vader say, "NOOOOOOOOO!" at the end of the Revenge of the Sith.

"Anakin. Go to the Senate and ask Chancellor Palpatine to speak with her about this matter."

I'm still on about Attack of the Clones. What can I say? I have a lot of hate stored up.

So Mace Windu, instead of trying to convince Amidala himself or asking Anakin or Obi-Wan to speak with her, tells Anakin to go tell Palpatine to tell Amidala to get out of Dodge? What!? That sounds like the kind of railroading a dungeon master might do.

But my real problem is still with the thin string that connects all the steps that lead to the Clone Wars. I know what fanboys will say: that the Force meant all this to happen, and therefore the wildly unlikely crap that goes down is all part of a greater plan. But let's go through this one step at a time:

1. Count Dooku hires Jango Fett to kill Amidala.
2. Jango Fett doesn't bother, you know, just shooting Amidala or something. Instead, he hires an assassin. Because nothing says badass bounty hunter like hiring a subcontractor.
3. Instead of, you know, just shooting Amidala, the assassin sends bugs into Amidala's room, giving Obi-Wan and Anakin the time to save her. (Did Jango Fett tell the assassin he doesn't REALLY want Amidala dead? Did Dooku tell Jango this in the first place?)
4. Obi-Wan and Anakin run down the assassin. Instead of, you know, just shooting the assassin with a blaster, Jango Fett decides to use a poison dart that is traceable to one particular world. This is the only time we see Jango use equipment other than his standard loadout. (Again, did Dooku tell Jango to not do stuff the logical way? As far as we know, blasters just leave burns that aren't traceable.)
5. "What you got here is a Kamino saber-dart." Yeah, because some greasy spoon hash-slinger knows high-tech weapons. Well, maybe he was someone else in his old life, but note that the reference to the weapon wasn't in the databanks, so instead of checking some other research source like some other library, Obi-Wan goes straight to the burger joint.
6. Obi-Wan takes the dude's word for it without any other evidence than a guy with grease all over him and a mouth that could swallow a yak telling him so.
7. Obi-Wan decides to research Kamino further, since apparently the weapon used is clearly linked to the assassination. That's kind of like if my enemy used an AK-47, I decide to check out a bunch of books about Russia.
8. Dooku erased Kamino from the Jedi databanks, but didn't doctor the files to adjust for the gravity of the star, so it's still obvious it's there. (I can only assume he did this on purpose to make it that much more suspicious.)
9. Obi-Wan decides to go check this stuff out by going all the way to the planet. At this point, he's still just researching the assassination, since he's probably not going to find out on Kamino why someone wiped the databanks on Coruscant. He hasn't researched who the assassin was or who hired him. He hasn't researched any of Amidala's political enemies or anyone else who might profit by her death. Instead, he runs down the source of the ammunition used to kill the assassin. Nobody gives a damn about the bugs that were used to try to kill Amidala herself, which could well be just as rare or specific to one world. We never even find out what those bugs are called. (Now, I know what you're thinking; maybe they did all that, but they just didn't show it. Well, they show so much useless nonsense between Padme and Anakin, that they could have filled in a little more of the plot holes. Just one line: "Everything else connected with this case has been a dead end, so I thought I'd research this dart.")
10. So what exactly is Obi-Wan expecting to do on Kamino? This is only what I imagine would have happened if there wouldn't have been a clone army on Kamino, which of course no one knew there was.

Kaminoan: Hey, a Jedi. You could have just called, you know, but I guess you came all the way out here. That's cool. Whatever. So, what's up?
Obi-Wan: Yo. I found this dart in the neck of a dude who tried to kill someone. I need to know who you sold it to. Does it have barrel grooves or a serial number or something that we could nail down?
Kaminoan: Hell no, since it's never mentioned in the movie.
Obi-Wan: So you have no way of tracking down who you sold that to.
Kaminoan: Dude, we might not have even sold it. He could have stolen it or taken it from the body of someone he killed. We don't even know how recently he came by it. We'd have to go through years and years of sales data.
Obi-Wan: Well, shit. I guess I went through all that for nothing.
Kaminoan: Don't let the sliding door hit you in the ass on the way out.


And just where the HELL does the clone army come from? I'll tell you where. Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas apparently bought an entire army because he FORESAW that the Republic would need it through the Force. Because, you know, the logical solution to troubling premonitions of war is to buy an entire army. Because the Jedi are all about warfare and armies and stuff like that. As Yoda once said, "Wars not make one great. Wars make one BITCHIN' AWESOME!"

