There's Genius, And Then There's Fucking Genius

As I still reel from the mind bleach of seeing Britney Spear's private parts--complete with C-section scar!--I found myself despairing of the world. Is this what the 21st century has to offer--global access to a B-list celebrity flashing her labia to a bored populace? Sipping the absinthe I always keep in my hand, I wondered darkly:

Is art dead? Has genius been lost in a porn download? Is this how the world ends--not with a bang, but with Kevin Federline actually looking like the mature one?

But then I realized art hasn't died. That hope that still lives. That there is genius, and then there is fucking genius. So put your goochers on, Britney. I now have this to sustain me.

Who Are You?

I'm a Dedicated Reader.

And you?

Report From The MMO Front

So I was up until 4:30 last night playing World of Warcraft. Oddly, I don't see myself as addicted, because I don't think I am. Not much,anyway. But I was still awake at 2:00 a.m., reading Tishimongo Blues by Elmore Leonard, and I thought: What the hell? So I clicked on, headed to Auberline, and fought 10th level crabs and giant bears. What else is there to do when you're 41 years old, no kids, and your wife has common sense and goes to bed at a decent hour? At that point, playing a night elf with a giant panther at your side seems almost sane.

My thoughts on WoW so far fall into the 'I think it's fun' category and the 'I can't stand fucking 12 year olds on chatline' sinkpit. Like most things in life I attempt, WoW makes me feel like I'm doomed to failure with no clear idea on what I'm supposed to do. But as in life, I keep plugging away. I've managed to make 13th level in my Alliance night elf hunter, as well as the same with my evil Horde undead warrior.
(Tirmoggles and Crabcakes, respectively.) While I find the Alliance lands very beautiful--riding the hippogrif across the Veiled Sea is something each geek should do, at least once--I like the dark humour found in the undead Horde zones of Tirsifal Falls and the Undercity. When a female undead says she'll go with you because "Hey, I'm dead, how bad can it be?" you can't help but feel at home.

I've given up on Star Wars Galaxies. The underlying irony to this MMO is that while it's indeed 'massive', there aren't that many other players around. I've played for hours without seeing another player. Abandoned villages litter Tatooine, set up by players who have long since moved on. It's an odd, sad feeling to play: like walking through your old public school playground, and finding the school burnt out and empty. One day, with a massive reboot, SWG could be the game to beat, but until more money is put into it, it's being kept alive only by Star Wars enthusiasts who just want any sort of SW experience, regardless of how crappy it is.

I've also started Eve Online. The learning curve here is very steep, but the tutorials take you by the hand and make it both fun and easy to learn. There are worse ways to spend the night than flying a ship through space while a British female computer voice purrs in your ear. The chat lines are also much more mature--I envision thousands of balding 40 year olds hunched over computers worldwide--which makes for a much more relaxing experience. None of these constant attempts to sell crap and declare Stone Sour the 'best fucking band ever' that one sees on WoW--in fact, on Tuesday night, everyone was talking about The Fifth Element, with far too many 'Multipass' jokes. (Okay, so I was making most of them.)

I'm still on the free ten day trial with Eve, and haven't decided if I'll stick around. But it is fun.

But then, as always, what is the cost? Well, outside of money, I've not written anything outside of a fairly weak Free Press column. This is weighing on me, but sometimes, staring at a fields of space or monster filled dungeons is far more appealing at the end of a day than staring at a white, forbidding screen, the cursor just blinking like an impatient taskmaster.

Well, I'm sure my Protestant work ethic will beat me into submission soon enough. But for now, it's fun to be a deadhead gamer, just like the other ten million people wandering the MMO universe.

There Can Be Only Three

I know. You're sitting there, either at work, sipping coffee, or trying to attach a rocket to a jetpack, wondering: What were the best three comics released this week?

Well, I'm here to help. Here they are:

1. The Walking Dead #32

Even though it's a quick read (lots of action this time around, as Rick and Co. try to escape from the evil sadistic Governor), you'll still find yourself almost ripping the pages as you try to break lightspeed turning them. Ends on one of those cliffhangers that fills you with both impatience -- the fact that Dead doesn't have a regular release schedule can cause ulcers in diehard fans--and with fear--fear for what might happen, and for what might not happen. If anyone needed some revenge, it's Michonne. Hope our girl gets it. And that it's gory as all hell.

