The complete Dungeons & Dragons cartoon series came out on DVD a few months ago. In comparison to other fantasy cartoons of the '80s, it holds up well. There's an over-arching plot, some effort made at internal consistency, puzzles are overcome with clever (though narratively convenient) solutions, and episodes advance at a Goonies-like pace, eschewing setup, dialogue, and continuity in editing in order to cram in as many monsters and set pieces as possible. For children without access to InuYasha, its appeal is forgivable.
The series departs from the source material in many ways. Magic in particular is handled very differently than any version of the D&D game up to this point. Presto pulls spells from his hat, the evil Venger shoots magic energy from his palms, and Merlin recites words from a giant book and boils spell components in a cauldron. There are no clerics. At the beginning of the series, each character is given a magic item that requires no charges (they only need to be powered up in the Hall of Bones every 300 years) and has different functions depending on the situation. Enemies that can raise ancient temples out of the desert seem to possess no magic resistance or saving throws against these weapons. The 5-headed dragon god Tiamat (a recurring threat, the crocodile to Venger's Captain Hook) can be fooled by an invisibility cloak. Talk about NPCs not using their magic items and innate powers.
Wait a minute.
The characters in the D&D cartoon come into the fantasy world via magical roller coaster, resulting in several anachronisms NPCs hardly bat an eye at. Dungeon Master, the gnome who sends the characters on their quests, is a combination of a stereotypical DM (when he says "when in darkness, seek the light" he means one instance in particular, all the other times you're in darkness and see light be damned) and an Elminster deus ex machinae NPC who is powerful enough to disappear on a whim and hand out magic items as if it were Halloween in Waterdeep, but doesn't feel like stopping the bad guys himself. There's a mad rush from one combat encounter to the next. The one character who suggests a course of action contrary to what the rest of the party or the DM wants them to do is shouted down, either for metagaming, because no one else likes him, or because that's not the direction the story's "supposed" to go.
There are two possibilities here. One, this is the way the game is "supposed" to be played. Two, the D&D cartoon is so hardwired into peoples' brains that it's nearly impossible to find a group of players who want to do something else with the system.
(Author's note: This was written after watching only 3 1/2 episode of the complete Dungeons & Dragons cartoon. Oh, and "to be continued...")
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
Lost: Stranger In A Strange Land
Last episode, I concentrated on what made an episode of Lost work for everyone. Then they made an episode just for me. Getting Clancy Brown (Brother Justin from Carnivale) into the Lost mythos was cool enough, but introducing the chick who was too hot for Star Wars was completely unexpected. All J.J. Abrams needs to do now is get Baltar and any MST3K cast member into a flashback and this will officially become my favorite show evar. (I would also accept cameos by Dave Foley/Kevin McDonald, Tamlyn Tomita, and any one voice actor from Futurama, so they're partway there.)
I was looking for hidden details, but this episode appeared to be fairly on the surface. What worked for me: I like it when we learn answers to mysteries of minor/symbolic importance and when my conspiracy theories are disproven. This time out, we finally learned what Jack's tattoos meant. (If you weren't wondering about that, you don't spend enough time on teh Interweb.) To mix my genre examples and alienate the few people who I know read this site and have never seen either show, the "He walks among us, but is not one of us," satisfied my Jack and Sawyer Are the Two Halves of John Crichton theory. And although I was hoping that there were two competing groups of Others, one on the second island and a dirtier group on the main one, I like it when I'm wrong about the mystery. It gives me new stuff to speculate about.
For people who are not me, there was still a lot to like in this episode. The "current" timeline advanced by a day and a half. We aren't going to see Jack for awhile, and when we do, he might be in a place to ask some relevant questions (i.e. in The Other's backyard, cooking burgers on the grill). And the relation between the flashback and island storyline was more than superficially symbolic. It not only reiterated that Jack's a stubborn, self-destructive jerk (the guy's a doctor and yet he has sex with a woman he suspects of being a prostitute in Thailand?), but it dove-tailed with what we know of Juliet's history. She keeps getting involved with guys who want to control her actions and then asks someone to kill them. Good luck in the future, Jack.
The usual LOSTcasts shout-out goes to their episode title connection. Never having read Heinlein, I wouldn't have come up with it myself. But apparently if you know the plot of the novel, you'd begin to suspect that Jack will become the leader of The Others by the end of the season. Although as they point out in their podcast, having the power to decide whether Ben lives or dies, Jack's pretty much in control of their destiny already. Which begs the question all my non-spoiler sources are avoiding. Other than maybe being born on the island, what makes Ben so special?
I was looking for hidden details, but this episode appeared to be fairly on the surface. What worked for me: I like it when we learn answers to mysteries of minor/symbolic importance and when my conspiracy theories are disproven. This time out, we finally learned what Jack's tattoos meant. (If you weren't wondering about that, you don't spend enough time on teh Interweb.) To mix my genre examples and alienate the few people who I know read this site and have never seen either show, the "He walks among us, but is not one of us," satisfied my Jack and Sawyer Are the Two Halves of John Crichton theory. And although I was hoping that there were two competing groups of Others, one on the second island and a dirtier group on the main one, I like it when I'm wrong about the mystery. It gives me new stuff to speculate about.
For people who are not me, there was still a lot to like in this episode. The "current" timeline advanced by a day and a half. We aren't going to see Jack for awhile, and when we do, he might be in a place to ask some relevant questions (i.e. in The Other's backyard, cooking burgers on the grill). And the relation between the flashback and island storyline was more than superficially symbolic. It not only reiterated that Jack's a stubborn, self-destructive jerk (the guy's a doctor and yet he has sex with a woman he suspects of being a prostitute in Thailand?), but it dove-tailed with what we know of Juliet's history. She keeps getting involved with guys who want to control her actions and then asks someone to kill them. Good luck in the future, Jack.
The usual LOSTcasts shout-out goes to their episode title connection. Never having read Heinlein, I wouldn't have come up with it myself. But apparently if you know the plot of the novel, you'd begin to suspect that Jack will become the leader of The Others by the end of the season. Although as they point out in their podcast, having the power to decide whether Ben lives or dies, Jack's pretty much in control of their destiny already. Which begs the question all my non-spoiler sources are avoiding. Other than maybe being born on the island, what makes Ben so special?
Sunday, February 25, 2007
A Paranoid Lapse In Connectivity
Oh, Narraptor is quite wrong. I assure you that I am the one true Mister Bile. I have even put up one of his backlogged posts, to give the illusion of productivity. That is a Mister Bile thing to do. Besides, doppelgangers suck far too hard to be a real threat.
Not the Russian ones of folklore, mind you. They're really nice guys, as long as you're not the one they're stalking. I'm talking about the non-folklore varieties of shapeshifting bastards. Let's face it: Half the time an alien invasion begins with the monsters turning into their victims, it's just a way to conserve the budget. And how do you end these invasions? Earth resorts to Deus Ex Machina, that's what. The aliens have a giant off-switch, or a queen, or an allergy to nuclear powered trains. The only alternative is that the unstoppable sinister force really is unstoppable. Which isn't my cup of tea, but is at least bearable as long as the inevitable and logical outcome isn't presented as a twist ending.
No group of invaders could stand to be that lame. Trust me. When the replicates come, they'll be up front about their scheme. Then it'll turn out that their scheme is to only kill and replace violent criminals and pedophiles forcing us to grudgingly embrace the new and improved versions. Or perhaps it'll turn out that within 30 days, the invaders completely absorb our memories, causing each wave to re-invade the same spot, looking for clues to what happened to the last group. However it works out, it won't be like the latest remake of Invasion of the Invading Invaders.
As for Narraptor's single-doppelganger theory, I would postulate that it's just as lame. Identical twin, parallel world version, lone alien spore, it doesn't matter. As long as they're content to wear the identifying mustache, it's all good. But once they start thinking the can pull off a hasty impersonation, it's over. Petrified awkward social moments are unearthed from the comedy strata, and held aloft for our enjoyment. It wasn't funny in The Prince and The Pauper, and it's not funny now. So, I promise you this: There are no replacements going on around Canned Food And Shotguns. We simply have too much respect to inflict that on you, which means that our replicants have too much respect to enact such a scheme and not break character to the point of ruining their disguise.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking about about The Thing and Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. The Thing was good, but breaking that law broke John Carpenter. It took a few more movies for the suck to fully set in, but now all he does is stay in his room all day, wondering if it was worth fucking with the universe. Then he continues with is plans for Ghosts Of Jupiter. And Bill And Ted's Bougus Journey sucks compared to what might have been. But I have seen the past. In it, there was an even better Bill and Ted movie, where instead of evil robot doppelgangers they had to fight the laid-pack wuss rockers they would turn into in the distant future. I swear to you, it was beautiful, and predicted the apperance of Creed to a disturbing extant. Then I ended up killing someone's grandfather, and that movie never happened.
