I have no head for politics. I want to understand the issues - I really do! - and I want to vote wisely. I want to contribute to the well-being of my city, state, and country. What turns me off is the nature of the rhetoric right now and the "Us VS Them" attitude I see being promoted by pundits on both sides. Adding religion into the mix definitely doesn't help; it's been the most divisive force in human history, and we're already struggling to compensate for the growing division between the parties. Year after year, I become more disgusted with American politics and politicians. The solution to many of our nation's problems isn't more government, but it's not less government either; it's smarter government.
While I hold no special place in my heart for the kind of people who are able to hedge their own ideals so thoroughly as to function as spokesmen for any one party's obscene bias, we are occasionally reminded that these politicians are humans, too, and that they are every bit as susceptible to the violent prejudices of gun-toting headcases as we are - doubtless moreso because of their publicity. As I am sure most are aware by now, congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona was wounded in what may have been an assassination attempt while she was speaking to constituents in a convenience store parking lot. I've been following this story pretty passively, catching bits of it here and there. It's a terrible thing, of course, but it's been interesting seeing how our nation is responding. There's been a great outpouring of care and concern, but there's also been a lot of pretty nefarious insinuation going on. I won't comment about Sarah Palin and the bull's-eye graphics, nor will I opine about Giffords's policies. I don't want to make this about any one person's politics, and that's the point of this blog.
Gabrielle's shooting has shown us, if nothing else has, that partisan bickering can disappear when we show genuine concern for the suffering of another human being. We can disagree without slander, speak out without malice, compete without enmity. We can - we can - remember that government is about people, not about advancing one set of ideals into the halls of power. That kind of mindset is what creates people like Gabrielle's shooter. It at least inspires them. Move the right forward, move the left against them. Killing for ideals. How far are we from that, really? Giffords survived this attack, but she was one of 20 people who were shot. Six are dead, including a child. Isn't it a little bit galling to think that there are people who are turning this into a political issue?
"My religion is peace," said the Dalai Lama. A government that does not foster peace cannot function, no matter what its policies or religious leanings may be. Jared Lee Loughner represents a large faction of people who are every bit as eager for peace as the Dalai Lama, but for their version of peace to be achieved, certain people have to die. The more divided we become, the more ground individuals like him gain, even if they remain on the fringes. As we hold out hope for Gabrielle and as we grieve for those who died in Loughner's shooting spree, may we take away the lesson that a house divided against itself cannot stand - that we would do well to spend more time at each other's ears than at each other's throats.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
The Spiderman Reboot
Ok, so I was just on facebook and just saw an article of pictures from the new Spiderman reboot, which is set to focus around Peter Parker in high school. Emma Stone (Easy A, Lucky Louie) is playing Gwen Stacy. Wait, WHAT!? She has red hair, Mary Jane has red hair. Why did they not just cast her as MJ and not have her dye her hair. I'm sorry, but this movie is starting to scream FAIL!
First of all, I liked all of the previous Spiderman movies directed by Sam Raimi who also did the evil dead movies. The first movie was great, possibly the first time anything like that was seen on the big screen. The acting talent was there, as it blasted some of the actors into other roles. William Dafoe played an amazing Green Goblin/Norman Osbourne. The movie led into other things in the next movies, such as Harry Osbourne and Peter fighting over the death of Norman.
The second movie was good, but I felt it was short and not as good as the first. It was an ok sequel and did the job it needed to do. But thats all I feel I can say about the second movie.
The third movie got a lot of criticism, but I liked it. I liked it a lot. Comic nerds said it sucked, well I say they were terribly wrong. It had some really great effects.Sandman was brought to life. Venom was brought in which was great, even though some complained about that too. I guess hobgoblin teaming with Peter pissed some people off but whatever.
Now, because people were so turned-off by the third movie, and Raimi leaving the series behind, they are doing a high school reboot. Seriously!? Why didn't they stick with the last series of movies? I just don't think a high school reboot is what I'd prefer and a lot of other people wouldn't ether. Also, when I say a lot of people, I think I speak for A LOT of people, like a good mass of Marvel's fan base. Will I see the movie? Yes I probably will and maybe I'm over-reacting a bit. I just feel this movie is setting itself up to do bad.
First of all, I liked all of the previous Spiderman movies directed by Sam Raimi who also did the evil dead movies. The first movie was great, possibly the first time anything like that was seen on the big screen. The acting talent was there, as it blasted some of the actors into other roles. William Dafoe played an amazing Green Goblin/Norman Osbourne. The movie led into other things in the next movies, such as Harry Osbourne and Peter fighting over the death of Norman.
The second movie was good, but I felt it was short and not as good as the first. It was an ok sequel and did the job it needed to do. But thats all I feel I can say about the second movie.
The third movie got a lot of criticism, but I liked it. I liked it a lot. Comic nerds said it sucked, well I say they were terribly wrong. It had some really great effects.Sandman was brought to life. Venom was brought in which was great, even though some complained about that too. I guess hobgoblin teaming with Peter pissed some people off but whatever.
Now, because people were so turned-off by the third movie, and Raimi leaving the series behind, they are doing a high school reboot. Seriously!? Why didn't they stick with the last series of movies? I just don't think a high school reboot is what I'd prefer and a lot of other people wouldn't ether. Also, when I say a lot of people, I think I speak for A LOT of people, like a good mass of Marvel's fan base. Will I see the movie? Yes I probably will and maybe I'm over-reacting a bit. I just feel this movie is setting itself up to do bad.
