I’m thinking I fucked up using the short post gag yesterday because today I really need it. Like the troll under the Congress Avenue bridge, these 11-12 hour days of sheer standing are taking their toll and boy is the price high. Here’s my analogy. You know when the public rises up in some sort of uprising, there’s always the guy carrying a baseball bat with nails driven through it? Ok, replace those nails with penicilen needles. It feels like my legs have been beat with that device for three days straight. And just as the days before, I shall now cut this off short and pass out. Here’s hoping you’re having better luck in your many travels than I.
Sincerely,
Sir Dr. Percius Barnfeather Nacodoches Jelidonought, Tertiary Chief Inquisitor of Diamond City, Master Cartographer of Water Droplets, Skeptic of Zero Theory and all around good egg
If you read the Don Rickles post, it may become apparent that I was quite tired when writing and posting it. I even mention this fact in said post, making it quite simple to grasp. Tired as I was, perhaps in some state of delirium, I posted it as a new page, rather than just a blog entry. That has now been corrected, placing the posting on the proper page, and the original being deleted. Therefore, though the timestamp lists the posting as today, I still count it as yesterday for my blog-a-day thingie. Ah, the marvels of lucidity. With that, on to today’s post.
Had my first day of real work in 7 weeks. I say real since there were a few mornings I woke up with wads of cash in my pocket and no real idea of where it came from. Not even sore orifices. Strange. Even more so due to the fact that it was almost exclusively Deutsche mark bills in various denominations. Anyhow, first day of work at Jimmy John’s. Decent job. Looks like it’s gonna be fun, but damn, 7 weeks of near nothing atrophies the extremities something fierce. My legs feel like i got shot up with penicilin.
What, you may be asking, does this have to do with my daily writing excercise mentioned in a tweet? Not to very much. Long fucking day, figured I’d start out slow. Also, I’m tired as feces and want to pass out. Should probably have passed out a few hours ago, but I watched John Landis’ Don Rickles documentary “Mr. Warmth.” I then showed my roommate The Aristocrats. Perhaps not tomorrow, but I may soon blog about my personal theories regarding performance artists and, in particluar, comedians.
If you have no interest in classic science fiction, you are missing out. Roll over to archive.org and listen to an episode of X Minus One. Go to a used book store and pick up some Brian Aldiss. I suggest a collection that includes “Intagibles Incorporated.” Hell, watch James Whale’s 1931 Frankenstein with Karloff. Sci-fi in the old days was a place to be feared, with things that could hurt you without any remorse. But they weren’t facehuggers and battle droids. They were humanized, they were thinking, sentient, feeling beings that the reader could connect with. And then they turned a corner and vaporized an innocent. Often without having to pay for it. They knew how to write em back then. And the public dug it. We’ve got good writers in the modern world, but the people that are growing up with plastic playgrounds don’t want their stories to go that dark. (Friendship bench? I weep for humanity.)
This was gonna be my review of Alfred Bester’s The Demolished Man. I was going to go in depth as far as what I liked and what I didn’t, but this book won a freaking Hugo, the first one given in fact, 50 plus years ago. The Demolished man has been dissected in any way you could imagine. So this is gonna be short then I’ll make some jokes and do one or two other things.
The Demolished Man could make a decent flick, and here’s how I would do it. First off, and fuck you fanboys, I would drop the Powell/Barbara D’Courtney-in-love aspect. I know why it was in the book, I know why people like it, but it ain’t a necessary component, and adds a layer of awkwardness while advancing neither character nor plot. Again, and with the utmost respect, fuck you. It doesn’t belong.
The psychic bits would have to have to have to be executed in a different manner than anything that has come before. I dug Scanners, but Bester’s book came first and shouldn’t be just another derivative. I’m not quite sure exactly how to do that, but I do have ideas and theories and possibilities and those other things…right, original ideas. Demolished Man did give me some really good inspirations on how to do this, so they may end up in the psychic story I’m writing, whether or not its a movie-to-be.
Like Kubrick with Burgess’ A Clockwork Orange; like Whedon with, um, Whedon’s Firefly, you’ve got to pay proper respects to the society that was built into the original, right down to the language. Bester wrote a future that was a future of his time, as in it built on 40s/50s dialogue, ideals and ways. Keep that, it works. Pip-Pop-Bim-Bam would be there. Pepsi would be there. The model crime scene may be holograms instead of miniature androids, but the crudity of real world mechanics would be there, and the tech that designed it would have the same aversion to other people making fun of his works.