And who the hell is Sifo-Dyas? He was an old Jedi buddy of Dooku, which is why Dooku knew about the clones and could set up the whole sequence of events that would lead to the formation of the Grand Army of the Republic. Dooku killed him and incorporated his clone army into his long-term plans. But I've got a few questions:

1. Where did a Jedi come up with the cash for an entire clone army, not to mention weapons, equipment, and starships? He must have gone through a lot of couch cushions to come up with that kind of dough. Dex stresses in his conversation with Obi-Wan that the Kaminoans are a very mercenary lot, so I doubt they're doing it for charity and a tax writeoff.
2. Why didn't Sifo-Dyas tell anyone he was doing this? This isn't the kind of thing you just keep to yourself, is it? "Mace Windu, what are you up to these days?" "Oh, you know, meditating. Keeping the peace. You?" "Nothing, really." "You're not purchasing an entire clone army complete with warships and everything, are you?" "Erm... what makes you think that?" "Hell if I know! I just ask that sometimes for shits and giggles." "Oh... right."
3. And what about this presumed conversation on Kamino: "So, Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas, who would you like to use as the basis for your clone army? A Jedi? An honorable soldier from a Jedi-aligned world, perhaps?" "Yeah, maybe something like that. I haven't really thought about it." "Well, if that's the case, we've got another option we thought you might like. How about an amoral bounty hunter who kills for money?" "Shit yeah! Even better. Let's get this assembly line moving!" Of course, it's possible the Kaminoans just came up with using a bounty hunter on their own, but is that really the kind of decision you just delegate to the long-necked weirdos and hope for the best?

Beat. Slam. Uncensored.

It was a good night for poetry, man. It was a damn good night for poetry. I gotta say, it was all killer tonight. Everyone who got up in front of the mike rocked it. That's way too rare these days, when I end up cringing through sets, but everything tonight was tight and together and the energy in the room was like the world's slowest atom bomb wanted to cut loose and have a good time.

A Faith Betrayed

I watched Star Wars Episode 2 again today. In the past, I have defended Lucas because of all the things he's given me, characters and stories that have shaped me and given me great happiness. I have been loyal, and I have suffered and endured patiently. But no loyal servant deserves that. That movie is a travesty against the name of cinema. Not only is the dialogue horrible, the logic is completely incomprehensible. Why is there a secret army no one knew about? Why does Obi-Wan traipse around the galaxy following half-baked clues like a Jedi version of Carmen Sandigo? Whyyyy? Why couldn't they just debate and decide to FORM an army, rather than have to decide whether to USE THE ONE THAT MAGICALLY APPEARS? I believed in you, George. I TRUSTED YOU, GEORGE!

The Most Offensive Ad Ever?

I saw it on rottentomatoes.com, which is a fairly reputable website, and it's advertising a major retail video game, not some Flash crap. But the ad itself... wow. Where do I even start? I'll just let you be appalled for yourself.

And double shame on you if you tried to click it. :o!

A Memory from High School: MUN

I took a Model United Nations class mostly for fun, since it would be an easy grade and I've always been interested in politics. That was around the time I was hitting my version of the senior slump, in which I just started taking classes out of fun and interest rather than a sense of obligation, particularly since I had already taken most of the classes I needed to graduate. For years, the MUN class had been taught by the father of a friend of mine, but that year a woman was teaching it who hadn't taught it before.

The overwhelming impression I have in my memory is of her humorous incompetence. It became fairly clear early on that she didn't understand Robert's Rules of Order or even much of modern politics. Being handy with a piece of news trivia or a well-crafted piece of BS would guarantee you a pass. I also remember that we were given entire class sessions with the nebulous instruction of researching the non-government organizations or countries we were meant to represent. Inevitably, those classes turned into sharing fun links with each other and trying to trick each other into going to whitehouse.com. (It was a pretty infamous porn site at the time; I'm not sure what it is now. Those were the days some people still navigated by typing in the name of what they wanted and adding a .com to it. Yes, there was internet before Google.) I remember that my friend Dima would regularly give the teacher trouble by calling her out on her ignorance, but I was particularly impressed when my friend Steve refused to do something she demanded of us since it was so childish and we were high school students. I don't remember what the task was, but that was the first time I had witnessed open rebellion from an excellent student. (Steve was, and I'm sure continues to be, a whiz in the sciences.) I also remember that, when we were told to make up fictional countries for debate, I created an impoverished country run by a theocratic Christian dictatorship. Someone else created a society dominated by robots, where humans were the slaves. Good times.

