Archive for February, 2008

The Ancient One

Neilalien is — unbelievably! — eight years a Blogger today.

And now I go to think some more, for a time;  not least, on how lucky I am I never posted that “On The Life-Span Of Blogs” thing…

But I will return, and when I do I’ll have vengeance!  Vengeance on the accursed Ancient One, and his disciple…!

…Oh, that’s right;  he doesn’t have a disciple.

Not quite to that part of the story yet, I guess.

Sigh.  Well, I’ll send you a postcard from the dimension of Raggador, shall I?

Happy belated, Neilalien!

Unexpected Clonal Sentience; Weird Comic-Book Teams; Critical Mass!

The Clone’s responsible, not me. It wasn’t me, it was the Clone.

Yesss…it was the Clone

Who’s responsible for this thought:

Philip K. Dick on Spider-Man?

Okay, let’s do this. This is what we do, for God’s sake. And anyway Marvel and DC are all about the vanity-plate writers (no offense, vanity-plate writers) these days, and anyway again, it isn’t like any of this is new.

Right?

So: vanity-plate writers, from all times, all places. Can you pick the few, the precious few, who could legitimately compete with our own Comic Greats?

I have offered Dick on Spider-Man (Christ, can you imagine it? Dick and Ditko?)

And I’ll even do another:

Anne McCaffrey on Excalibur.

Oh my God, this is hilariously easy.

Way too easy.

They’re like hiccups.

A.E. Van Vogt on Shade The Changing Man.

Jesus, I think I just crapped my pants. That’s the kind of hiccup I’m talking about. The pant-crapping kind. Do I want to ever read a Shade that isn’t Ditko? No, and apologies to Mr. Milligan, but I certainly do not. No way. However there have already been many non-Ditko comics featuring Shade, so this imagining is no betrayal. No money is changing hands, after all…

James Tiptree, Jr. on Green Lantern Corps.

Isaac Asimov on The Metal Men. Un-robots, get it?

Henry Kuttner on Doom Patrol.

John Brunner on X-Men. With Neal Adams pencilling it.

None of this happened, right? It’s just a dream, right?

Poul Anderson on Weirdworld.

Harlan Ellison on Batgirl.

Bruce Stirling on Dr. Strange.

Cripes.

It kind of seems shocking, but it isn’t like I said “James Michener on the Hulk” or anything. These are our guys and gals, the five-cent-a-word guys and gals, genre folk. Richard Matheson on The Spectre, anybody really got a problem with that idea…?

We will talk about this later, Internet. But for now!

Give me a couple of these, or flip ‘em over the other way, if you like. The new Lensman novel from Roy Thomas!

Oh, we will talk about it.

But for now!

Let’s let a hundred flowers bloom.

Come on, it’ll be fun.

And The Winner Of The Lifetime Alan Alda Achievement Award Is…

…George Clooney!!!

Oh, come now Bloggers. Surely you can’t be all that surprised…I hear he’s working on a remake of The Seduction Of Joe Tynan as we speak…

So as I suppose you can already tell, no, I didn’t watch the Oscars. Instead (and maybe I’m letting Harvey influence me just a little too much, these days), I made up my own Oscars. Because we all know that Will Eisner and Citizen Kane go together like McCain and St. Hubert (Americans: look it up), but what about some of our other favourite comics creators?

What movies might have influenced them?

Well, I guess we don’t know; but anyway, below you’ll find the categories and nominees in my Comics Oscar Pool, and whoever gets the greatest number of winners correct (already predetermined by me, natch) gets to order up a post here on whatever they like, or if they don’t have a blog of their own I’d be happy to have them guest-post. You know, because I’m officially all outta cheap prize ideas. And it sounds like the lamest idea ever, but hey, you never know! It could be fun.

So, without further ado (or at least not much):

 

The Nominees in the Category of Mark Waid are:

My Favourite Year

Raiders of the Lost Ark

Back To The Future

Sleuth

Cape Fear

The Birds

 

And, Kurt Busiek:

The Princess Bride

Raiders of the Lost Ark

The Terminator

To Kill A Mockingbird

Logan’s Run

Apocalypse Now

 

Grant Morrison:

The Pink Panther

Inauguration Of The Pleasure Dome

Bambi

5,000 Fingers Of Dr. T

2001: A Space Odyssey

The Terminator

 

Brian Michael Bendis:

The Usual Suspects

Things To Do In Denver When You’re Dead

Before Sunrise

Cape Fear

Apocalypse Now

In The Company Of Men

 

