The War in Iraq

This is my re-introduction to my blogging life. I've been out of touch for quite a while, due to [insert stuff here]. But I do feel the need to add my voice to this debate.

I'm responding and adding to this:

http://thefuckhead.livejournal.com/1643.html

The idea behind "The Surge" is that as we succeed, we can pull our troops out. The Iraqis will finally learn democracy, and then we can be friends.

This bothers me on many levels, but I wish to address this as a historian.

"Democracy must be learned." And you learn best by doing.

The Setting: America in the 18th Century

Vignette 1: Riotings, bombings, and arrests without due process due to labor unrest.

Vignette 2: Rigged elections in New York.

Vignette3: People crossing state lines to vote for or against slavery to tip the balance of power in the Senate.

This was not democracy in action. This was chaos, and during this time we wound up in a civil war because people didn't believe they could get their concerns addressed through regular channels. (No, it wasn't just slavery, but that's its own issue.)

Did we need a more "civilized" nation charging in to save us from ourselves? To teach us how to get along and build communities without fear? (You could argue we still need that. . . No! No tangents!) Maybe we did. But would we have come as far as we have today if a nation with a radically different cultural background had come in to ram it down our throats? Would we see the point in every change we've made, even if we disagree with them? Would they mean anything if they hadn't been grounded in our own culture, designed to our own way of doing things?

I don't like this war because I don't think we can help the Iraqis by making them more like us. We can't make them more like us. Every culture has a built-in path to progress and evolution, and they can only get better by following their own path.

Even if they kill each other a lot. Check the casualty statistics for the Civil War, if you're feeling superior. We weren't any better, and if we think we can make them free by telling them what to do, we still aren't.

The war in Iraq is counter-productive, to both them and us. We need to grow up as a nation, and part of growing up is not taking the other kids' toys if you don't like what they're doing with them.

Comment at your own risk.

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Interview me!

>>Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me." I will respond by asking you five questions. Update your journal with the answers to the questions. Include this explanation, and ask five questions of anyone who replies.<<

1. As the hero of a fantasy kingdom in the far-off wherever, You have a choice of the path of Magic, or the parh of the sword, or somewhere between the two. You can assume you will have a well-balanced group of followers at some point. Which path do you choose?

-The Path of Magic. Opportunities for learning, lots of fun, potential explode-y goodness, and the Path of the Sword is so done.

2. What qualities do you find most important in a friend? Why?

-Loyalty and intelligence. I want people who will stand by me, and can explain why they do it.

3. You leave your soup out one night, and the next day you find a civilazation of tiny people thriving in it. They worship you as a diety. Do you take an active role in there lives? Or do you simply observe? Why?

-I'd get to know them. I'd try to teach them that being bigger than they are does not make me a god, but I do want to be friends.

4. You are the ruler of a pacifist planet. Your planets resources have nearly dried up, and your people are on the brink of starvation, but they do not blame you and they love you dearly. The planets nearby are green and lush, but populated by paranoid, greedy beings. If you are to start war, you could destroy your opposition easily, and save your people. However, countless aliens would die and your people would despise you. If you remain peaceful, your people will begin to starve, but there would be no blood on your hands and they would continue to love you. What do you do?

I'd go to war. If they hated me, at least they'd have a concrete reason to follow their ideals, as opposed to blind faith.

5. For a moment, complete control of reality is yours. For the split-second that you have this power, is there anything you change? Why?

-I'd ensure a 24 hour moratorium on denial. For 24 hours, no one could lie to themselves about anything at all. Since my control is complete, I would include even if they'd been lied to, so they could see what's false in their lives and couldn't look away.

Currently reading : The Death and Life of Superman By Roger Stern Release date: 01 August, 1993

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5 Geek Social Fallacies: An Informal Poll

OK, I have a website for everyone to check, and I would like everyone (who has the time, you know who you are) to answer some questions. You can answer as a comment to this, or send it to my e-mail (deathkitten (at) gmail.com).

Read this article first: Five Geek Social Fallacies. Then answer these questions:

1. Which of these do you see as the worst, and why?
2. Which of these is the most pervasive in the scene you currently run in, and why? (Feel free to add commentary about scenes you used to run in, or have observed.)
3. Which of these are you most guilty of, and why?
4. Where do you agree with the author? Where do you disagree? Why?