The ending. The ending. THE ENDING. Before you judge me on this, and you will, watch Total Recall again. Then find a collection of Dick’s short stories and read ‘We Can Remember it for You Wholesale,” which Total Recall was based on. Same world, same character(s), similar story, completely different ending.Not even one that is diametrically opposed, but one that is far too different for proper comparison. I would change the classic ending to The Demolished Man. It would not end with Reich’s Demolition. That would occur, but you can’t end a story like that with, “By the way, demolition doesn’t mean capitol punishment.” That, while a by Hoyle proper ending, was among the worst parts of the book for me. I wouldn’t kill him, I might even demolish him in the same way, but it wouldn’t be the big surprise ending.
That’s my vision of a flick based on The Demolished Man. The title would have to change, of course. Too close to, you know the one I mean.
Still unemployed. Except that now I’ve gotten a few calls from management recruiting agencies who claim to be interested in me. Here’s the groovy good part: they want me to work a places like IHOP and Sonic. Bad jobs? No. But, I just left Fuddruckers after two and a half years due, in part, to the cookie cutter existence therein. Not funny? It made me laugh. Piss off. I need the job.
If you have traveled here from some link I threw into another forum, CCGs or whatnot, good to have you. Makes me realize that stones I throw do ripple in the great pond that is our world. Cute, huh? Took me years to compose that. And now that I have a blog, aka worldwide applebox, I get to use all the poeticals I come up with, knowing that they will touch someone in ways that some pay good money for. (Notice how I avoided the clergy molestation joke? I think I’m growing as a person) ( priests are known for raping little boys) (damn.) (well, I tried)
This one isn’t going to be one of my rants or philosophizings. What I’m interested in today is your opinion, whether you’ve read my blog before or not.
There have been many attempts over the years to make flicks that, while definitely western, have incorporated scifi or fantasy elements with varying degrees of success. TNTs Purgatory was a fun one. Westworld. Heaven Only Knows (never saw it, but heard good things). House 2. The Skull Cowboy from the Crow.
Firefly most definitely fits here. If you are unfamiliar with the death and rebirth of Firefly, itiswelldocumented, The short version is that this scifi/western was so well loved by the fans that they (we) would not let it die when Fox cancelled it. Whedon and his faithful crew still produce Firefly based materials every now and then with comics and whatnot.
Way way way back in the mid to late 90’s, there was trading card game called Doomtown, set in the Deadlands RPG world. This is the wikipedia page. Doomtown, despite what many gamers describe as clunky and limiting gameplay, is still played today, even though its components haven’t seen print in a decade. For proof, look to the prices DT cards get on ebay. Doomtown is an alternate history bit, set in the late 19th century Californian city of Gamorra. The Civil War still rages and there is a gold ruch like story element regarding a mined substance called ghost rock.The town is overrun by western staples like lawmen, outlaws, indians and clergy as well as the fanciful mad scientists and zombies (known as harrowed characters). The story began in a neat place and, with every expansion set, advanced in an entertaining way.
Move up to 2001, and a small RPG computer game called Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura hits the shelves and gets notable acclaim from many gaming authorities, such as PC Gamer and IGN. This one, while not quite set in the American west, was a steampunk bit very much inspired by the Victorian era stylistcs, thus was very close to a western in tone. No horses, but there were pistols and trains. The gameplay, for lack of a better term, sucked. Combat, movement across the street or across the continent, even the “save game” system, were all mediocre at best. It was the story that made it a success. Arcanum not only had a brilliantly woven central story, but your actions in many of the side quests contributed to your personalized game ending once you’ve beaten (or joined) the villain at the end. I’ve personally played through Arcanum at least half a dozen times, using different play styles and, believe me, it ain’t for the gameplay.
Now. Present day. Serenity was three years ago. Are we ready for another proper western with SciFi, Supernatural or Fantasy elements? Cause I want to write one.
Personally, I’ve written or outlined a few stories in this vein. I’ve got an Arcanum fanfic called A Gunfighter of Tulla. I’ve got an original piece that’s a sort of coversation between a circuit judge and one of the gargoyles on a courthouse. What I’m looking for from you is interest. Is the weird west still alive?
