Blógünder Schlock

Well, that’s it for the first half of the aughts. In another four years we’ll be putting aught-nine to rest, and we can FINALLY have a decade that people can refer to without using antiquated nomenclature (except for those people who regularly shop for ammunition, for whom 30.06 is pronounced thirty-aught-six, and who might object to “aught” being called antiquated.) We’re halfway to the tens! Granted, as a decade goes, even the tens will sound pretty lame compared with the two-syllable decades like the twenties.

I wonder if our next trip through the seventies will be better than the last one. Are all three-syllable decades doomed? Does anyone here have an opinion about the 1870s? (more…)

I called my brother in Ithaca on Christmas Day to wish him and his family a Merry Christmas. It was a little after 6pm here in Utah, so I figured they’d all still be up, and I was right.

As it turns out, he’d been up almost all night Christmas Eve emptying mousetraps. He explained to me how they modified an ordinary spring-loaded mousetrap so that the clever, bait-stealing mice will die every time. I was surprised at the ingenuity, at the horrible simplicity of his modifications.

Me, I use peanut butter on the trigger, and I only use a tiny bit. I tuck it into the fold or curl of metal at the end of the trigger tab, and greedy mice usually set the trap off trying to get every last bit of peanutty goodness out of the crevices. But only usually. Sometimes we get a mouse who is so delicate with its touch that the trap has been licked not just clean but SHINY, and remains un-tripped in the morning.

My brother’s solution (and in the spirit of giving credit where it’s due, it may have been his wife’s solution) was to take the hot glue gun and affix a shelled peanut to the end of the trigger. A dab of peanut butter is then applied to the nut, peanut butter being a better attractant, and the trap is placed where the kids won’t play with it but the mice will.

And play they did. The trap kept waking him up, and he kept resetting and emptying it. They killed five mice on the Night Before Christmas, which was obviously a terrible family tragedy for the mouse clan, but was cause for celebration at Chez Tayler East. Each victim got its fill of peanut butter, licking the nut clean, and then couldn’t resist trying to remove the final prize from the trigger. Ah, greed. It’s such a simple point of leverage, and yet so deadly.

Here at Chez Tayler Central (I’ve got a brother in NY and a brother in LA — that means I get to be “central”) we haven’t had mice in months. Part of me hopes they come back this winter. We’ve been selecting for mice with a soft touch in the past… now we’re going to start selecting for mice who can figure out that it’s a trap, and they just need to leave it alone. I don’t expect there to be many subjects left after the first generation. Evolution in action!

All this fuss over what to say to people at Christmas is a little silly. Sure, it would be disheartening to see political correctness taken to the point that “Merry Christmas” becomes a taboo phrase, but I don’t see “Happy Holidays” as the byline of the Anti-Christ. I’m pleased when someone greets me with a genuine wish that I might have more joy, regardless of the words they use. I don’t mind when a retail wage-slave reflexively recites something seasonal — at least not any more than I mind their mechanical mandate that I “have a nice day.” It gives me the opportunity to pause, reflect, and then wish them something appropriate.

This time of year you can get a smile with the response “Hang in there. Only (n) shopping days until Christmas, and I bet hardly ANYBODY will return stuff this year.”

There are those, of course, who will take offense at “Merry Christmas” AND “Happy Holidays.” Usually these are people whose own belief system doesn’t advocate any sort of holy day during this season, but sometimes they’re just grumpy people. Having been grumpy myself once or twice, I know where they’re coming from. And as a writer whose global audience almost certainly includes at least a couple of these people, I’m led to ponder what kind of greeting I could offer, what kind of message I could post that would be appropriate, inoffensive, and yet full of meaning.

I think I’ve found one. Worshippers of Christ will find it timely, and will see it as a reminder of who they are and what they should be about. Those familiar with the Christian message will certainly recognize it, but will find it difficult to argue with. Those unfamiliar with the lore of the season may wonder a bit at the wording, but will have a difficult time arguing with the sentiment.

And so it is that I hope you all enjoy peace on Earth, good will toward men.

(Uh-oh. I think I may have offended an entire camp of feminists. Is it too late for me to change “men” to “humans?”)

(And… here comes PETA, right on cue. I give up.)

I’m glad to see that a Federal Judge has ruled against teaching “Intelligent Design” in Pennsylvania biology classes. Intelligent Design is not science - not even BAD science - but it is bad religion. After all, any religion that has to lie about what it is in order to sneak into the building needs to take a long hard look at some of its own tenets regarding morality and integrity.