My answers, for those who are interested:

1. GSF2, because it impedes the kind of communication that could resolve all the other fallacies.
2. Currently, and over time, I see GSF1 again and again. I think it's the biggest because all the other ones act as pillars to support this particular fallacy, so whater combination your scene follows, GSF1 will always be in effect.
3. GSF4, definitely. I have the terrible habit of wanting everybody I know to like each other, so I can hang out with all of my friends at once.
4. I agree completely with the author. His article explains many of the difficulties I've seen over the years with various subcultures, and how they rise and fall.

So, now that I've opened up, I'd really like to see what everyone else thinks.

Currently reading : DANGEROUS LIAISONS (LES LIAISONS DANGERUESES) By Choderlos de Laclos Release date: 1940

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Burning Crusade

So last night was the midnight release of the first expansion for World of Warcraft, Burning Crusade. For those of you not in the know, Warcraft is like crack, ecstasy, cigarettes, and celebrities all rolled into one. It's fun, addictive, and you can't stop talking about it.

Burning Crusade is everything I expected and more. It's fantastic.

But I don't blog when I'm happy. I blog to release bile and hatred.

Somebody didn't want to fork over any hard-earned cash for a babysitter, and decided to bring their toddler and their infant to what should have been my happy release party. Who the fuck brings their pre-verbal kids to a goddamn midnight event? Between the crying, the screaming, and the touching of my stuff, I was not a happy camper.

Here's a quick tip for ya: IF YOU'VE GOT THE MONEY FOR A FUCKING MMORPG, YOU'VE GOT THE MONEY FOR ONE NIGHT OF BABYSITTING, YOU STUPID FUCKS. And if you don't, RETHINK YOUR BUDGET.

I, of course, am a selfish pig for liking to pick what I listen to and wanting my personal space unviolated.

Currently reading : In Our Image: America's Empire in the Philippines By Stanley Karnow Release date: 03 March, 1990

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Burning Crusade

So last night was the midnight release of the first expansion for World of Warcraft, Burning Crusade. For those of you not in the know, Warcraft is like crack, ecstasy, cigarettes, and celebrities all rolled into one. It's fun, addictive, and you can't stop talking about it.

Burning Crusade is everything I expected and more. It's fantastic.

But I don't blog when I'm happy. I blog to release bile and hatred.

Somebody didn't want to fork over any hard-earned cash for a babysitter, and decided to bring their toddler and their infant to what should have been my happy release party. Who the fuck brings their pre-verbal kids to a goddamn midnight event? Between the crying, the screaming, and the touching of my stuff, I was not a happy camper.

Here's a quick tip for ya: IF YOU'VE GOT THE MONEY FOR A FUCKING MMORPG, YOU'VE GOT THE MONEY FOR ONE NIGHT OF BABYSITTING, YOU STUPID FUCKS. And if you don't, RETHINK YOUR BUDGET.

I, of course, am a selfish pig for liking to pick what I listen to and wanting my personal space unviolated.

Currently reading : In Our Image: America's Empire in the Philippines By Stanley Karnow Release date: 03 March, 1990

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Laurell K. Hamilton is Batshit Insane

I've been making snide little comments about Ms. Hamilton for awhile now, but it's finally come time to haul out the flamethrower.

A little background: I used to be a rabid, foaming fan of her Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series. While Anita was a bit annoying, she had an interesting job, and got to solve mysteries and kill bad guys. As anyone who likes Batman will tell you, that's the stuff dreams are made of.

And then, it started to slip. More and more of the books became about sex. By the latest book, a character who refused to have sex until marriage is engaging in orgies with various supernatural creatures.

And that's it. In both the series Ms. Hamilton is writing, a book can encompass a day. During that day, the main characters get up, wangst about their life, have sex, get dressed, leave the room, have sex, stare fixedly at their man-slaves (this counts because pages of description are wasted on these interchangeable talking dildoes), go to a new location, remove their clothes (again, endless description), have sex, lie around talking about something that could be interesting if another author was writing it, and have sex. And badly written, constantly recycled sex at that.

So I became a bitter ex-fan, and enjoyed my snark, and that was good enough for me. I am addicted to gossip, after all.

Until this:
Ms. Hamilton's Now Famous Dear Negative Reader Blog

To save you all from the brain-bleeding-ness of having to read that, I will quote specific pieces, and comment on them. Ms. Hamilton in italics, me in regular font.

If you're unhappy with my books, and have decided you never want to read another thing that I write; great. . . There are books that don't make you think that hard. . . Put my books away with other things that frighten and confuse or just piss you off.

