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December 30, 2002

Ye Olde Reading List for the New Year

Well, we were hoping to go cross-country skiing here in Muskegon over New Year's, but with the weather hovering around 50 degrees that seems an unlikely prospect. The ski trails in north Muskegon are very nice (for a pathetic skier like myself, that is)--they even light them up at night with old-fashioned lampposts. Ah well, I'm sure we'll get more than enough snow over the next few months so I won't complain about its current mysterious absence.

So hey, I'm thinking about putting together a reading list for the new year. Any suggestions? Since I wouldn't dream of asking for contributions without reciprocating, here are a few excellent books I've read in the last year or so that I heartily recommend:

  • Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabakov. I love books where you can't trust the narrator to tell the truth, and this is the classic example of that. A very intriguing novel.

  • Shogun by James Clavell. I re-read this earlier this year, and it was just as entertaining as I remembered it from years ago. Lots of samurai, a few ninjas, and people committing seppuku on every other page.

  • House of Leaves by Mark Danielewski. One of the most interesting novels I've ever read; it owes a great deal to Nabakov above (in fact, I was introduced to Nabakov through this book). House of Leaves screws around with the concept of narrative like nothing you've ever seen before.

  • An Instance of the Fingerpost by Iain Pears. A historical murder mystery set in England in the late 1600s. The novel consists of four sections authored by four different people who witnessed a murder and the events surrounding it. Each of them describes the same crime--and each fingers a different culprit.

They're all well worth the time, if you're looking for something interesting and slightly different to read.

December 29, 2002

Closing weekend thoughts

So it's turned out to be quite a movie-filled weekend for me. Closing off the weekend was the movie Cube, which has been recommended to me by various people over the last few years. It was quite enjoyable--not a great movie, but a very good one; well worth the rental. It's basically another iteration of the "several-strong-personality-types-clash-under-circumstances-of-extreme-stress" genre, but it manages to be quite a bit more clever than your typical survival flick. A few of the characters were somewhat annoying and/or over the top, but those fiendishly cool traps more than made up for it. Overall the movie reminded me of a dungeon roleplaying session: a handful of characters, lots of traps, and a maze of twisting passages, all alike.

Speaking of roleplaying, I note that a roleplaying game based on Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri is out. Looks fascinating--with its heavy philosophical bent and interesting environment, AC could be a unique roleplaying setting if done well. Too bad I'm not very familiar with the rules system it uses. Despite my enjoyment of sci-fi, I've never played or run a sci-fi RPG for more than a few sessions, with the exception of one extended campaign in the woefully underappreciated Spelljammer universe. Maybe it's time for me to branch out?

At any rate, it's been a great Christmas vacation, and a nice weekend of relaxing and getting the apartment in order. Tomorrow I plunge head-first back into the real world of jobs, war, and death. Carry on, then.

December 28, 2002

Adventures in anime

After spending the day doing housecleaning and running errands, I spent the evening watching two anime films that have been on my "get around to watching" list for some time.

Together, it turns out they pretty much embody the extremes of anime. Princess Mononoke is a wonderful, thought-provoking film about the interaction between mankind and the environment in a fantasy feudal-Japan type setting. Ninja Scroll is the embodiment of anime's dark side: a slickly animated but meaningless exercise in excessive gore and the degredation of women. The former I highly recommend if you're interested in seeing what anime can be when it's well-thought-out and beautifully implemented; the latter owes me 94 minutes of my life back in recompense for my sitting through the entire thing.

So yeah, I really liked Princess Mononoke. And I didn't realize until it was over and the credits were rolling that it features the voices of Gillian Anderson, Minnie Driver, and Billy Bob Thornton--that was a fun surprise. I also found it to be a good bit more accessible than most anime. Recommended.

Three posts in one day--can you tell I don't know what to do with my life when the wonderful, beautiful Michele isn't around?