I should have expected it. After all, time machines run exclusively on dead grandfathers.
Not the Russian ones of folklore, mind you. They're really nice guys, as long as you're not the one they're stalking. I'm talking about the non-folklore varieties of shapeshifting bastards. Let's face it: Half the time an alien invasion begins with the monsters turning into their victims, it's just a way to conserve the budget. And how do you end these invasions? Earth resorts to Deus Ex Machina, that's what. The aliens have a giant off-switch, or a queen, or an allergy to nuclear powered trains. The only alternative is that the unstoppable sinister force really is unstoppable. Which isn't my cup of tea, but is at least bearable as long as the inevitable and logical outcome isn't presented as a twist ending.
No group of invaders could stand to be that lame. Trust me. When the replicates come, they'll be up front about their scheme. Then it'll turn out that their scheme is to only kill and replace violent criminals and pedophiles forcing us to grudgingly embrace the new and improved versions. Or perhaps it'll turn out that within 30 days, the invaders completely absorb our memories, causing each wave to re-invade the same spot, looking for clues to what happened to the last group. However it works out, it won't be like the latest remake of Invasion of the Invading Invaders.
As for Narraptor's single-doppelganger theory, I would postulate that it's just as lame. Identical twin, parallel world version, lone alien spore, it doesn't matter. As long as they're content to wear the identifying mustache, it's all good. But once they start thinking the can pull off a hasty impersonation, it's over. Petrified awkward social moments are unearthed from the comedy strata, and held aloft for our enjoyment. It wasn't funny in The Prince and The Pauper, and it's not funny now. So, I promise you this: There are no replacements going on around Canned Food And Shotguns. We simply have too much respect to inflict that on you, which means that our replicants have too much respect to enact such a scheme and not break character to the point of ruining their disguise.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking about about The Thing and Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. The Thing was good, but breaking that law broke John Carpenter. It took a few more movies for the suck to fully set in, but now all he does is stay in his room all day, wondering if it was worth fucking with the universe. Then he continues with is plans for Ghosts Of Jupiter. And Bill And Ted's Bougus Journey sucks compared to what might have been. But I have seen the past. In it, there was an even better Bill and Ted movie, where instead of evil robot doppelgangers they had to fight the laid-pack wuss rockers they would turn into in the distant future. I swear to you, it was beautiful, and predicted the apperance of Creed to a disturbing extant. Then I ended up killing someone's grandfather, and that movie never happened.
I should have expected it. After all, time machines run exclusively on dead grandfathers.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
A Premeditated Lapse In Connectivity
Help! I seem to have attracted a "biggest fan." He has insinuated himself into my life by kidnapping Mr. Bile and posting on our blog and Internet message boards using his screen name. His deception has extended so far that he has not posted for a whole week, just like the real Mr. Bile. He has an unhealthy interest in my out of print Cat Paws mysteries, and is demanding a third installment where the serial killer is a dog. To use his wording:
"As dogs are like aliens to cats, Night Taco can't use his ability to see what the killer sees to stop the dog. Or if he does, it will drive him insane. You're the author, so what do you think would be better? Either way, the dog gets away with it and is adopted by Night Taco's owner at the end of the book, setting up further mysteries. Then in the next one, the dog can starting molding the owner into a serial killer like Son of Sam or Apt Pupil. Are you going to be playing Ticket to Ride on-line later? I have your porn, too."
Living on the west coast, I can no longer ask myself, "What would Misery guy do?" Instead, I looked to the works of Dean Koontz. The answer was clear.
I am going into hiding for the weekend. This hiding place involves snow, which will hopefully blind the psychic radar of my "BF." I will bring some children's stories I haven't written along for protection, or perhaps dissolve into the crowd of every other Angeleno who thought, "There's snow in them 'thar hills!" this weekend. Hopefully the nightmare will end by Sunday, with someone having tripped over a dog and fallen down the stairs into the light that shines within us all.
I post this here because although I know BF is posting drafts to the blog and not publishing them to continue his Mr. Bile facade, like the rest of the universe, he doesn't actually read it. Assuming I live through the weekend, remind me to get on some forums and start the cross-promotion drive.
"As dogs are like aliens to cats, Night Taco can't use his ability to see what the killer sees to stop the dog. Or if he does, it will drive him insane. You're the author, so what do you think would be better? Either way, the dog gets away with it and is adopted by Night Taco's owner at the end of the book, setting up further mysteries. Then in the next one, the dog can starting molding the owner into a serial killer like Son of Sam or Apt Pupil. Are you going to be playing Ticket to Ride on-line later? I have your porn, too."
Living on the west coast, I can no longer ask myself, "What would Misery guy do?" Instead, I looked to the works of Dean Koontz. The answer was clear.
I am going into hiding for the weekend. This hiding place involves snow, which will hopefully blind the psychic radar of my "BF." I will bring some children's stories I haven't written along for protection, or perhaps dissolve into the crowd of every other Angeleno who thought, "There's snow in them 'thar hills!" this weekend. Hopefully the nightmare will end by Sunday, with someone having tripped over a dog and fallen down the stairs into the light that shines within us all.
I post this here because although I know BF is posting drafts to the blog and not publishing them to continue his Mr. Bile facade, like the rest of the universe, he doesn't actually read it. Assuming I live through the weekend, remind me to get on some forums and start the cross-promotion drive.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
My Free Book Collection
Like C'thulhu, Jack Chick circles the realms of being a pop culture figure, without actually ever entering it. He remains on the fringes, having to be content only with having a vast number of devoted fans. People love his works so much, they purchase his books and leaven them out in random places for total strangers to pick up. This still amazes me. Even when I gave out copies of Resume With Monsters and A Night In The Lonesome October, it was to friends I knew would eventually read them. Perhaps this shows my lack of faith in the written word. If I can buy some copies of A Game Of Thrones cheap enough, surely I can spread the gospel of George R. R. Martin to my fellow man.
Still, I harbored doubts that this was really happening. People might have claimed such things occurred, but much like evolution, gravity, and the final episode of Forever Knight, I had never witnessed a Chick Tract discovery with my own eyes. For all I knew, it might just be a wacky idea that ought to be true. While I knew several people who had one or two laying about, far as I know, they had always been bought, and not found in the wild. Stooping to such methods feels like cheating, but what could they do?
It turns out that my problems were all about my location. After all, why bother to distribute anti-Catholic tracts in an area notably short of Catholics? Now that I live in the lands of ice and snow, I can hunt the books down like pokémon on the shelves of my local Wal-Mart.
The first one I found was placed in front of Taco Bell brand taco shells. It had been translated entirely into Spanish, in a move that smacks of badly targeted marketing. Though my grasp of Spanish has degraded to simply being able to say "Me need bread!," and "Blue," the gist of the book was as follows:
1- People with turbans want to kill you.
2- Buddhists are secretly Muslims.
3- God!
Afterwards, I would occasionally find one page screeds by other authors, usually written in the Comic Sans font and adorned with eerily familiar clip art. But until last week, I had yet to spot another book by the man himself.
This one is called This Was Your Life, and there were at least three copies of it in the juice aisle alone. In it, a man dies, and gets his reward. The ending is about what you'd expect from a comic where the man's first words when he sees an angel are "But you don't understand. Heaven and Hell are here on Earth!- I've always said that!"
In case this foreknowledge might cause the reader interest, almost every sentence ends in an exclamation point. Exceptions are made for questions, and biblical scripture is allowed to keep its periods, which are the product of a more sedate age.
The books still disappoints me, though. I haven't thought about actually starting a collection, but if I were to run across an ultra-rare Chick Track, I might change my mind. Even a copy of Dark Dungeons could cause me to be a wannabe hipster with a collection of dubious irony. But to my disappointment, not only is This Was Your Life! Chick's most popular book, I have the ultra-common Caucasian edition. It reminds me of when I wanted to collect stamps, and then got told all the good ones were already taken.
But this discovery did remind me that the theatre next door to my apartment was putting on a show called Last Chance: The Drama. None of the posters would say what it was about. Only that the show was free, included fog and strobe lights, that it was sponsored by a local church group who were providing free day care for the eight year olds who were not advised to attend. I drew my own conclusions. Still, I was tempted to go. I've missed every show put on in that theatre, including the free movies, the haunted house, and a play of The Little Shop Of Horrors. But there was only one night of the show left, and I had laundry to do.