Mark Millar:

Showgirls

Starship Troopers

The Usual Suspects

Network

Independence Day

The Breakfast Club

 

Geoff Johns:

The Terminator

Silence Of The Lambs

Back To The Future

Platoon

Independence Day

The Big Chill

 

Alan Moore:

I’m All Right, Jack

Inauguration Of The Pleasure Dome

5,000 Fingers Of Dr. T

Metropolis

Casino Royale

A Matter Of Life And Death

 

Warren Ellis:

House of Games

I’m All Right, Jack

Network

Alien

Apocalypse Now

Akira

 

Oh, and that’s all I can come up with for now. Harder than it looks, actually: I tried to give each writer two movies of his very own, that none of the rest shared…but then I had to make it three. Actually the problem was that I didn’t approach the whole thing scientifically from the start, but had to shore up weak spots later. Still, I hope I managed to keep it relatable, and perhaps even — dare I hope? — slightly funny at times.

If anyone can think of any more (or a less hinky prize to give out), that would be AWESOME. But in the meantime…

Place yer bets!

Step #1: Achieve All Goals

Step #2: renew gym membership.

Okay, this is not the stuff I was thinking about, but as I was strolling through the Internet I couldn’t help but notice that it’s once again turning into a wonderful Engineer’s Springtime, with all the pretty blockheaded flowers all in bloom, and so naturally I had to take a moment to stop and smell their delicately practical bouquet. Therefore, from Bloggity-Blog-Blog-Blog, this link to Wired’s report on the world’s most ridiculous shopping list, reproduced here for your convenience:

The Grand Engineering Challenges of the 21st Century

Make solar energy affordable.

Provide energy from fusion.

Develop carbon sequestration methods.

Manage the nitrogen cycle.

Provide access to clean water.

Restore and improve urban infrastructure.

Advance health informatics.

Engineer better medicines.

Reverse-engineer the brain.

Prevent nuclear terror.

Secure cyberspace.

Enhance virtual reality.

Advance personalized learning.

Engineer the tools for scientific discovery.

Yes, it’s a simple matter of restoring, advancing, providing, improving, enhancing, preventing, securing, developing, managing, and (above all) engineering. What could be simpler? I particularly like the bit about reverse-engineering the brain. Yes, we should get right on that. I really think that would be a good idea.

Oh, no, wait: I think I like preventing nuclear terror better. For Christ’s sake, I mean c’mon! Prevent it, already, you lazy bastards!

Sheesh. Buncha knuckleheads. And while you’re at it, engineer some better medicines. Don’t care what they are, just so long as they’re, y’know, better. So hop to it!

Also, how many times have I told you to secure that cyberspace?

This one actually kills me. What does it mean? Why would it be a good thing? I have no idea. Oh, and also “cyberspace” is kind of, what’s the word, not even real. Cyberspace? What’s that? Is that where my mother goes when I show her a picture of something on the computer screen? Absurd. Sexy, of course: but absurd. This is not Neuromancer. There is no “cyberspace”.

But maybe, if we could only enhance that virtual reality stuff, there would be. Honest to God, I laughed out loud at this one. What a priority, it’s amazing! “Enhance virtual reality”. Gosh. I mean, it’s already so great, though, isn’t it? Hard to see how it could be better…

These just start to sound like a bunch of dogs barking, after a while. “Provide energy from fusion!” Actually I think providing the energy from fusion would be the easiest part of the whole trick, don’t you? But oh well, never mind…

Set the controls for the heart of the sun!

Immanentize the eschaton!

Of course, I’m not saying it’s all just bunk. Honestly, I’m not. Not all of these things are crazy the same way, and some of them aren’t even that crazy. Yes, a lot of them just boil down to “Stabilize the improvement vectors!” “Bring the accomplitrons to full power!” “FIRE!” which is to say they’re just a kind of Orwellian Treknobabble…which, okay, is none too good, but it’s so cute! that I can’t stay mad at it for long. “Engineer the tools for scientific discovery!” Woof woof woof. Who’s a good boy?

Reconfigure the stick-throwing matrix!

No, it isn’t the Treknobabble part that’s the problem. The Orwellian part, though…I mean some of these conceal some fairly nasty assumptions about how to recognize “progress” when you see it, eh? Or worse, they conceal no such assumptions, and are therefore twice as nasty. “Advance personalized learning” kind of fills me with a little bit of horror when I consider all the things it could be twisted around to mean…”provide access to clean water” is another one that bugs me, because it does not actually say make sure people have water but only suggests that providing “access” to it…sorry, “providing” “access” to it…would be a good thing to do. And maybe it would, I don’t know. I’m just not sure what’s being said, there. And so I think…

It might not grow up to be so nice, once it’s taken out of its little theoretical bassinet.

