My Brain Hurts

Sat down last night to watch Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children. My brain is still leaking out my ears.

I spent--nay, some may say wasted--many hours playing the original Final Fantasy VII game back on the old trusty Playstation One. So I was looking forward to seeing this film, after the beautiful but disappointing Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within back in 2001. Well, the problems with that film--that it was boring, namely--have been rectified here. You won't be bored. Confused as hell? Oh yeah. Count on that.

The film makes very little effort in actually explaining the backstory. Either you've played Final Fantasy VII or you haven't. If you have, then you stand a better chance of understanding who everyone is and what is kinda going on. If you haven't, just enjoy the pretty pictures.

And it is pretty. The action scenes are astounding achievements in computer animation, but they're so damn fast that it's like the producers are counting on you to buy the DVD simply so you can slow things down and see what's happening. That sense of awe that so many FF cutscenes engender are in evidence in almost every shot, so it's hard to not walk away from this feeling impressed. But the story?

Look, I've played the game, and even I was wondering what was going on. Something about the planet making everyone sick (Final Fantasy has always been less than subtle with its environmental messages)and how the evil Sephiroth (the bad guy from the game, thought dead) might come back. And lots of motorcycles, swords, and gravity ignoring martial arts.

So now I'm thinking of maybe replaying the game. After I finish Morrowind, Tales of Symphonia, The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, Jade Empire, Neverwinter Nights......

We Were Amused. Quite A Bit.

If New Earth suffered from a few bumps (the editing, an overlong chase scene), then Tooth and Claw makes up for it. As in, tons.

Producer and writer Russell T. Davies said he wanted this episode to have 'kung fu ninjas, werewolves, and Queen Victoria'--and that's what we get. As my friend David so succintly put it, this episode shouldn't have worked--but, man, did it ever. This was thrilling, exciting stuff--from the soundtrack to the monster battles themselves, this was among the best new Doctor Who we've seen...well, since last season.

The story is simple: The Doctor and Rose intend to go and see Ian Drury and the Blockheads in 1979 (Rose calls the Doctor an 'old punk, with a bit of rockabilly thrown in')but they're off by a 100 years. They run into Queen Victoria's entourage, taking a path to Aberdeen since the railroad is mysteriously incapacitated. The Doctor and Rose of course join up with them (Rose and The Doctor quickly make a bet regarding the Queen that is representative of the fun magic of this show), and then..things go bad.

There are old mansions. There are prisoners. And most wonderfully of all, there are werewolves.

Tennant is once again superb here. This is a Doctor for all the fans who grew up in the Eighties, loving new wave and British humour. Y'know, like this poor old blogger.

It's great stuff. Enjoy.

Getting Dissed At The Crossing

So it's been two months since I fired up Animal Crossing. Sue me. I have a life that doesn't involve spending my days getting bells to pay off that extortionist racoon, Tom Nook. So when I turned the game back on after all this time, I wondered what I would find. I was rather hoping for a nuclear wasteland, with zombie animals lurching about.

No such luck.

What I did find was everyone in my little town of Dorkia thinks I'm a jerk. "Where have you been?" I was asked by Pearl, the passive aggressive cat who suspiciously lives alone. "I hope you're all rich now," she sneered.When I met Snork, he acted like I was a complete stranger, asking me what right I had to just enter his house unannounced. Then it was big drama when he 'remembered' who I was. What.A.Jerk. And if that wasn't bad enough, he went and painted the roof of my house pink. After I'd paid Nook 750 bells to paint it blue. Flush go those bells!

Speaking of my house--it was infested with cockroaches. Had to stomp all of them out, seeing their little ghost cockroach selves float away up into the ceiling. Like no one could check in and give the place a sweep while I was gone. Bunch of dillweeds.

Hopper had moved away while I was gone, but I could have cared less. Never liked him. A squirrel called Peanut has moved in, and already was dealing on me, calling me a 'slacker'. Groucho--the eternally grumpy bear--asked me if I was going to 'do some work for a change'. And Cheri? Don't even get me started. It's like she's gone off whatever meds she was forgetting to take. One second she's chirping at me for being gone so long, and the next she's crying because she thinks her youth is gone. And they wonder why in hell I left?