In the end, laundry won. It wasn't that hard a decision to make once I realized I had run out of clean socks. The next day, I found a one-page tract in the empty space where salmonella-tainted peanut butter once stood. It featured a theatre whose marquee reads, "Now Showing: TOO!" Inside, it features a theatre that shows nothing but people too busy to think about God, and thus to go to his theatre and see the movie about them.
I wonder if this was coincidence, or planned from the very beginning?
Still, I harbored doubts that this was really happening. People might have claimed such things occurred, but much like evolution, gravity, and the final episode of Forever Knight, I had never witnessed a Chick Tract discovery with my own eyes. For all I knew, it might just be a wacky idea that ought to be true. While I knew several people who had one or two laying about, far as I know, they had always been bought, and not found in the wild. Stooping to such methods feels like cheating, but what could they do?
It turns out that my problems were all about my location. After all, why bother to distribute anti-Catholic tracts in an area notably short of Catholics? Now that I live in the lands of ice and snow, I can hunt the books down like pokémon on the shelves of my local Wal-Mart.
The first one I found was placed in front of Taco Bell brand taco shells. It had been translated entirely into Spanish, in a move that smacks of badly targeted marketing. Though my grasp of Spanish has degraded to simply being able to say "Me need bread!," and "Blue," the gist of the book was as follows:
1- People with turbans want to kill you.
2- Buddhists are secretly Muslims.
3- God!
Afterwards, I would occasionally find one page screeds by other authors, usually written in the Comic Sans font and adorned with eerily familiar clip art. But until last week, I had yet to spot another book by the man himself.
This one is called This Was Your Life, and there were at least three copies of it in the juice aisle alone. In it, a man dies, and gets his reward. The ending is about what you'd expect from a comic where the man's first words when he sees an angel are "But you don't understand. Heaven and Hell are here on Earth!- I've always said that!"
In case this foreknowledge might cause the reader interest, almost every sentence ends in an exclamation point. Exceptions are made for questions, and biblical scripture is allowed to keep its periods, which are the product of a more sedate age.
The books still disappoints me, though. I haven't thought about actually starting a collection, but if I were to run across an ultra-rare Chick Track, I might change my mind. Even a copy of Dark Dungeons could cause me to be a wannabe hipster with a collection of dubious irony. But to my disappointment, not only is This Was Your Life! Chick's most popular book, I have the ultra-common Caucasian edition. It reminds me of when I wanted to collect stamps, and then got told all the good ones were already taken.
But this discovery did remind me that the theatre next door to my apartment was putting on a show called Last Chance: The Drama. None of the posters would say what it was about. Only that the show was free, included fog and strobe lights, that it was sponsored by a local church group who were providing free day care for the eight year olds who were not advised to attend. I drew my own conclusions. Still, I was tempted to go. I've missed every show put on in that theatre, including the free movies, the haunted house, and a play of The Little Shop Of Horrors. But there was only one night of the show left, and I had laundry to do.
In the end, laundry won. It wasn't that hard a decision to make once I realized I had run out of clean socks. The next day, I found a one-page tract in the empty space where salmonella-tainted peanut butter once stood. It featured a theatre whose marquee reads, "Now Showing: TOO!" Inside, it features a theatre that shows nothing but people too busy to think about God, and thus to go to his theatre and see the movie about them.
I wonder if this was coincidence, or planned from the very beginning?
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Lost: Flashes Before Your Eyes
What makes an episode of Lost great, or for the growing population of indifferent viewers out there, still worth programming into your TiVo? Does it answer questions you've had since the previous season? Introduce new mysteries? Feature supernatural or sci-fi events? Reveal more about a character's past or their connections to other inhabitants of the island? Does it turn your expectations of the series upside down? Does it actually advance the plot?
Whatever your answer, last week's Desmond episode had something for even the most jaded viewer.
Full disclosure: I'm a sucker for episodes that play with the flashback formula. "...In Translation", the first (and only) Jin episode, deconstructed our previous wife's-eye-view of his relationship. "Exodus," the first season finale, broke the mold by showing how everyone interacted when they boarded Oceanic Flight 815. "The Other 48 Days" depicted what happened to the survivors of the tail section of the plane. "Maternity Leave" filled in a gap of missing time, showing us what happened to Claire when she was kidnapped by The Others. Similar episodes followed, detailing Michael's time spent with The Others and Desmond's history in the hatch.
But the latest twist on the flashback formula was really clever. "Flashes Before Your Eyes" was two flashbacks at the same time.
There have been hints from the producers that on the island, time may not be what it seems. This caused some speculation that perhaps the plane had crashed in a year other than when the show premiered, or that the island existed outside of time and space and if the castaways ever escape they will return to the real world at the same time they left it. (Last season's finale negated both of these hypotheses, and Lost tie-ins like Bad Twin indicate that time has indeed passed in the real world since the plane disappeared.)
Clues as to what was actually going on started to appear early this season, with Desmond referring to future events in past tense, a cameo appearance by A Brief History of Time, and hidden in the brainwashing video from the Juliet flashback, "Not in Portland." When the audio is played backward, the filmstrip in Room 23 repeats "Only fools are enslaved to time and space."
Make sure to check that out the link. It's pretty creepy.
It's debateable whether or not Desmond actually went anywhere or was just hallucinating. As the folks at LOSTcasts point out, Wizard of Oz references abound in this episode, and the grey-haired oracle who tells Desmond that he can't change the past or the future could very well be an incarnation of the Smoke Monster. But I think that's missing the point. Desmond's body didn't go anywhere. His mind did.
I don't know much about physics, but there are several religions that teach that time is not a straight line, but occurs all at once. Turning the key exposed Desmond to his entire life. He isn't seeing the future. He's remembering it.
What's so intriguing about this is that the only other entity we know of that's been able to see the past is the Smoke Monster (thanks again to LOSTcasts for bringing this to my attention), and that changing the future is the mission statement of the Hanso Foundation. The latter topic has been referenced in the show, but if you're really stumped as to why I think this show is still on track, I suggest you look up The Valenzetti Equation.
Also, the twist at the end guarantees that the next Charlie episode will actually be interesting.
Whatever your answer, last week's Desmond episode had something for even the most jaded viewer.
Full disclosure: I'm a sucker for episodes that play with the flashback formula. "...In Translation", the first (and only) Jin episode, deconstructed our previous wife's-eye-view of his relationship. "Exodus," the first season finale, broke the mold by showing how everyone interacted when they boarded Oceanic Flight 815. "The Other 48 Days" depicted what happened to the survivors of the tail section of the plane. "Maternity Leave" filled in a gap of missing time, showing us what happened to Claire when she was kidnapped by The Others. Similar episodes followed, detailing Michael's time spent with The Others and Desmond's history in the hatch.
But the latest twist on the flashback formula was really clever. "Flashes Before Your Eyes" was two flashbacks at the same time.
There have been hints from the producers that on the island, time may not be what it seems. This caused some speculation that perhaps the plane had crashed in a year other than when the show premiered, or that the island existed outside of time and space and if the castaways ever escape they will return to the real world at the same time they left it. (Last season's finale negated both of these hypotheses, and Lost tie-ins like Bad Twin indicate that time has indeed passed in the real world since the plane disappeared.)
Clues as to what was actually going on started to appear early this season, with Desmond referring to future events in past tense, a cameo appearance by A Brief History of Time, and hidden in the brainwashing video from the Juliet flashback, "Not in Portland." When the audio is played backward, the filmstrip in Room 23 repeats "Only fools are enslaved to time and space."
Make sure to check that out the link. It's pretty creepy.
It's debateable whether or not Desmond actually went anywhere or was just hallucinating. As the folks at LOSTcasts point out, Wizard of Oz references abound in this episode, and the grey-haired oracle who tells Desmond that he can't change the past or the future could very well be an incarnation of the Smoke Monster. But I think that's missing the point. Desmond's body didn't go anywhere. His mind did.
I don't know much about physics, but there are several religions that teach that time is not a straight line, but occurs all at once. Turning the key exposed Desmond to his entire life. He isn't seeing the future. He's remembering it.
What's so intriguing about this is that the only other entity we know of that's been able to see the past is the Smoke Monster (thanks again to LOSTcasts for bringing this to my attention), and that changing the future is the mission statement of the Hanso Foundation. The latter topic has been referenced in the show, but if you're really stumped as to why I think this show is still on track, I suggest you look up The Valenzetti Equation.
