Tuesday, May 27, 2003
The Naming O' The Kitty
I have a 14 page article on the E3 (Electronic Entertainment Exposition, for those of you who haven't sold your souls to the silicon devil...) that needs to be cranked out, like, SOON. So I'm busy at the moment.
However, I will make this brief (By my terms, anyway) appearance to state that Friendly Cat may have a name. The girlfriend is being cautious about this and refusing to actually commit to a name until it's proven that Friendly Cat is not a traiterous bitch who will run away at the first opportunity, (A pre-blog reference to Bianca, who jumped through a busted window slat one night and thus deprived the girlfriend of her first Very Own Cat) and so we'll probably wait another month or so before making it official, but thanks to a friend of hers who is also a cat lover and all around clever guy, we now have a very suitable name for Friendly Cat when the time comes.
Uno.
As in Spanish for "One."
Which is good, because it still sounds like a name as opposed to a thing, and it complements Zero nicely, which means that in future, you will probably reading references to The Binary Cats.
That is all.
Back to work.
I have a 14 page article on the E3 (Electronic Entertainment Exposition, for those of you who haven't sold your souls to the silicon devil...) that needs to be cranked out, like, SOON. So I'm busy at the moment.
However, I will make this brief (By my terms, anyway) appearance to state that Friendly Cat may have a name. The girlfriend is being cautious about this and refusing to actually commit to a name until it's proven that Friendly Cat is not a traiterous bitch who will run away at the first opportunity, (A pre-blog reference to Bianca, who jumped through a busted window slat one night and thus deprived the girlfriend of her first Very Own Cat) and so we'll probably wait another month or so before making it official, but thanks to a friend of hers who is also a cat lover and all around clever guy, we now have a very suitable name for Friendly Cat when the time comes.
Uno.
As in Spanish for "One."
Which is good, because it still sounds like a name as opposed to a thing, and it complements Zero nicely, which means that in future, you will probably reading references to The Binary Cats.
That is all.
Back to work.
Labels: Them Crazy Kitties
Saturday, May 24, 2003
The Not So Simple Saga Of Friendly Cat
Those of you that actually give a damn might be aware that we own a cat, named Zero. Those of you that give more than a damn might be aware that we have varying degrees of acquaintance with numerous cats that hang out in our neighborhood. We have a tendency to name them Function/Personality Aspect-Cat. As in, the cat that had kittens but couldn't take care of them is Lousy Mom Cat. The brown Siamese cross that hangs out by a maintanence door all day is Chocolate Cat, and the big one that lives at the hawker center and occupies an entire bench by himself is Huge Cat, and our favoritest of all, the friendliest cat in the neighborhood who is always chilled out and affectionate whenever she sees us is Friendly Cat.
Those of you who not only give more than damn but might experience an emotion resembling care may even be aware that recently, Thursday night, actually, we picked up Friendly Cat and officially added her to our crazed and artsey home.
The story goes something like this:
The Girlfriend has been wanting to adopt Friendly Cat for quite some time now, since we've seen her the neighborhood since we moved in 6 or so months ago. There's always been some concern over the fact that our first and original cat, Zero, is, to the say the least, an antisocial motherfucker who fears and loathes anyone he doesn't see on a regular basis, human or animal. This has been repeatedly proven as various cats have either been permanently introduced into the household (Like Bianca, who ran away) or temporarily, (In the case of Pathos, the little kitten we rescued a month or so back) to even Plea For Attention Cat, who was rescued after a vicious fight, shipped off to the SPCA and is doubtless dead by now.
The last straw on Thursday night came when, after mulling over "What if Friendly Cat has kittens like Lousy Mom Cat? What if she gets Cat AIDS? What if she gets hit by a car? What if some stupid young bored psycho takes her up to the roof, sets her on fire and throws her off (A real story, by the way...)?" we saw Friendly Cat being chased away from her usual bench by two black cats who may be new to the neighborhood. They cornered her under some bushes and we chased them off. The Girlfriend decided enough was enough and her favorite cat wasn't about to be perpetually bullied by a couple of dorks trying to establish territory, so she decided it was high time Friendly Cat had a proper home, and tonight was the time.
I stuck around while she went off to get the cat carrier. When she came back, it was almost eerie how Friendly Cat seemed to have expected all this. She was sitting on the table. The carrier was placed in front of her and door was unlatched and open. Friendly Cat just walked in and sat down. That was that.
We carried her back home and where every other cat we've put in the cage mewed like crazy, Friendly Cat made nary a sound, watching the world pass by with big, curious but calm eyes. At home, after a quick introduction to Zero which consisted of her hissing and growling from the cage and he hissing and growling from the rug, we placed her in her new room. She came out of the cage after a few cautious minutes of sniffing and promptly hopped on the washing machine, claiming it as her bed.
And that, we thought, was that.
We alternated between Zero and Friendly Cat running around the house while the other was confined somewhere, and, unlike Zero, Friendly Cat in true feline fashion has a thing for heights and prefers window ledges and tables, as is evinced in this "pre-op" photo here:
"But wait," you ask. "Did you just say 'pre-op?' What the bloody blue blazes do you mean by that?"
I'm getting to that.
There was going to be the usual House Cat-i-zation process that involved a check up to make sure she was in good health, her first series of vaccinations, test for Cat AIDS, deworming pill rammed down her throat, the appointment for her spaying and possibly a grooming at the hands of a professional since she's been on the streets all her life and could probably benefit from a bath.
The check up went off without a hitch and we found out that Friendly Cat was between 1-2 years, they couldn't place it anymore than that, only that she's relatively recent to adulthood.
Yesterday, while I was over at Playworks, the girlfriend noticed Friendly Cat licking at her right rear thigh (Okay, her right ass cheek) and when she looked, she noticed that Friendly Cat had pus coming out of what appeared to be two bite marks. She brought Friendly Cat to the vet again, and after an examination it was determined that probably due to the fight she'd just been rescued from the day before, Friendly Cat had been bitten three times, and that the wound had become infected and was now an abscess that needed to be lanced.
Which was done, last night, at the Vet's.
Friendly Cat is now sleeping in the laundry room, miserable and looking utterly hilarious in her plastic cone thingy to keep her from licking at the wound. We have to use a cotten swab to clean the wound twice a day with antiseptic, then powder it down with antibiotic, as well as ram a pill down her throat twice a day.
This is Friendly Cat, post-op, as of now:
And the abscessed wound in question. I'm sure you're all eager to see that...
So the final count is one geeky writer, one crazed artist, one anti-social Siamese Cross and one post-op cat with a stupid plastic cone around her head. And they say the traditional family unit is dead...
Those of you that actually give a damn might be aware that we own a cat, named Zero. Those of you that give more than a damn might be aware that we have varying degrees of acquaintance with numerous cats that hang out in our neighborhood. We have a tendency to name them Function/Personality Aspect-Cat. As in, the cat that had kittens but couldn't take care of them is Lousy Mom Cat. The brown Siamese cross that hangs out by a maintanence door all day is Chocolate Cat, and the big one that lives at the hawker center and occupies an entire bench by himself is Huge Cat, and our favoritest of all, the friendliest cat in the neighborhood who is always chilled out and affectionate whenever she sees us is Friendly Cat.
Those of you who not only give more than damn but might experience an emotion resembling care may even be aware that recently, Thursday night, actually, we picked up Friendly Cat and officially added her to our crazed and artsey home.
The story goes something like this:
The Girlfriend has been wanting to adopt Friendly Cat for quite some time now, since we've seen her the neighborhood since we moved in 6 or so months ago. There's always been some concern over the fact that our first and original cat, Zero, is, to the say the least, an antisocial motherfucker who fears and loathes anyone he doesn't see on a regular basis, human or animal. This has been repeatedly proven as various cats have either been permanently introduced into the household (Like Bianca, who ran away) or temporarily, (In the case of Pathos, the little kitten we rescued a month or so back) to even Plea For Attention Cat, who was rescued after a vicious fight, shipped off to the SPCA and is doubtless dead by now.
The last straw on Thursday night came when, after mulling over "What if Friendly Cat has kittens like Lousy Mom Cat? What if she gets Cat AIDS? What if she gets hit by a car? What if some stupid young bored psycho takes her up to the roof, sets her on fire and throws her off (A real story, by the way...)?" we saw Friendly Cat being chased away from her usual bench by two black cats who may be new to the neighborhood. They cornered her under some bushes and we chased them off. The Girlfriend decided enough was enough and her favorite cat wasn't about to be perpetually bullied by a couple of dorks trying to establish territory, so she decided it was high time Friendly Cat had a proper home, and tonight was the time.
I stuck around while she went off to get the cat carrier. When she came back, it was almost eerie how Friendly Cat seemed to have expected all this. She was sitting on the table. The carrier was placed in front of her and door was unlatched and open. Friendly Cat just walked in and sat down. That was that.
We carried her back home and where every other cat we've put in the cage mewed like crazy, Friendly Cat made nary a sound, watching the world pass by with big, curious but calm eyes. At home, after a quick introduction to Zero which consisted of her hissing and growling from the cage and he hissing and growling from the rug, we placed her in her new room. She came out of the cage after a few cautious minutes of sniffing and promptly hopped on the washing machine, claiming it as her bed.
And that, we thought, was that.
We alternated between Zero and Friendly Cat running around the house while the other was confined somewhere, and, unlike Zero, Friendly Cat in true feline fashion has a thing for heights and prefers window ledges and tables, as is evinced in this "pre-op" photo here:
"But wait," you ask. "Did you just say 'pre-op?' What the bloody blue blazes do you mean by that?"
I'm getting to that.
There was going to be the usual House Cat-i-zation process that involved a check up to make sure she was in good health, her first series of vaccinations, test for Cat AIDS, deworming pill rammed down her throat, the appointment for her spaying and possibly a grooming at the hands of a professional since she's been on the streets all her life and could probably benefit from a bath.
The check up went off without a hitch and we found out that Friendly Cat was between 1-2 years, they couldn't place it anymore than that, only that she's relatively recent to adulthood.
Yesterday, while I was over at Playworks, the girlfriend noticed Friendly Cat licking at her right rear thigh (Okay, her right ass cheek) and when she looked, she noticed that Friendly Cat had pus coming out of what appeared to be two bite marks. She brought Friendly Cat to the vet again, and after an examination it was determined that probably due to the fight she'd just been rescued from the day before, Friendly Cat had been bitten three times, and that the wound had become infected and was now an abscess that needed to be lanced.
Which was done, last night, at the Vet's.
Friendly Cat is now sleeping in the laundry room, miserable and looking utterly hilarious in her plastic cone thingy to keep her from licking at the wound. We have to use a cotten swab to clean the wound twice a day with antiseptic, then powder it down with antibiotic, as well as ram a pill down her throat twice a day.
This is Friendly Cat, post-op, as of now:
And the abscessed wound in question. I'm sure you're all eager to see that...
So the final count is one geeky writer, one crazed artist, one anti-social Siamese Cross and one post-op cat with a stupid plastic cone around her head. And they say the traditional family unit is dead...
