Recent episodes of Lost have been so full of fan service that I haven't felt the need to write about them. There were some decent flashbacks, some long-term mysteries resolved, and a really brilliant WTF. But last night's episode pleased me more than anything since the season two finale, so permit me to geek out off the top of my head.
Hardcore fans know that the entertainment media, because they had nothing better to do at the time, made a big deal about the fact that Lost was acquiring a few new actors for season three. Among them were Kiele Sanchez, who Wikipedia tells me wanted to be a VJ and is married to the guy who wrote Stranger Than Fiction, and Rodrigo Santoro, the "Tom Cruise of Brazil," whose favorite actors are Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino (again, according to Wikipedia), which means he is driven by a delicate balance of loving his paychecks and a legitimate desire to chew scenery.
Paulo (Santoro) and Nikki (Sanchez) were introduced in the third episode of the season, "Further Instructions." They instantly annoyed fans for not being Bernard and Rose. But the fan hate was cemented two episodes later in "The Cost of Living", when The Guy From Oz decided he couldn't live in Hawaii anymore and was offed by the smoke monster. That was the episode where Nikki pointed out something anyone with, say, John Locke's infinite hypothetical fantasy coolness should have realized already, and Paulo flushed a toilet in a hatch. What was up with that?
Now we know. As with John Locke's apparent ineptitude pre-"The Man From Tallahassee", Nikki and Paulo now make complete sense. I don't know if everything was planned from the start or if Lost is merely the best example of retroactive continuity on television evar. Either way, I feel my defense of this show is now completely justified.
Though I've avoided "next week on" promos ever since NBC insisted on spoiling Boomtown--note to the networks: advertising what minute a shocking twist will occur ruins the shocking twist--I still went into this episode knowing someone would die. By this point, even casual fans of the show know that if someone is going to be written out of the show on a certain week, then that episode will focus on them. Since I knew that this episode would focus on Paulo and Nikki, I figured there was a 50/50 chance one of them would be offed by the end of the hour.
Nikki died in the teaser. After a short flashback that included Billy Dee Williams as himself in the Lost version of She Spies, Paulo was found dead shortly thereafter. What followed was one of the top ten episodes of the show, as Nikki and Paulo's history, both before the crash and after, unfolded in the course of 42 minutes.
I'm going to break our spoiler policy here and not write about what happened next. Whoever you are, whether you've watched the show or not, you have to see this, and it would be a shame to spoil it. It's an excellent entry point into Lost and the most insider-y episode of the series to date at the same time. It's a first season style mystery, a third season reinterpretation of the canon, and full of knowing winks for the most jaded viewer.
I haven't loved Lost this much since "Walkabout." Just watch it already.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Things Read/Things Viewed
I've come across a few things that seem worth talking about, but not enough to devote an entire post to. Which is another way of saying that good or bad, none of these things inspired much passion.
Also, please note that right below, Tomfoolery has joined Narraptor and myself as a contributor. In his inaugural post, he talks about one of those subjects that is close to our heart: Buddhism.
Read:
Nightwatch
This is actually a trilogy of short stories, so by the time you've reached page 100-ish, you'll have gone through all of the events of Nightwatch the movie. The plot is similar, except that it removes most of the best and worst parts of the film, leaving a tale that's better grounded, but without any noteworthy scenes. Oh, and each tale ends with the same twist: It Was All My Cunning Plan. Magical Russia is nice, but I can see why most people prefer to do their adventuring in Magical London. (This statement discounts Londoners themselves, who often react to Magical London with abject fear and a strong desire to return to their terrible job and lame friends.)
Un Lun Dun
This one actually would have been it's own post, except that Narraptor pretty much said it all for me.
A nice touch is the glossary in the back, which includes none of the Magical London terms used in the book. However, it does explain all the British slang for American kids.
Viewed:
Ghost Rider:
Do you want to see an old issue of Ghost Rider come to life? Because that will pretty much determine what you think of this film. For one thing, the dialogue ought to have been put in word balloons, especially whenever the movie's central themes are used. Also, most of the fight scenes follow a traditional old-school comic formula.
1- Villain enters and gets a few good hits on Ghost Rider. Oh, no, what can he do?
2- Ghost Rider figures out the villain's weakness and takes him down in a matter of moments.
(That weakness is unusually some variation of, "Wait! What if I use my demon-killing chain to kill this demon?" Don't expect any epic fights.)
If you care, they changed the Ghost Rider's origin story. I guess they felt that the audience wouldn't be invested in a guy who willingly summons Mephistopheles, The Secular Satan, and signs his contract of doom. "Yes. He fooled you... that's what he does. I thought you spent months studying about this guy."
Sublime
A video release recent enough to include a trailer for The Reaping, Sublime is advertised as a pure horror movie. This is as much of a lie as the image on the cover. It's about a guy who goes into a hospital for a routine surgery and everything goes weird on him. If you don't already know where this movie is going, you haven't seen enough of these films. But there's another element involved... there are long, lingering shots. Questionable shots that linger on their own artiness. Superficial discussions about what it means to be a superficial person. A sea of electronic music letting you know how you should feel. And then, it all comes together. Some poor fool combined a horror movie with Grand Canyon.
Also, please note that right below, Tomfoolery has joined Narraptor and myself as a contributor. In his inaugural post, he talks about one of those subjects that is close to our heart: Buddhism.
Read:
Nightwatch
This is actually a trilogy of short stories, so by the time you've reached page 100-ish, you'll have gone through all of the events of Nightwatch the movie. The plot is similar, except that it removes most of the best and worst parts of the film, leaving a tale that's better grounded, but without any noteworthy scenes. Oh, and each tale ends with the same twist: It Was All My Cunning Plan. Magical Russia is nice, but I can see why most people prefer to do their adventuring in Magical London. (This statement discounts Londoners themselves, who often react to Magical London with abject fear and a strong desire to return to their terrible job and lame friends.)
Un Lun Dun
This one actually would have been it's own post, except that Narraptor pretty much said it all for me.
A nice touch is the glossary in the back, which includes none of the Magical London terms used in the book. However, it does explain all the British slang for American kids.
Viewed:
Ghost Rider:
Do you want to see an old issue of Ghost Rider come to life? Because that will pretty much determine what you think of this film. For one thing, the dialogue ought to have been put in word balloons, especially whenever the movie's central themes are used. Also, most of the fight scenes follow a traditional old-school comic formula.
1- Villain enters and gets a few good hits on Ghost Rider. Oh, no, what can he do?
2- Ghost Rider figures out the villain's weakness and takes him down in a matter of moments.
(That weakness is unusually some variation of, "Wait! What if I use my demon-killing chain to kill this demon?" Don't expect any epic fights.)
If you care, they changed the Ghost Rider's origin story. I guess they felt that the audience wouldn't be invested in a guy who willingly summons Mephistopheles, The Secular Satan, and signs his contract of doom. "Yes. He fooled you... that's what he does. I thought you spent months studying about this guy."
Sublime
A video release recent enough to include a trailer for The Reaping, Sublime is advertised as a pure horror movie. This is as much of a lie as the image on the cover. It's about a guy who goes into a hospital for a routine surgery and everything goes weird on him. If you don't already know where this movie is going, you haven't seen enough of these films. But there's another element involved... there are long, lingering shots. Questionable shots that linger on their own artiness. Superficial discussions about what it means to be a superficial person. A sea of electronic music letting you know how you should feel. And then, it all comes together. Some poor fool combined a horror movie with Grand Canyon.
