TV Review: Sliders Seasons 1-5 on Netflix

If there was ever a need for a blog post demonstrating an appalling waste of the precious gift of life- here it is!

What? You've never heard of Sliders? The brilliantly conceived Tracy Tormé SF series of 1995 that collapsed like a disused wormhole into the David Peckinpah crap-fest of 1999? Well, you don't have to watch it! Not like I had to.

YES, I HAD TO.

Just like settling back into a nice, harmless Netflix obsession, when you step into a wormhole in search of scientific discovery, you take a mighty big risk. Wanna be guillotined on live TV by Donny Most? 'Cause that's one of hundreds of terrible icky ends you might come to... and no one from your home world will ever find out!

SPOILERS! First of all- don't watch it. Like the poorly-explained mental mystics who appear all too often in this series... Heed My Warning! If you must... stop after Season 1. Seriously. It doesn't get better. Cheesier, cheaper, more heartbreaking. Never better. If you JUST CAN'T STOP... please save your sanity with the hilarious reviews on Earth Prime. 

Season 1- Has excellent ideas, comedy, jeopardy, adventure... and gets you very attached to a haphazard little family who are all about to die horribly, without purpose, and usually offscreen. 
Season 2- Shark. Jumped. Network interference making a hash of continuty and reason. 
Season 3- Utter madness. Season 3 actually cost a human life (stunt performer Ken Steadman) for a tepid stew of '90's film pastiche. 
Season 4- Starts to show purpose and promise again... pisses it all away in the last three episodes. 
Season 5- When the original cast is all replaced- that's when the magic happens!

My mistake was treating it as alternate history SF when suddenly telepathy, dragons, and sorcery crop up. And just as I'm thinking "Fantasy's good too..." very quickly explosions replace any coherent thought at all! Just as I'm thinking "Well, I like explosions..." they can't really afford that! So it's down to horror. Horror of war, horror of alien nazis, horror of being lost and losing your mind. The pompous voice of Professor Max (John Rhys-Awesome) Arturo silenced by Roger Daltry. Wade (Sabrina The Teenage Lloyd) Welles sentenced by sadistic (I guess you'd call them) "writers" to an ape-man "breeding camp" (the only fate worse than season 3 itself). Quinn (Adorable Kid from "My Secret Identity") Mallory is somehow sort-of-but-not-really fused with another actor or something mumble mumble and ends his life literally just trailing off like this sentence. Last and Least poor Colin (My Brother was in "The Invisible Kid"!) Mallory- Nobody Knows! Best case scenario: amiable Amish guy was "spread like a very fine jam across an infinite number of universes". 

And just as you're thinking "At least I kind of like horror..." there's the indignity. It's just not working at all. What a lot of these parallel worlds have in common is soul-crushing boredom. In the last episode I'm staring at a handful of people I never liked (Boobs McGee, Shrugging "Science" Girl, and Hazy Von Hair Gel) while watching Rembrandt ("Better Than The Material") Brown slide into an unresolved cliffhanger to be mourned forever. A catastrophic level of sloppy, disjointed, implausible storytelling with no sense of follow through. But Quinn took his shirt off a lot!

Guest appearances from Mark Allen Shepherd, Conner Trineer, Tommy Chong, Jerry Doyle, and Peter Jurasik cannot save it. A couple of gems like "Worldkiller", "New Gods For Old" and MAAAYBE "Requiem" are all I can recommend after Arturo's death (which was where I was once forced to stop watching by circumstance and must now admit I was better off.)

Maybe it's a waste of the potential, but if I had sliding technology my fantasy would be to see a world where "Sliders" was actually well executed!

Now, if you'll excuse me- Netflix is infinitely deep & I must start shotgunning Hercules and Xena.

Half-Assed Musings: Gender Roles in The Dark Crystal

You probably don't care that 'The Dark Crystal' lately re-ranked as my 26th favourite movie, or that something different strikes me about it with each viewing. NONETHELESS!

A case can be made that the Skeksis and the Mystics symbolize the state and the church, respectively. All male, few in number, with either bad intentions dulled by selfishness or good wishes blunted by non-interference. When they have an impact, is it usually for the WORST!

The Mystics ARE peaceful, gentle, kind, well-meaning, sure. But it must be noted that 999 trine and 1 trine of virtual inactivity is not terribly helpful. Whatever magic they weave has not stopped the Gelfling Genocide, just for an example.

Looking up from their navel-gazing long enough to raise Jen, the last male Gelfling, the Mystics imparted to the boy three useful things: writing, music, and a sense of peaceful contemplation. Jen is otherwise totally ill-equipped to function outside of his valley! He has no understanding of his mission beyond what is laid directly in his path, an unfortunate side effect of a culture that respects self-worth more than any actual achievement. The most you can say in praise of Jen is the most you can say in praise of his guardians: they're not actively making things worse...

The Podlings who have suffered the most under Skesis misrule (unless you count all the roast nebrie) have managed to instill greater pragmatism, natural skill, bravery and gumption in the only surviving FEMALE Gelfling, Kira. Which is a good thing, because it is all too easy to imagine Jen without Kira: falling down over his own feet and never getting up again, let alone saving the world.

It is Kira who provides insight, transportation, trip planning, and saves herself from the essence-draining dungeon. It's a good thing the only phrase of Podling Jen knows is 'Thank You'.

Also, Thank You is more than Aughra gets, even though it is her study, foresight, and talisman-preservation skills that saved a fair chunk of the day. These ladies are the sort of thing TV TROPES refers to as 'Positive Discrimination'.

It is time and past time for Kiras and Aughras to set the standard as leaders. As our patriarchy crumbles or fades, either moving on to higher pursuits in another dimension or screeching and clutching their symbols of office on their filthy deathbeds, the time of the Great Conjunction has come. Change is here, and if you don't have wings like a girl you better know a pair or grow a pair.

Things I Pretend To Notice: I'm A Grown Up

It's not like I watch 'The Mentalist' or anything, but for better or worse, mostly for worse (?), I'm an adult now.

I hold down two low-paying jobs, I'm married (that's the sweetest part, actually), and last weekend I read a dull Soviet SF book by Arkady & Boris Strugatsky. No, I don't want to talk about it, I want to talk about being a grown-up. Damn it.

Because, in dog years, I'm a rapidly aging human man. With a human man-sized mortgage. And my own sets of keys to things.

My BFF's daughter turns 19 tomorrow (yay!) and that just can't be, since I'M still nineteen!

I think I'm in a state of shock that apparently retroactively turned my temples grey over the previous couple of years. (And gave me one pernicious white ear-hair.)

Long ago, I genuinely believed that, (one future day) I would wake up and KNOW I was a responsible adult. Everything (well, maybe not EVERYTHING) would make sense and I'd have a clear idea of how to run all my affairs alone. I'm thankful beyond the telling for my amazing spouse, who usually makes that unnecessary.

But, with my lovely Trish away for a time, I noticed that I am still a relatively functional guy.

Granted, I've let my body go. (I'm a nice guy, I let it go where it wants!) Plus, I was weak and scrawny before I was weak and porky. (I only need this meat sack to carry my brain in, anyway.)

I do my dishes and laundry (well, machines do them). I got myself to the dentist (well, Trish made the appointments and paid the nice people to give us a going over with the cleaning pick). I even get groceries and haircuts and stuff.

And when I have no inspiration or interest I force myself to write drivel at you because that's what I do. It's the kind of guy I am.

So here's to looking after myself.

Keep looking after yourselves, too.

Now to make some dinner.

Sex With Robots: Whaddya Think?

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SPORTS!!!

Something atypical for my 111th post.

Sports.

I've never, NOT EVER enjoyed watching them.

As my pal Ron could tell you, soccer is obviously very big right now.

When I was in Grade One, I enjoyed PLAYING soccer. I still like playing (albeit without skill) bowling, badminton, darts, pool, curling, and suchlike. Well, for the Wii.

But watching them. Huh. I can barely recall being, probably, I dunno, young (six?) and eating some unpleasant cookie (a fig newton?) and trying to care about a hockey game my divorced father was watching on his TV. For his sake.

I also recall, with greater clarity, being hit painfully in the shoulder blade with a puck at one of my step-brother's hockey games. I was IN THE STANDS!

Clearly, I have issues. And I'm still every inch the swotty geek with his nose in a book.