I'll concede unhappy, frightened, confused, and pissed off. But not thinking hard? Give us a break, bitch, and attempt some thinking yourself. And I'm frightened and confused because your talent just up and disappeared and you not only don't mourn the loss, you cheer it. Not because of your boring descriptions of some idiot's wang.

As for the people who keep suggesting that I simply start killing characters because Anita has too many men in her life . . .(ellipse hers) The characters aren't real to you. They are real to me, and to a lot of other people. I, and a lot of readers, would feel an emotional loss if some of these guys died. Obviously, you, negative reader, do not feel anything for the people you would urge me to destroy. I am sorry you do not love them, or at least like them, as I do. I have failed as a writer that you could kill them, and feel nothing. . . My characters are real to me in a way that makes me miss them. For God's sake, I'll be in the mall and see something, and go, "Oh, it's the perfect gift for (fill in the blank)." I've been in line with the present in my hand, before I go, "Wait, these are make believe people. I can't buy them a Christmas present.". . . You either understand that the biggest disappoint some years is that I can't walk into the other room and hand that imaginary person a present that I know they would love. . . Or maybe this will not move you, maybe you do not feel for the loneliness of the vampires that have not known love for centuries.

Ms. Hamilton, what we feel is disgust. Wanting to buy presents for people you created, that spout your words and have big enough wangs to satisfy you, when they aren't real, is BATSHIT FUCKING CRAZY. If we don't feel for the loneliness of something that isn't real, maybe it's because we're too busy feeling for things that are.

Rant over. I hope I never have to blog about this Fruit Loop again.

Currently reading : Sailing to Sarantium (Sarantine Mosaic, Book 1) By Guy Gavriel Kay Release date: 01 January, 2000

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Good Description, Nothing for its Own Sake, and No Stupid Crap: Finishing up the Writing Series

I'm going to finish up this writer-y crap before all of my good ideas flee my brain forever. Diving in:

Good Description:
Simply put, there is a spectrum for this that runs the gamut from "Shit, did they just go into another room? I wish the author would tell us!" to "What the fuck is an architrave? (Yes that's a real word.) Is it menacing or comforting? Goddammit, why can't he use English!" Everyone has their own tastes, but it's hard to go wrong with the KISS rule: Keep It Simple, Stupid. Let your readers know where the characters are, and what they look like, and allow them to draw their own conclusions. If they have to buy a thesaurus to get through your writing, you suck.

Nothing for its Own Sake:
This is one of my favorites. If I had a nickel for every time I asked myself, "Why the shit is this author always calling attention to her hair? Does he have a hair fetish? Somebody should tell him nobody gives a shit.", I'd be. . . able to buy lunch today. Your characters, and the places they go, may be fucking cool. You might have fantastic backgrounds written up; the hair example earlier might be all about how they character has hair that is uncharacteristic of her race, which leads to further plot goodness. But if you don't let me know, and if you don't get to the further plot goodness, it becomes literary wankery. The only time I should have to ask, "What the shit is this?" is when it will be explained later. And explained well, dammit. Which leads to my next point:

No Stupid Crap:
Everybody has a limit, and every limit is different. That said, no amount of fantastic plot, characters, and description will survive too much stupid crap.

Case Study #1: Drizzle Do'Fuckwit uses the same shittin' maneuver for every fight he gets into. No matter what he goes through, even though a lot of it combat-related, his fighting style never improves.

Where I'm going with this: Drizzt has good background, neat outfits, and a spiffy cat. Nevertheless, due to stupid crap (of which the above case study is only one example), the character has become a running joke in the fantasy community.

Case Study #2: Anita Blake used to be a highly moral adventurer. She fought her own sexual urges, and only dated until she met someone relatively normal. Her job was to raise the dead, and she also was a police consultant on supernatural crime. In addition, she was a licensed vampire executioner. Now the only thing she does is engage in orgies with various types of supernatural creatures.

Where I'm going with this: The beginning of the series, and its latest books, are two completely different stories, about two completely different people. Pretending that supernatural mystery adventure naturally leads into crappy porn is insulting to our intelligence, and the epitome of Stupid Crap.

That should cover it. I'll be back to my normal snark momentarily.

Currently reading : The Darkangel: The Darkangel Trilogy, Volume I By Meredith Ann Pierce Release date: 15 April, 1998

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The 2006 I Hate Christmas Rant

Every year, I have a rant about Christmas. Last year, I did the rather pedestrian "Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays". This year's will be better.