2. Runaways #22

Only two more issues until Joss Whedon takes over, and writer Brian K. Vaughn is out to break our hearts before he leaves. Live Fast Part One shows why this book is so damned good: great dialogue, characters you can love, and that elusive feeling of a fictional work being more alive than the real world around us. But if anything happens to Nico, I'm bustin' heads.

3. Astonishing X-Men #18

Whedon again shows everyone how the X-Men should be done. Every issue I read leaves me feeling I've just read the best X-Men story I'll ever read, and once again, Joss Whedon pulled it off here. I haven't loved Kitty Pryde this much since the Claremont/Byrne days. Whedon starts his last story arc in the next issue, so if you haven't been reading, this is your last chance. Or you could just buy the trades. There is that.

Man, Can I Relate

Aural Antidotes--The Final Chapter

I did my best to resist my love of J-Pop. I really did. But I can't resist adding this song, which isn't J-Pop at all, but could be. Should be. In fact, I will declare that it is--only more Britpop-ish.

I'd call it BJ-Pop, but that just generates the wrong sort of image.

Bop away!

Aural Antidotes #2

The next song was John Peel's favourite. Legend has it that he was driving when he first heard this song, and he pulled off to the side, and wept--this, he felt, was the perfect song about being a teenager. When Peel passed away, it was the last song played at his funeral.

It's a great song. And it's a great way to shake off the crap November around us. Here it is.

November Aural Antidotes

It's a crappy November. The days are grey, pregnant with the imminent threat of even greyer days of slush, cold, and...well, more slush. So for the next three posts, I will present the gift of music to battle against November, or as I like to call it, the Gollum of Winter.

The selections had to satisfy three major criteria:

1. They had to be uplifting, well crafted pop songs.

2. They had to be relatively short.

3. They had to have amusing videos.

So up first is this one.

Any resemblance of the singers to my wife is just an added bonus.

Be Thankful!

What are super-heroes thankful for? This gives us an idea.

Aquaman made me laugh out loud.

Thanks to Lisa for sending this along. You rock, girl.

A Rare Sighting

This is indeed a find. This is one of the few known photographs of the dreaded 'Dungeon Master Screen Troll'. Long debated to be myth by scholars worldwide, the Screen Troll has been blamed for many RPG disasters--from dice being smacked off tables to roll beneath refrigerators and stoves, falling asleep on dungeon notes, or munching on chips or licorice needed to sustain the Dungeon Master as he/she works.

The Screen Troll. Love him. Fear him. Bring him treats.

There Is No Justice

I had one and a half glasses of wine last night. Woke up this morning with the mother of all hangovers: the type that sits behind your left eye and takes turns poking your pain centres with hot pokers and other fun things found in dungeons. One and a half glasses. It'll be Ovaltine and cookies for me next.

Cher watched Wordplay again last night, since she's all about the words that cross. So this morning I thought I give the Saturday New York Times a go. Haven't actually done that bad. You know things will go well when there's a Repo Man clue. Give me Emilio Estevez's only indie film, and victory is mine.

Have I mentioned that NCIS is absolutely brilliant? I never thought a spin-off from JAG would be as clever, fun, and seemingly wanting to pander to geeks who love their sarcasm. I have converted a friend of mine so badly to this show she now has her own NCIS wallpaper on her computer, and is trying to download all of the previous seasons. So if you haven't seen it, give it a look. And it has the delightful Abby, with something that I swear are lightsabres. I mean, guys! They're aiming this one at us!


Life On Mars starts on Showcase this Monday at ten. It's a cross between Doctor Who, CSI, and Starsky and Hutch. The first episode isn't as sharp as the ones that follow, since it really has to drive home a lot of narrative to set the stage, but it really is a gem afterwards.



The biggest part of the magic here is the relationship between Sam (he in the black leather jacket, fresh from 2005, who finds himself back in 1973)and DCI Gene Hunt (he of the slouch and sideburns). Sam is a cop from our time, with a deep understanding of forensics and psychological interrogations. Gene is from the Seventies, and often just enjoys punching the shit out of people as a form of 'interrogation'.The hi tech police work that Sam knows is impossible to use in 1973 Manchester, both technologically and culturally: these are rough guys dealing with even rougher people. Sam and Gene often come to blows in the series themselves as Sam is outraged at the treatment prisoners receive, and of what he thinks is barbaric investigative practices. But before you nod off, this show is also extremely funny--when it isn't being chilling, sad, and a huge celebration of a time many of us lived through, but only remember for its naffness. There was magic back then, and Life On Mars remembers that.