Monday, March 26, 2007
BSG Is Dukkha
Perhaps Narraptor is too harsh about the newly revealed Cylon models. I have not been watching BSG. In fact, I've been avoiding it. But on a whim I decided to give it another go. Everyone deserves a second chance right?
I kind of enjoyed the finale for the most part. Apollo had actual dialogue and managed to deliver it almost well--or at least not badly. I think it would have been cooler if Baltar had been killed by the unruly mob, a la Frankenstein's monster, but I could live with what we were given. And while the "Hey, guess what? We're all Cylons" bit was poorly done, I was prepared to overlook even that to an extent. I've learned to no longer expect great things from Battlestar.
Admittedly, I can pick out many things I wish had been done differently, but none of it really seemed to phase my newly acquired Zen-like ability to find contentment where in previous episodes I had found only pain--dukkha, if you will. As the episode began to wind down I actually breathed a sigh of relief. I marveled to myself at how it was not nearly as bad as I had feared, and that apparently I was just being silly.
Then Starbuck arrived on the scene and handed us some crap about finding Earth.
FUCK BSG!
Narraptor is right to be harsh, I only question his choice of where to loose his venom.
I kind of enjoyed the finale for the most part. Apollo had actual dialogue and managed to deliver it almost well--or at least not badly. I think it would have been cooler if Baltar had been killed by the unruly mob, a la Frankenstein's monster, but I could live with what we were given. And while the "Hey, guess what? We're all Cylons" bit was poorly done, I was prepared to overlook even that to an extent. I've learned to no longer expect great things from Battlestar.
Admittedly, I can pick out many things I wish had been done differently, but none of it really seemed to phase my newly acquired Zen-like ability to find contentment where in previous episodes I had found only pain--dukkha, if you will. As the episode began to wind down I actually breathed a sigh of relief. I marveled to myself at how it was not nearly as bad as I had feared, and that apparently I was just being silly.
Then Starbuck arrived on the scene and handed us some crap about finding Earth.
FUCK BSG!
Narraptor is right to be harsh, I only question his choice of where to loose his venom.
Frakk You
"Dude, I'm a Cylon. I keep hearing the Lite FM."
"Whoa, dude! Me, too, I guess. That's frakked up."
"Yeah, so...what do you wanna do now?"
"I dunno. Should we throw ourselves out an airlock or something? I mean, I don't really seem like the type to betray humanity."
"Let's just go back to work."
"Eh. Whatever."
"Whoa, dude! Me, too, I guess. That's frakked up."
"Yeah, so...what do you wanna do now?"
"I dunno. Should we throw ourselves out an airlock or something? I mean, I don't really seem like the type to betray humanity."
"Let's just go back to work."
"Eh. Whatever."
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Read: Un Lun Dun
China Mieville, author of Perdido Street Station and creator of the new weird world of Bas Lag, enters the Young Adult market with Un Lun Dun. The titular city is the fantasy flipside of London, a conceit that seems to be popular with British authors these days, and with readers around the world. The consensus seems to be that London isn't really all that interesting without magical modes of transportation involved, ideally in the form of trains or buses.
To its credit, Un Lun Dun is also inhabited by the Unbrellissimo, a character who travels by floating unbrellas, swinging from one handle to the next to get to where he wants to go. And though the book starts off in typical form, with the chosen one, Zanna, and her sidekick Deeba whisked away to Un Lun Dun, where they meet various cleverly named creatures and run away from the forces of evil, events take an unusual turn 100 pages in. The bad guys trick the Propheseers into believing everything is taken care of and arrange to send Zanna and Deeba back to London, leaving Zanna with no memory of the experience.
Deeba's curiosity and Google-fu allow her to discover the deciet. She takes it upon herself to return to Un Lun Dun, eventually becoming the Unchosen One, much to the resentment of the Book that contained all the prophesies. ("Maybe in a few years we'll open me up and read what was supposed to happen and we can all have a good laugh.")
Stripped of his usual vocabulary, the vitality of Un Lun Dun doesn't compare to Mieville's Bas Lag, but it's also less intimidating. Though the setting seems haphazardly defined, given the 400-page length of the novel, the story has more depth than the stereotypical Young Adult fantasy. Like many books marketed as YA, it's more of a children's novel than one specifically aimed at teens. The protagonist's age and race are undefined, she's rarely wrong, and the possibility of failure is never present. It even has illustrations that, at least in the US version, give away what's going to happen before the reader gets to that paragraph.
In a true YA series, say, Harry Potter, the main characters continually learn the harsh lesson that they don't know everything. They screw things up. In Un Lun Dun, the city existed for centuries before Deeba came along, but no one ever considered: "The Unbrellissimo controls all broken unbrellas. What happens if you repair one?"
But Un Lun Dun is an excellent children's book. The cliffhanger ending is a disappointment, but it offers hope that this might be the second coming of Oz. With any luck, a year from now you'll be reading Hong Gone.
To its credit, Un Lun Dun is also inhabited by the Unbrellissimo, a character who travels by floating unbrellas, swinging from one handle to the next to get to where he wants to go. And though the book starts off in typical form, with the chosen one, Zanna, and her sidekick Deeba whisked away to Un Lun Dun, where they meet various cleverly named creatures and run away from the forces of evil, events take an unusual turn 100 pages in. The bad guys trick the Propheseers into believing everything is taken care of and arrange to send Zanna and Deeba back to London, leaving Zanna with no memory of the experience.
Deeba's curiosity and Google-fu allow her to discover the deciet. She takes it upon herself to return to Un Lun Dun, eventually becoming the Unchosen One, much to the resentment of the Book that contained all the prophesies. ("Maybe in a few years we'll open me up and read what was supposed to happen and we can all have a good laugh.")
Stripped of his usual vocabulary, the vitality of Un Lun Dun doesn't compare to Mieville's Bas Lag, but it's also less intimidating. Though the setting seems haphazardly defined, given the 400-page length of the novel, the story has more depth than the stereotypical Young Adult fantasy. Like many books marketed as YA, it's more of a children's novel than one specifically aimed at teens. The protagonist's age and race are undefined, she's rarely wrong, and the possibility of failure is never present. It even has illustrations that, at least in the US version, give away what's going to happen before the reader gets to that paragraph.
In a true YA series, say, Harry Potter, the main characters continually learn the harsh lesson that they don't know everything. They screw things up. In Un Lun Dun, the city existed for centuries before Deeba came along, but no one ever considered: "The Unbrellissimo controls all broken unbrellas. What happens if you repair one?"
But Un Lun Dun is an excellent children's book. The cliffhanger ending is a disappointment, but it offers hope that this might be the second coming of Oz. With any luck, a year from now you'll be reading Hong Gone.
Friday, March 23, 2007
St. Patricks Day, With Segue.
My St. Patrick's day celebrations involved fun and frivolity, but nary a drop of alcohol. This means that along with being a bit lamer than I was before, snakes will now find my blood tasty and irresistible for the rest of the year.
In my defense, most of my time was spent in Chicago, and getting a green beer there requires a person to achieve three tests of strength, along with the test of waiting in line for a long, long time. Seeing as how the other people with me had already gone through that paticular hell last year, they weren't too keen on trying it again a second time.
Instead, we wandered around, until we ended up in the expensive resturant part of town. Each one was more expensive than the last, until going back to a Brazillian steak house seemed like a reasonable expense, all things considered. And then we saw a menu with affordable prices. We ran inside, not thinking of what the name Graze could mean.
To our horror, we discovered we had wandered into a concept restaurant. The waitress explained that each person should buy two or three tiny plates of food, and share them with the group. Suddenly, the reasonable prices we had combined into a new and more powerful form. But we had already sat ourselves down, so the hell with it. Besides, it wasn't like I was spending all that money on myself. No, I was sharing with my friends.