But maybe that’s just my slithery brain at work again. I mean, surely “restore and improve infrastructure”, surely there can’t be anything wrong with that? Hmm, but I’m not so sure, actually…not so sure a real engineer mightn’t have some objection to the incredible vagueness of that directive. But you know, what really bothers me is this: what if there are no engineers left, who would object to it? That would be a pretty darn bad omen, if you ask me. “Fix our society, Engineers!” “Nothin’ to it, Boss!” Yikes. So what do you do first, do you round up all the urban geographers, or…?

Many of these things start showing their scary sides as soon as words like “improve” or “develop” get glued onto ‘em, in fact. It isn’t just preventing nuclear terror or securing cyberspace…although, you know: yikes…but even very good-sounding things like advancing health informatics, these too can quickly assume dark aspects. What does it mean to “advance” them? Why are they called health informatics instead of bio-informatics? What are the word-choice implications here?

And if that’s bad, what about the staggering implicational freight that “reverse-engineer the brain” is carrying?

It isn’t that they can do it, you understand. In point of fact, they can’t: this is just word-jazz, it doesn’t mean anything. Create alternatives to circumstantial effects! See, there’s nothing there. But that this is the lingo being used, yeah, that’s a bit chilling to consider. Orwell famously remarked that the word “fascism” seemed to have come to mean, simply, “something bad”…

What, then, would he have made of “reverse-engineer the brain”?

Well, I won’t go on and on about it. You can see it for yourself. “Make solar energy affordable”, uhhh…

You mean it isn’t affordable?

Of course it’s better than affordable: it’s free.

So what’re they talking about?

Answer: they’re talking about something else.

Yeah.

Okay, this has been pleasant, but I have to move along and get back to thinking, now. Now more than ever, now that I know so many people aren’t…

Enjoy the sunshine, Internet!

Thinking…

Pardon me.

I seem to be having a sudden attack of thought.

Of course it may be nothing, but I’ve just got to take a little while to concentrate on it…

Excuse me for a few days, won’t you?

Roll Your Own William Gibson

Rather plain, really.

Every revolution only creates itself, by how it defines itself.

And if we gave up on these constrictive, self-serving definitions of revolt, we could have a revolution every day of the week, if we wanted to.

My neighbour William Gibson once cautioned people not to underestimate the bandwidth of a Fed-Ex truck. I caution you now not to underestimate the bandwidth of a video store that lets you rent two DVDs for a week for three bucks, and that’s moving seasons of your favourite shows in as fast as you can scream out their names. Which, I guess: is the same bandwidth a Fed-Ex truck has.

Which is a lot.

Video on demand?

Man, it’s here already. And it’s about trucks.

So refuse your boxes, and deny your ID!

Let video do what it does best: deliver live programming. Like sports. Or legislative proceedings. Let community and public broadcasting channels continue to show stuff no one even knows they want, until they see it. Let TV be for guiding the eye, and inflaming the interest. And then go down and get the rest at the store. Or watch it on YouTube. Stay ahead of the curve. Or behind it. Whatever works. Hey, take back the sight.

Cause great stock market losses. Ruin great fortunes. Go ahead; I give you permission.

These are my words, for so long as the device known as the antenna survives. Hey, and if you’re sick of waiting for the Eighties to arrive, after all this time: they’re here.

Here!

Now.

So don’t switch phone companies, don’t switch media channels; switch culture delivery systems. Face it, you don’t want a world where you can get any one of a hundred episodes of Friends for ninety-nine cents; because then ten bucks later it’s dinnertime, and then what have you learned since noon? That you can buy five seasons of Friends like a bag of groceries from the store down the street (if that’s what you want) for half the cost of ordering them in like a bunch of greasy pizza slices while you sit in your La-Z-Boy and suck molten American cheese out of a bun?

Hey, what if they brought the world to your doorstep through a fiber-optic cable, but nobody came to answer their knock?

Not that I’m saying it will happen, or even that I want it to happen…

But it could happen. In fact it could happen — or at least start to happen — right now.

And you know…I’d love to see their faces if it did.

There will always be reasonably cheap, reasonably low-key, reasonably high-fidelity, reasonably high-quality culture delivery systems that reward your patronage.
There will always be disgustingly expensive, shitty, fuzzy, sexy culture delivery systems that try to rip you off six ways from Sunday, and don’t give a damn if they do.

