Sunday, November 23, 2008

Notes on Kim Stanley Robinson's Forty Signs of Rain

I just finished reading Kim Stanley Robinson's Forty Signs of Rain, which is the first book in the Science in the Capitol series. It's really first rate science-fiction in the sense that I sometimes lament seems to be less popular, nowadays. The post-cyberpunk authors, and the new wave of space opera authors, don't seem to have a lot of interest in addressing problems in the world. Well, anyone who knows Robinson's work knows that he doesn't have that problem, but Forty Signs of Rain is about one of the most fascinating, and largely undocumented, parts of science - how political policy commands science.

The normal narrative of science is that scientists are largely free to follow their own interests. That's absolute nonsense. Science takes money to do, often huge amounts of it. Almost all of this money comes from the government - particularly the National Science Foundation and DARPA. (The distinction between the NSF and DARPA is wholly bookkeeping - they work together and for the same purposes, mostly.) The brute facts of it is that unless a scientist can convince a Washington bureaucrat to give them money, science doesn't get done. And another brute fact is that all government funding organizations have an agenda - both the NSF and DARPA were created to fund science that is useful in national defense. This is the reason why quantum physicists get billions to build particle accelerators while astrophysicists are often broke - the electronics and nuclear angles of quantum physics is seen as being better for national defense than relativity despite the theoretical strength of relativity (which largely exceeds quantum physics). As a result, government bureaucrats basically get to decide what the truth is - by funding some elements of science and neglecting others they're instrumental in creating scientific truth, in deciding what scientific truth is.

Robinson's book is the only sci-fi book I can think of that addresses the intersection between science and the government. Even tho' he doesn't really talk about DARPA and how the NSF and DARPA work together to fund projects - so far DARPA literally hasn't come up - the book talks about how science, well, gets screwed by the government that funds it. And how scientists are largely ignored by the government if the science flies in the face of government policy.

He also addresses how private science works and its effects on science, particularly in the form of biotechnology. He puts it out - that "private science" is basically anti-scientific. The ownership of scientific ideas is just bad for science, because for science to work there has to be huge amounts of openness.

He does this against the backdrop of global climate change (the most recurring theme in his work), which is where the science-fiction elements come in. He doesn't merely tell a story about the NSF and private science firms and their hijinx. He does what he does better than just about any other writer - he creates weather disasters that must be addressed. Forty Signs of Rain does not actually address them, that's for the later books in the series, obviously, so it's more accurate to say that Forty Signs of Rain is about how the government, despite overwhelming information and proof, is simply not moving to address climate change.

The book is inherently optimistic. One of the disasters that strikes is a flooded Washington, DC. Despite the book having been written in 2001, the scenes as described could be about New Orleans. As part of the science-fiction, however, he proposes that a disaster of such magnitude would actually motivate the government to do something about climate change. Well, maybe if it happened in Washington and not New Orleans it would have - but after having a largish American city all but wiped off the map the government was able to keep it's head in the sand about it.

Still, I find the book noteworthy because it attempts to address the intersection of science and government, and this intersection is absolutely vital to understand to understand how science gets used and misused in the United States. Almost all science is publicly funded, and the policymakers know next to nothing about science, and science operates on the command of people who are ignorant about science - indeed, usually science advisers are selected not for their knowledge of science but their adherence to existing policies about science. You know the sort, the Bush administration officials who have manipulated the science about evolution and the climate to push the conservative anti-science agenda, where any science that flies in the face of their religion or business model is torn down.

Beyond that, it really made me wonder why academics don't go into politics. Not just scientists, either, but also liberal arts professionals. You can be a lawyer, accountant or even an actor and be a big shot in politics - but no writers, no scientists, no philosophers go into politics. It makes me curious as to why. I know some of it is that it's considered gauche for academics to go into politics - it interferes with the purity of their research. But, with science, there's nearly no part of public policy that isn't effected by science. It seems to me that politicians with real knowledge about how science works, what science can do and can't do, who understand the process in which science gets done, well, we'd want, as a community, for such people to get involved in politics. The same is roughly true of any academian - intelligent, well-educated people with knowledge that directly intersects public policy in a number of crucial ways. Yet, none of them seem to be interested in political office. Even Noam Chomsky, amongst the most political of scientists living, has never sought public office.

Some people think that Americans won't vote for someone that educated, that an academic will make them feel stupid by comparison and they'll avoid that. Well, a lot of people also thought that Indiana wouldn't ever go for Barack Obama because he was black. I think it's an insult to the intelligence of American people to think that we, generally, fear clever people. No, I think that a great number of us would be reassured by someone who actually knew what the hell he or she was saying!

So, that said, I call on Neil DeGrasse Tyson to step forward and become a politician. He's a well spoken science educator and physicist who can speak directly to lay audiences about complex scientific issues in comprehensive and informative ways without appearing to talk down to anyone. C'mon, Neil, what do you say?

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Notes on Charles Stross' Accelerando

I just got done reading Accelerando by Charles Stross and I'm gonna talk about it! Since I actually like the book, I'm not going to give any spoilers. Or I think I won't.

It's a big, sprawling post-cyberpunk novel about three or so generations of post-humans. That's the big thing with modern science fiction writers - post-humans. Y'know, what's left of humanity after we've used biotechnology and cybernetics to move ourselves well past the limitations of our flesh, and the new sentient species that will develop in such an environment, AIs, uplifted animals, things like that.

The characters are generally interesting, if not always likable, and enough happens to keep a body interested. One of the problems a lot of science-fiction writers have is that characterization is often fairly irrelevant to the book, but Stross' characters are people and he spends a fair bit of time developing relationships in believable ways (albeit with technology that is nigh magical).

Stross' language is very high brow. I actually had to look up a couple of words, which is pretty rare for me at this stage of the game. Accelerando is also written in the present tense. This makes his language a fair bit pretentious - but it's mitigated by his generally straightforward grammatical structure. Yeah, he uses a lot of big words and everything is present tense, but otherwise his writing style is pretty tight which makes it readable - perhaps even a little good, at least the big words part, because it projects competence.

It is also a book that is about a lot of things and then, curiously, nothing much at all. This is, alas, a big problem with science-fiction.

First, the book is crammed with ideas. Part of the book addresses the Fermi paradox. One day some folks were talking about the possibility of superintelligent alien life and Enrico Fermi chimed in, "Then why haven't they come around for a visit?" It's a false paradox. It's superficially easy to imagine why superintelligent aliens haven't stopped by for a visit - the universe is a big place being at the top of the list. Others include, y'know, "They have, we just didn't notice it. Or we don't believe the people who have seen it." But it's something that, when projecting oneself into the future, mentally speaking, as a science-fiction writer must often done, sounds intriguing. Why haven't superintelligent aliens come by, lately?

The second big idea that he tackles is the idea of a technological singularity. It's simply a fact that the rate of technological development has skyrocketed in the past, say, couple hundred years. People who believe in a technological singularity believe that at some point the speed of technological advance will become so rapid and deep that it is impossible to really imagine what they'll be doing with it. (Whether or not this is true depends on a great deal; I, myself, don't know if it'll happen because I don't think we have enough information to meaningfully talk about it, but it's called science-fiction for a reason, right?) What will happen to people, to humans, if a singularity hits?

There's a lot of other stuff, too. Like . . . future shock! It goes on and on.

Second, the book is full of weirdness. Which I like. The future is likely to really weird. Cavemen wouldn't understand the least little bit about our society, and it's commonplace that barbarians do not understand advanced technical civilizations - you can see the future shock in Mongol armies faced with Chinese civilization in the 13th century. They didn't understand what the Chinese were doing, and it was seriously suggested that they kill all the peasants to lessen their profound future shock. So, it's probably impossible for a science-fiction writer to write something that's "too weird". Even if they get the details wrong, and they will of course, the weirdness will probably be about right.

Third, the book is full of superhuman intelligences. Indeed, it's full of vast, inscrutable intelligences.

So, what comes out of this? The book is frantically paced. Stross keeps hitting you with weirdness and ideas, interleaved with personal melodrama, and its easy to be staggered by it all.

But, in the end, I'm not sure that the book ended up being about anything at all. Sure, a lot of ideas were touched on, but at the same time about a trillion plot threads were still in the air. And, ultimately, despite being about these post-humans, while things were weird, Stross is trapped by being a human trying to imagine things smarter than he is - smarter than anyone is. Despite the weirdness, and despite assertions of futurism, the big ideas are actually all pretty modern - stuff like anarcho-capitalism, which has been a staple of science-fiction since the first days of the cyberpunk movement (and has its roots back in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, though at the time the term anarcho-capitalism didn't exist it's clearly what they've got on Luna). But, really, what could you expect? Stross is, himself, just a human, like the rest of us.

He also seems to lack the courage of his convictions. When you have transcendentally intelligent beings, described as being "weakly godlike", it's . . . absurd for the humans to even remotely guess what they're doing. The comparison is between a human's intelligence and a tapeworm's intelligence. I don't imagine that a tapeworm goes around accurately assessing what humans are doing, but some of that goes on, too, in Accelerando.