Animal Crossing. There's no cartoon animal world like it.

"That's Enigmatic. That's Textbook Enigmatic."

Just saw the new Doctor Who episode, 'New Earth'.

This episode--along with the rest of Season 2 won't air in Canada until the fall, so if you want to stay unspoiled until then, well, don't read. Go away. Come back later.

I thought it was a much more confident opener than last season's 'Rose'. While I've grown to love that particular episode--namely for the performances of Christopher Eccleston and the gorgeous Billie Piper--I thought much of it was very clunky. The trash bin eating Mickey, the Auton invasion of London, such as it was, and the final showdown with the Nestene Consciousness just...well, weren't as smooth as they could have been. But while there is some clunkiness with 'New Earth', there isn't as much of it. And--wonderfully--there actually seems to be a budget this time.

I mean, look at that photo: SPECIAL EFFECTS!

The story deals with the Doctor and Rose heading to the planet 'New Earth', which is where humanity decided to throw up sticks after the original planet upped and exploded. (Episode Two, Season One--"The End of the World'). Here, the Doctor and Rose discover the ghastly secret the local hospital--run by the cat people Sisters of Plenitude--have hidden to effect their near miraculous cures. They also encounter other plotpoints from 'The End of the World'--namely Cassandra, who somehow survived dying, and the Face of Bo.

On the clunky side, the editing was bad in a couple of places, with scenes really just crashing into one another, creating a sense of momentary confusion. There is an extended chase sequence that just feels extended. That's it for clunky.

The old science fiction cliche of 'mindswapping' plays strongly here, with Cassandra taking over the bodies of both Rose and the Doctor. This could be a trapdoor for overacting, but both Tennant and Piper handle it well. There is some play-for-the-male-and-lesbian-audience scenes where Cassandra explores the more intriguing aspects of Rose's body (' A very nice rear bumper' as Cassandra puts it, running her hands over Rose's behind) as well having Rose show some rather extensive cleavage. Not that I mind, personally. In fact, I think I may have cheered. Inside, you understand.

Tennant makes a superb Doctor here. There is also some hints about what we may see in the future--there is reference to 'the lonley god' (the Doctor?) and how the Face of Bo will meet with the Doctor one final time to impart some massive 'secret'.

I love that stuff.

Best line? After hearing the Face of Bo's crytpic statement about meeting again, the Doctor says, "That's enigmatic. That's textbook enigmatic."

A good, solid episode. Colour me happy.

Geek Nirvana

So I went downtown today, trying to make wine out of sour grapes. To wit: since I dropped thirty bucks on Star Wars:Galaxies only to find it won't work on my alleged up to date system, I thought I would at least go to Head2Head and play there. I have an account with SWG until next month, so why not?

I call Head2Head. Yes, they have SWG loaded, but only on four computers. Could I reserve so that I don't get disappointed? Of course. So today at noon I walk in. A very helpful woman sets me up, and I get ready to play.

Only it doesn't work even there. Turns out no one has played SWG there in over a year. A tech came over, again very helpful, but even he is stymied. The woman at the counter--who was a knockout, may I say--added time to my account for the headache. So since it seems destined I'll never play this damn game, I thought I'd just mess around with the treasure trove of PC games Head2Head had.

So I finally got to play Call of Duty 2. Adored it. There is no way in hell that would even deign to enter the CD tray of my system with its system reqs, so this was my first taste of this bit of magic. I made it through three missions in the Russian campaign. All praise heaped on this game is well heaped. I was also chuffed to see that my progress will be saved on Head2Head's system, so when I come back, I can start there again. Yippee!

I also took a look at Star Wars:Battlefront 2. It seemed really chuggish, so I didn't spend much time with that. I think I just carry this anti-LucasArts aura or something. I have the first Battlefront
, and do love it. Just beat it recently. So there. I rock.

Also took a look at another game that begins with B--Battlefield 2. I've heard even more praise for this one, but for some reason, it just kept going online, and some asshole kept shooting me. So I got fed up with that. But it does look good. And by that point, nearly two hours had gone by.