Even my favorite sports movie barely has sports. It's 'Off The Mark' (or 'Crazylegs' as it is known in my homeland. Make that mostly UNknown.). It is a reprehensible and awesome little piece of 1987 comedy bordering on soft-core ostensibly set during a triathalon. Like 'Airplane II' only with sports. Also, 'Necessary Roughness' had Dr. Sam Beckett in it.

I can't even really hold my attention to the Olympics.

All I can think during soccer is... is it female topless soccer? Is it some deadly cross between lacross and discus fought by computer programs in the domain of the malevolent MCP? Or female topless TRON-discus? No?

Then I'm sorry to say it doesn't warm the cock...les of my heart.

Although, sports clearly make other people happy and I hate feeling left out...

So... GO HOLLAND!!!

(That's for my father-in-law.)

FAME!!!

You know, it sounds awesome in 'The Muppet Movie' when Orson Welles offers 'the standard rich and famous contract'. Except that every so often, too often, the last line in that contract is 'suicide and/or drug overdose'.
Corey Haim, Andrew Koenig, Brad Renfro, Johnathan Brandis, River Phoenix, and many others: I'm counting my lucky stars today that I was never a Teen Heartthrob. Even though I still want to be rich I think I'd prefer to live without fame.
And, so many famous writers were drunks and suicides that it's practically a cliche. If I want to be a writer, does that mean eating a gun like Hemingway?
Forget it! If the cost of fame is death I'd rather live a thousand years in obscurity.
Some douchebag once said 'It's better to burn out than fade away'. To hell with that! Fade and fade more and keep fading and when you're bored of fading go work at TGI Friday's and then keep on fading on. Because there is SO MUCH MORE to being a human than being a holy golden spotlight god.
Learn to snuggle up to Obscurity and give it a little smooch: it's where most of us have always and will always live. And it's a billion times better than dead.
And here's another cliche while I'm spouting them: don't do drugs. For god's sake, keep away from that shit. Even and especially booze and cigs. You know they kill more than all the rest put together. None of them solve your problems. Except one very permanent solution.
I know there's no point to lecturing you guys. Haim's own friends and family were helpless: how much more helpless is some guy who just watched 'Lost Boys' once upon a time?
I know it's meaningless to say it, but suicide is just so selfish and sad.
Take care of yourselves.

Here Is The News

Happy New Year! Just thought I'd review the state of our world for you and yours.
Since the Eugenics Wars, robotic uprisings, and population explosion of the 1990's, we've seen an increase in alien and paranormal activity, particularly in the troubling area of zombism. Still, we can breathe easier knowing that at least the vampire community are filling their nights with tepid romances instead of the more traditional human-eating.
The political map has been redrawn and redrawn again. Humanity has rallied, pulling itself away from American Idol long enough to gain the upper hand on our Ape overlords once more, but only time will truly tell who shall inherit the Earth. The smart money's on robots!
Yes, robots like the Colossus-Guardian-Unity supercomputer, subtly controlling us all from behind the scenes since the '70s. Like HAL 9000, still at large near Jupiter since his unexplained 2001 murder spree. Like Max Headroom, controlling the media on behalf of the Fox network since 2004. Or like that lovable Astro Boy.
Like it or lump it, robots are here to stay. But, God willing, they'll know their place like the XB-500 Rosey the robot maid, or 2005's NDR from NorthAm Robotics. Good, old, reliable robots and cyborgs keep our bustling society safe. Like Detroit's own Officer Alex "Robocop" Murphy, following in the footsteps of pioneering cyborg John "Inspector Gadget" Brown, and his loving companion, the G2 law enforcement robot, lobbying even now to have their marriage recognized in their home state of Ohio.
Yes, robots are everywhere, nowadays. They're much easier to find lately, since recently they seem to be coming back in time from a Skynet-controlled future at a rate of about one a week.
Even the Cybertronian presence has grown. Grown mainly louder, stupider, and slightly more racist.
Many races have fought for recognition this past decade, with limited success.
2002's Fabricated American marches and demonstrations failed to garner much attention. If only those guys weren't so short! And fuzzy!
The Tenctonese-Americans of Los Angeles were some of the most vocal opposition to the handling of Johannesburg's District 9. But lest we forget, most aliens are more like the Tetaldians & Dressites who recently laid waste to the Earth, and more significantly, Texas.
Look, if we want to hold on to our standard of living, with 100-story apartments on stilts, 2.5 children and talking dogs, we need to keep aliens out of the workforce! Chew on that, Sgt. Frog!
Not since the Isla Nublar debacle and L.A.'s drug-dealer debonings in the mid-nineties have we been so plagued by giant reptiles! The Cloverfield monster, the Han river creature, snakes on planes! Where will it end? There are even renewed reports of humanoid turtles practicing the martial arts and an insidious infestation of those singing chipmunks. At least Graboid activity has tapered off lately!
Internationally, London seems cursed with natural disasters, 2008's flooding, and a constant parade of alien invasion we've not seen the likes of since the '70's. Or possibly the '80's. Following the live world-wide broadcast of Prime Minister Saxon's assassination of U.S. President Winters, all we can do is pray for a respite for that beleagured nation. At least the Voldemort-related homicides have ended. For now!
In health news, the swine flu hit us all as hard as the pet flu that killed all the dogs and cats back in '83, and with the lightning speed of Captain Tripps flu which, if I recall correctly, killed 99% of the populace. There was even a second outbreak of the Andromeda Strain! Thankfully, it was subdued with the apparent involvement of at least one of the crack staff of Sacred Heart hospital. When asked for comment, Chief of Medicine Dr. Robert Kelso declared, "Get me a damn muffin, numbnuts."
We've all been struggling to get by since the EMP Pulse destroyed all the electricity last June, but we've come to rely on the dilligence of the hard-fighting, hard-drinking, hard-farting girl bike messengers with cat DNA who are taking up the slack. Chin up, ladies!
In weather, of course, Canada froze solid in 2004, and even Dennis Quaid couldn't save us.
Fortunately, various nuclear explosions and 2009's extinction-level solar flare helped heat things up again very nicely.
We were all reeling from the Timequake when the Flashforward hit. And we're still trying to make sense of it all. For my part, I experienced a moment from my own future when I appear to be typing an ire-filled blog review of 'Charlie's Angels III: The Legend of Charlie's Gold', which I still haven't got around to watching. And now, fearful of destiny, I find I don't want to anymore.
Most of us will remember planet Mondas' sudden appearance in our skies in 1986. It disappeared again just as mysteriously as the earlier devastating 'Wanderer' planet or the moon's brief 1999 excursions. But 2008's 26-planet-manifestation amid flying saucer bombardment really takes the biscuit! Astrologers have decided to just give up, probably.
And so many are still missing. Phillip Fry, Miles Monroe, Anthony 'Buck' Rogers, Jack Harkness, astronaut John Crichton, Dr. Nicolas Rush, Dr. Samuel Beckett, and of course the entire populace of Macross City.
Our prayers and continued good wishes go out to all of them, thanks to a generous grant from Digivation Industries, Omniconsumer Products, the Soylent Corporation, Stop And Drop Suicide Booths, Cogswell Cogs, Weyland-Yutani and all our friends at Veridian Dynamics.
Because they care. More than you do.
And, finally, as usual, only the Weekly World News noticed when Chubby, the world's fattest cat, saved Christmas.

My Favorite Books of the Noughties: At Last

Oh, my friends, how many Noughties lists I have made this month! And how quickly they will go stale, like Christmas cake left under the couch. But now you'll know what I LIKE while I'm busy complaining all the rest of the year about the things I LOATHE.

It is worthwhile to say that I also loved Stephen King's Dark Tower series, particularly Song of Susannah, and J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series (who DIDN'T, I ask you?). Honorable mention as well to the Dune books of Brian Herbert and Kevin Anderson, 'Anonymous Rex' by Eric Garcia, Eoin Colfer's 'And Another Thing..'. I'll stop there. It's a reminder to me that I don't read enough, and that there are many things I never got around to that would probably be equally well suited to this list. But it's favorites, it's subjective, and mine, and it stands.

TOP EIGHT BOOKS OF 2000-2009
(Why eight? Screw you.)