Let’s see some comments on this one. Give me a “hell, yeah,” or a “let it die.” If you want to, toss out a story idea. Get the creative juices flowing. What story would you like to see from a world like this? Bear in mind that this is an open forum. If you put up an idea that you want to publish in some form, don’t cry when it gets snaked. But if you don’t fear the masses and want to help spark some interest, give me something that says you’ve got the same drive for this kind of story that I have. Any takers?
So, I’ve been in Austin about 2 1/2 weeks now. This means that other than the odd bartending gig my buddy Big Mike lines up for me, I have been unemployed for 3 weeks. This kind of sucks. I understand the desire to be able to do what you want when you want. I do. It is, however, fairly trying on the nerves when you’re not sure you’ll be able to pay your rent.
I’ve thrown out handfuls of resumes and applications with varying degrees of rejection. The best one so far? With two years restaurant experience, I am *ahem* over-qualified to be a host or expo, BUT, it does not give me enough experience to wait tables. To wait tables. I can balance PNLs, make schedules, manage employee files, even handle entire daysful of customer complaints, but I can’t wait tables. Cute.
Quantum of Solace. I saw it twice just to make sure it was as bad as I thought it was. It was. The Bourne flicks were decent enough, minus Greengrass’s shakeycam. But Bond preceeded Bourne, successfully, by decades. So, why is Forster’s Bond a Bourne clone? Even if it was unintentional, it should have come up in a meeting.
Forster: Okay, since my Bond is a grittier guy than anything Fleming ever envisioned, we’re gonna go at it sans gadgets again, relying more on Bond’s quick-wittedness, superior combat training and unflinching good looks.
Neil, Studio Lackey: But, Campbell did that last time, and we got tons of comparisons to the Jason Bourne films.
Forster: Right, last time. what a great film that was. Really. Anyway, so there’s gonna be this close quarters knife fight with multiple stabs in rapid succession…
Bob, Studio Lackey: There was one of those in Bourne Identity. A good one, if I recall.
Forster: Right, so we’re all on the same page here? Good. The chick in this one will seem meager at first. Capable, but second rate. Then later, see, she comes into her own and becomes kind of a partner to Bond.
Neil: But, Franka Potente…
Forster: Oh! And the villain is the wormy French guy from The Diving Bell and the Butterfly!
Bob: … Well, you got me there. (To Neil) At least Liman got Chris Cooper.
Forster: Okay, are you ready for this? There’s a scene where Bond’s got to lock a guy in a bathroom, so he closes the door, then rips the handle right off the door! Cause he’s strong!
Neil and Bob: …
et cetera.
Yes. Forster’s Bond has superhuman strength. That alone should’ve kept the flies away. Super Bond also has the ability to receive all cuts and bruises in a manner that actually supports his pretty. The only lasting decent bit in the flick is that Dench’s M continues to be pure awesome. Since she took the Mycroft mantle, Dame Dench has proven that a character built purely for exposition can be quite flavorful. And we really get to see M do things in this one. Other than the M standard of giving 007 a mission, then later try unsuccessfully to reel him in. That’s in Quantum, of course, but she also has some nice bits of running MI6 as a character like that would in her day-to-days. Those scenes were fun to watch. And I got a good laugh out of the fact that a high-powered secret society can place a man in MI6 and get him promoted to M’s personal bodyguard, just in case he’s present to act on a classic 007ism like “We have people everywhere. Don’t we?”
Wright was underused. The villains were shit. The movie sucked.
The baseline question I’ll be handling today is this: Can a hero of high adventure stories be humanized, as in, changed by story events?
When I think “high adventure, “ I generally think of characters like these:
Good guys. White hats, no matter the situation. High adventure, of course, covers more than that with anti-heroes and others, scoundrels and menwithno names and whatnots. Whatever the guise, the high adventure guy tends to ride into the story, right a feature full of wrongs, then take a powder, satisfied that he had done good things. They are, from time to time, troubled fellows, but they always do the right thing, preserving the image of the hero.