Gaming in the good old days

I'm a sucker for nostalgia; it doesn't take much to launch me into a full-blown reminiscing session. A few days ago, while looking through some shelves downstairs in my parents' house, I was hit by a full-blown physical wave of 80s nostalgia. Opening a long-unused cabinet in the basement (more like a sub-level of the house; we don't have many actual basements in California), I was momentarily stunned to find a shelf full of... computer game boxes.

But these weren't just any computer game boxes. These were game boxes from the heyday of gaming, from that idyllic era in the mid-'80s before computer games all looked like Quake and had development budgets soaring into the millions. Before Myst, before Doom and its ilk. The days when LOAD "*",8,1 was the secret pass-phrase to a world of adventure limited only by the 16 colors on your monitor and the amount of time you were willing to wait for your Commodore 64's disk drive (the floppy disk drive itself being a new and exciting successor to the tape drive and cartridge) to noisily load your game.

Few things fueled my childhood imagination more than computer games (Tolkien and Star Wars being other prominent influences). I have always looked back at the days of the Commodore 64 as the absolute height of gaming, a time when games weren't bound hard and fast to genres, when a good game could break all the rules and conventions and try new things you hadn't seen done before. And so I thought it might prove interesting to pick a handful of my favorite old games and ponder for a few moments their greatness. Join me on my trip down memory lane!

  1. Adventure Construction Set -- Electronic Arts, 1984

    I very nearly died of sheer joy the day this game came into my hands. Adventure Construction Set (ACS) promised the Holy Grail of gaming: the ability to create your own adventures, with stories and locales limited only by your imagination. ACS came pretty close to that elusive goal. With ACS, you could create full-blown playable adventure/roleplaying games; you would first design a world map; then populate it with cities, rivers, and other adventure locations; and finally fill it with people, monsters, and treasures of your own design. It even let you draw your own graphics and define individual attributes for the items and creatures you placed in your world.

    The possibilities opened by this game were simply mind-blowing, and I filled many a notebook with design notes, hastily sketched maps, and plot ideas as I planned out the games I would create. I can't think of any other game that prompted me to do so much brainstorming. While weighted towards the fantasy genre, the massive amount of customization you could do in ACS allowed for games set in outer space, the modern world, distant history, or whatever bizarre universe you could dream up.

    Interestingly, this game more than anything else taught me the importance of planning out projects before diving headlong into them; ACS' options were so open-ended that it was terribly easy to get caught up in designing specific elements of an adventure without having a clear goal in mind to guide the design. In the many years that have passed since ACS came and went, very few if any programs have attempted to give users the massive scope of creative control that ACS did. World-builder programs never seemed to catch on, although very recent, heavily-customizable games like Neverwinter Nights may spark a promising shift in that direction. We can only hope.

  2. Heart of Africa -- Ozark Softscape, 1985

    The sequel to the equally excellent game Seven Cities of Gold, Heart of Africa (HoA) also filled many of my after-school afternoons. In HoA, you played the role of an explorer in 1890 searching the continent of Africa for the tomb of an ancient pharaoh. You could purchase needed supplies and equipment at cities and villages that you came across in the course of your exploration, and keeping the natives friendly was an important part of staying alive. The beauty of this game was its sheer size; the entire continent of Africa was out there to be explored, screen by screen; and it was filled to the brim with villages, rivers, mountains, and other interesting locations. The game consisted of you trekking through the deserts and mountains searching for clues that would lead you to the location of the lost tomb.

    This game's greatness stemmed from its wonderful atmosphere of exploration and discovery. Each new village you came across was a spectacular new find; following great rivers through the heart of the continent to see where they'd lead you was a genuine thrill; and it was simply great fun to travel for days, low on food and desperate for supplies, and suddenly stumble upon one of Africa's great geographic wonders (like Mount Kilimanjaro) or a massive hidden city.

    Like world-building construction games, exploration games like HoA and its predecessor Seven Cities seemed to slip entirely off the radar by the 1990s; I'm not aware of any recent efforts in the genre. It's a shame, as there are few games left that capture the thrill of discovery and the wonder of exploration in the way that HoA did.