That said, the book is smart and has interesting characters. And while, perhaps, I'm a little less future shocked than many of my peers and find many of the ideas in the book passe - for crying out loud, try to imagine a future society that isn't anarcho-capitalism! - the book is going to provoke thought from anyone who has even a passing interest in futurism. So, if you're in for a weird future in a smartly written science-fiction book with strong, if not stellar, characterizations, you should take a look at Stross' Accelerando.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

In the future, there are zombies - notes on Dead Space

I just got done playing Dead Space on the PS3. Dead Space, for those of you who do not know, is a third person shooter video game from Electronic Arts that takes place, largely, on a mining ship whose crew have been turned into zombies. The main character - Isaac Clarke - goes around dismembering them with power tools. My favorite is the remote industrial saw.

First . . . Isaac Clarke? Sheesh. Neither Isaac Asimov nor Arthur Clarke wrote horror! I think a better name would have been H. P. Bradbury. Oh, well, they didn't ask me, hehe.

Second, the consistent message from video games is that the future will bring with it zombies. Be in Halo, Half-Life or Dead Space, it appears that zombies are our future. Who knew?

Third, to get to something resembling a review . . . Dead Space is Resident Evil 4 in space. No, really! If you liked RE4, you'll like Dead Space - and a lot of people liked Resident Evil 4 so I figure this game will be pretty popular. But just about everything is taken from RE4, except the setting. The character goes around at normal speed, or running, you can't fire like that - to fire, you have to get into your firing stance, raise your weapon, which all have laser sights to tell you where you're going to hit. With your weapon raised, you move and pan slowly and your field of vision narrows. So none of the run and spray tactics that most shooters have - you generally select a position, fire, and then run to a new position if you need to.

The horror in the game is . . . well, it's pretty typical. All horror shooters just really crank up the gore, they have moody music, and Dead Space isn't any different in that regard. The sound is good. All the weapons are jarring to use, loud and sudden.

The game - like I said, a clone of RE 4 in many ways - also has monsters jump out at you from all over. While it's true that startling isn't the same as horror, there's a reason so many horror movies startle their audiences. Dead Space is an almost constant series of startling events. Monsters are constantly jumping out, jumping down, popping out from behind you. Constantly.

For me, there was a little too much jumping out. The game is clearly designed for the "hard core" set.

An aside: the people with the greatest tolerance to stress out of all professions are professional video gamers. They handle stress better than air traffic controllers and trauma physicians. So, by inference, even non-professional hard core gamers are pretty inured to stress. They don't much feel it. Which is why hard core gamers will dig on the monsters jumping out at them - they aren't startled in particular.

I'm not hard core, so after a while it was a little . . . wearing. So wearing that I decided to finish the game on the easy setting because the game is quite good at making every moment feel like it might be your last. A little too good for me.

Also, like most games that are pure shooter, there gets to be a little monotony, which combined with the constant startling nature of the game, the constant need to have your character scan the environment for enemies - the fact that nowhere, not even rooms with save points in them, are really safe - can get slightly numbing. Something other than just shooting might have been nice.

Still, the game did have nice flourishes. They do have some interesting zero gravity things, jumping around from surface to surface - but even then, maybe especially then, it was an opportunity for zombies to come at you in new and interesting ways. You had even more possible places that they can come at you from. The game also offered a few puzzles, but they were a tiny fraction of the game. It's mostly a shooter.

The game also has an inventory system. You have to choose between healing resources and ammo. I wasn't thrilled with that, any more than I was thrilled with it in Resident Evil 4. I don't think detailed resource allocation is horrific. Or even interesting. Yes, it's unbelievable to be able to carry around fifteen weapons and a million rounds of ammo and a dozen health packs. But you know what else is not particular realistic? Zombies. Zombies are not realistic. Indeed, at this juncture, they're becoming a little trite.

The game is also attractive. It has a grim, blood-splattered, moodily lit sci-fi setting. The game is also claustrophobic, reminding me of Alien - which is probably what they were trying to go for.

And, lastly, and perhaps most amusingly, other than the message that in the future there will be zombies, the game also teaches that Scientology turns people into zombies. Oh, excuse me, Unitology. I was amused at the Scientology turns people into zombies angle.

All said and done, I give the game a B. It's a well-executed game, but to get a really high mark a shooter has to have more than shooting in it nowadays. Dead Space is a little too much one note, and the stress levels on the game are outrageous which might lend a horror aspect to it but makes the game draining.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Gears of War

I'm slow. Gears of War 2 comes out in a couple of days and I just finished Gears of War. I started to play it 18 months ago or so but it didn't capture me, then. It was . . . y'know, a shooter.

For me, game play is paramount and the shooter interface for Gears of War is real good. The characters move believably from cover to cover. But, in the end, it was just a shooter game. The game play was swiped almost entirely from kill.switch - a deeply mediocre game - and with all "tactical shooters" Gears of War suffers from a lack of variety. You kill something, you go to the next area and you kill s'more guys. There are a few cut scenes, but the characters are never developed and, even at the end, I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing or why I was doing it - other than, y'know, there was an ugly alien enemy whose genocide was the point of the game. I got that.

Am I the only person who finds the prevalence of genocide in these kinds of games disturbing? Just about every sci-fi shooter there is seems to incorporate genocide as the only legitimate end of the conflict! It's pretty disturbing, but that's the goal of Gears of War. Wipe out the ugly enemies.

There's one scene where you have to drive a vehicle. One. Makes me wonder why the bothered to put it in! And just when you think you might get to drive another vehicle . . . just another lame cut scene.

So, while the graphics were good, and the shooting interface was good, the game suffers - like many shooters - from monotony. Go down another corridor. Kill another horde of faceless enemies. Move on.

That kind of ethos is becoming increasingly rare, too. Most shooter games - such as the Halo and Half-Life 2 games - throw some vehicles into the mix. Halo and the Half-Life games also have something else that Gears of War almost entirely lacks: a story. Oh, sure, Halo's story is kind of de rigeur and contrived - evil aliens to destroy in an environment that's gonna blow at any second - but it's there. Half-Life 2's story is actually reasonably cool, and it has Alix and Dog and Alix and Dog are amongst the coolest video game characters ever. But who is Marcus Fenix and why should we care about him and his tiny headed friends? What is the world they're on and why are these guys coming out of the ground to kill them? Who fuckin' knows. I don't and I played the game.

Well, not all of the game. I decided that the final boss was just too annoying to beat. Maybe if I had any investment whatsoever in the characters, setting or outcome - which I read online and is deeply predictable - I would have slogged through to the end. The final boss in almost any video game is going to be annoyingly difficult, because most game designers mistake "difficult" for "interesting". Undoubtedly, many gamers, particularly those who identify as "hardcore", like hard games, much like marathoners like running 26 miles at a stretch. I'm a pretty casual gamer and I've long learned that any cut scene I want to see I can find on YouTube, so skipping the last, stupidly difficult fight that overturns any sense of verisimilitude for being "tactical" that might have been created in the previous play of the game - like, why would a cloud of bats stop machinegun fire? - is pretty easy for me.

So, all said and done, Gears of War is about a B-. It has some pretty good parts but overall it's not really a great game, and is only barely a good one.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Dungeons & Dragons 4th

I ran a session of D&D 4 yesterday, and some notes!

The game is with adapted characters from D&D 3.5. I only have two players in the game. In D&D 3.5, one of the characters was a complex sheet of three different character classes - two regular classes and a prestige class - and the second was a paladin with a prestige class. They got folded into her being a rogue and him being a paladin. There was some concern that they'd "feel different", but I don't think that's a big problem because now by "feel different" we really mean "much more interesting combat than they were". Which is all we did - combat, hehe. We had two, as I called them, "contextless combat encounters" so that when we played the game on normal adventure stuff they wouldn't be overwhelmed by the options that their characters presented. There are quite a few options, might I add. Heck, you can just go to the wiki and see for yourselves. Antarah's sheet, in particular, is "verbose". His word. :) The character sheets are pretty rugged but I've always felt a little dissatisfied with how pedestrian D&D characters feel in terms of natural ability and don't inflict it on my players - so they're probably about a level or maybe even two "better" than their actual levels suggest.

The first encounter was the sort of generalized, fairly disorganized encounter that is de rigeur for 80% or more of D&D encounters. Y'know. The characters come on the scene with an erratically placed group of monsters and they fight. In this case, two wyverns, an ettin marauder and a poison-eyed basilisk. What were they doing in a snowy field? Who cares. Contextless combat encounters, hehe. The encounter was a normal encounter for a group of players that size.

The second encounter was a couple levels lower, but it had characters in an entrenched position - down a corridor and up some stairs to a room. The stairs had been covered with rubble to slow the characters, and at the top of the stair there was a picket. And before the rubble there was a pit trap. Whackiness ensued.