Labels: My Life, Them Crazy Kitties
Wednesday, May 21, 2003
Avast Ye Scurvy Swab, There Be Massive Spoilers Ahead
Call it cute, call it pretentious, but Matrix Reloaded is bloated with references that may either make you think this movie is incredibly deep, or give you the impression that the Brothers Wachowski wanted you to think it was incredibly deep. Of the references that I have been aware of, I took what I remembered of my Classics and English courses and put together this rant, originally posted on my magazine's forum, and now here for all of you to see. Either I am indeed the master of useless knowledge, or simply have no life, it's all a matter of perspective. But anyway, here's the rant:
The speculation has been flying fast and furious, but so far, the theory that makes the most sense to me is that machines are, in fact, caretakers.
A little explanation:
1) The Animatrix episodes, in particular, the Second Renaissance episodes are constantly hammering you over the head with idea that it was humanity, with its fear of all things different/better/faster/stronger/smarter than they are, who refused to accept 01, engaged in war with 01, and finally blackened the skies. At every turn, the Machines were pleading for coexistence, but humans refused to even discuss the possibility. Of course, there were a few people here and there that did fight for sentient rights, be it organic or silicon, but they were ruled out.
2) The Councillor drags Neo down to the engineering level and gives that big speech about the essentially symbiotic relationship of humans to machines.
3) The architect KNEW that Neo was going to reject The One protocol that he had been enabled to execute, and yet did nothing to stop it, claiming that even with human genocide, there were "levels of surival that were still acceptable." This would indicate that the machines have never (As many, MANY people have pointed out since the first film) really NEEDED the humans as a power source.
Perhaps then, they are merely using the pods as a way of safekeeping, with the added bonus a supplementary supply of power, then? After all, it would mean a way to keep billions of people pacified with little or no requirements outside of food and waste disposal. Then, when humanity has reached a stage where perhaps they can actually tolerate the idea of human/machine coexistence, 01 can finally pull the plug and let them all out again?
So it seems to me and a few others that where the Wachowskis are going (Which would probably be better than an outright, ID4 style, "YEAH! WE KILLED THE ENEMY! WHOO HOO!") would be an admission that humans and machines must learn to co-exist, or ELSE.
Perhaps that also explains the necessity of a "rat trap" solution in the form of The One protocol. As is made evident in Reloaded, there will always be a 1% of the general population that will reject the Matrix. Zion was/is designed to be a collection point for those 1% and keep them out of trouble since they can't hack into the Matrix from deep in, and keep them all gathered in one place, so they can't cause too much trouble unless they venture out in the hovercraft. When they get to be too much trouble, The One protocol is enabled, their numbers are reduced to manageable levels, and the "rat trap" begins collecting troublemakers again.
HOWEVER, in the event that humanity is now ready to accept coexistence with the machines, you need people who already KNOW what the state of the world is, and can act as leaders/transition points for the staggering leagues of humans that would find themselves unplugged and not living in 21st century Earth anymore, but post-apocalyptic, no-clear skies Earth. The Council and the Zion population in general then, would act as that key to orient the newly unplugged and bring them up to speed on the state of the Real World. Thus Zion has two functions, keeping the rebels in check while the Matrix is still a necessity, and acting as guides for humanity when it no longer isn't.
All this gets kind of complicated when you toss in the A.Is, but it still works out. The Matrix is essentially addressing four major philosophical themes, Existentialism (The philosophy of choice, also see Xenosaga, the GREATEST RPG EVER, which is specifically addressing the whole free will vs. determinism issue in depth...), Ontology (The philsophy of the nature of existence), Phenomenonolgy (The philosophy of separating imagination from reality, or between "real" and "imagined" phenomena) and Metaphysics, (The philosophy of existence as a whole, of which Ontology and Phenomenonly are specific subsets), but it all ties in with the NAMING of the A.I.
More big words, coing up. First of all, let us consider the two big A.I.s that are prominently featured here, The Architect and The Oracle.
There is a particular offshoot of Christianity, known as Gnostic theology, that states that access to heaven can only be granted through intellectual understanding. IE, you have to FIGURE OUT heaven before you can get there. Gnostic theology is pretty out there, because they have a totally CRAZY interpretation of Christian events.
For one thing, according to the Gnostic theology, there is a God, and he is often referred to as THE ARCHITECT. For another thing, he has a WIFE, named Yse (Pronounced Issa) and between the two of them, they created the universe. The universe is essentially two areas, the Celestial Realm, which is perfect, static and immortal (Think the technological perfection of the machines) which was then divided when they created the Terrestrial Realm, which is imperfect and full of chaos, and it is where they sent the OTHER Gods and Goddesses to examine the imperfections and chaos at work there that they didn't know in the Celestrial Realm.
Now, if we make The Architect "God," and The Oracle "Yse", since it was the two of them that are primarily responsible for the creation of the Matrix, that makes the Agents the servants or "angels" acting in the service of the Gods. It gets more complicated, with various angels and Major/Minor, Lesser/Greater Gods and Goddesses, but eventually, one of the sons of God rebelled agains the system, and though he had divine powers, he worked to destroy the system and this is what we now know as Lucifer, though in this case, I'm thinking it's Agent Smith.
Another key point:
The French guy, the Merovingian, (Which is actually a Templar Knights offshoot of Gnostic Doctrine as well... Hm...) gets his name from a line of French Kings in Medieval France who were supposed to belong to an order of Knights (The Templar Knights) which were obsessed with protecting the Holy Grail, which is also sometimes known as A Key To Heaven.
Anyone seeing the connections yet?
Now, there's a lot of gobbledy gook, some of it historical, some of it pure speculation (Sorry, the only reason I even know this stuff is I specialized in Middle English literature in university, it's all pretty useless otherwise), but one of the legends surrounding the Merovingian dynasty of Kings is that they were actually Nephelim.
Xenosaga fans should be having a coniption right about now.
The NEPHELIM are another story from Gnostic and Biblical texts. Nephelim are the offspring of angels who came down to earth and bore children with human women, and so are half human half angel.
So it's a cute reference to the original Merovingian legend that an A.I. who calls himself the Merovingian chooses to speak with a French accent. But it's also relevant in that having chosen the name Merovingian, this A.I. acknowledges to those with the useless scholarly background, that he is in fact a descendant of angels (Governing programs created by the architect) who has been "cast out" into the world, the world of the Matrix being either the Terrestrial Realm, in one sense, or, in another, Hell.
You are all thinking at this point, WHAT?!?
PERSEPHONE, the other A.I., and de facto wife of the Merovingian. Her name says it all.
Time for Greek legend 101.
In Greek myth, one of the Great Mothers (Hm... Great Mother, Yse, Oracle... which is also Greek, hm...) Demeter, the Goddess of the harvest, got friendly with Zeus one day and had a daughter, a Goddess named Persephone, of unsurpassed beauty and grace. The Greek God/KING of the Underworld, Hades who never got along with Zeus (King of the Gods) saw Persephone and immediately fell in love with her. He kidnapped her and took her back to Hades and tried to convince her to stay with him forever and be his queen. Persephone refused, and kept refusing all manner of gifts and bribes, because she was told that to accept anything from the Underworld would mean being eternally condemned to live there. One day, she broke down and took a nibble from a pomegranete fruit, accidently swallowing one of its seeds, thus sealing her fate.
Demeter, meanwhile, had completely flipped out and was tearing the world up and down looking for her daughter. She even ignored her duties as Goddess of the Harvest and for the first time in history, a blanket of cold white stuff started falling down on the world, called snow. Eventually she found Persephone, but it was too late, as she'd already eaten the fruit, and couldn't leave Hades. The other Gods, worried about this state of affairs, cut a deal with Hades. Half of the year, Persephone would be allowed to walk with Earth, making Demeter happy. The other half, she would be queen of the Underworld, making Demeter depressed and bring snow, thus we have the seasons.
So there's a CLEAR connection between all these rampant A.I.s running around. The Merovingian is responsible for all the shady human/AI events in the Matrix, ie, he is King of the Underworld, with his wife Persephone, who is at odds with him. It wouldn't surprise me at all if there's a connection between Persephone and the Oracle, since they both have greek based names. The Merovingian held the Keymaker who creates all access within the Matrix, in the same way that the Merovingian Kings were supposed to guard the Grail. The Merovingian is also, according to legend, Nephilim, ie, a descendant of fallen angels, which fits with the story that he's an old A.I. ultimately rejected by the system which he helped to build, doubtless.
So what's the final tally?
I think there is a Real World and a Matrix world, but the politics behind it are complex and very much like hierarchy and intrigues of ancient biblical/non-Christian pantheons with scheming Gods and Goddesses, only instead of Heaven, Earth and Hell, we've got Machine existence, Matrix existence and the Real World. Gods and angels and demons are now A.I.s either still following protocol, or having gone Rampant, a term for rebellious A.I., and are plotting their own schemes.
Neo (Greek for new) is obviously a Christ figure in reference, and will probably die at the end of third film, 'cause you can't keep a Messiah around once his job is done.
Morpheus and the crew of the Nebucchadnezzar are probably loose references to apostles (We already had a "Judas" with Cypher in Matrix 1) though I doubt the Brothers Wachowski went all out in their referencing this bit of Christian theology.
Morpheus, in a brilliant double twist, (Morpheus in Greek mythology is the God of dreams) originally wakes Neo from his dream of the Matrix into reality. Then has his "dream" of freed humans shattered in turn by Neo who has rejected prophecy (Existentialism, you must make a choice, you must understand it) and thus the Dream God has his dream ruined by the saviour.
Trinity is still a bit problematic, because that's a clear reference to the Holy Trinity of God, Holy Spirit and Jesus. UNLESS you take the stand her name has been given because she represents human love (Holy Spirit) the intangible quality that causes Neo (Christ) to reject prophecy as defined by the Architect (God). In which case you have a loose, but still serviceable rationale for why she is there.
But basically, there's about a zillion references to Christian, Buddhist, Gnostic and Philosophical doctrines in the Matrix movies. Some are just nods, and others definitely mean something, but it would take a whole lotta' work (Or several years worth of pointless literary studies) to be able to dig through them all.
Call it cute, call it pretentious, but Matrix Reloaded is bloated with references that may either make you think this movie is incredibly deep, or give you the impression that the Brothers Wachowski wanted you to think it was incredibly deep. Of the references that I have been aware of, I took what I remembered of my Classics and English courses and put together this rant, originally posted on my magazine's forum, and now here for all of you to see. Either I am indeed the master of useless knowledge, or simply have no life, it's all a matter of perspective. But anyway, here's the rant:
The speculation has been flying fast and furious, but so far, the theory that makes the most sense to me is that machines are, in fact, caretakers.