  3. Wasteland -- Electronic Arts, 1987

    Ah, Wasteland, the game considered by many to be the single greatest computer game ever created. Wasteland was a roleplaying game set in the western U.S. after a nuclear holocaust has destroyed civilization as we know it. Your job is to assemble a team of "Desert Rangers" and venture out into the wastes to explore newly awakened pockets of civiliazations in California and Nevada, and to investigate sinister rumors about an army of machines.

    Computer roleplaying games were nothing new at this point, but Wasteland put several new spins on the genre. The one that struck me the most was its non-linearity. Unlike most games of its era, it was extremely non-linear in nature; locations, puzzles, and challenges could be faced in whatever order you chose. Of course, many encounters were too difficult to be faced until you had gathered a great deal of experience and firepower, but there was nothing stopping you from trying. The beauty of the game was the way that it gently nudged you in the right direction--always hinting at your next step--instead of railroading you through the storyline by taking away your ability to choose what to do next. Thus the plot unfolded much more gradually than in most games, but was a more rewarding experience in the end.

    Wasteland was a great gaming experience that took months to complete. It gave you a fully-developed world and invited you to explore it at your leisure. The game has received several pseudo-sequels in the excellent Fallout series of games, but in my opinion it remains at the top of the list of great roleplaying games despite its age and technical limitations.

  4. Airborne Ranger -- Microprose, 1987

    Airborne Ranger (AR) was a truly different kind of game. The plot was simple--you are an U.S. Ranger who must infiltrate numerous enemy bases and accomplish a variety of missions. Although that sounds like every other shoot-em-up ever created, AR was nothing like the numerous kill-everything-that-moves games that were floating around at the time.

    If AR had to be put in a genre, it might be called a "military simulation." It presented you with an objective and then forced you to go about accomplishing it in a realistic manner. Realistic weapons and an emphasis on stealth over gunplay were the rules of the game. In each mission, you dropped several supply crates into enemy territory, then parachuted into the target area and began slowly making your way towards your objective. With very limited amounts of ammunition, explosives, and medical kits, simply going in guns blazing was not an option. Instead, you had to slowly crawl through dry riverbeds, cautiously make your way around minefields, carefully scan the enemy lines looking for gaps in their patrols through which you could sneak... occasionally knifing a guard (gunshots attracted attention) and stealing a uniform to get you a bit closer to your goal. Along the way, if you were able, you could pick up supplies from the crates you dropped, assuming that they hadn't fallen into minefields or too close to enemy encampments (both common occurences).

    I have yet to see a game quite like AR. When it first came out, there was nothing at all like it out there--most military games were just shallow shoot-em-up action games. Only in very recent years have elements of AR-like realism been making their way into first-person shooters like Rainbow Six. The emphasis on stealth and intelligence over massive firepower was a refreshing one, and hopefully it will make a comeback as today's gun-heavy first-person-shooters grow somewhat tiresome.

And there you have it: four games that entertained me for months, even years, as I grew up. Playing these games was an experience akin to reading a good book--you got to spend a few hours immersed in the world of somebody else's imagination. There has never been a shortage of games that amount to nothing more than a waste of time, but these managed to distance themselves from the crowd and offer something unique to the player. Here's hoping we see more games in the future that stretch boundaries and genres and push the medium in new and interesting ways!

Surely there were other great games in the 80s, and surely you played some of them. Tell me what games took hold of your imagination during the era of Reagan and Madonna!

Just say no

Well, I'm back in Muskegon after a wonderful Christmas. Am I happy? No, I am not. I am not happy because I just finished watching the most depressing movie of all time. Yes, I watched Requiem for a Dream. I cannot remember watching in recent years anything approaching the sheer bleak hopelessness of this film.

That said, it was an amazing, incredibly powerful movie. It is essentially a case study of drug addiction as experienced in the lives of four people, each of whom is ruled by a different type of drug addiction. The movie shows you four dysfunctional but likeable characters--and then it forces you to watch as they utterly destroy their lives. In numerous scenes, visual tricks and clever camerawork actually pull you into the delusions and terror the characters experience as their addictions unravel their minds and destroy their futures and their dreams. As the film progresses, the film pulls no punches whatsoever as it tells its hellish story: the characters gradually transform from fun-loving individuals with hopes for the future into hopeless, completely addicted junkies who must sink to the lowest depths of degredation and shame in order to get their fixes. As the credits rolled, I could only sit in stunned horror at the nightmare scenario I had just witnessed.