Also, the twist at the end guarantees that the next Charlie episode will actually be interesting.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Played: Legend Of Zelda
Welcome to my first post in the new, redefined world of Canned Food And Shotguns. A world where my place in the lineup is in jeopardy. Hopefully, a letter writing campaign can save me from getting cancelled. Owing to our small readership, and my even smaller writership, many of these letters will have to come from an army of alternate identities. Some of these include "Czar," which was chosen back in the day that most video games allowed you to name the main character, but only if the name was four to six letters long. "Vainglory" came later, since it both communicates a sense of overweening pride, and also isn't likely to be already taken in most MMORPGS. These fictional characters will be defending my recent lack of presence with the kind of dedication that they show when strip mining an entire desert, or rekilling Gandling the Gandarian until he drops a nice hat. Other pseudonyms that will be defending me include "Neville," who possesses possibly the weakest British accent I have ever heard, and the random letters that adorn my name badge at work.
There is good news, however. I have now found a way to awake in the afternoon that surpasses even the Amazing Lordi Machine. It involves a device that actually shakes the bed with rage, while ringing an alarm that causes my eyes to weep tears of blood. These very tears prevent me from finding my way back to my own bed, leaving me no choice to remain awake. I am pinning entirely too much hope that this will prevent me from sleeping away an additional four to seven hours every day. According the flow charts I have drawn up, this will lead to a great increase in both productivity and the kinds of unproductiveness that fuel blog articles.
I finally beat the new Legend of Zelda, for example. I was inspired to do so after finding out that EB Games is randomly calling people who own it, and begging for their game back.
You play as Link, an eerily animated mannequin who has three facial expressions: Neutral, Mildly Amused, and Shocked. As you progress through the game, you will meet a number of people, and try to guess if Link actually likes them, of if he's planning on killing them in their sleep. If Link himself knows, he isn't talking.
The first third of The Legend Of Zelda: Twilight Princess introduces a decently sized cast of characters, a slew of different minigame events to keep things interesting, a simple but competent plotline, and the occasional reason to turn into a wolf. The last third of the game has none of those elements, but does throw in a multi-part fetch quest that opens up an even longer fetch quest. The middle third is where you while away the hours, happily collecting pieces of heart and glowing bugs instead of advancing the plot.
The game mechanics are enjoyable, with some strong caveats. Link leaps forwards whenever he damn well pleases, and doesn't care if you were only trying to get near a cliff ledge to get a better view. Their are two different styles of swordfighting. The first style involves attacks, parries, and a general sense of derring-do. Alternatively, you can just hit the A button whenever the "Hit the A button to instantly kill the enemy!" message appears on the screen. Almost all the bosses are puzzles, generally on the order of "Use the item that you just got on the thing you can use it on. Then hit a glowing eye with your sword." If the puzzle's too much for you, then you can talk to a magical hint-giving demon for advice.
Things do pick up right at the end, as you engage in a series of enjoyable battles against a foe that refuses to die without the maximum amount of drama allowed by law. Then, you'll be treated to an ending that is very... anime.
Dammit.
There is good news, however. I have now found a way to awake in the afternoon that surpasses even the Amazing Lordi Machine. It involves a device that actually shakes the bed with rage, while ringing an alarm that causes my eyes to weep tears of blood. These very tears prevent me from finding my way back to my own bed, leaving me no choice to remain awake. I am pinning entirely too much hope that this will prevent me from sleeping away an additional four to seven hours every day. According the flow charts I have drawn up, this will lead to a great increase in both productivity and the kinds of unproductiveness that fuel blog articles.
I finally beat the new Legend of Zelda, for example. I was inspired to do so after finding out that EB Games is randomly calling people who own it, and begging for their game back.
You play as Link, an eerily animated mannequin who has three facial expressions: Neutral, Mildly Amused, and Shocked. As you progress through the game, you will meet a number of people, and try to guess if Link actually likes them, of if he's planning on killing them in their sleep. If Link himself knows, he isn't talking.
The first third of The Legend Of Zelda: Twilight Princess introduces a decently sized cast of characters, a slew of different minigame events to keep things interesting, a simple but competent plotline, and the occasional reason to turn into a wolf. The last third of the game has none of those elements, but does throw in a multi-part fetch quest that opens up an even longer fetch quest. The middle third is where you while away the hours, happily collecting pieces of heart and glowing bugs instead of advancing the plot.
The game mechanics are enjoyable, with some strong caveats. Link leaps forwards whenever he damn well pleases, and doesn't care if you were only trying to get near a cliff ledge to get a better view. Their are two different styles of swordfighting. The first style involves attacks, parries, and a general sense of derring-do. Alternatively, you can just hit the A button whenever the "Hit the A button to instantly kill the enemy!" message appears on the screen. Almost all the bosses are puzzles, generally on the order of "Use the item that you just got on the thing you can use it on. Then hit a glowing eye with your sword." If the puzzle's too much for you, then you can talk to a magical hint-giving demon for advice.
Things do pick up right at the end, as you engage in a series of enjoyable battles against a foe that refuses to die without the maximum amount of drama allowed by law. Then, you'll be treated to an ending that is very... anime.
Dammit.
Midseason Replacements
My Lost propaganda machine is on hiatus. Taking its place for the next 24 hours or so are topics everyone can agree don't deserve a full season. If the Internet fanbase to lost causes is vocal enough, the unaired conclusions to these thoughts will find their way onto the web in the near future.
Replacement #1: Joe Rogan Update
My opinion of Joe Rogan has come full circle. First he was Joe on Newsradio. My thoughts on that phase of his career should be obvious. Then he entered his critic-bashing stage, which I have commented on in the past. Early last year he ventured into new territory, getting into a fierce MySpace battle over whether he was funny or not. I wasn't sure what to think of that, other than that he won. But where would he go from there?
The new Videocracy feature at The Onion A.V. Club provided the answer. Joe would call out Carlos Mencia as a hack in a mini-documentary and distribute it for free on the Internet. (I have linked the iFilm site, as yesterday YouTube removed the video on Carlos Mencia's--excuse me--Ned's claim that him calling Joe a little bitch violated his copyright privileges.) I don't know if this claim is true or not. What I do know is that Joe risked employment opportunities to slam a comedian who trades in the lowest common denominators of racism and catchphrases.
Joe also writes a very dramatic blog. Give the man some duct tape.
Replacement #2: Intolerable Podcasts
I take great care when picking the links to extra content that grace this site's sidebar. It really is there for you when you want to read about/listen to the same topics we write about when we're too lazy to do it ourselves. Someday soon I will divulge what makes each individual link tolerable. In the meantime, allow me to discuss what makes a podcast intolerable--bad jokes, laughter that blows your ears out, uninformed commentators, condescension, and above all, lists. My hat of lists no know limit.
I had previously judged the Geeks On podcast as tolerable on the strength of its sci-fi/fantasy interviews and occasional recommendations (via list) that I had not heard of. I'll admit, I was also a sucker for the fact that the hosts not only seemed to enjoy living in Los Angeles, but found enough people willing to work gaming into their schedules that they could actually play board games and RPGs on a regular basis instead of staring longingly at their shelves while fondling their dice bags.
My enthusiasm waned as the self-proclaimed "weekly" podcast produced four episodes in the last two months. Three of those were dedicated entirely to lists: a Christmas geek list (which included such unknown gems as A Song of Ice and Fire and Watchmen), a list of geek movies coming out in 2007 (where they still didn't know that 1408 is based on one of the best Stephen King short stories evar, and that's why it will suck), and the Valentine's Day episode, which started out with a list that drove me into Tourette's fits during my commute, and continued with not only more lists and the most condescending dating advice evar, but used the word "geek" so gratuitously I actually started to get offended. And that was before one of the hosts' significant others confessed that she didn't get the difference between tabletop role-playing and LARPing. (It was eventually explained that the latter involved werewolves and cosplay.)
For the curious, the catalyst that lead this podcast into the realm of intolerability was a list of "15 Geek Films to See Before You Die." It contained such unheard and definitively non-mainstream films as The Fifth Element, Army of Darkness, Office Space, War Games, and The Matrix. Can any astute readers fill me in on what these movies are about? The Matrix...wasn't the guy from Point Break in that?
Geeks On, I always doubted that your geek was actually on. Now I know. You're off the list and you're off my iTunes. And when Mr. Bile goes back to double-check the tags on our first 100 posts, I'm having him delete every use of the word "geek" as well. You revelled in the label to a point where it became embarrassing again.