A little explanation:
1) The Animatrix episodes, in particular, the Second Renaissance episodes are constantly hammering you over the head with idea that it was humanity, with its fear of all things different/better/faster/stronger/smarter than they are, who refused to accept 01, engaged in war with 01, and finally blackened the skies. At every turn, the Machines were pleading for coexistence, but humans refused to even discuss the possibility. Of course, there were a few people here and there that did fight for sentient rights, be it organic or silicon, but they were ruled out.
2) The Councillor drags Neo down to the engineering level and gives that big speech about the essentially symbiotic relationship of humans to machines.
3) The architect KNEW that Neo was going to reject The One protocol that he had been enabled to execute, and yet did nothing to stop it, claiming that even with human genocide, there were "levels of surival that were still acceptable." This would indicate that the machines have never (As many, MANY people have pointed out since the first film) really NEEDED the humans as a power source.
Perhaps then, they are merely using the pods as a way of safekeeping, with the added bonus a supplementary supply of power, then? After all, it would mean a way to keep billions of people pacified with little or no requirements outside of food and waste disposal. Then, when humanity has reached a stage where perhaps they can actually tolerate the idea of human/machine coexistence, 01 can finally pull the plug and let them all out again?
So it seems to me and a few others that where the Wachowskis are going (Which would probably be better than an outright, ID4 style, "YEAH! WE KILLED THE ENEMY! WHOO HOO!") would be an admission that humans and machines must learn to co-exist, or ELSE.
Perhaps that also explains the necessity of a "rat trap" solution in the form of The One protocol. As is made evident in Reloaded, there will always be a 1% of the general population that will reject the Matrix. Zion was/is designed to be a collection point for those 1% and keep them out of trouble since they can't hack into the Matrix from deep in, and keep them all gathered in one place, so they can't cause too much trouble unless they venture out in the hovercraft. When they get to be too much trouble, The One protocol is enabled, their numbers are reduced to manageable levels, and the "rat trap" begins collecting troublemakers again.
HOWEVER, in the event that humanity is now ready to accept coexistence with the machines, you need people who already KNOW what the state of the world is, and can act as leaders/transition points for the staggering leagues of humans that would find themselves unplugged and not living in 21st century Earth anymore, but post-apocalyptic, no-clear skies Earth. The Council and the Zion population in general then, would act as that key to orient the newly unplugged and bring them up to speed on the state of the Real World. Thus Zion has two functions, keeping the rebels in check while the Matrix is still a necessity, and acting as guides for humanity when it no longer isn't.
All this gets kind of complicated when you toss in the A.Is, but it still works out. The Matrix is essentially addressing four major philosophical themes, Existentialism (The philosophy of choice, also see Xenosaga, the GREATEST RPG EVER, which is specifically addressing the whole free will vs. determinism issue in depth...), Ontology (The philsophy of the nature of existence), Phenomenonolgy (The philosophy of separating imagination from reality, or between "real" and "imagined" phenomena) and Metaphysics, (The philosophy of existence as a whole, of which Ontology and Phenomenonly are specific subsets), but it all ties in with the NAMING of the A.I.
More big words, coing up. First of all, let us consider the two big A.I.s that are prominently featured here, The Architect and The Oracle.
There is a particular offshoot of Christianity, known as Gnostic theology, that states that access to heaven can only be granted through intellectual understanding. IE, you have to FIGURE OUT heaven before you can get there. Gnostic theology is pretty out there, because they have a totally CRAZY interpretation of Christian events.
For one thing, according to the Gnostic theology, there is a God, and he is often referred to as THE ARCHITECT. For another thing, he has a WIFE, named Yse (Pronounced Issa) and between the two of them, they created the universe. The universe is essentially two areas, the Celestial Realm, which is perfect, static and immortal (Think the technological perfection of the machines) which was then divided when they created the Terrestrial Realm, which is imperfect and full of chaos, and it is where they sent the OTHER Gods and Goddesses to examine the imperfections and chaos at work there that they didn't know in the Celestrial Realm.
Now, if we make The Architect "God," and The Oracle "Yse", since it was the two of them that are primarily responsible for the creation of the Matrix, that makes the Agents the servants or "angels" acting in the service of the Gods. It gets more complicated, with various angels and Major/Minor, Lesser/Greater Gods and Goddesses, but eventually, one of the sons of God rebelled agains the system, and though he had divine powers, he worked to destroy the system and this is what we now know as Lucifer, though in this case, I'm thinking it's Agent Smith.
Another key point:
The French guy, the Merovingian, (Which is actually a Templar Knights offshoot of Gnostic Doctrine as well... Hm...) gets his name from a line of French Kings in Medieval France who were supposed to belong to an order of Knights (The Templar Knights) which were obsessed with protecting the Holy Grail, which is also sometimes known as A Key To Heaven.
Anyone seeing the connections yet?
Now, there's a lot of gobbledy gook, some of it historical, some of it pure speculation (Sorry, the only reason I even know this stuff is I specialized in Middle English literature in university, it's all pretty useless otherwise), but one of the legends surrounding the Merovingian dynasty of Kings is that they were actually Nephelim.
Xenosaga fans should be having a coniption right about now.
The NEPHELIM are another story from Gnostic and Biblical texts. Nephelim are the offspring of angels who came down to earth and bore children with human women, and so are half human half angel.
So it's a cute reference to the original Merovingian legend that an A.I. who calls himself the Merovingian chooses to speak with a French accent. But it's also relevant in that having chosen the name Merovingian, this A.I. acknowledges to those with the useless scholarly background, that he is in fact a descendant of angels (Governing programs created by the architect) who has been "cast out" into the world, the world of the Matrix being either the Terrestrial Realm, in one sense, or, in another, Hell.
You are all thinking at this point, WHAT?!?
PERSEPHONE, the other A.I., and de facto wife of the Merovingian. Her name says it all.
Time for Greek legend 101.
In Greek myth, one of the Great Mothers (Hm... Great Mother, Yse, Oracle... which is also Greek, hm...) Demeter, the Goddess of the harvest, got friendly with Zeus one day and had a daughter, a Goddess named Persephone, of unsurpassed beauty and grace. The Greek God/KING of the Underworld, Hades who never got along with Zeus (King of the Gods) saw Persephone and immediately fell in love with her. He kidnapped her and took her back to Hades and tried to convince her to stay with him forever and be his queen. Persephone refused, and kept refusing all manner of gifts and bribes, because she was told that to accept anything from the Underworld would mean being eternally condemned to live there. One day, she broke down and took a nibble from a pomegranete fruit, accidently swallowing one of its seeds, thus sealing her fate.
Demeter, meanwhile, had completely flipped out and was tearing the world up and down looking for her daughter. She even ignored her duties as Goddess of the Harvest and for the first time in history, a blanket of cold white stuff started falling down on the world, called snow. Eventually she found Persephone, but it was too late, as she'd already eaten the fruit, and couldn't leave Hades. The other Gods, worried about this state of affairs, cut a deal with Hades. Half of the year, Persephone would be allowed to walk with Earth, making Demeter happy. The other half, she would be queen of the Underworld, making Demeter depressed and bring snow, thus we have the seasons.
So there's a CLEAR connection between all these rampant A.I.s running around. The Merovingian is responsible for all the shady human/AI events in the Matrix, ie, he is King of the Underworld, with his wife Persephone, who is at odds with him. It wouldn't surprise me at all if there's a connection between Persephone and the Oracle, since they both have greek based names. The Merovingian held the Keymaker who creates all access within the Matrix, in the same way that the Merovingian Kings were supposed to guard the Grail. The Merovingian is also, according to legend, Nephilim, ie, a descendant of fallen angels, which fits with the story that he's an old A.I. ultimately rejected by the system which he helped to build, doubtless.
So what's the final tally?
I think there is a Real World and a Matrix world, but the politics behind it are complex and very much like hierarchy and intrigues of ancient biblical/non-Christian pantheons with scheming Gods and Goddesses, only instead of Heaven, Earth and Hell, we've got Machine existence, Matrix existence and the Real World. Gods and angels and demons are now A.I.s either still following protocol, or having gone Rampant, a term for rebellious A.I., and are plotting their own schemes.
Neo (Greek for new) is obviously a Christ figure in reference, and will probably die at the end of third film, 'cause you can't keep a Messiah around once his job is done.
Morpheus and the crew of the Nebucchadnezzar are probably loose references to apostles (We already had a "Judas" with Cypher in Matrix 1) though I doubt the Brothers Wachowski went all out in their referencing this bit of Christian theology.
Morpheus, in a brilliant double twist, (Morpheus in Greek mythology is the God of dreams) originally wakes Neo from his dream of the Matrix into reality. Then has his "dream" of freed humans shattered in turn by Neo who has rejected prophecy (Existentialism, you must make a choice, you must understand it) and thus the Dream God has his dream ruined by the saviour.
Trinity is still a bit problematic, because that's a clear reference to the Holy Trinity of God, Holy Spirit and Jesus. UNLESS you take the stand her name has been given because she represents human love (Holy Spirit) the intangible quality that causes Neo (Christ) to reject prophecy as defined by the Architect (God). In which case you have a loose, but still serviceable rationale for why she is there.
But basically, there's about a zillion references to Christian, Buddhist, Gnostic and Philosophical doctrines in the Matrix movies. Some are just nods, and others definitely mean something, but it would take a whole lotta' work (Or several years worth of pointless literary studies) to be able to dig through them all.
Latest Breaking News
We just got another cat.
More news as it develops and Zero stops crying and pouting.
We just got another cat.
More news as it develops and Zero stops crying and pouting.
Labels: Them Crazy Kitties
Tuesday, May 20, 2003
Busy Week
Would you believe that I actually just spent the last several days in a straight writing frenzy?
Aside from the obvious geekitude of posting comments on the Playworks forums discussing the various intricacies of the Matrices, (And then talking with other people in real life and on various electronic platforms about it) there was also the ongoing research of the Cambodia documentary and, most pressing of all the, the sudden announcement that the next issue of Playworks itself was, come hell or highwater, going to be in the first week of June, making today the final deadline for all articles.
This after being told the day before that I was tapped for several articles and I was now the official letters page guy. So many rants were spun out, a couple of games were reviewed and one main feature was, I am sorry to report, completely fabricated as the company that is so desperately wanting to plug their game is also not releasing any copies, demo or otherwise, until it comes out in stores.
I feel especially bad about that.
But at last the whirl wind is over and I can get back to more pressing issues like:
1) I still owe the girlfriend a web comic, a three pager.
2) I still need to put the final touches on the Jen rewrite.
3) I have to start on my "Young Tolkien In Love" short story which, it has now been revealed to me by the muse, will invovle dwarves who have taken refuge in the USSR and are spouting Marxist doctrine at every opportunity.
4) Finish watching borrowed DVDs, the pile is manageably small now.
5) Finish reading Big Bill's Pattern Recognition as I think I need a reinjection of style into my prose. Though to be honest, I don't there's very much room for that kind of artful description in my next novel, since that's going to center itself largely around the idea that Vampires and Elves exist and have been at war with each other for quite some time.
By the way, I am thoroughly annoyed and dismayed that Underworld a picture starring Kate Beckinsale is almost ready for release as it more or less co-opts a similar idea, only with vampires and werewolves. Oh well...
