Sean Twist

Buffy Done Right, Finally.

2012-02-04T17:48:00.000-08:00

Buffy was wrong. Season 8, to me, was an exercise in everyone involved learning what Buffy is and what Buffy isn't. It was lesson of learning that art must be created within boundaries, and not having those doesn't always make for better art, story, or a reason to keep being emotionally connected with the literary characters involved in such art. Season 9 is about doing Buffy right.

Gone are giant versions of Dawn fighting in Tokyo. Now the Buffyverse is more street level, which is to say there is a chance of actually relating to Buffy again. She's broke, she's working a shit job, but she still has to kill vampires because, you know, it's what Slayers do. While everyone else around her gets to be adults, Buffy just has to get by and fulfill her mission.

And just like the golden age when Buffy was on television, now we have a version of Angel back. Angel and Faith provides the same darker tone and slightly more mature story arcs that the old show used to, a counterpoint to the relatively more cheerful (stress 'relatively') events going on in the main title.

It feels like coming home, really. It feels like everything's been stripped down to what it once was. It feels right.

First Time In Amalur

2012-01-22T10:17:00.000-08:00

I checked out the demo last night.

My first impressions: looks a lot like World of Warcraft and Torchlight. It doesn't bring anything brand spanking new to the fantasy gaming genre, but it does bring the expected tropes shined up nice. The origin story was a variation on the 'Amnesiac With Hidden Powers' we've seen before, but I thought the presentation was interesting. The set up of a bad guy drifted over me, and the infodump--already a hard sell--was made even more incomprehensible by the soundtrack riding over the narration (a problem the developer has already addressed).

While on the matter of sound quality, it did drop out for awhile, and the demo actually froze on me. But I was ready to forgive it that, since it was spinning a lot of plates, and for a rather lengthy demo, it wasn't an issue for me.

But...BUT...Amalur does combat very well. You can switch very quickly from primary weapon to your secondary ( I switched from a greatsword to throwing daggers, alternating the sword with a fireball throwing scepter, the game giving you higher XP if you mix shit up)and movement worked very well, outside of an odd re-set moment when the game would move my character back a few feet while I was attempting an attack.

There is also books and lore, but it seems at this point somewhat less dense than what we see in Skyrim.

So, overall, it's bright, it's colourful, and the combat was fun. I'm not sure if I'd pay sixty dollars for it, but as a thirty five dollar game, it would be something I'd be interested in.

If I ever had thirty five dollars.

Gundam It!

2012-01-15T14:33:00.000-08:00

Hit Level 20 last night with my Infinite Justice Gundam in Dynasty Warriors Gundam 2. Oddly, Reuters didn't call.

Man Versus Nature Versus Pokemon.

2012-01-14T16:21:00.000-08:00

Once again, the question of Man's imposition of will over Nature is addressed in the latest philosophical offering in the Pokemon film series, Pokemon Black: Victini And Zekrom..

Setting aside the core question of the series--that being the rather gentle case of animal enslavement that itself was pondered in the most recent video game--the film takes a harsh look at the corrosive power of nostalgia and delusional race memories of ancient civilizations.

Here, the eternal power of nature is symbolized by the legendary Pokemon Victini. (Special Attack: Zen Headbutt) In the Unova area of the world, the movie details a utopian kingdom made possible by harnessing the power of the aforementioned Victini. Yet the cost to the small, affable creature with an affinity for sweets was eternal enslavement in the geographic region in which this utopia existed--long after the civilization itself had collapsed and disappeared. Now, a descendant of that civilization wants to bring back what was lost--by once again harnessing the power of the trapped Victini, this time against its will.

The protagonist of the Pokemon series, Ash, once again plays the Common Man whose interests in the world do not move beyond his own solitary achievements and a spotty devotion to his electric rat, Pikachu. Upon discovering the lonely Victini, his first reaction is joy at how powerful he is, which leads to his manhandling of the fragile, frightened creature. A better illustration of the cruelty of Man Over Nature has never been witnessed in the history of film.

Yet by the movie's end, when Victini is near death and the dreams of utopia have become disastrous to all involved, Ash finally shows his true compassion for his Pokemon friends as he nearly dies in the upper atmosphere of the Earth in a floating castle. (Utopia seen as reaching for the stars, which can lead to death from the cold vacuum of space. Brilliant.)Again, the Common Man element of his character shines through: the problems that are about to kill him are beyond his comprehension, but all he knows is that he has to fight. Which means grimacing, apparently.

The film ends gently, with a nod towards Ash's compassion and the knowledge that no one has truly learned their lesson. Pokemon are still in balls, battling for the glory of their human masters. Which is a bleak ending, but Pokemon has never been afraid to dish out the hard truths. Which is why it's so awesome and I love it.

The Elvish-Gondor Connection REVEALED

2012-01-02T16:04:00.001-08:00

Just noticed this last night.

Here is an Elven Helmet from Skyrim.

Here is a Gondor infantry helmet from The Lord of The Rings.

Interesting. The Elvish-Gondorian connection is one Tolkien probably meant to address, one day.

What, Another New Year?

2012-01-01T01:08:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry.

I can't provide you with tales of drunken excess. My New Year's Eve involved me replaying a quest in Skyrim several times to achieve the goal of a)Lydia not dying and b)some douchebag not manipulating me into being a morally greasy douche myself. This took several attempts. A Scroll Of Blizzard being unleashed into aforementioned douchebag's face proved the tipping point.

Afterwards, I did drink two glasses of wine and read more of Ready Player One. So, yay. Drunken geek.

It's Like A Gate Shutting On A Roller Coaster Feeling

2011-12-27T16:12:00.000-08:00

Guess what I'll be doing for awhile?

Persona 3 Update

2011-12-25T15:52:00.001-08:00

Time Played: 14 hours 10 minutes.

Emotional State: Slightly trepidatious.

Just a general update on my progress through Persona 3 here, and a reflection on JRPGs in general.

I'm not playing the game with a walkthrough, so I have that unease every time I make a decision, wondering what effect that will have on the intricate mathematics of the game and how exactly it will rise up and bite me in the ass later on. I considered downloading one, but while that would relieve the tension this game creates, I wouldn't be playing the game as much as I would be following a set of instructions. I did this before with a Phoenix Wright game that was giving me trouble, and while it unlocked the story, I didn't have any feeling of achievement. So nuts to that.

Which brings up the question of whether a time-pressed middle aged North American can ever hope to fully succeed in a JRPG without a walkthrough. And the answer is 'Let's hope so'. I know that many JRPGs are meant to be replayed endlessly to find every little bit of gear and explored probability, but I don't have that. So this fumbling playthrough will have to do.

So here's the story: you play as a student in a high school in a town where every night at midnight most people turn into a coffin. There is a threat to the town that can only be met by a group of plucky fighters who don't turn into coffins and who can enter a tower called Tartarus each night to battle the monsters there. This is connected to a disease striking the city outside of the temporal Coffinitis called the 'Apathy Syndrome'. This disease makes sufferers wander around going 'Aahh...uhh...ahhh' and generally not much else.

Of course, you are one of these plucky fighters, even though you're new to this town. Due to some lucky planning, the high school has put you in a dorm with the other fighters against the dark. So you have to go to school during the day (six days a week, since the Japanese apparently hate the idea of a two day weekend)and fight at night. You fight with weapons and with something called a Persona, which is a monster that you summon from inside your soul. These Personas have varying spells which you use against the Shadows, analyzing each monster to determine what spell is most effective. You can also fuse these Personas to make even stronger ones in an alternate dimensional place called the Velvet Room, where an old man glares at you from his chair while his beautiful assistant helps you out and asks you take her on dates and fetch her items from the outside world.

To help level your Personas, you have to create Social Links with others. This means you have to take an after school job, join after school clubs (like Kendo, Student Council), with each one adding points to various attributes. You can also level up aspects by eating food, drinking beverages, or studying.

So far my team consists of Yukari, a girl who wears a neck choker and likes to shoot arrows; Junpei, a baseball cap wearing dude who isn't all that smart but wields a huge sword when he isn't scoping on the ladies; Akihiko, an oddly grey haired guy who has no sense of humour and relies on brass knuckles to punch evil, and Mitsuru, a red haired vixen who runs support on our missions and keeps telling me that I should be studying more.

I've made it to the second level of Tartarus, and have so far only died once. My character is now dating a very clingy girl called Yoku, who manages the kendo team. I messed up with her on a date by not giving her a gift, and our relationship is now, according to a pop up screen, 'in a rut.'

I'm worrying that I haven't leveled up enough to power my Personas, but that's part of the game. I fell into a pattern of just going home after school and studying, forgetting about my job at a coffee house and health food store. I've neglected playing the MMO in the game, instead focusing on attending kendo practices and paying what may be rather fruitless attention to Yoku, who would stalk me outside my class when the last bell rang.

The game can eat the hours, I'll give it that. But I just know I'm doing something wrong. Maybe even twenty things. We shall see.

I Know. Be Quiet and Put Up Some Damn Lights, Why Don't I?

2011-12-17T09:12:00.001-08:00

Not that you asked, but what I hate most about the Christmas season is the rushed mindlessness of it all. The enforced belief that everyone must be happy, that everyone must bankrupt themselves to buy fripperies for other people as a testament of love, that now one must smile and embrace the myth of universal goodwill or be branded with that most horrible of epithets: grumpy

I suppose I'm at the age where I can raise my cane and shout that the true meaning of Christmas has been forgotten, that commercialism runs rampant. But I think that commercialism is the true meaning of Christmas, and has been for a very long time. It isn't about caring for one another--it's about showing how each of us can out-do the other. I find it amusing that a celebration of Christ's birthday--a man who preached tolerance, hung out with people of all classes, and flipped the tables of businessmen when he found them on the temple grounds--has become the focal religious point for many people who sneer at anyone different from them and who judge others solely on how much money they earn. It's irony on a level that would not be possible without the smoke of book burnings and the spittle of righteous indignation.

Go back to the pagan roots of this celebration, and the real reason people like to get drunk and hang out with each other was to take their minds off the dark. Off the cold. And to that end, I love that aspect of it. But the dark isn't just seasonal, and we should be doing our best to help others feel less alone. All the time. Not just when the malls are playing songs sung by dead men about times that never were.

Geek Update

2011-12-13T15:50:00.000-08:00

Look, let's be straight: there is nothing wrong with Arkham City. It looks to be a wonderful game, and the two hours I've spent in it I have reveled in the brimming waves of comic nerdery and dream actualization of being Batman. But the problem is with me, not it: for whatever reason, my head is not in Gotham right now. My muscle memory of the game is still there from when I finished Arkham Aslyum, my hands twitching almost by themselves as I swoop down and boot some poor sap upside the head. The combos all drifted down from whatever pile of neurons they have been residing in, with the end result being that City doesn't feel new to me, but an extension of something I already know and love.

Which isn't what I need right now.

So I've put it aside in order to finish Persona 3.

For the first time since I bought a PSP, I played it without aid of headphones. The sound quality from that elongated game tricorder was like discovering the aural equivalent of Eldorado. Pity I spent most of last night simply having my character enter a bathroom and use the facilities, the technological wonder crafted by those far off Sony wizards sending a pitch perfect sound of a flushing toilet through my living room. Not once, but several times.

On the reading front, I'm currently enjoying Bakuman.

It's by the same team that created the can't be recommended enough Death Note: Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. This manga is about two young manga artists trying to break into the business. It's a very honest look at creativity mixed with a deep love of comic books, and at those people who live and breathe the artform. My friends and I can relate.

I'm also still making my way through Grave Peril, Book Three of The Dresden Files. If you're a fan of Marvel horror comics from the Seventies mixed with smart assery, then you should probably be reading this. This time Dresden is up against rampaging ghosts, which is only the beginning. Butcher is a modern day pulp writer, with far more talent and plotting ability than most of those who worked the field back in the early twentieth century. I like Dresden, and miss him when I'm not reading about him.

As for my own feeble attempts at art, I'm making headway on a new short story. It's completely different from anything I have ever written before. There is no magic, no monsters, no science fiction, and no rampaging monsters birthed through the embryo of radiation and bent on humanity's destruction. So that's been an interesting journey.

And what geekery are YOU up to?

So...

2011-12-08T17:16:00.000-08:00

... Shigeru Miyamoto announces that's he's stepping down from his current position at Nintendo, and then their stock drops two percent? http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

You'd think the guy inspires loyalty and love or something, huh?

Is There A Problem?

2011-12-05T16:35:00.001-08:00

I can't see why anyone would find Persona 3 to be a bit...troublesome.

Oh, that. Huh. Yes. That was a bit of a shocker. This, apparently, is how you invoke your Persona. I cannot possibly see how this would be misinterpreted.

That aside, I've three hours into this game and I can report from my middling progress through its electronic corridors that Persona 3 is a JRPG's fan joy, a veritable skip and dance through the waving fronds of an otaku garden. There is a seamlessness to the game that seemed a bit odd to me, since Persona 4 doesn't entirely share the computational swagger of this PSP port. Then it dawned on my dwindling monkey brain that this version of the game came out *after* Persona 4. All then made sense.

It is still jarring to hear so much voice work in a PSP game when this much didn't exist in the PS2 version of 4.

The story here shares the same structure as Persona 4, making you have a relatively normal life until you enter the wacked out world of Tartarus at midnight to fight demons. It provides the same nail chewing problem of forging Social Links while delivering another long, anime grind towards the upper echelons of level ceilings. And it has a funky soundtrack that, taken a song at a time, I shouldn't like, but as it flows behind the game, I can't help but suddenly wish I could hear it all the time.

Some Things Are Just WRONG

2011-11-27T10:17:00.001-08:00

Blasphemy!

The Bitterest Pill

2011-11-18T12:26:00.001-08:00

I thought Bitter Seeds was going to be a far different book than it was. When you tell me a book is about German superheroes fighting English magicians, certain expectations arise. Expectations flavoured by fond memories of the JSA that probably never was, for instance. But when author Ian Tregillis delivers what is essentially a searing horror novel, well, consider me caught flatfooted.Which isn't to say it isn't wonderful, because it is.But fuck!It's like picking up a book that says it's about fuzzy bunnies and their crazy misadventures, only to have them feeding each other into a wood chipper by page three. It's that kind of bitchslap. But then, this year has been like that. I've read the most horrifying books this year, most of them without realizing how bad things would get until I was too far in to throw the book out onto the lawn and go weep uncontrollably in a corner. I'm almost terrified to see what book I get caught flat footed with a drop in AC next.

2011-11-15T16:54:00.001-08:00

Super Heroines On A Sunday

2011-11-13T15:47:00.001-08:00

Oh, before I begin: Skyrim and I made up. Right. I read some comics. This led me to thinking about how to review them. Frankly, who reads comic reviews? And with so many comics simply being chapters in a longer story, how can one review of a single issue actually do the entire story justice? So I've decided to just give my impressions of books I've read, then say whether or not you should pick it up. Or steal it. Which I don't condone, but I'm tired of arguing this point. If someone makes something, you should pay for it if you want to continue to enjoy it. There. End of rant. So, here's what I've read this weekend.Batwoman #3 'Hyrdrology Part 3'What's Going On? Batwoman is still investigating the ghost in the river who drowns kids. The DEO is still investigating Batwoman. And cracks begin to appear in Katy Kane's life.Do I Have To Read Every Bloody Batman Book To Understand This? No. What I like most about this title is that it seems to exist in its own dark corner of the Batman-verse. Kate fights crime at night, hangs out in clubs, and tries to manage a love life. It's far more supernatural than any other Bat-book, which helps to give it it's own identity. Is The Art Any Good? This is the most beautiful book I collect. Every page should be framed and hung on a wall. If I had the money, I would do just that.Is It Worth Picking Up? Yes. The entire series so far has been excellent. Even Flamebird's costume is gorgeous. Birds of Prey #2 'Trouble In Mind'What's Going On? The rebooted Black Canary continues to put together the new BoP team, including Katana and a surprise member that players of Arkham Asylum will recognize.Wasn't Katana in The Outsiders Yes, and she was kinda boring there. Here, she's a little crazy. She talks to her sword, believing the soul of her husband resides there after being killed by yakuza. And in the rather tired tradition of any superhero who isn't American, Katana has to have her country's flag incorporated into her costume: this time the red sun is part of her mask. Sigh.I See Gale Simone Isn't Writing This. Who is? Duane Swierczynski. I've liked his noir novels in the past (The Wheelman and Severance Package are favourites)and he does a decent job here of creating a mystery and making me care about the characters. It's definitely not Simone, but it has it's own vibe that I like. Is It Worth Picking Up? If you liked Birds of Prey in the past, you'll enjoy this. But if you've never heard of them, I'm not sure that the characters will draw you in enough to win you over. I love Black Canary, since she reminds me of my childhood when I always associated her with Black Cherry pop from the Pop Shoppe. No, really.Wonder Woman #2 'Home'What's Going On? Hera's pissed at Zeus' randiness. Diana brings a man to Paradise Island. This has consequences.Oh, Really? Another Wonder Woman Reboot? Hey, I was dubious, too. But under Brian Azzarello, this one may actually work. There are echoes here of Neil Gaiman's Sandman series and Kieron Gillen's Journey Into Mystery in a shared approach to mythology. Diana doesn't come across as Miss Captain Whitebread, and her warrior aspect is addressed without being overplayed. And the rather enforced purity that seems to follow Wonder Woman

I Bought Skyrim, And Ended Up Playing Rage Instead

2011-11-12T18:58:00.001-08:00

So, I bought Skyrim.It arrives. I get excited. I put it into my PS3. It starts.For twenty glorious minutes, I played the game I've waited months to get my hands on. I get excited thinking about my new character, about the adventures I'm going to have.Then the game crashes.I re-start. I go through the same opening scenes again. Then the game crashes.I re-start. This time the game freezes, and I have to hard turn off my PS3.I re-start. The game crashes again.I re-start. Crash.I quit for the night, in a bit of a rage. I'm told by people online that I should expect this. It's a Bethesda game. They tend to crash. Sadly, I don't expect this. I paid sixty dollars for a product that should work. Perhaps sixty dollars isn't a lot of money to some people, but it's a lot of money to me. And when I pay for something, I don't know, call me old-fashioned, I expect to get the service I've paid for. If I buy a book, I expect it to be in English, and not have bits of leaf sewn into the binding, or have it combust when I open the cover. If I buy toothpaste, I don't expect motor oil to come out of the tube. I don't buy a DVD, then be told that if I actually want to watch it, I have to take apart my DVD player and rewire it for it to work.This is what is legally known as bullshit.So yes. I will try to play this game again. If it continues to crash, I will expect my money back. I know, crazy, right?

With Friends Like These...Star Ocean: The Last Hope

2011-11-09T16:46:00.000-08:00

So it's like this.Skyrim comes out in two days. I have it pre-ordered, and am getting a little antsy. I had thought I'd be finished with Yakuza 4 by now, but at 28 hours in and only 15% done, well, unless I can somehow elongate time, it ain't happenin'. So to quell my gaming addiction, I've been going back and completing decks in Magic: The Gathering: Duel of The Planeswalkers. I can just jump in, scratch the itch, and jump out.So that's when J.D. Goodness loans me Star Ocean: The Last Hope.I simply can't have a game unopened in my house. I have to take a look at it. I have to see what wonders it doth hold.So I put it in, and to my jaundiced eye, it looked terrible. Another bunch of androgynous tweens running around, some terrible voice work, and an OHMYGOD overarching story with cosmic stuff thrown in. Bah, I said. It looked like someone tried to make a video game out of Thunderbirds without paying Gerry Anderson's estate royalty fees.But then JD points out it got good reviews.From who? I wondered. And what parents' basement did they email them from?JD tells me. And these are names I recognize. Justin Haywald, for one. So....damn it all.Skyrim comes out in two days, and I HAVE to go back and look at this game. I have no choice. I cannot lie on my deathbed and think, "If only I'd played Star Ocean, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't feel this desolate."

Magazines Are The Way To My Blackened Heart

2011-11-08T16:50:00.000-08:00

My wife made my Tuesday by picking up an issue of Games TM for me, my favourite gaming magazine. Give me a magazine about anything and I'll be happy for hours. But when I get this one, I positively float. It's been documented. Somewhere, there is video.I like to get my magazines at the News Depot here in London. It's a rare and dying beast of a story, a lonely unicorn of business. If you're ever in London, and you like words on a page, make a point of visiting. In this current climate of downloads and online magazines, I'm not sure how much longer it will be around.Perhaps in an attempt to get people to actually buy a magazine, this issue of Games TM took an approach I hadn't seen before. It was encased in cardboard. I've seen the plastic bag approach, but never an actual box. I wondered about that. Is there a psychological barrier there? While many people don't mind tearing open a plastic bag on a magazine they have no intention of buying, does a bit of cardboard with an art design deter them? Does it deter enough people? Will other magazines adopt this approach? Will magazines one day come with a bio-lock that will only open once it determines you can read and know what a dictionary is? One can hope.

My Monday Dream, Ongoing

2011-11-07T16:27:00.000-08:00

I think if I keep listening to this Crystal Castles album I will magically be transported to a dimension where I'm living in Tokyo and I have amazing stubble and sunglasses I can wear at night that reflect the neon landscape in which I drive and I'll come home to an apartment high in the sky where blue lights will blink on the walls for no reason other than I think that it's cool.

New Mutants and Turtles Oh My

2011-11-06T15:49:00.000-08:00

My epic journey through my Gamera Trilogy Blu-Ray began today with Gamera, Guardian Of The Universe.

I always had a soft spot for this flying nuclear turtle. Back in the Seventies, the Fox Detroit television station used to occasionally run Godzilla week long marathons after school, so I'd run home to catch them. Now and again, they'd throw in a Gamera, and my preconceived notions of the world--namely, that all giant monster movies in the world starred only Godzilla--would be cast aside in a blast of turtle fire.

So thus my interest in these Nineties remakes. 'Gamera, the children's friend!' This film showed the gigantic turtle at his most compassionate best. He held his hand over some stupid people who had the common sense to run onto a rope bridge while a giant flying lizard bird was like ten feet away, absorbing the blast they by rights should have taken. He fought the giant lizard birds to save Tokyo, and everyone was polite enough not to point out that he did so by destroying a fair chunk of it. As I watched, I was adding up how long it would take to rebuild the city, and settled on an optimistic ten years. So, Gamera can fly through space, figure out how to utilize the burning heat of re-entry to his advantage, but can't figure out to maybe draw the monsters out to, say, Mount Fuji or the ocean to fight?

Maybe it's a turtle thing.

Read some comics today as well.

New Mutants 23 addressed the question that's been on my mind most of the week: just which way would the New Mutants jump in this whole new 'Choose Your Side' chapter of the X-Men's lives? Would they go with stick up his ass Cyclops and his view on protecting mutants as a species, or would they pull up sticks and go live with Wolverine and his team in the Beast-tech altered new school in Westchester, New York?

Since this was written by Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning, I should have expected the answer they provided. I mean, really, Twist.

Also read Wolverine: The Best There Is #10. Beautiful art by Juan Jose Ryp, very Geoff Darrow-like. (Which makes me wonder how this book can be monthly.) Charlie Huston writes a fucked up version of Marvel Team Up that made Wolverine teaming with a staple of the Marvel Cosmic stories, Monark Starstalker, make sense and actually flow. And it was fun, which is what I demand of all superhero comics these days.

Oh, and I re-read Rachel Rising #3, because it's just that good.

Going to go try Minecraft now. I'm sure this will go seamlessly.

Groovy

2011-09-14T16:38:00.001-07:00

This film isn't bad.

Yes, I know. Effusive praise doth spring from my lips. But as I approach the the final years of my dotage, I find that I increasingly am losing patience with superhero movies.

Which is odd, since I adore superheroes. But gone are the days when I thought a movie based on a favourite caped avenger would somehow justify them, that mass acceptance of just how cool I'd known Wolverine to be for years being something that would quiet some quivering part of my geek soul. Now, I tend to dread the news of a new cinematic adaptation of a treasured comic hero, laying awake at night shivering beneath my Batman Animated Series blankets at what form the Hollywood Fuck Up Hammer would take.