I'm not a geek. I'm goddamn interesting.
Replacement #3: Mr. Bile
I don't know what the fuck happened to him. Forget searching for more contributors. If he doesn't post something that only Mr. Bile could say by the end of the day, I'm holding auditions for a new Mr. Bile.
Replacement #1: Joe Rogan Update
My opinion of Joe Rogan has come full circle. First he was Joe on Newsradio. My thoughts on that phase of his career should be obvious. Then he entered his critic-bashing stage, which I have commented on in the past. Early last year he ventured into new territory, getting into a fierce MySpace battle over whether he was funny or not. I wasn't sure what to think of that, other than that he won. But where would he go from there?
The new Videocracy feature at The Onion A.V. Club provided the answer. Joe would call out Carlos Mencia as a hack in a mini-documentary and distribute it for free on the Internet. (I have linked the iFilm site, as yesterday YouTube removed the video on Carlos Mencia's--excuse me--Ned's claim that him calling Joe a little bitch violated his copyright privileges.) I don't know if this claim is true or not. What I do know is that Joe risked employment opportunities to slam a comedian who trades in the lowest common denominators of racism and catchphrases.
Joe also writes a very dramatic blog. Give the man some duct tape.
Replacement #2: Intolerable Podcasts
I take great care when picking the links to extra content that grace this site's sidebar. It really is there for you when you want to read about/listen to the same topics we write about when we're too lazy to do it ourselves. Someday soon I will divulge what makes each individual link tolerable. In the meantime, allow me to discuss what makes a podcast intolerable--bad jokes, laughter that blows your ears out, uninformed commentators, condescension, and above all, lists. My hat of lists no know limit.
I had previously judged the Geeks On podcast as tolerable on the strength of its sci-fi/fantasy interviews and occasional recommendations (via list) that I had not heard of. I'll admit, I was also a sucker for the fact that the hosts not only seemed to enjoy living in Los Angeles, but found enough people willing to work gaming into their schedules that they could actually play board games and RPGs on a regular basis instead of staring longingly at their shelves while fondling their dice bags.
My enthusiasm waned as the self-proclaimed "weekly" podcast produced four episodes in the last two months. Three of those were dedicated entirely to lists: a Christmas geek list (which included such unknown gems as A Song of Ice and Fire and Watchmen), a list of geek movies coming out in 2007 (where they still didn't know that 1408 is based on one of the best Stephen King short stories evar, and that's why it will suck), and the Valentine's Day episode, which started out with a list that drove me into Tourette's fits during my commute, and continued with not only more lists and the most condescending dating advice evar, but used the word "geek" so gratuitously I actually started to get offended. And that was before one of the hosts' significant others confessed that she didn't get the difference between tabletop role-playing and LARPing. (It was eventually explained that the latter involved werewolves and cosplay.)
For the curious, the catalyst that lead this podcast into the realm of intolerability was a list of "15 Geek Films to See Before You Die." It contained such unheard and definitively non-mainstream films as The Fifth Element, Army of Darkness, Office Space, War Games, and The Matrix. Can any astute readers fill me in on what these movies are about? The Matrix...wasn't the guy from Point Break in that?
Geeks On, I always doubted that your geek was actually on. Now I know. You're off the list and you're off my iTunes. And when Mr. Bile goes back to double-check the tags on our first 100 posts, I'm having him delete every use of the word "geek" as well. You revelled in the label to a point where it became embarrassing again.
I'm not a geek. I'm goddamn interesting.
Replacement #3: Mr. Bile
I don't know what the fuck happened to him. Forget searching for more contributors. If he doesn't post something that only Mr. Bile could say by the end of the day, I'm holding auditions for a new Mr. Bile.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Six Paragraph Prologue
I have been going through all our old posts adding tags and embiggening the font when necessary. Battlestar Galactica-related posts lead with 11 tags, role-playing and board games tie at 5, and monsters have 4. With the exception of the subject of this post, everything else comes in at 3 or less, but this will probably change when I assign Mr. Bile to give our archives a once over. (Why isn't The Night You'd Never Forget tagged under "haunted house"? It was late and I was tired.)
Afterwards, we will compile a list of all the tags used only once and call for a vote on what topics should be expanded upon and by whom. I expect essays on beings of pure energy, the Frogtown barrier, and "..." to be high on our list of reader requests. But what do I know? I received no phone calls, comments, or e-mails about the state of my emotional health after posting this.
It's actually been a week of nightmares, but I think it has to do with the season. The "winter" months in Los Angeles not only give me reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder, there's also too much goddamn sunlight coming in my window at 8 in the morning. Bright light! It tastes like burning! Et cetera.
Going through the tags, it makes me sad that Lost has only been addressed in a significant way 7 times. But I guess it makes sense. There have only been 8 episodes so far this season, and I extended my original spoiler embargo out of respect for Mr. Bile.
Actually, respect had nothing to do with it. What sort of insane person sits on addictive serial entertainment when they can down a fifth of cliffhangers in less than 24 hours? I was just being patient out of habit. That's all out the window now. Though he might be able to avoid reading my posts about the latest episodes, I can spoil plot twists faster than he can hang up the phone.
I've also held back on Lost love for the same reason I haven't written about Battlestar Galactica in the last two weeks. I'd rather create a blog for no one in particular than for one specific fanbase. (Yes, I know this doesn't equate to success, but it's what I want out my Internet media.) But as all the media attention focuses on "Urh, this smart show that requires people to remember what happened four episodes ago is losing viewers," and people are getting paid to not understand it on purpose, I think it's time someone stepped up with an eloquent defense before the first show to get halfway through completing its epic mystery died of viewer apathy.
CANNED FOOD AND SHOTGUNS
Afterwards, we will compile a list of all the tags used only once and call for a vote on what topics should be expanded upon and by whom. I expect essays on beings of pure energy, the Frogtown barrier, and "..." to be high on our list of reader requests. But what do I know? I received no phone calls, comments, or e-mails about the state of my emotional health after posting this.
It's actually been a week of nightmares, but I think it has to do with the season. The "winter" months in Los Angeles not only give me reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder, there's also too much goddamn sunlight coming in my window at 8 in the morning. Bright light! It tastes like burning! Et cetera.
Going through the tags, it makes me sad that Lost has only been addressed in a significant way 7 times. But I guess it makes sense. There have only been 8 episodes so far this season, and I extended my original spoiler embargo out of respect for Mr. Bile.
Actually, respect had nothing to do with it. What sort of insane person sits on addictive serial entertainment when they can down a fifth of cliffhangers in less than 24 hours? I was just being patient out of habit. That's all out the window now. Though he might be able to avoid reading my posts about the latest episodes, I can spoil plot twists faster than he can hang up the phone.
I've also held back on Lost love for the same reason I haven't written about Battlestar Galactica in the last two weeks. I'd rather create a blog for no one in particular than for one specific fanbase. (Yes, I know this doesn't equate to success, but it's what I want out my Internet media.) But as all the media attention focuses on "Urh, this smart show that requires people to remember what happened four episodes ago is losing viewers," and people are getting paid to not understand it on purpose, I think it's time someone stepped up with an eloquent defense before the first show to get halfway through completing its epic mystery died of viewer apathy.
CANNED FOOD AND SHOTGUNS
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
100th Post
Have you ever had that dream where you were on a futuristic basketball court similar to the sports arena in Starship Troopers and pressured into playing a one-on-one pickup game in front of a worldwide audience? You keep trying to explain that you haven't played basketball since high school and don't remember the rules. Warming up, you discover that your arms are so weak you can barely push the ball into the air above your head without doubling over and dry-heaving. When you're forced to sit down to change into your sneakers, the soles of your feet swell and suddenly explode outwards.
There's no pain, and the remaining flesh hangs off in bulbous round clumps, like skin tags the size of large bits of gravel. Inside the hollows of your feet, aliens akin to Veggie Tales characters are gestating. You easily remove the purple one from one foot and place it in a bin that looks as if it was stolen from an airport security checkpoint. Instead of shoes, there are several other alien creatures in the bin. They talk incessantly to each other and look around the stadium with eyes of full of wonder.
You reach into your other foot and squeeze your hands around the second parasite. It is a wet, twisting intestine made of sand. You know instinctively that it has not yet come to term, and that it may be hours or days before it can be removed. Nearly insane, you pull it out. It squeals and writhes in your palm, and torrents of blood pour from holes in your umbilical foot. Pain shoots from your toes to your groin. And then you wake up.