The memory that brought about this reminiscing is that, when we were getting on the buses to go to an event in another city, we were supposed to have our suits on, and I forgot. It was early in the morning, before the sun was even up, and the teacher gave me a real tongue-lashing outside the idling bus with most of the students already on board. She at first refused to even let me on the bus. It was a real ego shock for me, a reversal of power that my slip had allowed the teacher the class had until then almost completely undermined, and it stayed with me as an illustration of the way a mistake can give someone else power over me--particularly someone I had until then practically dominated.

Nothing in particular brought about this memory. It's just something I remembered.

Spartacus: Blood and Sand

I thought I would be disappointed in the highly advertised Starz TV show based on the life of Spartacus. I'm certainly not fond of the over-produced, sentimental mess that is the Kirk Douglas movie.

Watching the first episode made me a believer. The world of Spartacus is brutal, dark, and treacherous. After pitched battles with Getae, who are depicted as subhuman barbarians, that are strongly reminiscent of the best stylized violence of 300, the Thracians (of whom Spartacus is the de facto leader) decide it is better to defend their villages than follow Roman orders. The Romans, protesting that this is treason, crush the Thracians, whose village is burned by the Getae.

The first episode was particularly cinematic, with long shots of broad vistas and several creative cross-cuts from scene to scene. The scope is epic and the pacing is brisk (neither of which the show could maintain, but that's the nature of television). I enjoyed the choice of making blood spray behind the action as backdrop rather than as part of the scene, which is both awesomely over the top and stylized. That's not to say the violence isn't intense: limbs are removed and bodies are mangled.

Later episodes, once Spartacus is a gladiator, skimp more on the highly elaborate shots as well as the ultraviolence, but one has to expect that in television. The show also slows down from the sweeping majesty of total war to the day to day brutality of gladiator life; it's not a welcome change, but my disappointment at being hemmed in and hobbled by the change of scope is, I'm sure, something like Spartacus's own frustration at life as a gladiator.

Though the action tames itself somewhat and even the erotic splendor of the first episodes fades to slightly more tasteful (or less tasteless) shots, the show maintains a pacing to keep my appetite whetted like a good blade. Also, by then I had enough attachment to the characters to pull me through.

Though some of the characters are fairly detestable, even some of Spartacus's enemies are fully drawn characters. I was pleasantly surprised that Crixus, the best gladiator in the ludus that also own Spartacus, doesn't just antagonize Spartacus but also struggles to win the heart of a female slave despite his coarseness.

My biggest complaint is Spartacus's recurring visions of his wife. It's getting to the point that it's almost like "Harvey" in Farscape. That's bad.

The swearing and sex are rather too much for my taste, but the action and the surprisingly intricate drama keeps me coming back. I only hope they keep up the promise of the show by continuing to develop the plot rather than focus only on the sex and violence.

Happy Birthday, Chucky D!

Today is Charles Darwin's birthday. Unfortunately, it's difficult to wish him a happy birthday, as his theories continue to be attacked and mocked by the ignorant and superstitious. Though his theories about the origin of species were not perfect, they form the basis for evolutionary theory as we know it today. To clarify, evolution is a fact, not a theory. It is the exact process, natural selection, through which evolution occurs that is a theory, though evidence for it continues to mount.

All I can say about this is that, at a time, people believed the Earth was at the center of the solar system, so much so that they accused anyone of heresy that postulated that the Sun might instead be the center. Now, all reasonable people accept that the Earth revolves around the Sun.

It is a sad truth that superstition continues to attack science and reason. Though some may provide "evidence" to the contrary until their faces turn blue, I take heart in Galileo's (supposedly) muttered words after recanting before the Inquisiton: "Eppur si muove." Despite what men might say or believe, the Earth moves.

It is one in the morning. Do you know where your Akuma is?

There is something in a man that seeks out competition, even conflict. There is something that yearns to be the best, that seeks to defeat and destroy the opposition and see his enemies scattered at his feet. The noblest form of this pursuit is the duel, and the true modern duel is the fighting game. Well, that and martial arts.