Back in Forsterland, Spider Bond spends the story pretending to care about the mission and secretly making moves to get revenge for the death of Vesper, the skirt from the last flick. The new chick wants revenge, too. It seems that, when she was a little girl, a stock military General character killed her family and raped her house plants. Her part pretty much exists to give Bat Bond some perspective on his own situation and realize how withered is the fruit of the vengeance tree, or some crappy arthousey metaphor that Forster came up with early one morning while sipping Evian and nibbling alfalfa sprouts. Naturally, after Bondzarro gets info from and dispatches the bad guy, who, by the way, looks like a skeleton shrink wrapped in Tim Burton’s bedsheets, he moves on to Russia. Okay, here goes. At the end of Casino Royale we learned that Vesper was betrayed by a boyfriend who, as wikipedia tells me, since I don’t care to remember, snags well-to-do ladies, then pretends to be kidnapped so that the ladies will give up whatever he wants in exchange for his supposed freedom, then ditches the bitches, absconding with the booty. Now. The info that the wormy guy gave up apparantly leads Dr. Bond, Sorceror Supreme to this Yusef guy, Vesper’s betrayer and, *ahem* member of Quantum, the secret society that all the baddies in this franchise reboot apparently belong to. Iron Bond, having learned much in his tribulations, lets the guy live.
Sure, characters can, and should evolve, but what the fuck. It’s fucking James Bond. He pimps in, does his DangerMouse bit, shags some carpet, then beats it to the next martini bar. Or space ship escape pod, if it’s convenient. This cat doesn’t need that aspect to be cool, or to sell tickets, or change the world.
Watching Kevin Smith’s Threevening, I finally got some insight into why Superman Returns was so hated on by pretty much everyone except we valient few. They don’t like that it went to the emotional side of Supes rather heavy handidly. They don’t like that there’s no mano a mano with a supervillain. I liked all that, but that’s a rant for another day. The point here is that I, a regular-class fanboy dug that Singer went there with Superman. So, why am I cool with Superman showing emotion, but not Bondo the Conqueror? Because it was handled well. I can’t label Marc Forster a bad director. I didn’t see Finding Neverland, but heard good things. I liked Stranger than Fiction well enough. And I’m legitimately looking forward to seeing what he does with WWZ. But, Singer is a phenomenal director. He’s top shelf quality. Usual Suspects, X-Men, X2, Baywatch, Baywatch Nights, the list goes on. It apparantly takes a director of that calibre to properly break a high adventure character down into his component parts without losing the sterner stuff that holds it all together.
Why is revenge such a hated on motivation, anyway? All the crap about “It’s not worth it,” and “We’re better than that.” It’s for the birds. The gay ones. I’ve had an idea floating for a while now that centers around the concept that “vengeance is justice enacted by the passionate.”
If you saw Quantum of Solace, you paid too much for your ticket, even if it was free. But, also, you probably saw the Trek trailer. For a proper breakdown of that, read Steven’s review here.
I know you’ve all learned to set your watches by my regular postings, but keep your cool for the next few weeks, as I’ll be relocating myself to Austin. Stay the course, and I’ll be posting again by late December. Or possibly mid-June. Next year.
Try not to take me too seriously here, for I might say something profound.
So, Steven’s got this video posted of Guy Clark singing Desperados Waiting for a Train. Hell of a song. I’ve gone through the links, watched a few more versions of it, with different singers. By the time I got to the Letterman video from ‘98 with the all star line up, I figured out what I believe to be one of the great mysteries of the human condition.
We truly are all the fucking same.
It doesn’t really matter what the great philosophers wrote or what the pundits spew or even what the ministers preach. Each of us goes through the same life and has to come to our own conclusions about everything that crosses our path. Read what you want and take it how you like it. You’ll have to, at some point, look at the world your way. The insights of Socrates, Leonardo and Jane Yolen are, at best, guides for those already on some path.
At this time in my personal grand scheme, I am frequently recalling some nugget I stumbled across weeks or years or lifetimes ago, and only now realizing their potency. Words that meant nothing to me then. Nothing. Because I lacked the necessary experience for it to sink in proper. Now, that I’m a bit more world wise, I can see that I’ve come to the same or to similar conclusions as these guys, I just don’t quite have the poetry to put the thoughts to the right words. And when I link some errant thought to those words,… I have to assume that this is what it feels like for a songwriter to get the flash of insight when the lyrics finally jive with the notes.
Now comes the cool part. More and more often, I’m finding that, when I come into contact with pearls of wisdom, I will have already both considered the subject matter at hand and decided my stance on it. I don’t see this as becoming smarter or more relavent in God’s Great Green, I see it as having covered more of the basic grounds of humanity.