I went to see Dead Man's Party on Saturday, the only Oingo Boingo tribute band with the official endorsement of Richard Elfman. Their keyboardist has his own swing band, Lee Press-On and the Nails. I'm not normally into that sort of thing, but who am I to resist a swing cover of "Mexican Radio"?
There's no pain, and the remaining flesh hangs off in bulbous round clumps, like skin tags the size of large bits of gravel. Inside the hollows of your feet, aliens akin to Veggie Tales characters are gestating. You easily remove the purple one from one foot and place it in a bin that looks as if it was stolen from an airport security checkpoint. Instead of shoes, there are several other alien creatures in the bin. They talk incessantly to each other and look around the stadium with eyes of full of wonder.
You reach into your other foot and squeeze your hands around the second parasite. It is a wet, twisting intestine made of sand. You know instinctively that it has not yet come to term, and that it may be hours or days before it can be removed. Nearly insane, you pull it out. It squeals and writhes in your palm, and torrents of blood pour from holes in your umbilical foot. Pain shoots from your toes to your groin. And then you wake up.
I went to see Dead Man's Party on Saturday, the only Oingo Boingo tribute band with the official endorsement of Richard Elfman. Their keyboardist has his own swing band, Lee Press-On and the Nails. I'm not normally into that sort of thing, but who am I to resist a swing cover of "Mexican Radio"?
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Monsters, Friends, and Asses
You might not have taken the time to check out our highly selective list of tolerable links. Allow me call your attention to the Fear the Boot podcast.
Fear the Boot began as a "how to role-play good" show. More recently, the FTB crew has been detailing how to create a marketable tabletop RPG. As an example, they are offering a behind the scenes look at the creative process behind Skies of Glass, their post-apocalypse game where radiation does not give characters superpowers.
If you've ever wondered why some games use d20s and others rely on d6s, you should check it out. And if you've never thought about that (I didn't), then you really should give it a listen. Understanding how a game's mechanics match its feel (what you want to do in the game vs. your odds to succeed) will help you to spend your game time wisely.
The latest Fear the Boot podcast is an interview with Ryan Dancey, the guy responsible for Wizards of the Coast buying out D&D. There's a lot of stuff in there to interest role-players, even those of the casual, lapsed, and MMO variety. He discusses how games are marketed more to players than DMs, how White Wolf changed the gamer demographic, and how MMOs are both killing the tabletop market and offer the chance to bring real role-playing to the Internet. (I'm still waiting for that point and click meets Ventrillo RPG interface that Neverwinter Nights always wanted to be.)
They also do bonus episodes on subjects ranging from videogames to the D&D movies to cigars and candy. I highly recommend the Ryan Dancey interview, though. It's the most interesting podcast I've listened to since that guy on GFW got my hopes up about Vanguard.
Go forth and listen, and in the future we will celebrate World Wide Wing Night with buffalo sauce and copious amounts of beer.
Fear the Boot began as a "how to role-play good" show. More recently, the FTB crew has been detailing how to create a marketable tabletop RPG. As an example, they are offering a behind the scenes look at the creative process behind Skies of Glass, their post-apocalypse game where radiation does not give characters superpowers.
If you've ever wondered why some games use d20s and others rely on d6s, you should check it out. And if you've never thought about that (I didn't), then you really should give it a listen. Understanding how a game's mechanics match its feel (what you want to do in the game vs. your odds to succeed) will help you to spend your game time wisely.
The latest Fear the Boot podcast is an interview with Ryan Dancey, the guy responsible for Wizards of the Coast buying out D&D. There's a lot of stuff in there to interest role-players, even those of the casual, lapsed, and MMO variety. He discusses how games are marketed more to players than DMs, how White Wolf changed the gamer demographic, and how MMOs are both killing the tabletop market and offer the chance to bring real role-playing to the Internet. (I'm still waiting for that point and click meets Ventrillo RPG interface that Neverwinter Nights always wanted to be.)
They also do bonus episodes on subjects ranging from videogames to the D&D movies to cigars and candy. I highly recommend the Ryan Dancey interview, though. It's the most interesting podcast I've listened to since that guy on GFW got my hopes up about Vanguard.
Go forth and listen, and in the future we will celebrate World Wide Wing Night with buffalo sauce and copious amounts of beer.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Alessandra's Fishbob
Rather than lay down yet another argument for why Stanley's hatred of smart television is a terrible thing, I am just going to assume you allready agree, or at least are willing to pretend that you do for the rest of your life. This allows me the space I need to indulge in the blogging tradition of hammering at a piece of misinformation until it bleeds.
In this case, I'd like to focus on the opening statement that forms the crux of Stanley's attack.
Anyone who thinks it’s a good sign that “Lost” is back has not spent enough time at the Web site of James Randi, a skeptical scholar of the pseudoscientific and the supernatural.
A fan recently posed this question online at randi.org: “Is a fascination and increased belief in the supernatural a sign of social decline?”
The answer came as categorically as the words under the Magic 8-Ball: “Yes. Absolutely.” [NYT excerpt by Alessandra Stanley]
The link Stanley provided leads to Randi's Website, but not to the forum she is refering to. Luckily, the site has a search function that leads to the only forum post that matches up with the quotes provided.
Stanley had to wait for twelve responses for her categorical answer, but once given, it seems pretty clear. Fishbob hates superstition almost as much as he hates misplaced apostrophes. You might know Fishbob better as James Randi himself. In all likelihood you'd be wrong about that, but Stanley's article certainly implies that Fishbob at least speaks with the voice of Randi. It's entirely possible she knows something about him I don't.
Of course, Fishbob wasn't talking about the third season of Lost. For one thing, this recent conversation took place in March of 2006. Also, it's not in the "Entertainment" thread, where one can find a 16 page thread devoted to Lost. Stanley's quote is located is in the Politics, Current Events, and Social Issues subsection of "General Academics." Fishbob might hate it when people are fascinated with supposedly supernatural events in the real world, but he's not saying much about television.
I wonder why this particular quote was even chosen. There has to be better quotes to steal out there, and I'd imagine they'd be easier to find than a year old forum post. How did she even know this existed? Perhaps a year ago, she was investigating what sort of person would bother asking what James Randi fans thought about the supernatural, and the lines stuck with her. I'd honestly like to know.
Still, it makes for a nice misleading quote for the insufficiently skeptical. I'm sure that's the sort of thing Randi's all about, when he isn't unbending spoons with the power of his mighty beard.
Of course, it's possible there really is a Q & A with a LOST-hating Real James Randi on the site, and I'm just unable to find it. This is why reporters are supposed to attribute their quotes. This prevents people like me from asking, "Your magic eight ball of truth is some guy called Fishbob?!" Instead, I'd be forced to ask why she claims to hate magic so much, but didn't even mention Jack Bauer and his magical teleporting car.
In this case, I'd like to focus on the opening statement that forms the crux of Stanley's attack.
Anyone who thinks it’s a good sign that “Lost” is back has not spent enough time at the Web site of James Randi, a skeptical scholar of the pseudoscientific and the supernatural.
A fan recently posed this question online at randi.org: “Is a fascination and increased belief in the supernatural a sign of social decline?”
The answer came as categorically as the words under the Magic 8-Ball: “Yes. Absolutely.” [NYT excerpt by Alessandra Stanley]
The link Stanley provided leads to Randi's Website, but not to the forum she is refering to. Luckily, the site has a search function that leads to the only forum post that matches up with the quotes provided.
Stanley had to wait for twelve responses for her categorical answer, but once given, it seems pretty clear. Fishbob hates superstition almost as much as he hates misplaced apostrophes. You might know Fishbob better as James Randi himself. In all likelihood you'd be wrong about that, but Stanley's article certainly implies that Fishbob at least speaks with the voice of Randi. It's entirely possible she knows something about him I don't.
Of course, Fishbob wasn't talking about the third season of Lost. For one thing, this recent conversation took place in March of 2006. Also, it's not in the "Entertainment" thread, where one can find a 16 page thread devoted to Lost. Stanley's quote is located is in the Politics, Current Events, and Social Issues subsection of "General Academics." Fishbob might hate it when people are fascinated with supposedly supernatural events in the real world, but he's not saying much about television.
I wonder why this particular quote was even chosen. There has to be better quotes to steal out there, and I'd imagine they'd be easier to find than a year old forum post. How did she even know this existed? Perhaps a year ago, she was investigating what sort of person would bother asking what James Randi fans thought about the supernatural, and the lines stuck with her. I'd honestly like to know.
Still, it makes for a nice misleading quote for the insufficiently skeptical. I'm sure that's the sort of thing Randi's all about, when he isn't unbending spoons with the power of his mighty beard.