I hate Christmas because it exaggerates and amplifies the twisted values that mainstream culture uses to fuck us up. Here's a few examples:

1. Only going to church on Christmas, "because it's really important now!"
Value: I'm only going to do this in a big group, because when a lot of people believe it, that's what makes it true!

2. The shopping craze.
Value: He who dies with the most toys, wins.

3. Spending the holiday with family, even if you hate each other.
Value: Individuality is for fucks. Everyone in society has a place, now get in yours!

4. Neglecting your kids to look arounds stores at badly made doodads.
Value: Only the act of spawning is important. If anything else is, the government will fill in the blanks.
Value 2: Nobody can tell me what to do, 'cause I'm a paaaaaaaayrunt. Your opinion won't be worth anything until you breed, so shut up!

This list is by no means exhaustive, but I think it conveys my point.

Until next time,
Happy Holidays!

Currently reading : The New Teen Titans: The Terror of Trigon By Marv Wolfman Release date: 01 June, 2003

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Follow up to the blog about plot: Good Characters

1. Consistency. And I don't mean the hobgoblin of little minds, to quote a writer I'd kick in the nuts if he weren't dead. I mean, if you set someone up as a paragon of honor, and he lies, at some point you need to explain why, for one brief moment, he wasn't himself. If you can't think of a good reason, rewrite the scene. Characters are people; weak people have weak moral codes, strong people have strong moral codes. Ditto with motivation. Pull this all together, or your characters will look like bad imitation schizophrenics.

2. Balance. The most evil person ever loves something, the most good person ever hates something. Perfect characters who are all bad or all good are fucking boring to read about. (And they're typically also bad self-inserts, see my next topic.) Same with skills. Nobody's good at everything, and if they are, nobody wants to read about them. (Real Life Example: Alexandre Dumas, Sr. was the closest thing to a perfect knight this world had ever seen. He was strong enough to lift four rifles by inserting one finger in each barrel and then raising his arm, he was smart enough to go from Private to General in three years, and he was loyal and faithful to his wife until he died. He also sucked at politics. His inability to suck it up and play nice with Napoleon led him to die in poverty, leaving his family with nothing. He was a fascinating man, the more so because of his one fatal flaw.)

3. Mary Sue / Gary Stu. To quote Wikipedia, "Mary Sue (sometimes shortened simply to Sue) is a pejorative term for a fictional character who is portrayed in an overly idealized way and lacks noteworthy flaws, or has unreasonably romanticized flaws. Characters labeled Mary Sues, as well as the stories they appear in, are generally seen as wish-fulfillment fantasies of the author." To be unmercifully blunt, one of these will make your writing suck dirty goat balls. They're boring, they're unrealistic, and by being UBERSPESHUL they kill any sense of urgency the writing might have. Don't do it.

4. Motivation. Your characters need it. The main character of Fight Club is literally bored to insanity; the main characters of Lord of the Rings don't want the world to go to shit. This is what makes the plot happen.

5. Sympathy. People need to know where your characters are coming from. What makes Tyler Durden sympathetic, even while he's setting up bombs, is the time the author took to show the mind-numbing stagnation of his life. You can't make people like your characters, but they will be more inclined to if you just show them what it's like to be that character.

That about covers it. Maybe I'll get around to good description, nothing for its own sake, and no stupid crap later. Hope you've enjoyed this.

Currently reading : Summer Knight (The Dresden Files, Book 4) By Jim Butcher Release date: 03 September, 2002

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More of a Ramble than a Rant; This One's About Writer-y Crap

So as you all (all two of you) know, I like to write. I also like to theorize. Here's a short dissertation:

There is no such thing as a bad plot, only bad execution.

Hear me out:

1. A shit-kickin' farmboy leaves homes, gets a glowy sword, and saves the galaxy through pacifism. (Star Wars: The Good Ones.)

2. Two short fucks take a long-ass road trip in order to ditch a rather tasteful and elegant piece of jewelry. (Lord of the Rings.)

3. Two losers spend a work day yakkin' about crap. (Clerks.)

On the flip side:

1. A band of disparate heroes race against time to save a kingdom from both internal and external threats. (Dungeons and Dragons: The Movie.)

2. Can a man be damned by love, or is it just that experiencing love further unbalances him to the point of damnation? (Star Wars: The Shitty Ones.)