And when I heard that after the Brett Ratner shitpile that mumbled its title to the world as X-Men: The Last Stand, ( a title I had hoped was also a promise) there was to be yet another kick at the mutated gene can, I fell in a swoon. "Enough!" I cried to the uncaring sky. "Let it end! Let me just re-read Days of Future Past for my X-Men fix!"

So imagine my shock when I robotically put my down my last remaining dollars for the Blu-Ray of this film (Hey! It's X-Men! I gots to buy it!)only to discover that I enjoyed it. Enjoyed it a lot. Like, a lot of a lot.

What First Class gets right is that it's actually written by writers. It focuses more on character than special effects. The duality of the two main characters of Xavier and Magneto are juxtaposed in nigh perfect balance. As a result, we get to know them through their words and actions, and not by how they can bend metal or read minds. We like them.

The Sixites milieu is also well received by the world's toughest critic, since it provides both a sense of freshness and fun. From Xavier's blessedly minimal use of the word 'groovy' to the Bondian set designs, it sets the film apart from the usual present day urban environment. It draws the eye, and adds to the magic. In short, it was a brilliant idea.

As was casting James McAvoy as Xavier and Michael Fassbender as Magneto. The two actors anchor the film. Regrettably, this genius did not extend to the rest of the X-Men team, but since we barely get to know who they are, we tend to forget them soon after the film ends.

And yes, about that. The choices for the X-Men here are odd. Instead of rebooting the franchise entirely and going with the original team of Iceman, Angel, Beast, Marvel Girl and Cyclops, the First Class writers decided to pull from both later incarnations of the team, plucking even up to the present day. So we have Havok (Scott Summer's apparently now older brother, in jail for some unexplained reason); a stripper who looks to be based on Pixie but is for some reason called Angel (BUT SHE HAS BUG WINGS NOT BIRD WINGS SHE'S CLEARLY PIXIE ARGH!); Banshee (now American and a teenager); Beast (yay!), Mystique (?) and Darwin. Darwin--a mutant whose ability is to adapt to any threat immediately-- is clearly the oddest choice, since even today writers have no clear idea what the hell to do with him. And it seems the screenwriters ran into the same problem.

But then we hit January Jones as Emma Frost. Oh my. She is, to be quite concise, not very good. Which is a shame, since she seems to have been cast simply because some men would find her attractive in lingerie and she was a Big Name. But as someone who still doesn't trust Frost, who is still waiting for her to go all evil again and betray the X-Men even after more than ten years as a genuine hero so I can yell SEE I TOLD YOU BUT YOU WOULDN'T LISTEN I think her character here deserves a more nuanced actress and a more challenged script. Frost is a fairly deep and interesting character who seems destined to be seen as nothing more than eye candy in the eyes of most writers and artists. That view is not challenged here.

Jennifer Lawrence, though, balances the Jones choice out quite nicely. While part of my nerd brain is still seizing at the idea that Xavier and Mystique grew up together, Lawrence makes the future X-Men villain something more than the pin up Rebecca Romjin provided. It would have been nice to have more of her in the film, since she sadly becomes a secondary character when it feels she should have the same narrative weight that Xavier and Magneto have. The film would have benefited from it, but again, for some reason, the writers didn't pursue it.

Yet despite those small missteps, First Class is an enjoyable film up until the apparently unavoidable Third Act Giant Battle That Will Reveal Hidden Depths of Character And/ Or Kill Someone And Make You Cry. Despite attempts to change up the cliche (having a FX heavy fight in daylight, for example), this is where the film chugs to a creative stop. For me , these battles are always an endurance test, since I much more enjoy the early scenes of heroes battling muggers, stopping runaway subway cars or rescuing cats from trees. But by this point, all the fun has left most superhero films to be replaced by manufactured drama. And First Class doesn't escape that trap.

But that doesn't negate how much fun the ride is up to that point. X-Men: First Class is a superhero movie where the special effects take a back seat to the writing and acting, and maybe that's why I loved it so much. It's a mutant film in a churning sea of rote screenplays and hit beats, doing the unexpected with the DNA of a summer blockbuster.

The Doctor Is A Bastard Sometimes. No, Really.

2011-09-12T16:48:00.001-07:00

Watching the new Doctor Who series, I have often leapt from my divan and shouted "That is so taken from the New Adventures/BBC Eighth Doctor novels" because, well, many things in the new series often are.

But with last week's episode, The Girl Who Waited, the new series borrowed something from the novels I thought they never would: the idea that the Doctor can be a cowardly bastard.

(Spoiler alert: if you haven't seen The Girl Who Waited, maybe you should head over to Reddit or go see if your neighbour has made off with your Smurf garden tools. Off you go.)

Okay. The jist of the episode is that the Doctor screws up while heading off to visit yet another strange and exciting place and his companion Amy ends up being stranded there alone for decades. When the Doctor finally manages to find her, she's in her sixties, hardened by the experience of trying to survive, and now very much hates the Doctor for abandoning her.

This echoes very clearly events in the BBC Eighth Doctor line. (Again, spoilers if you haven't read books that came out over ten years ago.) There, the Doctor had a companion called Fitz Kreiner. Fitz was a generally nice guy from the Sixties who'se only defining characteristics was that he was a)nice and b)was a hit with the ladies. It became clear that the Doctor and Fitz were fairly good friends, and he accompanied the Doctor on several adventures. Until, of course, things went bad.

Fitz ended up being put into stasis and woken up far in the future by a time cult called Faction Paradox. At this point, Fitz was awaiting rescue from the Doctor. This never comes. Fitz is transformed into a monster, and ends up seeking revenge against the Doctor, until he is killed horrifically, his hatred of his once friend and long hoped for saviour still burning bright.

So why didn't the Doctor rescue him? It has been noted that of all the Doctors, the Eighth was the most flawed. He simply wasn't that good at vital things essential to a good Doctor: like getting out of traps or thinking things through. Unlike the manipulative Seventh, the Eighth tried very hard to be cheerful and aimed for certainty in his decisions,but clearly was very often operating AUs out of his depth. Yes, that makes him interesting, but he isn't the Doctor you probably want to be traveling with. Things often didn't go well.

So what does the Eighth Doctor do about Fitz? He manages to find a bio-form infused with Fitz's memories, and that becomes the Fitz that continues to travel with him. A copy. The Doctor feels guilt over the real Fitz's death, but not enough to go back in time to rescue him. Instead, he just makes do with the Xeroxed version.

And so at the end of The Girl Who Waited, we see the Eleventh Doctor face to face with another failure: he messed up rescuing Amy. Because of his refusal to research where the TARDIS lands and his inability to figure out how to save his best friend, she endures a lifetime of loneliness and fear. This happened. He does manage to find an earlier version of her (which he quickly calls 'our' Amy), ignoring that the old, bitter and fucking furious Amy is just as much Amy as that version.

At the story's end, the Doctor says both of the Amys cannot be in the TARDIS at the same time, fluffing around the issue with some paradox buffer wish wash. Which is a lie. In the seven minute Christmas special of the past year, two different versions of Amy exist in the TARDIS and even flirt with each other. But what's important here is that neither of those Amys would remind the Doctor of his failure.

In the end, the Doctor browbeats Amy's husband Rory to decide whether or not to allow the Amy That Suffered into the TARDIS, and Amy being Amy, she takes the route of self sacrifice. As the Amy That Just Got Lost wakes up in the TARDIS, the Doctor makes a funny face at her, like all this has just been another merry lark. But before the show ends, the Doctor turns and gives Amy an ominous, troubled look.

He knows he messed up. He knows he hurt her. But because that pain didn't happen to the Amy in the TARDIS, he just continues on. And for the first time with the Eleventh Doctor, we see a side of him that isn't all that noble, that isn't all that endearing. In fact, we want to smack him hard across the face.

A great episode. But where the Eighth Doctor can be slightly excused for being a bit of a fuck up (and we won't get into how he time engineered the perfect companion for himself from a heroin addict here--move along, move along, no dreams to shatter here), the Eleventh has been seen to be among the most clever of the Doctors so far. But pushed far enough, the Doctor will shield himself from pain and failure, and in the process darken himself in ways that cannot be erased.

If you stare into the abyss knowing it also stares into you, imagine how deep that stare would be over Time. From the haunted look in the Doctor's eyes at the end of The Girl Who Waited, he knows how deep that goes.

I Should Be Working

2011-08-28T12:56:00.001-07:00

Realized I've been working on the same alleged short story for nearly a year now. I'm on the second draft, having made some serious plot revisions for pacing and tension. The story has led meto listen to a fair amount of electronic music, so much so that it seems outside of the Beatles, it's the only music that I'm listening to of late. Gary Numan, Daft Punk, Ladytron, Orbital. So when I'm listening to that, I like to lie to myself and say I'm actually working.

Followed a line of blood for an entire block yesterday on King Street. I didn't know they did surgery on Friday nights down there.

Caught up on New Mutants last night. Do I have to praise Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning again? Any book they write I try to pick up because they just do damn good comics. And this was no exception. And if you haven't read one of Abnett's Warhammer novels, then shame.

Spinning Crap Into Gold: The Alchemy of Rick Remender

2011-08-13T16:42:00.001-07:00

The North American comics industry is like a burning building on an ice floe surrounded by cyber sharks who are wondering what sort of condiment to use on their upcoming meal.

Inside, editors race around with glorious ideas on how to put out the flames, while too many creators run around behind them, applauding each idea in quick succession as smoke billows across the ceiling.(Let's kill off our top character!'Sounds great, boss! No, scratch that! Let's reboot all the books! That'll put out the fire for sure! Oh for sure, boss!) And still the flames climb. Still the ice melts. And still the sharks chomp their adamantium teeth.

Yet sitting alone, away from the high fiving crowd, sit a few creators, scribbling on notepads. Creators who have figured out how--if not to put out the fires--have a strong opinion on getting past the sharks to dry land.

Rick Remender is one of those creators.

First, let me be clear: I hate Venom.

For me, Venom is a symptom of what first went wrong with comics. Arising from the black Spider-Man costume from 1984's Secret Wars--one of the first ideas I can remember where fan sensibilities were shocked when Marvel announced that the classic red and blue Spidey costume was gone, and this new black and white costume would be it from now on--Venom was an attempt to cash in on the 'dark' phase of North American comics. Here was a villain that killed people, which was almost a job requirement for bad guys post-Dark Knight Returns, and he tied into black and white costume. Perfect!

I suppose it's a generational thing, since many people adore Venom. I grew up reading about the Green Goblin and the Hobgoblin, which had a level of psychological tension in their makeup and stories that seemed a tad lacking in stories where Venom munched people with a tongue that would make Gene Simmons blink. As a result, I began to associate Venom with the sort of fans who made the comics glut possible.

In short, I hated him.

So I was reluctant to pick up this new series, even though I enjoy Remender's work, especially on the wonderful Uncanny X-Force. But I got past my tish toshing dislike of the character because he did something almost unheard of in North American comics these days: he did something interesting.

With this new series, Venom is the suit that government agent Flash Thompson wears to undertake black ops missions. The underlying tension in the narrative arises because there is a time limit on how long Thompson can wear the suit before it bonds permanently with him. He also has to contend with the symbiote's own agenda, which includes a pathological hatred of Spider-Man and a fear of sonics, which can lead to Thompson just being along for the ride once the suit takes off in fear or in a need for revenge. If that wasn't enough, Thompson wonders what will happen if he does bond to the suit, and being shot by his superiors seems a certainty.

And Thompson also lost his legs in the Iraq War. If he removes the suit in a hot zone (since the suit provides him with a simulcrum of legs) to save his sanity, he may soon after lose his life.

And there's the magic. Remender has taken a fresh look at a tired idea, and crafted something new with it. Something that has a tension built into its narrative base that makes you look forward to the next issue. Something that makes you forget the less than stellar history of the alleged titular character. Something that makes you want to head down to the comics store on Wednesday so you don't miss an issue.

That's the path comics should take. But no. Heroes will continue to die, only to be reborn. Continuity will be used to sell comics, then ignored when market shares drop. And the fires will rise, just as the cyber sharks discover they have lasers in their eyes, and can target the ice floe with ease.

The Death Shudders of American Comics

2011-07-25T12:30:00.001-07:00

If any industry hates their repeat customers moreso than the American comics industry, then I'm at a loss to think of them.

With the upcoming DC Comics reboot of their entire line, I've been forced to listen to people both online and in comic book stores exhult about what a great thing this is, how it's a great start for new readers, and if anyone even questions the importance of continuity, then there is obviously something mentally wrong with that sad, sorry individual.

Oh, continuity. Once the selling point of American comics, used to push readers to come back next month to pick up the next issue of Amazing Spider-Man, and to assure them that events in their books carried weight and would be remembered for years, it has now been relegated to an indicator of where a reader lives: i.e. their mom's basement.

The disgust comics publishers have for anyone who brings up the question of continuity is a clear indication of why the industry is dying. Continuity in comic book narrative is something both Marvel and DC Comics provided. To suddenly berate your customer base for still wanting it is like a car dealer rolling his eyes if someone wants to buy a car with tires. Yeah, maybe tires were important once upon a time, but you seriously still want them? You still want the same experience we used to offer? And now you refuse to buy our product? Well, clearly you're an immature mama's boy, and to hell with you.

In fact, when you look at any of the Big Events both Marvel and DC have offered up over the last few years, their core elements have been not something fans would enjoy, but something that would upset them--that is, the 'death' of favourite characters. Again, what an odd business model. You want your customers to come back each week, so you threaten to take away an integral part of the service you provide: a popular character.

Heaven forbid you offer them well crafted stories that excite them and make them count the days until the next issue. No, you ask them to buy funeral issues. Because the deaths of main characters are important in continuity. But then you tell them if they care about that, then there's something wrong with them.

Of course, this is because comic companies aren't out to satisfy the people who show up with the money in their hands each Wednesday. In their minds, they already have them. It's the fabled New Reader that they want, this elusive creature with tons of disposable income who isn't reading comics because there's just too much to learn about these characters to actually enjoy reading about them now. It's like, too hard and stuff. So why not just start again? That'll win them over, right?

But these elven saviours of the industry don't exist. If anyone under the age of thirty is interested in reading comics, most will just steal them from a torrent. The concept of buying comics is anathema to them, since they've grown up ripping movies off the Net since they were teens. Why would they pay for something they can get with a few keystrokes? And to show up at the same geographical place each week and then put money down? Yeah, right, whatevs.

And so it continues. The loyal fanbase is derided for being so, while the current business model is aimed at something that does not exist. And so the American comics industry waves one final, dinosaur head towards its imminent extinction, it's own tail wrapped around it's throat pushing it halfway towards the dark already.

Pure Genius: Hard Revenge Milly

2011-07-05T16:37:00.000-07:00

It's 44 minutes of pure genius. This is a revelation to creators to simply create. If you don't have the money to make a full film, make a short one. If you really want to make a heroine that has a shotgun for a leg and a sword built into her arm, then do it. Don't worry that someone will point out how cheap the sets are. Don't worry about how maybe not everything makes sense. Just create the joy that you want, and someone will find it. And maybe they'll find the same things you find joyful, well, fucking awesome and write a blog post about it.

So, yes. This was genius. You should see it.

You Can Keep Her: My Review of 'Taken'

2011-07-01T13:18:00.000-07:00

Okay, so Liam Neeson is great at throat punching. If I ever wanted to recommend a film about throat punching, Taken would be top of my list. I may write it down and keep it in my wallet just in case someone comes running out of a burning building and asks me "GOOD GOD MAN, MY APARTMENT IS ABLAZE I'VE LOST EVERYTHING DO YOU KNOW ANY GOOD FILMS ON THROAT PUNCHING IT MAY HELP ME FORGET MY LOSS."

I'll be ready.

As for the film, it's so formulaic I thought I should get a chemistry credit for watching it. Stupid daughter who loves ponies buggers off to Europe to follow U2 around on tour, and we're supposed to care that she gets kidnapped. I'd say good riddance. She's clearly not worth even sending a birthday card to, let alone throat punching anyone over.

But Liam does, and he rescues her by punching a lot of throats and electrocuting people who don't shave regularly. And because she's like The Three Little Bears porridge, she isn't found until the third last place he looks. And there's more throat punching and windows broken and some big slob takes a bullet and his daughter cries. Because she's missed the U2 concert and like it was going to be rad and stuff.

So they get home to America and the daughter is all back to giggling and skipping even though she's been traumatized and drugged and seen hell of all sorts but like whatever that was so three days ago. And Liam is all about looking craggy and wondering why the fuck he ever did the The Phantom Menace maybe if he didn't he wouldn't be doing films like this.

And Famke Jannsen is wasted as a one note harpy. I hope the paycheque was good, ma'am.

And yet I watched it/ And I enjoyed it. It's no Bourne Identity, but neither was Phantom Menace, so we must be thankful.

Treasure Surprise! Blood The Last Vampire!

2011-06-27T16:50:00.000-07:00

Of course it's absolutely ludicrous.

I didn't know there was a live action film of Blood The Last Vampire. I had seen the anime, and to be honest, didn't think that much of it. So when I saw this available on Rogers, I just clicked on it in order to have some anime wallpaper playing while I worked. (Little Known Fact: Anime calms me down the way Johnny Walker Red calms other people down. There is more imagination in the worst anime that you will find in an entire season of an American television network. Yes, I WENT THERE.)

The film starts. It's in a subway. It's an actual film. I wondered if I'd missed this the first time I saw the anime. Being classy by starting with live action before doing the meld to cartoony. But no anime appeared. People appeared. Gianna Jun appeared. Swords flashed. Blood sprayed. My work for the day fell away, forgotten.

As stated eariler, the film is ludicrous, but wonderfully so. Whereas an American film would spend at least forty five minutes with backstory and attempts to make the audience fall in love with the heroine by showing her making costumes for kittens, helping old ladies across the street or signing a petition to save a local hobo, this film has our heroine possibly killing an innocent bystander. With a sword to the face. So it's kinda difficult to say that maybe, just maybe, this was kinda accidental. So we can either turn off at this point or settle back and gleefully wonder where in hell this is going.

Well, of course, it turns out to be about vampires in a U.S. military base in the Seventies at the height of the Vietnam War. I know, expected, right? And of course our heroine has to put on a schoolgirl outfit and enroll in said school and start killing vampires in the gym. I mean, that goes without saying. And of course there are Men In Black, but they are more like Men In Brown with bad hats and dubious facial hair.

The sense this film doesn't make is soothing. The wire fu--where it seems most of the $30 million spent to make this film went-- is enough to justify my existence. And the ending is the sort of thing that years of reading manga made me expect, but didn't care. Clothes came alive! Villains made speeches! Powers were discovered! Oh YES!

So you can keep your Transformers and your Green Lanterns. I've seen my summer film. And it came out two years ago.

That's All Folks!

2011-06-12T18:02:00.001-07:00

Going dark for a bit. Be good to one another.

Poetry Time

2011-06-09T16:30:00.000-07:00

“you’ve got to burn
straight up and down
and then maybe sidewise
for a while
and have your guts
scrambled by a
bully
and the demonic
ladies,
you’ve got to run
along the edge of
madness
teetering,
you’ve got to starve
like a winter
alleycat,
you’ve go to live
with the imbecility
of at least a dozen
cities,
then maybe
maybe
maybe
you might know
where you are
for a tiny
blinking
moment.”
— Charles Bukowski

Every Shonen Knife Has A Dork That Loves Them

2011-05-23T12:56:00.001-07:00

I've been making my way through my Shonen Knife collection of late. I put them away for a few months at a time, because like the Scott Pilgrim soundtrack, it would be the only thing I would ever listen to ever.

A band that sings about food, riding bicycles, waking up with monstrous fish eyes on your head, and having jellybean fights is really the only music I really need, to be honest.

'Banana Chips' is one of my favourites. It truly is a gem. It's from their album Happy Hour, which I think is one of their best.

Gaming Updates--Becaue You Know You Need To Know

2011-05-19T09:53:00.000-07:00

Because I have nothing else to talk about...

Did some of the multiplayer in Saints Row 2 last night. One of the games was 'Insurance Fraud', where you throw yourself into traffic to get insurance money while the other team tries to shoot you to bring your health down, and thus get less money when you get slammed over a windshield.

*Adore*!

In the main game, I drove around a sewage truck and sprayed human feces on hookers and johns while the woman beside me howled 'I HOPE YOU LIKE SCAT PLAY!'.

At the other end of the gaming spectrum, I've logged 12 hours into Pokemon Black. Today I recruited hip hop break dancers to form a dancing team, and had a philosophical discussion with the Pokemon liberationists.

But my true victory, one of which I hope is mentioned proudly at my funeral, is that I won a race in Need For Speed. Considering my spazzy driving skills, this is surely a sign of the coming apocalypse.

Saints and Personas

2011-05-17T09:34:00.000-07:00

Playing Saints Row 2 lately. I've made my usual female character--a punk rock Japanese woman with two colour variations in her hair and a proclivity for saying the F-word. My goal in the game is to re-establish the Saints as a viable gang in the city of Stillwater, which so far as meant me rescuing an old boss from a courtroom, guns blazing, John Woo style, and recruiting lieutenants. This meant repossessing a car at a funeral, which since I can't drive a tow truck, meant running over several tombstones and mourners. Well, at least they didn't have far to go, right?

In two hours, I've established my crib and have now set out to win the drug trade. It's Grand Theft Auto with better driving and a more ridiculous storyline. Loving it so far.

******

They're making an anime of Persona 4?

Oh man. OH MAN. This was my introduction to the Shin Megami Tensei series, and I'm still bearing the scars. It's a great game about serial killers, magic televisions, empty bears and how sin and shame can turn us into monsters in really cool castles. Recommended.

It's A Beautiful Sunday...

2011-05-08T10:59:00.001-07:00

...so why not make it more beautiful with Supercar?

Cats And Their Mysterious Connection To Bad Art

2011-05-03T12:43:00.001-07:00

Trying to write with cats in the office is not advisable. Trying to think while a cat crawls in your lap, then across your keyboard, then hauls his ass on top of the monitor is not conducive to creating anything outside of a migraine. Now make that three cats.

So needless to say, the Great Work was more of a trial today than usual. But we passed the three-quarters mark. So, yay.

Made some progress in Pokemon Black, a game that I both adore for the sheer bravery of its imagination and for creating some of the most stupid and delightful Pokemon ever. The upgrades to speed and graphics are also welcomed with a giant hug, but the storyline itself continues to make me see hope in the world. A satire on hypocrisy is not something I expected to find in a Pokemon game.

I am now also totally caught up on The Uncanny X-Men. Terry Dodson art and Gillen's words make for a fresh take on a very tired franchise. Also caught up on FF, which isn't so much a comic as it is a nerd soap opera. A term I apply lovingly.

In books without pictures, I'm now reading Sarah Vowell's The Wordy Shipmates. Why I put off reading this wonderful woman is testament to the depth of my self hatred.

And now the cats are taking bolt cutters to the door, so I must go be a responsible pet owner and tell to at least put on safety glasses.

In Which I Rage Against My Own Kind

2011-04-29T11:30:00.000-07:00

I have fallen under the bewitching spell of a backcover blurb by an author whose work I have enjoyed. This led to me purchasing a book by an unknown author, one who has great respeck among those who make up stuff and put it on paper.

I now wish to smack both authors. The writer of the blurb gets a smack because there is no way in hell he could have enjoyed this book because it is deathly dull and seems determined to avoid any form of excitement, as if it was written for people on faulty pacemakers.Perhaps the author was a friend and he thought he'd do the guy a solid. The author gets a smack for writing a book that is not all what it was purported to be, and to be filled with references that only someone as sad as myself would get, but would leave people who actually have lives and achieve things completely baffled. Once upon a time this would make me feel special, but when that's the only thing in a book that is even vaguely interesting, my blood pressure rises.

And even worse, I feel compelled to finish the book so that I can have that momentary feeling of having completed something, and then take the book outside and burn it.

I understand how difficult it is to write. I understand how the Muse sometimes leads you create things that perhaps serve no other purpose than to satisfy the Muse herself. But I also know that when telling a story, YOU TELL A STORY. You don't make the reader feel like they're missing something. That if only they were smarter, if only they had a complete knowledge of every pulp writer in the world, if only they were cool enough to get all the injokes, then they would enjoy this book.