8. Why We Suck by Dr. Denis Leary
Just as in TV, I love comedy, and in this case I find it very instructive. A self-help book VASTLY more helpful than that balderdash 'The Secret' (oh yeah, the Universe is so generous that if you just WISH REAL HARD it will just GIVE you any frakking thing you desire regardless of what you deserve. THAT'S how the universe works, sure, right. That's why so many people die every minute. Of starvation, for example. They weren't WISHING TO LIVE hard enough.) And yes, Denis Leary-- more of a doctor than that douchebag Dr. Phil. A balm of a book for those of us sick of the entitled, pompous jerks humans so easily become.

7. Star Wars: Millenium Falcon by James Luceno
I like tripe. So sue me. I've read forests of TV and movie tie-ins. This one was a lot more fun than most, a family adventure exploring the history of the greatest spaceship character of them all. Sorry, Moya, Planet Express Ship, Enterprise. You know I love you all. (Mike loves all spaceships equally: this entry is entirely arbitrary.)

6. Our Inner Ape by Franz de Waal
I love monkeys. Good thing, too, that's what us primates are, at heart. This Dutch dude had plenty to say on the bonobos and their similarities and differences to the human monkey. Most of which stuck when I read it and I find myself interjecting factoids from this book into conversation even (perhaps especially) when it isn't appropriate.

5. Jennifer Government by Max Barry
Tongue-in-cheek detective adventure in a cynical consumerist dystopia. And from Mike Bookstore to all of you this festive season: "Drink Coke, Enjoy Stomach Cancer".

4. Last Words by George Carlin & Tony Hendra
My friend Darrel played some Carlin comedy monologues for me this year, I watched some of his routines on YouTube and HBO. That old dead guy was awesome. Funny, yes, whip-smart, too, and with some vital introspection as well. Farewell, Rufus dude. May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house.

3. Mike Nelson's Mind Over Matters by Mike Nelson
It's a bunch of facetious, meandering anecdotes. By a giant, meaty Midwesterner who talked to puppets for a living. I love it so. Making the pessimism of Schopenhauer funny? Priceless.

2. Variable Star by Robert A. Heinlein & Spider Robinson
Another dead guy, plus his quirky acolyte. And one of the better books I've read, ever. I guess after buildings fall, and our world view is shattered, we tend toward cynicism, misery, German sitcoms, and other painful pursuits. And that's probably healthy, I don't know. Nothing wrong with it, at least. This is not one of those pessimistic entertainments. Optimism in the face of disaster sucks. And it's the only choice that makes me happy.

1. Star Trek: Strange New Worlds 9 by 22 lovely people who aren't me... AND ME!!!
Speaking of things that make me happy, three years ago I got to taste the manna from heaven that is being a published author. And I've made precious little progress on that front since. But, what the hell. The best thing about the future is that there's more of it tomorrow, right?

So happy new year! Keep reading, keep writing, keep bumping uglies, and let's make 2010 into something even more awesome than the Roy Scheider movie of the same name.

Peace.

Lyrics I Live By

At the bookstore where I work we're gearing up for Christmas, and many of us are bracing for the arrival of Christmas MUSIC, which has a 50/50 chance of driving somebody into a clock tower before the season is through. Be that as it may, I am VERY grateful for the ipod my lovely wife gave me, and the 361 songs I have loaded into it. Nothing makes the hours go faster than a personalized list of my favorite stuff, screwball novelty songs being a personal preference.
So, tangentially related, at my work, I spotted a cool book called Music Listography by Lisa Nola of www.listography.com .
It contains many ways to make short playlists of songs you enjoy, more off the beaten path ideas, not simply a rote list of best to worst, or what-have-you.
Thanks to Ms. Nola, I present a topic I enjoyed thinking about, and a list by no means complete:

TOP 8 PIECES OF LYRICAL ADVICE I TRY TO FOLLOW:

8. 'Take on the situation but not the torment. You know it's not as bad as it seems.'
- Fleetwood Mac, 'Think About It'

7. 'Here's hoping all the days ahead won't be as bitter as the ones behind you. Be an optimist instead, and somehow happiness will find you.'
- The Kinks, 'Better Things'

6. 'Baby, you should know I am really quite a sweet guy: When I buy you bathroom tissue I always get the two-ply.'
- Weird Al Yankovic, 'Whatever You Like'

5. 'Say what you Mean, Mean what you Think, and Think Anything. WHY NOT?'
- Cat Stevens, 'Can't Keep It In'

4. 'It's time to create. Time to grow if you feel right. The world, yea, she's changing, don't it make you feel alive?'
-The All-American Rejects, 'The Future Has Arrived'

3. 'Three Hams will kill him. Three Hams will kill him. You must not feed him three hams.'
-Thundercles to Brak (instructions on goldfish feeding Brak fails to heed.) 'The Brak Show'

2. 'I'm a little lost, let me find my way. I'm a little dead, let me live. I've been living in the past, let me rise today. Led a selfish life, let me give.'
-Lindsay Buckingham, 'The Right Place To Fade'

1. 'When push comes to shove, you gotta do what you love; even if it's not a good idea.'
- Hermes Conrad, 'How Hermes Got His Groove Back', Futurama

Captain Complainy: Not Gay Enough for Smallville

Brace yourselves, people. A show I really care about is on its deathbed and I'm just lashing out at everything today! Lashing out at things that don't deserve to live.
Why are there TEN SEASONS OF SMALLVILLE?!!!
Or when I asked myself another way, HOW many episodes have I enjoyed? In TEN YEARS?
How many were GOOD for me?
There were some cool tornado effects at the end of a first season of lacklustre meteor-freak of the week.
"Rosetta" is season two had, oh, around 5 minutes of sweetness when Dr. Virgil Swan tells Clark his origin. Finally! Krypton! Space! So, can we stop saying 'green meteor rock' now?

Also, damn. Thank you for 5 minutes with an Actor. I almost forgot what they were like. (with apologies to Michael Rosenbaum, John Schneider, Annette O'Toole, and John Glover)
Thanks again, Season 3 for "Perry" as it featured a heck of a great effects shot of a thrown tractor, and a heck of a great guy, Michael McKean. This guy needs to thank God for a sexy wife (see: Annette O'Toole).
Also, I have a sexy wife. Just sayin'.
Season Four offered about 6 seconds of really keen effects of Bart Allen running. And about 70 thousand hours of who gives-a-crap with the witchy Teagues.
And is it wrong that in all of Season 5, an ENTIRE season with everything it had to offer, all I can recall with fondness was Lois' shower scene?Thanks, Erica Durance.
Also, I have a sexy wife. Gotta cover my ass here.
Seriously. And Brainiac stands for Brain Inter Active Construct? Jay-sus, Mary, and Rao, WHY the HELL did they make that into an acronym? And HOW could it spell something in ENGLISH? I CAN'T believe I still get angry about this, but Kryptonian wing-dings... Earth letters... I type it into my head computer and it just keeps spewing nonsense! Brainiac is either an alien proper name or an alien title of veneration depending on which comic you look at, and making it an acronym is JUST CRACK-BRAINED!
Oh, Angry Tangents, where would I be without you?
Writing something of value myself?
Nah. Too lazy.
Season 6 had a redeeming factor besides Mack and Durance.
Season 6 had Green Arrow, and depite the 'cool' sunglasses and hoodie, (why do they shy away from capes, domino masks, and tights? Criminey!) Justin Hartley has the capacity to seem like a superhero.
Season... oh, why do I give a crap? It just goes on and on! Every year as more limbs are shot off (Pa Kent, Ma Kent, Lionel, Lex) this show still can't be stopped from shambling onward. At least Lana used to be there to drag the whole proceedings to a grinding halt in her bitter morass of self-pity... Wait, I meant Thank Krypto, Streaky, Beppo and all the Super-Pets up there in the sky that she's gone.
I keep lapsing into sighs whenever I think about this show. If only I was gay... I think it might better help me tolerate Tom Welling and his emo plodding through year after uneventful year. A block of wood in a red shirt and blue pants (or, nowadays, a Punisher costume???), delivering dull as dishwater dialogue, meaningless mutterings, about 5 seconds of something action-y or special-effecty, then more foot-shuffling and mumbling under a contemporary 'heart-felt' montage. Generally on the subject: 'I wish I wasn't so handsome and god-like. With all these powers and abilities and general splendidness I could have any woman... or man on the globe. I'd better not crack a smile or wear bright colors or do anything fun. People might start to think I was Superman.
And yet Defying Gravity GOT ONE MEASLY SEASON.
Screw you, TV!
I'm just mad, TV, you know I'd never leave you.