I have never really been a Street Fighter player. Sure, there was the youthful crush in the arcade when I was around ten, followed by brief dalliances with emulators and a fling with the Capcom characters in Marvel vs. Capcom 2. The truth is, ever since I got my Dreamcast, my one true love has been Soul Calibur. Compared to Soul Calibur's dynamic rhythm of dance, Street Fighter is a combo frenzy, more brutal and less artistic. Plus Soul Calibur had weapons and a late medieval theme, while Street Fighter has offensive stereotypes. As a young man, I played Soul Calibur for hours on end, beating every single mission in the first game (even the ones that warned you how difficult they were) and logging untold hours on Soul Calibur, Soul Calibur 2, and Soul Calibur 4. We skipped 3. Not sure why.

My Soul Competitur moved away a few years ago, however, and my circle of friends are Street Fighter fans. So, like a boxer teaching himself jujitsu so he can get into MMA, I had to teach myself Street Fighter IV. It was a struggle, especially considering some of my friends have been playing Street Fighter at least as long as I've been playing Soul Calibur, and their power level is right around, say, NINE THOUSAAAAND. But if this was the way I was going to get my fighting, I would see it through.

I learned quickly that the charge characters are completely contrary to my brain's way of processing moves, so I switched to the circle characters. I also had the advantage of having played Darkstalkers as a teenager, which taught me all the basic circle moves (half roll forward, tap forward+half roll forward, double attack buttons for EX moves, etc.). (I know Darkstalkers also has charge characters. But those characters suck.)

After experimenting with a few of the characters, I settled on Akuma. Above all other reasons, he is the ultimate badass, a fireball-flinging maniac with glowing red eyes and a supervillain's sense of superiority over the human race. Plus his super move is identical to Morrigan's from Darkstalkers, which is also a plus.

Though I have worked to forge myself into a warrior in this new art, I have continued to lag behind, getting increasingly frustrated along the way as I saw Akuma hit the dust again and again. Finally, I made a decision. In order to be the very best with Akuma, I would set myself the goal of beating all of his hard trials. (This would also give me some nifty icons to use for myself in online multiplayer, which is lovely.) This was quite some task, as I was still struggling with the normal trials.

Trials are a series of combos of increasing complexity that you have to perform on a standing opponent. Some are frustratingly hard. Others are even more difficult.

I finally beat the normal trials, sometimes taking as much as half an hour per trial, but then I moved on to the first hard trial. And I could not do it. I spent two hours late into one night trying without success. I just couldn't pull off the focus cancel move in time. Every time I was either too late with it or the focus attack would go off instead of cancelling into another move, wasting too much time.

But I was driven. Like a dog with his teeth in his prize, I did not want to let go. Like that boxer after getting his face pounded out of shape his first night of MMA, I refused to let it get the better of me. I was going to become a warrior, no matter how much longer it took. I tried again the next morning for another hour without success. And more that night, with building frustration and swearing, alternating soothing Akuma to console him on his failure and threatening him to shape up or else. Finally, by what felt like pure luck, I did it. After copious pelvic thrusting and a victory dance I was ashamed even my TV could see, I moved on.

The next trials brought the same level of frustration. I would try for hours, take a break, and come back. My brain was aching. I was learning to string together moves from pure muscle memory, though even then it was a matter of trying it over and over until all the stars aligned and it went off perfectly. The third trial was relatively easy, and the fourth was a matter of getting the tricky timing down. Then it came down to the fifth and last trial.

It was brutal. To say the timing was split-second would be an understatement: even a fraction of a second would have given me some leeway, and this sadistic trial gave me none. If it's true that the jiffy is the very shortest possible measure of time, then I was measuring the timing in jiffies. Not only that, but I had to stand the character in the exact right place. EXACT. Too close, and he would do the wrong move. Too far away, and the move wouldn't land.

It went on for hours. I didn't eat. Papers went ungraded. I told myself I would stop at 7. Then 8. Then midnight. I practiced each step of the sequence individually and in tandem with the steps around it. I had to get every move down perfectly. My thumbs changed colors. They became sore, then numb.

"It's not your fault, Akuma. I know you're trying."

"Damn you, Akuma! Just do what I tell you!"

"Are you playing with me, Akuma? Is this fun for you? Do you like to see me hurt?"

"I just don't know if this relationship is going to work, Akuma."

"I'm sorry, Akuma. Don't be cross. You know I don't mean any of those hurtful things I said."

And copious swearing.

Finally, at precisely 1:01 in the morning, I did it. Through some random chance, through some combination of providence and sheer tenacity, because even if I can pull it off only once in ten thousand tries it has to go off right some time, I did it. And then I went to bed.