To be fair the ideas aren't that similar, except for the vampires part. Bloodwood is, for all intents and purposes, me going insane and just trying to write something fun for once without all the angst and drama. It's supposed to be an "ensemble" novel where I concentrate on a, for me anyway, fairly large group of main characters and go back and forth between the Elves with their rapid fire crossbows and the Vampires with their modified guns to fire iron bullets. But that may be giving entirely too much and I doubt of it's any interest at the moment since I'm nowhere near famous and when you're Not Famous your ideas for future projects hold about as much public interest as the death of little Sally's goldfish. Film at 11.
Oh, watched Being John Malkovich again. By the seven moons of rimbor that's a freaky ass film, ain't it?
Would you believe that I actually just spent the last several days in a straight writing frenzy?
Aside from the obvious geekitude of posting comments on the Playworks forums discussing the various intricacies of the Matrices, (And then talking with other people in real life and on various electronic platforms about it) there was also the ongoing research of the Cambodia documentary and, most pressing of all the, the sudden announcement that the next issue of Playworks itself was, come hell or highwater, going to be in the first week of June, making today the final deadline for all articles.
This after being told the day before that I was tapped for several articles and I was now the official letters page guy. So many rants were spun out, a couple of games were reviewed and one main feature was, I am sorry to report, completely fabricated as the company that is so desperately wanting to plug their game is also not releasing any copies, demo or otherwise, until it comes out in stores.
I feel especially bad about that.
But at last the whirl wind is over and I can get back to more pressing issues like:
1) I still owe the girlfriend a web comic, a three pager.
2) I still need to put the final touches on the Jen rewrite.
3) I have to start on my "Young Tolkien In Love" short story which, it has now been revealed to me by the muse, will invovle dwarves who have taken refuge in the USSR and are spouting Marxist doctrine at every opportunity.
4) Finish watching borrowed DVDs, the pile is manageably small now.
5) Finish reading Big Bill's Pattern Recognition as I think I need a reinjection of style into my prose. Though to be honest, I don't there's very much room for that kind of artful description in my next novel, since that's going to center itself largely around the idea that Vampires and Elves exist and have been at war with each other for quite some time.
By the way, I am thoroughly annoyed and dismayed that Underworld a picture starring Kate Beckinsale is almost ready for release as it more or less co-opts a similar idea, only with vampires and werewolves. Oh well...
To be fair the ideas aren't that similar, except for the vampires part. Bloodwood is, for all intents and purposes, me going insane and just trying to write something fun for once without all the angst and drama. It's supposed to be an "ensemble" novel where I concentrate on a, for me anyway, fairly large group of main characters and go back and forth between the Elves with their rapid fire crossbows and the Vampires with their modified guns to fire iron bullets. But that may be giving entirely too much and I doubt of it's any interest at the moment since I'm nowhere near famous and when you're Not Famous your ideas for future projects hold about as much public interest as the death of little Sally's goldfish. Film at 11.
Oh, watched Being John Malkovich again. By the seven moons of rimbor that's a freaky ass film, ain't it?
Labels: Movies, My Life, Writing
Saturday, May 17, 2003
Now We Resume Our Regularly Scheduled Annoying Lunacy
It is, depending on how you look at it, either a very good time or very bad time to be a geek. It is good, because pop culture is so rich with material right now that your head would surely threaten to explode in pretty much the same way that the fat guy did during the restaurant sketch in Monty Python's The Meaning of Life.
It is bad because you have to be rich to enjoy this very richness, since it takes up so much fucking money.
But yes, after a Xenosaga inspired hiatus that involved much negligence of everything from the beloved girlfriend to even the kind of odor my own traiterous body was emitting after hours and hours (And HOURS!) of non-stop gaming, I have once again returned to earth to... whine. Or rhapsodize. Or whatever you call these random blurbings from someone who is clearly trying to say something despite not having anything particularly interesting to say right now, and SO, in a vain attempt to compensate for lack of anything bad (ie, interesting) to talk about, will just have to make do with what's currently got his knickers in a--in the strictly metaphorical sense, I assure you--twist.
I Am The Captain Of My Fate. And This Videogame...
Xenosaga: Der Wille Zur Machte Episode One pretty much lived up to the expectations of its title. Sturm und drang by the shovelful.
It has also, however, displaced the mighty Final Fantasy franchise as my all time favorite RPG EVER.
Perhaps it is essentially my science fiction geek/childhood background, but I've always had a soft spot for anything that involves settings in space and huge, "Holy muther a' GOD..." space fleet battles that leave one breathless with the sheer chaos, numbers and firepower involved. Xenosaga delivered on all counts, something that Final Fantasy, while still a favorite, has only ever done in frustratingly ingratiating nods to SF geeks with little SF elements sprinkled about here there while fireballs and other thaumaturgy flew willy nilly through the sorcerous air.
Ain't no such thing here, my little cosmic gals and pals, this game will leave you quivering in your space boots as you hear the merry ring of its laughter and feel the blast of its mighty electro-quarter staff. It's SF (Okay, crazy ass, ridiculously gargantuan in scale, anime based) goodness the whole way through. With Niezstche!
Yes, that whacky German philosopher that gave little Adolph so many good ideas, Nietzsche, is back if not in body, then in spirit as the major theme of the game (YES! IT HAS A THEME! HOW DEEP!) is the fact that life is lived largely as a matter of will, the "Will to power", which is the title of one of his works, as well as what that funky German in the title of the game says. This game, audacious enough to tackle a storyline that can only be adquately--and with no exaggeration--described as epic, takes on a grand Wagnerian scale that is so rife with conspiracy, mystery, mysticism and religious references at turns thought provoking and sacreligious kicks my ass into pure gaming bliss and somehow still manages to come off as annoyingly, obtusely intelligent in a way that makes me feel like I should have paid more attention during the my phiosophy course's look at gnosticism.
Oh, it's got way fucking cool space battles and mecha to boot.
This is not to say that it is a perfect game. Having taken two years to produce and another year to translate into English and redub, the graphics engine shows its age somewhat and definitely falters compared to the glitz-o-rama that is Final Fantasy X's graphical wonder. The game itself is somewhat short. Viewing all the cutscenes (And there are MANY. 12 hours worth) and beating all the mini-games and finishing side quests can still see completion of the game in about 40 hours, though I spent about 70 before I got to the game's end, still a full 10 hours short of the promised 80 hours on the back of the box.
But aside from those two niggling criticisms, the game outshines every single fucking RPG out there in so many other ways it's not even funny.
You want sound? How about music performed by none other than the London Philharmonic? And believe me, when the orchestra kicks in during the game, you really notice. Strings screeching through your ears and a choir haraunging in the background are just a few of the audio treats that await. You want backstory? The game is so packed with technical detail and back story that they've even included an ingame appendix, a la the Dune novels, to keep you up to date on the terminology and names and places within the game. You want character development? The Byzantine nuances and mysteries of each othe major characters is so intriguing--and, more infuriatingly--so teasingly hinted at without giving too much away, even at the game's end, that while you know these characters are far more than what they seem, the development they go through alone during just this first episode is enough to make you feel like you've read a novel. You want decent voice acting? Some of the most prominent voice actors of the dubbing industry for anime were hired for this game and for the most part, it's difficult to pick on their delivery, they do it justice. You want a combat system? This has one of the deepest and most strategic character level/combat techniques I've seen in years of RPG gaming that gives you an unprecedented amount of freedom both in character customization and what you can do on the battlefield. You want story?
YOU WANT STORY?
You'll wish you hadn't made that wish.
The first of a planned six episode epic that will only see conclusion on the Playstation 3, Xenosaga packs in just as much mystery as a full season of Babylon 5, and, like the fuckers who worked on that show, THEY REFUSE TO GIVE ANYTHING AWAY. Tantalizing glimpses of characters, conspiracies, monolithic secrets finally coming to light after decades (And in some cases, millenia) of hiding are shown... then taken away from you, with only teasing references or minor scenes to keep your curiosity burning bright. What the hell is the Zohar? Why was it discovered on 21st century Earth in Lake Turkana, arguably the cradle of humanity, and then suddenly being relevant to our story 4,000 years later? Why is Earth lost to all 4,000 years later and now referred to as Lost Jerusalem? Who are the Gnosis and why are they bent on wiping out humanity? What is the song of Nephilim? What is this U-Do thing that was so powerful the planet it was on has been sealed off from hyperspace access for 14 years? Why is there a 12 year old red headed boy who is actually years older than he appears that can pull off all kinds of crazy psychic shit and why does he have the number 666 tatooed on his right palm? If a giant space station was cast into a double black hole known as The Abyss, what's it doing running rampant through the galaxy again? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?
WHERE CAN I GET ONE OF THOSE KICK ASS GIANT ROBOTS AND DOES IT OPERATE ON 120 OR 240 VOLTS?!?
Argh. I'm morally obligated to get Episode II now just because of questions like this, and I'm sure not all of my questions will be answered there either.
I love this game to death. This is kind of SF RPG I've been waiting YEARS for and now I've finally played it. And want more. LOTS more. Fortunately I'll get it. Or at least Episode II anyway...
I Gotta' Write Gooder
Imagine a hypodermic needle.
It's a slick, shiny hypodermic needle, some casual sideline projected of a bored Bauhaus designer doing a favour for a medical student friend. The thing looks streamlined enough to fly under its own power, ailerons and stabilizers radiating style and cool emissions as it vectors in on its target, filled with its precious cargo, a bubbling, frenetic pool of liquid that resembles boiling mercury gone mad, percolating with a brownian eagerness within its chosen medium of delivery. This needle, this incredibly stylish hypodermic needle is ready to inject this ultimate variant on endorphin synthetics; pure, unadulterated cool ideas.
Today someone just stuck that needle in the back of my neck and injected it to the full, direcly into my hindbrain, setting off a neural reconfiguration so drastic and sudden that it can only be compared to the kind of ruthless purging that happens in a German multinational company.
Which is to say that I finally started reading Pattern Recognition by none other than my future Bestest Friend Ever, Big Bill himself.
I have only just begun, but I can safely say that from a pure technical viewpoint, this is probably Gibson at his best. The language shows such a richness, control and, surprisingly, restraint, that if anyone were to ever ask me how to be a better writer, I'd probably just throw this book at them and say, "Do that."
It's sort of making me itchy to finish my own damn book. But also kind of embarrassed. No, make that PLENTY embarrassed because my level of writing is nowhere near this. I feel like the little brother in a Disney movie watching his big brother make the winning touchdown, and holding onto his own junior size football helmet, watching his older brother being carried aloft in victory and saying in his winsome, child's voice, "Someday I'm gonna' do that. I'm gonna' be the goodest football player ever..."
Go Big Bill! Someday I'm gonna' do that! Maybe! But you need to be my friend first! PLEASE!
WHOAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And the last stop on our Pop Culture Rock Till You Suck Tour is, the inevitable viewing of Bill And Ted's Bodacious CyberWar, ie, Matrix: Reloaded.
Did it rock?
Fuck YEAH.
We came, we saw, we walked away monosyllabic, just like Kea-neo. In a fitting twist (The particular twist being largely enforced by me whining how it would be "sooooo coooool...") of cinematic irony, the only place to logically eat after watching the film was at the Hawker center on Zion Road, forever after referred to by me as Zion, The Last Free Hawker Center Of Man. It was here that the movie was obsessively dissected by all of us (Okay, more to the point, by ME with everyone else rolling their eyes or thinking, "Just shut the fuck up already...") and we came to the inescapable conclusion that I am a pompous and pretentious pseudo-intellectual ass.
Yes Nic, it's okay. We all think it. Hell, I know it. I have embraced and am one with my pompous pretentious pseudo-intellectual assness, so it's all good.
Man, I wish I had a forum going so I could debate this with all a youse... It's times like this I miss having other sci-fi/anime/comic book/video game/pseudo-intellectual/geeks to pointlessly orgasm over the inane minutae of each reference...
The only two complaints I have about the movie are:
1) The music was way too over the top and somehow (And this struck me as really weird) felt more like a movie trying to imitate a Matrix score than an actual Matrix score. If that made sense to ANYONE, then please explain to me, because I don't get it and I just wrote it.
2) Pure plot with little to no character development. Then again, it is the middle act.
Other than that...
WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE best car chase ever done. PERIOD.
THE best fight scenes ever done. PERIOD.
THE best post-apocalyptic design for the last free city of man (Yeah, I know, there's like, TONS of those, aren't there?). PERIOD.
THE most ridiculous, unapologetic and purely-for-eye-candy use of digital sets/actors for ULTRA FUCKING COOL effect. PERIOD.
THE most inane usage of cinema advertising ever. About PERIODS.
In the same way The Matrix was imitated a million bazillion times for its bullet time sequences, this and Revolutions a few months from now will also be similar sources of unapologetic ripping off. Assuming said rip-off artists can afford it since the effects cost of this movie would probably put a smile on the average Columbian Druglord's gold toothed mouth. It was almost pure, sensory overload. There was so much coolness happening at any given time I swear the temperature in the theater went down 20 degrees.
There were still attempts at throwing out half-assed introductions to existentialist, phenomenological, metaphysical and ontological concepts via the software metaphor, though they were sometimes much more overt, bang-you-over-the-head-with-soapbox-I-rant-from moments than what was (I am now forced to admit, in retrospect) the much more subtle delivery of the original. Hey, Brothers Wachowski, next time stick to effective summations of philosophical theory through image or snappy one-liners like you did in the first film. Dissertations should be shared amongst grad students, not 14 year old kids who will be discussing the depth of the story with about equal weight to "Did you see Trinity's knockers?!? WHOA!"
But, in the end...
WHO CARES?!?
THIS MOVIE KICKED HOLY ASS!
I wanted a ride and I got one, like a 16 year old cheerleader in the back of a 1950 DeSoto who's told she'll still be respected in the morning. I can get out there and sound just as annoying as any other person trying to sound smart, but in the end when you see a guy fightin' with a katana aboard an 18 wheeler careening down a freeway, it's time to throw out the book lernin' and just yee-haw the rasslin'... I ain't never seen fightin' like this, Pa! DANG! And I finally saw post Y2K mecha! FINALLY! I haven't seen any kind of mecha since the infamous power loader of 1986's Aliens, it's about fucking time someone else tried to do mecha in a live action film. God bless the Brothers Wachowski... I completely threw my critical faculties out the window during many moments of the film and simply thought, "Wow. Whoa. Whatever..."
It depresses me in a way, because there's a nostalgic part of me that wishes I were getting this feeling of uber-cool from George and not have to find it in people who are within spitting distance of my own generation like the Brothers Wachowski and good ol' Pete "Kiwi" Jackson. Once more I found myself in envy of those 14 year old kids in the audience who were in no way prepared for this experience and probably came out of the theatre with their lives and perceptions fundamentally altered before they go and play the videogame. I wish it were George. I really, really do. However, he has gone insane and so far, LOTR and the Matrix movies have both managed to score two out of two for supreme coolness, with both going head to head at the end of the year to see which loser looks more foolish in sub zero temperatures at the line for the theatre; the overweight idiot dressed in tight PVC clothing with trench coat and shades saying "Whoa..." or the skinny idiot swallowed up in his rusty armor, waving his plastic He-Man sword around while screaming "Elendil!"
You be the judge!
Anyway, duty calls. I have MANY articles to write up for Playworks, and I'm still finishing up on researching for a National Geographic documentary about demining Cambodian temples (Just got a reply from the Cambodian Ambassador to the United States! Who would'a thunk it!?!?) but all these will have to wait for another post.
It is, depending on how you look at it, either a very good time or very bad time to be a geek. It is good, because pop culture is so rich with material right now that your head would surely threaten to explode in pretty much the same way that the fat guy did during the restaurant sketch in Monty Python's The Meaning of Life.
It is bad because you have to be rich to enjoy this very richness, since it takes up so much fucking money.
But yes, after a Xenosaga inspired hiatus that involved much negligence of everything from the beloved girlfriend to even the kind of odor my own traiterous body was emitting after hours and hours (And HOURS!) of non-stop gaming, I have once again returned to earth to... whine. Or rhapsodize. Or whatever you call these random blurbings from someone who is clearly trying to say something despite not having anything particularly interesting to say right now, and SO, in a vain attempt to compensate for lack of anything bad (ie, interesting) to talk about, will just have to make do with what's currently got his knickers in a--in the strictly metaphorical sense, I assure you--twist.
I Am The Captain Of My Fate. And This Videogame...
Xenosaga: Der Wille Zur Machte Episode One pretty much lived up to the expectations of its title. Sturm und drang by the shovelful.
It has also, however, displaced the mighty Final Fantasy franchise as my all time favorite RPG EVER.
Perhaps it is essentially my science fiction geek/childhood background, but I've always had a soft spot for anything that involves settings in space and huge, "Holy muther a' GOD..." space fleet battles that leave one breathless with the sheer chaos, numbers and firepower involved. Xenosaga delivered on all counts, something that Final Fantasy, while still a favorite, has only ever done in frustratingly ingratiating nods to SF geeks with little SF elements sprinkled about here there while fireballs and other thaumaturgy flew willy nilly through the sorcerous air.
Ain't no such thing here, my little cosmic gals and pals, this game will leave you quivering in your space boots as you hear the merry ring of its laughter and feel the blast of its mighty electro-quarter staff. It's SF (Okay, crazy ass, ridiculously gargantuan in scale, anime based) goodness the whole way through. With Niezstche!
Yes, that whacky German philosopher that gave little Adolph so many good ideas, Nietzsche, is back if not in body, then in spirit as the major theme of the game (YES! IT HAS A THEME! HOW DEEP!) is the fact that life is lived largely as a matter of will, the "Will to power", which is the title of one of his works, as well as what that funky German in the title of the game says. This game, audacious enough to tackle a storyline that can only be adquately--and with no exaggeration--described as epic, takes on a grand Wagnerian scale that is so rife with conspiracy, mystery, mysticism and religious references at turns thought provoking and sacreligious kicks my ass into pure gaming bliss and somehow still manages to come off as annoyingly, obtusely intelligent in a way that makes me feel like I should have paid more attention during the my phiosophy course's look at gnosticism.
Oh, it's got way fucking cool space battles and mecha to boot.
This is not to say that it is a perfect game. Having taken two years to produce and another year to translate into English and redub, the graphics engine shows its age somewhat and definitely falters compared to the glitz-o-rama that is Final Fantasy X's graphical wonder. The game itself is somewhat short. Viewing all the cutscenes (And there are MANY. 12 hours worth) and beating all the mini-games and finishing side quests can still see completion of the game in about 40 hours, though I spent about 70 before I got to the game's end, still a full 10 hours short of the promised 80 hours on the back of the box.
But aside from those two niggling criticisms, the game outshines every single fucking RPG out there in so many other ways it's not even funny.
You want sound? How about music performed by none other than the London Philharmonic? And believe me, when the orchestra kicks in during the game, you really notice. Strings screeching through your ears and a choir haraunging in the background are just a few of the audio treats that await. You want backstory? The game is so packed with technical detail and back story that they've even included an ingame appendix, a la the Dune novels, to keep you up to date on the terminology and names and places within the game. You want character development? The Byzantine nuances and mysteries of each othe major characters is so intriguing--and, more infuriatingly--so teasingly hinted at without giving too much away, even at the game's end, that while you know these characters are far more than what they seem, the development they go through alone during just this first episode is enough to make you feel like you've read a novel. You want decent voice acting? Some of the most prominent voice actors of the dubbing industry for anime were hired for this game and for the most part, it's difficult to pick on their delivery, they do it justice. You want a combat system? This has one of the deepest and most strategic character level/combat techniques I've seen in years of RPG gaming that gives you an unprecedented amount of freedom both in character customization and what you can do on the battlefield. You want story?
YOU WANT STORY?
You'll wish you hadn't made that wish.
The first of a planned six episode epic that will only see conclusion on the Playstation 3, Xenosaga packs in just as much mystery as a full season of Babylon 5, and, like the fuckers who worked on that show, THEY REFUSE TO GIVE ANYTHING AWAY. Tantalizing glimpses of characters, conspiracies, monolithic secrets finally coming to light after decades (And in some cases, millenia) of hiding are shown... then taken away from you, with only teasing references or minor scenes to keep your curiosity burning bright. What the hell is the Zohar? Why was it discovered on 21st century Earth in Lake Turkana, arguably the cradle of humanity, and then suddenly being relevant to our story 4,000 years later? Why is Earth lost to all 4,000 years later and now referred to as Lost Jerusalem? Who are the Gnosis and why are they bent on wiping out humanity? What is the song of Nephilim? What is this U-Do thing that was so powerful the planet it was on has been sealed off from hyperspace access for 14 years? Why is there a 12 year old red headed boy who is actually years older than he appears that can pull off all kinds of crazy psychic shit and why does he have the number 666 tatooed on his right palm? If a giant space station was cast into a double black hole known as The Abyss, what's it doing running rampant through the galaxy again? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?
WHERE CAN I GET ONE OF THOSE KICK ASS GIANT ROBOTS AND DOES IT OPERATE ON 120 OR 240 VOLTS?!?
Argh. I'm morally obligated to get Episode II now just because of questions like this, and I'm sure not all of my questions will be answered there either.
I love this game to death. This is kind of SF RPG I've been waiting YEARS for and now I've finally played it. And want more. LOTS more. Fortunately I'll get it. Or at least Episode II anyway...
I Gotta' Write Gooder
Imagine a hypodermic needle.