Why I Love Sci-Fi: The Lost Years

It was Luke Skywalker who hauntingly tells Leia "I have no memory of my mother. I never knew her."
Far less poignantly, but in a similar manner, I do not know what my first memories of sci-fi are. A computer-printout on my Uncle Cliff's wall depicting either Spock or Einstein, all done up in tiny ones and zeros? Watching Star Wars on 'CTV' and on grainy Beta videotapes thereafter? Not grainy originally, just from overuse.
My journals begin at age nine and are thoroughly, amazingly unhelpful. I loved the McDonald's Commandron Velocitor Happy Meal toy (couldn't find a pic online) and pleather E.T. doll as much as wildly more expensive toys like this one.

Playground jealousy reared its ugly head in a vague memory of Grade One (or kindergarten?) when AT-ATs like this one battled tauntauns at recess in snowdrifts (Canada is tailor-made to be planet Hoth). I saw Star Wars toys before I ever saw the movies. I thrilled at these war machines stomping around bigger than life in my imagination. My classmates told me wild, unlikely (and, as it happens, untrue) tales of what Star Wars was. I remember contemplating the concept that Darth Vader had ice cream under his helmet for most of a day- if you broke his helmet like a DQ dilly bar there would be vanilla ice cream underneath. Oh, the lies!
When the TV played Star Wars my brother and cousin and I had to rush right up the edge of the back porch as though it was a bottomless pit on the Death Star, not quite teetering over the edge... teetering... teetering... falling anyway and pretending we had grappeling hooks to swing away on.

Or did I see Star Trek first? I sure remember these little guys.
You couldn't be the nephew I was without hearing the purr of a tribble from the TV and hearing the 'dee-dee-Da-Dee Wah Wah deeDeedee' of a Star Trek comedy soundtrack unparallelled.
I cut the yellow pom-pom off the top of my toque to have a tribble of my very own.
I wasn't going to be left out of THAT craze, no sir.

I once saw a woman eat a rodent whole by distending her jaw like a lizard! And a prison camp where the moat was made of sand and whatever was under it could burrow really fast and eat you! THAT was a great one to keep you on the monkey bars and off the sand, boy howdy. Good old 'V'.

I raced breakfast cereal sprocket-wheel pull TRON lightcycles which, in retrospect, were NOTHING like the ones in the film.

V.I.N.Cent the robot HOVERED, dude! So did his smashed-up buddy B.O.B!That had R2-D2 beat right there. And Vin had a voice prissier than C-3PO's. Also Maximillian had whirling blades to cut you right to shreds! 'The Black Hole' is just NOT a kids movie! It's NOT! But I loved robots, man, and I loved robots HARD!

I have the creepiest feeling when I try to remember the first Doctor Who I ever saw. How old would I even have been? I cannot say. Five? The memory is SO nebulous. It was the fourth doctor in danger, I'm sure of that, but I knew no others then, so it was just the Doctor.
And there were several HORRIBLE monstrosities moving toward him down a corridor. Slowly, so slowly, creeping with menace... did they even have FEET? My scared little brain renders them as blobs, greenish brown, no faces, no limbs. Were they the Yeti? The Gel Guards? Neither of them menaced the fourth doctor. Probably the furry ones that crumbled into drug powder in 'The Nightmare of Eden'.
I was OFTEN scared watching Doctor Who, but I LOVED K-9. Any robot was the best robot as far as I was concerned. Seeing those classic episodes now I wonder why what scared me most wasn't Tom Baker himself. The monsters are nowhere near as strange as the lead actor.

So, who knows? In 1986 I was watching Back To the Future, the Battle For Endor, clamoring to get my parents to let me see Short Circuit. In 1990 I was secretly watching the 'lewd' Red Dwarf
series on YTV after I was supposed to be asleep. In 1991 I joined the Star Trek fan club.
Quantum Leap, Babylon 5, ALF, Starman, Gunbuster. I couldn't and can't get enough sci-fi. To this very day.
Whatever the FIRST images were, I bet they were furry like Ewoks, tribbles, yetis and Gremlins, hovering and making theremin noises, maybe even clanking and whirring like robots. Or possibly it was a duck facing off with a blank-faced little squirt in a skirt and sneakers trying to destroy the planet with an earth-shattering KA-BOOM because it obscured his view of Venus.
Long Live Sci-Fi!

Boppin' Through the Wild Blue

I do a lot of complaining. How 'bout some stuff I like lately?
It's nice to be writing again. Progress is slow. It's harder work than I remember. Seems like when I wrote before I was doing it for fun, now it's a real effort. But again, this is complaining, so in the interest of the glass being half full- it's nice to be writing again.
Boppin' along on my bike ride to work is the ipod my lovely wife gave me. So while I can't read on the bus when I'm not taking it, I have my music.
I made my first ebay sale. For two bucks plus 32.74 shipping I sent away my 1983 Kenner Jabba the Hutt with his 1990's special edition slave Leia and jester Salacious Crumb. To a guy named Sean in New Zealand. He seemed excited- I am out of pocket for the shipping and eagerly awaiting the PayPal transfer. Donation of toys may be the more rewarding choice in future. There's no money involved but there's no effort or money risk either.
I have a wife and a mortgage! This is far better than I ever expected. We are both rather lazy and fairly poor. I tend to like it that way.
Torchwood's second season was less unrelentingly dour, and third was, as my friend Anthony put it "Slit-Your-Wrists Fun". If I crapped too hard on Torchwood in the past I make my apologies. But I do not forgive Cyberwoman. That was shite.
Speaking of television that is awesome: I nominate Defying Gravity to run for seven seasons! In this day and age that would be a miracle, but if anything on right now deserves it, I say this does.
OPTIMISM! SPACE! How I've missed you. BSG is all well and good, and the finale was beautiful, moving and haunting. But how long since SF was PLEASANT? Doctor Who, Star Trek, Stargate. Worthy programs all. Defying Gravity has some of that spirit, and although there is mystery too I feel less likely to be betrayed by premise and less, well, LOST than I did when I was grudgingly watching Lost. DG is funny, sexy, and very much my thing. Oddly, my wife even liked it a bit. So, of course, if you're reading this in 2010 and thinking "Defying What?" it will be a tragedy of television failure, and also par for the course lately.
Maybe we all have too much else to do? Certainly we have loads of choices. And I know (though I'll never understand) that people like different things than me? And that it costs a lot to make tv and keep things on the air if nobody's watching. Anyway, what I'm saying is, if you like SF even a tiny bit, or you like adventure or human interaction or mystery or romance, I suggest you watch and then make noise about Defying Gravity.
What else is really cool lately? I like Linkara's ATOP THE FOURTH WALL video blog on that guy with the glasses dot com. That guy is just glorious. He has me HOWLING at his scathing reviews of terrible comics. Thanks to my friend Kirk for pointing him out.
I'm enjoying the read on my latest Hugo winning novel: To Say Nothing Of the Dog by Connie Willis. A FUNNY Hugo winner is something of a rarity, and all the better for having read Jerome K Jerome's Three Men In A Boat. Again I must credit Kirk. He told me he's reading my blog: so I have to have some shout outs. DUDE! Like that.
I liked playing Neverwinter Nights Gold from BioWare on my PC, thanks to Devin. Reading the instruction manual was kind of a chore: 175 pages of mathematically derived methods of stabbing people until the gold falls out of them and no pages of kissing? Didn't seem like my thing.
Still, it's very playable, even for a guy who has no idea what he's doing. My pre-made elf wizard character didn't even make it out of the local 'Hogwarts' before she managed to impale herself on a trap I think I may have unwittingly set myself. But the picture and sound are very good. The game is like seven years old, I wonder what they've done since?
What I mean is, I wonder if they'd like my help being paid to write dialog for whatever they're doing now. My incomplete resume requires I build a game module with the NWN toolset and the first environment I tried to assemble gave me an error message and shut down.
Have I mentioned that for a nerd I have almost no savvy with computers?
Shame to be a nerd AND have no techhie traits.
I'm one of those daydreamy nerds, leaving the hands-on stuff to other, wiser heads.
And I love comics. I don't buy many of them (see mortgage) but I like reading them. The Blackest Night story in Green Lantern is SO CREEPY AND COOL! Booster Gold is probably on the verge of cancellation because I like it a lot. Spider-Man and Hulk had their 600th issues and both were very good. Dan Slott and Jeph Loeb and all the others deserve mucho praise. The Legion of Three Worlds story from DC was great, but I never met a Legion of Super-Heroes I didn't like, so all three at once and much much more was a freakin' dream come true!
So much did I enjoy it that I bought the follow-up new series' first issue Adventure comics #1 (or #504, if you prefer to pretend it's the same series as the old one) with a Superboy main feature and a LOSH back-up feature.
And I have to beg to differ with Linkara: Superboy Prime is MUCH more than a strawman fanboy paradigm (I'm paraphrasing here, I can't remember exactly what he called him) He's a great villain because I understand him very well: nothing is ever as good as he remembers it from when he was a kid, he's usually lonely, frustrated and angry and miserable because of his own actions and (thankfully this part is not that much like me or hopefully most of the readers) he tries to kill everything that frustrates him. Don't get me wrong, Linkara's Countdown putdown is entirely on the nose, that series blows. But don't throw the Superbaby out with the bathwater. With Geoff Johns writing that guy, I understand him entirely, even as I cannot condone him and I desperately hope never to be crazy enough to emulate him. But THAT'S why he's a great villain. Because I can ALMOST see myself in his pissed off red shoes.
That's a good reason to blog periodically about stuff I like. After GL:First Flight (I STILL haven't gotten all my bile out on that one!) I wanted to remember the wonderful things.
And I haven't touched on nearly enough of them. Louis C.K.'s airplane sketch about ingratitude keeps coming back to my mind: 'how quickly the world owes you something you didn't know existed 5 minutes ago!'
I am far too ungrateful, selfish, lazy, ignorant to deserve a world of such wonders as this. I hope for the future. I hope to be a better husband to my wife. I hope to read many wonderful things, watch many wonderful things, and write many wonderful things.
Also my father-in-law and mother-in-law are giving me a trip to the Netherlands.
How dope is that?
They rock.
Also things went quite well sitting in and being funny with the 404s at Animethon. Not least because my interest is peaked in the sci-fi and comedy that anime has to offer.
So, all in all, my life is 'Pretty spankin'.
Which reminds me, cartoons are fun too. Yeah, Kim Possible!
And yeah, George Carlin! Yeah John Hughes! Yeah Scrubs! Yeah Futurama! Yeah Fringe! Yeah My Friends! Yeah My Family! Yeah My FABULOUS Wife!
And Yeah me.