I wish I could say that I don't feel a sense of accomplishment, that I realized at the end how empty and meaningless succeeding at a video game is. I know none of this translates into real world skills and I can't put "Passed all of Akuma's Hard Trials in Street Fighter IV" on my resume. I know in twenty years no one will care about Street Fighter.

But I do feel accomplishment. I set myself on a task that seemed almost impossible and I did it. My thumbs are still hurting, as I'm reminded every time I tap the spacebar. I wouldn't be at all surprised if some facts about plate tectonics or the Cambrian explosion or the Hapsburg dynasty have been displaced in favor of the exact timing of Light Hurricane Kick -> Gorshoryuken. But I did it. Akuma is supreme. I am Akuma.

By the way, I also beat the game on Hardest Difficulty. But that was nothing compared to this.

((PS I know Akuma is called Gouki in Japan, but I don't care. These are the facts: M. Bison is white, Vega wears a mask, and Balrog is a boxer. While we're at it, I'll probably always say "Rye-you" rather than "Ree-you". That's just the way it is. Oh, and I did grade the papers during a break in gaming. I may be driven, but I'm not negligent.))

HAPPY ROBERT E. HOWARD DAY

TODAY I WILL WRITE MY BLOG IN ALL CAPS TO SIMULATE ME YELLING THE WAY ROBERT E. HOWARD USED TO YELL WHEN HE WAS WRITING HIS STORIES ON HIS TYPEWRITER. ROBERT E. HOWARD WAS BORN ON JANUARY 22 (OR 24, DEPENDING ON THE DOCUMENTATION YOU LOOK AT). AT ANY RATE, AS YOU HAVE PROBABLY NOTICED IF YOU READ THIS BLOG, BOB HOWARD IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITERS. HE DIDN'T HAVE THE TECHNICAL SKILL OF YOUR TOLSTOYS OR YOUR DICKENSES, AND HE CERTAINLY DOESN'T ENJOY THE POPULARITY OF TOLKIEN (WHO I WOULD ON ANY OTHER DAY NOT DARE TO CALL INFERIOR TO HOWARD FOR FEAR OF UPSETTING THE FANBOYS, BUT BY CROM, ON HIS BIRTHDAY I MIGHT AS WELL COME OUT AND SAY IT: HOWARD WAS THE BETTER WRITER), BUT HIS STORIES ARE FILLED WITH ADVENTURE, EXOTIC LOCATIONS, AND LARGER THAN LIFE CHARACTERS WHO NOT ONLY LEAP BUT FLYING AXE-CHOP OFF THE PAGE. MANY OF THE TROPES HE ORIGINATED BECAME FANTASY CLICHES. CONAN THE CIMMERIAN IS OBVIOUSLY THE MOST WELL KNOWN OF HIS CREATIONS, BUT MANY OF HIS WORKS STILL INFLUENCE WRITERS INDIRECTLY TODAY--THE IMAGE OF THE PURITAN-DRESSED HERO FIGHTING EVIL WHICH WE SEE IN EVERYTHING FROM WARHAMMER TO VAN HELSING STARTED WITH HOWARD'S SOLOMON KANE.

phew okay gotta get a cup of water

ROBERT E. HOWARD AND I DO NOT SEEM TO HAVE MUCH IN COMMON. HE LIVED HIS WHOLE LIFE IN TEXAS, AND I HAVE NEVER HAD MUCH AFFINITY FOR THE SOUTH. HE WAS AN AVID SPORTSMAN AND AN ACCOMPLISHED AMATEUR BOXER, AND I SOMETIMES HAVE TROUBLE OPENING TRICKY PACKAGING. HE BELIEVED IN THE NOBILITY OF SAVAGES AND HATED CIVILIZATION, WHILE I BELIEVE TRUE CIVILIZATION IS THE PEAK OF HUMAN EXISTENCE. ON THE OTHER HAND, WE BOTH LOVE HISTORY, THE IMAGINATION, AND ADVENTURE. WE BOTH LOVED BOOKS FROM AN EARLY AGE (LEGENDS SAY HOWARD SNEAKED INTO LIBRARIES AFTER DARK AS A BOY, TOOK OUT BOOKS TO READ AND MAKE NOTES FROM, AND RETURNED THEM THE SAME WAY DAYS LATER). PERHAPS MOST OF ALL, WE BOTH FELT WE WERE BORN IN THE WRONG TIME, AND FOUND A WAY OF EXPRESSING OURSELVES IN BOOKS AND WRITING THAT THE REAL WORLD DOES NOT PROVIDE.