This was a remarkable and supremely unsettling film. I'm very glad I saw it (thanks to Alan for recommending it). But I never want to see it again. Requiem is one of those movies that everyone should watch at least once--but it's a searing and difficult-to-watch two hours that will probably gather dust on Blockbuster shelves, ignored by the unwashed masses who are more interested in absorbing the latest soul-killing waste of film instead (says the guy who sat through most of the Wing Commander movie... physician, heal theyself and all that).

On the plus side, this movie should clear up any lingering doubts about whether or not doing drugs is a good idea. Two hours of this movie is more effective than a lifetime's worth of "Just Say No" TV ads.

December 24, 2002

Christmas Eve!

I was to take a break from the usual routine here for a moment to wish everyone a merry Christmas! I'm going to single out for especially emotional holiday greetings my fellow bloggers, whose musings give me great joy and amusement: Ron (Ron: I hope you get what you deserve for Christmas), Joel, Peter, Alan (a pox upon Alan, who cleverly baited me into that most futile of Internet activities, posting about politics), and my wonderful wife-to-be Michele. And Brian, who doesn't have a blog yet, but should.

Merry Christmas! You are all appreciated.

December 23, 2002

It should have been different

My interest piqued by this thread on "alternative history" outcomes of World War 2, today I have been pondering the topic of alternate histories. Topics like this come up a fair amount in sci-fi and fantasy circles, and it's also generally impossible to have a discussion about World War 2 without the conversation turning at some point to questions of alternate history: "What if so-and-so had done this differently?" "Things would have been totally different if only the Axis done this or not done that." I have a few thoughts on the topic of alternative histories and the neverending tendency of humans to look for specific turning points in history.

I am simultaneously intrigued and annoyed by questions of alternate history. I'm intrigued because I think it's simply human nature to look at the past and wonder what might have happened had things gone just slightly differently. On the other hand, I get annoyed at most attempts at proposing alternate histories because most of them focus on specific events without considering the historical context in which those events played out.

For example, to continue with the World War 2 theme, it is common for historians (both lay and professional) to make sweeping claims about the outcome of World War 2 being based on specific events. If Germany had only captured Moscow in their initial invasion of Russia, Russia would have collapsed and the Axis' victory assured. If only Hitler had not critically delayed the German advance during the initial stages of Barbarossa, the Germans would have captured Moscow (see previous sentence). If only the Japanese had taken out the U.S. carrier group in the Pearl Harbor attack, the U.S. would never have been able to defeat them. If only Rommel had been allowed to respond to the D-Day invasion, the assault would have failed and the Allies would have been forced to sue for an armistice. If only... if only... the war would have turned out completely differently.

All of these conjectures are interesting, but the tendency in all these cases (and there are many more) is to place ludicrously disproportionate importance on specific events that in almost all cases were the results of a slew of historical processes, not the cause of those processes. In my reading, I have come to adopt a somewhat deterministic view of history: individual battles, events, and decisions often seem to have had major impacts on the development of subsequent history, but a closer examination of the historical contexts usually reveals that those events are usually more like symptoms of already-developing historical situations than they are catalysts for them.