Now, before my religious friends lynch me… I believe that God created Heaven and Earth, and that His explanation of HOW he did it, as revealed to prophets throughout the ages, is about as complete as He needs it to be. More divine revelation as to His Methods and Means would not make any of us mortals more faithful. After all, most of us pay little enough attention to the revelations that have already been given. (more…)

Eric Burns, aka The Websnark, is (in my opinion, at any rate) the foremost critical voice in webcomics. And I say this not only because he has nice things to say about Schlock Mercenary, but because his criticism is so consistently SOLID, regardless of what he’s reading. Oh, and he respects the fact that his readers will disagree with him. Even when he says “I’ve given up on [webcomic ‘x’],” he does NOT berate the people who still read it and love it.

So yeah, I got ’snarked, and came out of it with a tasty, tasty biscuit. The low-carb diet precludes me EATING said biscuit, so I’m having it bronzed. I could use a trophy or two.

There’s a comment from me under that particular Websnark installment in which I carefully do NOT spoil the coming weeks and months of Schlock Mercenary. Since posting it I’ve thought a bit more about what I can and can’t say about Our Story Thus Far…

Remember a week or so ago when I mentioned C.S. Lewis and Christian Allegories? Lewis said that Narnia was a “supposal” rather than an allegory. Well, there are already a few of you who are looking at Petey, the Qlaviqlese, and Schlockiverse politics in general and wondering whether I’m creating some complex allegory for the current political scene. I’m starting to wonder if I know how C.S. Lewis felt.

I don’t follow politics closely enough to create a decent allegory for the complex mess we have worldwide in the 21st century, and I’m not sure I’d want to in any event. And I doubt Schlock Mercenary qualifies as a “supposal” under Lewis’ definition, though it’s possible that ALL science fiction is “supposal” in nature. I THINK what I’m creating can be regarded as “satire,” at least in some circles, but mostly I’m not thinking about that. I’m not a deliberate satirist. I’m just having fun, poking fun, and writing the story that The Voices In My Head narrate. One of them happens to be a nigh-omnipotent aggregated super-intelligence (nothing artificial about it, folks) who, in Ennesby’s words, is “meddling.”

*Sigh*. You know the Voices have the upper hand when I have to start quoting them in order to explain myself.

Sandra and I decided that King Kong was the one film we had to see together this holiday season. Then, like a jerk, I decided I couldn’t wait until next Thursday when we can both find time and a babysitter, so I went and saw it alone yesterday.

You need to see this film in theaters. I probably didn’t need to tell you that. I mean, come on… GIANT GORILLA.

You’ve seen the trailers, I’m sure. Often with trailers that good, I’m worried that they’ve shown me all the best parts of the film. Not so with King Kong. They’ve shown you tiny snippets taken from some of the best parts of the film, and they’ve very thoughtfully NOT shown you some of the VERY best bits.

I remember reading “Liberty Meadows” one day, and Frank Cho had drawn a gorilla fighting a bunch of velociraptors. The caption was along the lines of “Sorry, no story today. I just wanted to draw a monkey beating up on a bunch of dinosaurs.” Now, students of Cho’s work will likely tell you that this was a dig at the syndicates, because “monkey-boy” Frank Cho was sometimes at odds with his employers, the “dinosaur” syndicate editors. Regardless, I like to think that he really DID just want to draw a monkey fighting with dinosaurs. And if I’m right, Frank Cho will weep tears of joy while watching King Kong, because it will fulfill his darkest monkey-punching fantasies.

(Yes, I know, Kong is an APE, not a MONKEY. Understand, however, that “monkey” is a funnier word by several orders of magnitude. If Charlton Heston, in Planet of the Apes had said “Get your hands off me, you damn, dirty monkey,” the film would have been a smash-hit comedy.)

King Kong is just over three hours long. Don’t buy a drink at the theater unless you’ve got great bladder control, because I can’t think of a single place in that film where it’s okay to miss a few minutes. Just hold it in. And do go before the movie starts, kids.

Some will say that the film COULD have been shorter. Peter Jackson COULD have just given us two hours of eye-candy, with none of that bothersome STORY or CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Thankfully, he’s a better director than that. Even when Kong is not on the screen, your eyes will be. You’ll care about ALL these players, and you’ll keep watching to find out how their epic adventure changes them (hint: at least one of them becomes monkey-chow).