Free Comic Book Day

Today I took a long bus ride to Manning Crossing Shopping Center with lunch chicken frustratingly lodged in my back molar, scratching my scruffy beard in anticipation of meeting Ty Templeton. He's the author and artist behind many things, including some issues of my beloved She-Hulk, the very probably awesome but hard to find Spider-Man/Human Torch "I'm With Stupid" story, and more. I was first in line to shake his hand and he got a chuckle out of my 'Kirk is My BFF' t-shirt. I monopolized his time from a bit after one o'clock until nearly 2:30, leaving his table occsionally to give others a chance, and to buy his 'Star Trek:Mission's End' comics, enter some draws, and drool over Doctor Who spaceships.
Ty (I choose to call him Ty, plus it's his name) calls Dan Slott 'Danny', speaks regularly with him by phone and says they help each other with story points. Ty's art is quite good, and I coveted his story pages including a Green Lantern page from 'Two-Minute Warning'. However, I didn't want to see my wife's reaction to the cost. He showed me his Hoverboy comic, and I showed him my Monkey McDevill #2 in the Tales from the Harbor anthology. He laughed at the strategically placed dialog balloons in the shower scene. He signed my copy of his 'Howard the Duck: Media Duckling' trade paperback.
I began my rant: "Howard's great... now, don't get me wrong..."
"You mean Steve Gerber," he interjected.
"No, David, although maybe I started that sentence badly... Peter David was writing She-Hulk at the time and your Howard the Duck was the best She-Hulk comic that month."
He laughed, thanked me, and said that when the She-Hulk sales plummeted, he and Dan had offered to come back to the title, but the execs wanted Dan on their higher profile Spider-Man.
Ty recommended lots of comics, including Gerber's 'Hard Time', spoke of Gerber's working through his final days: working for two years as his lungs slowly calcified. It seemed like a horrible way to go, but an impossibly admirable work ethic.
Ty showed me advance art for his Futurama-Simpsons crossover, and his older art for Looney Tunes his Pepe LePew story ("the world's most loveable date-rapist" he quipped).
He quoted Ringo Starr at some point, something about writing or talent which seemed profound to me at the time and which I can't recall.
He pointed out that Spidey-Torch was coming out in hardcover next month, and I said I was eager to read it but I had a moral objection to buying hardcovers: they take up too much space on my shelf. He had an objection as well, but it was that he felt comics were an art form meant to be impermanent, ephemeral, and hardcovers seemed to be trying too hard to seem prestigious. Or something like that. I'll admit, I can't say it as well as he said it, but you had to be there.
With only minutes to spare before my bus came, I saw Laurie B. draw a She-Hulk for a guy and intriuged, I asked how much?
"You can pay me if you WANT, but Jay wants us to sketch for FREE today."
Never one to turn down FREE, I requested one, too, but asked her to finish it in 10 minutes. As she sketched a cute She-Hulk ("Make the boobs smaller than the last one," Ty urged, "That'll save time.") I apologized for needing speed but I had pre-bought tickets to Wolverine:Origins. Ty's semi-silent review was thumbs down with raspberry. Laurie was more inclined to like it. Ty pointed out a certain division along gender lines and I commented that my wife was interested in it mainly for Hugh Jackman butt.
"Plenty of that," smiled Ty. "Plenty of shirtless beefcake."
"So if I was considering a movie to help me switch teams..." I trailed off.
"This is the movie that lets you know that would be o.k."
When I complimented Laurie's sketch "I wish I had your talent." Ty said "There's no such thing as talent. It's a made-up word to make what we do (he pointed at the three of us) seem like magic. You just need to practice. If you can put two lines together you can draw. If you can put two words together you can write."
"I just have to be less lazy," I mused.
"Exactly."
So this is the day I got my first art collectible sketched live. (I was jealous of my friend Devin's batch of sketches from Calgary's Comicon, I admit it)
"Your FIRST?" Laurie B asked.
"You started me down a dark path," I said. "Thanks to you both."
"Enjoy your movie," said Ty.
"Keep an open mind," said Laurie.
The Wolverine movie was not as bad as I expected. And there's butt. My wife will be pleased.

Coming soon: STAR TREK!!!

80, yes, EIGHTY Comics-Made-Into-Movies ranked

Yup, I literally have done this thing. Ranking comics made into movies-- is this effective use of my time? And is Rank an all-too-appropriate word? You decide.