Resisting the urge to imbue each major event in World War 2 with apocalyptic import, we see that in many cases, the outcomes were all but predetermined. If Hitler had managed to capture Moscow in the first waves of Barbarossa, the Soviet Union might have collapsed... but it's far likely that Soviet forces would have simply retaken it from badly weakened German occupiers within months, and the war would have dragged on just as it did in real history. It's possible that Germany might have taken Moscow if they hadn't delayed around Smolensk, but a host of other factors--extreme cold, crippling supply problems, slowly growing Soviet competence in the face of the invasion, and others--would still have had to be overcome somehow. The Japanese might have extended the war by six months or so with a more successful Pearl Harbor attack, but that wouldn't have affected the insurmountable natural resource shortages that had already doomed their war effort. Rommel might have made a difference in the D-Day invasion, but a host of other factors--not the least of which are things like Allied air superiority over Europe--would have conspired so as to make the end result--disaster for the Germans--the same. And even if the D-Day invasion had been repulsed, it's not like Germany's myriad other problems (which were by this point fast approaching Berlin in the form of Soviet tanks) would have simply vanished and given them victory.

No, in almost all of these cases, major battles and events were simply the icing on the cake, historically speaking. Economic, cultural, and geographic factors had more or less decided the course of events far in advance, such that savage Axis defeats later in the war simply played into unfolding historical patterns; they were not miraculous opportunities whereby the Axis might have totally reversed the oncoming tide of history. Germany lost badly at Kursk and Stalingrad because of already-existing deficiencies in supply, command, and strategy; the defeats did not magically doom the German war efforts in and of themselves. The same could be said for each of the many naval defeats Japan suffered as the Pacific War ground onwards; in each case, their defeats were generally fairly natural and predictable outcomes of years of bad strategy and foolish decisions. Barring something truly, massively surprising (it would have to involve nuclear weapons), these battles and decisions were simply determining how soon the war would end, not whether or not it would. Might the Axis have extended the war by a few months? Sure. But after the start of the war, there was only one way for them to go, and that was down. History had already decreed it, and while they could hope to slightly rearrange the outcome, the "big picture" was not likely to change unless a whole host of new factors came into play.

All this is to say that, short of massive evidence to the contrary, I try to avoid speaking of specific historical events as if they were all crucial turning points. Making wild claims about how history would have been completely different if particular events had gone differently is irresponsible and requires that you close your eyes to that most important of considerations--context.

December 21, 2002

Christmas hack & slash

Well, the D&D game (and the requisite post-game chatting and visiting) are finished, and I'm enjoying a quiet evening here at my parents'. Roleplaying game sessions like today's, especially with so many old friends (some of whom I've seen only a handful of times in years), are some of the most anticipated of my vacation activities. The game is always a blast, but indescribably cooler is the simple joy of relaxing with friends, telling jokes, and stretching our imagination just a bit. As is typical in our game sessions, today's game included just the right mix of roleplaying, armchair battle strategizing, and laugh-until-you-cry moments of comic relief. The game broke down for a good five or ten minutes of laughter and good-natured mockery when my friend Bill's character, attempting during a dramatic moment to throw a magic ring across a chasm to the people on the other side, botched his dice roll and threw the ring into the chasm. See, these things just aren't all that funny outside the game. Had to be there and all that.

I think the only thing more geeky than actually playing Dungeons and Dragons might be writing about one's D&D experiences in a weblog. I truly have no shame.

California dreaming

So here I am in southern California--where it's raining, but is still a good bit warmer than it was in Michigan when I left. Right now I'm sitting at the living room table looking out at the amazing view from my parents' house. It's too cloudy to see the ocean today, but I'm watching a gigantic white cloud moving through the valley below, following the the course of I-15 through the mountains. Michigan really, really needs more mountains.

Last night I saw The Two Towers for the third time--and despite my love for the film, even this fanboy needs a break from the movie for a while (I'm thinking a few days). This time around, I noticed some new aspects of the film that slipped past me in the first two viewings (spoilers blah blah):

  • Aragorn can apparently be bested in swordsmanship by every female in Middle Earth.

  • To Arwen: have you noticed that all the other Elves in the movie manage to portray their Elvishness without breathlessly whispering all of their lines?

  • Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas can faultlessly track a troop of Orcs that have a full days' head start on them, but they only notice a thundering horde of mounted galloping Rohirrim about 5 seconds before they charge onto the scene.

  • Elrond and Galadriel need to sharpen their seeing-the-future skills. Elrond has supposedly foreseen that the quest will claim Frodo's life. No, it won't.