Of course, it's possible there really is a Q & A with a LOST-hating Real James Randi on the site, and I'm just unable to find it. This is why reporters are supposed to attribute their quotes. This prevents people like me from asking, "Your magic eight ball of truth is some guy called Fishbob?!" Instead, I'd be forced to ask why she claims to hate magic so much, but didn't even mention Jack Bauer and his magical teleporting car.
The NYT Can FOATALWOASP
I wanted to write about Lost last night, but I didn't get around to seeing the first new episode of its 16-week uninterrupted run until 2 AM. And when I went on-line to read and blog about it, I got mad. But I didn't want to write a post titled "The New York Times Can Do Some Stuff And Expire." So I took a day to put things into perspective.
The New York Times can Take A Long Walk Off A Short Pier.
The Hater, my ideological counterpart at The Onion AV Club and pop-intellectual hottie, first brought this item to my attention. You can read the full New York Times review she eviscerates on-line. The majority of NYT content is available on the web for free, which is all any self-respecting genre fan should pay to read it from here on out, unless they actually happen to be anti-abortion activists.
(If you skipped both of those links because this started out about Lost and you either haven't seen it or dislike the show for some reason which is not insane, I urge you to reconsider. The NYT author was too bored with the show to even get the details right, so she spent most of her time ranting about Heroes, Battlestar Galactica, supernatural-lite shows like Medium and The Ghost Whisperer, and comics, fantasy, and sci-fi in general. And for you hardcore fans, I'm sure she would have mentioned Firefly, Farscape, or Buffy if she even knew what they were. You know, if they were an "in" elitist thing to rip on.)
I've waged an active campaign against anti-nerd bias in print media for the last few years. As World of Warcraft, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, videogames, and nerdiest of all, teh Interweb, are embraced worldwide, it rankles me when mainstream outlets pay writers who fall back on outdated stereotypes:
"Lost” is at heart a science-fiction thriller, while “Heroes” is more of a comic book, but both genres have a similar appeal: they provide an alternative society for those who don’t fit comfortably into their own. (That is to say, smart, socially awkward adults and all 12-year-old boys.) [NYT excerpt by Alessandra Stanley]
Wait. Television shows with superheroes, epic mysteries, real-world political analogues that feature evil robots, and supernatural procedurals are so popular that you can write about them for a national newspaper, but they are only of interest to pre-teen boys and nerdy adults? Who's really wishing for an alternative society here? For that matter, if a TV show appeals to smart adults, then it has to be smart, too, right?
The NYT can FOATALWOASP. If I want to read uninformed opinions about high-quality genre fiction that requires you to turn your brain on, I can get on the Internet. No one should be paid to be this stupid.
(Edit: I have a lot to say on the subject of ignorant genre criticism, perhaps too much for this post. This article has undergone several edits, and more are anticipated. I refuse, however, to go back and italicize "New York Times.")
The New York Times can Take A Long Walk Off A Short Pier.
The Hater, my ideological counterpart at The Onion AV Club and pop-intellectual hottie, first brought this item to my attention. You can read the full New York Times review she eviscerates on-line. The majority of NYT content is available on the web for free, which is all any self-respecting genre fan should pay to read it from here on out, unless they actually happen to be anti-abortion activists.
(If you skipped both of those links because this started out about Lost and you either haven't seen it or dislike the show for some reason which is not insane, I urge you to reconsider. The NYT author was too bored with the show to even get the details right, so she spent most of her time ranting about Heroes, Battlestar Galactica, supernatural-lite shows like Medium and The Ghost Whisperer, and comics, fantasy, and sci-fi in general. And for you hardcore fans, I'm sure she would have mentioned Firefly, Farscape, or Buffy if she even knew what they were. You know, if they were an "in" elitist thing to rip on.)
I've waged an active campaign against anti-nerd bias in print media for the last few years. As World of Warcraft, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, videogames, and nerdiest of all, teh Interweb, are embraced worldwide, it rankles me when mainstream outlets pay writers who fall back on outdated stereotypes:
"Lost” is at heart a science-fiction thriller, while “Heroes” is more of a comic book, but both genres have a similar appeal: they provide an alternative society for those who don’t fit comfortably into their own. (That is to say, smart, socially awkward adults and all 12-year-old boys.) [NYT excerpt by Alessandra Stanley]
Wait. Television shows with superheroes, epic mysteries, real-world political analogues that feature evil robots, and supernatural procedurals are so popular that you can write about them for a national newspaper, but they are only of interest to pre-teen boys and nerdy adults? Who's really wishing for an alternative society here? For that matter, if a TV show appeals to smart adults, then it has to be smart, too, right?
The NYT can FOATALWOASP. If I want to read uninformed opinions about high-quality genre fiction that requires you to turn your brain on, I can get on the Internet. No one should be paid to be this stupid.
(Edit: I have a lot to say on the subject of ignorant genre criticism, perhaps too much for this post. This article has undergone several edits, and more are anticipated. I refuse, however, to go back and italicize "New York Times.")
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Played: Kill Dr. Lucky
Kill Dr. Lucky is the story of 2 to 7 players who gather at a Clue-like mansion, each with the intent of killing the eponymous Doctor. Players take turns sneaking about the premises, laying in wait for Dr. Lucky, making attempts on his life, and foiling the assassination attempts of the other players. (The game takes place in a time before Internet message boards and instant messaging, so none of the players realize that everyone else in the mansion wants Dr. Lucky dead, too.) The bare bones Director's Cut is available through Cheapass Games, and Titanic Games produces a deluxe edition. One version or the other should be available through your Un/Friendly Local Game Store.
In addition to providing pawns, a very pretty board, and cards of high quality stock (the philosophy of Cheapass Games is that you already have game pieces, dice, etc., so why not pay 5 to 10 bucks for a game instead of 30 to 50?) the Titanic version gives you spite tokens. In previous incarnations of Dr. Lucky, the only way to fail a murder attempt or increase the value of an attack on the Doctor was to play the right cards. Spite tokens offer an extra wrinkle. Every time a player attacks Dr. Lucky and fails, they gain a spite token. These add one point to all future attacks on Dr. Lucky, and, yes, I quadruple-checked, they are not spent in this manner. They are only spent to contribute to a failure, at which point they are given to the player who failed.
Allow me to explain how a board game night involving Kill Dr. Lucky usually runs. During first game, which takes 30 minutes to an hour, everyone learns or slowly remembers the rules. The second game lasts half that time. A third game is suggested, now that everyone knows what the hell they're doing and can plan against what went wrong on their second try. The third game doesn't end until the player who is the second most and second least stubborn throws the game.
On a typical board game night, I am the least stubborn person, allowing games to go on far too long after I realize that we've either screwed up the rules or we broke it. Meanwhile, the most stubborn player won't give up because, damn it, we kept at it this long, and they still have a good chance of winning.
The problem with spite tokens is that unless you're playing with people who openly adhere to the Jander School of Failure Cards, the game will never end. In the original Dr. Lucky, failure cards are kept unseen in a player's hand. Spite tokens, however, are on the table. So it's easy for the other players to conclude, "I'm not going to waste failure cards on this attempt, because I know the last guy has enough tokens to take care of it."
Which gives the attacking player more tokens. After all failure cards are spent, the game becomes a tedious exercise in keeping the player with 14 spite tokens away from Dr. Lucky while slowly siphoning those same tokens to other players until their combined efforts can't stop an attack. Or alternatively, the session ends when the second most/least stubborn player says, "Fuck it, I don't want the guy to my left to win."
Which is what spite tokens are all about. The player with the least spite is most likely to harbor the most.
This is not to say that I don't endorse spite. I highly recommend the deluxe version. Spite tokens embrace the gameplay attitude that Jander always understood: "I have two spite tokens here. But if you leave it up to me to save your ass, I'm not spending them. That's why they're called spite tokens."
In addition to providing pawns, a very pretty board, and cards of high quality stock (the philosophy of Cheapass Games is that you already have game pieces, dice, etc., so why not pay 5 to 10 bucks for a game instead of 30 to 50?) the Titanic version gives you spite tokens. In previous incarnations of Dr. Lucky, the only way to fail a murder attempt or increase the value of an attack on the Doctor was to play the right cards. Spite tokens offer an extra wrinkle. Every time a player attacks Dr. Lucky and fails, they gain a spite token. These add one point to all future attacks on Dr. Lucky, and, yes, I quadruple-checked, they are not spent in this manner. They are only spent to contribute to a failure, at which point they are given to the player who failed.