It's a slick, shiny hypodermic needle, some casual sideline projected of a bored Bauhaus designer doing a favour for a medical student friend. The thing looks streamlined enough to fly under its own power, ailerons and stabilizers radiating style and cool emissions as it vectors in on its target, filled with its precious cargo, a bubbling, frenetic pool of liquid that resembles boiling mercury gone mad, percolating with a brownian eagerness within its chosen medium of delivery. This needle, this incredibly stylish hypodermic needle is ready to inject this ultimate variant on endorphin synthetics; pure, unadulterated cool ideas.
Today someone just stuck that needle in the back of my neck and injected it to the full, direcly into my hindbrain, setting off a neural reconfiguration so drastic and sudden that it can only be compared to the kind of ruthless purging that happens in a German multinational company.
Which is to say that I finally started reading Pattern Recognition by none other than my future Bestest Friend Ever, Big Bill himself.
I have only just begun, but I can safely say that from a pure technical viewpoint, this is probably Gibson at his best. The language shows such a richness, control and, surprisingly, restraint, that if anyone were to ever ask me how to be a better writer, I'd probably just throw this book at them and say, "Do that."
It's sort of making me itchy to finish my own damn book. But also kind of embarrassed. No, make that PLENTY embarrassed because my level of writing is nowhere near this. I feel like the little brother in a Disney movie watching his big brother make the winning touchdown, and holding onto his own junior size football helmet, watching his older brother being carried aloft in victory and saying in his winsome, child's voice, "Someday I'm gonna' do that. I'm gonna' be the goodest football player ever..."
Go Big Bill! Someday I'm gonna' do that! Maybe! But you need to be my friend first! PLEASE!
WHOAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And the last stop on our Pop Culture Rock Till You Suck Tour is, the inevitable viewing of Bill And Ted's Bodacious CyberWar, ie, Matrix: Reloaded.
Did it rock?
Fuck YEAH.
We came, we saw, we walked away monosyllabic, just like Kea-neo. In a fitting twist (The particular twist being largely enforced by me whining how it would be "sooooo coooool...") of cinematic irony, the only place to logically eat after watching the film was at the Hawker center on Zion Road, forever after referred to by me as Zion, The Last Free Hawker Center Of Man. It was here that the movie was obsessively dissected by all of us (Okay, more to the point, by ME with everyone else rolling their eyes or thinking, "Just shut the fuck up already...") and we came to the inescapable conclusion that I am a pompous and pretentious pseudo-intellectual ass.
Yes Nic, it's okay. We all think it. Hell, I know it. I have embraced and am one with my pompous pretentious pseudo-intellectual assness, so it's all good.
Man, I wish I had a forum going so I could debate this with all a youse... It's times like this I miss having other sci-fi/anime/comic book/video game/pseudo-intellectual/geeks to pointlessly orgasm over the inane minutae of each reference...
The only two complaints I have about the movie are:
1) The music was way too over the top and somehow (And this struck me as really weird) felt more like a movie trying to imitate a Matrix score than an actual Matrix score. If that made sense to ANYONE, then please explain to me, because I don't get it and I just wrote it.
2) Pure plot with little to no character development. Then again, it is the middle act.
Other than that...
WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE best car chase ever done. PERIOD.
THE best fight scenes ever done. PERIOD.
THE best post-apocalyptic design for the last free city of man (Yeah, I know, there's like, TONS of those, aren't there?). PERIOD.
THE most ridiculous, unapologetic and purely-for-eye-candy use of digital sets/actors for ULTRA FUCKING COOL effect. PERIOD.
THE most inane usage of cinema advertising ever. About PERIODS.
In the same way The Matrix was imitated a million bazillion times for its bullet time sequences, this and Revolutions a few months from now will also be similar sources of unapologetic ripping off. Assuming said rip-off artists can afford it since the effects cost of this movie would probably put a smile on the average Columbian Druglord's gold toothed mouth. It was almost pure, sensory overload. There was so much coolness happening at any given time I swear the temperature in the theater went down 20 degrees.
There were still attempts at throwing out half-assed introductions to existentialist, phenomenological, metaphysical and ontological concepts via the software metaphor, though they were sometimes much more overt, bang-you-over-the-head-with-soapbox-I-rant-from moments than what was (I am now forced to admit, in retrospect) the much more subtle delivery of the original. Hey, Brothers Wachowski, next time stick to effective summations of philosophical theory through image or snappy one-liners like you did in the first film. Dissertations should be shared amongst grad students, not 14 year old kids who will be discussing the depth of the story with about equal weight to "Did you see Trinity's knockers?!? WHOA!"
But, in the end...
WHO CARES?!?
THIS MOVIE KICKED HOLY ASS!
I wanted a ride and I got one, like a 16 year old cheerleader in the back of a 1950 DeSoto who's told she'll still be respected in the morning. I can get out there and sound just as annoying as any other person trying to sound smart, but in the end when you see a guy fightin' with a katana aboard an 18 wheeler careening down a freeway, it's time to throw out the book lernin' and just yee-haw the rasslin'... I ain't never seen fightin' like this, Pa! DANG! And I finally saw post Y2K mecha! FINALLY! I haven't seen any kind of mecha since the infamous power loader of 1986's Aliens, it's about fucking time someone else tried to do mecha in a live action film. God bless the Brothers Wachowski... I completely threw my critical faculties out the window during many moments of the film and simply thought, "Wow. Whoa. Whatever..."
It depresses me in a way, because there's a nostalgic part of me that wishes I were getting this feeling of uber-cool from George and not have to find it in people who are within spitting distance of my own generation like the Brothers Wachowski and good ol' Pete "Kiwi" Jackson. Once more I found myself in envy of those 14 year old kids in the audience who were in no way prepared for this experience and probably came out of the theatre with their lives and perceptions fundamentally altered before they go and play the videogame. I wish it were George. I really, really do. However, he has gone insane and so far, LOTR and the Matrix movies have both managed to score two out of two for supreme coolness, with both going head to head at the end of the year to see which loser looks more foolish in sub zero temperatures at the line for the theatre; the overweight idiot dressed in tight PVC clothing with trench coat and shades saying "Whoa..." or the skinny idiot swallowed up in his rusty armor, waving his plastic He-Man sword around while screaming "Elendil!"
You be the judge!
Anyway, duty calls. I have MANY articles to write up for Playworks, and I'm still finishing up on researching for a National Geographic documentary about demining Cambodian temples (Just got a reply from the Cambodian Ambassador to the United States! Who would'a thunk it!?!?) but all these will have to wait for another post.
Sunday, May 04, 2003
Out Of Commission
Let it be known that the Girlfriend has seen fit to bestow me with a birthday present, Xenosaga, the epic science fiction RPG that I had been unsuccessfully trying to play for the last couple of months, early.
Let it be made patently obvious that as a result of receiving this Gift From The Gods, it should be pretty fucking easy to deduce that you will not be hearing from me for the next two weeks.
Next time on the Shoeless Chronicles: Good games and Matrix: Reloaded. Or: Whoa and Whoa...
Let it be known that the Girlfriend has seen fit to bestow me with a birthday present, Xenosaga, the epic science fiction RPG that I had been unsuccessfully trying to play for the last couple of months, early.
Let it be made patently obvious that as a result of receiving this Gift From The Gods, it should be pretty fucking easy to deduce that you will not be hearing from me for the next two weeks.
Next time on the Shoeless Chronicles: Good games and Matrix: Reloaded. Or: Whoa and Whoa...
Friday, May 02, 2003
I'm A Mutant, He's A Mutant, They're All Mutants, She's A Mutant, Wouldn't You Like To Be A Mutant Too?!?
Or:
Excelsior!
[Please note: No clever usage of the letter "X" will appear whatsoever throughout the course of this rant]
And anyone who doesn't understand that didn't read Marvel comics on a regular basis, for the better half of their childhood. Or maybe only read the comic itself and none of the ancillary stuff like Fightin' Stan Lee throwing out another diatribe from the depths of the Marvel Bullpen.
Today's rant is the inevitable opinion on the first salvo in the summer geek war, X2: X-Men United. Otherwise known as double the mutants, double the fun, double x, double x, mutant bubble gum. Or something to that effect...
[Please note: Clever usage of letter "X" still absent as promised]
Now, I've been following the chronicles of the X-Men since I was in the single digit age range. I've even been reviewing the trade paperback compilations of their adventures very recently. My classic take on the X-Men will always be the amazing Claremont/Byrne run of the 80's with the still unsurpassed for pure tragic heroism Dark Phoenix saga. On the glitzier side, the mid 90's run of the X-Men with Claremont still writing and Jim Lee pencilling his ludicrously detailed tech and Unbelievably Hot Ass Chicks (tm) is still forever embedded in my mind, if only because Claremont and Lee took ultra-lame Betsy Braddock (ie, "Psylocke") and turned her into the single hottest (And let's be realistic, ONLY) psychic ninja on the block. Psylocke can stick me with that psychic knife ("The totality of my psychic abilities!" as she said, EVERY. FUCKING. TIME that she used it...) any day of the week. Twice on Sundays.
But I digress.
[What's Missing? Oh, I know, the annoying usage of the letter "X" in a badly conceived pun!]
There's stll no psychic ninja goodness to be found in Bryan Singer's latest installment of everyone's favorite angst-ridden team of mutants, but all the hysteria and subtlety (In this case, subtlety is defined as anything from a slight hint to being run over by a Mac Truck 12 times while Mariah Carey sings the end song of Glitter) of their alienation/prejudice themes are in full swing.
The movie makes the relatively safe bet that viewers are either A) familiar with the X-Men titles (Now available in regular chocolate/vanilla/strawberry flavors and new "Ultimate" flavors for "reimagining" enthusiasts!) or B) watched the first film. Anyone who somehow escaped from Vietnam after all these years and is only now coming to grips with the internet and Japanese companies owning American ones will be sorely confused by this film as it refuses to bring new inductees up to speed on where things are going, and assumes some kind of foreknowledge of the franchise. Like the hotly anticipated (And for my money, only reason to live anymore) sequel to Lord Of The Rings, you don't get any "Previously on the X-Men" to ease you in. Singer knows that we want to get into the meat of the picture and he throws a bucket of gravy at us right from the start to sweeten the deal.
[Wow! I can't find any annoying X-Puns anywhere! What a refreshing change!]
There are quite a few parallels between Lord Of The Rings and what Singer seems to be attempting with the X-Men cinematic franchise. Not the least of which is attempting to chronicle the coming of a great war, except whereas LOTR is high fantasy about the alliance of men, elves, dwarves and others against the forces of Sauron and Saruman, the X-Men are all about the coming war between Homo Sapiens and what some mutants have christened "Homo Superior" and whether or not coexistence, conquest or annihilation is the answer. Like LOTR, a conflict of sorts had to be created to resolve the first installment and give the audience some sense of closure and forward movement, but let's not kid ourselves, Fellowship was an exercise in set-up, though it did it beautifully, whereas the X-Men was merely fun and, at best, Pretty Good. The remaining stories (I refer to them as stories rather than films/books, since it's just more convenient that way) are the true meat of the series where all the scope, scale and epic majesty of the tales really comes into play. The X-Men seem to be going the same route, with the next gear being switched up for this sequel and a grander scale of things. Now that the stage is set, now that we understand Xavier, the school, his ethos, and now that we understand Magneto, his brotherhood and his ethos, and now that we understand that humans are essentially American and heart and out to completely eradicate anything with the slightest deviation from American (Ie, "Real Americans don't shoot lasers out of their eyes, even if it is to save American children... they must be terrorists, let's smoke 'em..."), we are now ready to tackle whatever it is that Singer has in store, or, to be more precise, which of the storyline(s), a wealth of which are available to him since the X-Men has been running since the 60's, he plans to adapt to the screen. The war is coming, and it looks like Singer means to film a piece of the action.