  • Shame on Peter Jackson for killing off Haldir at Helm's Deep. I'll forgive him for putting canonical Middle Earth characters in places where they really shouldn't be, but when you do so you aren't allowed to kill them off.

  • the "female dwarf" discussion is just classic.

  • the battle of Helm's Deep was one of the few "large battle" scenes I can remember seeing on film in which we, the viewers, knew what was going on tactically during the battle even while we witnessed the exploits of individual heroes. Usually movies like this seem to focus in exclusively on a handful of characters throughout the fight, leaving you with little sense of the larger strategic picture. Nice.

  • I noticed for the first time the burning Ent dowsing himself in the flood-water at Isengard. Very cute.

  • The entire kingdom of Rohan apparently consists of:

    • 54 cute children and babies
    • 75 mothers and old women
    • 164 really old guys
    • 7 actual warriors
    • 1 cowardly king

Now I'm off to DM a Dungeons and Dragons session with some friends, in what seems to be our annual dungeon hack-fest. Bring on the Orcs!

December 19, 2002

Two Towers redux

Well, I just emerged from my second viewing of The Two Towers, and I must say that I enjoyed it even more this time. It really is a phenomenal film. Somehow my nitpicky gripes about its adherence to the original novel seemed to pale before the sheer cinematic glory of the film. I really will try to put together some comments more enlightened than "I loved it" at some point. I bet you can't wait!

December 18, 2002

The Two Towers: some brief reactions

OK, I'll take the plunge and try to put some of my thoughts on The Two Towers into writing. These opinions will no doubt be subject to change as the weeks move by and I sit through more viewings of the film (it took me several weeks of waffling to decide that I really liked Fellowship, and I suspect the same will hold true with this movie as well).

It has rarely been this difficult for me to decide what I thought of a film. On the one hand, it cannot be denied that this was a tremendous movie. It was more exciting, moving, and epic than anything I've seen since Fellowship. On the other hand, during parts of the movie I felt as if the Middle Earth I was watching wasn't really the Middle Earth of the books, the one I grew up reading about.

It wasn't the altered or added scenes that bothered me--it was the gnawing sense (which began to grow in me during Fellowship) that these developing characters are moving more and more away from their portrayals in the original books. Who is this Elrond who loathes men and holds Aragorn in contempt? Why is this Faramir such a jerk? Why is this Theoden such a coward even after his release from Wormtongue's deception? Why is this Aragorn a doubt-ridden loner who doesn't appear to be driven by any particular purpose? Perhaps these new, improved versions of the characters make for a better film. But at times they seem to bear little resemblance to their literary counterparts, and so it's hard to truly enjoy many of the scenes in Two Towers without wanting to apologize to Tolkien for what we're doing to his beloved creations.

Ah, but lunch is over and I must return to work. More later, as I piece together my opinions.

December 17, 2002

Soon, my precious... soon...

In a matter of hours I will be watching The Two Towers with a veritable slew of friends--Max, Ron, Joel, and Alan. You will no doubt be subjected to my opinions of the movie once I find the time to write them down. I must confess that a vague unease accompanies my excitement into this one, as I have heard that more liberties have been taken with the storyline of The Two Towers than were with Fellowship. Being a Tolkien pseudo-purist who has yet to accept the presence of Arwen in the first film, this is of great concern to me.

In the meantime I have been poring over a fascinating article at Salon, kindly pointed out to me by Alan, about The Lord of the Rings. I don't entirely buy the article's central argument--and I'm getting really tired of reading smug references to the trilogy's alleged racist undertones--but it's thought-provoking nonetheless. Terry Mattingly's column this week, also about Tolkien, is equally worth your time.

Oh, and tomorrow I fly out to California for a much-anticipated Christmas vacation. My next entry may well be posted from the idyllic climes of Escondido, California.