(For those of you who might miss the obvious, the first group is movies that are good despite their ultra-gooby plots; the second is movies with great plot ideas that sucked ass anyway.)

The Point: Despite the fact that the Writer's Manuals all say you need Plot and Character, Plot's only importance is that it exists at all. Without good execution, plot is nothing.

Good execution includes: Good characters, good description, nothing for its own sake, and no stupid crap.

Some day I'll expand on that in another blog.

Currently reading : We Came All the Way from Cuba So You Could Dress Like This: Stories By Achy Obejas Release date: September, 1994

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A New Day

I did this as an exercise. Could I write a story about a person who not only didn't speak, but didn't understand speech? A story with no dialogue or inner rambling to fill up the parts where the action lagged? I think I did OK.

A New Day:

It seemed that there was no such thing as time, only a series of actions endlessly repeated. Wake up. Check the peephole in the door. If it was open, stare at the person staring in. If it was closed, wrestle with the straitjacket in an attempt to loosen the seams. Follow this program until food is brought. Quietly be fed while staring fixedly at the person doing the feeding. Once they've left, continue the previous program until the next meal. There are three meals a day. After lights out, wrestle until sleep. This sequence of actions was what the Sane Ones called a day.

And then, she broke the seams. Raising her newly freed arms and cocking her head to look at her bare shoulders, she pondered this change. What had happened? After a few minutes of white noise pushing through her brain, she gave up and began to experiment with her new range of motion. Stepping carefully around the room, she raised one arm and then the other. She moved them back and forth. She rotated them in their sockets. And all of this slowly, as if she couldn't believe these arms were hers. Finally, she wound up in a corner, turning her hands back and forth in front of her face, gazing now at her fingerprints, now at her nails.

When that became boring, she dropped her hands and raised her eyes. And there in front of her was the door. Wide eyed, she stumbled toward it, stopping only when brought up short by its physical presence and then staring fixedly at the closed peephole. After a while she took two steps back and then walked into the door again. And again. And again. After the third time, her face began to twitch and move, attempting to do what hadn't been done for a long time, if ever: assume an expression. She was unaware of the welling emotion causing this facial resolution until it surfaced in its fullness, creating a look on a face not used to looking; she was puzzled.

Gradually, the muscles in her face resolved themselves back into their usual blankness. She raised her hands from her sides and pushed them out until they were touching the door. She ran her hands over the door, pushing, pulling, scratching, turning until it opened. Unknowing and not caring why, she stepped aside to let it fall open and then moved into a dark, empty, quiet hallway. Turning right with her whole body, she began to walk.

It was a new program. Trudge down a hallway or corridor. Stop at a door. Employ the arm motions which make it open. Repeat. But before time could dilate again, she began to feel weak and empty. She slowed to a stop. Again, her face began to work itself into an expression, this time of fear. Without understanding what she was feeling or even why there were feelings at all, she knew something was wrong. Cautiously, she began to move forward again, blazing soulless eyes glaring out of a confused and fearful face.

The world became a terrifying place. While each new hallway or corridor was different from the one before, they still showed no sign of ending. It was not a new program, when every time she turned a corner it was different. And, always, a feeling of weakness, that sometimes became dizziness. Something was wrong. The whole world was wrong.

Her eyes began to blink and her lips to twitch. Water welled up between her eyelids and spilled down her cheeks. She stood there, shaking and crying, utterly lost and ready to die.

And then the miracle happened. Something came around the corner; something shaped like her, with hands and hair and a mouth. And out of that mouth, what noise! A strange, gabbling series of sounds assaulted her ears from that mouth, as the something lunged at her with very wide eyes.

In the absence of thought and sanity, instinct took over. She leaped at the something, thumbs to eyes and teeth to throat. They struggled in the hallway, driving each other into the walls with their legs and tearing at hair and clothes with their hands. She kept her teeth on its throat, tearing and gnawing, and eventually the something weakened and fell. She sat up and swallowed and came to a realization. She was weakening because she hadn't had food.

But now she did. She smiled, and expression utterly foreign to her face, and began to eat. Today was a good day, after all.

Currently reading : Storm Front (The Dresden Files, Book 1) By Jim Butcher Release date: 10 April, 2000

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Love by the River

Walking through the park, down by the river, he spied a cute girl at the edge of the water. She was wearing a long, sleeveless, muddy green dress, with no shoes and her hair undone and waving in the breeze. He walked to the sno-cone stand, eyes still on her, and ordered two cones, one cherry and one coconut.