[Maybe the annoying "X"-Pun is here under the couch. No? I'll be damned, it's just NOT HERE!]
All the Old Guard is back, and, as expected, Cyclops fares least well of all, once again seeming quite ineffective in terms of characterization compared to the others. Storm does much better this time around, but I suspect that that's because when you have an Oscar winning performer on your hands, you don't just look odd anymore giving her dumb lines, you look pretty darn stupid.
Most puzzling of all for me however is the almost mathematical inversion of Wolverine's characterization. In the first film he was all attitude and supreme bad assness as he walked around and scowled at everyone, being a mean hombre who hinted that he was the best there is at what he does and what he does isn't very nice. However, when crunch time came, he usually ended up getting kicked around, or, more disappointingly, striking a cool pose once in while, but being essentially underwhelming in the fight sequences. Now in X-2, we see a Wolverine who is essentially a wuss trying to act like a tough guy, and then the fighting starts and he begins to kick so many different kinds of holy ass that I swear to God the apostles are all moaning in agony in heaven. Now he SHOWS us why he's the best there is at what he does, and it really, REALLY isn't very nice, but fuck is it ever cool... How can someone who behaves so lame be such a lethal killer? And how in the first movie could someone who seemed so intimidating be so useless in a fight? What happened Bryan? Better yet, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FIND THE BALANCE?!?
Cinematography is slick and functional and looks good, yet still somehow leaves me cold. My opinion that The Crow is still the best comic book to film ever made still stands. Alex Proyas is The Man, and Singer could still afford to take a few notes from him on how to compose and light a set. Or Fincher for that matter, since Fincher is more productive than Proyas at the moment and his cinematography never fails to stun and amaze. From a performance perspective, there's NOTHING bad about the performances (One particular Cyclops bit of dialogue towards the end excepting, that scored high on the Cringe-o-meter...), and yet, there's nothing really GREAT either. Again, I remember Brandon Lee's anguished and vengeful performance in The Crow, and find this wanting in comparison. True, it's not supposed to be a dark, brooding meditation on love, death and vengeance, but there is passion and emotion here, and while it hits the mark, it never exceeds it. From an effects point of view, there's little to complain about. It's a big budget film and every dollar shows up on the screen. There's not a single lousy effects shot in the entire film, it's all breathtakingly cool and high on multiple "Wow" factor, though purists may balk at Nightcrawler's teleportation no longer being a smokey, brimstone-y cloud followed by the signature "BAMF!" that was the air rushing in to fill the space he no longer occupied. Instead an almost ethereal, misty/ghosty effect is supplied that makes you think of an accelerated acid trippy trails effect, but on a higher budget.
[Boy, I sure don't miss those lame attempts at cleverness through pointless letter "X" usage...]
For the comic geeks, there are plenty of winks and nods, from a quick shot of good ol' Beastie (Pre-blue furry form) to the liberal cameos of other Mutie Scum goodness in the ranks of Xavier's school. Once again, purists who balk at even the slightest deviation from their comic with no understanding whatsoever of the logistics of scripting, pacing, or even what is actually physically possible in real life will always find something to be mad about here, but for the more reasonable of us who understand the constraints and freedoms of film making, we let it slide, 'cause hey, it's a movie, not a comic book. Changes MUST be made. And for the most part, the spirit of the comic book prevails. I strongly emphasize at this point that the X-Men has ALWAYS been about prejudice and thinly disguised metaphors for hatred of any kind be it racial, sexual or religious and that this film is not capitalizing on the 9-11 mood or subsequent response of America to things not Christian. These themes have ALWAYS been in the comic books and are about as timely and current event-y as birth or death. This isn't social commentary about current events. Get over it and stop making assumptions...
[Dear Diary: I read a blog entry about the X-Men with no stupid X-Puns! It was GREAT!]
This was a very good movie. I don't think it's the greatest comic to film translation ever done, and I still find many problems with it (Since my personal prejudice is characterization, ensemble pictures are always problematic for me, as, understandably, character development must suffer for the greater good...) It's a popcorn film in the best sense of the word that manages to inject some useful ideas/themes about people, Other People and why they hate each other. I'll dutifully buy the DVD, and I'll watch it once in a while, but it comes nowhere near entering my personal pantheon of Oh My God I Love This Movie, and I'll probably look back on it with foggy but benevolent reminiscence when it's all said and done. But it's loud, brash and fun, and a good start to a summer that is ridiculously crammed with high profile films. I feel that it was a bad idea to stick in the Matrix trailer before this movie as I kept watching these action sequences and wishing I were already watching the Brothers Wachoski's latest spectacle, but all in good time. You won't be disappointed but you wont' have your life or your conceptions of film making changed either. That's still up to Tolkien and the Brothers Wachowski. Or it is for me, anyway...
In short, it's an x-cellent x-travaganza full of x-citement and x-cessiveness that's well worth your $X dollars!
[AGH! I WAS SO CLOSE...]
Or:
Excelsior!
[Please note: No clever usage of the letter "X" will appear whatsoever throughout the course of this rant]
And anyone who doesn't understand that didn't read Marvel comics on a regular basis, for the better half of their childhood. Or maybe only read the comic itself and none of the ancillary stuff like Fightin' Stan Lee throwing out another diatribe from the depths of the Marvel Bullpen.
Today's rant is the inevitable opinion on the first salvo in the summer geek war, X2: X-Men United. Otherwise known as double the mutants, double the fun, double x, double x, mutant bubble gum. Or something to that effect...
[Please note: Clever usage of letter "X" still absent as promised]
Now, I've been following the chronicles of the X-Men since I was in the single digit age range. I've even been reviewing the trade paperback compilations of their adventures very recently. My classic take on the X-Men will always be the amazing Claremont/Byrne run of the 80's with the still unsurpassed for pure tragic heroism Dark Phoenix saga. On the glitzier side, the mid 90's run of the X-Men with Claremont still writing and Jim Lee pencilling his ludicrously detailed tech and Unbelievably Hot Ass Chicks (tm) is still forever embedded in my mind, if only because Claremont and Lee took ultra-lame Betsy Braddock (ie, "Psylocke") and turned her into the single hottest (And let's be realistic, ONLY) psychic ninja on the block. Psylocke can stick me with that psychic knife ("The totality of my psychic abilities!" as she said, EVERY. FUCKING. TIME that she used it...) any day of the week. Twice on Sundays.
But I digress.
[What's Missing? Oh, I know, the annoying usage of the letter "X" in a badly conceived pun!]
There's stll no psychic ninja goodness to be found in Bryan Singer's latest installment of everyone's favorite angst-ridden team of mutants, but all the hysteria and subtlety (In this case, subtlety is defined as anything from a slight hint to being run over by a Mac Truck 12 times while Mariah Carey sings the end song of Glitter) of their alienation/prejudice themes are in full swing.
The movie makes the relatively safe bet that viewers are either A) familiar with the X-Men titles (Now available in regular chocolate/vanilla/strawberry flavors and new "Ultimate" flavors for "reimagining" enthusiasts!) or B) watched the first film. Anyone who somehow escaped from Vietnam after all these years and is only now coming to grips with the internet and Japanese companies owning American ones will be sorely confused by this film as it refuses to bring new inductees up to speed on where things are going, and assumes some kind of foreknowledge of the franchise. Like the hotly anticipated (And for my money, only reason to live anymore) sequel to Lord Of The Rings, you don't get any "Previously on the X-Men" to ease you in. Singer knows that we want to get into the meat of the picture and he throws a bucket of gravy at us right from the start to sweeten the deal.
[Wow! I can't find any annoying X-Puns anywhere! What a refreshing change!]
There are quite a few parallels between Lord Of The Rings and what Singer seems to be attempting with the X-Men cinematic franchise. Not the least of which is attempting to chronicle the coming of a great war, except whereas LOTR is high fantasy about the alliance of men, elves, dwarves and others against the forces of Sauron and Saruman, the X-Men are all about the coming war between Homo Sapiens and what some mutants have christened "Homo Superior" and whether or not coexistence, conquest or annihilation is the answer. Like LOTR, a conflict of sorts had to be created to resolve the first installment and give the audience some sense of closure and forward movement, but let's not kid ourselves, Fellowship was an exercise in set-up, though it did it beautifully, whereas the X-Men was merely fun and, at best, Pretty Good. The remaining stories (I refer to them as stories rather than films/books, since it's just more convenient that way) are the true meat of the series where all the scope, scale and epic majesty of the tales really comes into play. The X-Men seem to be going the same route, with the next gear being switched up for this sequel and a grander scale of things. Now that the stage is set, now that we understand Xavier, the school, his ethos, and now that we understand Magneto, his brotherhood and his ethos, and now that we understand that humans are essentially American and heart and out to completely eradicate anything with the slightest deviation from American (Ie, "Real Americans don't shoot lasers out of their eyes, even if it is to save American children... they must be terrorists, let's smoke 'em..."), we are now ready to tackle whatever it is that Singer has in store, or, to be more precise, which of the storyline(s), a wealth of which are available to him since the X-Men has been running since the 60's, he plans to adapt to the screen. The war is coming, and it looks like Singer means to film a piece of the action.
[Maybe the annoying "X"-Pun is here under the couch. No? I'll be damned, it's just NOT HERE!]
All the Old Guard is back, and, as expected, Cyclops fares least well of all, once again seeming quite ineffective in terms of characterization compared to the others. Storm does much better this time around, but I suspect that that's because when you have an Oscar winning performer on your hands, you don't just look odd anymore giving her dumb lines, you look pretty darn stupid.
Most puzzling of all for me however is the almost mathematical inversion of Wolverine's characterization. In the first film he was all attitude and supreme bad assness as he walked around and scowled at everyone, being a mean hombre who hinted that he was the best there is at what he does and what he does isn't very nice. However, when crunch time came, he usually ended up getting kicked around, or, more disappointingly, striking a cool pose once in while, but being essentially underwhelming in the fight sequences. Now in X-2, we see a Wolverine who is essentially a wuss trying to act like a tough guy, and then the fighting starts and he begins to kick so many different kinds of holy ass that I swear to God the apostles are all moaning in agony in heaven. Now he SHOWS us why he's the best there is at what he does, and it really, REALLY isn't very nice, but fuck is it ever cool... How can someone who behaves so lame be such a lethal killer? And how in the first movie could someone who seemed so intimidating be so useless in a fight? What happened Bryan? Better yet, WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FIND THE BALANCE?!?