So yes, I'm hating this book. I'm now making myself read a chapter a day just to finish the damn thing. Then I shall consign it to ash. And that's why I started reading Stephen King's UNDER THE DOME, because he at least understands what a writer is supposed to do.

Geek Update

2011-04-12T08:33:00.001-07:00

No big reviews or earth shattering thoughts today. Just a summation of what's been on my dork plate of late.

Finished the first story arc in Dan Abnett's and Andy Lanning's HEROES FOR HIRE series. These guys love the loser B and C-level characters as much as I do, and it shows. I mean, Paladin becoming a main character in a book has to be a joke, right? He's like the Punisher with a thing for purple goggles. I also love the use of Misty Knight, another nod to the Seventies era of Marvel which was their highpoint, in my aged opinion. I didn't find the final issue to be as good as I'd hoped, but I rarely find concluding stories to be all that satisfying anymore. Possibly because in comics, nothing can really ever end, so there is never that feeling of honest conclusion, just a springboard into the next storyline.

Still, a storyline that had the Falcon, Iron Fist, Black Widow, Moon Knight, the Punisher and Paladin? I'll take it.

In stories without pictures, I'm halfway through THE AFGHAN CAMPAIGN by Steven Pressfield. It's a novel about Alexander the Great's invasion of Afghanistan, told from the viewpoint of a young soldier. It reminds me of Steve Erikson's Malazan series, especially with the focus on troop camaraderie and black humour. I've really been enjoying it. It's the second book I've read on the area this year, which isn't intentional, but just how it worked out.

As for games, I haven't been back to Pokemon in a week, but will soon. Played more Lost Odyssey, which I'm enjoying, but sometimes I don't feel like sitting down for a fifty minute cut scene, so I've also put in HALO: ODST, which allows me to just play for a bit then save out. I'd forgotten how much HALO I've played in my life, (finished the first two games), and it was kinda cool to find myself back in that world again. ODST is very Blade Runner-ish, very un-HALO in many ways. I can see why it wasn't as popular, since it dared to try something different. That'll show them.

Broken Fairy Tales

2011-04-03T14:45:00.000-07:00

CINDERELLA: FABLES ARE FOREVER #1

Forgive me. I have read very little Fables. But I know enough of it to have enjoyed this comic, apparently the second mini-series featuring Cinderella. Even though I may not be up to date on everything going on in the main series, I know enough about mythology and fables to get the magic behind these stories, and still have a great time with this issue.

Cinderella: Fables Are Forever is written by a writer I've also just discovered: Chris Roberson. The man understands how to write a turn pager of a comic script, balancing two temporal narrative points fairly well throughout. I like the character of Cinderella, and I especially liked the reveal on who her enemy was in this story. Everything here, from the script to the art by Shawn McManus, is well done and makes for an enjoyable first issue.

I will definitely be back for Issue #2.

DETECTIVE COMICS #875

This issue reminded me quite a bit of Gotham Central, which is what I say when I'm tired of saying I really, really like something.

The story focuses on Jim Gordon's son, who may or may not be a psychotic killer. Writer Scott Snyder keeps the tension high as we see both present day Gordon tracking a suspected killer while remembering a homicide that his son may (or may not) be responsible for. The story feels like a lonely, rainswept street. When Batman appears at the end of the story, it feels like an intrusion on what was nearly a perfect story.

I enjoyed Snyder's first story arc on Detective, The Black Mirror, a compelling tale that was only marred by a finale that broke the story's tone. I'm hoping that this new storyline, Lost Boys,, will not make the same mistake.

Godzilla Returns. Old Geek Gets Teary Eyed

2011-04-02T10:17:00.001-07:00

THE COMIC: Godzilla, Kingdom of Monsters. Published by IDW. Cover by Alex Ross. Squee Level: High

WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I CARE?: Because it's Godzilla. Because the Toho films, both old and new, are awesome fun. And if you don't care, then you're reading the wrong blog.

THE GOOD: As previously stated, Godzilla is back in comics. As the only person on Earth who owns the entire Marvel Comics run of Godzilla, King Of The Monsters from the Seventies (which had such unforgettable storylines as Godzilla being shrunk down to fight rats in the sewers, and the Avengers fighting Godzilla, with the Wasp and Yellowjacket going in his ear and giving him vertigo!), this is like how I thought I'd feel when I heard there was going to be a new Star Wars film.

Proving once again that IDW knows how to do spin off comics correctly, they've hired a decent writer in Eric Powell, and a non-hack artist in Phil Hester.

THE BAD: Like all IDW comics, it's a bit pricey at $3.99. But I have yet to regret paying that price for any IDW comic.

As well, there are a couple two page spreads that, while impressive, are still two page spreads in a comic where I value written story over images. I don't see how you can avoid that in order to show the utter fucking destruction a giant lizard can deliver, but I hope this doesn't happen with every issue.

THE AWESOME: Powell (so far) has broken the Toho rule that small children are never killed by Godzilla. That somehow a 12 story radioactive monster will never stomp on a kid while pushing over skyscrapers and nuclear blasting the Japanese army. But unless Powell pulls a deus ex whatthefuckia in Issue #2, it looks like the introductory poppets were munched.

Here, it's a reset from the Toho series, where no one has ever heard of Godzilla before. Powell caught that feeling of WTF in everyone's eyes, from passerby to government officials. And judging from the inclusion of monster symbols on the inside cover (taken from the DVDs), we are going to see more than just Godzilla here. Like the entirety of the Toho stable. Mechagodzilla, Mothra, King Ghidorah, all may be up for a battle. This is what joy feels like.

As well, there's a great through line to the book, where people, ranging from a nameless Japanese man to President Obama, look upon Godzilla and say, "You have to be fucking kidding me." (With 'fucking' spelled in Non Offensive Script as '%$@#ing'. But I read that Script, so I saw it.)

THE NOT SO AWESOME: Godzilla's eyes. Hester isn't sure whether to give him the blunked out Little Orphan Annie look or the much preferred pissed off black pupil glare. One or t'other, sir.

THE FINAL VERDICT: A decent 8/10. It may be a quicker read than I would like, but there's some meat here and, more importantly, a deep sense of love. This isn't just knocked out to make a buck. These people love their Godzilla as much as I do.

Finally Finished Mass Effect!

2011-02-26T08:57:00.000-08:00

Well, it only took me four years, but I finally finished Mass Effect.

Yes, it's a great game. I cheered at points, I agonized over decisions, and I didn't want it to end. But what I adored the most was that it was made by fellow Canadians who grew up watching the same science fiction that I did, and loved it just as much. I'm not the first to point out that Mass Effect feels like an Eighties science fiction film, from the storyline down to the lighting and set design. Bioware cites films like Blade Runner (which is evident in the Citadel skyline), Wrath Of Khan and Aliens, but I also got a strong Outland feel from the game as well. The synthesizer soundtrack is also tres Eighties, and, not to harp on it overly much, but the set design of some of the planet structures is pure late Seventies/early Eighties architecture. The main building on Noveria, for example, reminded me of the Ontario Science Centre, with poured concrete pillars being used to define space alongside curved concrete walls which we just don't see anymore.

The game even ends with a cheesy emo rock song. Oh, thank you Bioware.

I hadn't intended to go straight to Mass Effect 2, but I felt something die inside me at the thought of not being with Commander Cheryl Sheperd (oh yeah, I went there). So combined with my fear that my XBox is about to give up the cybernetic ghost, I dove straight in last night.

And you know what? It's a very different game. The RPG elements have been stripped waaay down, with the character leveling options being offered related only to combat. There are no Charm/Intimidate skills,for example, which came in so handy in the first game. It feels more like a straight ahead action game, with a heavy Gears of War influence: cover based shooting galore, with the game providing bobbing yellow arrows as to where best to place your team. I found that a little discomfiting, because I liked the strong RPG elements of the first game. Still,early days.

On the plus side, even though I'm not playing on a HD TV (which makes the script a challenge to read), the game still looks fantastic. And the AI of the team members is vastly improved. They actually always shoot at the enemy, instead of facing into walls and screaming at me 'I'm blocked!'. The new Normandy is a beautiful thing, and I spent a fair amount of time last night just exploring it.

I cleared Mass Effect 1 in just under 25 hours, eschewing all the planet surveying and landing on planets to find whatzits from dead aliens. This game promises 80 hours, and is two discs long. XBox willing, I should be able to hang with my beloved Commander for awhile.

Hey! I Read Comic Books!

2011-02-22T17:18:00.000-08:00

Jennifer Blood is like having Garth Ennis come on stage,pick up a guitar and go, "Do any of you remember this?" before blasting everyone with a three chord riff. A riff he used to do oh so well.

Garth has written many great books in his life, but for many people his work on Punisher is the one they are most familiar with. With Jennifer Blood,, he is delivering a Punisher-ette that is just as violent as ever, but made smarter with a bit more satire and self referential humour.

The sell point of this mini series is that Jennifer is a housewife who inhabits a very boring domestic world during the day, but for one week, goes out at night to exact revenge on mobsters. She does this by building an armory in the basement of their house (her dimwitted husband doesn't notice the basement wall is five feet shorter than when they bought the house) and training in secret, writing in her journal about such soccer mom things like why people insist on using 9mm guns when a higher caliber will get the job done faster.

In another nod to Punisher, the first issue is also called 'War Journal'.

It was a fun read. I'm happy it's a mini series, which I think the Punisher should have been back in the Seventies. Ongoing stories about vengeance run out of steam when there's no end in sight.

This has been in my Culture Bag for about two months. I had to wait for my wife to finish work today, and finally got a chance to read it.

It's wonderful. It does what a first issue should do: assumes the reader isn't stupid, introduce characters who are different from each other, lure them into a story that makes the reader think they know what's going on, only to realize things are far worse than they had imagined.

Morning Glories is about a group of kids who have finally got into a special prep school. To say more would give things away, but suffice to say this isn't a story about teenagers going to college. Well, it is, but it isn't. It feels like the sort of story that needs to be a HBO series, only to have people be horrified by what they just watched. You should just go read it.

Best Picture For 2011! I've Seen....ONE!

2011-01-25T17:15:00.000-08:00

So the Oscar nominations descended from On High. Since I've only had time and willpower to look at the Best Picture noms, I thought I'd share my deep cinematic knowledge of films I haven't seen.

THE KING'S SPEECH

This is the sort of movie middle aged women go to see then browbeat everyone else to see it or suffer a look of withering disdain. Apparently it's sad and dramatic, which I can get for free by looking at my savings account. Colin Firth is in it, which does great things for middle aged masturbation fantasies, as is Geoffrey Rush, who has not met a bit of scenery he hasn't left some teethmarks in. In fact, I think if Hollywood were ever inclined to do a film about fisting and bukkake, all they would have to do is star Colin Firth and set it in the 19th century to turn a massive profit.

INCEPTION

I saw this, and liked it. Therefore, it should win. Because I liked it, though, it doesn't stand a chance in hell.

THE FIGHTER

I think this is about Irish people, isn't it? (I'm Irish, so I can say that. You can't.) Since it stars Batman, I'm assuming there's some shouting in between the punching. I'll probably see it, since maybe the Riddler will appear.

BLACK SWAN

It's a ballet film, and it's tense, but apparently Padme is in it and she chooses someone other than Anakin, so maybe Luke and Leia will have a better life this time round.

TRUE GRIT

Is this the Coen Brothers film that makes money so they can make more interesting films?

WINTER'S BONE

I'm sure this isn't what I think it is, but it would be nice for the Academy to finally honour the hardworking actors and actresses in the Nordic porn industry.

THE SOCIAL NETWORK

A movie about geeks who get rich? I stopped watching fantasy films after Lord Of The Rings.

THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT

Haven't seen this either, but I like the Who song, so maybe it's a proper video to this. Because this is rather crap. I mean, I drum better than that.

TOY STORY 3

I don't have a joke for this. I'm just stunned. Is this like Peter Jackson getting a nod for RETURN OF THE KING, a kind of 'Well done, lads, you've done some nice work, so here's a nod for Best Picture, but don't spend a lot on your tuxes, if you take our meaning"?

127 HOURS

Is this a movie about how long it takes to play any Final Fantasy game? If so, about time! I want to see this now, as long as it is what I think it is.

Durarara

2011-01-24T16:02:00.000-08:00

Recently, I came across Durarara!, an anime series I was promised would be different from anything I've seen before. Which I took to mean it wouldn't have busty women and giant robots, or an intriguing combination of the two. After two episodes, I will admit that it is unlike any other anime I've ever seen. It has a certain fragile magic that you don't see that often, in anime or in anything else.

If you enjoy love letters to Tokyo like Lost In Translation, then you're already halfway to enjoying Durarara. The series covers the lives of several people living in Tokyo, including a young student coming into the big city for the first time, a potential suicide,a headless motorcycle transporter wearing a cat helmet, and many more. The anime presents the dreamy version of Tokyo I always think of--glittering neon signs, that feeling of tangible future tied to a massive history, the alien and strange that seems more like home than a foreign land.

In my expert position gained by having seen two episodes, I've enjoyed how characters we see in passing in the first episode become the focus in the second, with the initial character now just a figure in the crowd. It's a show about secrets and coping, set against the backdrop of a magical city. So far I'm enjoying it. I just hope there are no giant robots in the offing, unless, of course, they have a secret sadness as well.

Listen

2011-01-18T16:04:00.001-08:00

Keep your mouth shut. Don't say a word. This is the only way you're going to survive.

You're not like them. Don't try to pretend that you are. Smiling at a joke that you know isn't funny, that is something you may have laughed at when you were eight--but even that's up for debate--isn't going to help you. You're going to feel tarnished, and that feeling will continue to grow until it starts to choke you. Until you feel that maybe that's there's something wrong with you.

There isn't.

Your interests are yours and yours alone. If you're fortunate enough to find others who also enjoy them, who can talk passionately about video games, about comics, and care about movies, then be thankful. Be kind to those people and nurture them. Finding them is better than winning a lottery, and almost as good as discovering true love.

We all have to work jobs we hate, if we're fortunate enough to have a job, that is. Get through the hours. Don't sell yourself for that brief but fleeting moment of acceptance that will shrivel once you start talking about your favourite show or book, because rest assured, no one you work with will know what you're talking about.

When you are home, enjoy the fact that you are alive and there are things in this world that fascinate you. Because fascination is rare among most people, replaced instead by fear of rejection. You don't have to worry about that, because you have done what many people have never done:

You know who you are.

You're not alone. The internet was made by people like us for people like us. Remember that the next time someone wants to talk to you the latest popular reality TV show or how they really like the potato chips they get at Wal-Mart.

Cherish your individuality. It takes courage to stand apart, and cowardice not to.

So go, geek. The world is yours to high score.

Limbo

2010-12-30T13:00:00.001-08:00

That's how I see vacations. I look forward to them soooooo much, imagining hours of healing relaxation, of finishing projects, of finally getting to those seven year old copies of Nintendo Power still in plastic. And despite that, my time off always turns into the same pattern of behaviour: that of an eccentric night owl who sleeps in until almost noon, spending the day watching news channels and drinking cup after cup of stygian black coffee.

Granted, it has been a trying time. A beloved pet of mine passed away right before the holidays began, and I had to do the family thing and be social and smiling when it was the last thing I wanted to do. So if I'm a bit more limbo-like than usual right now, I think it's because I'm finally starting to comprehend the absence where a family member used to be.

But today I'm trying to do something other than to wander, zombie-like, around the house. I've been playing ALAN WAKE, a horror game that seems to be just what I need right now. It's so refreshing to play a game laced with references that only horror fans--and by horror fan I don't mean slasher fans--can get. So far I've counted references to King, Moorcock and Lovecraft, and I'm only two hours in.

I also made a pot of black caffeine death and started to plough through Season One of Breaking Bad. I had my doubts about this series, but those evaporated by the end of the second episode. I have only three episodes left, and I may finish those off by tomorrow.

And maybe, just maybe, I might actually get out of this housecoat.

Tron: Legacy: It's Better To DeRez Than Fade Away

2010-12-29T10:43:00.000-08:00

TRON:LEGACY does everything right and in the process does everything wrong. It is a true sequel to 1982's original TRON in terms of narrative, but not in tone. Whereas the original was full of the excitement and hope of the new dawning of the world of computers for the masses, LEGACY is a film of regret and melancholic wonder. Thus the 'true' in 'sequel'. It doesn't try to recreate what went before, as many sequels do, but it re-examines the base concept through the prism of 28 years of experience in a world that the original TRON barely glimpsed.

And this is where it goes wrong, commercially. This is not what the theatre going crowd wants. Fast cuts, lots of action, tits and ass, guns and explosions: that's what the under thirty crowd want to see on-screen. For TRON, they wanted two hours of light cycle races and laser battles, since most of them didn't see the original film and if they did, probably couldn't be bothered with the lame-ass special effects. When they're faced with that most alien of creatures--a story, they were turned off. At least, the ADD crowd I saw LEGACY with were. The re-examination of Flynn's character almost thirty years on saw them leaving the theatre for a smoke. The new take on the Grid--as a dictatorship where citizens are summarily executed for being imperfect, with addicts huddled in alleyways drinking chemical code--meant nothing. The suicidal inclusion of new science fiction ideas to the mythos and moments spent discussing philosophy were merely demonstrations of tightening its own noose. And again, this is where LEGACY got it wrong: this is a movie for the people who saw TRON back in 1982, and for whom the film has been skirting around their subconscious ever since.

As much as I liked the film, it was clear to me that this was a valiant effort that was doomed to failure, but to do anything else would have been cheap and thin--and most probably would guarantee Disney a blockbuster success. Perhaps the next TRON film will be that way, if one is greenlit. But for LEGACY, I applaud the fact that someone made a film for my generation, and for once didn't try to win over the howling masses.

So hold this imperfect, brave creature to your chest, old nerds and geeks. This may be the last time a major studio pays any attention to our failing spirits and declining economic clout.

The Spike VGAs

2010-12-12T13:37:00.000-08:00

I like video games. I enjoy playing them. I enjoy reading about them in magazines like GamePro and websites like Kotaku and GiantBomb. I enjoy listening to podcasts about them, and am partial to discussing games at length with my friends. Which is why I turned on the Spike VGAs last night, an awards show ostensibly aimed at gamers.

And I learned one very important lesson:

The Spike VGAs have about as much to do with gaming as pornography does with love.

Their target audience are not people who love games, but of that eternal subset of gamer who only plays shooters like Call of Duty and the countless variants thereof. The people who live for multiplayer and especially for the verbal abuse they can unleash over their microphones. In fact, the VGAs even had a potential Rhodes Scholar, complete with backwards baseball cap and black T-shirt that read DIRTY HAIRY CUNT, give an ADD tutorial on how to trashtalk. (Hint: say you're going to decapitate their mother! DUDE!)

If you judged gamers by the abortion Spike Television threw up on the screen last night, we all live to be with our bros, see women as nothing more than vehicles to carry around tits and asses and fucking give it up when we've had enough of teabagging noobs. That we adore C-list Hollywood 'celebrities' like Olivia Munn (is there no level of famewhoring that woman will not degrade herself for?)and Denise Richards, and that our sophistication for humour doesn't extend much past fart jokes and, of course, jokes about fucking bitches.

A sell point for the VGAs was allegedly new trailers for games, but these were underwhelming. In fact, were I to own a gaming company, I would be ashamed to even have my product first appear on a show this disgusting. These companies seem oblivious to the fact that the douchenozzles who adore the VGAs are not people who will buy their games--these are the ones who will burn them. And, really, Bethesda, do you think anyone there truly has even played Oblivion, let alone Morrowind? And you launch your trailer for Skyrim there? How many 'rimjob' jokes do you think circulated among the hairgelled fuckheads there?

I could go on about how shitty the show was, (like giving Red Dead Redemption the award for Best Original Game when it's actually a sequel; putting Felicia Day in the seat filler section; the PETA jokes and the gay slandering, which damns host Neil Patrick Harris even more, since as a gay man he allowed himself to be a party to this abhorrent behaviour), but I've had enough of thinking about it. Instead, I'm going to go and play Golden Sun, a game I'm sure the majority of the people behind the VGAs have never heard of. Or even care to.

Costume Quest Complete! Life's Dream Achieved!

2010-11-14T11:34:00.000-08:00

So I finally finished Costume Quest at 12:44 a.m. Saturday morning, or late Friday night. I did so in my pyjamas, sitting on the carpet in front of the TV, the same way I've been playing video games since I was 14. Chairs are for losers, man. And I not only finished it--I demolished it. Completely S-Ranked it, which would be something to be proud of if it was actually all that hard to do, but I'LL TAKE IT.

It was a good game. GiantBomb, those cards, have deemed it 'My First RPG.' Yes, it was fairly simple, but it was the funniest game I've played all year, so it balances out. People who fall to their knees and howl at an uncaring universe that it was too short are wrong: it's just the right amount of time. I think I spent about six or seven hours with it, and for $15, that seems a fair economic trade.

But it inspired me to go back and get to work on my Pile of Shame. I have more half finished things in my life than finished, be it books, video games, or suicide notes. And so I decided on THE RULE OF THREE, as it will now apply to the Vidja.

I hereby now decree that taking into account my lifelong ADD, I will limit myself to only THREE games at a time, and cannot play anything new until I finish one of them. Brave words, but I'm 45 now. If I don't get a'crackin' on Pokemon now, I never will.

So the THREE shall be:

1. Red Dead Redemption

(I think I"m close to finishing this anyway, so it's an easy add.)

2. Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor

This is a tactical RPG, and I suck at those. This will be a learning experience.

3. Pokemon HeartGold

Shut up.

So we shall see. And what are your games you gotta finish? For every game we don't finish, it's like they win on a level we don't understand. And if your gamerscore isn't at least 10,000 before you level up to the next life, you don't get that Sexy Awesome Bonus with your next character. I heard that on the internet.

The Chronology of Cool: The Relationship Between Video Games And Their Fans

2010-10-31T12:37:00.000-07:00

With the recent release of FABLE 3, I see once again a familiar dance in play. For those who play video games and pay even a modicum of attention to game sites and podcasts,you know the tune well enough to sing along. So I thought I'd lay out the entire composition, so you can chart just where we are now with the latest from Lionhead Studios.

OPENING RIFF: A New Game Is Announced!

MegaVidja, a company that makes popular games that involve shooting things, announces through their website that they are making a new game. Gaming sites quote the paragraph long statement in its entirety, then add a comment that is either cynical or fawning. Discussion boards on these sites begin theorizing on what the game will be, with much discussion on how great their previous MegaVidja games were, or how absolute shit they were and how can this company still be around? Flame wars erupt. On podcasts, hours are spent discussing MegaVidja's hard to find PS2 critical darling, SUPER POWER SWORD OF MAGIC LIGHTNING. Available only on PS2 and only in Japan, it is seen as the greatest game ever. Anyone who has never heard of the game is met with a surprised 'Really?', their gamer cred instantly questioned.

OPENING LYRICS: The Name of The Game Is Announced. (One Month Later)

MegaVidja announces that the new game will be a sequel to SUPER POWER SWORD OF MAGIC LIGHTNING. It will be 'updated for a modern audience.' Sites explode with truckloads of 'Hell Yeah' and exclamation points. The future seems very bright for everyone in the world. Podcasts become a mix of those wanting to see what all the fuss is about and those who think the first game set a standard that is humanly impossible to beat, even with today's advanced technology, because there was a magic back then that you just don't have today. Many more hours will be spent with people discussing HD support, frame rate, pixel count and processing power. One fist fight will occur somewhere over whether SUPER POWER SWORD OF LIGHTNING II: THE RECKONING would be better in 3D.

FIRST CHORUS: Lead Designer Announced, Along With Possible Release Date (Three Weeks Later)

Game is determined already to be a failure on 40 percent of sites, since the designer was a third assistant sound engineer on a failed Final Fantasy spin off only released on the Famicom in the last century. 20 percent don't cover the story, since they don't know who he is. The other forty percent will just use an image of proposed cover art for the game to boost site hits, with no comment other than rehashing the press release. Podcasters will sigh with disappointment, since anyone other than Shigeru Miyamoto or Tim Schafer doing a game is a recipe for disaster, apocalypse, and wearing of ash cloth.

