Don't Read This! Random Late Night Ramblings On Harry Potter

Give me a break:

• Voldemort's newfound efficiency makes no sense. The narrative continues to prove that Deatheaters in a mob are even less competent than before they had ever appeared. The idea that You Know Who could suddenly take over the government and the media in a society powered by magic is preposterous. There is no precedent in the previous books for the good guys to be this incompetent, or for the bad guys to actually succeed at anything.

• Harry Potter is a coming of age series that refuses to come of age. After skipping over a description of Harry's first kiss in the Order of the Phoenix, now we've got Ron and Hermione tentatively patting each other on the arm or holding hands when they should be sneaking off and, at the very least, snogging. Excluding all the horrible possibilities that teenage boys with magic wands conjures to the mind, this book still reads as if written by a mom who refuses to acknowledge that young men have biological, reproductive imperatives that would if nothing else encourage them to spend less time sharing a bedroom. For a series that is always questioning the morals of adults, it's annoying that characters who have suffered torture, death, and societal ridicule still act like awkward 13-year-olds when it comes to relationships. I get that they're all essentially home-schooled, but both Harry and Hermione grew up with cable TV. People are dying, the tide has turned, why is everyone still such a prat?
  

• I'm only six discs in, which means there's still ten chapters before the plot starts, but it's maddening how previously well-realized students now appear as stereotypical cut-outs. Sure, it's meant to be that Ron and Hermione get together, but wasn't Crumb the first guy to realize that smart was hot? Shouldn't we feel bad about that? As for Ginny, the argument that she's the Mary Sue of Harry Potter is looking less and less like fangirl outrage. Once a shy girl of no consequence who liked an older boy, then the hard-ass non-Asian true love of the Chosen One, now she's gone all sacrificial Mary Jane on him. It's "Now Cho Chang's a bitch" all over again. Um, consistency, please?
  

This wouldn't be the first time that I've hated a Harry Potter book off the bat. I never expected to like the series in the first place. But I'm starting to get worried. There's going to be some unexpected payoff in the end, right?

Viewed: The Simpsons Movie

I went looking for coverage of this flick out on the Internet, but couldn't find a word. In the absence of a vast sea of fanboy and professional commentary, I feel it's extremely relevant to the movie-going public that I document my experience.

Is it any good? Put it this way, I went in excited, but too cool to be there, and flanked by children on all sides. I was subjected to the first salvo in the Alvin and The Chipmunks live-action movie blitz, and the audience around me would not shut up even after the 20th Century Fox logo appeared. People were calling their friends on cellphones to explain that the movie was starting right now, and they even had the audacity to applaud when the title finally showed up. I mean, what they hell were they on? The show hadn't been funny since [blank], and here they were, carrying on like it was the Phantom Menace. Hadn't they seen the show in [blank] years? Didn't they know all hope was about to be destroyed? Or was I surrounded by crazy people who actually liked seasons [blank] through [blank]?

Then the opening montage started and I forgot about all that for the next 87 minutes.

The Simpsons Movie is pretty fucking funny. I would even go so far to say that it is funny floating, the highest level of funny there is.

My Inner Comic Book Guy tells me that it's too bad so much of the film takes place outside of Springfield, leaving little interaction between the Simpson family and the supporting cast. And Albert Brooks' EPA czar is so similar to Scorpio, both in terms of his manner and his approach to protecting the environment, that it's a sad missed opportunity that he's not actually Scorpio. (He could have at least pulled off a mask or something. D'oh!)

But screw you, Inner Comic Book Guy. As I recall, in the regrettable season [blank], you had sex with Skinner's mom. Your opinion means nothing to me.

Beatallica

Metallica as if it were a Beatles cover band? I almost have to assume everyone has heard of this already, and I've been told about it several times but it was late and I was durnk. But as far as I can recall, I just found out about it today. I clicked on the review expecting some sort of Beatmania import soundtrack. I got "Hey, Dude" instead.

Like pirates, zombies, and ninjas, ironically earnest expressions of metal pride are wearing a bit thin. I blame VH1, hipsters, and that "emo" all the old people and nerdcore rappers complain about. But despite the self-referential groaners ("Remember/metal is in your heart/and you can start/to be a shredder"), Beatallica kind of works. It sounds just like what it claims to be.