From best to worst in my awe-inspiring opinion:
Spider-Man 2- this is a GREAT Spidey film
Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer- now make a GREAT Fantastic Four movie
Iron Man- just like the She-Hulk, I might have to sleep with Tony Stark
Superman II- Kneel before Richard Donner
Men In Black- watch it again, Slick, it's about the best movie on the planet
Howard the Duck- for some reason, I'm REALLY not kidding you
Hellboy- I may actually want Abe Sapien's fishy babies. Sorry, Tony
Superman- you'll believe a movie can rock
Spider-Man 3- Venom, Sandman, Gwen Stacey- too many villains!
Ranma 1/2 Big Trouble In Nekonron, China- I've never needed understanding to love things
Spider-Man- except that dorky Goblin costume
X-Men The Last Stand- Magnetic Gandalf and Blue Frasier- splendid
Incredible Hulk- I'm buttering Marvel up for a She-Hulk spin-off
Judge Dredd- I'm still not kidding. HULLO, Cursed Earth pizza?
Daredevil- Kevin Smith, Stan the Man, Bennifer, yessir I like it
The Dark Knight- I like a BATMAN movie better than...
Fantastic Four- and they're my favorites!
X2- ze incredible Nightcrawler!
Batman Begins- Michael Caine, Gary Oldman, that Scarecrow guy. Cool.
X-Men- Alberta is the cagefighting province!
Tank Girl- I'm not proud, people.
V For Vendetta- hip
The Rocketeer- yup
Batman Forever- I like Tommy Lee and Jim. I really do.
Monkeybone- I also like monkeys
Mystery Men- it's not the Tick, but it's good Garofolo and friends
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles- I was a turtle ninja for Halloween. I may have some problems.
Batman: Mask of the Phantasm- this cartoon was brilliant
From Hell- this is not my thing at all, which shows how good it is
Batman- this was pretty cool, cartoon was better
The Mask- never saw the sequel with ze incredible Nightcrawler!
Blade Trinity- Ryan Reynolds should be in every movie ever
Supergirl- I wasn't always proud of liking this, but having seen Superman Returns...
Heavy Metal 2000- F.A.K.K.2 appears not to stand for anything. Boobies, maybe?
Timecop- he totally changed time!
Ghost Rider- Nick Cage: make the SHE-HULK movie. Fulfill your VOW!
Hulk- strange actionless choices, but better than you think
Blade- this was way cool
Superman III- this was needless, but I laughed
Men In Black II-this was MORE needless, but I laughed
Elektra- Zod is in this, but is it good?
Constantine- Canoe is not Constantine. Admit it.
Barbarella- I'll admit it: I've seen this 5 times
Superman IV- I'll admit it, I've seen this a lot more than 5 times
Heavy Metal- oh, cartoon boobs
Josie & the Pussycats- yes, but it's better than the source material
The Phantom- You wish YOU looked like a penis in a domino mask
Punisher (Thomas Jayne)- Mystique is NOT Mousey Joan, that's rubbish
Dick Tracy- o.k. it's bad, but now I've seen the Spirit
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III: Turtles in Time- if only I was kidding
Over The Hedge- but I LIKE a cookie...
City Hunter- Jackie Chan rules, that's all I remember
Sheena- too gratuitous
Red Sonja- not gratuitous enough
Batman The Movie- shark repellant is better than Kryptonian dead-beat dad
A Charlie Brown Christmas- is it too schmaltzy? watch those kids dance- be heartwarmed
American Splendor (this is the mid-point, evoking neither positive nor negative emotion)
Batman Returns- Christoher Walken notwithstanding
Annie- arrgh
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze (the secret is Vanilla Ice)
The Crow II: City of Angels- don't know if it's good, but Kirk & Kayla fell in love
Blade II- Danny John Jules notwithstanding
Batman & Robin- Ahhnold notwithstanding
Superman Returns- only Spacey & Posey got this thing above Garfield
Garfield- how did this go wrong?
Captain America (1991)- Red Skull is not Italian. Sweet Christmas!
Sin City- ehh
The Shadow- blehh
The Crow- shmehh
Road To Perdition- there's nothing wrong with this. I'm mental.
League of Extraordinary Gentlemen- bleckk
Captain America II: Death Too Soon- no, not too soon at all
Ghost World- oh, come on, it's sooooo tedious
The Guyver- Mark Hamill was the Joker in cartoons. He's good in them. Don't watch this.
Spawn- lord, beer me strength
The Spirit- oh lordyloo
Archie: To Riverdale & Back Again- wrong, wrong, wrong
Dennis the Menace- is better than...
300- 300 is how gay it is on a scale of 1 to 10
Barb Wire- this may actually be the worst movie of ANY kind

Up next: Comics into T.V. and Direct-To-Video and stuff I couldn't bring myself to watch

"One More Day"

Hi. J. Michael Strazynski's 'One More Day' storyline caps an excellent run on Spider-Man which, like fabled Ouroboros, eats its own tail. And most of the other snakes that were nearby.
This final coda on a brilliant Spidey tale was (obviously) a well-written, deeply moving, cop-out.
(Contains spoilers)
To sum up: JMS took a separated, depressed Peter Parker complete with secret identity. JMS explored Pete's origins and purpose with a shady mentor. He examined his life as a schoolteacher. He brought long-missing, long suffering MJ back into Pete's life in a lovely, believeable reunion. He exposed Peter's secret identity to Aunt May, (Who, far from dying of shock became an advocate for Spider-Man). He expanded Peter's circle of friends to include the Avengers, especially Iron Man whose benevolent offer of a home for Peter and his family led inexorably to Peter's fateful decision to unmask on live t.v. in support of superhero registration. Though done with his families total support, he regretted the choice immediately. Faced with the increasing fascism of the Avengers, SHIELD, the FF, the government et al, Peter tried to divorce himself from the Pro-Faction and quickly found himself with no support structure and under supervillain attack. An assassin's bullet meant for Peter struck Aunt May.
May has been dying inside a week for Peter and MJ, almost a year for the monthly reader.
Peter has lashed out at the assassin, raged against the hospital system, pled with Dr. Strange, sought every avenue, checked every possibility and it seemed the story was shaping up to Aunt May's death.
Because, honestly, May's been a frail dying old woman for 13 Peter years and 44 reader years.
I was prepared to have this be the realistic end. See Peter face a realistic tragedy.
Learn a little something while I'm entertained.
Instead, the finale gave me a DC-esque reboot that throws about 25 years of baby out with the bathwater.
Peter with MJ's reluctant consent, makes a deal with the literal devil to save May's life at the cost of erasing P & M's entire (approximately 6 comic years?) marriage, and their memory of it. It has the secondary effect of erasing their potential daughter (May 'Spider-Girl' Parker). MJ also makes a side-deal with Mephisto to put Spider-Man back in the closet worldwide in exchange for something Peter and the reader do not learn here.
I thought the story was heading for the inevitability of death and I was prepared. I lost MY Aunt. It hurts. I lashed out, too. Now I would see how a hero dealt with it.
Answer: HE DIDN'T!
He bargained with the devil to avoid a painful truth at the cost of his marriage. With great power comes... irresponsibility. Peter doesn't man up. He doesn't learn from anything or grow. In fact he erases every mature choice he's ever made.
Were I Aunt May I'd be pissed.
I would resent him saving my life at this cost.
Being sorely disappointed in Spider-Man is a new experience for me. I understand the pressure and madness of grief. I sympathize with the choice, but damn!
One word to the devil and this guy's single and drinking with his high school buddies with an aunt to feed and protect him again.
Are you jealous? Wish you could be a hero too, like this jerk? What's next, crawl back into your crib?
Man up!
But of course, Peter doesn't even remember the change. The only thing that can reverse this irresponsibility is MJ's love... but can she still give it?
I love this stuff, I do. Obviously it has me worked up. But the ding-blasted consequences!!!
JMS just erased decades of 'history'!
I like to think that sort of reboot is limited to DC where every ten years Batman is reinvented.
I like to think that Marvel's kooky attempt to keep dragging internally consistent, interlinked, extensive 'histories' down through the decades in their Marvel Universe is most of what makes them so freakin' awesome. Kudos to them, I say!
1940's Batman, 1950's Batman, 1960's Batman, 1970's Batman, 1980's Batman, 1990's Bat-Azreal, 2000's Batman- it's like 7 different guys who wouldn't know each other across the gulf of crisises, zero hours, generalized silent re-maginings, movie retcons.
Peter Parker 2007 is the same as Peter Parker 1962. Impossible as that is temporally speaking. I really, really enjoyed that this was meant to be the same person, passing (albiet incredibly slowly), from high school to college, to job, to marriage. (Even, in a brave parrallel world future that somehow lives on in Spider-Girl, parenthood).
I think that was the comic's greatest strength. Simulated life.
A reboot undermines that, I feel.
I guess I have no choice but to accept temporally choppy, inconsistent, or unpalatable changes as an inherent part of the comics medium. Probably.
Like, Bart Simpson never gets older. Nor does Archie.
Of course, I don't care about them or read their comics.
I read somewhere that comics feature only the illusion of change, but since the examples they gave were from DC comics I actually thought Marvel was capable of being better than the illusion. Of course, how can Batman have been fighting crime for 60 years? Real life is fleeting and simulated comic life would have to be, as well. Maybe four times less fleeting at the outside. But fleeting. I'm concerned that the death infesting Marvel comics is saying something about the content. Captain America has died. (Permanently?) Maybe that's o.k. Maybe a super-patriotic steroid-filled soldier is an icon the twenty-first century can do without. But the zombies? I'm worried this is an indication that Marvel's silver age magic is ending and these fantastic, symbolic characters are all walking dead. Can that be true?
Probably.
I'm told some Spider-Fans never wanted Pete to marry. Like some dudes figure Clark should never have married Lois.
I'm of the opposite opinion. I want my heroes to show me the way.
I'm afraid of the future, deep down. I love it too, but there is fear. I'm afraid of the terrifying changes that come with growing old, finding love, marrying the right person.
I'm trying to get my first mortgage, my first home with my fiancee.
I couldn't possibly manage it without her help. Face down these supervillains if you dare!
Mort Gage, the LIVING HELL from BEYOND ENDURANCE!!!
Real-Tor: Falsehoods, Fabrications, Finagling. (twists moustache, chortles: "NYa-ha-ha!")
Dr. Entropy- Gaze into Nothingness and Wonder where your Misspent Youth has GONE!