Yeah, I like me good TV. Go forth, enjoy, geek out.

Bookalicious

I hope all of you caught Doctor Who tonight. I've seen that episode three times now, and each time as it ends I get this watering problem with my eyes. I really should see a Doctor.

Spent this weekend reading some oddly great stuff--and having a very surreal few hours moving a karate school into a piano store. I kept looking for Benny Hill to run in amongst the pianos chasing a small bald man.

As for the oddly great stuff--first up is Fantastic Four: The End. This is a six issue mini-series by Alan Davis, which should be reason enough to go buy it right now. It tells what purports to be the final FF story, set in an alternate (or not)future. IF you're a Marvel junkie, you will just ooh and ahh your way through this. Tons of very cool surprises, so if you do pick it up, don't flip through the book first.

I'm also reading the novelization of Revenge of the Sith. I had expected this to be a test of my Star Wars geekery, but author Matthew Stover has so pulled some very impressive tricks. Painting both Obi-Wan and Anakin as the pop stars of their day was a nice move, as is Stover's using his novelization to focus on events not in the films. To wit: here we don't see Anakin and Obi-Wan fighting their way through Grievous' ship to rescue Fuckhead Palpatine: instead we have a very interesting conversation between Dooku and ole Palpy, which makes Dooku's getting screwed over all the more powerful. As well, Stover really ties the novel both into the Dark Horse comic series and the wonderful animated Clone Wars. So if you're a Star Wars geek like meself, this is a very pleasant surprise.

Oh, and I also bought a Captain Marvel doll. Here it is.

Lady Vengeance

Call me a cultural lout--I know some of you want to!--but I haven't seen any of Park Chan Wook's Revenge trilogy. So in typical ass backwards fashion, I started this morning with Lady Vengeance, the last film in the trilogy.

Lady Vengeance is being sold here as an action film, in the vein of Kill Bill--and it really isn't. While the first Kill Bill is a great comic book/martial arts film, Lady Vengeance
has much more in common with the much slower Kill Bill 2--but with far more style and complete fucked-upedness. The easy word to reach for here is 'stylistic', but this film is more than that: it's at times just absolutely beautiful.

I did mention the fucked-upedness, right? Because Lady Vengeance is surely that. Without giving anything away, the plot deals with a woman being released from prison after serving 13 years for kidnapping and murdering a young boy. Of course, she didn't do it, and has a terrible plan of revenge for the sonofabitch who did. Yet where you would expect huge gunfights and lots of screaming, our heroine is cold and calculated--almost chillingly so, making you wonder if she isn't really the monster everyone thinks she is. When the revenge finally is about to be taken, the plot takes a horrifying twist, with the film now looking at the costs of revenge upon those who seek it. Is revenge justice, or is revenge simply the expression of pain? Up to you to decide.

There are some scenes that are difficult to watch--scenes of children being terrified, and a scene that had me reaching for the DVD Fast Forward when a gun is pushed into a dog's face. (I don't watch animals or children being hurt). So be warned--the film can be tough in a few places.

But it's worth the time. Some really odd Korean touches--in a scene of gnawing horror, seeing people serving each other coffee and green tea, trying to maintain an aura of civilization when the reason they are gathered there is down to a complete lack of civilization and compassion--was touching, as was the importance of certain foods as waypoints in life. It's not every film on revenge where confectionary plays such a very important part.

One last thought, brought on by David's well deserved rant on the directing style of Friday Night Lights: it's nice to see a film where the director allows actors to act, and just lets the camera remain static for a minute or so. No million and one cuts, no sliding perspective, no slow mo, no film school tricks: just a camera and director allowing a scene to breathe, and to slowly grow in the viewer's mind. Seeing a film is like going to another place, and it's so nice not to have to take anti-nausea pills on the journey.

Well, at least I can now say I'm one third of the way through the trilogy...

Under The Knife

Cher is totally absorbed in her new DS game, Trauma Centre: Under The Knife. My house is now filled with life support beeps, nurses yelling that 'Vitals are falling!'and Cher swearing when she can't stop yet another embollism. It is to my horror that I have to admit that in the last year, Cher has finished more video games than I have. Let's compare records, shall we?

CHER

--Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow
--The Legend of Zelda: Minish Cap
--Metroid: Zero Mission


ME

--Knights of the Old Republic

Oh, wait, that was last year.

I've been outgeeked by someone who didn't even play console games when I met her.

Fuck.