The first fight they basically just rolled over. They crushed it. In playing D&D 4, that's been my experience with encounters of equal level - the PCs generally tear through them pretty easily. The rogue sneaks ahead, gets a surprise round, probably gets a couple of sneak attacks before anyone can freakin' move to carve out a big chunk of hit points from a foe, and they're already in a position to flank with the rest of the party. It was like a meat grinder.

The second fight, despite the encounter being two levels under the level of the PCs, by far proved the more challenging encounter (a couple of orc bloodrager brutes, two tiefling heretic artilleries with a couple of levels added on them and a foulspawn grue controller). They used up virtually every healing resources they had - all their encounter powers, all their daily healing powers, almost everything. And because the enemy were alert with sentinels and a tightly controlled initial environment, the rogue couldn't do any of her tricks. They had considerable difficulty getting past the pit - an NPC was captured in the pit for, like, three turns - and over the barricade. Even once they broke through, the melee was initially contained by the monster melee fighters. It was not a meat grinder. Indeed, if the monsters had been the same level as the player characters, it might have been a meat grinder in the other direction. Which was indeed sort of the point - I wanted to see how, y'know, intelligent enemies in a fortified position would do, but weak enough that the PCs would be almost assured victory.

We played the combat encounters on our laptops using MapTool 1.2 from RPTools. It's a free Java applet that allows me to make a map on my computer over here and then they can both connect to my computer and we can move tokens on that map, etc., completely replacing a traditional battlemat. And the Internet has allowed me to download roughly two hundred maps, too.

The players said they had fun, which is good. They both liked that their characters had a lot of "things to do". The powers for the various character classes also pretty strongly give themes to the classes. Adrienne said it, herself, "All a rogue's powers are so selfish." Whereas the paladin's powers aren't. They're all about helping allies, drawing fire and such.

From the GM's perspective, when going into D&D 4 I was deeply concerned because a lot of the monsters have been changed - esp. the high level ones - to remove a lot of their supernatural powers. Almost all spells and spell-like effects are just gone. But in play, I found I didn't care - when a monster has a laundry list of supernatural powers, well, you don't end up using most of them, after all. And for non-combat purposes there's always GM fiat! Rather than saying the monster used their charm person spell, I can say they charmed the person some other way. And the monsters are divided into roles that make it easy to build a "monster party" with the soldiers and brutes protecting the artillery and controllers. Additionally, adding in the concept for minions, elites and solo monsters provides even more utility and flexibility for the monsters.

This is where the game has been most obviously influenced by MMOs, too. Minions allow a GM to create trash mobs while elites and solo monsters allow one to create mini-bosses and bosses.

And I LOVE minions. They can be of any level, but they are dispatched by any successful attack executed by them. So you can finally have the king's elite guard be all 12th level fighters without all the burden that brought in previous games - like the rogues' being unable to incapacitate them in one blow, which made stealth-based games almost impossible. Guards rogues could kill in one blow wouldn't ever notice a rogue and if a guard saw a rogue, there was simply no real way for a rogue to stop that guard from alerting other people. But now a rogue can get spotted, and if they win init most of them can be removed in one quick strike. You can now sorta play, y'know, Sam Fisher characters, and everyone should know how I have a boy crush on Sam Fisher!

So, all in all, I think that - at least in terms of combat - D&D 4 is simply a clear and obvious improvement over D&D 3.5.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Hot Wet Planet

Thanks to the beautiful people at Fandom Wank, I discovered this thread over at RPG.net about a game called, ahem, Hot Wet Planet. It's pretty much as horrible as it sounds. Or as Darren MacLennen put it, "You can develop your writing skills by playing a dumb barbarian, a rape victim or a tentacle monster."

Here are two "attribute scores":

Attr = Attractiveness, beauty, appearance. It's chosen as -2, -1, +0. +1, +2, etc... It may not be more negative than a -2 for any player-character. +0 is normal, but still considered attractive by human standards. For female characters, Attr adds to Def when they are attacked with harmful intentions (such as somebody trying to kill them or injure them), but subtracts from Def when they are attacked with lustful intentions.

So, if you're a woman, being hot means that you can't be killed, but you can be raped.

HWPE = Hot Wet Planet Effect, which is an overall level of the Hot Wet Planet's mysterious energy influence upon the character. The higher the HWPE, also the higher the character's libido & constant arousal (more than exponentially increased for each level up), but also HWPE can add to Psi for "danger-sense", and makes it less likely that the character will be attacked for the purpose of becoming a meal. On the negative side, a higher HWPE makes it more difficult to resist the Hot Wet Planet's mental & emotional effects. A higher HWPE for the guys makes them more aggressive, domineering, sexist towards the girls, more likely to fight each other, etc... A higher HWPE for the girls makes them more submissive, more shy & easily embarrassed, a lot hornier & wetter (all the time), less able to cover themselves, and overwhelms their willpower to force them to flirt & sexually expose themselves - even when they don't want to, nor intend to - and magnifies pleasurable sensations. The mental & emotional effects can be countered by Det.

And some more game text!

In addition, some unidentifiable element of the environment is changing the survivors, eroticising them, making the females constantly horny yet more shy at the same time, more youthful, more like a guy's wet-dream fantasy, and removing all their body hair from their neck to their toes. The guys get bigger dicks, muscles, a penchant for crude violence, and that sort of thing, as if the planet was turning the men into barbarian warriors.

In the background, unknown at least at first to the Offworlder survivors, the planet's higher lifeforms have a simple mass-mind that is using it's powerful psionics to mentally influence and sometimes dominate the humans in lecherous ways, having it's strongest effect on the females (who gain the benefit of being occasionally protected, & subtly forewarned about real dangers); many of the younger (or younger appearing) women discover they are incapable of wearing underwear, or any kind of pants, or even anything more covering than an indecently short tunic or mini-dress...and the effect is becoming stronger with the passing of time.

Then there are the Tentacle Monsters to contend with....the size of a small car or as large as a house, in many shapes and forms, but always having phallic tentacles and a sexual obsession with humanoid females.


What more needs to be said? But, on dear lord in heaven in whom I don't believe, a great deal more is said. The author of this game is offended at people's offense, apparently living in a world where publicly discussing wanting to pretend to be a rapist tentacle monster is socially acceptable. Still, it's handled with the typical RPG.net subtlety of trolling the person, flaming them, and then banning them, but, hey, it's RPG.net. That's why people go, I guess. But, yes, a great, great deal more is said.

This hobby is depraved, isn't it?

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Planet Hulk and World War Hulk

I just got done reading the Planet Hulk and World War Hulk storyline. And . . . well, I've got some comments on it and the nature of heroism and villainy in Marvel comics.

First, in Planet Hulk - or at least in the Illuminati stuff that preceded it - Doctor Strange, Mister Fantastic, Iron Man and Black Bolt decide to take the Hulk and shoot him into outer space. The only person who objects is Namor.

OK, let's make this clear. None of these people had the right to do this. They kidnapped the Hulk. That's just the plain truth. Was he a danger? Oh, sure, some of the time, definitely. He also did a number of good things, too, and much of the bad he did was done under a variety of duress.

I believe the point they were trying to raise was . . . how do you handle power when the government can't do it. That's sort of the subtext of all superhero comics. The legal authorities can't handle things so superheroes, generally unaffiliated with the government, fill the gap. Y'know, the military can't handle Magneto so the X-Men come in and do that, or whatever.

However, traditionally, superheroes were very reactive and employed a minimum amount of force to handle the situation (and place the well-being of civilians above everything else). They don't do pre-emptive strikes. They went to great lengths not to kill anyone. They took extraordinary care to avoid civilian casualties. What I would say the traditionally accepted justification for this is the authorities would regard seeking out fights as vigilantism - but a citizen is allowed to act to save themselves and others in a crisis situation. Going out and finding Norman Osborn and beating him up before he does something wrong is vigilantism. Preventing him from blowing up the Thanksgiving Day Parade is just being a good citizen.

So, Fantastic, Black Bolt, Iron Man and Dr. Strange violated that precept. Furthermore, I mean, if you're gonna do something like that . . . the Hulk? Most of of the time, y'know, the Hulk is hitting the right person or acting in self-defense. We're not talking the Red Skull, here, but a nice guy in a horrible situation. What they did was kidnapping.

But it wasn't just kidnapping. To trick Bruce Banner - a very clever person - into being shot into space, they misappropriated an android of Nick Fury. I . . . I mean, uh, SHIELD is this big, important para-military organization in the MU. They impersonated an officer, they almost certainly broke a dozen security clearance issues, they misappropriated SHIELD resources - just this really big laundry list of security violations. The kind of stuff that would get a person prison time.

Or to break it down in a different way, what would be the reaction of heroes if Doctor Doom reprogrammed an android of Nick Fury in order to kidnap the Hulk and shoot him into outer space?

Or to break it down even further: Marvel decided to turn Strange, Black Bolt, Tony Stark and Reed Richards into villains. They violated a whole raft of laws to kidnap Bruce Banner and they shot him into space.

Then it goes wrong. I mean, not even blaming those four for what happened to the Hulk on Sakaar, it goes wrong and the Hulk comes back and destroys Manhattan in World War Hulk because he's pissed off at being shot into space.