He let her see him coming, and when he got to her, he said, "So, are you more a cherry girl or a coconut girl?"

"Cherry," she said, smiling warily, "why?" When he handed her the cherry sno-cone, the smile became open and relaxed, and he fell head over heels in love. All he knew was that he had to get her to like him, to want to see him again. Asking for her phone number right away would be creepy, and giving out his would make him desperate and forgettable.

What he had was time, time to try and make her laugh, with funny stories about his childhood, and ask her questions about hers. She was an orphan, raised by maiden aunts who wanted her to grow up old, alone, and man-hating like them. He said that parents were overrated, and told her about how they wanted him to give up his art for engineering, and get one of those vaunted "computer jobs" that are the latest fad in middle class boredom.

They spent the day talking, as the sun moved overhead. Later in the day, he bought them hot dogs and Cokes, and they had an impromptu picnic. Still later, as the sun balanced on top of the horizon, he reflected that today had been a perfect day. The kind that one man in a million gets once every hundred years. He knew it had to end, and decided that, maybe, now he could ask for her phone number. It didn't seem nearly so forward, not now that, "Marry me and I'll love you forever" was bursting through his chest and up his throat and pressing on the backs of his teeth.

He smiled, and looked into her eyes, and the sun sank below the horizon, and her eyes gained a sadness he would never understand. He wanted to ask her why, and tell her he'd do anything to bring back the smile that stole his heart, but she grabbed his head in both her hands and kissed him. Kissed him like it was their wedding day, like today was the first day of forever, like hot dogs and sno-cones and falling in love in the park, and right before it ended she tumbled into the river and pulled him in after her.

They rolled to the bottom together, around and around, with her hands on his head and his arms and legs flailing. All that was left in his mind was panic at the thought of drowning and she took the opportunity to memorize his features, stare into his eyes, feel all the regret she'd have no time for later. For him, her true love for a day. Finally, his thrashing slowed, and then stopped, as his eyes clouded over. She waited for true unconsciousness to come before her true face came out, but even among her ugly, gnarled rusalka features, her eyes were full of sadness and love.

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Tara's Top 5 Times the Creators Got Revenge on the Fans

Edit: I tried to post this blog on October 15. That's why my Livejournal fans saw it first, because Myspace sucks. Here it is anyway:

Yeah, you saw it. Sometimes, being creative comes with no reward. Sometimes, what you were trying to do gets ignored in favor of people paying attention to completely unimportant crap. Here's 5 occasions where I think getting fed up and giving it back was done the best.

5. Eddie Fiore from Kindred: the Embraced. Everyone who's ever seen a Brujah played badly knows Eddie. A complete thug with the social skills of something extinct, Eddie shit on his 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc. chances until he needed to die. Newsflash: Vampire ain't about being King Shit in the Toilet Bowl. It's about Personal Horror, and Eddie had to die to learn that.

4. Kingdom Come. A while back, DC released a dystopian future what-if about the DC Universe going horribly wrong. The superheroes of the future, children and grandchildren of current superheroes, have no direction. The superhero fights of the future aren't about crime, or vice, or saving the world. They're all about what the evil fanboys won't stop talking about: cool outfits and super powers. And they're destroying the world.

3. Deacon Frost from Blade. He was a fantastic villain, but ultimately, his lack of respect for tradition left with no allies to pick him up after Blade kicked his ass. (This only makes sense if you've played in a Vampire LARP. Otherwise, I'd have to write you a dissertation.)

2. Impulse gets shot in the kneecap in the Teen Titans. Impulse was the very model of a modern major fanboy. Short attention span, never doubts his own motives, and annoying as fuck. Add in a stupid back story ("I'm here from the future, because. . . DC needed another monthly book to pay the power bill with?"), and you've got a character designed to be hated. It all came to a head one day, when Deathstroke shot him in the knee, after saying, "Kids shouldn't wear costumes." I don't know how I feel about the message, but the shot to the knee was tight.