And you could actually pick what kind of delivery you want, right now!

Why, it’s just like choosing between potatoes, and potato chips.

It’s really the same thing, really.

Really.

Word to the wise. The time to pick a side may be today. Anyway it couldn’t hurt to pick the right one, even if you’re a bit early.

Sun, Blue Sky, Cold Beet Soup

And so here we are, moving right along. Well, aren’t we? Hmm, maybe we’re not: I watch the clock and sip the soup, wondering when the phone call will come in that means I get paid today…meanwhile you, doubtless, are goofing off at work.

Hey, it’s a transitional time.

If all goes remotely as planned on this bright, chilly Wednesday, Thursday will see me travelling on three buses and a ferry, on my way to do some moderately vigourous (and hopefully moderately lucrative) outdoor physical labour. Then back again. Then off again. Then back. Then off. Hopefully by this summer it will all have congealed into a comforting routine.

In the meantime, there’s blogging: I hope to have a review of Lost Girls up sometime soonish (maybe even today, if the soup holds out!), but right now I’d like to invite Dave Fiore, Mike Loughlin, Cuitlamiztli Carter, The Fortress Keeper, and Disintegrating Clone to revisit the “Worst Superteam” comment thread and cast their votes for a winner. Because as always, the truly enjoyable thing about blogging isn’t in the writing, but in the reading: in getting to sneak a peek at other peoples’ curious or interesting ideas.

Hey, it’s like a metaphor, or something…!

So let’s do some of that, at least ’til the phone rings.

Waiter, more soup over here, if you please!

999

I put this in as an edit in the last post, but I’ll put it up here as a thing of its own…because you should really see it.

Tom Spurgeon’s “Collective Memory” — which I somewhat foolishly took to consist of 999 Gerber-related blog entries at first (“999″ is actually the name of someone’s blog), nonetheless logs more commemorations of Steve Gerber’s life and work than I can comfortably count.

Quite clearly not a thousand, though — silly me.  But it’s a pretty big number anyway.

“Skyless Space And Time Without Depth”

A couple hours have gone by, and I seemed to be a lot freer of the strange sense of shock I felt when I heard that Steve Gerber died…

So I checked the Comics Weblog Update.

And there were…

How many?

There were many. Eulogistic remarks being made, that is. Something like a flood of them, actually.

Yes: rather like a flood.

I pretty much have to go to bed, now. But in the morning I’ll use this post to link to a big chunk of the ones I saw, plus Mark Evanier and Stevegerblog…which is currently being administrated by Mark Evanier, natch. Really, all hail Mark, for God’s sake: what won’t that guy do for a friend?

Okay, ’til tomorrow then, when there’ll be some links on this post.

And just like that, here it is tomorrow. And they’re still coming in.

Here are just a few, or a few that contain links to a few, or a few that just contain links:

Steve’s blog

Mark Evanier

Len Wein

Marv Wolfman

Peter B. Gillis

Gail Simone

Lea Hernandez

Dave Sim

Neil Gaiman

Charles Yoakum

Blogorama Quote/Unquote

Comics Bulletin

There are, as I’ve said, many more like this. As well as many, many far-flung fans who felt moved to compose a little piece of their own:

Phil Mateer

Todd Franklin

Gavin Burrows

Matt M.

Roger Green

John from Long Beach

Bauwauhaus

I mean, I have no idea who these people are, you understand: I just found them, that’s all. Found them, and thought: “hey…fellow lodge member.” Fellow human being wandering around in the blackout. Howya doing. Thank you for your eloquent remembrances.

A few more, slightly better-known bloggers also shared their thoughts, like:

Danny Best

Bitterandrew

Mike Sterling

Steve Flanagan

Brendan Wright

Tim O’Neill

Johnny Bacardi

And finally quite a handful of the usual inside-the-Beltway suspects from over on my sidebar found themselves with things to say about Steve…but with no disrespect intended, I’ll just mention one or two of them, because this is getting quite long, and unfortunately I have to go to work:

RAB, naturally

Jim Roeg

Gorjus

Disintegrating Clone

The Fortress Keeper

David Golding

I regret the necessity of missing out so many people…but unfortunately that is a necessity, at least from where I’m sitting, with no food in me and a pile of work to do. Please browse around, though: there are many very moving elegies for Steve out there. They’re practically hanging from the rafters.

Fitting tributes, all. You basically just have to close your eyes and throw a dart, and you’ll hit one.