SECOND LYRICS: Game Footage Leaked (Six Months Later)

Big story of the day net wide. Up to date motion effects and decent combat cause half of sites to proclaim it to be the best game they've ever seen, while the other half bemoan the loss of innocence of the previous PS2 game. Accusations of selling out and pandering to the HALO crowd begin to rise. Magazines--those who are still around--promise in-depth interviews with the reclusive game designer while putting images of the footage on their front covers, with no article inside to accompany it. Podcasts again ramble on about technical jargon before sneering that there has yet to be any talk of multiplayer.

SECOND CHORUS: Game Goes Gold, Set To Release In A Week (One Year Later)

Sites go crazy. SUPER POWER SWORD OF MAGIC LIGHTNING II will save the games industry. Phrases like 'old time gaming' and 'getting back to basics' are thrown around, as is 'instant classic'. Excitement on podcasts is matched only by snobby airiness of game insiders who have been invited to demos and gush about how fantastic SUPER POWER SWORD is, and how you need to buy this game NOW. But oh, right, you haven't played it yet, have you? Oh, that's right. You're not special.

SECOND CHORUS: Game Is Released (Two Weeks Later, After Multi-Player Bug Found)

Internet shuts down. Twitter accounts are filled with those who have the game praising it, tweeting friends to join them in mulitplayer because it's so awesome. Spoilers abound as people give away plot lines like club members showing off their membership cards. Podcasts gush and adore the game for the week.

FINAL LYRICS: DLC Announced For Game (Two Months Later)

MegaVidja announces zombie DLC for SUPER POWER SWORD. Sites go ho-hum, zombies are so three years ago. Game is considered to be a bit of a failure, since it dropped out of the top five sales charts last week. How crappy SUPER POWER SWORD looked in HD is discussed, and wasn't that a crappy Achievements list? Podcasters are surprised that anyone is still playing that game. People who enjoyed SUPER POWER SWORD are relegated to the lower echelon of gamers, like those who only play Madden and HALO. Someone starts a LTTP: SUPER POWER SWORD on Neo-Gaf. He is derided.

FINAL CHORUS AND INSTRUMENTAL: New Game Is Announced (Two Months Later)

MegaVidja announces a new game, a crossover between SUPER POWER SWORD and Capcom's STREET FIGHTER. Both sites and podcasts are excited, but openly wonder if they can actually capture the magic and grace of SUPER POWER SWORD II, which all agree was really an under-appreciated game. Too bad that designer got fired, because only he could do this game right.

The Dreadful Day Before The Work Week

2010-10-11T16:08:00.001-07:00

..fills us with bile, but we know 'tis necessary.

Started a new short story today. I won't go so far as to say that I'm on FIRE of late in regards to fiction writing, but there has been definite progress being made. Vulcan Ninja has convinced me to stop re-writing as heavily as I do, and just let what I create alone instead of forever deleting a previous day's work. And she's right. I wonder if part of me knows I'm going to die soon, and wants to get these damned stories out of my head so that I can rest easy in my grave. Which I was rather hoping would be on Mars beneath a crystal palace, but there's still hope.

Other exciting events included raking leaves, bagging said leaves, then going for a run whilst listening to The GeekBox.

As for recent gaming, I've been my usual ADD. I made it to Mexico in Red Dead Redemption, but have gone back to the good ole U.S. of A. to achievement whore. I'm not sure how I feel about the Mexico part of the story--it seems a bit uneven in places, but that may be forgiven for the wonderful scene in a poker game gone horribly wrong. ("There must be a name for this.")

I've also played more Dragon Quest, opening up the Ranger class. Phoenix Wright also got a visit in the past week, as did Risk: Factions, completing the second mission 'A Bridge Too Fur'. You play cats fighting soldiers, and you throw hairballs. I swear, they must be thinking only of me when they write this stuff.

For the podcast, I'm also exploring my first MUD, playing Gemstone IV. Vanessa is also allegedly playing it as well. I'm also trying to track down the GET LAMP DVD, since I'm fascinated by this world that I only have of which I only have a passing knowledge. Even though people assume I'm a total geek, there's so much I missed out on. I blame my girlfriends and new wave music. Oh, the hours they stole...

Looking For Magic: Dragon Quest IX

2010-10-07T16:37:00.000-07:00

The thing that clinched my need to play Dragon Quest IX was listening to the podcast whose title is lost to brain cell death and time.

In it, the 'caster was talking about the mania that seems to take over Japan whenever a new DQ game comes out. He spoke about being in a night club late at night, surreptitiously watching a beautiful woman come through the door. As his eyes tracked her, she sat at the bar, and pulled a DS out of her purse. Like a true geek, he walked by to see what it was that such a vision would play. In a bar. After midnight.

Of course, it was Dragon Quest IX.

It seemed to me like a scene out of an unfilmed gamer version of Lost In Translation. It felt oddly magical, that this was a glimpse of somewhat more perfect universe. Much of tied into my still romantic views of Japanese gamer culture, and of my dream of one day walking Akhibara, undoubtedly dressed up and cool like a William Gibson anti-hero.

And yet for all the mystique I piled upon the game, impatiently waiting for it to arrive from as yet to be proven but I've got my hunches sadistically slow Amazon, I still felt a bit of disappointment when I began to play. It's the same with most JRPGS--I think there's a part of me that, once put into the gaming console, expects the game to turn into a GeekGate into that perfect Tokyo. When it is revealed to be just what it is--a game--I feel a bit crestfallen. It reminds me of when I landed in England for the first time, expecting to find the country that lived in my imagination (Wombles, Doctor Who, EastEnders, Enid Blyton), and found...that it was just another place. And the carpet in Gatwick was stained and torn, and no one was wearing derbies.

But as I played DQ, I began to see it not so much as a love letter to Japan as it is a loving temple built for gamers with borderline OCD. You can get stuff, and make more stuff, and some of that stuff? It's hard to find. But when you do find it, you'll feel fabulous. Until you read on a forum that there is something even more fabulous. In a magic dungeon that you need to find the treasure map for NOW.

The love of the ridiculous is amply rewarded. An off the shoulder dress, for example, is better defence than a ranger's leather outfit. You can make helmets out of Slimes. An unlocked Feat is Pratfall.

Imagine trying to sell this game here in North America. In a continent of shooters, something like Dragon Quest would be met with blank stares, and if forethought had been employed, a lever would be pulled which would cause the floor to drop away. With a bit more forethought, there might be sharks circling beneath.

And now I love the game for different reasons. The magic is now more in the game than it is in the country of origin. And yet, it somehow deepens my fascination with Japan, that something like DQ that can attract so many fans proclaims that, in terms of gamer culture, I'd find a home. An illusory home, but those are usually the best kind.

But still, I like to think of that first magic moment, of the girl in the bar, of neon flickering outside in kanji, of a brief shared smile over something ridiculous yet vital.

And wonder what class she was playing.

Onto The Soapbox

2010-09-28T15:12:00.001-07:00

I listened to a bit of Jim Chapman's NewsHour today. He was off on another rant, this time about teen moms. He took the classic style of not actually saying how he felt, but masking it by asking pointed questions, ostensibly to create discussion, but perhaps also in aid of saying how he feels without actually saying it.

He floated this universal question: Is it right that the government subsidizes teenage moms to sit at home with their kids? Why do we do that?

Well, gee, Jim, I don't know. So that maybe the baby won't go without food? But I'm like that. I don't like seeing kids go hungry. It's part of being a do gooding liberal type. I also don't get my hair cut every week, so it's clear anything I say is probably spiked with hippie-ness. I probably wear beads, too.

He then laid out the sad tale of how some 'people of substance' in the community--you know, people with jobs and houses--can't have kids, and there are none to adopt. NONE. And why is that? Because those tattooed teen moms are keeping them.

And he went on, and I despaired for this city even more than I thought possible.

Which brings us to the election. Yes, we here in London are having another mayoral election. We do this not primarily to elect a mayor, but to let the right wing, right thinking folk shout about taxes and how we should lay down, spread ourselves, and await any business that may wander by the city limits.

Our choices for mayor--despite the high number of candidates--actually only comes down to a race between two: Mayor Anne Marie DeCicco-Best and Joe Fontana.

To my eye, Mayor Annie offers to do the same job she's done since the sixteenth century: running the city in a rather cold, detached fashion, riding the waves of Council infighting, and rarely showing that she can be a rather fun person. Many people have deemed her Anne Marie De-Cyborg for her curt manner, but like Threepio and Robbie The Robot, she seems to get the job done.

Joltin' Joe offers another more dramatic vision of the city. A vision where we can all work together, union and business, hand in hand, probably dancing to 'We Are Family'. I suspect in this future the sun will always shine and unicorns will be seen prancing in the distance. His offer of NO TAXES! gets the right wingers clutching at their genitals, but his plan to achieve this utopian ideal seem as vague and atmospheric as a Moog synthesizer solo. A 'line by line' examination of the city budget makes me think of Joe wearing a green visor as he pores over the budget with a ruler, but doesn't inspire much confidence.

I mean, I can do a 'line by line' reading of Joyce's Ulysses and still have no fucking idea what's going on. Maybe Joltin' Joe will have more luck with the city budget. Maybe he won't. Maybe we'll just both go and read Dubliners instead.

To my ears, Fontana is selling a dream that London still believes can come true. That the Good Old Days can come back, that--to use Fontana's own words--London can get it's 'swagger' back. That this rather scary future the city faces--major industries closing up shops and lightspeeding down to Mexico or the States; the eroding of economical invulnerability London always felt it had, and always would, and the grim truth that London's children will probably have to leave the city to find meaningful work, or accept that it'll be one low paying job after another--doesn't have to be. Fontana has the Time Machine. With him, we can all go back. Before you know it, the Simpsons Christmas Windows will be back--year round!

And that's what's going on in London right now. If you're a right winger, you have lots of radio to listen to, with the self proclaimed 'Voice Of London' letting you feel good for beating down on the unfortunate. You can vote for Fontana who is pro-business and pro-dream, and maybe once you rent out that last of your ghetto apartments to teen moms, you can buy that armoured SUV you've had your eye on.

Or you can be like me, and feel alienated by the whole thing. By the whole city. I'll probably vote for Mayor Annie not because I think she's the best choice for the job, but because she's not trying to sell me a modern version of It's A Wonderful Life. Fake dream over proven management style? Yeah, it ain't exciting, it doesn't inspire, but it'll do.

Just like London.

My New Hero!

2010-09-20T16:43:00.000-07:00

Dude.

Games I Do Get: Zombies!!!

2010-09-18T11:16:00.001-07:00

With my September cold now making me even more miserable and nihilistic, I tried my best to ignore the futility of existence last night by playing a new board game.

ZOMBIES!!! is impressive, essentially because of its relative inexpensiveness and its generous provision of ways to completely fuck up the other players in your game. In that sense, it reminded me of Munchkin, but with a darker, more bloodsoaked heart.

In the game, you have to be the first player to either make it to the helicopter escape point in the typically abandoned city or rack up 25 zombie kills first. The city is built as you play, with cards each player pulls at the start of their turn. Some of the city cards have instructions to place loot and a number of zombies on them. After that, you roll for movement, having to fight any zombies whose square you pass through.

A four and above is a win--anything less is a loss. You can spend the two forms of loot to better your chances--Hearts let you re-roll, and Bullets let you add points to your failed roll to make it a kill. You also can draw cards that can either buff you up or fuck up the other players. At the end of your turn, you then make a roll for the zombies, the number rolled allowing you to move that number of the undead one place. In this way, you can clear a path for yourself, or make life more horrid for the NotYou.

In last night's game, my friend Chad got stuck in a toy store, surrounded by zombies. My character took the route towards just killing all zombies, which ended in my dying myself. (Bruce Campbell, you make it look so easy.) In the end, Vulcan Ninja managed to completely outfox everyone else and made her escape into the skies, while the zombies continued their inevitable stagger towards the rest of us.

It was quite a bit of fun, even with a killer sinus cold and the game lasting until past midnight. Simple rules, lots of cards (of good paper stock and nice art), and tons of fiddly plastic zombies to move around. Tactile and just enough tactics not to hurt my stupid brain.

Unlike other games I could mention. Oh, wait, I did...

Games I Don't Get: Civilization

2010-09-16T16:54:00.000-07:00

Civilization is the Radiohead of games. If you say you don't like it, then you're obviously lacking in good taste. If you don't enthuse about the game every time someone mentions it, then you probably listen to Nickelback. You may even have a tattoo of them, you love them so much.

Believe me, I've tried to get into this game. I've put in the hours. But every game I play ends the same way: I get invaded, my citizens riot, world leaders bitch me out, and I turn the game off, the hours I spent trying to make headway in this game twirling away down the temporal toilet.

Even now, I'm trying to play it again. I change things up--I'll go all offensive, invading everyone who looks at me funny; I'll try and take the Culture route and make the prehistory versions of Disneyland to enthrall potential suckers; I'll try and mine, grow food and build roads like a Doozer. But still, it all ends in flames and tears.

Maybe I'm doing it wrong. Maybe I should play it like a shooter. Make it needs Pokemon. But whatever it is, I just don't get Civilization.

And I didn't think In Rainbows was Radiohead's best, either.

Sorry!

All The Geek Movie Reviews You Need On A Monday Afternoon ARE HERE!

2010-09-06T11:26:00.000-07:00

While normal people spent their Labour Day Weekend texting each other about mulch or wondering if they couldn't get another round of golf in before they head off to see their mistresses, I watched little films that could. Films that were made for very little, with a very specific audience in mind, and can never truly aspire to be anything other than a cult favourite.

In short, my kind of movies.

The first was a British construction entitled FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ABOUT TIME TRAVEL. I had a trailer linked, but it was extremely fucking twee and gave too much away about the film. It's about three losers who discover a time traveling pub. It stars some familiar faces if you watch THE IT CROWD and BEING HUMAN, and it's also surprisingly fun. It's also clever, and if you're a time travel addict like myself, you will only hate yourself until you've seen it. Most importantly, it's fun and light for people who like to read books as a pasttime. Others may find it confusing, or simply turn it off because the actors aren't American.

The other l'il film was DEFENDOR. Granted, this looks like the recipe for Bad. A man tries to be a real superhero without having any money or, apparently, common sense. But I thought it worked fairly well. The cast is good, from Woody Harrelson as the lead, and a familiar assemblage of Canadian actors who can always be relied upon, like Clark Johnston and Elias Koteas (can any other Canadian actor play Slimy Creep better than him?) Kat Dennings is also good, but doesn't get enough screen time. Her forte is humour and deadpan delivery, and casting her as the Hooker With A Heart Of Gold Somewhere Deep Inside seems a bit of a waste. Like SCOTT PILGRIM Pilgrim, DEFENDOR doesn't hide that it takes place in Canada (it was filmed in Hamilton), but they only refer to the city by one of its many nicknames--The Hammer. But we do have the Hamilton Spectator on view, and a court room scene is clearly of the Ontario variety.

The script is also a surprise. It isn't cheesy, or God forbid, wacky. It's just a good, solid, little film that rewards your time spent watching it. And it takes place in Canada, with the apparently requisite Metric song on the soundtrack.

Right. Now to see if I can get a tee off on the back nine with Tiger...

Comics I Done Read: August 20-22, 2010

2010-08-22T10:29:00.000-07:00

Mr. Southwell says he misses my comic reviews, so I thought I'd oblige the old man and pen some thoughts on the money wasting collection of panels and colours I still feel compelled to buy and not steal off torrents like the rest of the goddamned world.

These are not up-to-date, but just what I've got to on The Pile.

AVENGERS #2

I'm not a fan of John Romita's current art style, but I am a fan of Bendis' writing and general chattiness. I wasn't overjoyed to see Wonder Man looking all purply and pissed off on the cover, since I have never been a fan of the guy. I'm just not a fan of heroes that are specific only to teams, who are not strong enough to have their own books and/or are just not compelling on their own. It's like they're riding the coattails of all the other heroes who have earned the right to be in a company's major Big Team Book. Hello Wonder Man! Hello Wasp! Hello Red Tornado--no, wait, I kinda like him.

The story is saved by having Kang and some weird ass time travel hoodoo going on, which I'm always up for. There's a passable two page spread that shows a whack of alternate Marvel Universes that gave me a few minutes of pointing and going 'oooh, so they put him in!' But Wonder Man's asinine attack and the appearance of certain cosmic villains at the end of the book felt a little contrived. I mean, I know they're the Avengers and they have to fight big ass monsters, but....meh.

DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS #1

This is a one buck teaser for IDW's upcoming Dungeons and Dragons ongoing coming this fall. It's divided into two halfs--one is a quick adventure with the team we'll see in the ongoing book, and the other is a taste of a Dark Sun mini IDW will also be putting out, in conjunction with Hasbro's push of all things Dark Sun as of late.

The Dark Sun story comes off a little thin, and didn't really inspire me to seek out any more of it. But the opening Dungeons and Dragons story was quite a bit of fun. The team here seems to finally get what makes D&D fun--it's not overwrought drama, it's not people speaking in thees and thous--it's fun, goofy storytelling. Writer John Rogers keeps everything light and witty, and Andrea De Vito's art is perfect for such a tale. I just felt that after years of other companies trying to do a successful D&D comic--and failing--Rogers nailed it in only ten pages. Looking forward to seeing what this team can do with a monthly book.

ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN #13

This book hasn't exactly been an example of high tension storytelling of late. I keep picking it up because of Bendis, who I think writes Spider-Man better than anyone else today. David Lafuente's art has also grown on me over the months. The story in this issue makes an attempt to ramp up the excitement a bit, with a team of Chameleons (!) having managed to accidentally kidnap Peter Parker and discover who he is. Now, a shapechanger is impersonating Parker and is robbing New York blind as Spider-Man while Peter is handcuffed to J. Jonah Jameson in the usual abandoned warehouse. All the work Spider-Man did in improving his name throughout the tidal wave is now swirling down the toilet, and Aunt May makes a decision to save her nephew.

I'm curious to see where this will go. I can't see a Reset button being pressed here, and even though we've seen this before (New York Hates Spidey But Really He's A Hero!)some bass lines never get old. At least, if the person playing it makes it his own, and I trust Bendis will do that.

JUGHEAD COMICS #202

In an attempt to do something different, Archie Comics now has Jughead working as a sort of P.I. Yes, you heard me right. Apparently, Jughead is going through a crime fiction phase, wearing a trench coat and narrating his life like a Mickey Spillane novel. Of course, if you do that in Riverdale, people will come to you to solve crimes.

The crime here has to do with a stolen invention, and anyone over the age of eight will know who did it by page 4. It's Archie Comics doing what they do--a light story where no one really gets hurt, and it being a Jughead story, the big reveal at the end has to include food, which of course Jughead finds delicious.

The only other thing to note is that now, in 2010, Dilton has forgone his thick black glasses for more stylish, square frames. And did I mention that Midge now has several piercings? Riverdale is cool, dog.

When Geeks Get Grumpy

2010-08-19T18:35:00.000-07:00

It's hot, I'm old, I've had four hours sleep, and my wife is watching CASTLE so I can't play any damn video games. So the internet is going to feel my rage.

Hodgepodge of hate on deck!

1. PEOPLE WHO SEE BOOKS AND READING AS SOMETHING THEY MEAN TO DO, BUT ARE TOO BUSY RIGHT NOW

Please, fuck off. I do not want you to look at the magazine or book I have in my hand and see that as an excuse to tell me how you don't have time to read anymore because you have to take your kids to soccer practice, piano lessons or the abortion clinic and/or are just too damn tired to read when all your Important Work in your life is done. Funny how you seem to all have time to watch every NFL game that's aired or to drink a 24 every weekend. Weird.

2. PEOPLE WHO DON'T APPRECIATE HOW AWESOME DOGS ARE

I saw a woman today trudge her way out of her apartment with a small poodle in tow. She walked down the small laneway to the sidewalk, a space of about forty feet. She then turned onto the sidewalk, walked six steps down, then stopped.

"Okay, that's enough. Back inside." And she turned back towards the apartment, her bare feet slapping on the cement. The dog looked wistfully around herself, then trotted back towards the apartment.

"Really?" I said, surprised I said it out loud. "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?" I said even louder.

She didn't turn around. Which is probably a good thing, because I don't think what I would have said would have helped the world inch closer towards universal peace and understanding.

3. I'M NOT YOUR GEEK FRIEND

I have two people in my ever diminishing circle of friends who have made the mistake of saying that I'm their 'geek friend'. Not that I'm geeky, which I don't mind, even if Doctor Laura called me that. No, I'm their 'geek friend' when they want to talk about geek things, or want to know what is going on in the geek world.

Again, fuck off. It's like saying, 'Oh, this is my handjob girlfriend,' or 'This is the guy I call when I want to get my car fixed for free." It illustrates the size of their ego, and of how I exist simply to fulfill a specific need for them. I often imagine these people have calendars beside their phones, with each day of the week being assigned to a certain 'adjective' friend, with a notebook alongside to make helpful notes. These conversations will consist of said friend asking three or four questions regarding the person's particular interest, then the friend will then take over the conversation and talk about him or herself for twenty five minutes.

I have experienced this once too fucking often.

And of course, there's always....oh, wait, CASTLE's over.

Twice In One Day

2010-08-15T10:39:00.001-07:00

So I saw Scott Pilgrim twice in one day. I don't think I've ever done *anything* fun twice in one day, except maybe complain and feel sorry for myself. So, ACHIEVEMENT!

I don't feel compelled to add my praise to the film, other to say that it fit right inside my soul like a lost puzzle piece. It clicked with the reassuring finality of something I didn't know I was missing. I saw it first at the Rainbow Cinemas with the L.A. Mood screening, alongside those two strangers I do internet radio with, then headed out into the refined wilds of Masonville to see the 4:00 show at Silver City. Staggering out of the film, I then zombie like went to buy the soundtrack.

As I stumbled into HMV, a young woman at the counter with bright gold eyeshadow saw the CD I was about to purchase.

"Have you seen the movie?" she asked.

"Twice today," I said.

"Oh. Is it that good?"

I think I must have been thinking of something in 8-bit, so I just mumbled some sort of mumbly affirmation.

"Have you seen it?" I asked.

"No, but I want to. I love the comics. I love that he's from London."

She then gave me the sort of look 25 year old women give men in their late forties who also read the same comics they do--part sadness, part fear, part dismissal--and went back to being young.

So to home, my head ringing with the film the way my ears did post-Slayer. As Ninja giggled over the film, I tried to purge my uppper consciousness with a little cheerful Lovecraft, mixing the joy of overwrought prose and the liberal use of words like 'eldrtich' and 'lurking horror' to the pop culture morass in my head.

Not surprisingly, I had nightmares about schools, where I wandered empty hallways wearing mirror shades.

This morning, I woke with a realization: that someone, somewhere is undoubtedly writing SCOTT PILGRIM VS. CTHULU. If not, they damn well should be.

It's Never Too Late For Too Human

2010-08-07T17:09:00.000-07:00

I'm of that generation who is still amazed by technology. (I think the generation before mine just ignores it, and the one before them still thinks it's all a trick perpetuated by the fucking Commies.)

For example, last night I was playing my beloved White Box of Dreams, when a message popped up from my dear friend, David. We cast the spell that creates an XBox Party, and within seconds we're talking over headphones while we played our respective games. Yes, kids today take that for granted, then start bitching about sound quality and drop offs, but I'm still at isn'tthisawesome? I mean, I'm playing a game in my house and he's playing a game in his house and we're talking? HOLY FUCK!

So, way too late last night, David and both fired up TOO HUMAN and did some multiplayer. I haven't played this game in almost a year. It's not that I didn't care for it, but it fell to the Creeping Death. That is, like most gamers, if I put a game down for more than two weeks, (usually because of that always perfect New Shiny Game) a tinge of invisible moss begins to grow upon it, and finally it becomes obscured, fading away into the background like a forgotten temple of wonder. Because usually, a new wondrous thing has arrived, and that too shall be loved and adored, until it too suffers the Creeping Death.