In Graze's defense, the tiny plates were loaded to the edge with food, and almost everything we ordered ranged from "really good" to "damn good." My only suggestion would be to stay away from the fried Calamari. I can't remember what it tasted like, but it was bland. Much like Fashion Bomb.
I've seen Fashion Bomb twice now, both times as the first (or second) band to enter the stage. The last time was at Fangoria's Weekend Of Horrors, a few weeks ago. The time before... I can't remember. But I can't remember a lot about them. What do they sound like? Well, every song is in the same key. I remember that much, because Trelbee would lean over to me at the beginning of every song, and whisper "In the lovely key of 'D'." I think the lyrics were different for each song. I'm almost positive of that.
Afterwards, Voltaire played, and I'll talk more about that at a later date. He deserves a post of his own, after all. Then, there was the exotic horror dancing.
I've seen two different troupes perform at two different horror conventions, and both have the same weakness: The stage is not very high off of the ground, and everyone will be standing up once the girls get on the stage. And since they do a lot of their synchronized gyrating on the ground... well, you're not going to be seeing a lot. But if you like not seeing things, perhaps this is the show for you.
Other Fangoria notes:
1- The director of Wrong Turn 2 is overjoyed about his good fortune. He speaks of a great underground movement to continue the Wrong Turn franchise, and his desire to expand and enhance it's mythos.
2- Jeffrey Combs is fairly adroit at walking the tightrope of being mostly honest with his fans, while not offending them by explaining how very sick he is of horror movies. This is opposed to when he talks about his work in Star Trek, where he played five (or so) different characters, and would leap at the chance to play five more. Also, he is willing to answer the question "Why don't you work with the top directors?" without resorting to profanity, which is more than I could do.
(That answer was: "They haven't called. Plus, I've worked with Peter Jackson, and he counts as a top director.")
3- Doug Bradley really enjoys playing as Pinhead, and gives out a really good Q&A session. Want to know about his role in The Killer Tongue? He'll tell you. Want to know about going to the bathroom in the Pinhead Costume? He'll tell you that too. Want to tell him about how he gave you nightmares as a child? He'll say "Yes!" and pump his fist in the air.
In my defense, most of my time was spent in Chicago, and getting a green beer there requires a person to achieve three tests of strength, along with the test of waiting in line for a long, long time. Seeing as how the other people with me had already gone through that paticular hell last year, they weren't too keen on trying it again a second time.
Instead, we wandered around, until we ended up in the expensive resturant part of town. Each one was more expensive than the last, until going back to a Brazillian steak house seemed like a reasonable expense, all things considered. And then we saw a menu with affordable prices. We ran inside, not thinking of what the name Graze could mean.
To our horror, we discovered we had wandered into a concept restaurant. The waitress explained that each person should buy two or three tiny plates of food, and share them with the group. Suddenly, the reasonable prices we had combined into a new and more powerful form. But we had already sat ourselves down, so the hell with it. Besides, it wasn't like I was spending all that money on myself. No, I was sharing with my friends.
In Graze's defense, the tiny plates were loaded to the edge with food, and almost everything we ordered ranged from "really good" to "damn good." My only suggestion would be to stay away from the fried Calamari. I can't remember what it tasted like, but it was bland. Much like Fashion Bomb.
I've seen Fashion Bomb twice now, both times as the first (or second) band to enter the stage. The last time was at Fangoria's Weekend Of Horrors, a few weeks ago. The time before... I can't remember. But I can't remember a lot about them. What do they sound like? Well, every song is in the same key. I remember that much, because Trelbee would lean over to me at the beginning of every song, and whisper "In the lovely key of 'D'." I think the lyrics were different for each song. I'm almost positive of that.
Afterwards, Voltaire played, and I'll talk more about that at a later date. He deserves a post of his own, after all. Then, there was the exotic horror dancing.
I've seen two different troupes perform at two different horror conventions, and both have the same weakness: The stage is not very high off of the ground, and everyone will be standing up once the girls get on the stage. And since they do a lot of their synchronized gyrating on the ground... well, you're not going to be seeing a lot. But if you like not seeing things, perhaps this is the show for you.
Other Fangoria notes:
1- The director of Wrong Turn 2 is overjoyed about his good fortune. He speaks of a great underground movement to continue the Wrong Turn franchise, and his desire to expand and enhance it's mythos.
2- Jeffrey Combs is fairly adroit at walking the tightrope of being mostly honest with his fans, while not offending them by explaining how very sick he is of horror movies. This is opposed to when he talks about his work in Star Trek, where he played five (or so) different characters, and would leap at the chance to play five more. Also, he is willing to answer the question "Why don't you work with the top directors?" without resorting to profanity, which is more than I could do.
(That answer was: "They haven't called. Plus, I've worked with Peter Jackson, and he counts as a top director.")
3- Doug Bradley really enjoys playing as Pinhead, and gives out a really good Q&A session. Want to know about his role in The Killer Tongue? He'll tell you. Want to know about going to the bathroom in the Pinhead Costume? He'll tell you that too. Want to tell him about how he gave you nightmares as a child? He'll say "Yes!" and pump his fist in the air.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Viewed: I Think I Love My Wife
I'm pretty sure I saw this movie. I just can't remember any lines from it. It was St. Patrick's day, after all, and I celebrated in the traditional Irish way, off-brand Dharma initiative wine, an expensive Japanese dinner, and high quality sake. I went to a restaurant where they pour the sake so it overflows onto a plate on purpose. This, I was told, is how it is traditionally done in Japan.Really, who am I supposed to trust? Me and my personal experiences in Japan, a magical land where kitsune and cosplay girls were always presenting me with tiny amounts of alcohol and the concept of fusing Jack Daniels and Coke confuses the general populace, or an overpriced LA restaurant with the sake equivalent of a Big Gulp?
I would not normally go to a theater to see a comedy I expected to be less than stellar (see the forthcoming review of Hot Fuzz), but my wife was in the mood to laugh, and again, sake was involved. Conveniently, there happened to be a showing of the new Chris Rock movie right after we finished our dinner.
Though my memory of the film is fuzzy, I think the reviewers were somewhat harsh. I Think I Love My Wife is a thoroughly modern megaplex comedy. Jokes are thrown against the screen in the hopes that a third of them will stick. There are safe "Married life means no sex" jokes everyone can feel laugh at. ("That's true! We're so lame!") There's an extended Viagra gag for you to enjoy or avert your ears during--your choice. And there are throwaway bitter asides that you might not laugh at if you're on a date.
My wife and I were the only people in the theater to audibly appreciate the latter. As this became more apparent, I laughed harder and louder on purpose, calling attention to the couples in the audience that, "HA! I'm in a relationship where I can laugh at that without consequences!" It was opening night of the Dungeons & Dragons movie all over again, except this time no one told me to be quiet, and I Think I Love My Wife, when it is funny, is funny on purpose.
It was an interesting social experiment, and I think critics would have liked it more if they had lowered their standards or drank a plate of sake beforehand.
It does have its problems, though. I was a bit confused as to why Chris Rock would be tempted by a woman whose only good quality was that she dated guys from The Wire. But given the murmurs of approval from the men in the audience whenever she did something desperately slutty, Kerry Washington has ineffable qualities that make one forget about Gina Torres. And then there was the ending. When given the chance to consummate his affair with the other woman, Chris Rock went as far as removing her panties before remembering that he had kids, at which point he went fleeing back to his wife. That scene destroyed all suspension of disbelief, but my wife insists that the woman sitting next to her was clapping at that point.