Now it’s back to the coal face for me, I’m afraid. More later; hope you find these useful.

[EDIT: Tom Spurgeon is collecting links too, much more comprehensively than I've done here. I'm sure you all saw his eulogy, but this is something you shouldn't miss: 999 blog entries reporting so far, and a lot of miscellaneous stuff too. Truly remarkable.]

This Word Is Not Too Much…

From Jim Roeg’s marvellous essay on the lately-deceased Steve Gerber’s work on Marvel Two-In-One…

Available on the sidebar under “Seven Soldiers of Steve”, under the title “Two Earth-Clotted Hands”

(For anyone visiting from Stevegerblog, here’s the link…well worth reading, in my opinion…)

Quoting Camus…

“If the descent [of Sisyphus] is sometimes performed in sorrow, it can also take place in joy. This word is not too much….One does not discover the absurd without being tempted to write a manual of happiness….Happiness and the absurd are two sons of the same earth. They are inseparable….

I leave Sisyphus at the foot of the mountain! One always finds one’s burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the gods and raises rocks. He too concludes that all is well. This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night-filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

Yes, Jim.

Yes, to all of that.

I was troubled, not long ago, by the idea of Steve Gerber, my hero really, labouring under a severe shortness of breath. Well, I know how that feels, myself: I have sometimes been cursed with a shortness of breath, with an inability to take a breath, with the feeling that breath — what many of the ancient peoples of the Earth believed to be identical with “thought”, or “soul” — was leaving me behind.

If there is a feeling in this world which merits the name “urgent”, it’s that feeling.

When it’s a Sisyphean task to draw a breath, and live…or to not draw one, and die…

Well actually…both of those are Sisyphean endeavours, as Jim’s essay makes clear.

What does Camus say?

“If this myth is tragic, that is because its hero is conscious”?

Sorry, wrong one. Instead, it must be:

“A face that toils so close to stones is already stone itself!”

I’ll stop quoting Jim’s selections from Camus, now. Because I’m sure I’ve accomplished the goal (!) of making it clear that, though he’s a mythological figure that toils on after death, Sisyphus’ story really addresses the toil of life: and the struggle to make something of it, to hold onto it, to crest the top of it. Of course one never can. Well: only once.

Breath, too, is a stone we roll up, only to have it ever roll back down again. And in that exhalation is the very “hour of consciousness” when we surpass life, death, fate, and the Gods — is it not? I like to think that in that final hour, we do at last crest the top of the hill, and see the boulder careening down it on the other side…and then we still turn our faces from the Sun, and walk down to the hollow again. Our job finally done, we go to the land, the hiding-place, of Rest. There to wait.

Well, maybe.

But we don’t know, actually.

Maybe we chase the boulder down the other side, yipping and hollering and waving our hats around!

Maybe rest is not needed!

Maybe Sisyphus escapes!

But the point is, I think, that Sisyphus has already escaped, long before the possibility arises that he may at last go over the hill…and he’s already found all the rest he needs. Well, is that not the meaning of existentialism? Sisyphus has already escaped; he has already written, and read, the manual of happiness. He has already found all the peace there is. That face, which toiled so close to stones, has already become stone itself, long since. We unfortunately live; but we must consider ourselves happy, as alien a feeling as that may be to us. We must find the peace that is here.

Because the stone we roll up, that we toil so close to, is naturally Death. Is naturally breath. Is naturally mind, and soul, and speech. And they’re all the same: inseparable. A big basket of gifts, wrapped in a single sheet of paper. I’ll quote, not Camus, but myself:

He’ll freeze the world in a tick of time/ Just to run up a path that the facts won’t find

Well the world is a hill that/ Nobody might climb

That the King of Fevers can’t/ Keep from tryin’…

Forgive me: it was fun, typing that out, and I shouldn’t be having fun today. My Sisyphean hero has made his last exhalation, either skipped off down the side of the hill that we can’t see, or peacefully made his way back down the side…well, that we still can’t see…

Having written this story that Jim’s revealed so brilliantly for us…

Having written this manual of happiness…

He has himself formed a world. Of mineral flakes; of night-filled mountains. Of the wholly human security of two earth-clotted hands.

Rest in peace, Hero Steve. I’ll miss you like nobody’s business. You showed me how to push that stone around. And you showed me that it can also take place in joy.

So I leave you at the foot of the mountain!

And find my burden again.

Pleasant dreams to you, you great Teacher. Great roller of stones! I never knew a stone-roller quite like you.

Maybe, there never was one.


February 2008
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