It took David to get me to take a machete to the moss and vines, and rediscover it.

Yes, the game has its problems--namely, the camera. But aside from that, the combat falls under the honorific of Fun,the loot system is gleefully outrageous, and most importantly, it's a game whose reach far exceeds its grasp. It tries so hard. And that's what I love about it--Norse gods who are really technological warriors? Okay, I'm down with that. Like an Image comic you don't feel guilty for reading, TOO HUMAN is both goofy and well intentioned, and doesn't make you feel like it stole precious time from you. It deserved better than it got.

So David and I played some Multi-Player last night, and had a fun time doing so. It took me awhile to re-acclimatize myself to the controls, but before long, I was juggling enemies while pounding the crap out of them with my Sword of Eternal Punishment Giving, or variation thereof. And somewhere deep inside, the little jerk who thought the Atari 2600 was cool was jumping up and down, thinking, wow, this is what all of the future should be like.

A Stranger Is Just A Friend We Haven't Overshared With

2010-07-31T15:14:00.000-07:00

So there I was, sitting in the abandoned wasteland that used to be Westmount Mall, my head still ringing post-Slayer. Vulcan Ninja was in a store purchasing the sorts of things that a man standing alongside a woman as she decides on her purchase can only create uncomfortableness or very lame jokes. So, temporary exile.

Out of the corner of my eye I see an old man approaching me. He keeps approaching, so I glance up past my tinnitus. He stops in front of me.

He's in his late seventies, wearing a baseball cap and the sort of glasses that shade into sunglasses outside. He looks at me.

"You know, I was walking in that store in the men's section and I let a really big fart," he said.

I continued to stare at him, hoping the long hair, fierce biker beard and accompanying death glare will make him turn and walk away.

It doesn't.

"So, I got the hell out of that area, movin' around to the next aisle because it was a really bad one. And then this other guy walks right into it with his wife," he continued. "And she turns to him and goes "You dirty pig!'" and she starts just hitting him. Hitting him in the chest!"

"Wow," I replied.

"She was really hitting him. If I hit my wife like that with all those cameras in there, I'd be arrested by the police. They'd throw me right in the jail. So after she goes away, I walk up to this guy. He's got to be in his eighties or so."

"Really?" I said.

He glances over at the store. I wonder if Vulcan Ninja will ever emerge. Maybe I died last night, and this is Limbo.

"So I says to the guy, 'Hey, I let that fart. It was me.' 'Well, it really upset her,' this old guy says. 'she doesn't like farting', he says."

"And you know, my wife don't like farting either, but she sure as hell don't hit me for it. And I just started wondering what these guy's life must be like, seeing how he can't even fart. She must beat the hell out of that guy. He's got a walker and everything."

"Geez," I said.

Silence reigned, except for the ringing in my ears and the crumbling decay of the mall around me.

"See what they're charging for water in there?" the old man asked, breaking the silence mercifully with words and not an ass-trumpet. "Four dollars. I can buy the same water for two at Wal-Mart. Quite a mark-up on water, wouldn't you say?"

"I think I'm going to try and find my wife," I said, getting up. "You take care of yourself, sir."

I walked into the store. He shouted after me, "Good luck with that!"

You Know What The World's Missing?

2010-07-30T12:41:00.001-07:00

This came to me as I awoke this morning, as the first light of dawn broke across my bedchambers.

I realized--with a pang of loss--that there just aren't any videos dedicated to the magic of Walt Disney by Finnish symphonic metal bands. And that hurts. Because this world would be a better place if a metal band didn't sing about getting drunk, tarot boards, running for the hills, or hangers with the numerical designation 18. And it's just wrong that there isn't something like that---

Oh, wait.

There is.

Summer Evenings of Beautiful Apocalypse

2010-07-24T10:00:00.001-07:00

The sky over London last evening had this beautiful, almost golden aura, the dying light of the day falling in a new palette over the city. Both Vulcan Ninja and I went outside to watch it, seeing a faint rainbow spanning the world to the east.

"It's the Apocalypse, " I said, almost on reflex, thinking how that says a lot about the 21st century mind--that any change at all in the world can only indicate the End of Times, even a different shade of evening light.

Since I used to be known as a writer, I should report that I'm spending time I should be utilizing best defeating metal slimes or rastlin' cattle working on a short story. I've set aside the Canadian Gothic novel, since this short story has that feeling of impermanence about it, that if I just leave it as a series of notes that I'll come back to it in six months time and not know what any of it means. This has happened to me a few times before, and it's unsettling. I've come across entire treatments for novels that I don't even remember writing. So that's what I'm working on right now, while the idea is still fresh. And it's one of those rare beasts that actually arrived in my head fully formed, and it was just be sheer ingratitude not to accommodate it.

There was an offer of sorts to work on a new newspaper that's coming out here soon, doing a column, but after seven years of working for the Free Press in that capacity, I think I'm done with that. Yes, I could use the money, but I already do something solely for a paycheque, and I never want writing to be that. If there isn't that grab, that spark of something mysterious and fun to the work, then I don't do it. And that's why I drive a ten year old car and only have two good pairs of pants. The long suffering, insufferable artist in me demands no less.

Spending Time With Old Friends

2010-07-22T12:27:00.000-07:00

For most of this summer, I've been spending my video game time exploring the old West with my pal John Marston, herdin' cattle, playin' cards, shootin' them what's need shootin', and avoidin' using the entirety of 'ing' in common parlance.

But courtesy of Giant Bomb and their legendary Endurance Run, I've found myself revisiting the Pile of Shame and pulling this unfinished treasure from the pile.

Persona 4 is a game that I sunk about thirteen hours into, but became frustrated with, since I wasn't sure what I was doing was right, what it was I should be doing, hitting that JRPG wall that I've hit so often that it's starting to look like my death mask. But after seeing an episode of the Endurance Run, and seeing that I wasn't alone in my ignorance and in my fascination, I've gone back to it.

It's a very strange game. Strange not just because it's a high school dating sim, but strange because that's just where the game starts. It's also a murder mystery. It has lots of demons, and mysterious old men hanging out in limousines, playing Tarot.The localization of the game has left all the Japanese cultural touchstones in the game, especially in terms of social behaviour. It's very cartoony, but a lot of darkness runs through the plot. It's like a gem that seems filled with sunshine, but when you look closer, you see the bloodstains inside.

So I've been playing for an hour at a time, then going back to watch the Giant Bomb team make their way through the same areas. It's nerdy fun to see how often we make the same decisions, game-wise. And here I thought they were all Olympians of gaming! Persona makes noobs of us all.

The Comic Book Kiss Of Cancellation Death

2010-07-20T10:24:00.000-07:00

Seems like I have this power.

Over the past year or so, I've noticed that the majority of books that I find and enjoy very shortly disappear from store shelves, forever. It seems that whenever I come across a book that I connect with, that I look forward to picking up, that I start telling people about, it starts a domino effect of almost instant cancellation.

Let's take a look at the books I've found, only to have them fade into the ether and/or cheap backbins of comics history.

EXILES--a fun alternate universe team up book by Jeff Parker. Witty, creative, a breath of fresh air. CANCELED after six issues.

AGENTS OF ATLAS- Another different take on the super hero genre, with kitschy robots, gorillas, and dragon led secret organizations. CANCELED.

LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES BY JIM SHOOTER--After years of uncertain storytelling, Jim Shooter returns with a definite grip on the team and a sure hand in actually delivering an ongoing, interesting story. CANCELED.

DOCTOR VOODOO, SORCERER SUPREME--I do love those old Seventies Marvel horror comics, and so does writer Rick Remender. While off to a rather shaky start, it was clear Remender was starting to build a solid horror comic that did something different, with a focus on voodoo and creepy shit. CANCELED AFTER FIVE ISSUES.

GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY/NOVA--Apart from those Seventies horror books, Marvel did a fine job with their cosmic books. Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning had an entire cosmic playground to play with in these books, bringing back old Micronauts and classic Jim Starlin characters. Great, great fun.

ON HIATUS.

See?

So what do I currently like, which is to say, what book creators will soon be receiving the red phone call of death from their editors?

THUNDERBOLTS--I like crappy B-list characters, and this is where they get to shine. But with Dark Reign over, it seems like Marvel isn't sure what to do with these guys now. Make them just like every other superteam? The sure sign of death is including a remnant from the Seventies horror books--Man Thing. It's like asking for it.

AVENGERS ACADEMY--Beautiful art by Mike McKone. Great take on the heroes in training nugget by Christos Gage. But includes Tigra, another Seventies icon. When will they learn?

DEADPOOL--No, wait, what in hell am I thinking? This book is going nowhere, unless Marvel milks the character so much with excess titles and crossovers that people just get fed up and move on. (See Lobo.) Naw, that will never happen. Right?

ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN--That rarest of things--an actual once a month Spider-Man book that doesn't demand you read three or four other titles to get the all important Full Picture. Writer Brian Michael Bendis is focusing on characters and slow burn villains, asking his readers to be patient as he puts together another enjoyable little soap opera with masks and teen angst. He's forgetting, of course, that most comic book fans embrace their ADD like it's an Xbox Live Achievement.

RED ROBIN--A simple and beautiful book that understands why we fell in love with superhero comics in the first place--the fantasy of exciting adventure, of unlimited wealth, of beautiful women finding us interesting, and an impossible sense of absolute freedom. But it's short of gore and violence, so, well, you know, the market may not be ready for this.

ATLAS--Yes, the Agents are back, but outside of a few quick intros to the team, it's still the same quirky book it was before. And they've also added a Seventies B-list character--the 3-D Man. We know how this will end.

In tears.

High School Of The Dead: Zombies, Blood, and Lots of Bouncing

2010-07-11T12:06:00.000-07:00

I really thought I was sick of zombies. Well, perhaps sick is the wrong word. Let's go with over-saturated. In the past few years, I've read my share of zombie comics (The Walking Dead, Marvel Zombies), read quite a few zombie novels (The Book of The Dead, World War Z), and seen a decaying handful of films (like Dead Snow, Shaun of The Dead, 28 Days Later and Zombieland). And let's not even start with video games. So I thought I'd had enough of the shambling undead and all the metaphors, allegories and brain eating they bring.

But no. I hadn't seen any zombie anime. It was an unploughed bit of zombie field that didn't know existed in me.That is, until I saw High School of The Dead. Then I realized I that I can handle just a bit more of the lurching, rotting masses and our ceaseless battle against them.

High School has a very basic plot. It opens with the aforementioned high school, and all the anime cliche characters we've come to expect to find in a secondary school in anime land. Then a man begins hammering at the school gates. When the PE teachers come to investigate, one of them is bitten by the man through the bars. And before you can shout 'Romero!', the zombie plague is inside the gates, and the high school suddenly has more problems than sexting and poor attendance. Seven minutes in, and the zombies are already attacking. No messing about here!

The animation is very high quality, with some interesting uses of light--the day actually goes from afternoon to twilight, with the colours changing as a result. The battle scenes are fun and imaginative, since many of these kids are martial artists and quickly use whatever they can to fight back with. There is also a wonderful feeling of not knowing who is going to survive this, with characters I was sure were heroes getting munched early on. There is that clash of tee-hee cutsey-ness we've seen before in high school anime with the constant spray of arterial blood from rampaging zombies, shown best in a scene with two giggling girls promising to be BFFs forever as they run, which quickly evaporates when one of them is caught.

There is a rather heavy emphasis on fan service here as well, which seems to be an economic necessity with anime aimed at older audiences these days. How you feel about this I'm sure is very dependent on whether you're male or not. It seems odd to have a charged scene where the characters are trapped by zombies, readying their makeshift weapons, when all of a sudden the camera swings around to aim its perspective up a character's skirt. But such is fan service, and such are fans.

As first episodes go, High School of The Dead doesn't disappoint. It's a very fun bit of modern anime, and I'm interested in seeing where it goes. You can watch the first episode for free here at Anime Network.

Alert! The Globe And Mail Now Tracks Science Fiction and Fantasy Sales! Alert! Alert!

2010-07-04T10:52:00.001-07:00

Vulcan Ninja insists I shouldn't even look at the Books section of The Globe and Mail, since I often will launch into a loud tirade against something I've read there, complete with cuss words and raised fists to an uncaring heaven. Yet yesterday when I turned to that most dreaded of sections, a strap of leather in my mouth to stop me grinding my teeth, I actually began to cheer.

The Globe and Mail now tracks Science Fiction and Fantasy book sales for the week.

I applaud this move. And I especially applaud the fact that it shows what the majority of sales are, not sales taken from some brave yet with a clear agenda independent bookstore. I have nothing against indy bookstores at all, but when I want to see sales figures nationwide for books, I want a general overview, not what six people picked up in a store the size of a van.

So now I have new figures to obsess over, since I love obsessing over sales figures for books, comics, or video games. Vulcan Ninja does not share this, so this is what blogs are for.

Of the top ten, four are Star Wars books from the current Fate of The Jedi storyline, coming in at #3, #6, #7, and #10. Canadians do love their Star Wars. Since I stalled reading this series way back in the New Jedi Order, I have no idea what's going here. I suspect there are lightsabers and Jedi running around in robes, which, really, is enough of a sell point for me. But I'd feel like I cheated if I didn't wade through the rest of the NJO first, so it may be awhile before I get to these.

#9 is John Ringo's Eye of the Storm, a military sci-fi book. This is apparently Book Eleven in a series, which I find heartening. Canadians apparently like to get in on a series for the long haul, which may explain why we also love Steve Erikson.

#8 is a Transformers book, Exodus by Alex Irvine. This is the Official History Of The War For Cybertron. And it's hardcover. And it's Number 8 in Canada. Oh, nation of sweet geeks.

#5 is Flinx Transcendent, by the eternal Alan Dean Foster. I haven't read a Foster since Splinter of The Mind's Eye. Apparently, others have.

Another military science fiction series hits #2, Mission of Honor by David Weber, another book in his Honor Harrington series. I have the very first Harrington book, On Basilisk Station, but have yet to crack the cover. I want to, and since my book club is chewing over reading this one, I may before summer's end.

And of course #1 goes to Stephanie Meyer with her alien series The Host. Many may howl at that, but at least people are reading, and from those who know of such things, this is supposed to be better than her Twilight series.

So what does this tell us about Canadians? We like long series, we like our media tie-ins, and we like a military flavour to our science fiction. Many people will see a list like this and feel the end is nigh, but I always feel good when people are reading, when I see authors making money, and I see readers develop loyalty to a series or author. Not my usual blackened cynicism, but I've learned to grasp hope when I see it.

Anyway, I think this is a great thing the Globe is doing. Sure, The New York Times has been doing it for awhile, even going so far as to track manga sales, but it's promising first step.

If you have time, fire off an email to the Globe to thank them. The email address is focus@globeandmail.com.

Useless Animals

2010-06-27T10:12:00.000-07:00

I remember reading about a novel once that told the story of a writer who had given up writing. There is nothing groundbreaking about that, since writers give up the most thankless of crafts every second of every day. But his reason was that the world was in such a horrible state that he couldn't bring himself to create fiction, to waste the energy on it, since it clearly didn't matter. He was stuck in a state of non-doing, because to write would be an act of selfishness, when all energy should be pointed towards solving the world's problems. And since no man alone can do that, he did nothing.

Lately, I can empathize. The Gulf of Mexico apocalypse seems to me the beginning of the final act of our time here. It's an environmental fuck-up that is undeniable to nay-sayers who have made a career out of dismissing global warming, who can wave away numbers and studies as being biased and the work of hippie interest groups. But it's a little more difficult to use rhetoric against burning dolphins and sea turtles, against struggling birds dying in oil. Granted, they've tried--dropping to the meagre defence of the importance of maintaining oil industry jobs to continue off shore drilling, but that must sound hollow even to those Republicans full on BP's Christmas card list.

The simple truth that this is our only planet--and we have nowhere else to go-- doesn't faze most of humanity. Someone will make it right, so why worry? We can do what we want, and we have the religion and/or the family values to justify our selfishness. We imagine we have rights to any cruelty we perpetuate. Animals are dying in an oil slick? Well, that's okay--they don't have souls. They can't feel pain. And why are they swimming near our oil rig, anyway? It's not like there aren't millions of dolphins and stupid sea gulls anyway. And when does the golf start?

Even here in Hobbiton, this attitude reigns supreme. The shelters are bursting with abandoned animals because people are too selfish to have their pets fixed, or are dumping them because caring for them cuts into their beer money. What does it matter? They're only animals, and fuck, I wanna get that sweet ass tattoo I saw that guy had on UFC. I needs my money for that.

And to think that this in an injustice that will be rectified through education is to chase unicorns: this is the society governments want. You want your populace to be selfish and short thinking, to not be able to see past their own bill payments and paycheques. Things can quickly become untenable if compassion begins to take root. People start questioning then, start thinking outside themselves, and that's the last thing you want when maintaining power. Better to keep everyone just wanting stuff, filling their TV sets with greed inducing commercials, making people think turning their lawns into living rooms is a good idea, creating inferiority complexes based on body image that can only be rectified with weight loss programs and not simple willpower, to point out the lack of perfection in their lives with images of sunlit, massive kitchens accompanied by eternally smiling Stepford mates and children.

In this way, everyone just keeps buying stuff they don't need, and the wheels keep turning, and the weekend is only a few days away.

And still the animals die. And still pets find themselves in stinking cages, surrounded by misery, or shivering outside at 2 a.m., hungry and scared, wondering why they can't find their home. From this micro to the macro of the Gulf, it continues, all across this wonderful planet. Our needs will stand paramount, until the last animal is gone, the last bit of wild paved over, the last songbird shot.

And then we'll turn on each other.

So why, in light of this, should you do anything for the world? Why create? Chances are there will be no-one with the attention span to read a story, appreciate a painting, or watch a film that doesn't involve boobs and explosions in ten years anyway. Sure, they'll be buying lots of things, like lawn furniture made of real oil soaked dolphin skin straight from the Gulf, or commemorative plates from the assassination of the next Enemy Of Freedom. But thinking? That will be bred out of them, cut away like a useless vestigial tail, with families sitting around to watch seven minute long reality TV shows, with the kids complaining that the show is too fucking long.

And so here I sit, on a Sunday afternoon, looking at the novel I'm writing, images of G20 protests and dead dolphins on the screens behind me. And I'm reminded of another story, this one by Harlan Ellison, who wrote about the last storyteller, about a man who spent his final days telling stories to a wasteland, to anyone who would come and sit by his campfire. And this seems a better fit, a more sane approach. As the last songbird will sing before the bullet hits, as the last dolphin will play before it swims into the oil, I'll write before I'm silenced forever, just as anyone who has a talent or gift should keep using it, even if the world has and never will care.

I'll just be another useless animal, doing what I was born to do, as the smoke fills the sky.

Because It's The World Cup, That's Why

2010-06-21T15:27:00.000-07:00

And I like to support the fans.

What Tony Stark Said Next!

2010-06-20T10:30:00.000-07:00

Slowpoke here finally got around to finishing the SIEGE mini-series, which brought to a thankful end the Norman Osborn Crazy Days uber-story that's been running through the Marvel Universe for the last thirty years or so. I enjoyed it, since it understood it had to be both emotional and feature lots of punching. It did both, even if the set-up for the next big thing, THE HEROIC AGE, felt tacked on at the end. (Seriously, they would have a wine and cheese party the same day that Asgard fell, Thor kills the Sentry, and untold Asgardians were murdered? Maybe not wait until the weekend?)

What really caught my attention, though, was what happens to Avengers Tower.

When the Sentry joined the team, he slapped this goth Christmas celebration on top of the Tower, since he's the Sentry and he can bloody do whatever he bloody well feels like. I liked the glowing ball on top, and liked how the shape was vaguely unsettling. But now that the Sentry is dead(ish), the bauble is gone. Thor apparently thought the Tower was lacking a certain je ne sais quoi, so he slaps up a piece of Asgardian masonry on top of the building. He makes a speech about how it symbolizes the connection between Earth and Asgard, since the superheroes went to bat to try and save Asgard, and he really appreciates it, so here's some masonry.

To my mind, it looks ridiculous. But the story ends with everyone thinking it's cool, or at least not saying anything to Thor. I mean, the guy's had a bad day, let it ride.

But this lead me to thinking about what happened next. After the party, after everyone had gone home to write HEROIC AGE STARTS NOW on their kitchen calendars....

TONY: Jarvis, can you come here for a second?
JARVIS: Sir.
TONY: Hey, how ya doin'?
JARVIS: As well as can be expected, sir. What with the Skrull business, and all that unpleasantness that followed, and my gout has been ac---
TONY: Hey, I hear ya. Hey, you see that thing Thor slapped on top of the Tower there?
JARVIS: Hard to miss it, sir.
TONY: What do you think of it? I mean, complete honesty.
JARVIS: I believe it is a pillar from the Asgardian Battle Vaults, sir, one of the few remaining intact pieces of Asgard. I think Master Thor has honored us in ways we--
TONY: Yeah, I don't like it, either. It's like he had this thing laying around, and had to put it somewhere.
JARVIS: One would think we would be honored, especially in light of certain people's activities over the last two years...
TONY: Yeah, well, I noticed too that Carol Danvers was a little cold to Thor. Didn't even hug him or anything. Come to think of it, she didn't hug me either when I saved everyone from Osborn by destroying my brain. I think that deserves a least a little sugar.
JARVIS: Sir--
TONY: So, look, here's the thing. I can't take down that rock without Thor getting all huffy and puffy, all thees and thous shall not, so I want you call this designer I know in L.A. Have her sex it up a bit. Throw some lights on it, have them flash in Kree or something. Something about peace and friendship. Or Kim Kardashian's phone number. I don't care. No one except internet dweebs speak Kree, anyway.
JARVIS: If that is what Sir wishes...
TONY: Yeah, it totally is. And make the lights blue. That will look awesome at sunset. And hey, before you go, I didn't see Natasha here tonight. You give her a call, tell her I want to have breakfast with her in Paris tomorrow, and we can leave tonight?
JARVIS: (sighs) Of course, sir. Anything else?
TONY: No, that will be enough for now. Oh, have you seen my copy of Cigar Aficionado anywhere?
JARVIS: The bathroom, sir. Good to have you back, sir.
TONY: Totally.

Of This, Hope. And Lots of Punching!

2010-06-16T18:33:00.001-07:00

Because I apparently am losing more time than an ADD watch, I only just got around to finishing reading Chris Yost's final issue of RED ROBIN.

Crazylegs got me into this title, for which my wallet curses him, because I'm trying to cut down on the funnybooks, not keeping adding more to to my monthly yank list. (Ed: I was going to change that last phrase, but you know? It kinda fits.) But RED ROBIN was pretty much a delight, with Yost delivering a solid adventure book each month. His final issue--RED ROBIN #12--was one of the best books I've read this year. R'as Al Ghul delivers a line to Tim Drake that made this ancient Batman fan actually feel warm inside. If you've read that classic Denny O'Neil/ Neil Adams storyline from the Seventies that involves a desert, scorpions and Batman and R'as having a good old swordfight, the line will probably make you smile as well.

This got me thinking about what makes great adventure comics. The one element I think they all need is a sense of hope, a sense that there actually is a struggle against evil here and that a brighter day may dawn if the costumed forces of Good win. RED ROBIN, which began its series with Tim Drake royally pissed at the world, turned around in a year to being about hope as Tim grew into himself and actually proved himself the equal of his father. The fact that Tim Drake is also one of comic's most likable characters also doesn't hurt, even after being around for--get ready for it--over twenty years. He still seems new to me, which maybe says more about me than about the character. Still, I've always liked him, since even his origin was about hope--of keeping alive the Batman and Robin mythos after the Jason Todd debacle. Which, if you remember, was all about being dark and horrid, trying to be deep post-WATCHMEN by completely misunderstanding what made that series great.

This is why X-MEN books often aren't enjoyable. There is really no sense of hope in those titles, only a sense of fragile peace before the Next Horrible Thing. Maybe that's why they are often not very satisfying reads, while RED ROBIN under Chris Yost always was.