December 16, 2002

Baudolino

I am what you might call an Umberto Eco fanboy. The Name of the Rose might be my favorite novel of all time, and I loved both Foucault's Pendulum and The Island of the Day Before. Heck, I've even tried (unsucessfully) to slog through Eco's nonfiction (I made it a full 150 pages into this book before my brain exploded). Which is all to say that it is extremely odd that I am not enjoying his latest novel, Baudolino, nearly as much as I should be. It's well-written, it's humorous, it's set during one of the most fascinating periods of history... but two months after purchasing it, I'm still languishing around page 200. Either Eco is losing his creative edge, or (oh the shame) multiple viewings of the thrice-damned Dungeons and Dragons movie have actually eroded my intellectual ability to recognize great literature when it's thrust in front of me. I'm afraid we all know which is the more probable explanation.

December 15, 2002

Christkandlmarket

Today I journeyed to Chicago--as I am wont to do on weekends--to visit with Michele. We went downtown (which is very nicely decorated for the holidays) and partook, for the second year in a row, in Christkandlmarket Chicago--an annual festival of sorts in which people from various cities in Germany come and set up booths selling traditional German food and goods. Surrounded by booths selling bratwurst, schnitzel, and sauerkraut, I almost wished that I liked beer so that I could partake of that most popular of German delicacies; Michele, who is more adventurous than I, tried a spiced wine beverage of some sort whilst I contented myself with a hot chocolate.

At any rate, it was great fun, and I just wish I had a spare couple hundred dollars with which to buy one of the really cool handmade cuckoo clocks being sold at one booth. If you're in the Chicagoland area over the holidays, you owe it to yourself to check it out. Just wait for a day when it's snowing, and then go warm yourself in the beer tent with a steaming hot drink of some sort (and be sure to talk in a fake German accent while you're at it).

December 14, 2002

Alan rocks.

Wow, my humble blog has only been online for a couple days, and already it has attracted the notice of blogging industry giants. Alan, friend and sometimes opponent on the field of battle, gave me a cool mention on his blog. He also has written some reflections on ST: Nemesis which are worthy of your immediate attention.

December 13, 2002

Dissecting Star Trek: Nemesis

I saw Star Trek: Nemesis tonight. The abbreviated verdict: it's really, really good. While it remains fresh in my mind, I've taken a few moments to write down some of my thoughts and reactions to it. If you can stand to read a sci-fi fan's pretentious opinions about the latest Star Trek film, read on. Spoilers abound; you have been warned.

I had a good feeling about this one going into the theater, and the movie did not let me down. A few things that struck me about the movie, and about what it reveals to us about the Star Trek universe:

  • the Federation really, really needs to figure out the whole "cloaking technology" thing. I mean, enemy ships with cloaking devices have been terrorizing the freedom-loving peoples of the galaxy for how many ST movies now? Apparently every spacefaring race in the entire universe has developed cloaking technology for its ships, but the Federation, bastion of freedom and the pursuit of knowledge, just can't figure it out. I mean, it's a safe bet that even the primitive, gun-wielding, jeep-driving aliens from the first half of this movie probably had cloaking technology perfected.

  • I would really like to see a Tholian. We don't get to see a Tholian in this movie, but for a moment they dangle before the audience the possibility that we just might see one, and for that brief anticipatory thrill, I thank you, Nemesis.

  • the bad guy's starship--the Reman Scimitar--is hands-down the coolest bad-guy ship to hound the Enterprise since the Klingon Bird of Prey from several movies earlier. When it decloaked for the first time, I experienced a visceral thrill akin to the time in ST3 when we see the Bird of Prey decloak right behind a soon-to-be-destroyed pirate vessel. ST has always been great at using starship and architectural designs to communicate the values and dispostion of the owning race--from the brutish, predatory designs of Klingon warships to the non-threatening, almost soothing ovoid designs of Federation ships. The brooding menace of the Scimitar and its owners is clearly conveyed the instant we set eyes on it.

  • annoying characters are kept mostly to the sidelines in Nemesis. There are a few terrible scenes in which Beverly Crusher has lines (helpfully informing the crew and the audience that lethal radiation is very very bad). But at least Gynan, the Star Trek character than which none more horrific can be conceived, only gets one or two short lines.