I thought everyone was booing with me.
Sometimes I just appreciate films on a different level than everyone else.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Friends Not Included
Other online games offered by the people who make Ticket To Ride include:
Gang Of Four Online: A purportedly Chinese game where players try to get rid of their cards by forming better poker-style hands than the last player. The highest ranking hand is called "A Gang Of Four," but the rules forget to state which of those cards represents ex-propaganda minister Yao Wenyuan. I'm betting it's the Green-10.
Availability: There always seems to be 3-10 games of this going on at any particular time.
The Queen's Jewels: You play a jeweler, trying to sell gems to random people on the street. The gameplay described reminds me of a mashup between Renfeild and Bleeding Sherwood. I don't know for sure, because I have yet to play The Queen's Jewels. I also have yet to play Renfield or Bleeding Sherwood, even though Cheapass Games gives both of those away for free.
Availability: 1-3 people sullenly hanging out in the waiting room.
Fist of DragonstOnes: According to Days Of Wonder: "You will like it if you liked... Dungeons & Dragons™, the Lord of the Rings™ or Harry Potter™"
Availability: Give it a try. You'll be the first!
One product of theirs that you can't try out online is Shadows Over Camelot. The basic gameplay revolves around heroic knights working together to accomplish quests by assembling specific cards. Meanwhile, every round something terrible happens to undermine said players. The fun part is that in the beginning of the game, each of the players secretly gets one of 8 cards. Seven of them tell the player that they are loyal knights of Camelot. One of them lets that player know that they are a traitor, who will only win if the other players lose.
If too many black swords are gained for the forces of evil, the knights are overrun and killed by the forces of evil. "Accidentally" failing a quest gets the team black swords. Failing to catch the traitor gains the team black swords. Accusing someone of being a traitor gains the team black swords. Reminding the team that there is a mathematical chance that there is no traitor playing does not gain the team black swords, but seems awfully suspicious. Other suspicious activities include not doing quests to draw more cards, completing the best quests to steal their rewards, and completing the boring quests so that they do the least possible damage to the forces of evil.
The rampant suspicion that flows through this game is one main reason that this will never be offered online: The required paranoia necessary to play Shadows Over Camelot simply cannot be achieved through instant messages. Also, the game prohibits table talk, and you're going to have a hard enough time stopping that when you're all in the same room, let alone a virtual space where people could cheat like crazy through AIM.
Like a lot of games for three or more players, you do not want to bother with only three players. Also, the game is about this is exactly the kind of game Cheapass Games is talking smack about in their company philosophy. Fifty bucks gets you a clever design idea, and a plethora of soft rubber pawns that stride atop a full color abstract gameboard. It's nice, but I'd rather pay twelve bucks for it and have a tiny scavenger hunt in my apartment instead.
"Okay guys, we still need four pawns representing invading Saxons, a pawn representing the holy grail, and something to track the inevitable corruption of a utopian dream."
Gang Of Four Online: A purportedly Chinese game where players try to get rid of their cards by forming better poker-style hands than the last player. The highest ranking hand is called "A Gang Of Four," but the rules forget to state which of those cards represents ex-propaganda minister Yao Wenyuan. I'm betting it's the Green-10.
Availability: There always seems to be 3-10 games of this going on at any particular time.
The Queen's Jewels: You play a jeweler, trying to sell gems to random people on the street. The gameplay described reminds me of a mashup between Renfeild and Bleeding Sherwood. I don't know for sure, because I have yet to play The Queen's Jewels. I also have yet to play Renfield or Bleeding Sherwood, even though Cheapass Games gives both of those away for free.
Availability: 1-3 people sullenly hanging out in the waiting room.
Fist of DragonstOnes: According to Days Of Wonder: "You will like it if you liked... Dungeons & Dragons™, the Lord of the Rings™ or Harry Potter™"
Availability: Give it a try. You'll be the first!
One product of theirs that you can't try out online is Shadows Over Camelot. The basic gameplay revolves around heroic knights working together to accomplish quests by assembling specific cards. Meanwhile, every round something terrible happens to undermine said players. The fun part is that in the beginning of the game, each of the players secretly gets one of 8 cards. Seven of them tell the player that they are loyal knights of Camelot. One of them lets that player know that they are a traitor, who will only win if the other players lose.
If too many black swords are gained for the forces of evil, the knights are overrun and killed by the forces of evil. "Accidentally" failing a quest gets the team black swords. Failing to catch the traitor gains the team black swords. Accusing someone of being a traitor gains the team black swords. Reminding the team that there is a mathematical chance that there is no traitor playing does not gain the team black swords, but seems awfully suspicious. Other suspicious activities include not doing quests to draw more cards, completing the best quests to steal their rewards, and completing the boring quests so that they do the least possible damage to the forces of evil.
The rampant suspicion that flows through this game is one main reason that this will never be offered online: The required paranoia necessary to play Shadows Over Camelot simply cannot be achieved through instant messages. Also, the game prohibits table talk, and you're going to have a hard enough time stopping that when you're all in the same room, let alone a virtual space where people could cheat like crazy through AIM.
Like a lot of games for three or more players, you do not want to bother with only three players. Also, the game is about this is exactly the kind of game Cheapass Games is talking smack about in their company philosophy. Fifty bucks gets you a clever design idea, and a plethora of soft rubber pawns that stride atop a full color abstract gameboard. It's nice, but I'd rather pay twelve bucks for it and have a tiny scavenger hunt in my apartment instead.
"Okay guys, we still need four pawns representing invading Saxons, a pawn representing the holy grail, and something to track the inevitable corruption of a utopian dream."
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Chicago To Los Angeles For 16 Points
For those of you wondering what happened to Mr. Bile and myself, allow me to direct you to Ticket to Ride. It's the on-line version of the board game of the same name, and it's free and easy to play.
You start by drawing destination tickets (say, Winnipeg to Duluth and Seattle to El Paso on the US map), and then try to draw the proper train cards to connect the two cities. You only have three options each turn after that: pick up more destination tickets, more trains, or lay tracks. Extra points are awarded to the player with the longest continuous route at the end of the game, and the more destination tickets you complete, the greater your score. But if you fail to connect your destination tickets, you lose the points they would give you.
It's free, it's fun, and you can generally find me there after 2 AM PST. Join us, won't you?
You start by drawing destination tickets (say, Winnipeg to Duluth and Seattle to El Paso on the US map), and then try to draw the proper train cards to connect the two cities. You only have three options each turn after that: pick up more destination tickets, more trains, or lay tracks. Extra points are awarded to the player with the longest continuous route at the end of the game, and the more destination tickets you complete, the greater your score. But if you fail to connect your destination tickets, you lose the points they would give you.
It's free, it's fun, and you can generally find me there after 2 AM PST. Join us, won't you?
Friday, March 16, 2007
31 Terrifying Flavors
I was wrong about going to a gothic ice cream social. Instead, I was going to Lovecraftian ice cream social, which skews more to the "geek and hipster" end of the scale. Stuffed C'thulhus were carried by multiple people, and no two were alike. Not that I talked to any of them. I've discovered that my mad social skillz pretty much evaporate when I've had an hour and a half of sleep in the past day.
The event was planned by a local bookstore in honor of the seventieth anniversary of Lovecraft's death. Apparently, Lovecraft gorged himself on ice cream whenever the opportunity presented itself. They had also assembled a pair of local authors to do readings. I'm willing to bet you haven't heard of either of them. However, other authors supposedly have, including Poppy Z. Brite, who will have "Author of a The Crow novelization," following her name until the end of time.