Or maybe I'm just getting old. I want comics that make me feel that 'Wow!' burst of energy when I turn the page, that make me blink in surprise, that make me feel excited about the next issue. RED ROBIN did that.

And for that, I thank Chris Yost for a year of great comics.

Crossing The Nerdicon

2010-06-07T16:01:00.001-07:00

So last night, Vulcan Ninja and I were preparing to retire. Her weapons had been hung with care, and I had quietly put away my attempts to explain The Trial of The Time-Lord through interpretative dance. I had just climbed into bed beneath the Batman duvet when Vulcan Ninja stopped in the doorway.

"I'm not coming to bed just yet, " she said. Detecting an uncharacteristic sheepish tone, I looked over at her.

"What did you say?"

"I--I've got to finish this puzzle thing. " She averted her eyes. "I didn't know it was a five part thing, and that I couldn't save. It'll take me five minutes."

Let me explain. Whilst listening to a 1up. podcast two weeks ago, I had heard the hosts squeeing over a puzzle game for the DS called Picross 3D. Knowing that Vulcan Ninja would also squee over it--since she adores puzzles of all sorts-- I showed it to her at FutureShop the following Saturday. After spending her usual eight minutes giving the game her Paddington Bear stare, turning it over, reading every single word written on the box, she bought it.

I have not touched the DS since.

"Let me get this straight," I said from the bed. "You are staying up late--past midnight--to play a video game."

"I just didn't know you couldn't save. I don't want to go through all of it again. It's like half an hour."

"But let's get this straight. You are staying up late to finish a game."

Silence.

"You're crossing a line," I said, triumphantly. " A line that cannot be uncrossed. A nerd line."

Defeated, she sighed. "I know."

I rarely have such triumphs.

"I just want you to realize what you're doing, " I said, then curled back into bed, knowing full well the shock the universe was now experiencing. I was in bed, Vulcan Ninja was up, alone in the living room with only a computer game for company.

In some part of the world, I'm sure rivers were running backwards and chickens were flying over the treetops. The natural order had been upset. And maybe--just maybe--a red phone was ringing in Nintendo HQ. And perhaps--just perhaps--there was a board meeting today with several black suited and somber Nintendo executives, and at one end of the long oak table, a man stood up and announced "We have achieved our aim with the introduction of the DS, my friends. We have succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. Vulcan Ninja stayed up late with Picross 3D. "

The applause possibly--just possibly--lasted for fifteen minutes.

All I know is that I slept like a baby, smiling all night.

Carbonite Dreams

2010-05-25T16:16:00.000-07:00

In honor of International Geek/Nerd Day, I offer up this small theory regarding the Star Wars films. This came to me fully formed, so much so that I have spent time searching the innerwebtubes to see if someone else had come up with first. If so, then I bow to their genius, for it has lain in my subconscious like a nerdbomb, only exploding last night.

Therefore, let me posit this: That the Star Wars films ended with The Empire Strikes Back. The following film--and so far the concluding chapter of the entire saga--The Return of The Jedi--never happened.

In fact, Return of The Jedi was nothing more than Han Solo's dream while he lay encased in carbonite.

There is a surprising amount of evidence to support this.

On a purely cinematic level, Return simply doesn't fit with the narrative direction the series had taken. With A New Hope, there was a general sense of optimism and adventure to the film, where any losses the characters endured (death of relatives/planet/Jedi mentor/evil space station) were relegated to a few seconds of said characters looking sad before carrying on as if nothing had happened. A New Hope wasn't about the cost of relationships, about death, or anything related to maturity. It was an adventure for young children of all ages, both for the viewers and the characters on-screen. To that end, it succeeded very, very well.

The next film in the series, The Empire Strikes Back, takes a more mature perspective. The very title of the film indicates this story is about consequences. After destroying the Death Star and putting a dent in the Empire's fortunes, our heroes now have to deal with what happens next.

The first big battle in the film on the snow planet of Hoth serves a great contrast to the war over the Death Star: gone are tiny ships flying over a grey, industrial space station, replaced with real human beings fighting a trench battle against overpowering machines. There is no last second heroics of Luke Skywalker to save the day this time--in fact, his actions barely make a difference at all. This time, our heroes face defeat, and instead of victory, have to hope to escape.

In contrast to New Hope's focus on adventure and optimism, Empire deals primarily with pain. There is the physical pain of Luke surviving the encounter with the Wampa, Chewbacca and Han being tortured by Imperial forces on Bespin, and back again to Luke when he loses his hand to Vader in the film's climactic lightsaber battle. There is also the emotional devastation suffered by Leia and Chewbacca when Han is encased in carbonite and taken away by Boba Fett, and Luke's horror at realizing who his father is. Yet even before such obvious traumas, there is the undercurrent that runs through the film of our heroes simply worrying about each other.

For example, take Han Solo. Han worries about Luke when he doesn't return from patrol on Hoth, Han worries about rescuing his friends from the Imperial blockade, Han worries that he's made the right decision by trusting Lando, and even when he's facing possible death, Han worries about the fate of Leia and Chewbacca moreso than his own. Like everyone else in Empire, he is a man under great and telling stress.

Which is what growing up is about. After the childhood of A New Hope, Empire showed us the cost of friendships, it showed us how not to be selfish, and most of all, it showed us that there is a cost to everything. The Empire Strikes Back is a film about growing up, about starting to see the world with true eyes, about the adolescent realization that maybe the world isn't always a storybook that ends happily every time.

So, then, Return Of The Jedi should have been a film for adults. A movie that elaborated on the themes of cost, of having our heroes make decisions that they would not have been capable of in A New Hope, since both they and their audience had grown. Our heroes would now be more mature, both in terms of their relationships with each other and the problems they faced against the Empire. While still fun and entertaining, Return should have been the final counterpoint to the youth of the first film, a darker core to the story balancing both the series and the characters' growth.

Well, as we know, it wasn't. It had teddy bears and improbable revelations, slave girl outfits and ludicrous escapes. Return seemed horrified by the decisions made in Empire, and then fled screaming back to the playroom of A New Hope, slamming the door against the narrative demands made by the previous film. It aborted any movement forward, throwing cute at viewers who should have been ready for grand storytelling on an emotional, Arthurian level.

Which is why I like to think it simply didn't happen. That Han dreamt the whole damn thing.

Now that makes more sense than trying to accept Return as the next logical step in the series. As Han was flashfrozen in the carbonite slab, we've already seen how stressed the poor man was. So upon entering a dream state, his first thoughts would turn to his friends. Looking at Return in that way, it all makes sense.

THE RESCUE

Who else would Han have rescue him than Leia? It would prove how much she cared for him, and in the guise of a bounty hunter, the same mercenary scum who caught him in the first place? There is some deep, deep psychology there.

As for the slave outfit, well, Han's a guy. And since Leia is all about reserve, and the slave girl outfit isn't, it makes sense. And did I mention that Han's a guy?

As for the battle on the skiff, the clumsiness of Luke using his Jedi powers can be explained by Han's lack of understanding of the Force. As far as we know, Han has never met any of the 'powered up ' Jedi from the first trilogy, so he's never seen any of the derring do and high flying bullshit the old Jedi could deal out. Han has seen Luke wear a blastshield and swipe at a targeting ball. He may have heard a bit about Luke's summoning of the lightsaber on Hoth, but for the most part, Luke is still just a 'kid' to Han. So even if he's a Jedi, he's still that little whiny brat he picked up on Tatooine. He's never going be a threat to Han's own awesomeness.

And the rescue of Lando? Just Han telling himself how he is the better man. He would never turn his back on a friend, even if Vader had him by the scruff of the neck and his toes were scrabbling above the ground. Rescuing him from the Sarlaac just proves that point.

THE DAGOBAH SCENES

These could be problematic, since Han has never met Yoda or perhaps even heard of Dagobah. But...but... Yoda did look into the future in Empire and told Luke of what could transpire if he chose to go to Bespin. Yoda would have had to see Han and Leia in that vision, and perhaps that small contact left a mark on Han's subconscious. I'm going with that.

THE BATTLE FOR ENDOR

Again, Han shows his love of Lando as he envisions him as the one who destroys the Death Star, redeeming him from his betrayal on Bespin. Han chooses to go with Luke and Leia to Endor itself, both because he misses Luke (having not seen him since Hoth) and because this gives him more alone time with Leia. Chewbacca and the droids come along because they are really the only family Han truly has, so it's vacation time in the forest world.

Forests have great psychological value in dreams, being places of mystery and discovery. Here's where it get weird.

Perhaps because of the discomfort of carbonite, Han's subconscious begins to seek comfort from his childhood memories. Perhaps he had a teddy bear as a kid on Corellia, or even a stuffed Ewok doll. (Or knowing Corellians, a real stuffed Ewok.) So he populates the forest with them, and even has C-3P0 tell them bedtimes stories. Having created the perfect childhood playground, Han's turns his thoughts towards towards Leia and Luke again. In a discussion with Leia, he again does the right thing when he offers to step aside if Leia is in love with Luke. Han will simply not betray a friend. He then 'reveals' to himself that Luke and Leia are both brother and sister, primarily because he met the two of them at the same time (within hours, apparently) and they already shared a previous connection (Luke was trying to rescue Leia) that predates his ties with Leia himself. This also highlights Han's unease with his relationship with Leia, which can be traced back to his light hearted questioning about the feasibility of a relationship between the two of them seen in A New Hope. (Han asks Luke if he thinks a guy like him and a princess could work, which Luke quickly answers in the negative.)

The battle to get into the field generator--which is all about getting doors to open so that Han can lay a charge inside--speaks for itself.

In the end, the Empire is defeated by Han's friends, with the destruction of the Second Death Star seemingly being the final blow to an empire who still realistically has an entire galaxy under its control. This bit of unreality is just Han wrapping up the story for himself the way a child would, with fireworks and dancing bears. In the end, everything is as Han would have wanted it: his friends safe, his enemies gone, and the woman of his dreams warm in his arms.

While in reality, he still lies embedded in carbonite, in the dim light of Jabba's throne room.

At least, in my version he is....

Drinking The Kool-Aid With G.I.Joe

2010-05-23T07:34:00.000-07:00

So after almost a year, I thought I'd sit down and watch G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra. It's the long weekend, after all, and if this isn't the time of year to make bad decisions that you regret almost instantly, then when is it?

So it is with much concern for my well being and critical faculties that I must report that, over all, G.I. Joe isn't bad. In fact, when putting this film up against The Phantom Menace, it comes across as a cinematic gem. Even without taking my customary potshot at the worst of all Star Wars movies, G. I. Joe is actually quite enjoyable.

Of course, going in with no expectations outside of seeing a travesty may have helped, or that may just be me holding onto some shred of indie geek cred. The worst part of the film had to be the shoe-horned in alleged comedy of Marlon Wayans, but even that wasn't as teeth grindingly bad as I had feared. So, you see, it does help to always expect the worst.

Over that past two years, I have become a bit of Joe fan, reading most of what IDW puts out. I know the characters enough to know where the film deviated a bit (the Baroness is all out evil, which is why she's so hot, but Sienna Miller's version isn't so blackhearted, opting instead for more sarcasm than we see in the books--and it works)

But over all, the film revels in its sheer ridiculousness and Saturday afternoon feel. Of course there are top secret organizations like the Joes that you can just kinda join if they like you enough. Yes, there are secret bases the size of small town buried in the Egyptian desert Yes, an evil criminal can build an entire underwater city in the Arctic and no-one will notice. Yes, Joes can jump into jets they've never seen before and fly them. Yes, if you have two ninjas in a film, of course they have a backstory that involves a dead master. And most of all, you can destroy most of Paris without apparently hurting a single civilian.

So, stupid, but fun. And in what maybe the last time anyone takes anything I say seriously, I'd have to recommend the film to my friends. Yes, the old age has finally taken it's toll.

But killing Cover Girl? That shit was a mistake.

The First Rule of Etrian Odyssey Is You Don't Talk About Etrian Odyssey....

2010-05-18T16:08:00.000-07:00

...you blog about it because that's the sort of sad geek you are.

I knew Etrian Odyssey II was going to slap me. I knew going in that it proudly carried such descriptors as 'hardcore' and 'old school'. I knew that such RPG luminaries as Kat Bailey had bowed out from its merciless gaze.

I knew all this. In fact, I even looked forward to it.

I know better now. I have the curse words and tears to show for this hardfought wisdom.

Let's just say that, yes, EO is indeed worthy of the the adjectives it carries like gang tats. While you do have to map your progress through the various dungeons (which, perversely, are outside), it isn't as diabolical as I thought it would be. The game auto-charts your progress, turning areas green as you traverse them, it's up to you to whip out the DS stylus and draw in walls and add various tags delineating what you find in each room. You can also add notes yourself. (Many of mine consist of warnings in all caps of DO NOT FUCKING GO IN THIS ROOM! DO NOT TOUCH THAT GLOWEY THING! THIS IS WHERE D-CUPS DIED!)

(Yes. D-Cups. I had run out of X-Men names.)

The game gives you a little slack with the mapping. But that's where the charity ends.

As you enter the dungeon, you will be hit very hard by the monsters. Very hard. You will spend your first few hours simply running for your life, racing back to the dungeon entrance. Going back into town, I found I usually only had enough loot to resurrect my dead party members before being forced to go back into the dungeon, because I didn't have enough money to do anything else.

In one case, I had to actually sell my character's armor so I could pay for his revival. Because here's your first EO Bitchslap: Resurrections not only cost you, but so does the simple act of sleeping, which is the easiest way to recover your HP. And...AND...the price varies on your party level. So if you go running back to town, the back of your armor wet from fear, thinking Great, I've got five en (the game's version of gold), I can get a room for the night, get a full heal, start up again in the morning, man I think I can do this fucking right I can, the cherbuic inn owner will smile and tell you the price for a night's kip is now twenty en. Oh, you can't afford to stay here? Back in the dungeon you go, loser.

Another EO Bitchslap awaiting you is your first boss. The bosses in this game are represented by red glowing balls, that you innocently walk up and hit to reveal what murderous nightmare from hell is patiently waiting inside. Since the first Boss Ball was relatively close to the dungeon entrance, I thought, Hey, my characters are 4th level, think I can take this baby boss, and walked up and went tap.

Total Party Kill.

Start again.

Another nice little treat is how the game misleads you. For example, the angelic owner of the trading spot, upon hearing of my venturing into the dungeon, told me I should probably get this little thing she had for sale. A little thing called a Warp Wire, which she assured me would bring me back to the town toot suite from the bloodshed and despair of the tree lined, sunlit dungeon.

After agonizing over the price (100 en!), I ponied up and bought it. This left me with 6 en to my name, which wasn't enough to get a lice ridden bed for the night, or even a cheap resurrect from the more humane doctors at the hospital. Still, I had this cool Get Out Of Eternal Pain ticket. Should pay for itself after two or three uses, easy.

Back into the dungeon. In due course, I had run across some monsters and most of my characters were red lining. I click on Items, activate my Warp Wire, and find myself safely back in the village. I heal up, then head back in. Once again, more bloodshed ensues, my characters beseech the heavens for mercy, and I go to get the Warp Wire.

Gone. It was one use only.

This is where I said 'motherfucker!' so loud Vulcan Ninja looked up from her crossword and frowned.

"Nothing," I said, waving my DS stylus in frustration. "It's nothing. It's just this fucking game."

She went back to her crossword. I went back to trying to get my characters out of the dungeon alive. And, despite everything, I smiled.

So this is how it's going to be, Etrian Odyssey? I thought. The RPG equivalent of Fight Club? All done with one of the most gentle, beautiful soundtracks I've heard in a game as counterpoint to all the screaming and gutsinking feelings as health points evaporate like new home ownership in a recession?

It's exactly what I've been looking for.

Iron Man 2: Proof That Nothing's As Good As Your First Time

2010-05-08T11:14:00.000-07:00

(Spoilers, but I'll try not to reveal anything important.)

Up early this morning to sit beside Vanessa to watch IRON MAN 2.. Thanks to LA Mood for having a private screening, which is really the best way to see superhero films: in a room with other people who actually want to see the damn thing.

So, let's get the bad news out of the way first:

THE BAD:

--An Unfocused Plotline.

There are two villains in the film--Justin Hammer, and Ivan Vanko--and the film focuses on the least interesting one the most. Mickey Roarke's Vanko (a.k.a. Whiplash) had some degree of depth to his character, with a refreshingly different motivation than most cookie cutter superhero criminals. Yet his time is very limited on-screen. (He actually gets the dreaded 'with Mickey Roarke' in the credits, the clear sign he isn't onscreen enough to justify a full credit.) Sam Rockwell's douchey Justin Hammer simply isn't as interesting, and what play he offers up as an irritating Eighties holdover living forever in Tony Stark's shadow runs dry very quickly.

As a nemesis to advance the storyline, neither one really does: Vanko isn't on the screen enough, and while Hammer is spread across the movie like a third rate sandwich topping, he spends most of his time doing nothing but relying on the same schtick over and over and over. Yes, we get it. You hate Stark. You're ineffectual. Your closet looks like it hasn't been added to since 1989. Let's move the fuck on.

As a result, the film, not being anchored by the centring threat of a villain, wanders around, wondering what to do with itself. There is a sub-plot of Tony being sick as a result of using the Iron Man suit, which leads to one of the the most inane scenes in the film: a battle that is both uncharacteristic of Tony Stark and almost everyone else involved. It feels like it was shoe-horned in because someone noticed how the script had gone ten pages without a fight, and felt this should do the trick. It doesn't, and sticks out like the worst script by committee moments I've seen in a long time.

--Too Many Damn AC/DC Songs.

One of the best things about the original trailer for IRON MAN was the use of Black Sabbath's song of the same name. Here, the producers have rustled around the $1.99 bin of eight tracks and unearthed some 'classic' AC/DC songs to pump up the volume, as it were. In my opinion, AC/DC have five great songs, none of which appear here. And I highly doubt Tony Stark even listens to AC/DC. In fact, of the entire cast, I can only see Justin Hammer cranking this in his Hummer, where, you know, he totally gets hummers. From girls.

--Too Many Damned Explosions.

The Final Showdown has a lot of these. I'm not a fan of the Bruckheimer school of filmmaking that requires at least ten big blow-ups every minute, or it's not a real Final Showdown. Is there someone who actually likes them? Is there someone, somewhere, who hops up and down in their seat at every conflagration, cheering each time? If so, he must always be a happy man/woman, since Hollywood seems only to make films for them. Instead, I just feel slightly cheapened, like I've spent the last eight hours of my life watching shitty VHS copies of Dukes Of Hazzard.

--Not Enough Black Widow.

While Natasha Romanov is in the film, essentially in walk on/ walk off scenes, she is only dressed as Black Widow in two scenes, and only fights in one. In fact, she's not even called Black Widow. And she doesn't use her Venom Sting bracelets, but instead uses Bond like gizmos to achieve the same effect. But she's wearing the bracelets. She just doesn't use them. Which, you know, is bullshit.

--Olivia Munn

Yes, she's in it. With a few lines of dialogue, which I'm sure AOTS promoted heavily for months. God, she irritates.

THE GOOD

--The Cast

Everyone here works in their roles. While I still don't know why Don Cheadle was put into the Rhodey role, he carries himself like he was in the first film, and fuck you if you say otherwise. The bickering between Gwyneth Paltrow's Pepper Potts and Robert Downey Jr.'s Stark is even more enjoyable in the second film than the first. As for Downey Jr., he's more relaxed in the role this time around, and he's pretty much a delight each time he's on screen. Mickey Roarke's Whiplash is scummy and slimy, but in a good, villainous way: he's a good contrast against the monied, designer conscious Tony Stark, with both of them equally as intelligent, perfect to set against one another. It's just a pity he's not in the film more. Even Rockwell's Justin Hammer is played well, but there's just too much of the same thing with him: it's not his fault, since that's the script they went with. Samuel L. Jackson picks up another paycheque as Nick Fury, and even though he comes across as less mysterious now, he's still welcome in any superhero film I see.

But the biggest surprise was Scarlett Johansen.

Yes, we don't see much of her as Black Widow, I mean, Natasha Romanov, but her brief battle scene was fun. For that scene, I forgot I was watching Scarlett Johansen, and instead was thinking what a badass the Black Widow actually is. The film could have used more of her kicking ass and stringing up bad guys, and I wonder if the inevitable solo film is already being discussed over cocaine lines and hookers somewhere. That might actually make up for Elektra. Well, maybe three Black Widow movies, written by Quentin Tarantino and directed by Robert Rodriques, with a brief, revealing shower scene in the final film. That would make up for Elektra.

--The Comic Nerdery

There's not an overpowering amount of that here, but there a few nice a-ha! moments. I won't spoil them, but they are there, and I did smile when I saw them. Suffice to say that the little hints of theAvengers film are already being laid. I also enjoyed the strong use of S.H.I.E.L.D. in this film, from Nick Fury's presence to the logo on Widow--I mean, Romanov's--shoulder.

--The Nice Touches

--Little things, like having a meeting between Iron Man, Wid--Romanov and Fury in a donut shop. The trouble with car doors in the first battle between Whiplash and Iron Man. The very physical aspect of Stark finding a cure for himself, in contrast to the usual keyboard tapping and looking seriously at numbers on a blackboard these sorts of scenes usually employ. The chemistry between Downey Jr. and Paltrow. And, finally, actually having the obligatory Stan Lee cameo be funny. And staying until the final credits played out, to see the scene in New Mexico, was also fun.

--Overall, then?

Worth seeing. Not as good as the first film, but still enjoyable. Jon Favreau knows how to direct a good superhero film, he has a great cast to work with, and the editing and special effects are top of the line. The only real letdown is the plot itself, which seems uncertain of which way to go, and finally just decides to have a big fight, almost out of desperation.

Whew. It's only May 8, and I'm already done my required summer blockbuster viewing already.

Stupid Playstation and Its Stupid Rules

2010-05-04T17:27:00.000-07:00

I was listening to Active Time Babble recently, and guest Jade Kraus went on at length about one of her favourite games, Final Fantasy 9. It was the sort of game that made her stop going to school and work until she finished it, and even to this day, she still goes back to play it every five months or so.

Wow, I thought. That must be some game. Then it hit me: I knew absolutely nothing about it.

This shocked me. It's akin to a Maple Leafs fan suddenly forgetting the entire 2006 season, or a Beatles devotee finding they have no knowledge of Abbey Road. I know video games. I know the Final Fantasy series. I had played FF 8, so why was there a blank in my head about this mysterious Nine?

Since we are gifted with interwebtubes, I went there and asked of it:" WTF is up with this shit? Why can't I at least come up with a single character or plot line from this thing? I can't even picture a Chocobo from it. What is up with that?"

The interwebtubes didn't know, but it did throw up the cover to the damn thing.

Then it clicked. I near to shrieked.

I pulled the tubewires off my head and ran downstairs to the basement. To the bookshelf where I keep the Old Games, the ones I have finished but shall never part with. And there, sitting directly beside Final Fantasy 8, sat FF9.

Unopened.

The memories came back in a gurgle of images and regrets. I remembered now. I had seen the game on sale, back when I was writing for the Free Press, when I had money to throw around and a retinue of giggling women following behind me, tittering at my every bon mot. I had seen the game, and picked it up, uncaring of the cost, tossing it over my shoulder to my literate harem, knowing that one day I would get to it. Probably after I won the Pulitzer and became the first hack humour columnist to get his own Sirius digital channel all to himself.

No wonder I had blacked it out.

So I ran upstairs, game in hand, and had to play it now.

I pulled the PS2 from the sea chest, blew off the dust,and fired it up. Slammed in the disc. Played with a smile on my face for about forty minutes. Then went to save.

Despair.

FUN FACT: Playstation One games do not save on PS2 save cards. No, they don't.
I tried. Repeatedly.

Convinced that the world did indeed hate me, that everyone was going to be happy except me, that I must have been a horrific monster in a previous life if this was the sort of karma I was getting now, I turned off the game and sulked like a motherfucker born to the trade.

The next night, Vulcan Ninja came up and showed me my old PS1 card. She had spent half an hour searching through the house, and knew it was important to me. She did not point out how many games lay unplayed in my possession. She did not upbraid me for a heavy bottom lip and kicking an empty can around the house for hours. She simply gave me the key back into the latest world I wanted to be a part of.