So--a good time. It was wonderfully geeky to glance around and see what other players were playing: some metal dude was playing Guild Wars, while a very serious looking older man was playing Oblivion. Of course, there were the WoW people. The counter woman just kept an eye on all of us, us poor souls, each seeking to not be ourselves for a few hours.

"I Think My Feelings Are More Important Than Some Animal'

Bad day today. As in, bad fucking day.

There was an animal crisis today. Three rabbit babies were found on the grounds. The staff--who pride themselves on being 'environmental' and 'green'--were completely useless. The simple act of just leaving them alone was beyond them. Since seeing animals under threat is the worst fucking thing I can ever experience, my temper was short today. I shared what can politely be called 'cross words' with another staff member, and was gifted with the quote that opens today's blog.

I sometimes hate this planet, and all the selfish motherfuckers that are on it. But not you, gentle reader. Never you.

If This Doesn't Make You Smile....

Geek heaven,this.

This made me smile after staying up until 4:00 am trying to load Star Wars Galaxies. After all the loading, after taking my credit card, the game then tells me my computer can't run the game.

Still, the link above shows that Star Wars doesn't always suck.

My Favourite Comics In The Whole Wide World

And it was an epic adventure!! Especially since I was missing some body parts!

--"One Piece"--Eiichiro Oda

People occassionally ask me--well, okay, not 'occassionally', but now and again. Okay, maybe once a year. If that. But anyway, people will ask me: "What is your favourite comic? Of all the comics you read, which one is your absolute favourite?"

To which I answer: " Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto."

And then I get the blank stare.

While I have I do love super hero comics, much of that has to do with the fact that I've been reading them since I was four. I grew up with characters like Batman, Superman, Spidey and the rest of the eternally unchanging heroes. There is this bond I have with them that people like my wife don't have, which may explain why she remains fairly unimpressed with them. I'm not sure if I came to super heroes now, in my forties, that I would be so ready be willing to give over to them as much as I have. There are times when I simply want to quit reading them altogether--there is never really any deep sense of change, the marketing of the books is so blatant, and so geared at making you spend every last cent you have in order to have a complete collection, and for the past ten years or so there has been a growing sense of cynicism both with readers and creators that I think my time and money can be best spent elsewhere.

And yet, there are books like Daredevil. The Brubaker run on Captain America. The pure martial arts cheesecake that is Birds of Prey. And so I stick with them, when perhaps, really, I shouldn't.

But then there's manga. For some reason, I've fallen in love with Japanese comics over the past few years, primarily, I suppose, because they are everything American comics are not: they are odd, change occurs and carries weight, and most importantly of all, they end. Whereas Batman will continue until the sun goes nova, many manga have definite ends in sight. Creators then create new storylines, with new heroes, and go and explore those.

Which is one of the reasons I love Naruto
. Every month, I try and pick up the latest issue of Shonen Jump, just to lose myself in the complete whackiness of a little boy ninja who has the spirit of a Nine Tailed Fox stuck inside him. A world where ninjas can cast Harem Jutsu, surrounding their enemies with nude women. A world where ninjas have exams that can kill them. And where you can trap an opponent by cutting your hair.

Shonen Jump also carries some other great manga:One Piece, about a boy made of rubber who wants to be King of The Pirates; Hikaru No Go, which tells the story of a young boy training to play the board game Go--oddly compelling; Yu-Gi=Oh, which if you can ignore the card game juggernaut that accompanies it, is a surprisingly dark look on power politics and reincarnation, with heavy Egyptian themes; Shaman King, another manga whose anime spinoff lacks any of the darkness and grim themes found in the parent manga, andYuYu Hakusho, which is perhaps my least favourite, but is still worth reading.

So that's how I've spent this morning. Drinking coffee and reading manga. And not missing western superheroes AT ALL.

Drilled!

Honestly.

My back tooth felt like barbed wire stuck in my gums, so I went to the dentist. Which I hear is what you're supposed to do. Turns out I had a cavity behind a cavity, with part of my tooth actually broken off. So three hundred dollars and much metal drilling in my mouth later, I came out the dentist's with a brand new filling and a mouth that felt like a Goodyear Tire.