Your tolerance may vary depending on your allegiances and familiarity with both bands' catalogs. As a post-S&M Metallica turncoat, and someone who never understood the appeal of those British kids with the goofy haircuts and prefers John and Yoko, I realize my opinion is suspect. But you have to admit, this so wrong, it's awesome.

Worst Episode Evar Challenge

In honor of The Simpsons Movie trepidation of The Simpsons Movie lieu of spoiling something that isn't related to Harry Potter out of spite ("The smoke monster is a New York City cab with a penis, and it's been a dead Replicant the whole time...on Earth!"), I hereby issue a challenge. If forced to choose between your significant other and a long-lost pet, while being held at sandbelt point by a serial killer with the moral compass of a 13-year-old boy and simultaneously taunted by an insane phone booth with a sniper rifle, what would you say is the worst episode of The Simpsons ever?

I'm not asking when the show got raped by a panda. That is already irrefutably documented. I'm curious what episodes people avoid for fear of flashbacks.

I'll start.

In retrospect, I knew the show was beginning to lose its luster after season 8. This was back before everyone was on the Internet judging shows season by season or episode by episode. The Simpsons still had its moments, but the "Who would want to watch a Jay and Silent Bob movie?" shtick was obviously becoming more of a crutch. That painful reference didn't exist at the time, so I kept watching. Blah, blah, blah...fanboy cred established. Here's my verdict.

Season 10 is the worst season ever. Three episodes in particular recall, to my mind, the protracted end of a relationship with an ex-girlfriend. This culminated on Valentine's Day 1999, after I'd been up for more than 24 hours finishing a novella, suffered through John Carpenter's Vampires, and was finally able to get in touch with my long-distance girlfriend of several years only to find I'd been dumped for the president of an anime club. ("An" because there was more than one.) Completely numb and unable to contact any of my friends, I sat through I'm With Cupid, and watched Apu and Homer go to retarded lengths to save their marriages.

Worst episode evar.

Beat that.

What I Should Have Wanted To Be When I Grew Up

I forget if I ever had any career goals as a kid. It's possible, but I mostly remember wondering when I would decide I wanted to be something. Instead, I drifted through my childhood thinking, "Well, I guess I'd like a job that paid me money. That would be nice."

Now, if someone had told me I could have a career that involved breaking into forgotten buildings and taking pictures of them, I know I would have applied myself. The threat of arrest seems like a small price to pay, really.

These days, I have no illusions that I can learn how to sneak past guards, let alone take a picture that dosen't dissapoint me. But that's okay, because I can practice my Jenga skills and train to become an Omeganaut. It's not happening this year, but some dreams die hard.

The Potterpocalypse Approaches

In just a few hours, people are legally allowed to throw off their shrink wrap, and enjoy the breezy scent of Harry Potter And The Deathly Hollows.

Far as I know, comic author Warren Ellis' only comment about this is "Fuck Harry Potter." Mind you, he's actually allowed to say this. His publishers decided to put out his first novel, Crooked Little Vein, on the same day. Either they thought:

1- Readers of Harry Potter and people who read comic books do not overlap.
2- Readers who buy Harry Potter will have an extra twenty bucks on them, and will have a burning desire to use it.

These publishers are the same ones who decided to bill the book as being perfect for "hardcore comic fans, mystery aficionados, and all readers looking for a riotous summer reading adventure."

This might be true. But when you're publishing a book for a mass market, I'm not sure I would start off part of my sales pitch by saying it's great if you're a hardcore member of a very small audience of readers. Oh, mystery lovers should like it too... as well as people who like books.

Whatcha Been Listening To?

The Else by They Might Be Giants has just been released, and I bought it on blind faith. It had to be blinded, because Here Come The ABC's was the first album of theirs that made me wonder what the hell had gone wrong. (As opposed to Factory Showroom, where I damn well knew what had gone wrong. Legal disputes rarely bring out the best from people.)

The album has a sticker proclaiming that it's been produced by The Dust Brothers. You know. They're the brothers who aren't chemical. Anyway, there were a couple of moments when I did look up, and say to myself, "I know that drum loop," but that "this is slightly different" feeling faded by the end of the album. It's a lot like The Spine... there are some tracks I found myself going back to and a few that I feel no compunctions about skipping.