So… I’m over at PhysOrg.com reading some cool news — apparently another Kuiper belt object has been discovered, but the tilt of its orbital plane (47 degrees tilted from that of our Solar System’s planets) and its nearly circular orbit are playing havoc with existing theories for how the Kuiper belt formed and evolved.

Several words in the article appeared to be hyperlinked, and the first was the temporary name of the 500-to-1000 kilometer object: “Buffy.” I expected to be linked to articles about how temporary naming took a fun spin with “Xena” recently, but no, this was a sponsored link, and mousing over it gave me a pop-up about buying Buffy The Vampire Slayer on DVD.

There were other words in the article that were similarly linked — “remote,” “coax,” and “computers.” Each was pointed to a page that had absolutely NOTHING to do with Kuiper belt objects, or even astronomy. Go look at the article and see those words in context, and you’ll see what I mean.

I love HTML. I love the way the appropriate use of anchor tags and hyperlinks allows us to deepen our understanding of subjects by connecting words, terms, and phrases to articles that provide further information. The Astronomy Picture of the Day and Wikipedia both do this really, really well.

I also like Internet advertising. I have to — it pays my bills. But it’s getting better and better at connecting me with products, services, and information germane to what I’m reading about, or otherwise closely related to my own interests. Mind you, I block pop-ups, and scan pages for content before granting an eyeball to the ads, but it’s nice. If I’m in a hurry, the ads don’t slow me down a bit. I’ve designed my own site with this principle in mind.

But the method of inlining the ads used at PhysOrg hijacks the reader, confounding attempts at deeper understanding. PhysOrg just trained me to keep my mouse the heck out of that window while I’m reading — I can’t trust their hyperlinks.

Besides, I already own all seven seasons of Buffy on DVD.

This week’s marker-art auction is one of my all-time favorite pieces. It’s the “Dragon Cow,” and if you dare, you might just consider trying to milk it. I’m not sure what Dragon milk is good for, but I bet the process of acquiring it needs warning labels of its own: “The surgeon-general has determined that milking dragons causes broken ribs, excessive claw-marks, and possible passage through one or more additional stages of the food chain.”Obviously, the only way to do it safely is to pay someone else to do it, and to use an escrow service so the victim’s family can’t find you to come after you.

You know the drill: click on the picture to the right for the auction.

I’ve gotten lots of overwhelmingly positive email about my “Narnia” review below. Well… good. I don’t have to feel guilty for enjoying the movie enough to gush about it.

One reader pointed out that Easton Press has leather-bound Chronicles of Narnia for around $50 per title. If you’re a fan of very classy-looking books, if you like leather bindings and gold leaf trim, these are probably what you’re after. And if you know somebody ELSE who’d like them, now’s the perfect time of year to drop, umm… $350.

Note: While I do make a 4% commission on any Amazon.com purchases you make when linking into Amazon from this site, I don’t make a dime from Easton Press. See? I can gush for free — I just have to like your stuff.

I saw The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe Friday morning, and I loved it. This is a film I’ve already added to my list of “things we must eventually own,” but if you want to fully appreciate it, don’t wait for DVD. Aslan’s roar, among other things, is best appreciated when emanating from a dozen big speakers surrounding an audience full of wide-eyed mortals.

If you’ve never read the C.S. Lewis book from which the movie is drawn, you may want to not read further, because it’s very difficult to discuss Lewis’ work without spoiling at least SOME of it — especially for those already familiar with the archetypes found in the Christian mythos.

For the record, when I read The Chronicles of Narnia (all seven books) in grade-school, I enjoyed them fully, and the allegorical parallels to Christianity were completely lost on me. You CAN go into these books and this film with no religious background and not feel like you’re being preached to. For the believer, however, the allegory will underscore certain aspects of your belief, inviting you to further contemplate the mysteries, miracles, and manifestations of repentance, atonement, and forgiveness.

Whether or not you believe as I do, that Jesus Christ died and lived again to make eternal forgiveness possible for each of us, you’ll probably agree that the themes of forgiveness and personal sacrifice are worthy ones. The world could use a whole lot more of them. I really don’t want to spook the non-Christians among my readers — you folks will enjoy this film a lot.