I am very often reminded of the bit from Gaiman’s Sandman when Death has just taken an infant. The kid says “Is that all there is?” Death responds with, “You got all anyone gets: One lifetime.” I’m 26. Roughly a third or forth of the way through a standared lifetime, and I think I’m pretty well set for the rest of it. Or at least on the right path. In conversation, you can tell the people who take other people’s words and regurgitate them as their own, barely considering what they’re saying. The kind of Joe’s that quote politician’s because they belong to the same political party or quote Simon and Garfunkle without truly understanding the phrase, “I am a rock.” Fuck those people. If they never get it, so fucking be it. Because you can also tell the true thinkers. The ones that look at the world they’re living in and consider it in some way, great or small, metaphysically or in terms of quantum mechanics. Those are the one’s worth having a conversation with. I don’t know who said that famous phrase about surrounding yourself with people smarter than you, but wowser does it fit the great world wide. People are constantly saying that life is too short for this or that. Fuck that, too. Life is long and lots can be done within it. One doesn’t need a stated purpose or a cause to fight for, only to live their damn life. I’m on the verge of doing something drasitc with mine. Not sure what, yet, but it’s on the horizon.
Rick Blaine wasn’t the hero, Victor Lazlo was. Not everyone gets to be a champion.
January 7, 2009
Does the Weird West still breathe?
Posted by adamnonotthatadamlawtheotheradamlawlaw under Uncategorized | Tags: "weird west", arcanum, comment, contribute, Deadlands, doomtown, ebay, fantasy, firefly, Joss Whedon, scifi, Serenity, storytelling, western |Leave a Comment
This one isn’t going to be one of my rants or philosophizings. What I’m interested in today is your opinion, whether you’ve read my blog before or not.
There have been many attempts over the years to make flicks that, while definitely western, have incorporated scifi or fantasy elements with varying degrees of success. TNTs Purgatory was a fun one. Westworld. Heaven Only Knows (never saw it, but heard good things). House 2. The Skull Cowboy from the Crow.
Firefly most definitely fits here. If you are unfamiliar with the death and rebirth of Firefly, it is well documented, The short version is that this scifi/western was so well loved by the fans that they (we) would not let it die when Fox cancelled it. Whedon and his faithful crew still produce Firefly based materials every now and then with comics and whatnot.
Way way way back in the mid to late 90’s, there was trading card game called Doomtown, set in the Deadlands RPG world. This is the wikipedia page. Doomtown, despite what many gamers describe as clunky and limiting gameplay, is still played today, even though its components haven’t seen print in a decade. For proof, look to the prices DT cards get on ebay. Doomtown is an alternate history bit, set in the late 19th century Californian city of Gamorra. The Civil War still rages and there is a gold ruch like story element regarding a mined substance called ghost rock.The town is overrun by western staples like lawmen, outlaws, indians and clergy as well as the fanciful mad scientists and zombies (known as harrowed characters). The story began in a neat place and, with every expansion set, advanced in an entertaining way.
Move up to 2001, and a small RPG computer game called Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magick Obscura hits the shelves and gets notable acclaim from many gaming authorities, such as PC Gamer and IGN. This one, while not quite set in the American west, was a steampunk bit very much inspired by the Victorian era stylistcs, thus was very close to a western in tone. No horses, but there were pistols and trains. The gameplay, for lack of a better term, sucked. Combat, movement across the street or across the continent, even the “save game” system, were all mediocre at best. It was the story that made it a success. Arcanum not only had a brilliantly woven central story, but your actions in many of the side quests contributed to your personalized game ending once you’ve beaten (or joined) the villain at the end. I’ve personally played through Arcanum at least half a dozen times, using different play styles and, believe me, it ain’t for the gameplay.
Now. Present day. Serenity was three years ago. Are we ready for another proper western with SciFi, Supernatural or Fantasy elements? Cause I want to write one.
Personally, I’ve written or outlined a few stories in this vein. I’ve got an Arcanum fanfic called A Gunfighter of Tulla. I’ve got an original piece that’s a sort of coversation between a circuit judge and one of the gargoyles on a courthouse. What I’m looking for from you is interest. Is the weird west still alive?
Let’s see some comments on this one. Give me a “hell, yeah,” or a “let it die.” If you want to, toss out a story idea. Get the creative juices flowing. What story would you like to see from a world like this? Bear in mind that this is an open forum. If you put up an idea that you want to publish in some form, don’t cry when it gets snaked. But if you don’t fear the masses and want to help spark some interest, give me something that says you’ve got the same drive for this kind of story that I have. Any takers?