So, yes, Final Fantasy 9. I'm playing it. Along with Final Fantasy 13.

Thank God I'm already married to the right woman, alls I can say.

Finally! New Special Edition X-Files!!!!!

2010-05-02T15:50:00.000-07:00

I was such a big nerd for X-Files back in the Nineties, drawn so hard into the world of conspiracy theories and weirdness that I even co-wrote a book about the crazy things. The X-Files was more to me than a TV show--it opened the back door to so many things I had never thought of before.

I saw so much of myself in Mulder, and wanted to see more of me in Scully. But as the show began to stumble, fluffing their way through more sticky and complicated storyline, my interest began to wilt. When The X-Files finally sighed its last, I knew its true glory had been flushed away long ago.

Sure, there were the movies, but they missed the point. It was clear everyone was just doing it for the money, shot through with a sense of fatigue. I couldn't even bring myself to see the last one, knowing that the X-Files glory I was looking for had been holed a long time ago. Sometimes, you just can't fix what's been broken.

But now I hear they've done another film. One that has even won awards! The Special Edition X-Files looks just like what we've been missing: classic Mulder and Scully action, a deep, penetrating ancient mystery, and the sort of dialogue the show used to shine with:

"You do realize how hard it's going to be to prosecute Satan's whore?"

I have so missed that Scully!

I'm not sure why they're short forming 'Special Edition' the way they do, but it's clear the X-Files are back!

EDIT: Here is Kimberly Kane's acceptance speech for Best Actress at the AVN Awards. The speech is surely a first for content at AVN, and will guarantee Kane legions upon legions of nerdy RPG fans.

Delusions of Gaming Grandeur

2010-04-25T11:03:00.000-07:00

I had been under the impression that I was nearing the end of Final Fantasy XIII. At twenty hours, something in my muddled mind said the end was only hours away. Then, as I wondered what the third disc in my game set might hold if this alleged culmination of my fumbling use of Paradigm Shifts was within my grasp, I remembered:

The tutorial aspect of the game ends after twenty hours.

Still, I am enjoying the game quite a bit. I would gladly throw two of the main characters off a cliff and sleep well that night, though. Vanille is a horror show of cutesy, and Hope is a whining emo bastard who needs two weeks of solid ditch digging to knock the mewling out of him. Yet the main character of Lightning--seen above kicking government ass--and Fang (who I always think would smell of clove cigarettes) are some of the most engaging characters I've seen in awhile.

I've also been rocking Pokemon Heartgold, with now two Gym badges under my belt. I stand alone in my appreciation of this RPG with my more hardcore, heavy drinking gamer companions. The level of detail that is crammed into this game is a cheerful celebration of OCD. The Pokewalker is one of those rare gimmicks that is actually fun in and of itself. I'm not sure how much of a pedometer it actually is, but carrying it around with me surreptitiously throughout the day has won me some very nice loot drops and at least two caught Pokemon.

I have made it a point to follow some of the more, shall we say, involved Pokemon threads on sites like NeoGaf and Penny Arcade, and the level of dedication and complexity in this game still makes me smile.

I also have been playing Etrian Odyssey 2 on the DS.

This has been on my wishlist for awhile. I first heard about it on Active Time Babble, the superb RPG podcast on 1up.com. Etrian is said to be one of the toughest RPGs in the current generation, so of course I have to throw myself against it to see for myself. The hardcore element lies in the expected level of grinding, but also in the map-making you have to do as you traverse the dungeons. You draw the map on the lower screen of the DS, and if you make a mistake--like not putting a door where there is one, you can well and truly screw yourself over if you try to escape. It appeals to my nature to have to go over every single detail as I move my party through the dungeon, nerdily writing down everything I see, leaving the correct icons and making notes to myself. On top of that, healing seems to become more expensive the more times you make use of it. I think if the technology were available, Etrian would also shock you every time you died fighting, just to drive home the point that you suck.

It reminds me of 1st Edition Dungeons and Dragons, with that same feeling of 'You can die around any one of these corners' I remember from my sessions back in the Eighties. And I miss that degree of gaming sadism.

But my real joy lately has been playing Battlefield: 1943 with two of London's premier bloggers, Jim Dandy Goodness and Crazylegs of Theater of Cruelty.

I am not a shooter guy at all, but playing online with these two jokers has been incredibly conducive to me wanting to play more of them. But only if these two guys have my back. Instead of wading into the adolescent screaming and raging of most online games, it's fun to grab a tank and discuss London radio hosts while blowing shit up on Iwo Jima. Create an Xbox Live party, create our own squad, and we don't have to deal with all the screaming and howling from the raging masses of asshole kids. It's rather peaceful, in a way, like having a coffee with good friends, but with more sniping.

So that's where I'm spending my precious gaming hours. You?

Pokemon Sunday

2010-04-18T15:23:00.001-07:00

Why we don't get this--a show dedicated to Pokemon called Pokemon Sunday-- in North America makes me weep. I can't imagine any better way to deal with a post-Saturday night hangover than this.

Retro Sundays: The Legion of Super-Heroes #311 (May 1984)

2010-04-18T09:50:00.000-07:00

First, a little explanation on how Retro Sundays work. Every Sunday morning, I push myself out of bed, wave away the red wine hangover, and stumble down to the Comic Dungeon. I've picked a random longbox of comics, turned it around so I can only see the back of the comics when I lift them out. In that way, I don't know what each book will be each week until I turn it around. So I am not making any dedicated effort to read any title in its entirety. Whatever the next book is, that's what the next book is. There is no plan. There never is.

So, onto this week's book. Another Legion title, since I did get a little Legion mad back in the mid-Eighties. This is really a plot custodial issue, since two long running plotlines are wrapped up, but both in very different ways.

In the first story, while the rest of the Legion are en-route home from that business with Big Face Omen on Khundia, Brainiac Five tries to finally free Computo from inside the head of a little girl. Computo is the evil computer assistant Brainy made to help him out round the lab. That didn't work out so well. (see: Hank Pym and Ultron) The problem is, Brainy is all distracted thinking about Supergirl, so this allows Computo to make its move. This move includes smacking Brainy around like a rented mule, and as Bouncing Boy and Duo Damsel look on outside, results in the complete destruction of Legion H.Q.

But this is Brainiac Five. Turns out he had a plan. Unbeknownst to readers, he had a new containment system ready to go, and poor, circuit mad Computo got sucked into that during the explosion. Now he's the Legion's butler, and to show how grateful he is, he remakes the entire Legion headquarters in minutes. The story even ends with a panel of Brainy laughing at his awesomeness.

Very much a quick moving, Eighties style Legion story. It's great because the secret plan Brainy had is just so ludicrous, and feels like Levitz had had enough of the plotline itself and wanted it finished. Having a brand new H.Q. just adds to the idiocy, and the joy.

The second story also wraps up a plotline--this time Dawnstar's search for a mate. The art here is by Gene Colan, who I always associate with Marvel's horror titles like Tomb Of Dracula. It was bit of a shock to see him here, but I actually enjoy his artstyle moreso than Giffen's more stylized, rushed looking design.

Here, Wildfire tries to find Dawnstar by going to her home planet. He gets the cold shoulder from Dawny's old man, who wants his daughter to marry someone she can at least touch. Which when you're Wildfire, and you're made of anti-energy, a cuddle is out of the question. Still, he flies off to find her while her family shake their heads.

He finds Dawnstar near her namesake, that being the planet Venus. (Apparently, we Earthlings call Venus the 'dawnstar'. And now you know!)He interrupts her looking for a sign of her perfect boyfriend, and they shout at each other. She regrets that she can't touch him, but if she could, then her quest would be over. Then she realizes: Wildfire is her man. Screw all this flying around crap, looking at stars and nebulae.

She flies home and breaks the news to her parents. She even shares that 'the pleasures' she and Wildfire will 'never share' is worth it, because she values his love and friendship. If that bit of overshare wasn't enough, she also hints that maybe she'll get it on with someone else one day, or maybe not. Her parents, we assume,just stared at her.

Another niggly plot line tied up with a bow.

What made this second story more interesting is that Paul Levitz seemed to be pushing himself here, trying to write a more emotional story than you saw in other Legion stories. Take away all the trappings of beings of anti-energy, a Native American girl with wings who can fly through the stars, and the strength of this piece lay with the conversations between two people. Sure, it was cheesy, but was still affecting. While the end of the Computo story was concluded with a wink, this ends with the acceptance of a decision that can only guarantee more pain.

As well, the open acknowledgment of sexual activity was rare in mainstream comics back then, and it was handled here with grace. Compare this with Buffy The Vampire Slayer #34 to see how times change.

Retro Sundays: The Legion of Super-Heroes #310 (April 1984)

2010-04-11T15:01:00.000-07:00

This is the issue we've--well, I've been--waiting for all week. The throwdown between Omen and the Legion!

You know the shit is going to fly just from the cover. Clearly, Omen has microwave powers, and he's just getting warmed up!

Get it? A microwave warms things up, and that's what those...

Ahem.

After two issues of the Prophet taking turns wringing his hands about Omen and smacking the Legion around, we finally get to meet His Omen-ness. He seems to be one of those eternal, all-powerful types who just wander around the universe. You know, like Galactus, the Beyonder, and Lady Gaga.

Even though we just saw the Prophet smack Timber Wolf down for trying to kick him in the face--and the Prophet has made it clear Omen is far more powerful than he is-- Ultra Boy tries to punch him in the face. With this level of intelligence, you can tell Brainiac Five must play a lot of chess on his own in the Legion rec-room. (Which I like to think has orange shag carpeting.)

The Khunds are getting very Khundish about the Legion fighting this yellow faced, no-eyed eternal dude, saying this is an 'internal' issue that only Khundia will deal with. My respect for the Khunds' government planning was about to rise, since I don't think any other planet in the UP has a Wandering Eternal Dude policy in place, but no! Turns out Omen is there for a reason, one which the Legion soon discovers.

Turns out the Khunds are making a negaton bomb. Invisble Kid explains that this bomb is the sort that can 'harness the energy of a dimensional hole'. Omen needs that energy, because....well, he just does.

He then knocks the Legion out--except for Dream Girl, whose prophetic power let her know he was going to do that. She doesn't warn anyone else, though, which makes me like her a bit more. She's also at the controls of the negaton bomb, which I assume is because she had another vision that this might be the place to stand. Really, you don't need any other Legionnaires when Dreamy's around, do you? To stop Omen from getting the bomb, she sets it off, saying 'It's been a fun life'.

And that's how the Legion died, saving the universe from Omen. As a final book in the series, this was a shocker. In honor of the Legion, DC never brought them back, saying their deaths should have some form of narrative weight and....no, wait. That's not what happened.

Everyone lives! When the bomb goes off, it sucks Omen and Prophet away--but not the unconscious Legionnaires, oddly. There was a giant vortex when the bomb went off since Dream Girl is seen holding onto dear life to the control board, trying not to go where power hungry eternal wanderers go. I guess the Legion landed on some velcro or something. Maybe the Khunds kept the planet's supply of velcro beside the negaton bomb, just in case something like this happened.

Those Khunds! Always thinking!

But that's not the end of the surprises! In the rubble is the old Invisible Kid--he of the unfortunate headband-- who got blown back into this universe when the bomb went off. So now I'm hoping next issue has a knife fight between the two Invisible Kids, or maybe a street race, with Dream Girl waving the checkered flag. At least a battle of rock/paper/scissors when they're both invisible, just to even out the odds.

London, Ontario: Welcome To The Douchemouth

2010-04-05T10:51:00.001-07:00

The question that has been plaguing many of us for years now--Why are there so many douchebags in London?--may have finally been answered.

An ancient text was found buried beneath the asphalt of the parking lot at Clarence and King Street by an unemployed and possibly drunk archo-historian. Entitled The Origin of Douchery by Dr. Alphonse Dulac, ESQ., it appears to lay the blame for London's excessive use of hair product and rampant self aggrandizement at the doorstep of the mystical realms.

According to the text, London was founded atop a swirling morass of douchery called 'The Douchemouth' by the local wizards of the day. Its tendrils have been seeping into the air throughout our fair city like cheap cologne smelling fog, clouding the minds of the weak, making London's inhabitants make appalling fashion and life decisions for over a hundred years. Early manifestations of this douchery include refusing to see any Marx Brothers film because they were 'stupid', refusing to hire Walt Disney as a cartoonist for the London Free Press, and naming parks after Hollywood directors who haven't lived here for twenty years.

Yet now, in 2010, the Douchemouth has reached its apex, drawing terrifying strength from its thousands of willing acolytes. Fed by the self important aura emanating from the local University, the Douchemouth's power has spread to a degree not seen outside of Los Angeles or Rosedale. It has become so bad that even Toronto has begun to limit the number of Londoners who can visit, terrified the incoming douche levels will topple a city already on the verge of a Douche-apocalypse.

The Soldiers of Douche can be known through many means, but these are easy identifiers for those who are uncertain whether the Londoner beside them is a douche.

1. Driving a SUV the size of a small house in Thedford, talking on a cellphone while driving through stop signs.

2. Any woman with a tattoo on right above their spine, most notably if it is in the shape of a bullseye.

3. A complete collection of Nickelback CDs. (Burnt, not actually bought, because only losers buy music.)

4. A bright, red complexion generated by tanning beds and copious amounts of Labatt's Blue.

5. No sign of any books anywhere in their homes.

6. Complete knowledge of all the characters on Jersey Shore and/or The Hills.

7. The use of the following phrases:

a) But you know what?
b) That girl is so hot I would totally roofie her.
c)But I wanted a latte. This is so not a latte.
d)Hey, I got into Business Administration!

8. Having children solely so they can join mommy's support groups and/or because it's what you do.

9. Making those children take violin lessons so they can show off to their friends in the same mommy support groups.

10. An incessant need to be in some form of social interaction at all times.

11. A fondness for any sort of rock music with the 'EZ' prefix.

Many more tell tales do exist, and those concerned that they may indeed be douches are advised to take this highly researched medical quiz.

Those Londoners not affected by the Douchemouth are a hunted species, doing their best to hide their books and ungelled hair from the Croc wearing hordes.

"It's like Night of The Living Dead around here," one woman said, looking furtively around her. "Except these zombies smell like Polo."

"Polo was so last year," a woman in dark sunglasses and alligator skin said nearby, sipping from her Starbucks while texting on her Blackberry.

"Jesus, I didn't even see her!" the woman said, cranking a NPR podcast on her Ipod for as a protection charm before running off into the night.

Retro Sundays: Legion of Super-Heroes # 309 (March 1984)

2010-04-04T13:06:00.000-07:00

As I feared, we've hit a vein of LOSH. And we're right back with a crap villain and an even crappier bit of cover word play.

Now let's look at that cover. Look at the ponytail on the bad guy. No one on the Legion has thought of just grabbing that and yanking it? And isn't there an anti-douche law in the future that outlaws that sort of pretentious hair style? No, obviously not. Look at Shadow Lass. She apparently draws in her hair with black crayon.

Right, the story. Just kinda continues on from last issue, surprisingly. The Legion continues to try and punch Prophet Guy, and mostly don't. Even though it's been shown PG is rather cosmicy-powery, Timber Wolf still thinks kicking him the face might work. Oh, Timber Wolf. You fucking idiot.

It finally takes Invisible Kid to figure out the guy's weakness. It's a doozy. Skunk Fro deduces that Prophet doesn't just have red glowing eyes, but that they're actually reflecting the sun. And since Khundia's sun is in permanent eclipse (!), he must be getting his powers from somewhere else. I guess it makes sense if you're French.

So Shadow Lass actually earns her Legion paycheque this week and fires shadows into the guy's eyes, which mess him up. Who knew? By this time, the other Legionnaires have shown up, since the gormless Earth Ambassador who just wanted to hide them in a broom closet has changed his mind. Which is good, since now Omen himself makes his appearance, the bad guy the other bad guy said was coming. Well, now he's here, and he looks like a giant albino mannequin.

But before we move onto the second Legion story in this issue, there were two great ads in this comic. One was for Parker Brothers Arcade Series, which was an attempt to make boardgame versions of popular arcade games. The idea being that when you ran out of quarters, you could go home and keep your Q*bert skillz by playing it with dice. With a picture of gel-haired teen in dark sunglasses and a dog collar, there was this classic text beneath:

"After I spend 5 hours and 40 quarters playing Popeye, Q*bert and Pole Position in the arcades, I split for home. And not to watch some dork show on TV, either. I play more games. I've got the new Parker Brothers Arcade Series. They help me sharpen my strategies. Plus I can play them with all my friends. And beat them. Which is one thing I can't do in the arcades.

So get serious and pick up one of Parker Brothers' Arcade Series board games. Nothing is more totally awesome. Except me."

Beautiful.

The other ad of note was for the Zorcom Spaceship, which promised hours of fun. It was essentially a piece of fibreboard made to look like a spaceship that kids could crawl into. It offered a 'creative place'--meaning you could draw on the inside of it. Illustrated with an astonishing array of space graphics, you could stand it on its base for a play launch into a fantasy stratosphere.

The final story dealt with Karate Kid and Projectra having a honeymoon on some Fantasy Island like world called Luxuris. The art was by Pat Broderick, who must have had an off day. Projectra looks to be about sixty, and it looks she's renting Karate Kid for a little executive retreat action. They flop around on the beach, obviously trying to morph into the Beast With Two Backs, but are interrupted by an assassination attempt.

Turns out Projectra's cousin wants to kill her and Karate Kid for putting him in the slammer, so his brilliant plan is to threaten the horse alien who runs Luxuris to allow him to throw monsters at them. Not wait until the two are heavily involved in digging a rut in the sand and then maybe shooting them with a laser gun. No, he throws monsters at them. This ends in the inevitable confrontation between the evil cousin and Karate Kid, who opts to fight him in his Speedo. Projectra is conveniently knocked out at this point.

Evil Cuz fires a spell at Karate Kid, and either because he's awesome or magic moves real slow in the tropics, he's able to get around the Cuz and have him take the brunt of the spell. This turns him red and yellow, and after the expected threatmaking, he falls down a magic tunnel.

Kid asks Projectra what sort of magic that was, and she says she could care less. Bear in mind Kid's still in his Speedo when she insists she just wants to get on with her honeymoon. So, she was almost killed, her planet almost suffered an overthrow of government, and all she wants is those Speedos off now.

The horse dude is still standing there, with who knows what thoughts or hopes running through his head. I suspect he ran off to cue this up on the hidden palm tree speakers. It was the least he could do, since he was kinda involved in their near murders and stuff.

8 Hours And Temporal Change Into Final Fantasy 13

2010-04-02T10:15:00.001-07:00

I like games that make me feel vaguely competent, which is why I'm starting to really like Final Fantasy 13.

The criticisms leveled at this game--that it's too linear, that it takes too long to get going--are all valid, if you come into expecting another version of Final Fantasy 12, or yet another game aimed only at current FF players. While it's nice to feel all smug and cliquey when presented with a game system that only long time fans can make sense of, it will spell commercial death for the series in the long run.

Yes, there are a clutter of tutorials popping up quite a bit in the early hours. The option is there to skip them, but I've run each one because of my failing memory and the need to get every bit of gameplay out of something I've purchased. While the game techniques haven't changed that much, it was still fun to refresh my memory and see what new things have been added. While some FF fans may slap their hands to their faces in horror, I don't fully remember how to activate gestalt mode--in all truth, I had forgotten what it was. (Shriek!)

But even with the handholding and constant appearance of virtual blackboards and 'How To's, the visual beauty of the game makes up for any impatience you may experience. The eye-candy of the gameplay itself would have been only seen in cutscenes a few years ago, and as for the cutscenes themselves? Some of the cinematics are on a level with Cameron's Avatar for thrills. There is a scene (don't worry, no spoilers) that can be best described as the spaceship chase through Coruscant we really should have seen in the Star Wars prequels. It's just wonderful stuff.

The story is the same FF story we've seen before--(evil government forces with ulterior motive vs. our ragtag team of rebels, all fighting for their own reasons-- slapped with a fresh coat of obscure terms that mean nothing at first but then slowly make sense as events play out. As with most FF games, the world seems overpowering at first, almost too alien, but it all becomes clear as the plot threads weave together. Again, it's extremely emo and angsty, but that's what Final Fantasy does. You don't pick up a My Chemical Romance album and be disappointed because it's not Billy Bragg (at least, I hope you don't), so don't expect Final Fantasy to suddenly deliver the kitchen sink realism of a Mike Leigh film. Everyone here is pretty, doesn't get dirty, doesn't have to shower, and experience every emotion with a heartfelt purity most people lose after they turn 15.

There are also a lot of sunsets for people to look heroically into. There are also helpful winds to play character's hair around their faces to add that oh-so important follicular touch to their moments of deep contemplation.

Some of the characters can be irritating, but that's nothing new to the series. Vanille is the worst offender, being all perky kawaii optimism that really grates. She also runs like an idiot. Hope, a mopey 12 year old, also calls out for a Skip button. To the writers' credit, no one else seems able to stand him, either.

But what I'm enjoying most is the battle system. It starts so easy in the early going (just press Auto Battle!) that I felt like I was cheating the game by not setting up actions for each character. (There is that option, but you soon learn it's rather pointless. And since each battle is ranked by how long you take to finish it, it eats up precious seconds.) But around the four hour mark, the battle system expands to a Paradigm Shift mode. This is where the fighting becomes fun. When I finish a battle and get a five star rating, I start to feel that maybe, just maybe, I am a competent video game player. If there was a sunset available, I'd go stare into it.

Essentially, this is how it works:

Instead of just leveling up your character on one path like most RPGs, FF 13 allows you to level up on various roles. The initial choices are Commando, Ravager, Medic, and Synergist. Each Paradigm Shift is defined by what role each character takes within it. So in a Shift called Relentless Assault, everyone would assume combat roles like Commando and Ravager. If you're getting your ass handed to you, you pick a Shift that has a character take on a Medic role, casting Cure spells on the others while they focus on direct combat. Each Shift has the character's roles already set (so the heroine Lighting could be a Commando in one, a Medic in another, and so on), so you don't have to mess around with physically assigning them their role.

You quickly learn, though, that you can't just pick a Shift and sit back. As the combat becomes more complex, you have to leap from Shift to Shift, trying to determine what the best plan of attack will be. With each Shift being accompanied by a bright light show, exciting music, and of course, all out crazy ass fighting, it's quite a ride. When you die--and you do, often--the game offers you a Retry, starting you right back at the battle. Now, you can try different Shifts, seeing which works on what monster.

And then there's gestalt mode, but I'll talk about that later.

So those are my thoughts so far. And I'm sure no-one on the Net has written about this game, so I guess I'm the first!

Retro Sundays: Legion of Super-Heroes #308, February 1984

2010-03-28T14:12:00.000-07:00

So back again I go, deep into the subterranean vaults to unearth yet another oldey-timey comic. Blowing the dust off the longbox, I put back the Justice League Annual from last week, and pulled out the book directly behind it. And this is what it was:

A classic example of the Levitz era Legion.

Flipping open the cover, there was a delightful ad for the Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Video Game. Sigh. Compare with Dragon Age, and feel both in awe and old.

Onto the story. There appears to be some crazy man screaming about something or other on the planet of the Khunds. The Khunds, of course, were the Legion's answer to Klingons, the go-to bad guys when Darkseid was busy and Mordru had the White Witch to write fan-fic about. The crazy guy is convinced that the Legionnaires flying in above Khundia are demons, and tries to take them down with (apparently) every large gun on Khundia. The Legionnaires in question--Mon-El, Ultra Boy, Timber Wolf, Shadow Lass and Phantom Girl-- seem perplexed by this. This confusion may explain why they feel the need to tell each other how their powers work as they dodge the fusillade. But then the crazy guy really unleashes the shit, with his eyes turning red and green, and our heroes become silhouettes. So if you ever wondered what red and green eyes do, that's it. Silhouette power--activate!

Now we switch to another building on Khundia, where other Legionnaires are holed up with an Earth ambassador. He brought them with him as bodyguards, but now he just wants to keep them locked away before things get even worse. Dream Girl whines about how the Khundish atmosphere is messing with her hair. And back in 1984, we thought this was cute, because we all loved the drop dead sexiness of Dream Girl.