But so far I’ve talked about the allegorical aspect, which, when you get right down to it, is not why most of us go to see movies. I know it’s not why I go see movies, at any rate. I like escapist entertainment, and The Chronicles of Narnia delivers this in spades. Four children between the ages of (I’m guessing here) six and sixteen are evacuated from London along with thousands of others during the Blitz, and end up staying with “the Professor” and his very narrow-minded housekeeper. The kids are bored, frightened, lonely, and homesick in turn, and then a doorway opens up to the magical world of Narnia.

Escapism — see?

In order to pull it off, the filmmakers have to resort to lots of effects, and while there were a few that didn’t work well for me, that’s because I’m the kind of butthead who goes into movies looking for the “seams.” If you don’t look for them, they won’t jump out at you. Mr. Tumnus is a Faun, with unguligrade legs (walks on hooves, like a horse, with what looks like “backwards” knees*), and if you just ACCEPT that, and stop trying to find the point at which actor James McAvoy stops, and the CGI starts, you’ll be happier. Especially since it’s hard to find that particular seam. It’s DISTRACTING. Cut that out. Watch. The. Movie.

More important than the effects, however, is the acting. The actors playing the children did a fine job. Georgie Henley, who plays the youngest girl Lucy, was magnificent. She was cute, she was innocent, she was THIS close to having a tantrum… and it didn’t look like “acting.” No seams. It just WAS. And the others weren’t a whit behind her. Edmund looked grouchy and scared. Susan was “thinky” and disbelieving. Peter was bossy and in over his head.

In the battle sequences, Edmund and Peter in armor looked like kids in armor. They didn’t magically become battle-ready, child-prodigy warlords. They had greatness thrust upon them, and the shoes were too big. If you’ve got kids of your own, or if you ARE a kid, this is both terrifying and exhilarating. And there weren’t any seams.

Probably the finest bit of seamlessness, however, was the creation of Aslan and Mr. and Mrs. Beaver. These were the best “talking animals” I’ve ever seen on film. No seams at all — they just WERE talking animals. Liam Neeson voiced Aslan, and I’m forever grateful that he has now been cast in an infinitely better”mentor” and “father-figure” role than that “Episode I” part upon which his talents were wasted. Aslan, after all, is EFFECTIVE.

If you have children, I believe this movie is quite safe for them to watch. The battle sequences are bloodless (there’s a lot of crashing around, and it’s quite furious, but this is NOT Kingdom of Heaven or Henry the Fifth) and while there’s a lot of peril, there’s a happy ending. Also, the kids in the story snap and argue and fight like siblings, but they also show love for each other, and pull together in ways we can only hope our own children will.

See it in theaters, and take your children. (Moment of hypocrisy: I’ll be taking only my oldest to see this in the theater. The 2nd oldest is terrified of big, loud theaters, the 5-ish-year-old can’t sit still to save her life, and the 3-year-old is THREE, for crying out loud.) Oh, and if you don’t already have the books, it’s not too late to order The Chronicles of Narnia** from Amazon for your kids (and yourself!) for Christmas. I’ve located our family’s copies, and will be re-reading the series now for the first time since I was 13 years old.

*Note: The “knees” you think you see going backwards on unguligrade legs are actually ankles. The REAL knee is higher up, and bends forwards, just like yours. Here’s a picture, courtesy of Animal Diversity Web.

**Another Note: The “Adult Edition” of The Chronicles of Narnia includes some explanatory essays, and is what I’ve linked above. The text of the stories remains unchanged. If you want JUST the stories, no commentary thank-you-very-much, a less expensive edition can be found here.

***And Yet Another Note: Students of literary criticism will no doubt take issue with my bandying about of the term “allegory” when discussing The Chronicles of Narnia. C.S. Lewis himself took issue with that, because in an allegory there is a one-to-one “mapping” of fiction to principle, and any such mapping attempt will fail between The Chronicles of Narnia and Christian canon. Lewis used the word “supposal” to describe what he was doing:

“I don’t say. ‘Let us represent Christ as Aslan.’ I say, ‘Supposing there was a world like Narnia, and supposing, like ours, it needed redemption, let us imagine what sort of Incarnation and Passion and Resurrection Christ would have there.’” — C.S. Lewis

This is all well and good, but for two things:

1. Within the context of the supposal, there are story elements which ARE allegorical, and where a one-to-one mapping succeeds. Thus, there are allegories within the overarching story. A book need not be a cover-to-cover allegory in order to CONTAIN allegories.
2. The lay reader won’t know a supposal from a suppository. Any review written for lay readers must use colloquial terminology, pedantic ire notwithstanding. Hence I say “allegory.”