Oh, sure, he doesn't kill anyone. He does kidnap people, torture them (obedience disks?!) and destroy a major American city in the process. Yeah, they were bad guys, but two wrongs don't make a right. STILL. We all know this.

So, they also decide that the Hulk needs to be a villain, too.

I wish people actually read this journal because I'd really like an answer to why Marvel seems bound and determined to turn virtually every "hero" in their universe into a villain? I mean, you've got Cyclops ordering torture and murder, you've got Professor X having been revealed to be doing cruel mental manipulation for decades - I mean, stuff like making Scott and Alex Summers forget that they had another brother kind of horrible mental rape (and, again, not even to someone it could be argued "deserved" it like, y'know, Sabertooth or Mystique, but doing it to hide the fact Xavier was responsible for their deaths). You've got "heroes" kidnapping people and shooting them into space, or putting people in indefinite lock-up in extradimensional prisons. I mean, is there a single major hero out there, as Marvel hero, who hasn't done things that simply can't be justified as being "heroic"? And why have they decided to turn so many of their marquee characters into bad guys? I'm not getting it.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Scaramouche review

We watched the 1952 remake of Scaramouche - the one starring Stewart Granger. To fess up, I got it because of the six minute long sword duel between Scaramouche and Monsieur de Maynes which I've heard is the gold standard of swashbuckling cinematic duels. Well . . . hey, it is!

What I found in particular is that while academically aware that Hollywood cinema deeply influenced the Jackie Chan era of Chinese stuntmen and their often mind blowing antics, I haven't actually seen a lot of those movies. But with Scaramouche, I saw the kind of stuntwork that clearly presaged Chinese action movies of the 70s onwards. Not only the actors doing their own stunts, but crawling all over the scenery while swordfighting, swordfighting on narrow surfaces, swordfighting swinging from ropes, the tossing of everything in sight at each other, dropping heavy things from a great height to try to hit the other guy on the head . . . while lacking the kinetic oomph of a Yuen Woo-Ping directed fight, you can easily see all the elements that we'd see again in kung-fu movies. The visual language is clearly the same. So, great going, guys!

So, was there more than a swordfight? Yes! While Stewart Granger played Scaramouche's bemused insouciance to a T, I think that the show was stolen by Mel Ferrer was the villain, le Marquis de Maynes. Ferrer really caught the "it's great to be me" vibe that a viciously murderous wealthy and good looking French aristocrat should have. Obviously, de Maynes loved his life, especially when it involved killing someone, or bragging about killing someone. Even at the end, with a sword to his heart, the actor projected what I felt was perfect for the character - simply amused resignation that his time had come.

Even compared to the novel, however, it was pretty fluffy. In the novel, Scaramouche slowly evolves into a revolutionary idealist from a jaded cynic. While in both he's driven by the murder of his friend, in the movie it's all about revenge (and, to be fair, how hollow revenge is, which I liked - revenge is idiotic and I'm glad that the movie, as in the book, the desolation of seeking revenge is made clear). In the novel, well, it's actually about the Revolution, and eventually the Revolution's excesses! The movie doesn't touch on any of that, and wraps it up with a wedding.

And typical for a 50s movie, the female roles are pretty bland. Which I don't like, but it's something you've got to accept in most movies from the 50s onward. There are two female leads - played by Eleanor Parker and Janet Leigh, both talented actresses - but they exist merely as objects of love or lust for the hero. In the end, he chooses the good, pure and high born girl instead of the low born and quick witted woman with experience. Oh, well, I suspect that after the end credits roll Scaramouche would be going back to the actress in about ten minutes after being completely bored with his pure little noblewoman. But, like I said, while I don't like that kind of thing, I've learned to endure it.

Friday, August 29, 2008

Marked Woman review

The little lady and I just got done watching Marked Woman, a Bette Davis/Humphrey Bogart movie directed by Lloyd Bacon (who also brought Knute Rockne to the screen, introducing to a wide audience a certain Ronald Reagan, hehe). The 1936 crime piece is about "hostesses" (read: prostitutes) who operate in a mob owned clip joint. One of the hostesses, played by Davis, gets involved in a murder and initially resists the ADA (played by Bogart) in convicting the mobster - but after the hostesses' sister is murdered she bravely plays ball with law enforcement and brings the mobster to justice. Apparently the movie was inspired by New York's protracted battle against Lucky Luciano.

I really just watch loving Bette Davis act. She's just so splendid. Bogart and most of the supporting cast are also quite good, and at times the actor who plays the gangster, Eduardo Ciannelli, almost steals the show. But the reason to see the movie is, without a doubt, the chance to see Bette Davis act. She plays a wonderfully dignified, street smart call girl and the script doesn't degrade her, nor the other women in it. The thirties in cinema really was the height of this kind of behavior - movies with female roles that weren't just pathetic pandering girl stories of female sisterhood or whatever, banal romantic comedies or the even worse multitude of stories where women are merely victims of appendages of male protagonists. Roles where women could be honestly powerful started to decline in the 40s, and by the late 50s were almost gone altogether. They were gone by the 60s and 70s. Though they've started to return, I am just staggered at the numerous powerful female roles that I see in the cinema of the 30s, before women's role in movies was reduced to nothing but cheesecake victims as it has been much of my adult life. Because of when I was born, I grew up in an atmosphere almost void of powerful female characters. On the rare occasion Meryl Streep or Julia Roberts would make a movie that was a cut above the standard fare even those actresses are generally forced to work with, it was like a small window into a different film making universe where women weren't second class citizens. To me, Bette Davis flings open all the doors to that world - while the movies acknowledge the social reality of woman's powerlessness in a man's world, the movies, themselves, by featuring women in so many fully developed roles have really opened my eyes.

The upshot being, see this movie. And see a lot of movies with Bette Davis in them. Even the bad ones are pretty good. And see how movies were made before female roles in movies were crushed by all those banking interests who didn't want women to get uppity ideas.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Hancock movie review

Me and the li'l lady and a friend of ours saw Hancock the other day. We were somewhat amused by it. In particular, we liked Will Smith as the cranky, bumbling superhero whose antics were both benevolent and often incompetent. Critiques of the quality of the movie, otherwise, is a fairly weak script and incoherent plot plus mediocre effects. The upshot? If you like Will Smith, see it. If you don't, don't. Since I like Will Smith, I kinna liked the movie.

To me, though, what was really interesting is the PR man who turns Hancock's life around. I was getting a very It's a Wonderful Life feeling from it. In It's a Wonderful Life, one of the subtexts is that bankers do good in a community. Bankers are these benevolent people and crap like - the movie is functionally an advertisement for the banking industry. In a similar fashion, the PR protagonist of Hancock is this committed guy who wants to save the world by convincing corporations to do good deeds. I sort of threw up in my mouth about that. I mean, of all the impossible things I found that the most impossible. A superhero that can fly, bounce bullets off his face and move with incredible speed? That's downright realistic compared to an advertising guy trying to save the world through corporate benevolence! To me, that's the worst part of the movie - how it kisses the ass of corporate America and the praise for the ad industry.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Driving in California - those damn road signs!

Driving in California can be frustrating. The signs here sorta, well, suck ass. I mean, I've gotten fairly seriously lost in rural California twice in two years on long distance trips. In most states, when highways split there are these big ass signs that tell you what to do. I've driven all over the country, and I've never gotten lost like I have in California. What'll happen is I'll be driving down a highway and then, without me noticing it, I'll be on a different road! And then, y'know, I'll look at a map and say, "Ah, I take this road it'll lead over to the road I want to be on."

That doesn't happen. What happens is I find myself in rural California on roads that have no signs, no indications of direction, no markers for what community you're going to - nothing like that. Just this rural winding of roads almost entirely without any markings whatsoever. I will sometimes find myself totally without a single idea where I'm at or what direction I'm going in. Sometimes, roads will literally just end without warning, or turn into dirt paths.

It's pretty frustrating, and it's never happened to me in any other state!

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

John McCain and Gamers - I don't think he likes us, hehe.

From McCain's own website comes this little gem, "It may be typical of the pro-Obama Dungeons & Dragons crowd to disparage a fellow countryman's memory of war from the comfort of mom's basement, but most Americans have the humility and gratitude to respect and learn from the memories of men who suffered on behalf of others." That's from Mike Goldfarb, McCain's campaign manager.

The really goofy thing is that a lot of servicemen and women play role-playing games. It's no surprise, of course, that McCain's campaign is a little out of touch, but unbeknowst to them they just alienated a fair number of people who are his core constituency. Gamers are generally pretty touchy about this kind of crap, too. It seems particularly inane to create a new kind of discrimination in this day and age, based on a person's hobby.