Santoro read from the ending of "The Colour Out Of Space," and almost made Lovecraft's dialogue work. I would say more, but I'm already in trouble for violating rule four.
Mundt read from Lord of a Visible World: An Autobiography In Letters. It turned out to be unexpectedly fascinating stuff, which is why as I left, the bookstore was having to tell multiple people that they didn't actually have any copies of that book, but they could always order some. I doubt that the bookstore was excited that their collection of freely purchasable books had been upstaged, but it's a lesson learned; When you tell an author to read anything he wants to, he might just do it.
But before I left, I discovered that the latest Richard Stark novel had come out. One day, I'll actually buy one of his stories. This will probably be the day they stop charging twenty bucks for a book I can finish in four hours.
The event was planned by a local bookstore in honor of the seventieth anniversary of Lovecraft's death. Apparently, Lovecraft gorged himself on ice cream whenever the opportunity presented itself. They had also assembled a pair of local authors to do readings. I'm willing to bet you haven't heard of either of them. However, other authors supposedly have, including Poppy Z. Brite, who will have "Author of a The Crow novelization," following her name until the end of time.
Santoro read from the ending of "The Colour Out Of Space," and almost made Lovecraft's dialogue work. I would say more, but I'm already in trouble for violating rule four.
Mundt read from Lord of a Visible World: An Autobiography In Letters. It turned out to be unexpectedly fascinating stuff, which is why as I left, the bookstore was having to tell multiple people that they didn't actually have any copies of that book, but they could always order some. I doubt that the bookstore was excited that their collection of freely purchasable books had been upstaged, but it's a lesson learned; When you tell an author to read anything he wants to, he might just do it.
But before I left, I discovered that the latest Richard Stark novel had come out. One day, I'll actually buy one of his stories. This will probably be the day they stop charging twenty bucks for a book I can finish in four hours.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Good News, Everyone!
I'm late for my oh-so-anticipated Lost insights, but something else has come up. It's just as well. Both last week's show and LOSTCast completely ignored what happened in the previous episode I dreamed, and the latest introduced what my wife rightly pointed out as the most implausible twist yet. Sayid's hot, he can repair delicate electronic equipment, interrogate people, tell when they're lying, track them through the woods, handle all types of weapons, AND he's a great cook?
Allow me to take a moment to gloat about how cool my wife is.
Anyway, news of more importance has come up. Two of our commenters... commentators... people who have left comments on Canned Food and Shotguns have recently started their own blogs. Jander and Jaxjaggywire have entered the Blogspot'o'sphere, giving both me and the evil Mr. Bile sites to retreat to when our inevitable acrimonious break-up occurs. In the meantime, when we can't be bothered to report on what games we're playin' or what movies we've seen, both of them seem to be happy to. You can find the links to their blogs under our new sidebar category, "Blogs That Aren't This Blog."
Allow me to take a moment to gloat about how cool my wife is.
Anyway, news of more importance has come up. Two of our commenters... commentators... people who have left comments on Canned Food and Shotguns have recently started their own blogs. Jander and Jaxjaggywire have entered the Blogspot'o'sphere, giving both me and the evil Mr. Bile sites to retreat to when our inevitable acrimonious break-up occurs. In the meantime, when we can't be bothered to report on what games we're playin' or what movies we've seen, both of them seem to be happy to. You can find the links to their blogs under our new sidebar category, "Blogs That Aren't This Blog."
Sunday, March 11, 2007
D&D Cartoon Edition: Eric As Archetype
Let's talk about Eric, the whiny cavalier who doesn't want to go along with the rest of the party.
According to Mark Evanier, Eric was included at the request of parents' groups. He was there to teach the moral lesson of groupthink. The majority was always right. The minority was always wrong. A dishonest message, but somewhat appropriate when applied to D&D and role-playing games in general. Tabletop role-playing is a group experience, and consensus among the party is necessary to keep the session from getting bogged and the party together.
But there are two ways to interpret Eric. One, he's the player with the incredibly powerful magic item who resents being in the game if he can't control it entirely. But as Mr. Bile pointed out, Eric never gets his own way on the cartoon, thanks to the network mandate. Because of that, Eric reminds me more of a player who has good ideas but can't get the group to go along with them.
For example, on the cartoon the kids' goal is to get home. Early on, they open a magic portal back to Earth, but turn back to rescue the unicorn or something. Eric is the only one who hesitates. The goal of the story is for them to get back home to their families and corndogs. To not go through the portal is to lose. But the rest of the group wants to go save My Little Pony, so he sighs, pulls out his magic shield, and goes back to help.
Given how true this example is to role-playing games, I can't help but feel the subversive message was intentionally written in. The majority is usually wrong, but if you don't do what they say, you can't participate in whatever they're doing. Of course, what they're doing is probably stupid, so you should think carefully about whether you want to participate or not.
Eric isn't the bastard that kills the game, he's the player who wants to do something different. Maybe he wants to go out to the movies. Maybe he wanted to play Call of C'thulhu instead. Maybe he likes playing Dungeons & Dragons, but would prefer to play it smarter, dumber, or faster.
If you've ever played an RPG, you've been Eric. Either that or Bobby, the passive player who's too inexperienced to do anything but charge at a monsters with a club, unaware of the futility of your actions or the fact the DM will condescendingly never make you pay for them. After all, you're a noob.
Unless, of course, you're in one of my games, because I pwn n00bs.
According to Mark Evanier, Eric was included at the request of parents' groups. He was there to teach the moral lesson of groupthink. The majority was always right. The minority was always wrong. A dishonest message, but somewhat appropriate when applied to D&D and role-playing games in general. Tabletop role-playing is a group experience, and consensus among the party is necessary to keep the session from getting bogged and the party together.
But there are two ways to interpret Eric. One, he's the player with the incredibly powerful magic item who resents being in the game if he can't control it entirely. But as Mr. Bile pointed out, Eric never gets his own way on the cartoon, thanks to the network mandate. Because of that, Eric reminds me more of a player who has good ideas but can't get the group to go along with them.
For example, on the cartoon the kids' goal is to get home. Early on, they open a magic portal back to Earth, but turn back to rescue the unicorn or something. Eric is the only one who hesitates. The goal of the story is for them to get back home to their families and corndogs. To not go through the portal is to lose. But the rest of the group wants to go save My Little Pony, so he sighs, pulls out his magic shield, and goes back to help.
Given how true this example is to role-playing games, I can't help but feel the subversive message was intentionally written in. The majority is usually wrong, but if you don't do what they say, you can't participate in whatever they're doing. Of course, what they're doing is probably stupid, so you should think carefully about whether you want to participate or not.
Eric isn't the bastard that kills the game, he's the player who wants to do something different. Maybe he wants to go out to the movies. Maybe he wanted to play Call of C'thulhu instead. Maybe he likes playing Dungeons & Dragons, but would prefer to play it smarter, dumber, or faster.
If you've ever played an RPG, you've been Eric. Either that or Bobby, the passive player who's too inexperienced to do anything but charge at a monsters with a club, unaware of the futility of your actions or the fact the DM will condescendingly never make you pay for them. After all, you're a noob.
Unless, of course, you're in one of my games, because I pwn n00bs.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Harlan Was Right
The first convention that I ever went to was DragonCon. It's theme was ostentatiously dragons and fantasy and such, but as it turned out that was all window dressing for its real job of showcasing kickass music. In between sets, I attended a number of question and answer sessions that featured Harlan Ellison. (For those not in the know, Harlan Ellison is America's preeminent teller of Harlan Ellison stories. He also writes Harlan Ellison nonfiction, and the occasional short story.) Along with discussing with discussing his war against the internet, and his desire to see a good majority of the room die in agony, he asked a very good question. Why the hell were the people running the convention fine with allowing bootleggers to run wild through their vendor rooms?