Note to world: no one should have to have dental surgery alone. I think a beautiful woman should hold your hand the entire time, then give you a decent, forty second hug afterwards. You shouldn't stumble out into a rainy parking lot, then sit in your car for five minutes watching the smoke drift from between your teeth.

Came home, feeling the way you do after having a drill in your mouth. Looked into my backyard. Saw a duck sitting in my bird bath.

Suddenly, the day was salvaged. Because nothing is funnier than a duck in a birdbath.

The Uncensored Doctor Who Column! Hide The Kids!

As perhaps five of you know, I also write the column 'Fan Life' for the Doctor Who fan magazine, 'Enlightenment'. I've been asked to rewrite my last column because it was too' racy', so I thought I'd present it here. My editor's reasons are ones I understand, even if I think it does present a bit of a slippery slope: since the CBC now links to the magazine, he doesn't want to present material that may offend younger readers (or more specifically, the parents of younger readers). All it would take is one irate letter to the Ceeb, and bye bye goes Enlightenment's in with the CBC.

Fair enough.

So if you're old enough, and don't mind a bit of naughty humour, here is the column that never was. An edited, pared-down version will perhaps appear in 'Enlightenment'. Here's the one with teeth.

FAN LIFE

One of the defining characteristics of a Who Fan is our habitual bitchiness. It defines us, separates us, and binds our anti-social tendencies together. Whereas Trek fans can always be counted on for a smile, a hug, and a disturbing acoustic rendition of Vulcan Love (as performed by the Captain and T’Neil!), Who fans..well...can’t. We’re fond of our frowns, our hunched shoulders, our belief that if only Lucasfilm had done the SPFX for The Happiness Patrol, our beloved show would have never been cancelled.
So even with Doctor Who back on screen, as good–if not better–than most of us begrudgingly hoped for deep in our black, Ogron hearts, even with experiencing the quiet joy that holding a new Doctor Who Annual brings (and no, I didn’t tear up. No, really, I didn’t), even with all the mortgage threatening Who merchandise out there...there’s still something that just isn’t right.
The toys.
Yes, it’s great to have toys again. Do you how many years I’ve had to make do with my Dapol TARDIS and it’s tragically broken door? (I can’t say more. The wound’s too deep.) How many wine soaked nights I’ve spent moving my Seventh Doctor and Ace figures across my kitchen table, their joints as flexible as cryogenically preserved corpses as I mounted my weekly re-enactment of Dragonfire? And the day my Dalek no longer rolled forward after I pulled it back? I just remember waking up in a field, the tears still drying on my face
But even with the release of such soon-to-be-hoarded, buried-with-me-when-I-die-it’s-in-my-will-no-really goodness like the 10th Doctor action figure or the gold remote control Dalek, I just can’t help feeling...they could be better. I mean, if I’m going to cause my credit rating to self destruct buying these things, shouldn’t they do more than just take up room on my Target packed shelves?
And so, with the hope that Russell T. Davies is reading, (or at least Billie Piper, who hopefully has a weakness for 40 year old fanzine writers who at least bathe daily) I offer...The Ultimate Fan Life Doctor Who Toy Guide!

1. The TARDIS Bank
Okay, so we have one. Granted, it looks cool. But why just stop with a flashing light and a Christopher Eccleston soundbite when you put in your hard earned loonies? If it’s a TARDIS, why can’t the BBC actually have it travel in time? Go ahead a bazillion years, so that your loony grows in interest, doing that compound jango, and when it returns to your time, it’s now worth...like.. ten bucks. Now you can now afford to buy Doctor Who Magazine! And because it’s a bank, it can ignore all that hoopla about ‘time paradoxes’, because as we all know, banks make their own rules. Everyone knows that the mere utterance of ‘fiduciary’ can shatter at least six laws of physics in a one mile radius.