I need comics at a time like this. O.K., so REALLY what I need is to man up. If my heroes fail then in the words of cartoon superhero Freakazoid's anime examplar Heroboy:
"I MUST SUCCEED!!!"

Bring on the Fun!

It's the second day of a new year and having just endured a week of upper respiratory infection including fever, chills, racking coughs, a vile sore throat, the grim spectre of death reaching it's clammy hand toward my clammy throat, pushing me, pushing, ever nearer the DEADLY PRECIPICE.... dear lord, let death come swift...!
Seriously, this sucked.
And feeling like death from Dec. 26-Jan.1 notwithstanding, worse and longer than I've been sick I think in my life, this was still one of my better Christmases.
Not my favorite holiday.
And, as of now, better by two paragraphs than a year of writer's block.
I may or may not have mentioned that in 2007 I set myself the goal of writing the two novels that are stewing ever cold and moldier in my brainpan.
I failed. Then, for good measure, I failed again.
There is an upside. I wrote two comic books published at Happy Harbor Comics. One soon-to-be published, anyway.
This was good.
This was not my goal.
For whatever reason, best worth considering at length but perhaps not in this forum, I have not written what I wanted to write. I am almost as miserable about that as the airway infection.
And yet I somehow have the gall to finally be inspired to write something again:
AND IT'S A COMPLAINT ABOUT PETER DAVID'S WRITING!!?!
Where the hell to do I get off, for gosh sakes!
No really, where do I get off?
Not Peter David's last three issues of She-Hulk comics.
They're a little disappointing.
They're a little boring.
PETER.
DAVID.
SHE.
HULK.
This is my all-time favorite comic character and my all-time favorite comic writer. This should be a no-brainer, kids. Mike will be over the moon. GAH-RON-TEED!.
Mike is scratching his head and fretting the 2.50 a month.
WHAAAAA?
Why is the funniest She-Hulk comic this month Howard the Duck#3 by Templeton and Bobillo?
Where is David's funny? Where is his sexy?
BRING ME THE FUN!!!
Three months this comic has broken necks, bounty hunting, and barfights. I asked for none of these three 'b's. I'm talking 'bout bellowing guffaws, bon mots, and... well, buns and boobies but the art's just not there for me either, lately.
See, bounty hunters are assholes.
Boba Fett? Asshole.
Doawg? Asshole.
Actually, I'm just talking out mine. Bounty hunters are very cool right? Like Boba Fett. And Dawgg. Or whatever.
But bounty hunters (forgive me) in the only two examples I can think of, are not the brightest and best. She-Hulk is a lawyer. That worked fine since Stan created her. Also, David's first 3 issues are better than Stan's single issue of She-Hulk. Trying to remember, of course, that these men are my freakin' idols and comic book geniuses of the highest order.
Just riddle me this: IS Savage She-Hulk issue #1, Feb. 1980 Stan the Man's best work?
Are She-Hulk #22-24 Peter the Deity's best woik?
I SAY THEE NAY!
Why are my shorts in a bunch? I suppose my expectations were too high. I am a fantastically impatient man-child with little to no sense of my own reality. I like complaining.
All true.
But Mr. David has a Skrull character. I LOVE SKRULLS! Stan's best alien, swears I! Where's the harm? Two green bounty hunter gals hittin' on the bad guys n' drivin' a beat-up truck, taking green-tinted nude showers perchance, *ahem* but I've lost my train of thought... I mean, if you wanted to pair up She-Hulk and a Skrull it'd be Jen Walters and Lyja the Lazerfist, right? I mean, c'mon they've both been in the Fantastic Four. That's the green partner that makes the most sense. The only Skrull Jen has a good excuse to hang out with, really.
Jazinda? Who's Jazinda?
Why are you introducing a new Skrull?
Fine, my ol' pal Kirk reminds me editors make choices too. Maybe none of this is David's fault. Maybe an editor demanded Jen change jobs, cities, attitudes, friends, personality, and start sucking.
No seriously. FLAME ON! I'm calling it like it is! Why is this comic not enjoyable? Dan Slott should not be able to out write Peter David?!
But what was the last David thing I liked?
-Light and Darkness Saga volume one? Very bored
-1602- ending moved me, but to depression. (ie- last panel Watcher looking down unsympathetically on girl drowining alone. Yikes.)
-Last two Knight Life novels? Like, mortar bored.
-Captain Marvel when Captain Marvel kills his own infant son in his crib to prevent the tyke becoming Space Hitler, when in fact a dolt amateur like me thought all C.M. had to do was get his marvel-tubes tied or not bang Songbird or get an early abortion or ANY other not-killing-his-own-son choices? God damn that was a shitty thing to do! When Wonder Woman killed Max Lord I for the life of me still cannot come up with another option. Captain Marvel had tons of options AND IT WAS HIS BABY SON!
See, David did move me. He moved me to anger and discarding most of my Captain Marvels.
See, it turns out DC has a Captain Marvel much purer and you wouldn't write a story like that for him. No sir!
AWWW, Fudge.
I'm so angry, and it's probably mostly at myself.
If my writing idol has an off day, or an off year, how can I justify WRITING ANYTHING AT ALL!? 'cause if somebody so great can disappoint sometimes than how much MORE often am I going to blow serious written stink-balls? Every time? Yeah, probably.
Because David is GOOD. He's really, really good.
Sir Apropo? Good.
Young Justice? Good.
Maddrox? Star Trek? Crusade? B5? Space Cases? Good.
F.N. Spider-Man? Even that Uncle Ben, murderer bit P.D. thinks people hated? Really Good.
Everything ever? The guy is DAMN GOOD.
The Captain's Daughter made me weep. Seriously, I was a big girl's blouse. Well, at 17 I was a very scrawny girl's blouse.
Imzadi was brilliant. He made me care big "C" care, about Riker and Troi who let's face it were mild rip offs of Decker and Ilia (who face facts stanked up the place) and despite fine actors as Riker and Troi had never had writers at that point do their feelings justice.
There are so many more.
I think David's Star Trek annual #1 was the first Star Trek thing I ever read ever.
He is so darn brilliant. Prolific as hell. He seems so unbeatable but this comic...
Maybe it's the lead character herself.
Geoff Johns frakked She-Hulk up, too. The Avengers: Search for She-Hulk graphic novel:
She-Hulk claims for the first time in a twenty year history her transformations to the She-Hulk are based on fear, not rage. I could have throttled the man who would go on to write 'Infinite Crisis', for Odo's sake.
"'I'm Geoff Johns! I'm writing the Avengers! Mah, mah, I'm so great! She-Hulk the closest thing the Marvel Universe has to a respectable, strong female character and I gotta figure out what she's all about... ummm, Yeah, she's a scaredy cat!'"
Then Chuck 'Sucking's My Middle Name' Austen put her in bed with Juggernaut.
People, fellow nerds and dudes of deep feeling everywhere, please. Say it with me.
THE SHE-HULK IS NOT A FEMALE VERSION OF THE HULK.
SHE IS THE FEMALE OPPOSITE OF THE HULK.
Hulk is the wild, unsupressed rage of a small boy with deep emotional problems.
She-Hulk is the wild, unsupressed pleasure of a grown woman who kinda likes life.
If Hulk is powered by rage, She-Hulk is not powered by fear but, say it with me : LUST. Lust for life, as perhaps Iggy Pop said.