Cinematography is slick and functional and looks good, yet still somehow leaves me cold. My opinion that The Crow is still the best comic book to film ever made still stands. Alex Proyas is The Man, and Singer could still afford to take a few notes from him on how to compose and light a set. Or Fincher for that matter, since Fincher is more productive than Proyas at the moment and his cinematography never fails to stun and amaze. From a performance perspective, there's NOTHING bad about the performances (One particular Cyclops bit of dialogue towards the end excepting, that scored high on the Cringe-o-meter...), and yet, there's nothing really GREAT either. Again, I remember Brandon Lee's anguished and vengeful performance in The Crow, and find this wanting in comparison. True, it's not supposed to be a dark, brooding meditation on love, death and vengeance, but there is passion and emotion here, and while it hits the mark, it never exceeds it. From an effects point of view, there's little to complain about. It's a big budget film and every dollar shows up on the screen. There's not a single lousy effects shot in the entire film, it's all breathtakingly cool and high on multiple "Wow" factor, though purists may balk at Nightcrawler's teleportation no longer being a smokey, brimstone-y cloud followed by the signature "BAMF!" that was the air rushing in to fill the space he no longer occupied. Instead an almost ethereal, misty/ghosty effect is supplied that makes you think of an accelerated acid trippy trails effect, but on a higher budget.
[Boy, I sure don't miss those lame attempts at cleverness through pointless letter "X" usage...]
For the comic geeks, there are plenty of winks and nods, from a quick shot of good ol' Beastie (Pre-blue furry form) to the liberal cameos of other Mutie Scum goodness in the ranks of Xavier's school. Once again, purists who balk at even the slightest deviation from their comic with no understanding whatsoever of the logistics of scripting, pacing, or even what is actually physically possible in real life will always find something to be mad about here, but for the more reasonable of us who understand the constraints and freedoms of film making, we let it slide, 'cause hey, it's a movie, not a comic book. Changes MUST be made. And for the most part, the spirit of the comic book prevails. I strongly emphasize at this point that the X-Men has ALWAYS been about prejudice and thinly disguised metaphors for hatred of any kind be it racial, sexual or religious and that this film is not capitalizing on the 9-11 mood or subsequent response of America to things not Christian. These themes have ALWAYS been in the comic books and are about as timely and current event-y as birth or death. This isn't social commentary about current events. Get over it and stop making assumptions...
[Dear Diary: I read a blog entry about the X-Men with no stupid X-Puns! It was GREAT!]
This was a very good movie. I don't think it's the greatest comic to film translation ever done, and I still find many problems with it (Since my personal prejudice is characterization, ensemble pictures are always problematic for me, as, understandably, character development must suffer for the greater good...) It's a popcorn film in the best sense of the word that manages to inject some useful ideas/themes about people, Other People and why they hate each other. I'll dutifully buy the DVD, and I'll watch it once in a while, but it comes nowhere near entering my personal pantheon of Oh My God I Love This Movie, and I'll probably look back on it with foggy but benevolent reminiscence when it's all said and done. But it's loud, brash and fun, and a good start to a summer that is ridiculously crammed with high profile films. I feel that it was a bad idea to stick in the Matrix trailer before this movie as I kept watching these action sequences and wishing I were already watching the Brothers Wachoski's latest spectacle, but all in good time. You won't be disappointed but you wont' have your life or your conceptions of film making changed either. That's still up to Tolkien and the Brothers Wachowski. Or it is for me, anyway...
In short, it's an x-cellent x-travaganza full of x-citement and x-cessiveness that's well worth your $X dollars!
[AGH! I WAS SO CLOSE...]
Labels: Movies
Thursday, May 01, 2003
I Used To Be Deep
I got a major attack of the guilties earlier after finding a blog called Anne... Straight From The Hip. Anne is a deep n' profound woman. Her blog entries are full of insight and emotion and thoughtfulness and little moments of wisdom culled from every day or not so every day events, but after reading these entries, you get the idea that this is a very passionate and thinking woman who you wouldn't mind having around as a good friend to just unload, bitch or shoot the breeze with.
I have of late noticed that my always smarmy, always smart alecky posts are usually full of snappy one-liners and imagined dialogue, and are largely reviews of movies, games and comics. Part of this, I tell myself, is because I have nothing really dramatic happening in my life and so these little moments of Enlightened Opinion are what are interesting me now. There's also the paranoid fear that I have become boring and one of the people on this island that I loathe so much, but I try not to think about that too much, because, I tell myself, the fact that I have a blog and the fact that I can spell segragate me from that herd of fun loving materialists who usually don't even take time to think about what they're thinking about. Of course, the other going theory at the moment is that since I'm largely happy and well adjusted and don't actually have Any Bad Things Happening To Me, it's really kind of ridiculous to start getting upset and paranoid about the fact that I'm not musing about personal challenges or tragedies, since there are none and that's not a bad thing.
It did however get me waxing nostalgic about the all the angsting I did when I was younger, but then when you're younger, you're supposed to be angsting. All the drama in highschool, the mindbending self-discovery of university, long lonely walks, or rambles with friends all night, sitting around wanting to die all the time... ah, the good old days...
Not. Bloody. LIKELY.
To be honest, I'm GLAD those days are gone. That the emotional rollercoaster has finally ground to a halt and now I'm just Sarcastic Writer Guy who is finally enjoying the fruits of all the struggle and no longer has to sit around being upset all the time. I like not being upset. Since it's still such a relatively recent thing, there's still a lot of novelty to this whole Not Upset thing and I want to ride it out and see where it goes. Although Anne's blog did make me feel nostalgic about those days when confidences from friends were heart-achingly tragic and dramatic and the maelstrom of acquaintances, their trials, tribulations including my own, were soap opera worthy and it seemed like everyone was upset about something really True and Important.
I dunno. Maybe drama is for the 20 something crowd. Or them crazy teens. I keep thinking if the only problem I have on this Earth is "How are we going to manage the rent until June?" Then I'm doing pretty darn peachy keen in the life department. I still occasionally pine for Wonder Years-esque moments of epiphany where someone says something else while sitting on a little wooden pier thing, overlooking a lake as the sun sets, we turn to stare at the reflection of the sky in the water and the the guitar music starts up:
Me [20 years from now] voice over: And it was at that instant that I realized a lot of things. That maybe the people we were going to be was shaped by things we talked about now. That maybe a whole life can change because of one walk around a lake, talking about secret wishes.
Pal: Wanna' get a slush?
Me: Yeah.
Me [VO]: Or that maybe a moment of friendship is all it takes to make things not so bad anymore. But then, I guess that's what being young is all about.
Song: What would you do, if I sang out of tune...
[Camera on crane pans up and zooms out in slow arty way]
[cue credits]
To be fair, I did have my share of drama, did my time with the rest of the proles working in West Edmonton Mall as a ride operator and was even insane enough to not only volunteer to work on a suicide distress line, but take NIGHT SHIFTS and talk to the seriously, I'm-Gonna-Do-It-Any-Second, desperate types who only call at 4 am. And while I'm proud of the work I did, and the fact that I helped a few people here and there, I don't know if I'd do it all over again just because I'm feeling guilty about not having any Oscar Worthy stories of personal discovery or struggle to talk about anymore.
I dunno... Maybe I'm just all grown up now.
I got a major attack of the guilties earlier after finding a blog called Anne... Straight From The Hip. Anne is a deep n' profound woman. Her blog entries are full of insight and emotion and thoughtfulness and little moments of wisdom culled from every day or not so every day events, but after reading these entries, you get the idea that this is a very passionate and thinking woman who you wouldn't mind having around as a good friend to just unload, bitch or shoot the breeze with.
I have of late noticed that my always smarmy, always smart alecky posts are usually full of snappy one-liners and imagined dialogue, and are largely reviews of movies, games and comics. Part of this, I tell myself, is because I have nothing really dramatic happening in my life and so these little moments of Enlightened Opinion are what are interesting me now. There's also the paranoid fear that I have become boring and one of the people on this island that I loathe so much, but I try not to think about that too much, because, I tell myself, the fact that I have a blog and the fact that I can spell segragate me from that herd of fun loving materialists who usually don't even take time to think about what they're thinking about. Of course, the other going theory at the moment is that since I'm largely happy and well adjusted and don't actually have Any Bad Things Happening To Me, it's really kind of ridiculous to start getting upset and paranoid about the fact that I'm not musing about personal challenges or tragedies, since there are none and that's not a bad thing.
It did however get me waxing nostalgic about the all the angsting I did when I was younger, but then when you're younger, you're supposed to be angsting. All the drama in highschool, the mindbending self-discovery of university, long lonely walks, or rambles with friends all night, sitting around wanting to die all the time... ah, the good old days...
Not. Bloody. LIKELY.
To be honest, I'm GLAD those days are gone. That the emotional rollercoaster has finally ground to a halt and now I'm just Sarcastic Writer Guy who is finally enjoying the fruits of all the struggle and no longer has to sit around being upset all the time. I like not being upset. Since it's still such a relatively recent thing, there's still a lot of novelty to this whole Not Upset thing and I want to ride it out and see where it goes. Although Anne's blog did make me feel nostalgic about those days when confidences from friends were heart-achingly tragic and dramatic and the maelstrom of acquaintances, their trials, tribulations including my own, were soap opera worthy and it seemed like everyone was upset about something really True and Important.
I dunno. Maybe drama is for the 20 something crowd. Or them crazy teens. I keep thinking if the only problem I have on this Earth is "How are we going to manage the rent until June?" Then I'm doing pretty darn peachy keen in the life department. I still occasionally pine for Wonder Years-esque moments of epiphany where someone says something else while sitting on a little wooden pier thing, overlooking a lake as the sun sets, we turn to stare at the reflection of the sky in the water and the the guitar music starts up:
Me [20 years from now] voice over: And it was at that instant that I realized a lot of things. That maybe the people we were going to be was shaped by things we talked about now. That maybe a whole life can change because of one walk around a lake, talking about secret wishes.
Pal: Wanna' get a slush?
Me: Yeah.
Me [VO]: Or that maybe a moment of friendship is all it takes to make things not so bad anymore. But then, I guess that's what being young is all about.
Song: What would you do, if I sang out of tune...
[Camera on crane pans up and zooms out in slow arty way]
[cue credits]
To be fair, I did have my share of drama, did my time with the rest of the proles working in West Edmonton Mall as a ride operator and was even insane enough to not only volunteer to work on a suicide distress line, but take NIGHT SHIFTS and talk to the seriously, I'm-Gonna-Do-It-Any-Second, desperate types who only call at 4 am. And while I'm proud of the work I did, and the fact that I helped a few people here and there, I don't know if I'd do it all over again just because I'm feeling guilty about not having any Oscar Worthy stories of personal discovery or struggle to talk about anymore.
I dunno... Maybe I'm just all grown up now.
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