2. The Sonic Screwdriver
Again, much with the coolness. Now you can freak out drunk friends at last call by whipping out your own sonic screwdriver, turning on the blue light, then mysteriously saying “I’m needed” then running out before the tab arrives. But why not forgo the nasty bar scene entirely? Since most of us cynical Who fans have turned to absinthe to ease our disappointment over Nicola Bryant never appearing in Mayfair, why can’t the BBC give us a sonic screwdriver that... makes screwdrivers? Surely a prop that can get us drunk is far more valuable–and a better aid to fandom–than one that looks like it fell off a (non-spinning, non-homicidal) Christmas tree?
Imagine the bar fights and injuries it could save. No more would chairs be busted across teeth in shouting matches over just how bad The Mysterious Planet was. We’d all be too smashed at home, passed out in front of The Green Death, our sonic screwdrivers good for at least six stiff glasses before needing a refill.
They could even work it into the series.
ROSE: Ah, Doctor! Here come the monsters! Oooer! Hope Mum’s okay!
DOCTOR: Here, Rose. Have a bit of sonic courage! (Activates sonic screwdriver. Hands glass to Rose, magically pulling a cherry from behind her ear before dropping it into glass)
ROSE: Cheers, Doctor! (Glug) Hic. My life is horrible. I sleep with Mickey and my thighs look fat. Gimme annuver.
DOCTOR: But at least you’re not afraid of the monsters, Rose. At least you have that.
ROSE: Shaddup, Poindexter. Anyone tell you the Eighties are over? Stupid (hic) git.

3. The Mickey Punching Bag
Okay, so don’t have one. But we should.
It could even have a voice chip.
“I’ve seen Rose in her birfday suit, mate!”
PUNCH.
Repeat until buff and or/laid.

4. Happy Jack Prophylactics
Okay, so teaming up Captain Jack with birth control is a bit like teaming up Pamela Anderson with white trash rockers. It’s just too easy. (Yet a commercial for Captain Jack johnnies with the Who’s ‘Happy Jack’ in the background does have a certain rightness to it.)
So why not go one better? Since we fans will read anything with Who on the cover (see Fan Life), why not produce a Captain Jack book on...umm..social interaction? Rassillon knows we all could use some pointers. Surely there would be a market for such books. With titles like They All Feel The Same Way In The Dark, A Tentacle Is Only A Problem If You Want It To Be, and I’m So Hot They Call It Torch-Wood, I think we could all learn a bit about the mysteries of love. And infections. Especially down there. And I don’t mean Australia.
So there you go, BBC. The gauntlet has been thrown.
(And if you don’t mind, BBC, could you give it back? I mean, it’s one of a set, with Prydonian inlay, and I keep it beside my Mel Bush doll, so when you’re done. Whenever’s best.)

Shock! Star Trek That Doesn't Suck!

I've never hid the fact that I do not like the television series. I loved TOS as a kid, but when 'The Next Generation' hit the screens with a comfy hug, I thought the main concept for the show was to provide comfort food for its aging fanbase, and not to actually present science fiction stories. This continued with the execrable 'Voyager' series, although there was an attempt to do something original with 'DS9'--which may prove why of all the Star Trek franchises, this was the least popular with fans. With 'Enterprise', the crap meter was ratcheted back up to 10, and finally the show ended.

Having said that, though, I have enjoyed the print stories. And this contiunes with 'Star Trek: Vanguard: Harbinger". And yes, that is one hell of a mouthful. Said the actress to the bishop.

This novel, by David Mack, does Trek right: it moves away from the characters we know far too well, and gives us new ones, in a new setting, with a new threat. Even though it takes place early on in the TOS era (Kirk and Crew are here, but play a refreshingly small role), this still feels fresh. As well, the novel does things that we would never, ever see on any series produced by Paramount: there is graphic, almost sickening violence, adultery, and--most surprising of all--hot Klingon/Vulcan lesbian sex.

Yet besides satisfying the lurid 12 year old in me, Mack also provides interesting characters--from a Vulcan recovering from what amounts to a rape attack, a guilty philanderer, a smuggler with a troubling conscience, and a hard as nails commander who has trouble with guilt and mortality. Mack also provides some of the best space battle prose I've read this side of Iain Banks.

So like Peter David's 'Excalibur' Trek series, this new one seems to be keeping Trek alive. It's a good concept, and it deserves to continue. But if you're looking for childish giggles, soppy morality lessons, and a feeling that everything will be fine at the end, look elsewhere. And I mean you, sad Trek fan. This is MY Trek.