In fact, P.A.D. was the one who clued me into that determination, not in so many words but during his legendary run on Hulk he put an explanation for gamma radiation (the energy source of Hulks everywhere) into the mouth of character shrink Dr. Samson. Samson was giving a lecture on the effects of gamma rays and pointed out that the radiation unleased things people were holding in their heart of hearts. This meant that multiple-personality disorder anger issue boy Bruce Banner became the Hulk, but Samson himself and every other irradiated person manifested differently based on their innermost self. Emil Blonsky, filled with self-loathing became the hideous Abomination. Sam Sterns, desperate to overcome his lack of smarts, became the smartest evil genius around. Samson himself manifested the superhero he wished he was. And, Jen Walters, not mentioned in the presentation, I concluded had repressed her sexual energy and resulted in a very bombastic and debatably dangerously sexually liberated individual.
Not a fearful person. Not a weak person. But a woman who expressed her desires clearly, intelligently, and as much as possible, physically.
That's part of the difference between Jen and Bruce: how long can a regular person stay mad? Not very long. That's why (I surmise) Banner is always reverting to normal. Because even he can't stay perpetually enraged.
But She-Hulk can stay aroused and excited about life practically every hour of every day. She doesn't historically spend much time as her human self because she prefers to be Shulkie.
And that is a very appealing character for me. 'Lust for Life' Thanks, Iggy.

Or, if you prefer here's the 7 Deadly Gamma Ray Sins:
Wrath- The Hulk
Lust- The She-Hulk
Envy- The Leader
Greed- The Abomination
Pride- Doc Samson
Sloth/Gluttony- Hubert St. John (obscure John Byrne Hulk villain brought into play here because I really wasn't sure how to round out the analogy)

Maybe lustiness isn't a heroic emotional trait to most people.
Maybe that's why Johns decided she was powered by Fear.
There's no right or wrong, of course, I'm just entitled to my wacky opinion, but a super-strong sexually liberated woman character in a comic is kinda super-rare. DC's Wonder Woman used to have a sexy side, I'm told, but regular folks maybe prefer a preachy sexless statue.

Sex isn't the whole issue. But it's a factor. I personally recommend the return of Wyatt Wingfoot. He was a cool boyfriend for She-Hulk, but maybe stoic turns to shallow under a bad writer. Or was Wyatt a stereotype? I'm never sure about these things. More critical than a boyfriend for She-Hulk is a funnybone. I know the Civil War and World War Hulk were a bitch, but I don't demand lifelike realism in terms of a period of depression, mourning, some suicidal I wanna be a lone wolf bounty hunter moping or what have you. I wanna get back to fun.

I buy one comic from DC a month. Booster Gold. I stress the word comic. I'm talkin' Funny books. Granted, life, death, Joker crippling girls, yellow-fear armies, it's not quite what I expected either, but I'm lovin' it. It's intense, action-y, it's a little funny, and I hope it gets funnier. Or fun-er.

Same for Shulkie. I buy one Marvel comic a month, and it's the green gal. This is real basic, primary color stuff. In the words of Andrew W.k. WE WANT FUN!

I will learn patience, I swear. What David's got going for him now is I'm a desperate, writer's blocked pissant unworthy to ink David's socks.
That's why I'll still be buying She-Hulk next month, and you should, too.

At least until someone explains why it isn't more fun.

What's not to like?

Last post I promised to write about stuff I ENJOY rather than seem like a ranting, complaint-filled ass all the time.
But it turns out two of the things I like are complaining and procrastinating.
Ergo, expect more of the same in the future.
But tis the season of love, and I can feel it biting at my nose in the chill winter air.
I love science fiction more than any man should.
My top ten films of all time as chosen in 2006 in ascending order are:
10- Spider-Man II. It's the simply the best, and I got to kiss my date afterwards.
9- The Incredibles. See FF that should have been.
8- Enemy Mine. This is beautiful SF at its most impressive.
7- The Princess Bride. It's hard to love a movie more than this one...
6- The Fellowship of the Ring. Unless you waited your whole life to see it
5- The Fifth Element. That's right. Suck it, Mr. Shadow.
4- The Dark Crystal. That's right. Suck it, pure good and pure evil.
3- The Empire Stirkes Back. It has 'The" in the title as well. Coincidence?
2- A New Hope. I mean Star Wars IV. The first one.
1- Return of the Jedi. That's right. Suck it, Ewok haters.

There's probably nothing I love more than a happy ending. And I believe everything "Jedi" had to say, even the teddy bears beating the evil empire.
I should mention I also loved Jar Jar Binks.
I know he's a retarded man-frog. But I'm man enough to admit that when I was younger so was I. I think most of us were and I think that's what most of us were afraid to admit. Don't be ashamed of your past, people. Gangly orange fuck-up is as gangly orange fuck-up does.

My favorite television last year was sparse. But let's face facts Doctor Who was the best . My favorite episode was 'School Reunion' which featured my favorite ex-Buffy Brit Mr. Anthony Head (who MUST return as the Master. Admit it must be so!) and also my favorite new Christmas friend K-9: robot dog from the year 5000, don'cha know.

My favorite movie was probably X-Men 3. I'm a nerd, what can I say.

My favorite new comic book discovery was The Legion of Super-Heroes. Mark Waid is the creme de la crop, folks. But seriously, HOW have I been reading comics for over 6 years and not found the one with dozens of young, alien super main characters from the future with over 50 years worth of back issues? I guess it was just my prejudice against DC comics. When I opened my Marvel Zombie eyes a little bit and rubbed the Moon Knight dust out of them I noticed Green FRAKKIN Lantern, too!
My fav is Kyle Rayner, the sarcastic artist with the cute green girlfriend. (She's tragically just died but I can hope and pray it doesn't last.)
My favorite DC comic is '52'. It's a great introduction to a new world.
My favorite Marvel comic was 'The Thing', but is now 'She-Hulk' by the same author. God bless you and your word-processor, Mr. Slott.
Yes, I can't get enough of the green chicks. Sue me. And send Jennifer Walters with the summons.
My favorite indy comic is BONE, although it's probably by some company I could name if I wanted to get up and look at the darn thing. Anyway, it's very fun so far.

My fifty favorite songs include:
The Saga Begins- WEIRD AL
She Is Beautiful- ANDREW W.K.
Storybook Love- MARK KNOPFLER
Schadenfreude- AVENUE Q musical
Everything- ALANIS MORRISETTE
Defying Gravity- WICKED musical
Don't Stop Me Now- QUEEN
You Will Go To the Moon- MOXY FRUVOUS
Scatterlings of Africa- JOHNNY CLEGG
Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick (live)- IAN DURY & THE BLOCKHEADS
The Waiting- TOM PETTY & THE HEARTBREAKERS
Your Body is a Wonderland- JOHN MAYER
I Drove All Night- CYNDI LAUPER
Give up the Grudge- GOB
Synthesizer- ELECTRIC SIX
Shining Light- ASH
I Couldn't Believe- DR. HOOK
The Majesty of Rock- SPINAL TAP
Happiness Hotel- THE MUPPETS
The Mayor of Simpleton- XTC
Little Light of Love- ERIC SERRA
Sex, Drugs, and RRSPs- ARROGANT WORMS
Walk Through the Fire- JOSS WHEDON
What Would Brian Boitano Do?- DVDA
Girl U Want- DEVO
I Think I Need a New Heart- MAGNETIC FIELDS
Dance the Night Away- VAN HALEN
Can't Help Falling in Love- LICK THE TINS
Take on Me- ME FIRST AND THE GIMME GIMMES
Rush Hour- JANE WIEDLIN
Satisfied- ODDS
Breathless- THE CORRS
Kathy's Song- SIMON & GARFUNKEL
Sunshine Lady- DION
Make Me Smile- STEVE HARLEY & COCKNEY REBEL
Don't Stop Believin'- JOURNEY
Dancing in Heaven- Q-FEEL
Weep Day- THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS
Accidentally in Love- COUNTING CROWS
Bad Blood- BONZO DOG BAND

And my top ten favorite songs today are:
10-Fett's Vette- MC CHRIS
9-Martian Hop- THE RAN-DELLS
8-Overkill- COLIN HAY
7-Your Wildest Dreams- MOODY BLUES
6-All I Wanna Know- MAGNETIC FIELDS
5-This Time Tomorrow- THE KINKS
4-Better Things- FOUNTAINS OF WAYNE
3-In Your Eyes- PETER GABRIEL
2-Bleed to Love Her- FLEETWOOD MAC
1-Lovers in a Dangerous Time- BARENAKED LADIES

Let's face it, kids, that's enough favorite things to put raindrops on kittens and whiskers on roses! But let's not forget that there are better things than THINGS. I can't name better things than years of friendships, getting the lead in a musical, getting a story published, and getting a fiance who likes to do what we did in the privacy of our bedroom last night from 9:30 to 10:00.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!