Apparently someone straightened Goldfarb out because he recanted with this: "If my comments caused any harm or hurt to the hard working Americans who play Dungeons & Dragons, I apologize. This campaign is committed to increasing the strength, constitution, dexterity, intelligence, wisdom, and charisma scores of every American." Considering McCain's health care plans (read: do nothing) I don't believe that he's interested in our physical stats, and considering his education plans (read: cut yet more taxes on rich people and abandon yet more schools) I don't think he's lookin' out for my mental stats, either. ;)

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Sophisticated Badness

I was reading the Jog's critique of the end of the Ennis run on The Punisher. I can't really talk about Ennis' work on The Punisher because I don't particularly like either the writer or the character, but in the course of the review the character brought up Grant Morrison with great praise. The same critic also critiqued one of Morrison's Batman comics, again quite glowingly. The upshot is that Morrison does all these really cool things, or so the Jog says, and that is perhaps true - but at the end of the day I seem to be dissatisfied with Morrison's work. It took me a long time to figure out, but I finally did, and it's true not only of Morrison, I feel, but a number of comic book writers nowadays - they're bad in a more sophisticated way.

In particular, Morrison will have all these big ideas and concepts and the miss out on a lot of really basic things. So when people argue about whether "he made the Beast gay" or whatever, they never think to ask, "Why on earth have the X-Men accepted into the highest positions of authority a petty, vain and vindictive mass murderer like Emma Frost?!" So while people are going on about how Morrison was trying to make a point about the plight of people who are discriminated in society without the support mechanisms of gay people, I'm sitting back boggling how he put a mass murderer in charge of a bunch of children. Which is literally criminally stupid. Or the way that, y'know, relationships born in adultery are corrupted from the get-go. Stuff like that.

I feel roughly the same way about, say, Warren Ellis. In my opinion, he totally trashed the Thunderbolts - which had hitherto been a campy book about a fairly sophisticated subject, itself: how do people who know only how to do bad get redemption? They suck at it. Even when they are honestly seeking it, they suck at it. Which is a fairly intelligent social commentary relevant in a society which imprisons more people than China - even prisoners who might legitimately wish to change their ways are stuck with all the natural responses and knowledge and behavior that make it nearly impossible for even the most honest amongst them to reform. Yes, yes, the book had a lot of camp, but the point was significant and meaningful.

Ellis' run, however, is nasty people doing horrible things to each other. And then you find Ellis' Internet cult saying it's "realistic". Which is a stupid argument in comics where people have superpowers - wouldn't real realism, y'know, confine itself to the actually possible? - but also stupid because nothing like what happened in the Thunderbolts happens in life. Or, at least, I can't think of a government run program that transforms the most hardened criminals in our society into slaves of the government to hunt down other hardened violent criminals being run by an insane mass murderer. So, it's not realistic. It's so far from realistic that you can't see earth from where it's at.

Which is the problem for me. Not that it's not realistic, but that it's stupid. A government run program that transforms the most hardened criminals in our society into slaves of the government to hunt down other hardened violent criminals being run by an insane mass murderer. That's what Ellis' Thunderbolts are. And it has these profound implications. For instance, it implies that the US government is the kind of government that is okay with law enforcement agencies being run by insane mass murderers. Tony Stark is behind it, too, so he's also okay with an insane mass murderer running a government law enforcement program. It means that Tony Stark and the US government are too blindingly stupid to notice when this insane mass murderer goes on killing sprees and murders fifteen government agents or so evil they don't care. It means that these people are legally responsible for the actions of Norman fucking Osborn! I mean, for me, that's the story. The story isn't how much of a whore Moonstone is or whatever. The story is the profound and multifaceted corruption that would be necessary for Tony Stark's SHIELD and the US government to legally sanction Norman Osborn with law enforcement powers that he immediately abuses.

It's bad. Very bad. Stupid, even. But bad in a more sophisticated way than you'd find in comics from, say, the 50s. Bad in a way that acknowledges that these characters might have a few marbles loose (but always in a heavy handed way - far more interesting to me than Batman's potential insanity is, say, Reed Richards' psychological abuse and neglect of his wife and children), but then ignores even the most basic rules of internal logic and verisimilitude.

And I find myself surprised by it all, though I suppose that I shouldn't be. Comic book fans are desperately seeking approval for their medium (and, generally, these days finding it), and the sophisticated pose of comic book writers since, say, Frank Miller helps them get this respectability. This sophistication provides for many insecure comic book fans, who have some guilt over their fantasies about superheroes, social validity. I don't even mind that. What I mind is that this sophistication gets in the way of what I feel are basic storytelling skills. Worse, by it's very nature, sophistication encourages us to think about the stories - what do the writers mean? And when they do that, when guys like Morrison and Ellis do that, I find myself going, "That's a nice point, Grant, but you realize that the story falls apart?"

I believe that this is allowed to endure because of a certain elision that many fans are expert at saying that the senseless is the greatest form of sense. Not just comics fans but pretty much everywhere amongst fans (and especially amongst anime fans). What they do is work very hard to make sense from the senseless. If it doesn't make sense what they'll do is pretend it does make sense (and is, indeed, quite significant), and then criticize anyone who doesn't agree it makes sense by saying that they don't "get it".

(I also personally hate that, and it's wrong. I will look them in the eye and say, "I got Hegel's Phenomenology of the Spirit. I get Bergman's The Seventh Seal. No, really, I get it. I just think it's dumb." And then they shut up because none of them have the faintest idea of who Hegel is but they think they should or something. Sometimes I also ask them to explain it, and we can talk about that, but that's generally pretty bad for them.)

What I get is that the pose of sophistication in comic books is eroding basic coherent storytelling with internal logic and verisimilitude. And I wish people would start to say this basic and easy to understand fact!

Stalingrad the Movie

We just got done watching Stalingrad, a German movie about German Wehrmacht soldiers fighting in, sorta obviously, Stalingrad.

It was pretty heavy. We've had it for a couple of weeks now and didn't watch it because, y'know, it's a two and a half hour long movie that we knew would be relentlessly cheerless. And, over all, that's precisely what we got. It is the story of a crack unit of German fighting men who are sent to the bloodiest battle in human history, and on the losing side, at that. The movie had performances that ranged from the pretty good to outstanding, great cinematography, score and, of course, a deeply compelling source.

Pretty clearly, the point of the film was the relentless futility and stupidity of war. The battle scenes focused far less on the heroism of characters and a bit more on the psychological collapse of people put into that kind of meat grinding.

This is in some contradistinction to, say, something like Saving Private Ryan, a movie I couldn't really enjoy without being able to say why. Saving Private Ryan, despite the supposed realism of the battle scenes, has very little in the way to say about the psychological collapse of those who fight wars. The characters are all brave and heroic, and even at the end when Tom Hanks' character dies it's bravely (tho' I thought it came off more inane than brave) firing his pistol at a tank in some pathetic last desperate act of defiance. (I, personally, might have thought to get out of the tank's way, but I guess I'm silly like that.)

Stalingrad has brave people in it, but the battle scenes are far more about the multifaceted psychological harm that happens. Some of the scenes verge on the harrowing, but not necessarily the ones where peoples limbs or blown off or whatever. I mean, we've seen that kind of stuff since Platoon, right? One of the scenes with a group of desperate and hardened soldiers dealing with a bound Russian woman had a great deal of emotional impact, because of the casual assumption of brutality acceptable by soldiers in that situation - they just assume they're going to gang rape her in order of rank, and the psychological convolutions of the lieutenant, then the highest rank officer, when first trying to psyche himself up to rape her and then deciding not to do it was intense. And then, well, it's Stalingrad, so you've got to have people dying in the snow - the scene was both poignant and intensely beautiful. (Also, reminds me why I'm so happy to live in California. Yay mild winters!)

The movie's biggest flaw was . . . the lieutenant of this unit of soliders, and several of the people under his command, would confront German officers who were more traditionally Nazi, pompous, murderous and glory hounds. While absent the context of Nazi German's genocide against the Russian people - around thirty million Russians were killed, most of this civilians - I understand that the movie was trying to build sympathy for the characters. And it is certainly true that the people in the German Army, most of them, weren't genocidal monsters, but confused people living in a tyrannical regime that had mastered the arts or propaganda. But the context of the German invasion of Russia can't easily be ignored. So sometimes when the protagonists stand up to their brutal high ranking officers it comes off as being an apologia for the rank-and-file German soldier.

Mind you, I understand I say that in the context of American movies doing the same thing. I mentioned Platoon, earlier. Isn't Platoon an attempt to exonerate the rank-and-file American soldiery of the atrocities committed in Southeast Asia? I think clearly so. It shows the "average" American soldier as someone caught up in events outside of their control, doing atrocities under duress from their superiors. It ignores that each and ever drafted soldier was considered a legal and moral adult. So I can't hold that against Stalingrad too much, right?

Overall, I liked the movie a great deal. All of my favorite war movies - Apocalpyse Now, Paths of Glory, Full Metal Jacket - are about the stupidity and futility of war, and Stalingrad fits into that pack pretty darn well. It's a grim story, but a very good movie.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Bugs Bunny and the Gayness of Old Warner Bros. Cartoons

Through the medium of Netflix, we're getting a bunch of disks of classic Warner Brothers cartoons. You know, stuff like Loony Toons and Merrie Melodies. The first disk was all about Bugs Bunny, the second a bunch of Daffy Duck and Porky Pig ones.