Allow me to explain how a board game night involving Kill Dr. Lucky usually runs. During first game, which takes 30 minutes to an hour, everyone learns or slowly remembers the rules. The second game lasts half that time. A third game is suggested, now that everyone knows what the hell they're doing and can plan against what went wrong on their second try. The third game doesn't end until the player who is the second most and second least stubborn throws the game.
On a typical board game night, I am the least stubborn person, allowing games to go on far too long after I realize that we've either screwed up the rules or we broke it. Meanwhile, the most stubborn player won't give up because, damn it, we kept at it this long, and they still have a good chance of winning.
The problem with spite tokens is that unless you're playing with people who openly adhere to the Jander School of Failure Cards, the game will never end. In the original Dr. Lucky, failure cards are kept unseen in a player's hand. Spite tokens, however, are on the table. So it's easy for the other players to conclude, "I'm not going to waste failure cards on this attempt, because I know the last guy has enough tokens to take care of it."
Which gives the attacking player more tokens. After all failure cards are spent, the game becomes a tedious exercise in keeping the player with 14 spite tokens away from Dr. Lucky while slowly siphoning those same tokens to other players until their combined efforts can't stop an attack. Or alternatively, the session ends when the second most/least stubborn player says, "Fuck it, I don't want the guy to my left to win."
Which is what spite tokens are all about. The player with the least spite is most likely to harbor the most.
This is not to say that I don't endorse spite. I highly recommend the deluxe version. Spite tokens embrace the gameplay attitude that Jander always understood: "I have two spite tokens here. But if you leave it up to me to save your ass, I'm not spending them. That's why they're called spite tokens."
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Viewed: The Messengers
To take my mind off of my current woes, one of my friends took me to see The Messengers.
The good news is that it's by the Pang Brothers, which means that there's some honest spookyness to be found, as well as nice treatments of standard horror tropes. This surprisingly decent film ends the moment the "We don't believe you saw ghosts," subplot rears it's ugly head. From that moment on, you'll be reminded of the time each of your friends had come up with an ending for The Eye that would've been better than the one that was actually filmed. That is, assuming your friends told you about that moment... they might still be worried that you'd be upset you were never invited to their The Eye party.
Are you ready for the big spoilers? Because if not, then not only should you have stopped reading this a few minutes ago, but also stayed away from every other review of the film. Let's take this one for example. It doesn't want to give much about the film away, except to tell you that the ghosts aren't the villains of the piece. And that the ending's obvious, and uses generic twists you've seen many times before.
I am quite confident that you are an intelligent person. Now that you know that the ghosts aren't the villains, but there is a villain to be found, the sudden introduction of a friendly farmhand with an undefined past is going to set all of your alarms ringing. I'd go so far as to say that you might not have made this connection without this preknowledge, since it honestly doesn't make much sense. While I can buy ghosts not being great communicators, there's a difference between being misunderstood, and beating the hell out of people.
The genericness of the plot is something the reader ought to know, but there has to be a better way of going about it. At the very least, the review fails just by trying to compare parts of The Messengers to The Shining, The Ring, or The Grudge. When the movie was meeting my low expectations, I didn't really feel like comparing it to any of those films. And when it wasn't, the only thing that sprang to mind was a dimly-recalled Halloween special on The Lifetime Network.
Of course, just comparing the film to a Lifetime Movie would also probably have given the game away. But at least then you'd be wondering if it was the husband or the handyman who dunnit.
The good news is that it's by the Pang Brothers, which means that there's some honest spookyness to be found, as well as nice treatments of standard horror tropes. This surprisingly decent film ends the moment the "We don't believe you saw ghosts," subplot rears it's ugly head. From that moment on, you'll be reminded of the time each of your friends had come up with an ending for The Eye that would've been better than the one that was actually filmed. That is, assuming your friends told you about that moment... they might still be worried that you'd be upset you were never invited to their The Eye party.
Are you ready for the big spoilers? Because if not, then not only should you have stopped reading this a few minutes ago, but also stayed away from every other review of the film. Let's take this one for example. It doesn't want to give much about the film away, except to tell you that the ghosts aren't the villains of the piece. And that the ending's obvious, and uses generic twists you've seen many times before.
I am quite confident that you are an intelligent person. Now that you know that the ghosts aren't the villains, but there is a villain to be found, the sudden introduction of a friendly farmhand with an undefined past is going to set all of your alarms ringing. I'd go so far as to say that you might not have made this connection without this preknowledge, since it honestly doesn't make much sense. While I can buy ghosts not being great communicators, there's a difference between being misunderstood, and beating the hell out of people.
The genericness of the plot is something the reader ought to know, but there has to be a better way of going about it. At the very least, the review fails just by trying to compare parts of The Messengers to The Shining, The Ring, or The Grudge. When the movie was meeting my low expectations, I didn't really feel like comparing it to any of those films. And when it wasn't, the only thing that sprang to mind was a dimly-recalled Halloween special on The Lifetime Network.
Of course, just comparing the film to a Lifetime Movie would also probably have given the game away. But at least then you'd be wondering if it was the husband or the handyman who dunnit.
Friday, February 02, 2007
You've Got Ghost
Oh, right. You're haunted. I forgot about that. I've been reading comics and playing Dead Rising. Have you tried putting on a Lego mask (note: not a Bionicle mask) and hitting the ghost repeatedly with a bench? It worked in the last Scary Movie, and it's a good way to level up so when you die and restart for the eighth time, you can finally survive the first boss fight long enough for the boss to run away.
Good ol' Pierre LaMay.
But enough mixing my references. I consulted my wife, and it sounds like you've got what we in America, with our inability to pronounce the complicated Japanese language, would call a "ringu." (In Japan, this classification of spirit is simply referred to as a "ring." Tough to wrap your tongue around, right?) Unfortunately, that's all I could get out of her before she barricaded herself in the bathroom with a stack of good china, an abandoned well, Lam Ching-Ying, and a bunch of bureaucratic red tape. She then set off a EMP device. I have been unable to contact her since.
The Japanese don't like ghosts very much. I get the impression that the feeling is mutual.
The good news is that you still have your good luck charm, so you aren't dealing with the ringu I barely escaped on my honeymoon in Tokyo. That would have been a difficult situation to remedy, as I can't remember what kind of candy she liked. The bad news is I don't really have any otaku freelancers on call. They formed a union a few months back, and I can no longer afford their services. So until I return home to my library of occult role-playing sourcebooks, I suggest you do the following:
A) Don't answer the phone
B) Destroy your TV, VCR, and DVD player
C) Discard any devices capable of taking photographs and all yearbooks and photos
D) Remove the blankets and sheets from your bed
E) Avoid anything a ghost might hide inside: closets, showers, water tanks, washing machines, air vents, refrigerators, microwaves, sinks, sleeping bags, hoodie sweatshirts, puddles, boxer briefs, etc.
Follow those guidelines, and you should be able to last a few days while your friends and acquaintances are picked off one by one. I'll get back to you when I have the time, but right now I need to prepare for board game night.
Good ol' Pierre LaMay.
But enough mixing my references. I consulted my wife, and it sounds like you've got what we in America, with our inability to pronounce the complicated Japanese language, would call a "ringu." (In Japan, this classification of spirit is simply referred to as a "ring." Tough to wrap your tongue around, right?) Unfortunately, that's all I could get out of her before she barricaded herself in the bathroom with a stack of good china, an abandoned well, Lam Ching-Ying, and a bunch of bureaucratic red tape. She then set off a EMP device. I have been unable to contact her since.
The Japanese don't like ghosts very much. I get the impression that the feeling is mutual.
The good news is that you still have your good luck charm, so you aren't dealing with the ringu I barely escaped on my honeymoon in Tokyo. That would have been a difficult situation to remedy, as I can't remember what kind of candy she liked. The bad news is I don't really have any otaku freelancers on call. They formed a union a few months back, and I can no longer afford their services. So until I return home to my library of occult role-playing sourcebooks, I suggest you do the following:
A) Don't answer the phone
B) Destroy your TV, VCR, and DVD player
C) Discard any devices capable of taking photographs and all yearbooks and photos
D) Remove the blankets and sheets from your bed
E) Avoid anything a ghost might hide inside: closets, showers, water tanks, washing machines, air vents, refrigerators, microwaves, sinks, sleeping bags, hoodie sweatshirts, puddles, boxer briefs, etc.
Follow those guidelines, and you should be able to last a few days while your friends and acquaintances are picked off one by one. I'll get back to you when I have the time, but right now I need to prepare for board game night.
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