1. Wolverine loses that damned adamantium. The Gary Stu to beat all Gary Stus, Wolverine was designed to appeal to everything wrong with the comics community. He had amnesia, so no annoying backstory to distract from the ass kicking. He was obnoxious and rude. And he couldn't be killed or beaten in a fight. This guy was never going to get what was coming to him, because no one could give it! In vain attempts to make him more interesting, creators made him more and more Stu-y. (Failed relationships that weren't his fault, check. Memories come back, he was used by the government, check. Soon we'll have 100% Gary Stu!) Finally, Wolverine pisses off the wrong guy. And if you guessed the guy who controls metal, my favorite, Magneto!, you're right. Magneto pulls that stupid adamantium out, finally turning Wolverine into a real character who's flaws weren't all in his personality. Thank you, Magneto. You were always my favorite.

10:46 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Realism in RPG's

(Preface: I am shit-faced. Ergo, I ramble.)

Realism in RPG's is overrated.

Waaaaay overrated.

(When I say realism, I mean mechanics-wise. As in, wind drag on swords is less in real life, so it should be easier to use a sword in a game. For example.)

Do you really want to play in a game which requires a 2x2 mile table including modifiers for wind speed, inches of rain, and miles above sea level? Because these things do affect real life.

Every time someone uses real life to justify something horrible in a game (like how easy it is to get a certain weapon because Walmart sells them), I want to ask them if they're willing to take negative modifiers because of today's inversion. (Which is evil. When the inversion affects smokers, it's gone too far.)

If realism was so important, you wouldn't be playing a Vampire/Werewolf/Elven fuckin' Ranger. And there wouldn't be any ex-Navy SEALs allowed into the game until it already had 50 clerks, 20 bureaucrats, and 5 chomos.

I'm just sayin'.

Twisted Tea is the shit, yo. It  fuckers me right up.

10:05 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Some Thoughts About the Fourth Season of Angel

I've been rewatching Angel again, and it's occurred to me that after the Third Season, the show fell apart. Season Four dragged. It didn't have the previous seasons pace and drive. So, here's the ramble on why I think that happened.

1. First and foremost, Charisma Carpenter's unexpected pregnancy. I finally found the confirmation that this changed everything. Cordelia was originally supposed to be the End of Season enemy, but the filming of the big fight was scheduled very near her due date. They had already filmed the start of the storyline, and so they threw in Cordy having sex with Connor (yuck!) to give her character a reason to be pregnant. Then the result of the pregnancy could be the Big Bad.

2. The result of the pregnancy, the goddess Jasmine. With not a lot of time to develop this character, she wound up with none. Which is really bad, because a secondary character should not have as much screen time as she did. In Season Five of Buffy, the goddess Glory was given quite a few episodes to develop and lay out her plans. She's still a very popular villain. Jasmine didn't get the same, and it hurt the show.

3. The story dragged. There was a lot of pointless running around and talking. In the best episodes of Angel, every moment shows you something new. The action should not only be fast paced, it should lead to results. And not the heroes getting their asses handed to them episode after episode. That only works if everybody rallies at the end for an inspiring ass kicking of the bad guy, which did not happen in this Season. Angel, and his moods, ran the whole thing. As Angelus, he killed the Beast. As Angel, he revealed Jasmine. Instead of teamwork, we have a whole crew of whiny sidekicks for Angel.

4. Connor. This character was a bad idea from start to finish. This was an action/horror show, and adding a baby did nothing for it. Then, we use a demon dimension to retcon the baby into a whiny, petulant, easily-led-by-anybody-evil teenager. With the rest of the cast full of adults who are wise beyond their years, for one reason or another, Connor stood out as a roadblock to good story. (Which is a shame, because the actor's pretty good.)

What I would have done to fix it:

1. Pulled Cordelia out. I would have wrote in an episode where the gang finds out that Cordy's possessed. They try to exorcise her, but instead the Big Bad dimensionally swaps places with her, then escapes into L.A. This means you don't have to write in a ridiculous reason for Cordy to be pregnant, and you can always bring her back in a big rescue storyline later on. It took three Seasons of Buffy to turn Amy the rat back into Amy the witch, and that subplot wasn't half bad. (Yes, the magic addiction Say No to Drugs subplot blew big donkey dick. But the character of Amy as the immature enabler with power issues was pretty cool.)

2. Given Connor a moment of realization, then pulled him out too. The character decides to meditate in a monastery for a few years to get his head on straight, much like Oz from Buffy Season Four. Then, he too can come back for better story later.

At this point, you can re-write the rest of the Season to have it run like the last half of Buffy Season Three. A known Big Bad, a race against time, with reasonable losses, and an epic fight at the end. And what a good end it would have been.

1:29 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment