Review: Avenging Superheroes - Part 1

Next summer the superhero movie to top all superhero movies is coming out: Avengers. And I couldn't have cared less a few weeks ago. My brother told me about Iron man, my friends talked about Thor, and still I didn't budge until the day the trailer came out and I watched it. I've never had my mind changed so fast, and all it took was one name. It wasn't the trailer itself that impressed me, it was the discovery that Avengers is written and directed by none other than Joss Whedon. (I think my exact reaction was "Why did no one tell me?")

Suddenly I went from not caring less about Avengers to being very, very interested in seeing it. But I was already behind the game. I didn't know any of the main players. So I set out to find the characters' original movies and watch them. This meant stalking the library for Thor, Green Lantern, and Captain America, and getting the rest on Netflix.

Ivan Danko

Iron Man 2


"Did you see Iron Man 1?"
"No, it wasn't available instant view on Netflix. The library had two copies, but managed to lose them both. So I read the plot synopsis on Wikipedia instead."

Besides, the villain in Iron Man 2 is more cool. No, seriously. Maybe not the character himself, but his weapons are cool. This is definitely a symptom of the villain being cooler then the hero...

Tony Stark is, in his own words, "a billionaire playboy philanthropist." He's also dying. I can't help but wonder, in a society as advanced as this, isn't there some better method of preventing shrapnel from penetrating to your heart? Can't you do surgery, or something? I feel very sorry for Tony; not because he's dying, but because the writer's are clearly putting him through everything for the sake of the furtherance of the plot.

My favorite character, though, was Tony's friend James Rhodes. I love that sort of friendship in a film. Romance is all fine and well, but romance is overdone. I like just seeing ordinary friendship built on mutual trust. James stole the Iron Man suit, but Tony trusted him with access in the first place. It was James who didn't trust his friend, which he later realized and apologized for and everything was happy.

Hulk

Betty Ross

My mom talked about the Incredible Hulk sometimes, the man who turned giant green when you made him angry. As children we always thought that was funny. As a film, it's still funny. It's so totally an old superhero they're trying to bring up to modern standards, but I always got the Jolly Green Giant and The Incredible Hulk mixed up and so all I can think is "Oh, he's big and green!" I don't care how dramatic the music was, how flashy the cinematography was, or how long the movie was. Nothing can eliminate the entire dated feel of the storyline.

The cinematographer clearly thought he was brilliant, but he only succeeded in being distracting. There were a couple of really pretty shots, and there were a lot of really flashy ones. Instead of cutting from the character talking to see the look on the face of the character listening Frederick Elmes would show us both at once, in a split screen or an inset. I never knew which one to look at or pay attention to. To make things worse, the movie was way too long. 2 hours and 18 minutes is one way of measuring it, the fact that it took a full minute for anyone to say anything was another, and the really long and drawn out fighting/rampaging scenes was yet another.

Also, the villain is more cool then the hero! Bruce's dad can blend with the elements. And elementals are just plain cool. Also, elementals are the good guys. Raging green hulks are the ones you should be afraid of. The reversal of roles was confusing, disorienting, and dissatisfying. The real villain was the idiotic military commander who tortured Bruce into changing.

Incidentally, Bruce is also the name of Batman, so we have two superheroes with the first name. How shall we ever keep them straight?

Remind me what makes Hulk a superhero again?

In Conclusion
Patiently waiting for the library to get the other movies on their shelves. The last time it took two months. Meanwhile I'm going to stick to animated superheros like... Megamind!

The Cliff-face and the PTO Shaft

[We have] seen the valley itself, which is as dark as pitch. We also saw there the hobgoblins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit; we heard also in that valley a continual howling and yelling, as of a people in unutterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and irons; and over that valley hangs the discouraging clouds of confusion; death also doth always spread his wings over it; in a word, it is every whit dreadful, being utterly without order.
- Pilgrim's Progress

I had a friend once, an ex-Mennonite who'd been excommunicated because he wouldn't back down on what he believed. He was also a self-taught vet, and we spent a lot of time together in the barnyard. Sometimes conversations about what semen to order turned into discussions about theology, and he would sit at the kitchen table with my dad for hours. I sat on the other side of the room, listened, and wrote.

Mennonites are legalistic, even excommunicated ones. My dad is very not legalistic, and of necessity debate ensued. A debate that took an interesting turn, when it became a discussion about why it was necessary to discuss differences...

I saw then in my dream, so far as this valley reached, there was on the right hand a very deep ditch; that ditch is it into which the blind have led the blind in all ages, and have both there miserably perished. Again; behold, on the left hand there was very dangerous quagmire, into which, if even a good man falls, he can find no bottom of his foot to stand on. The pathway was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good CHRISTIAN was the more put to it; for when he sought in the dark to shun the ditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the other; also when he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness, he would be ready to fall into the ditch.
- Pilgrim's Progress 

 Strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. And it is narrow, very narrow. Dangerously narrow, so that keeping to the center of it is a difficulty even for the strongest. Perpetually one is straying to one side or the other, but on both sides lie dangers. The way my friend described it thus:

One one side of the path is the sheer drop of Legalism. Fearful of that the liberals stay as far away as possible. Too many friends have gone over that cliff and never made it back onto the path.

On the other side, however, is the spinning PTO shaft of License. I'm afraid of heights and want to stay as far away from that cliff as possible, but my friend had seen too many people chewed up in the PTO shaft, and wants to avoid it at all costs.

Time out! What's a PTO shaft?

That, my friends, is what makes this description so vivid. A PTO shaft is a moving part on the back of the tractor that makes things turn. It's what makes the blade of a bush-hog mower go round and round, or the bands on a hay-baler. It's metal, and it spins, and you do not get near it when it's spinning. You do not ride on the back of a tractor when the PTO shaft is engaged. You do not stand too close to a spinning shaft with loose clothes on. If something gets caught in that shaft it will wind you in, mercilessly. If the operator of the tractor is fast enough to shut it off you might get out alive.

It's a description only a farmer or someone who lives with tractors would understand at first glance, but it's a description farmers and people who live with tractors can not easily get out of their mind.

So you're walking along that cliff I'm so afraid of, but I'm dangerously close to that PTO shaft, and my hair is down. I'm calling out to you, "Get away from that cliff!" and you're holding out your hands to me, begging me to get away from the PTO. And we are both backing into danger.

Only.

You are my friend, and you trust me, and you hold out your hand to lead me away from the PTO and I take it to pull you away from the cliff, and we walk that way, each balancing the other, pulling each other back from the every present danger.

Fear of Falling

"I realized, the moment I fell into the fissure..."
Riven's Star Fissure

“Where angels fear to tread... even now, standing on the edge. It's that feeling you get. Right in the back of your head. Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on... ... It's not the urge to jump, that's too kind. It's deeper than that. It's the urge to fall.”

- Doctor Who; the Satan Pit

 Somewhere all my darkest fears are gathering,
It's not enough to save the day, I can't escape my nightmares.

- Chameleon Circuit; Nightmares

We're writers. As writers we take the role of God in our stories, dealing out life and death, happiness and despair. As writers we are entitled to a certain amount of insanity, and we revel in our power, make jokes about tormenting our characters, and gleefully keep a death toll. As writers we mirror and exaggerated real life, and what would any story be without a bit of conflict?

Then comes the darkness. The nights alone, with our pen and paper, typing out desperately the fate of our favorites. The more we love a character, the worse it seems we treat him. We grow out of fairytales and develop a vicious desire to show the world how bitterly hopeless life can be. We exalt in this rite of passage, in our ability to tear at our readers heart strings, and to bring people to tears with the grief and pain we depict.

And then, we look back on what we have written, and are ashamed. I wrote that. I was capable of writing that. And more then that, I enjoyed it. If I can write about it in such detail and with such pleasure, what is to keep me from crossing that line of reality, so fragile already in my mind?

We write because we have to. We are compelled to. And when we fear our own writing that is when we write the best. We argue, we debate. How dark is too dark? How violent is too violent? At what point should we cease to shed our characters' innocent blood? Even once we've convinced ourselves that what we write is true, is just, and is acceptable, we do not cease to fear it. We do not stop awaking in the night, haunted by the darkness in the world and in us.

We ask, is this our conscience calling to us? Is this an alarm telling us to stop? Is being a sadistic writer really something to be proud of? And, above all, how do I know when to stop?

When you stop being afraid.

When you wake up one day and the violence doesn't affect you. When your characters' cry for mercy and you no longer hear. When what you've written before really doesn't seem all that violent, and the scenes your friends cry over don't touch you. When you can't see the horror and the pain, then you have gone too far. When you become proud of the goriest parts of your story, instead of ashamed, then be afraid.

A construction worker far above the ground is afraid of falling. It's a long way down, and there's nothing keeping him from falling except his own will. Stand too close to the edge and you could fall over. He is afraid, and he stays away. Don't be silly, his friends say. It's perfectly safe. You couldn't fall off of here any more than you could fall off your front porch. “I've fallen off my front porch,” he says, and stays away from the edge. Still, his co-workers taunts haunt him. Perhaps it is silly to be afraid. Perhaps it's just something he needs to get over, this fear of heights. Or maybe this is the wrong job for him, if he can't stomach him. Day after day these things eat away at him, and over time he becomes less afraid. He stands up straight near the edge, he looks daringly down at the street below. He walks with confidence, bold and fearless.

That is when he falls.

Confidence betrays, you can no longer distinguish between bravery and foolishness. Fear the darkness. Be afraid of heights. Be afraid, and live. Cry for your characters; lie awake and keep watch for your demons. Be hesitant of blood and pain. Never wish to meet your villain. Never wish to be him. Shudder at your vulnerability, and never loose sight of the darkness. Stay away from the edge in case you lose your footing and find yourself...

...falling.

Doctor Seven

Star Trek: Assignment: Earth

 The last episode of Star Trek; the Original Series Season Two was the first episode of a new, spin off series. This was the only episode of that series to air, and no one is quite sure what became of it. Doctor Who fans will assert, however, that Gary Seven was either an impostor or the Seventh Doctor in disguise, for who else could possess the same marvelous technology?

Gary Seven's "Sonic Device."

The Tenth Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver

Gary Seven's manufactured credentials

Psychic Paper

However, there is one difference which we can be quite sure of... at least when it comes to the Tenth Doctor's incarnation. The Doctor is not a cat person.

National Novel Writing Month

October 31st. I know what everyone else is writing about: costumes and candy and pumpkins and witches. It's a day of skeletons, of harvest time, of black and orange. It's a day of worshiping Celtic deities and appeasing potentially malevolent ancestors. What day is that? All Hallows Eve, of course, or Hallowe'en.

But that's what everyone else is writing about. Boring. Not to mention a bit creepy, once you start studying the ancient and pagan rites that surround it... so I'm going to tell you about another event that occurs on this day. Tonight, at midnight, all over the world, writers everywhere are going to pick up a pen, or touch fingers to keypads and start typing on one of the most popular challenges anywhere: Nanowrimo.

Ah, the marvelous magical madness of mayhem that begins on the first of November and continues until the end of that fair month. This is my third year, and I like to think I know the process fairly well. This then is your grand tour to that mystical place called Nanoland.

First you need to meet the important people behind this madness. First and foremost is Chris Baty, the insane writer who founded the program, and this year stepped down to pursue his dream of becoming a published author. He is known for wearing a viking hat, for running, and for making hilarious videos to inspire others to write at a pace as insane as his own. He's the author of "No plot? No problem!" the handbook for wrimos and "Nanoland Chronicles; Bedtime stories for Wrimos."

I hear your pleas for mercy. "Slow down," you say. "What's a wrimo?"

National Novel Writing Month abbreviates as NaNoWriMo. Now forget what those words stand for, because only the abbreviated version is important. Nanoland is the place where novels are written. Nanowrimos are the people who write them in Nanoland. Wrimo is an affectionate abbreviation for those people.

Next in the line up of Important People is Lindsey Grant. She is the voice of reason behind the throne of genius, or in this case, the voice of insanity behind the throne of Chris Baty. (Really, I don't know what Nanoland will be without Chris Baty. It's like Holy Worlds without Jay Lauser, or Apple without Steve Jobs. It kind of defies the imagination...)

And the third person you absolutely must recognize is Dragonchilde, also known as Heather Dudley. Dragonchilde is the head moderator of Nanoland, the sort of Marshall or Enforcer. She posts the rules, she notifies you of infractions. She's everywhere at once, a veritable whirlwind of moderating. She makes it her goal to read every single post on the forum, although she confessed that eventually that becomes impossible. All hail the moderators!

Continuing on our grand tour! Like with most writers wrimos are skilled at the art of procrastination. Rulers of Nanoland recognized this fact and, rather than squash it, they chose to foster it. There are many ways of procrastinating.

1. The Procrastination Station. This is the lower right tile found on the Dashboard, which is the Nanowrimo homepage. Every day it is updated with new links to suck your time such as "How many gallons of ketchup it takes to flood a cave" and "How many cubic feet of jello would fill the White House?"

2. NanoVideo. Every day last year a new video was posted by the staff at Nanowrimo, ranging from the pointlessly hilarious, to plot dares, to effective word boosting tips.

3. Nanotoons. Some made cartoons about wrimos!!!

4. Games and Diversions. "If there's one thing more exciting than working on your novel in November, it's not working on your novel in November!" Thus proclaims the description of this forum, who's sole existence is the playing of word games such as: Convince Cleverbot to join Nanowrimo, Last Post, and The Abbreviation Game.

However, November isn't all about fun and games. It's about writing, seriously writing. And sometimes you need to talk about that writing. The forums are equipped with rooms for every type of conversation imaginable, from age grouping to occupation, to genre. But if you're really stuck then you venture into the world of Nano Tips and Strategies. Here is the Adoption Society, where you can hunt down a sidekick for your MC, or an annoying sibling for your villain. Or you can adopt a setting for that gruesome murder, or a food to eat at your MC's favorite restaurant. Or check out the Reference Desk for help on the distance between Alaska and New Hampshire, a believable speed for knitting a carpet large enough to carry an army, or the amount of hot chocolate packages you would need to fill a bathtub. Get help on how to reach those 50,000 words with tips, tricks, and just plain cheating, or go over to plot doctoring and find away around that persnickety wall that has reared itself in your path.

NanoLand is a kingdom with a culture all of it's own. Obsessive Word Counting is one aspect of the world, but there are others as well. I'd like to introduce you straight off to some favorite elements.

1. Word wars! I love word wars. It's such a pity that they tend to go out of season after November. No better way to boost your word count and feel competitive at the same time. Best done with people you know, preferably people you can chat with.

2. The Traveling Shovel of Death. Death by Shovel. How does that work? Well, if you're really stuck, maybe the TSoD will find it's way into your novel. It can be sneaky, sometime's it's a murder weapon, sometimes it's just a means of tripping the unfortunate character.

3. Plot Bunnies! Plot bunnies are the makers of Rabbit Trails. Very similar to Idea Fish they hop about wreaking havoc with your plot, taking your novel in directions you never intended it to go. One method of dealing with plot bunnies is to drop them off at the Adoption Society, or leave them at the bunny daycare center.

4. The Knights of Nanowrimo. For years these friends have ridden together, courageously battling through the Plains of Writer's Block and the Forest of Procrastination, being stopped by Rabbit Warren, or the Gloom of Real Life Duties. Mounted on brave steeds and armed with sharp weapons they press onward, always onward, fighting their way to the kingdom of 50,000. Melodrama is ours, banners waving high in the air proclaiming our quest, and never mind the laughter of those upon the site of our awkward appearance and progress. Join us in epic speechifying as we get our wandering quest underway!