  • the movie had some very strong emotional scenes--especially from captain Picard. Good, believable stuff; when something happens to one crewmember, the anguish of the others feels real and inspires empathy from the audience.

  • I don't really understand why the evil alien viceroy employed his telepathic powers to cause mental anguish to counselor Troi. I guess he's just a very evil person who is really mean.

  • I'm also not entirely clear exactly what the bad guy's motivations were. Why is he bent on destroying Earth exactly? And does he need captain Picard's DNA, or does he not? Because I counted over 8,000 moments in the film where he could have just gotten captain Picard and taken his DNA, but instead Picard kept getting released.

But all these comments aside, what clearly makes this movie great is the phenomenal space battle scene that occupies the final third of the film. The space battle in this movie--between the Enterprise and the Scimitar (with a brief but awesome appearance by two Romulan Warbirds)--is everything I have ever wanted to see in a Star Trek movie. We have not seen a Star Trek space battle scene this great since ST2. Some highlights:

  • first and foremost, I loved the way that the battle scene really communicated the scale and nature of ST deep-space combat: less like Star Wars fighters and more like World War I dreadnaughts. I got a really strong sense that these were massive battlecruisers manuvering for advantage, struggling to outguess the opponent's moves, and unloading massive broadsides into each other at close range. In Nemesis, as it should be, killing a starship is a long and brutal process that requires hitting it with a massive amount of sheer firepower; there is no cheesy "weak spot" that when hit will cause the enemy ship to just explode. And defeated ships don't explode (as if any sane captain would keep a super-expensive starship in a fight long enough to be obliterated); they list off into space or are forced to disengage. ST is traditionally weak in this area, and so seeing an honest-to-God space juggernaut battle was simply awesome.

  • seeing the Enterprise and the two warbirds moving in formation, probing the battlespace for the Scimitar by firing torpedo and phaser spreads, was just breathtakingly cool. Also, the ruse used by the bad guys to take out the last Warbird was classic and very ST. Occurences like this remind us that a ST capital ship battle is as much about outwitting the other captain as it is about having lots of guns and shields.

  • it was nice to see the strengths and weaknesses of the different ships types as they played out in combat. The Enterprise is a formidable and manuverable opponent, but it can't go toe-to-toe with a fully loaded-out (but less agile) warship like the Scimitar. The smaller and faster Enterprise and Warbirds use speed to stay alive while taking potshots at the heavier Scimitar. The Enterprise's shields get knocked out entirely by the end of the fight, but the Scimitar's shields are still at 70% during the final phase of the confrontation.

  • I was pleased to see that the Handrails of Death which seem to be standard issue in all Federation (and Klingon) starships did their jobs well, causing many a nameless ensign to flip over them dramatically when the Enterprise gets hit.

Was the movie perfect? By no means; it's riddled through with plot holes, unexplored moral issues (some of the scenes with B4--the earlier version of Data--were heartwrenching, and the tension-laden, melodramatic discussions between Picard and Zin-shon about topics like fate and free will should have been expanded),and shaky storyline development (what exactly is the bad guy doing?). But in the end, it made me wish that our universe was just a little bit more like the Star Trek universe, where good and evil clash and heroes push the limits of their own ability to overcome inner and outer demons alike. In classic ST tradition, it coats its tremendous action sequences and imaginative visuals with just enough "deep thoughts" to make you feel like you're watching a smarter movie than you actually are. And that's exactly what I wanted from this film.

Good stuff.

December 12, 2002

Inaugural post

At last! My own blog, set up with some help from beloved pcg.

It seems customary, when introducing a personal website, to offer both an apology for its unattractive design and a wild promise that it will look incredibly cool once the site owner finds the time to beautify it. Consider this mine.

I'm off to play a quick match of Combat Mission before bed. Or maybe Return to Castle Wolfenstein, which would be the opposite end of the spectrum, as far as intellectual challenges go. The latter features more fire-breathing mutant Nazi zombies and less calculating of fatigue points, so I think I may go with that.

Until next time.