HOWARD IS TRULY A LEGEND, A MAN WHO CREATED SOME DAMN BRILLIANT FICTION AND CHARACTERS THAT HAVE STOOD THE TEST OF TIME. PERHAPS I WILL 'OUTGROW' MY FASCINATION WITH HIM AND HIS CHARACTERS, BUT ALL THE GODS, I HOPE NOT!

REST IN PEACE, BOB HOWARD. YOUR LEGACY LIVES ON.

Edit: of all the tributes to Howard I've read today, this is so far my favorite

Dragons are the Bad Guys

Just a brief note to all writers and filmmakers out there. Dragons are not lonely and misunderstood, the victims of ignorance and superstition. They are not majestic creatures filled with magic and wonder. They are particularly not talking friends of humans.

Dragons are the villains. They symbolize cruelty, greed, and gluttony. They are the ultimate challenge, the ultimate threat, and the ultimate proof of heroism. If you take away the need to kill dragons, you take away part of what makes a hero great. Heroes need mighty foes, and the mightiest foes are dragons.

Also, if dragons are friendly and beautiful, they're just a step above ponies, and we really don't want that.

The Conan Video Game

I'm not reviewing the MMO, for reasons I stated earlier. Instead, I'm reviewing the game for the 360 and PS3.

When I found it used for twelve bucks at GameStop, I wasn't expecting much. I thought it would be some vague attempt at creating a fantasy game with the name tacked onto it, something completely un-Conan with orcs and elves and crap like that. I expected awful graphics, awkward controls, and a storyline that stuck to the source material about as closely as Conan the Destroyer did. Which means not at all.

But I was surprised to find that wasn't the case. The game actually stuck more closely to the original stuff than the books did. Conan looked and acted like Conan should, even throwing out brash quips when he kills his enemies that sound like something straight out of Robert E. Howard, such as "Let Crom judge you" and "I'll cleave your skull to the teeth!"

The storyline was vaguely Conan-esque. My only complaint was that Conan, like many heroes in video games these days, loses his powers after the first mission and has to use experience points to recover them. For some reason, the pieces of his armor are also imbued with magical spells, which he can use as he recovers them piece by piece. As any fan will know, Conan never uses magic. But really, magical power (let's just call it mana) is very rare and the spells aren't much more effective than a good piece of steel, so that does make up for it somewhat.

If you've played God of War, you don't need to know anything to play Conan. The control system is ripped directly from the other game. It's derivitive to the point that it can hardly even be called a different game; the only 'difference' is that Conan can pick up and use the weapons of his enemies. Everything else is precisely the same as God of War. Don't get me wrong; I love a little Kratos action, but Conan could have used his own control system, something more reckless and swashbuckly. Most of the time, the camera behaves and the controls work, but they do sometimes get awkward. Particularly annoying is the need to tap a button to climb walls, and if you don't tap the button quickly, you casually release (and usually fall to your death).

Ron Perlman does the voice of Conan and Claudia Black does the romantic interest, which really lends the game a leg up. Sadly, the graphics don't match; despite this being a PS3/360 title, the graphics don't look any better than many PS2 games I've played.

The stages feel nice and Conan-y, from savage-infested jungles to sand-swallowed cities. At one point, Conan seems to travel to ancient Greece, which felt completely wrong because the Hyborian age is thousands of years before Greece ever existed. But hey, even Howard borrowed from time periods up to the age of piracy, so it's hard to be critical of that. (Conan even appears in one story wearing a buttoned coat and a tricorne hat.) A particular joy was a demon-worshipping cult in a cave that kept killer gorillas. (Howard included gorillas as villains almost as often as he used snakes.)

One surprising pleasure was the boss fights. Apart from the interminable final fight in which you have to repeat the same process four times to defeat the end boss, the boss fights are all unique and interesting. Half the time, it's more about solving puzzles than about button mashing. The game does incorporate push-button cutscenes, which I hate, but you can't have everything.

Because of the gratuitously topless women and the over-the-top gore, the game will appeal only to a limited number of fans. Robert E. Howard himself was never above making a buck from his own creations at the price of the world's 'integrity,' so I can see him approving of this game. Though it's derivitive, there are worse ways to spend ten bucks.