The first release of The Else also includes a bonus CD filled with the kinds of tunes They Might Be Giants don't feel like charging you for. In other words, it's a mixed bag.

Also, I'm still listening off-and-on to a pair of CDs by Khate, Field Report and Composition of a Recorded Mass. Unfortunately, the music begs to be listened to in the dark, and most of the time I'm at work by the time the sun finally hides its face.

(A note about Khate: Her music varies between industrial/techno, the aforementioned soundscapes, and noise that sings. In other words, it's that perfect for me, but a hard sell for most of my friends.)

That prohibition doesn't apply to Those Poor Bastards, though. There's never a bad time for evil cowboy music.

And then there's Rammstein. When Du Hast came out, I enjoyed the single well enough, but didn't care for the rest of their work. Now, through the magic of youtube, and the gateway video of Sonne, I'm now enjoying them quite a bit. I have no idea how this happened, and promise to do better in the future.

How Come You Don't Post?

Despite our best intentions, posts continue to trickle in at a rate of two per week. Employment fluctuation (and perhaps even stagnation) is still a factor, as is the fear of becoming another irrelevant echo in the Internet chamber. Add in professional prohibitions ("All employees must agree to refrain from commenting on shower fixtures in print, podcast, and electronic media forms") and the fear of being yet another one of those sites that failed expectations and trails off with an ellipses of unlikely hope...

...yeah, things are looking bleak. But I still blame the green background.

Chances are Canned Food And Shotguns at Blogger will go out in a blaze of glory during PAX 2007 (assuming my wife lets me borrow her laptop and we can post from there). But in the proceeding weeks, we might as well make the most of it.

As for myself, I promise you this. If nothing else, this blog will not be put to rest until I deliver my long-promised report on the state of pornography.

Is This Thing Still On?

Let's link to some bands. Press any button to start. That's it. Tilt your keyboard to engage the power of rock. All right. Now you've got it.

Unless Wikipedia and iTunes are lying to me, this guy has remade an old European dance hit into a song about playing Warcraft III. You can check out a remix of DotA (Defense of the Ancients) here for all your gaming synthpop needs. Personally, I prefer the radio edit on iTunes.

Beefy, one of three possibly sane people I met last year at the post-PAX nerdcore night, continues to impress. MC Front has the flow, and Optimus Rhyme certainly has the band, but Beefy is one of the few other nerdcore rappers I've listened to who exhibits talent beyond the ability to rhyme things with "l33t". Not only can you take pride in understanding "Table Top", you can dance to it.

Finally, allow me to reintroduce Lee Presson, accompanied by his Nails. As I mentioned months ago, he leads some sort of newfangled swing band hopped up on evil. I saw him perform as more than a mere keyboardist for Dead Man's Party last night, and I'd be shocked by how awesome I found it, if I didn't already know how much I love things that are awesome.

Cell phone videos on YouTube don't do the live show justice, so I offer the following example instead. It's like Dr. Forrester left Deep 13 to start a band.

Not Read

There's a monologue at the end of Ratatouille about the relevance of criticism. I'm tempted to go out right now just to hear Peter O'Toole (Phantoms) say it again. But instead, I'll cross my fingers that IMDB got it right:

"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so."

Now, you don't need to have read Ayn Rand (I haven't) or seen The Incredibles (eh...) to suspect that the monologue goes on to suggest that though talent can arise from the most unexpected places, it does not imply that everyone is special. Indeed, the film is very clear in its message that those who aren't talented should submit to the whims of their obvious superiors. The story itself could be seen as a critique of its CGI competitors, Disney, and even other Pixar productions. In the end, the critic is less redeemed than vindicated: "Dear Constant Reader, I'm right again about something that's awesome."

I thoroughly agree with that moral. Some people know their field better than you. But having listened to way too many angry video game podcasts, read too many ignorant on purpose movie and television reviews, and just logged on to any site on the Internet, I think the excerpt above is a more realistic point. Whether it's Titantic or the Lord of the Rings movies, Friends or Lost, 50 Cent or MC Frontalot, they're worth more to the people who live for them than to those whose hate knows no limit.