I went to a Horror convention a few weeks ago, primarily because I wanted to see Voltaire again. During this time, I was disturbed to realize how very much the sight of badly photocopied DVD covers is beginning to annoy me. I know the arguments in favor of bootleggers. They are still the only places you can get the first episode of Twin Peaks, or Torchwood, or that cartoon where the entire cast of Looney Tunes dressed up in blackface and made fun of the Japanese. But the list of what only bootleggers can provide shrinks yearly. Not that this stops them. That semi-obscure Korean movie they offer for twenty dollars is freely available in America for... twenty dollars. The European release of Terror Death Lake with new footage? That new footage is also included in the deluxe release. That set of obscure British comedies you want? Oh, they don't have that shit. Would you like a fuzzier copy of Transformers The Movie than what you could find at Target?
I can understand wanting things you can't get. I can understand wanting not to pay for things, or to pay eighty bucks less than retail. Paying about the same price for an item of equal or lesser value... well, it makes me want to shake people, and tell them to support their own damn genre.
Admittedly this time there were only two bootleggers in the building. However, this was a smallish convention, and they had the very best spots to hawk their wares, just outside of the main convention hall. Meanwhile, some of the producers of original content were in the alternate vendor room. That would be the one that could only be found after walking down two separate hallways, down a flight of stairs, and into a room that was amazingly free of foot traffic. I might not ever watch a Troma film again, but I can still feel sorry for the bastards.
I planned this to naturally segue into how I met Voltaire again, and almost learned how to please a woman. Unfortunately, I am running late for a gothic ice cream social, so I'll have to leave you with vague promises to discuss the lighter side of horror conventions at a later date.
I went to a Horror convention a few weeks ago, primarily because I wanted to see Voltaire again. During this time, I was disturbed to realize how very much the sight of badly photocopied DVD covers is beginning to annoy me. I know the arguments in favor of bootleggers. They are still the only places you can get the first episode of Twin Peaks, or Torchwood, or that cartoon where the entire cast of Looney Tunes dressed up in blackface and made fun of the Japanese. But the list of what only bootleggers can provide shrinks yearly. Not that this stops them. That semi-obscure Korean movie they offer for twenty dollars is freely available in America for... twenty dollars. The European release of Terror Death Lake with new footage? That new footage is also included in the deluxe release. That set of obscure British comedies you want? Oh, they don't have that shit. Would you like a fuzzier copy of Transformers The Movie than what you could find at Target?
I can understand wanting things you can't get. I can understand wanting not to pay for things, or to pay eighty bucks less than retail. Paying about the same price for an item of equal or lesser value... well, it makes me want to shake people, and tell them to support their own damn genre.
Admittedly this time there were only two bootleggers in the building. However, this was a smallish convention, and they had the very best spots to hawk their wares, just outside of the main convention hall. Meanwhile, some of the producers of original content were in the alternate vendor room. That would be the one that could only be found after walking down two separate hallways, down a flight of stairs, and into a room that was amazingly free of foot traffic. I might not ever watch a Troma film again, but I can still feel sorry for the bastards.
I planned this to naturally segue into how I met Voltaire again, and almost learned how to please a woman. Unfortunately, I am running late for a gothic ice cream social, so I'll have to leave you with vague promises to discuss the lighter side of horror conventions at a later date.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Jake's Wake Is Coming
Three things I want to note before delving into my rant: One, the previous Lost post can be read by anyone who already knows that Mr. Eko is dead or doesn't know who he is, in case the "it was all a dream" tag wasn't enough of a tip-off. Two, My Pal Skipp's short will be linked here as soon as it is available on the Internet. And three, though our spoiler policy is clear, our "you'll never watch this show again if you know this" policy is not. So I'll warn you that if you intend to keep watching Battlestar Galactica because you crave disappointment, please, don't read any further.
Here is an extra line in case you read fast. I hope you're reading this on purpose, because you've probably already seen the word below in quotes.
I watched Battlestar Galactica Sunday night. The one where Starbuck "died."
I'm done.
I'll keep watching until the pajama trial of Baltar, and maybe check out the made for Sci-Fi channel summer movie and the first two episodes next season just for a laugh. But I'm done.
I tried to embrace Mr. Bile's "one episode at a time theory for Battlestar enjoyment." But when it comes down to it, BSG is not Lost and I can't watch it as if it were.
Think what you will about Lost's refusal to answer lingering mysteries or advance the island plot, but it's held true to the series' premise. Each episode is tied into a single character's past. Whether that actually advances the timeline or explains why that character is doing the same thing over and over again, the conceit has been remarkably consistent. And since the themes of the show are predestiny, people's inability to change, and fate vs. free will, it works.
Battlestar is a different type of show. It began as a wanna-be pilot/mini-series and developed into a tight 13-episode first season with an ensemble cast. But over the course of the bloated second and third seasons, the majority of episodes seemed as if they were written for network sweeps. With the exception of two-part finales or plot arc epilogues, episodes increasingly focused on only one or two characters. Flashbacks became commonplace, rewriting what we knew, and the metaplot, when acknowledged, was presented as a clip show.
BSG forgot it was an ensemble show. All the interesting characters have either been written out, ignored, or turned to cardboard. Not only am I supposed to believe that Starbuck flew into a colored space hole to "die" just because, but Adama reacts like a spoiled teenager afterwards and breaks his favorite toy?
Get back to me 10 years from now when Chris Carter comes out of retirement to make the re-re-imagining of Battlestar Galactica, and I can get my hopes up and have them dashed all over again courtesy of Lance Henriksen.
Here is an extra line in case you read fast. I hope you're reading this on purpose, because you've probably already seen the word below in quotes.
I watched Battlestar Galactica Sunday night. The one where Starbuck "died."
I'm done.
I'll keep watching until the pajama trial of Baltar, and maybe check out the made for Sci-Fi channel summer movie and the first two episodes next season just for a laugh. But I'm done.
I tried to embrace Mr. Bile's "one episode at a time theory for Battlestar enjoyment." But when it comes down to it, BSG is not Lost and I can't watch it as if it were.
Think what you will about Lost's refusal to answer lingering mysteries or advance the island plot, but it's held true to the series' premise. Each episode is tied into a single character's past. Whether that actually advances the timeline or explains why that character is doing the same thing over and over again, the conceit has been remarkably consistent. And since the themes of the show are predestiny, people's inability to change, and fate vs. free will, it works.
Battlestar is a different type of show. It began as a wanna-be pilot/mini-series and developed into a tight 13-episode first season with an ensemble cast. But over the course of the bloated second and third seasons, the majority of episodes seemed as if they were written for network sweeps. With the exception of two-part finales or plot arc epilogues, episodes increasingly focused on only one or two characters. Flashbacks became commonplace, rewriting what we knew, and the metaplot, when acknowledged, was presented as a clip show.
BSG forgot it was an ensemble show. All the interesting characters have either been written out, ignored, or turned to cardboard. Not only am I supposed to believe that Starbuck flew into a colored space hole to "die" just because, but Adama reacts like a spoiled teenager afterwards and breaks his favorite toy?
Get back to me 10 years from now when Chris Carter comes out of retirement to make the re-re-imagining of Battlestar Galactica, and I can get my hopes up and have them dashed all over again courtesy of Lance Henriksen.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Lost: The Answers To Life, The Universe, And The Others
To recap:
Cindy, Jack, and a mixed band of crash survivors and Others take the monorail to the Others' mountaintop planetarium. Clouds fly past over the green countryside. One of the clouds darkens, thins out, and shoots forward faster than the rail car. As the smoke monster careens across the sky, the black smoke peels away, revealing the monster to be a large, clanking railroad train.
At the top of the observatory, Ben is being held hostage by a splinter group of Others. They want access to the files on all the crash survivors. The Others have been studying the survivors to determine which 6 are the physical incarnations of 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42. There are 108 archetypes, and the splinter group has different interpretations of what character represents what number. One of them announces that Jack is 52. (This is significant, because he was not on Jacob's original list of the 108.)
A gunfight ensues. Confused and angry, Jack reacts to this revelation by ditching everyone and walking back to the beach. Along the way, a mist clears on the horizon and reveals the island to be just off the coast of a quaint Irish village filled with roads, houses, and hills where school children play.
Charlie, Hurley, and Sawyer cross the channel and enter the town. Charlie heads to the pub. Along the way, he accidentally stumbles into the town library. The locals become hostile and chase after the three castaways with tranquilizer darts. Sawyer and Charlie seek refuge in the castle ruins, but are eventually shot and shipped back to the beach with fuzzy memories of the village.
Hurley ducks into the library just in time. He locks the door with the glowing orange key as hypodermic needles whiz past him. He hides in the back behind a bookcase. The librarian opens the door and tells the townsfolk to be on their way. From their perspective outside the door, the library is devoid of visitors.
Hurley's friend Johnny sits at a table in the children's section of the library with the librarian. Johnny is convinced that Hurley has joined them to play Dungeons & Dragons. He points out the librarian's miniatures display case, where 108 fantasy miniatures are placed behind glass doors. The librarian explains that several of the miniatures have changed over the last few months, and one disappeared inexplicably.
The librarian invites Hurley to browse any of the books on his shelves. Hurley picks a few titles from the pearl softcover Mage: The Ascension print run, which has supplements and illustrations that mirror the numbers archetypes in the Others' files. Johnny expresses his gratitude at being reunited with Hurley, who he says is a kick-ass Dungeon Master.
Reactions and analysis:
After 2 1/2 years, we finally got some insight into what the numbers represent in the series proper. Those of you who participated in The Lost Experience or looked into Bad Twin (or who have been paying attention to this blog and my links to LOSTCasts), already know about the Valenzetti Equation. The numbers we know are the "core values." We now learn the Others are looking for the characters on the island who embody those values, presumably to reprogram them, thus changing the equation and preventing the apocalypse.
We also finally discovered the location of the island, though it's still possible the island is slipping in and out of time, or perhaps floating freely around the ocean. This seems unlikely, however, as the villagers all carry blowguns packed with Dharma darts. They must be in on the island's--er, islands' secrets. Then again, the library seems to be a gateway to its own pocket universe, and having a pocket universe inside a pocket universe would be pushing it.
Of course, there are always nitpicks. How did Jack get back to the beach unscathed? Why didn't he mention the third island to anyone, not even Sawyer and Charlie after they were dumped back on the main island with their minds wiped? Where were Rose and Bernard during all of this? What happened to Sun's bikini?
I suspect all of these scenes were cut for lack of time. Look for them on the season 3 DVD.
Hidden clues and Easter Eggs:
I'm sure it's no coincidence that one week after I suggested it would be nice to see Tamlyn Tomita in a flashback, Sung Hi Lee showed up in Hurley's past. As LOSTCasts pointed out, it's interesting that Hurley's father is named David, considering his imaginary friend is named Dave. Something they didn't pick up on though, was Hurley's real-time reference in the library to Johnny being dead. (Something to look forward to in a future flashback?) Also, the melted miniature and the librarian's reference a figure gone missing was clearly an inside joke about the abrupt departure of Mr. Eko.
Verdict:
This was the episode everyone was waiting for, though it's a shame we won't be seeing Hurley again until May sweeps.
Cindy, Jack, and a mixed band of crash survivors and Others take the monorail to the Others' mountaintop planetarium. Clouds fly past over the green countryside. One of the clouds darkens, thins out, and shoots forward faster than the rail car. As the smoke monster careens across the sky, the black smoke peels away, revealing the monster to be a large, clanking railroad train.
At the top of the observatory, Ben is being held hostage by a splinter group of Others. They want access to the files on all the crash survivors. The Others have been studying the survivors to determine which 6 are the physical incarnations of 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42. There are 108 archetypes, and the splinter group has different interpretations of what character represents what number. One of them announces that Jack is 52. (This is significant, because he was not on Jacob's original list of the 108.)
A gunfight ensues. Confused and angry, Jack reacts to this revelation by ditching everyone and walking back to the beach. Along the way, a mist clears on the horizon and reveals the island to be just off the coast of a quaint Irish village filled with roads, houses, and hills where school children play.
Charlie, Hurley, and Sawyer cross the channel and enter the town. Charlie heads to the pub. Along the way, he accidentally stumbles into the town library. The locals become hostile and chase after the three castaways with tranquilizer darts. Sawyer and Charlie seek refuge in the castle ruins, but are eventually shot and shipped back to the beach with fuzzy memories of the village.
Hurley ducks into the library just in time. He locks the door with the glowing orange key as hypodermic needles whiz past him. He hides in the back behind a bookcase. The librarian opens the door and tells the townsfolk to be on their way. From their perspective outside the door, the library is devoid of visitors.
Hurley's friend Johnny sits at a table in the children's section of the library with the librarian. Johnny is convinced that Hurley has joined them to play Dungeons & Dragons. He points out the librarian's miniatures display case, where 108 fantasy miniatures are placed behind glass doors. The librarian explains that several of the miniatures have changed over the last few months, and one disappeared inexplicably.
The librarian invites Hurley to browse any of the books on his shelves. Hurley picks a few titles from the pearl softcover Mage: The Ascension print run, which has supplements and illustrations that mirror the numbers archetypes in the Others' files. Johnny expresses his gratitude at being reunited with Hurley, who he says is a kick-ass Dungeon Master.
Reactions and analysis:
After 2 1/2 years, we finally got some insight into what the numbers represent in the series proper. Those of you who participated in The Lost Experience or looked into Bad Twin (or who have been paying attention to this blog and my links to LOSTCasts), already know about the Valenzetti Equation. The numbers we know are the "core values." We now learn the Others are looking for the characters on the island who embody those values, presumably to reprogram them, thus changing the equation and preventing the apocalypse.
We also finally discovered the location of the island, though it's still possible the island is slipping in and out of time, or perhaps floating freely around the ocean. This seems unlikely, however, as the villagers all carry blowguns packed with Dharma darts. They must be in on the island's--er, islands' secrets. Then again, the library seems to be a gateway to its own pocket universe, and having a pocket universe inside a pocket universe would be pushing it.
Of course, there are always nitpicks. How did Jack get back to the beach unscathed? Why didn't he mention the third island to anyone, not even Sawyer and Charlie after they were dumped back on the main island with their minds wiped? Where were Rose and Bernard during all of this? What happened to Sun's bikini?
I suspect all of these scenes were cut for lack of time. Look for them on the season 3 DVD.
Hidden clues and Easter Eggs:
I'm sure it's no coincidence that one week after I suggested it would be nice to see Tamlyn Tomita in a flashback, Sung Hi Lee showed up in Hurley's past. As LOSTCasts pointed out, it's interesting that Hurley's father is named David, considering his imaginary friend is named Dave. Something they didn't pick up on though, was Hurley's real-time reference in the library to Johnny being dead. (Something to look forward to in a future flashback?) Also, the melted miniature and the librarian's reference a figure gone missing was clearly an inside joke about the abrupt departure of Mr. Eko.