The Week That Wouldn't Die

Car problems again. The sort of thing that makes you shout 'cockFUCKER!', which doesn't really make much sense and/or help, but it does seem to ease the need to scream. Which is good.

I got off fairly light this time--it was only a rusted out muffler strap. So every time I turned a corner, I heard this ungodly THUD! from somewhere in the nether regions of my beloved car Anneke. So after work, I walked through the East End of London, which is always depressing, to pick up the beast. Came home, tired of the week, tired of the grey day, to see that bastard squirrel--which had moved into the--wainscotting?--the plastic shelf that lies beneath the eavestrough?--thingamabob?--anyway, the little treerat bastard has now chewed several holes in the whatever-it-is. I did not shout 'cockFUCKER!' but I wanted to. Which is bad.

So it's Friday. I'm burnt out. I hope tonight to just play Kingdom Hearts, maybe some Morrowind, and end the night reading 'Gardens of the Moon'.

Then sleep. Oh, blessed sleep....

My Dead Career, With Comics For Therapy

Sadly, Cryptozoic Gardener just went tits up. Something to do with investing heavily in penny tech stock. Or maybe it was pleisosaur insurance. The world of high finance is beyond me.

Still, did manage to read something in the wreckage of my career....


STAR WARS: THE RETURN OF TAG AND BINK SPECIAL EDITION
'Episode VI.1 (Rubio/Marangan)

Finally, a Star Wars comics that makes sense. Finally, ROTJ cleared up! So that wasn't Boba in the Sarlaac pit! I can sleep easy tonight for the first time in over twenty years!


The joy of Tag and Bink is that it's the Rosencrantz and Gildenstern of the Star Wars universe. Tag and Bink are Rebel heroes that have been in all the movies--you just haven't known it was them. Rubio's script is high satire for diehard, late-losing-their-virginity- SW geeks like me. Very funny, funny stuff--but means nothing to anyone else. Which is what makes it special. A special edition. Get it? Ha ha ha....ahem.


RUNAWAYS #14


"Parental Guidance, Chapter One" (Vaughn/Alphona)

I like the premise of this book. A group of teenagers who discover their parents are supervillians, so they decide to be good to make up for it. This issue just sets the groundwork for the next big storyline, with a big surprise ending that will surprise longtime readers and make newbies go 'what the fuck?"

I thought of two things while reading this. The first was that I liked how Vaughn used dialogue to move the entire issue. There isn't a ton of action here--in fact, outside of the final page and one shot of magic from Nico ('Daughter of Dark Wizards!') Minoru's staff, that's it. The second related to something I had read in Wired . Neil Gaiman was talking about how he's noticing that more and more young women are showing up at his signings, with the article postulating that this may be the new growing demographic in comics: young women and girls. More and more young girls are reading manga these days, as evidenced in the sales of collections like Shojo Beat and books like Rurouni Kenshin, to name a few. A very few. These selfsame girls are then moving onto collections of Sandman, and when they burn through those, then onto books like Fables, and Y:The Last Man. As well as keeping up with their manga.

It's nice to see. It's even nicer when I hear my niece is now a devout reader of Runaways after I gave her a collection for Christmas.

At Long Last!

I've finally done it--I've quit writing for the London Free Press. It's been a good seven years, even with the lack of any raise and being buried on the back page of Viewpoint, beneath old ladies writing letters trying to find old bars of Sunlight soap. Starting Monday, I become the lead columnist for Cryptozoic Gardener, a glossy magazine out of Duluth, Minnesota.

Cryptozoic Gardener made me an offer I couldn't refuse: a chance to write for what may be the biggest home orientated magazine since Home And Garden. The twist--heh heh--of this magazine is that it focuses on people who want to incorporate fossils into their gardens, and by extension, their own lives. Part of my job will be to visit said people and conduct short interviews. I'm being teamed with a photographer--Aimee LaChance-- who apparently was the head photographer for the last Flock of Seagulls reunion tour. The Gardener has provided us with a minivan, credit vouchers, and a very, VERY generous expense account.

So goodbye London. Look to someone else to write your geek orientated column. I'm off with Aimee to look at T-Rex bones beside begonias.