Those are the highlights of Nanowrimo as I have experienced it for the past two years. To explain it all would take a book the size of a Nanoer's novel, and I do not wish to bore you anymore. You must proceed to the site and see for yourself other wonders such as Shoutouts, and Donation Halos. No where else will you find such freedom to be a writer, to write with abandon, to care for nothing but that final word count. Whether you actually turn out anything useful can be arbitrary, if you have truly joined into the wonderful group effort of writing a novel in November.

Parallel Episodes: Turn off your blue tooth!

Turn off your bluetooth! It may be manipulating you. 

 Stargate: Revisions
SG-1 visits a planet that is uninhabitable except for a small bubble of life. During their stay they notice the bubble shrinking, but the inhabitants have no memory of it being any larger after each shrink. To make matters more suspicious they refuse to remove their ear pieces that tie them into the central network.

Doctor Who: Rise of the Cybermen

Beware of using the same EarBud your neighbor does, they might be connected to a secret network that can control your mind. John Lumic was a brilliant, if a bit off-kilter inventor of cybernetics, including the popular EarBuds used by nearly everyone to directly access a central network. Unfortunately, when Lumic decides that the world would be better of safely encased inside emotionless metal frames he is able to use this network to force everyone with access to comply.

Doctor Who: Sound of Drums

Check your cell phone too. In the Year That Never Was the Master used the Archangel Cell Phone Network to send a message around the world, unseen, creeping into people subconscious. Four drum beats had a hypnotic effect, guaranteeing his election. 

The Perfect Ending

I'm sure Doctor Who isn't the only show that has recently reached an astonishing conclusion, before returning to entertain us all next year. But since it's the only show I've actually watched as it was airing it's the only comparison you're going to get.

Season six was season to top all previous seasons. Rumors of the main plot had been growing as far back as season five. Not typically having a plot that reaches across seasons this was somewhat unusual, and had everyone a bit excited. And the plot thickened, until the list of questions that had been asked was long enough that we were constantly forgetting something, and remembering new things, and waiting with bated breath for the finale. And the finale came, with all the brilliance we'd expected of the producer, all questions answered, all loop holes tied up. For not planning in advance it was amazing.

But, days and weeks passed. We talk and talk about the finale, making connections, figuring out complex time loops. And this unsettling feeling grows that there were things that weren't properly addressed. Story arcs that started, and never ended. A host of things that weren't explained to our satisfaction. But it's a TV show. They make it up as they go along. Sometimes things just don't line up, we live with it, and hope they do better next time.

We are born with an innate desire for completion. Whenever we read a book or watch a movie we like everything to be explained at the end. If something is really complex or involved we sometimes wonder how it's even possible for everything to tie together. If it does we admire the writer, if it doesn't we grumble about them. This is most easily seen in mystery stories. So often we get hung up on a particular clue, certain it's the answer, only to find it's only purpose was to mislead us, and what kind of purpose is that?

Let me present to you the most confusing story in the history of long running plots. It's most often referred to as the Holy Bible. Reading through the books of Daniel, of Isaiah, of Revelation it reads almost like gibberish. How can any of it make sense? Many, many interpretations have been made of what it all means, but do any of those take into account every last verse or prophecy? The ones that have been fulfilled are marked by startling accuracy, such as the fall of Jerusalem and the fall of Rome. But who can make sense of the ones yet to come?

We can guess, obsess and speculate. But ultimately we must wait for the finale. No, The Finale. The finale Finale. The end of all things, the beginning of all things. The Finale to end all finales. And do you know what? It's going to be a perfect ending. Every last word of prophecy is going to fit in somewhere. There aren't going to be any loose ends or superfluous remarks. Every last, tiny detail is going to fit into that ending in complexion that we can only stare and wonder at. It's going to be brilliant. It's going to be the most awe-inspiring complete ending that the world will ever see.

Remember that. Every time you see an ending you think was well done or poorly done, it's only our feeble attempt to achieve that Ultimate Finale; the Perfect Ending.