Verdict:
This was the episode everyone was waiting for, though it's a shame we won't be seeing Hurley again until May sweeps.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Bastard Killed Your Game
Narraptor's theory of Cartoon Dungeons and Dragons seems eerily accurate, once you get past the whole "But my characters never got a magic hat!" arguments. Another point of correspondence to Dungeons and Dragons proper is that the show never had an ending, even though one was planned.
Only about half of the games I've ever run or played in have had a true ending. Sometimes, I've been lucky enough to experience the grand reveal, where everybody reveals their secrets. Other times, I'm left with no clear idea why the Aztec werewolves were attacking our building. (Or its sister question: Why Aztec werewolves?)
Every role-player I've known has a path strewn with dead stories. Their tales of adventure end suddenly with, "And then, we never ran another game. I wonder what would have happened to the Drunken Ratman Yakuza..." The causes always seem to fall in the same three categories:
1- Inconvenience: Too many people move too far away to achieve critical mass. Or else scheduling conflicts prevent the gamers from ever meeting each other again, barring a solar eclipse.
2- Natural Causes: The players begin to seek other things to do, and the game withers and dies in their absence. Invasive species of gaming also fall in this category, like when Magic The Gathering temporarily replaced all forms of role-playing in late 1994.
3- The Bastard killed the game.
Far as I can tell, there's no standardized name for the Bastard, even though he's as endemic as a "Rules Lawyer" or "Min-Maxer." Many groups don't even acknowledge they have a problem with their Bastard, until a decade passes and they can no longer understand why they put up with him in the first place.
Every role-playing game at least pays lip service to the idea that the main objective of gaming is to have fun with your friends. And yet just about every beginning group of role-players starts off with a Bastard, or shortly picks one up. The lucky ones get rid of him in five years or so. The unfortunate ones get new Bastards to replace any they lose. And during this time, the Bastard will do his best to monopolize the game. He will be a main character, but more importantly, the game will only revolve around what he considers fun. And unfortunately, his fun does not include anyone else into the equation. People in the group are annoyed by the Bastard, but they're never annoyed enough to directly confront him. Instead, they make jokes when he's away, and try to finesse him when he's present.
A great deal of rationalization goes along with this. The Bastard might be a pain, but he's not as bad as that other guy the group no longer hangs out with. You know, the guy who reveal his pet theories on race relations in the middle of an Underdark campaign. At least now you know why he always played a human. Also, the Bastard is indispensable to the group. He's the one who picks up Tony, he's willing to host the game when Bill's not around, and Sarah will drop out of the group if the Bastard goes, and she's cool. And even if he went, his character has half of the Artifacts of power and is the only one who knows the true name of God, so the plot would be fucked without him.
I don't know if the cartoon show accurately represents that aspect, however. The cowardly character of Eric exhibits some of the symptoms. He constantly berates his teammates, never wants to do what everyone else is doing , and he has a shield of complete invincibility. But on the other side of the ledger, he seldom gets his own way. A true role-playing Bastard has the ability to warp any campaign just by being in it. Along with annoying other players, the Bastard wants to have fun, and his definition doesn't jibe with everyone else's. He'll constantly exert pressure on all the other players, and especially on the Dungeon Master, to change the course of the game into a path he feels more comfortable with. (And one that makes him a primary character, usually.) The more the group secretly plots to stop the Bastard from getting his own way, the more pressure he exerts. Which means that Eric could be the Bastard... but since it's all from an in-character point of view, it could easily be Hank instead.
If only there was a scene of the Barbarian kid snapping, and finally saying "Fuck you, Eric! I'm quitting the game forever!" we'd have definitive proof. We'd also have another five episodes of the cartoon lurching along, with everyone trying to pretend that nothing had gone seriously wrong, and Eric making jokes about how they didn't need a kid running around in a loincloth anyway.
The next week, it would be mysteriously replaced by Soul Train. And as always, I'd be fooled for a few seconds into thinking that some really cool new cartoon about space trains was about to start.
Only about half of the games I've ever run or played in have had a true ending. Sometimes, I've been lucky enough to experience the grand reveal, where everybody reveals their secrets. Other times, I'm left with no clear idea why the Aztec werewolves were attacking our building. (Or its sister question: Why Aztec werewolves?)
Every role-player I've known has a path strewn with dead stories. Their tales of adventure end suddenly with, "And then, we never ran another game. I wonder what would have happened to the Drunken Ratman Yakuza..." The causes always seem to fall in the same three categories:
1- Inconvenience: Too many people move too far away to achieve critical mass. Or else scheduling conflicts prevent the gamers from ever meeting each other again, barring a solar eclipse.
2- Natural Causes: The players begin to seek other things to do, and the game withers and dies in their absence. Invasive species of gaming also fall in this category, like when Magic The Gathering temporarily replaced all forms of role-playing in late 1994.
3- The Bastard killed the game.
Far as I can tell, there's no standardized name for the Bastard, even though he's as endemic as a "Rules Lawyer" or "Min-Maxer." Many groups don't even acknowledge they have a problem with their Bastard, until a decade passes and they can no longer understand why they put up with him in the first place.
Every role-playing game at least pays lip service to the idea that the main objective of gaming is to have fun with your friends. And yet just about every beginning group of role-players starts off with a Bastard, or shortly picks one up. The lucky ones get rid of him in five years or so. The unfortunate ones get new Bastards to replace any they lose. And during this time, the Bastard will do his best to monopolize the game. He will be a main character, but more importantly, the game will only revolve around what he considers fun. And unfortunately, his fun does not include anyone else into the equation. People in the group are annoyed by the Bastard, but they're never annoyed enough to directly confront him. Instead, they make jokes when he's away, and try to finesse him when he's present.
A great deal of rationalization goes along with this. The Bastard might be a pain, but he's not as bad as that other guy the group no longer hangs out with. You know, the guy who reveal his pet theories on race relations in the middle of an Underdark campaign. At least now you know why he always played a human. Also, the Bastard is indispensable to the group. He's the one who picks up Tony, he's willing to host the game when Bill's not around, and Sarah will drop out of the group if the Bastard goes, and she's cool. And even if he went, his character has half of the Artifacts of power and is the only one who knows the true name of God, so the plot would be fucked without him.
I don't know if the cartoon show accurately represents that aspect, however. The cowardly character of Eric exhibits some of the symptoms. He constantly berates his teammates, never wants to do what everyone else is doing , and he has a shield of complete invincibility. But on the other side of the ledger, he seldom gets his own way. A true role-playing Bastard has the ability to warp any campaign just by being in it. Along with annoying other players, the Bastard wants to have fun, and his definition doesn't jibe with everyone else's. He'll constantly exert pressure on all the other players, and especially on the Dungeon Master, to change the course of the game into a path he feels more comfortable with. (And one that makes him a primary character, usually.) The more the group secretly plots to stop the Bastard from getting his own way, the more pressure he exerts. Which means that Eric could be the Bastard... but since it's all from an in-character point of view, it could easily be Hank instead.
If only there was a scene of the Barbarian kid snapping, and finally saying "Fuck you, Eric! I'm quitting the game forever!" we'd have definitive proof. We'd also have another five episodes of the cartoon lurching along, with everyone trying to pretend that nothing had gone seriously wrong, and Eric making jokes about how they didn't need a kid running around in a loincloth anyway.
The next week, it would be mysteriously replaced by Soul Train. And as always, I'd be fooled for a few seconds into thinking that some really cool new cartoon about space trains was about to start.
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