The gay and transgendered subtext was not subtle. I know this isn't a particular relevation to a lot of people, but . . . it's been years, since I was a child, since I saw these things. Bugs Bunny cross dresses in about half of them. In about a third of them, he kisses Elmer Fudd on the mouth. At one point Daffy leaps into Porky's arms and proposes. Daffy also cross dresses in at least one of the cartoons. And this is the second disk!

No, seriously, it's not subtle. It's really out there, very obvious. It makes me wonder how they were initially received. Oh, I know they were well-loved. But did this gay and transgendered stuff just go over people's heads? Did they just not see it? Or did they know it and there was a continent wide conspiracy of silence not to mention how risque these cartoons were, using the anthropomorphic animals as an excuse to ignore the clear transgenderism that is rampant through these cartoons?

The other thing that I really noticed is that the animation is really good, hehe. Often deeply surreal, to the extent that "what were they smoking" references seemed to come every eight minutes or so. But they're also sharp and funny in that way that Warner Brothers did so well. They're great stuff!

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Let's Humiliate People - Iron Man and the Mighty Avengers

I just came across this little gem of an image in The Mighty Avengers #11 and spoilers ahead. Seriously, at this point I think I'm keeping reading just because I'm morbidly curious. It's like seeing a car wreck on the side of the road. But here's the picture:



The story arc, concluding here, is that . . . the Mighty Avengers think Doctor Doom did something bad and they go to Latveria to confront him. Despite the fact he didn't do it, and as far as I can tell he didn't even condone it, his refusal to bow down to Tony Stark prompts a fight. Doom was winning until, having written themselves into a corner, they have the Sentry do his deus ex machina act. I mean, I hope everyone who reads The Mighty Avengers gets it that the Sentry is this total deus ex machina, right? An excuse to have sudden inexplicable victories without having to provide a shred of basic justification? Whenever the writers want the story to end they say, "Oh, the Sentry kicks their ass." Mega-weak, but whatever.

What really gets me about this is that the Sentry just doesn't kick Doom's ass. He humiliates Doom by tearing off his mask, showing the Avengers, who react in a horrified way to Doom's disfigurement. And then Iron Man uses that opportunity to belittle his defeated opponent.

Is this really what people want to see? Heroes degrading their enemies? Shaming and humiliating them, and then bragging about their victories?

I mean, to top it all off, Doctor Doom didn't do it! But several months after this comic was written, that hasn't been addressed. I know that the wheels of comic books can move slowly and maybe it will be addressed that the Mighty Avengers total lack of anything resembling detective work resulted in them invading a sovereign nation, beating up an innocent man (or, at least, innocent of what they charged him with) and then humiliating this disfigured man.

And as far as I can tell, no one really has a problem with this. It baffles me.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Conversation Stoppers in the Comic Book Shop - Talkin' About Magneto and Cyclops, and Generalized Critique of Marvel Comics

Over at Comics Should Be Good there was an review of Fantastic Four 1234. This bit isn't about the article, but the weird flame war that went on afterwards. Or weird to me, anyway. In the review, the author opines that Magneto and Doctor Doom are villain terrorists but that a number of comics fans will launch into apologia when confronted with their villainy. A flame war ensued when, of course, some of the fans did launch into their various apologia, hehe. This is predictable as clockwork.

But I found it interesting, given recent comic book history, that no one turned the apologia for especially Magneto on it's head. I expressed this for the first time at the local friendly comic book store here in downtown Santa Cruz when my friend Peter brought up, y'know, stuff like Iron Man vivisecting people and whether this editorial trend would continue (the answer from the comic store guy was "yes, it will continue indefinitely", which is likely true for the short to medium term).

I said this, "To me, the more interesting question is how is Cyclops going to confront Magneto when he appears doing villain thing. Now that Cyclops is running a black ops assassination squad and condoned the use of torture to get information, how can it be said that he has the moral authority to condemn Magneto's actions. Cyclops is at least as bad as Magneto, now, killing and torturing people who get in his way for the good of the mutant 'species'."

Silence followed. No one at the comic shop really knew how to answer that - and I suspect that the X-fans won't know how to answer it - but I found it really interesting that, so far, no one appears to be even asking the question. Like it's somehow irrelevant that Cyclops and Magneto are now behaving the same way, or if anything Cyclops is behaving much worse than Magneto.

Also at the comic shop, Peter asked about comics where the heroes were more heroic. The counter guy said, accurately, that Marvel is moving heroism over to their children's comics. Tho' he also said, "Tho' Whedon in Astonishing X-Men was trying to insert some old fashioned heroism into the book." And I said, "But now Ellis is writing it so that's fuckin' over." And there were weary and heavy-hearted nods.

And forgive me if I am rambling here, but I think that this editorial decision will be bad in the long term. I mean, first off, it's just not particularly sustainable, as shown in the recent Wolverine's where he was sent to kill Mystique. He doesn't. Why? Because it would be a very bad literary decision to kill a villain as interesting and storied as Mystique. So, despite Wolverine having her entirely at his mercy, nope, he just wounded her and left with a little sassy diatribe about how she had no friends and he did, neener. It just doesn't work for the genre if you kill off villains (and is one of the persistent problems in Punisher comics - there's no real way for him to do his gig and keep his enemies alive, so they get no histories and aren't particularly interesting). Second, it'll drive away the people who don't want to see the heroes act like villains. I number myself amongst that lot. For a while, a lot of readers - young men in particular - will jump on the bandwagon. But they don't have endurance.

Alternately, there's the Real Power of the DC Universe:



In addition to this picture being pure fucking class, it demonstrates some of the differences - the editorial differences - between DC and Marvel. Since the Infinite Crisis in the DCU, there have been editorial decisions that are pulling back from the black on black attitudes that have been growing in comics. They have also been promoting powerful female protagonists a lot more than Marvel.

The black on black grim and gritty attitude has come to almost entirely dominate Marvel's editorial decisions for most of their lines. When those people get tired of that black on black attitude, where will they go? It doesn't take a genius to figure it out.

Monday, August 11, 2008

DC's New Frontiers vs. Marvel's Civil War

I'm putting a spoiler warning right here, and in bold letters so if you don't want anything spoiled about either New Frontiers or Civil War you should stop reading now.

It's kind of hard not to see DC's mini-series New Frontiers as being anything other than a response to Marvel's Civil War. I know that the two big comic book companies have been sorta having a strange conversation for a long time, but in recent years I believe that the conversation has grown in intensity.

For those who don't know, and to recap in my own unique style, Marvel's Civil War was this fairly contrived mega-event where, in order to promote a professionalization of superheroing after a tragedy, a Superhuman Registration Act was passed in the United States. The prime mover for the SHRA was Iron Man, under the hypothesis that as a "futurist" he knew that unless superheroes were professionalized immediately that horrible things would happen to them all. Opposing this position was Captain America, who felt the act was tyrannical.

Well, maybe the act wasn't tyrannical, but it's enforcement was. If you didn't register, you were declared an "enemy combatant" and sent off to a prison in the Negative Zone where Iron Man bragged about how people didn't have civil rights so it was perfectly fine to incarcerate them indefinitely.

In the end of Marvel's Civil War, Iron Man's faction won. Most comics ended up treating this like an advance. Whether or not registration was a good idea, it's implementation was downright evil. If you don't register, y'know, indefinite imprisonment in another dimension where you don't have civil rights, and that dimension eats people's souls. Ouch. If you do register, well, you get enslaved. I mean, drafted to perform involuntary and indefinite service in US government approved superhero teams. One of these government teams, the Thunderbolts, is lead by the Green Goblin, and innumerable people have been crippled or killed by the Green Goblin and his equally psychopathic charges, including something like fifteen federal agents who were killed with the Goblin freaked out and started slaughtering people. I actually find the denouement baffling because of the indefinite imprisonment without civil rights, the indefinite involuntary servitude of those who do register combined with employing mass murderers as the first government sanctioned team. Bear in mind, this has been going on for about two years, now. It's not like it's like where some supervillain turns New York City into fantasy New York City for three issues before Morgan le Fey or Kulan Gath or whomever else is doing it this time gets their ass kicked. It's been two years in almost all titles to some extent or another. It feels like editorial policy that the Civil War is a good thing.

In New Frontiers, which takes iconic DCU characters an imagines them in a post-WWII environment. There, Hourman - a member of the WWII era Justice Society of America - while chasing a crook messes up and some cops die, causing legislation similar to Marvel's SHRA to be published. Many, even most, of the "masked mystery men" go into retirement to avoid having to register with the House Un-American Activites Commission. Some, like Superman and Wonder Woman, register with the government. Obviously, Batman doesn't. Illegal superhero activity is classed as treason.

By the end of New Frontiers, the iconic DCU characters have decided to fight against the criminalization of superhero activities. Superman monologues about how it is their obligation to fight injustice everywhere, whether official or government.

To me, it strongly came off as commentary on Marvel's Civil War. The tyrannical enforcement of New Frontier's laws equating superheroing with treason were initially embraced but subsequently and forcefully rejected. The message was clear: equating citizens from helping other citizens with treason is both stupid and immoral.

I find it fascinating the way that DC and Marvel are trading talking points about these sorts of things. It really makes me wonder what's going on over there. I know that, y'know, most writers and artists of superhero comics work pretty much interchangeably between the two companies. So I'm wondering where this is coming from and if my perceived increase in the intensity of the exchanges is real and if real what underlies it.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

New Fandom Word - Allpurposenacht!

I was playing Mutants & Masterminds, and a magical ritual was in the offing and the party was unsure about the time. My character, the Magnificent Mountain Lion said, "Oh, they always have those ceremonies at midnight on Walpurgisnacht." And one of the other players said, "Allpurposenacht?"

So Allpurposenacht has entered our lexicon! It is the plot convenient magical ceremony day - you know, the new moon, "when the stars are right", at the alignment of the Houses of Mercury and Aquarius or whatever - that is immediately to happen in order for the action of the plot to be driven!

It's a neat word. And you should use it as much as possible.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

A Subcommittee Inquest into the Origins and Consequences of the Skrull Invasion - a Fantasy

Oh, I know it's not over, yet, so my crystal ball might not be very good. But I think I've got enough to write a touch of fanfic. Oh-em-gee, I think this will qualify as fanfic.

Anyway, on Earth-616-and-a-smidge, after the business with Skrulls trying to conquer the earth and when most things have come to light, there are Senate hearings into, well, how it went along so far. Imagine a packed committee room, one of the ones with the big high desks that the Senators sit on and tables a distance away with microphones. It's packed with people, mostly press, lots of cameras, lots of other mikes. The subcommittee is chaired by Senator Quimby (D-Springfield) and with vice-chair Senator Blutarsky (R-Massachusetts). Sitting at one of the tables is Reed Richards.

QUIMBY: The Senate, this committee and the American people greet you, Dr. Richards. I see your lovely wife in the audience. I hope we won't give you too much cause for emotional support, here.

RICHARDS: Thanks for your greeting, Senator.

QUIMBY: So, let's get down to business. The Skrulls infiltrated our superhuman community. How did this happen.

RICHARDS: They developed improvements to their shapeshifting process which allowed them to remain undetected for a very long time, Senator.

BLUTARSKY: I think what my distinguished colleague was asking, Dr. Richards, is how did they go unnoticed for so long?

RICHARDS: As I said . . .

BLUTARSKY: Try saying something new. We've all read your press reports about how the Skrulls improved their process of shapeshifting. We know that. What I am interested in are the reports - and we have a pile of them right here - that say they sought a divide and conquer strategy against superheroes, specifically American ones. Let's talk about that.

RICHARDS: I'm not sure what you . . .

BLUTARSKY: I wouldn't have thought myself so hard to see through when talking to the smartest man in the world. Allow me to rephrase. Part of the plan of the Skrulls was to foment chaos and dissent amongst the superhero community.

RICHARDS: Yes.

BLUTARSKY: So they arranged events to create an atmosphere of paranoia and distrust directed at the superhuman community?

RICHARDS: I believe so.

BLUTARSKY: You were one of the chief architects of that plan. Well, no, not architect. Something more like a patsy.

RICHARDS: I . . . there is no way to see into the future.

QUIMBY: That's funny, Dr. Richards. Because I've got a pile of papers right here that say that's exactly what you can do. That you developed a system of mathematics that is able to predict future trends to high degrees of accuracy. And on the strength of those recommendations you assisted in the drafting of legislation, and the fighting of battles that split apart the superhero community.

RICHARDS: I am not sure how to respond to that.

BLUTARSKY: To tell the truth, I couldn't begin to understand the mathematics, here. But I have a witness who can. (A bailiff goes and returns with . . . DOCTOR DOOM. There is a big stir.) Please take a seat, Dr. Doom.

RICHARDS: I can't believe this! I . . .

BLUTARSKY: Dr. Doom, have you read the articles on Reed Richards' work concerning the prediction of future events.

DOOM: I have had a great deal of time to read scientific journals. Yes, I have read his work.

BLUTARSKY: Do you understand it.

DOOM: The question is insulting. Of course I did.

BLUTARSKY: So, Dr. Doom, can you perhaps illuminate what went wrong with these analyses of Dr. Richards?

DOOM: Simply speaking, Richards made a mistake. His parameterization was faulty. He used the wrong mathematical regime to address the question.

RICHARDS: Victor, you know as well as I that when dealing with numerical problems of this scale it is impossible to work with them in the proper regime! Senator, when you have very small values that can concretely effect very large values, on the scale of one to the seventh orders of magnitude, it becomes impossible to use a computational method to solve the problem! I used parameters that were highly successful in . . .

DOOM: Fluid dynamics! But clearly when dealing with social engineering, we are talking levels of complexity that approach, or exceed, that of fluid turbulence! But in your arrogance . . .

RICHARDS: My arrogance?

DOOM: You allowed yourself to be guided to parameterize the problem both in a way that you could solve it, an in a way that made you the focus of some glorious new world!

RICHARDS: How many mistakes have you made, Doom? This is just another . . .

DOOM: Nonsense! I had my work fact checked by an unimpeachable source. You made grotesque mistakes, Richards! Because you were incapable of believing that the problem of human interaction is fundamentally turbulent in nature, you sought out a regime that was superficially correct. You used it to predict the hem lengths on skirts and the price of the dollar, for tricks that any capable economics professor could do for the time periods of your research, while turning a blind eye to the truth: that there are simply too many values to be parameterized! My work in the field of temporal mechanics is second to none, and one of the first rules I found is that to predict the future you must first know it. It is a tautology which prevents accurate predictions.

RICHARDS: Who did you get to check your work, Doom?

QUIMBY: That would be our next guest, Dr. Richards. But if it pleases Dr. Doom, I don't think we have any other questions. You're free to go. (Doom leaves.) Bailiff, will you please show in our next expert to talk about all of this? (The bailiff leaves and returns with AMADEUS CHO.) Mr. Cho, thank you for coming. Please, take your seat.

CHO: No problem, dude.

QUIMBY: That's senator, young man.

CHO: OK, Senator Dude. (Laughter from the audience)

QUIMBY: You never believed in the need for superhero registration.

CHO: Never. It was pretty clearly flawed from the onset. I mean, come on, a couple of rich, Ivy League educated white guys came up with a solution that made them more powerful. It was pretty obviously an attempt to keep their status in the face of changes undergoing the superhero community.

RICHARDS: I don't see how this speculation has anything to do with my work.

BLUTARSKY: No, no, I'm interested. Mr. Cho, why do you say that?

CHO: Well, you can do your fact checking, but how many people here have even heard of Isaiah Bradley? See? No one. He as the first supersoldier, the black Captain America. But history has forgotten him. What they've remembered is the white Captain America. But times change. More and more superheroes are people of color, guys like Luke Cage and the Patriot, guys like that.

RICHARDS: I am not a racist.

CHO: Yeah right whatever. You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel any better, whitebread. But, senators and dude, it was obvious to me from the beginning that these guys were just threatened by all the poor and non-white heroes that were starting to gain traction. So they thought up a plan to keep themselves in power.

QUIMBY: And you fact checked Dr. Doom's work.

CHO: Totally.

QUIMBY: Do you agree with Dr. Doom's assessment of the situation?

CHO: Yep. Garbage in, garbage out. Richards definitely used the wrong regime. His predictions were bogus from the start, but he only tested them against lightweight crap for short periods of time to verify them. Sloppy science. Even if he isn't a big old racist who wanted to stay on top of the pile, his math sucked. His work is useless for predicting future events. It's like Vic said. The problem with predicting the future is you don't know what's gonna happen. Maybe Stamford was some reckless punk kids trying to boost their rep and things got screwed up and a lot of people died, or maybe it was a Skrull invasion to cause superheroes to beat each other up so the Skrulls could get as many of their agents as possible in place. There's no way to know. Too many variables. Turbulent.

QUIMBY: I think that will be all, Mr. Cho.

CHO: No problem, Senator Dude. (Exits.)

BLUTARSKY: So, Dr. Richards, we have had two professional witnesses who say that your mathematics, what did Mr. Cho say? They sucked. Do you have anything to say about that?

RICHARDS: (Humbled.) I never meant to do any harm. I just wanted to help people.

BLUTARSKY: And, believe me, we are well aware of all the good you have done. But having done good in the past can only partially mitigate your responsibility for having ignored common sense and scientific ethics in the promotion of your agenda. I believe you have swindled the Senate and the American people, Mr. Richards.

QUIMBY: Senator Blutarsky, calm down. The witness here is not hostile, and he is still a hero. But even heroes make mistakes of reason.

RICHARDS: Thank you, senator.

QUIMBY: The second issue I want to bring up, however, is Prison Forty-Two.

RICHARDS: I don't know that I can help you very much with that, senator. I was only involved in the initial design phases. What happened afterwards is beyond me.

QUIMBY: Yes, yes, the political end of things will be addressed when we talk to Mr. Stark. I am more curious about it's location. The Negative Zone.

(Richards looks uncomfortable.)

QUIMBY: I admit I am one of the people who voted for the creation of the prison. I had certain problems with how it was being pitched, but some of these supervillains are dangerous enough that getting them away from people, far away, seemed sensible. However, one of the things that I was told, along with my colleagues, is that the Negative Zone is safe.

RICHARDS: The environment is quite able to sustain human life.

QUIMBY: I have right here before me an article out of Nature magazine. It says, allow me to read it, "While the Negative Zone has everything needed to support life, bearing in mind the short supply of water, there are unfortunate psychological consequences of prolonged stays there. Some people exhibit severe depression, anxiety, rage, hallucinations and psychosis. To some extent these symptoms effect everyone, and over time their influence increases." Can you guess who the author of that is, Mr. Richards?

RICHARDS: I don't need to guess. I know. It's me.

QUIMBY: I had my staff check your testimony in front of the House and Senate, and all public meetings about this, and I can't find you ever mentioning it to us. Let me read you something else, "Except for the lack of water, the Negative Zone is the ideal place for criminals. Able to support life in comfortable physical conditions, dramatically isolated from the earth, there is no reason why the Negative zone should not be used for the incarceration of criminals." Do you know who said that, Dr. Richards?

RICHARDS: It was me, too. (Gasps from the audience. Flashbulbs flashing.) I was only talking about the physical conditions in the Negative Zone. It was not my intent to deceive.

QUIMBY: So you expect us to believe that you didn't think it was important to tell us that people who go to the Negative Zone experience psychotic rages and murderous hallucinations?

RICHARDS: It was outside the specific testimony asked.

BLUTARSKY: You missed your calling as a lawyer, Dr. Richards. (More laughter.)

Right then, a man in a suit would rush up.

MAN IN SUIT: I'm the lawyer of the Fantastic Four. I got here as soon as possible. Dr. Richards, don't say anything else!

And so the open public hearing of Reed Richards came to an end. But in the aftermath of his arrogance and lies, he was never regarded the same way, again. His wife would leave him and pick up with Namor, and his company and patents would eventually be purchased by Doctor Doom, leaving him a minor functionary in the Baxter Building, ashamed and forgotten.

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger."

Has anyone else noticed that's just crap? Getting your limbs ripped off by a roadside bomb doesn't make anyone stronger. Living through the horror of war doesn't make people stronger. It just gives them post-traumatic stress disorder or any one of another anxiety disorders. Oh, sure, maybe they can kill someone faster and better, but they also can't really sleep at night, and they lash out at friends and family because they're filled with inexplicable rages and depression. When your father kicks the crap out of you as a kid, that doesn't toughen you up - it just traumatizes you. So, no, that which doesn't kill you doesn't make you stronger, either. It just hurts and strips away some, and sometimes all, of your ability to recognize and comprehend joy. To the extent that there are compensations - like the ability to resist physical pain and endure physical fatigue - they're totally outmatched by the crazy it puts in people's lives.

I originally came across this lousy argument in TOS Star Trek. One of those godlike beings that populates the Star Trek universe was offering to take away people's pain and Kirk laid out the whole "if we don't suffer, we don't get stronger" bullshit. Or maybe it was one of those pablum speeches about how suffering builds character.

I just want to get it out there once and for all I think that's utter bullshit.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Cyclops - MASTER OF ASSASSINS

Okay, does anyone out there think that this makes even the slightest bit of sense? Cyclops is ordering people to do assassinations. He's authorizing the use of torture.

Maybe I'm just out of touch, but I'd mostly thought we were past the point of thinking that what was "wrong" with comics is that they didn't have a high enough body count. That it would be be some kind of improvement if every comic book protagonist (at this point, the word "hero" in no sense applies in the modern sense) treated life with absolute contempt.

And the reasons are so . . . creepy. I mean, the whole Endangered Species storyline . . . am I the only person who was all creeped out about that? The problem is that their genetic uniqueness was gone and that they, as a species, were "dying out". So it was okay to do anything to preserve mutants as a "species" because they were "dying out".

Why would I find that creepy? Because, well, first, I don't think that they're a different species. They can breed with "humans", humans largely find them attractive sex partners, blah, blah, blah. While mutants might on some levels qualify as a new species, on others they don't. Indeed, the very word "mutant" implies that they aren't a different species, but merely unusual genetic variations within the larger human gene pool.

Which gets us around to number two. There have often been groups of humans who possess certain genotypes who have been very quick to accuse other people who lack those specific genotypes of being a different species. The best known are the fucking Nazis. And, more generally, any racial supremacist movement you can think of.

So, yeah, I was pretty deeply creeped out about this obsession over the X-gene and it's distinction of mutants into a separate species, one so important that by the time we get over to Messiah Complex the mutants are willing to kill and torture to "protect". The reasoning they use is the reasoning of all the racist nutjobs who think that their "race" is superior to other people's race, and it's being threatened by all those filthy mud people, so it's okay to grab a few of them and burn them alive.

They've become what they hated! Scott Summers has decided not only that Magneto was right, but that he didn't go far enough and has added torture to murder, justified as protecting his "species". This used to be the sort of thing that they fought. It'll make it hard to read the book when these people try to stop someone like Magneto (who has been variously retconned over the years that to find the stuff where he was a laughing megalomaniacal supervillain trying to conquer the world, you've got to go back literally decades - so he's definitely morally superior to Cyclops nowadays) or even Mister Sinister. Cyclops is willing to torture people and kill them to enact his racist agenda, not too differently from Mister Sinister.

But, WOW, the composition of X-Force is even more boggling. I think Warpath is a pretty racist caricature, albeit more gentle than in days past, but whenever the X-writers get near Native Americans it quickly gets deeply stupid. But, still, his participation on X-Force is almost given. And Wolverine, of course.

But then we come up on X-23. Here's this girl - and it is important to remember she's a girl, a legal minor - who has been horribly abused to be shaped into a child killer. Her psyche is altogether crushed, she's almost totally incapable of normal human interaction. She was brought to the school for the specific purpose of getting her away from that kind of bullshit, to learn to interact with humans as friends and loved ones instead of viewing them as obstacles to kill to get to her objective. Cyclops takes this girl and puts her on the team because she's good at tracking and killing. Cyclops has decided that it's okay to destroy X-23's soul because he doesn't want to get his own damn hands dirty.

Which is another thing - this gutless motherfucker is sending other people to do his dirty work. I have trouble interpreting that in any other way than cowardice. He's pretty good at sneaking around, he's got this great tactical sense, huge amounts of experience, and powers that are quite good at killing people. He fits the profile to a T. But, y'know, it's better to let X-23 drown in blood than for him to step up and do the things he asks of others.

Needless to say, I'm not terribly pleased with this. If anyone can make sense of why the writers and editors thought it was a good idea, I'd like to know.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Are Tony Stark and Reed Richards evil and stupid?

It's mostly a rhetorical question. As far as I can tell, the answer is a big ol' "yes".

So, they're not Skrulls. And the whole Civil War business seems to have been a Skrull trick to get the US superhero community to weaken itself in preparation to the Skrull invasion.

Which means instead of being a great futurist, Tony Stark is a stupid tool who fell into the Skrull trap. Reed Richards, rather than inventing the perfect system by which to predict human events, is a tool of hostile alien invaders. They let their racism and paranoia get the better of them, enabling enemy invaders in their quest for global domination.

In so doing, they've violated just about every civil right that has a name, and have acted like tyrannical asshats while repeatedly mouthing deeply stupid platitudes which, despite their deep frivolity, have been accepted by a number of comics fans seemingly without question.

I'll give you some of my favorites. After the cloned cyborg Thor murders a person, Tony Stark (who really is the main mouthpiece of these shenanigans) says that it's no different than a cop using deadly force against a criminal. Well, no, a police officer is a trained member of a law enforcement division. He isn't the untested and deeply immoral and uncontrollable cyborg cloned god that got totally out of control and started to kill people. A cop isn't anything like that at all.

Or, here's a favorite, person of mass destruction, or the comparison between superpowered people and atomic and/or nuclear weaponry. So, which one of these guys killed 110,000 people in one shot and destroyed a medium sized city? How many of them are capable of such things? Oh, almost none of them! I can only imagine the folks in Marvel's Japan, in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, burning Iron Man in effigy for comparing some of the greatest horrors known to mankind to such as Danny Rand. Yeah, it's fitting and proper to compare Iron Fist to Fat Man or Little Boy. He's well known for destroying medium sized Japanese cities and killing tens of thousands at a go . . . oh, wait, no. Or what about the Speedball, or Penance, or whatever the hell he's calling himself nowadays? Yeah, right, dangerous as a nuclear fucking weapon.

At Marvel Comics, nowadays, this is what goes for an "event". Oh, my.