It takes only a week for new friends or co-workers to label me the guy who hates everything. I'd counter that I'm a guy who likes certain things (turn-based RPGs, depressing/ironic police procedurals, fast-paced German board games, epic mystery) a lot. I just get vengeful when people talk shit about them, and am likely to react with malevolent diatribes on their personal taste. For example, I could've let Tom Shales off for praising Sex in the City if he wasn't such a whiny bitch about Carnivale.

I'm pretty sure it's not what he meant, but maybe Joe Rogan was on to something in his pre-Carlos Mencia "no wants to be a critic when they grow up" rants. Critics, whether professoinal or on message boards, can be bitter, nasty, and short. But not necessarily because they thrive on hate. They just wish they were able to like more.

Which is a long way of saying I'm not going to tell you what book I stopped reading after I reached this sentence:

"Charlene was the kind of girl you might see on a cereal box."

Beware Spoilers

So, Harry Potter The Last is coming out, and the question remains: How are you going to hide from the world? If the Sopranos ending taught us anything, it's that there is nobody you can trust. NPR will compare the book's outcome to the current political climate. Somethingawful will make joking, pretend fake spoilers a week before the book comes out, and then make fun of people who complain by revealing the real spoilers. Someone in your favorite forum will forget to use the [spoiler] tag.

And of course, there are your co-workers. Your fellow readers might understand, but the people who only watch the movies are a danger.

Of course, all of this might not be enough. I honestly don't think Harry is going to end the book with his heart being torn out by Voldemort... but if it does, complete strangers are going to run up to you, screaming "Harry's Dead! Harry's Dead!"

You might just not want to go outside for a few days.

Buried In A Cheap Cardboard Coffin

When we weren't looking, Cheapass Games died.

Admittedly, the current claim is that Cheapass Games is only hibernating. However, it's employees have moved on, James Ernest is designing games for other people, and Toivo is no longer collating.

I'm not sure what lead to this state of events, my three theories are:

1- At it turns out, people would rather pay 300% more for cool plastic widgets. The evidence for this can be found in the catalogue of "James Earnst Games," an imprint of Cheapass games that specialized in full-color card games, including previous hits like Give Me The Brain, and Before I Kill You, Mr. Bond. And while Killing Doctor Lucky was fun in black and white, the Paizo company has determined that it would be even more fun to do so in glorious Technicolor. (Paizo being the company that has licensed certain Cheapass Games assets. Perhaps I'll finally get a nice copy of Spree.)

2- Game Designer James Earnst's obsession with games where you bid for resources. For every The Great Brain Robbery, there seemed to be a Bleeding Sherwood, or a Jacob Marley, Esq.. I own some of those Bidding Games, and I can tell you that the only one I could ever convince people to play a second time was The Big Cheese. And that's because The Big Cheese could be played at a restaurant, while waiting for the pizza to come out. I do not imagine my experience is atypical.

3- My demographic cannot keep a business alive. Perhaps there was something else involved in the company's demise other than low sales, but given that Secret Tijuana Death Match never sold out of it's initial 5,000 copy print run, we can conclude that it was at least a strong factor.

At least the dream of James Ernest lives on. Unspeakable Words is a fun card game by James Earnst, where you try to gain 100 points by spelling out words. Every angle in the letters you use earns you a point, and the more points you make makes the word more likely to drive you insane. (Which potentially leads to a number of skipped turns, unless optional rules are used. Optional rules always make me wonder how fully a game was play-tested.) Sanity is measured by thirty neat little C'thulhu tokens, which could easily have been represented by pennies instead. I don’t know if the game has legs, but the first few play-throughs have been enjoyable enough that I’m tempted to snap up my own copy.

Alternatively, you can play Stonehenge, a board game with five different ways to play. James Ernest suggests you play a game that involves bidding on things.

Brought To You By The Letter P

Pleasant readers! Please press play and peruse the performance displayed prominently in this post. Published by non-contributor Inphynit, and made available through financial consideration provided by The Letter P, it is a passionate portrayal of one man's profuse love for a consonant he believes deserves particular praise. Perhaps, should you have a password, you might ponder its potential value to viewers: specifically, how it pertains on a scale of 1 to 5 points of light in the penumbra?