It was the Eighties, after all.

Anyway, Blok breaks some furniture, because that's what he does. Cosmic Boy--who I've never liked--thinks that the rumour that Legionnaires are attacking Khundia is just not on. I still don't like him, because common sense or no, he's always struck me as an ass-kissing douche bag.

Then we have another classic Levitz switch to Dawnstar, who is looking gorgeous in a psychedelic part of the cosmos. This is apparently the Dream Nebula, where 'it's swirling gasses seem to mirror the thoughts of sentient beings entering the area..." So, according to that, Dawnstar is stoned.

She's out to find her one true mate, which means flying across the galaxy and being angsty.I wonder if it's because there was just a shortage of Interlac dating sites in the future that made this voyage across the stars necessary. Ten minutes on the future version of E-Harmony, and Dawnstar wouldn't have had to leave Earth. Then she could go on the comm channels and star in commercials, hugging her new boyfriend in slow motion while gentle piano music played.

"I'm Dawnstar, and I never thought I'd find my true love. But with Interlac-Harmony, all I had to do was type in my super-powers, measurements, likes, dislikes, and what super-villains are currently out to kill me. Ten minutes later I had fifteen match-ups, and only five were serving time in Takron-Galtos! Thank you, I-Harmony, for making my dreams come true."

Anyway, back to the crazy guy on Khundia, who gives his origin story to the captive Legionnaires. Suffice to say he used to be holy, but he came into contact with something not holy, and now he's evil. Mon-El, bored out of his mind, breaks free and ploughs the guy somewhat good, but his return punch sends Mon-El through the wall, with three accompanying sound affects: WHUMP, WHOOSH and KRASHH.

Meanwhile, on Earth, Star Boy--rocking a beard!--moans about being on monitor duty and missing quality time with Dream Girl. Imagine--a lonely man surrounded by computer screens linked to every data system anywhere, and he has no idea what to do. Wildfire moseys in, looking to shoot the shit, and instead checks out the monitor board to see where everyone is. Now that I think about it, the Legion monitor board is a lot like Twitter. We get the 411 on everyone, but when Wildfire sees Dawnstar's Twitter update (Still looking for man in this galaxy who will love me lol omg ths is taking like 4ever!!!!), he has an attack of angst, which involves radiating black lines and clutching his fist.

Finally, the story ends with the crazy guy heralding the arrival of someone worse than him, some dude called Omen. I don't remember him, so I guess his badassery was over-rated.

End of story one, then onto a short story where Colossal Boy brings his new Durlan wife to meet his parents. At this point, the galaxy hates Durlans, since they're sneaky shapeshifters and greet visitors to their planet with death. The story has one good line. Colossal Boy, remarking on what it's like to be married to a shapeshifter, says 'Yera, you're too much. Some nights being married to you is like living in a three ring circus.'

Ahem.

The story ends with happy families, with Mom and Dad accepting the filthy Durlan into their lives. And since Mommy is the President of Earth, she's already known about the marriage because she abuses her power and has her secret police investigate her own son. Whether or not she records what goes on in his apartment is not discussed, for which we are eternally grateful.

This may be the first issue of several Legion of Super-Hero books. We'll find out more next week!

Could This Picture Be Any More Perfect?

2010-03-25T15:41:00.001-07:00

I really don't think so.

Retro Sundays: Justice League of America Annual 2 (1984)

2010-03-21T16:37:00.000-07:00

So I pushed past the giant cobwebs and headed down to the basement today. Walked over to the closest longbox, opened the top, and pulled the first comic out. And this is what I had in my hands.

I must have bought this at the old Comic Book Collector. I remember buying it more out of a nostalgia for the JLA than for any actual love of the current comic. (Even in 1984, I was nostalgic for the previous decade. I can imagine my 18 year old self bemoaning comics of the day, missing the glory days of 1973. How things never change.)

Flipping to the back cover, there is an ad for a video game called Bump'n'Jump. It's a racing game that proclaims 'To become king of the road you either bump 'em or jump 'em'.' Well, of course. Now I know that this was a port of the Japanese game that came out two years previous, where it was known as Burnin' Rubber. Huh.

Inside the front cover is an ad for Mario Bros for the Atari. From such low origins did our king arise.

Right, onto the comic.

This was written by Gerry Conway, who know makes his living producing Law and Order. The art is by Chuck Patton, and seems very much the sort of art I adored back then. Here, it seems the JLA satellite has been destroyed after a war with Mars, and Aquaman decides to just shut the whole shebang down. This was the era of the JLA when not having any really popular heroes on the team seemed like a good idea, and I think Aquaman was just speaking for the fans.

So he goes to the U.N. and addresses everyone that he's closing shop. Firestorm goes apeshit outside the U.N. and demands a vote. Aquaman then says, Okay, asshole, if you really want to do this JLA thing, you gots to show up every day and not fuck around in your own book. Well, he doesn't say exactly that, but it's he's saying between the lines. Firestorm is all hell yeah, I can totally give'er, until the Professor in his head nixes that idea. Those Leaguers without a life, though, quickly agree to join up. So here is the new League of People Who Can't Have Their Own Book:

1. Aquaman.
2. Martian Manhunter
3. Elongated Man
4. Zatanna.

If you were an alien despot, now is the time to invade.

So they set up shop on the 23rd floor of the New York Hilton while they search for new digs. There's a nice little nod towards the Avengers Mansion as Elongated Man comments "You know what midtown mansions go for these days?" Sue Dibny is apparently their waitress, handing out drinks and being freaked out by the Manhunter. Suddenly Zatanna shrieks! There's someone hanging outside the window! For fuck's sake!

Well, it turns out to be Vixen, who thinks a good way to join this new League is to make everyone chase her. She adds to her resume by tackling Aquaman. This is all she does. On that alone, Aquaman lets her join, rationalizing his clear obsession with her curves and hair beads by saying "...she certainly has style."
That, and they need new members. You may laugh, but we're not at the end of the comic yet. It gets better.

Presto! Steel then appears and offers to take them on a jet ride to a potential new headquarters. They agree to go check it out. Just. Like. That. Turns out the new digs are in Detroit. And now they have a base, and apparently Steel is a member, too. So, to join the JLA in the mid-Eighties, all you have to do is a)attack an existing member or b)let them bunk at your place.

Inside the base there is a killer robot thingie that Steel quickly pounds the stuffing out of. Turns out it's actually a friend of Steel's old man--Dale Gunn. He's middle aged, real smart, and designed this joint. Right away, Zatanna and Vixen are making googly-eyes at him. (Gunn is a spitting image for artist Chuck Patton, by the bye, which if I were the artist, I would have totally done the same thing. I adore both Vixen and Zatanna, but not so much these early, Flashdance versions. This was pre-tuxedo Zatanna, remember.)

We then get to see more of Detroit. Specifically, we see Vibe do his street level vibeing on a bunch of gang members. A bunch of all white gang members. Because,as everyone knows, all gangs in Detroit are of Anglo-Saxon stock.

I remember reading my first article on hip-hop in Spin Magazine back in 1984. I think Gerry Conway read the same article. Vibe is everything you'd expect from someone not directly involved with hip-hop, with every cliche happily applied: Vibe is street, he carries a boombox on his shoulder, he's got attitude, and he says 'chu' a lot. He seemed to reek of pandering when I first read it, and my feelings, while tinged with nostalgia, still carry that same feeling of nausea.

By some bizarre coincidence, Vixen and Steel are buying groceries for the JLA and see Vibe deliver the beat-down (see what I did there? I italicized it and everything!)on the Road Warrior wannabee gang members, and of course, think he should join the JLA. The entry barrier to this once august team apparently now swings open like an automatic door if you so much as sneeze really, really well.

Steel and Vixen run back to the headquarters to tell Aquaman to hire Vibe stat. He poo-poos the idea, showing the first sign of common sense we've seen all issue. But when Vibe rings the doorbell(!) to the no longer secret headquarters--and smacks Aquaman upside the head with vibe powers--he gets to join as well.

Really.

To celebrate, Vibe asks Steel to come to his place for dinner. Just Steel. Even though he macks hard on Vixen, he just wants to take Steel home. Oh, Vibe, it's okay. You can tell us. The more you know! On the way, they see Gypsy steal some shit then fade away. Since she has done something vaguely super-powerish, how long before she has a chair at the JLA table? (One issue.)

Now here's where things get strange.

Back at the Once Secret Headquarters, Gunn is looking all pensive at some computers. Zatanna enters the room wearing a sheer negligee, bearing a plate of cookies and milk. Two pages later, she's hitting on Gunn so hard even he can't miss it, with Zatanna asking coyly if he snores in his sleep. I mean, Zatanna?

She's known this guy for a day, and she's so hard up she's tramping this hard? Of all the super-heroines in the DC Universe, I can't imagine her suffering from a cold mattress. The suspension of disbelief--and outright envy--almost destroyed this comic for me right here.

Fortunately, Gypsy takes this opportunity to break into the Once Secret Headquarters and sets off an alarm. Gunn, it must be noted, doesn't seem to0 upset by this. (Perhaps he should hang with Vibe?) Manhunter--posing as bit of technology--catches Gypsy, but she skedaddles right quick. Then it's that bloody doorbell again.

Aquaman answers the door to find the neighborhood arriving with a welcoming party. Vibe lays down some tiles and offers to break-dance, with Vixen quickly joining him. Even Manhunter downs a beer. Elongated Man, forever out of the loop even surrounded by so much fresh hip hop culture (boomboxes, hot black women, and Detroit, represent) ends the issue by saying 'Ole!'.

Tool.

And as we all know, this new version of the JLA would forever change comics, making us redefine what we thought of super-heroes, and..well, no. But it did define the mid-Eighties in a way that still makes us cringe. To be fair, though, there are no leg-warmers anywhere in this issue. I've checked at least twice.

Toy Soliders: Defeated By Beauty

2010-03-14T13:04:00.001-07:00

After having coffee with Crazylegs yesterday at Chapters (where, for some mushy headed reason, someone thought it was a good idea to have a songstress serenade customers with an electric keyboard. No offense to the singer--who had some decent pipes on her--but playing loud music when no-one has specifically come to your business establishment to hear it generally falls under the title of Bad Business Decisions every time.), I left admiring the man's determination to not buy any new games until he finishes what he already has. We each have our Pile Of Shames to contend with, and I applaud those who tackle them head-on. (Isn't it telling that when we were in our twenties, we were always on about starting something. Now, in our forties, we all seem intent on finishing something. Are our bodies giving us a subliminal message, the instinctual analog of tapping its wristwatch and coughing?)

So, inspired by CL's steadfast character, I went home that night, intent on following in his footsteps. Then I saw Toy Soldiers.

A tower defence game with a World War One flavouring would have been hard for me to resist on its own. But throw in the delightful fact that everything in play are actually toys in a child's bedroom, with a scratchy gramophone soundtrack playing throughout, all lit in nostalgic tones of sepia?

Bought minutes after the trial ended. As of 1:30 last night, I was still smiling, still cackling at each missile shot, still defending my Toy Box from the Huns.

But that's the last game.

Honest.

Three Reasons Why DEAD SNOW Was Awesome

2010-03-13T16:23:00.001-08:00

1.I Knew Next To Nothing About It
I had heard of Dead Snow, I knew a bit of the story, but that was it. Discovering the story without having had seventy percent of it ruined by trailers was a shot of pure, exhilarating joy. Add to that the realization that the filmmakers's subconscious operates on the same wavelength as mine also made me feel less lonely in this cold, uncaring, world.

2. The Film Is Composed Of Unknowns, Three Of Them Gorgeous.

Evy Kasseth Rosten, Charlotte Frogner, Jenny Skavlan. Norway has done the planet proud. Thank you, Norway. Thank you.

3. It's Never Shies Away From Being Overly Gross or Gleefully Ridiculous, Often At The Same Time.
Sometimes when you create a story, you have to ask yourself "Does this make sense?" And sometimes it's best to just go with "It makes enough." That's the doorway to fun, and that's something Dead Snow leaps through with bravado.

How To Make A Bad Idea Even Worse

2010-03-11T16:46:00.001-08:00

Sigh.

All Your Basecast Episode One

2010-03-10T18:22:00.001-08:00

Here's our first episode.
Hope you enjoy it.

All Your Basecasts: Like Geek Corner, But With Girls And Swearing

2010-03-07T15:29:00.000-08:00

Spent the afternoon recording Episode One of All Your Basecasts with Vanessa and Brian. We recorded for close to an hour, and had quite a bit of fun doing it. It's now in the hands of our master editor and producer--Vanessa--and will be available for download and quick deletion very soon.

This was also my first time up close and personal with a Macbook, and may I say? I think I'm in love.

But You Know What?

2010-03-06T09:16:00.000-08:00

It's a sure signpost on my not-so-gradual metamorphosis into Shuffling Recluse Who Collects Newspapers and Cats, but the above phrase keeps getting stuck in my mental grill. To the point where when I hear it, I actually have to bite my tongue.

I fucking hate it.

Every six months or so, certain phrases creep into the vernacular and stay there like a case of conversational herpes. And it's always the same people who adopt them, the way they adopted those bullshit plastic shoes--Crocs?--or felt the Olympics were a great thing for Canada. The same people who run out and spend grocery money on Vancouver 2010 tat, just so they can feel connected to something. Right now, that phrase is 'But You Know What?'

Having watched those who use this phrase the most, I can see why they love it. It's perfect for the Me!centric generation. It serves the same purpose as saying 'Fuck you and what you said, I want to talk now.' Take a look.

SHEEPLE A: And so I was like so surprised with what happened on The Bachelor last night, like you know I totally didn't see him choosing that way. I thought she was a total tramp."

SHEEPLE B: "But you know what? I was watching Jersey Shore last night, and it was soooo good."

Insert 'Fuck you and what you said, I want to talk now' in the place of ' But you know what?"--and it is at least more truthful.

This sugarcoating of Fuck you serves their egocentric needs by allowing them to shoehorn their own interests in without having to actually have to utilize the niceties of polite conversation. The phrase itself is meaningless--interjecting to ask someone if they have personal knowledge without specifying anything as remote as subject matter. (One could say it relies on inference, but it rarely does.) It serves simply as giant boulder to redirect the flow of speech their way.

Don't believe me? Look around you this week. See who is using that phrase. I'm sure it bounces off the walls of any Starbucks with the speed of a jai alai ball.

And yes, feel free to start all your posts with 'But you know what?" I expect no less.

Weekend Gaming Update

2010-03-01T13:48:00.000-08:00

I think I may have cured my gaming ADD, since I played nothing but Dragon Age this weekend. I finally climbed out of what I thought was an area of bad game design (your character is separated from the other party members for a very long time, and in a game that is about character interplay, it just didn't work), and got back to the actual quests themselves.

As much as I enjoy the mythology of the game, I've found I'm not reading the many, many, MANY Codexes the game throws at you, telling myself I'll get back to them later. Sometimes, when you only have an hour to play a game, you just don't want to slog through a treatise on religion vs. magic. Especially if it doesn't give you XP or a chance to get busy with that elf.

And you? What did you play this weekend?

Of Canadian Dreamers, Shapeshifters and Avoiding Snowshovelling

2010-02-28T11:16:00.000-08:00

Man, can I identify with Anvil. This week saw two writing projects come to naught--one was a simple rejection (but it would have been awesome had it come together!) and the other was something that was meant to be published, but when the book came out, my piece was somehow missing. The editor was dumbfounded, and offered to publish it in a year or so. With my luck, there will also be an offer to take me on a Eastern European tour, and I'll end up in Prague, doing a convention for unemployed newspaper columnists and still not get paid.

So I sat down and watched Anvil: The Story of Anvil this morning. Heartbreaking, but very Canadian. As Vulcan Ninja said, the tour Anvil goes on in the film made Spinal Tap look like the perfection of managerial orchestration. The lead singer of the band still believes his band is going to hit it big even when there is little justification for his faith, and seems to take the daily wounds without flinching (from working a dead end job to being slighted by more successful musicians at third rate rock fests). By the end of the film, I kept praying that something would go right for these poor bastards. The damning phrase 'Nice guys finish last' should be Anvil's tag line.

Anvil: The Story of Anvil is so much better than It Might Get Loud in terms of showing the true face of rock and roll--and it's a face that's tired, refusing to take its eyes off the horizon when the horizon is not getting one fucking millimeter closer.

Yesterday I also went to Grooves and picked up The Decemberists The Hazards of Love. I've been meaning to pick up a Decemberist album for awhile now, so of course I get the concept album. Yes, I typed that right: this is a concept album.

From what I can put together, it's about 19th century shapeshifters, love, murder, and more shapeshifters. It really shouldn't work, but it does. I like to compare it with Anvil--both different parts of the rock arena--but both equally ambitious. Apparently, there is even an animated film coming to accompany the album, which seems the best way to undertake and pile on more insanity. Vulcan Ninja put down her Slayer albums to give it a listen, and was 'taken', as she put it. Here's The Rake's Song, which can give you an idea of the feel of the album.

Right. Back to work on my version of Smell The Glove. It's gonna be big man, I tell you.

John Krasinski Should Be Captain America. There. I Said It.

2010-02-25T18:15:00.001-08:00

I have spent way too long thinking about this today, but of all the actors up for the part, I think he's the best choice. I mean, outside of Jim Dandy. But since I know Hollywood can't afford him, Jim Halpert is their best bet.

I mean, how can it be worse than the Captain America movie above? Anyone see this besides me? A motorcycle helmet? I mean, what the fuck were we thinking back in the Seventies? We accepted that. And wasn't there another Captain America movie where the director didn't even use the uniform because he felt people would get bored by that? And because of budget constraints the big final car chase was reduced to a bicycle chase? I have to hunt that movie down. I need to know I didn't dream it.

The Reclamation of Evil: Doctor Doom in 2010

2010-02-21T14:36:00.000-08:00

Jim Dandy and I were discussing Doctor Doom a few weeks ago, because that's the sort of thing that takes up a lot of space in our minds.In light of Latveria's number one skin cream user actually going out and performing vivisection on Asgardians (as seen in the current THOR run), he felt that it was time to shut him down, that he'd gone 'too far'.

After reading DOOMWAR #1, I'm hard pressed not to agree with him. Marvel Comics has been building up Doom in the past year to be one of the most hardass villains they have--and rightly so, because he should be the worst of the bunch. He's been a contender for the Sorcerer Supreme mantle after Dr. Strange did a no-no and lost the Eye of Agamotto and that killer Seventies curtain style cape, he's gone toe to toe with Thor, and now he's making yet another move to become the most powerful character on Earth.

But how far is too far? Outside of the grisly deaths he inflicts upon Asgardians, Doom cold heartedly murders innocents in DOOMWAR, and that usually isn't the sort of thing you get away with in the Marvel Universe when you're a character of Doom's caliber. Sure, Bullseye kills innocents on a weekly basis, but that's part of his character. Like the Joker, he's a mad dog with no real power beyond his own capacity for violence. He murders without thought, with the focus being cast on the heroes who do not take the necessary steps to save future lives. Doom, on the other hand, is a bloody government. He's a major player in the Marvel Universe, someone who can address the U.N, someone every one on the planet knows. He's not someone that heroes can readily ignore the way they can an assassin or run of the mill super powered douchebag.

(And yes, other major villains do kill, but it's usually people who had it coming, as it were, such as the thugs the Kingpin usually deals with, or various lackeys who seemingly exist to be whacked to show what double-crossing your villain boss will get you. The murder spree Doom is on in unprecedented in my near 42 years of reading Marvel Comics.)

I'm just curious as to what Marvel's long term planning is with Doom for this year. He's now become so dark that it calls for either a resolution of the character (an invasion of Latveria? Ha! Like that would work) or a new acclimatization that this is the new, acceptable level of evil for mainstream villains in the Marvel Universe.

And oh, right. DOOMWAR is a decent read, btw. Doom's plan is one that seems like he should have thought of it before, and the spotlight on Black Panther and Wakanda makes a refreshing break from all the Norman Osborn spotlight hogging going on in North America. I mean, enough of that guy already.

Reload

2010-02-19T19:11:00.000-08:00

It's been the sort of week where it feels like I should be standing on top of a pile of bullet shells, with two smoking guns in my hand, wondering when the next attack will occur.

This week has gifted me with the horror of seeing a loved one hooked up to an oxygen mask, tubes and a ECG. I've felt my heart stop when I watched her colour fade from her face as she lay unconscious after surgery. I've seen both the glory of our health system and the havoc a simple mistake by a doctor can generate. It's been a week that has confirmed the truths I have in my life, both for good and ill. I've seen how wonderful people can be, and how selfish. I've seen enough, and now I want to just go back to being a geek, being a writer, and worrying about useless shit.

Although with all that's happened, there was a moment of break out laughter, when an old friend, commenting on everything that had occurred, said that at least I was now closer to fulfilling my dream of being married to this woman.

Well, I suppose.

Sean Twist

Buffy Done Right, Finally.

First Time In Amalur

Gundam It!

Man Versus Nature Versus Pokemon.

The Elvish-Gondor Connection REVEALED

What, Another New Year?

It's Like A Gate Shutting On A Roller Coaster Feeling

Persona 3 Update

I Know. Be Quiet and Put Up Some Damn Lights, Why Don't I?

Geek Update

So...

Is There A Problem?

Some Things Are Just WRONG

The Bitterest Pill

Super Heroines On A Sunday

I Bought Skyrim, And Ended Up Playing Rage Instead

With Friends Like These...Star Ocean: The Last Hope

Magazines Are The Way To My Blackened Heart

My Monday Dream, Ongoing

New Mutants and Turtles Oh My

Groovy

The Doctor Is A Bastard Sometimes. No, Really.

I Should Be Working

Spinning Crap Into Gold: The Alchemy of Rick Remender

The Death Shudders of American Comics

Pure Genius: Hard Revenge Milly

You Can Keep Her: My Review of 'Taken'

Treasure Surprise! Blood The Last Vampire!

That's All Folks!

Poetry Time

Every Shonen Knife Has A Dork That Loves Them

Gaming Updates--Becaue You Know You Need To Know

Saints and Personas

It's A Beautiful Sunday...

Cats And Their Mysterious Connection To Bad Art

In Which I Rage Against My Own Kind

Geek Update

Broken Fairy Tales

Godzilla Returns. Old Geek Gets Teary Eyed

Finally Finished Mass Effect!

Hey! I Read Comic Books!

Best Picture For 2011! I've Seen....ONE!

Durarara

Listen

Limbo

Tron: Legacy: It's Better To DeRez Than Fade Away

The Spike VGAs

Costume Quest Complete! Life's Dream Achieved!

The Chronology of Cool: The Relationship Between Video Games And Their Fans

The Dreadful Day Before The Work Week

Looking For Magic: Dragon Quest IX

Onto The Soapbox

My New Hero!

Games I Do Get: Zombies!!!

Games I Don't Get: Civilization

All The Geek Movie Reviews You Need On A Monday Afternoon ARE HERE!

Comics I Done Read: August 20-22, 2010

When Geeks Get Grumpy

Twice In One Day

It's Never Too Late For Too Human

A Stranger Is Just A Friend We Haven't Overshared With

You Know What The World's Missing?

Summer Evenings of Beautiful Apocalypse

Spending Time With Old Friends

The Comic Book Kiss Of Cancellation Death

High School Of The Dead: Zombies, Blood, and Lots of Bouncing

Alert! The Globe And Mail Now Tracks Science Fiction and Fantasy Sales! Alert! Alert!

Useless Animals

Because It's The World Cup, That's Why

What Tony Stark Said *Next*!

Of This, Hope. And Lots of Punching!

Crossing The Nerdicon

Carbonite Dreams

Drinking The Kool-Aid With G.I.Joe

The First Rule of Etrian Odyssey Is You Don't Talk About Etrian Odyssey....

Iron Man 2: Proof That Nothing's As Good As Your First Time

Stupid Playstation and Its Stupid Rules

Finally! New Special Edition X-Files!!!!!

Delusions of Gaming Grandeur

What Tony Stark Said Next!