Video Games and Art - Defending Roger Ebert
You may have noticed the disappointed and defensive noises video gamers made last April when film critic Roger Ebert wrote that video games can "never be art" in his regular column for the Chicago Sun. A small community of gamers who read the Sun Times or follow Ebert's blogs spread the word to a much larger community of gamers who, in all likelihood, can never remember whether Ebert is the fat one or the skinny one (and probably aren't aware that "the skinny one" died 12 years ago), who promptly kicked up the standard call-to-arms that you might hear ringing across the internet's hills and dales whenever someone has the gall to express a subversive opinion. That description may not necessarily be fair, but I'm exercising my editorial rights here because, despite an initial surge of indignation, Roger Ebert is a man I greatly respect and I have actually come to realize that I agree with him in a way.
"Video games can never be art." This is the most-cited quote from the article. Ebert refers to art as defined by Wikipedia and compares games to the works of Michaelangelo and Shakespeare. This is, of course, the statement that caused all the uproar, and I'm still on the fence as to whether or not I think it's true. One could certainly point to games like Shadow of the Colossus, Mass Effect, or Little Big Planet in order to make a case that video games are as deserving as A Midsummer Night's Dream to be called art. There is, at least, art in video games. The Assassin's Creed series pays very close attention to detail when designing the fantastic vistas - views of such places as ancient Acre and 15th century Italy - that are, in part, its hallmark. It's difficult to perch atop the iron cross crowning Florence's tallest church and be unaffected by the beauty of the game's design, even if, directly afterward, you dive into a hay bale and leap out suddenly to stab a soldier in the neck. The soundtrack and the storyline in the Mass Effect series rival those of many of the big screen features on which Mr. Ebert has made his living. From one perspective, how can anyone say that, in the wide realm of art, there is no place at all for video games?
But there is a deeper question here. Who is really qualified to make objective statements about what is and is not art? Few would argue that the Mona Lisa, King Lear, or Paradise Lost are not works of art, but there are styles that straddle the line. Dadaism is one such example; it is anti-art. The dadaist movement, which began around 1914, intentionally defies artistic conventions in the pursuit of generating works that can effectively comment on art itself or on the artistic process. Is this art? If it could be said, objectively, that van Gogh's The Potato Eaters is a work of art while it can also be said that art can arise from a movement which aims to create "non-art," as it were, then we should be feeling a little bit of cognitive dissonance. My point is that the definition is ambiguous, and I don't agree that Roger Ebert is in any place to tell us what can and can never be art. I tend to think that games are art, but I won't go so far as so to say that my opinion is the only right one.
There is a resolution to all this. Ebert has apologized for speaking out, though he still maintains that he is correct. We should now be quoting this passage:
"Video games can never be art." This is the most-cited quote from the article. Ebert refers to art as defined by Wikipedia and compares games to the works of Michaelangelo and Shakespeare. This is, of course, the statement that caused all the uproar, and I'm still on the fence as to whether or not I think it's true. One could certainly point to games like Shadow of the Colossus, Mass Effect, or Little Big Planet in order to make a case that video games are as deserving as A Midsummer Night's Dream to be called art. There is, at least, art in video games. The Assassin's Creed series pays very close attention to detail when designing the fantastic vistas - views of such places as ancient Acre and 15th century Italy - that are, in part, its hallmark. It's difficult to perch atop the iron cross crowning Florence's tallest church and be unaffected by the beauty of the game's design, even if, directly afterward, you dive into a hay bale and leap out suddenly to stab a soldier in the neck. The soundtrack and the storyline in the Mass Effect series rival those of many of the big screen features on which Mr. Ebert has made his living. From one perspective, how can anyone say that, in the wide realm of art, there is no place at all for video games?
But there is a deeper question here. Who is really qualified to make objective statements about what is and is not art? Few would argue that the Mona Lisa, King Lear, or Paradise Lost are not works of art, but there are styles that straddle the line. Dadaism is one such example; it is anti-art. The dadaist movement, which began around 1914, intentionally defies artistic conventions in the pursuit of generating works that can effectively comment on art itself or on the artistic process. Is this art? If it could be said, objectively, that van Gogh's The Potato Eaters is a work of art while it can also be said that art can arise from a movement which aims to create "non-art," as it were, then we should be feeling a little bit of cognitive dissonance. My point is that the definition is ambiguous, and I don't agree that Roger Ebert is in any place to tell us what can and can never be art. I tend to think that games are art, but I won't go so far as so to say that my opinion is the only right one.
There is a resolution to all this. Ebert has apologized for speaking out, though he still maintains that he is correct. We should now be quoting this passage:
"Why are gamers so intensely concerned, anyway, that games be defined as art? Bobby Fischer, Michael Jordan and Dick Butkus never said they thought their games were an art form. Nor did Shi Hua Chen, winner of the $500,000 World Series of Mah Jong in 2009. Why aren’t gamers content to play their games and simply enjoy themselves? They have my blessing, not that they care."
And this, at long last, is my point: we don't need to reach a consensus. Whatever video games might or might not be, those who enjoy them should and will go on enjoying them. It doesn't matter whether or not video games can be objectively said to be art, and it doesn't matter what Roger Ebert thinks about that issue. Thus, though he seems to render his entire argument meaningless with the above statement, I defend him. I defend his right to opine about something that I cannot imagine he really knows much about, because he does so with the caveat that his word is not law and that his opinion shouldn't be too terribly important to us anyway.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Glory Days
I don't like to listen to the radio. I won't pretend that my opinion of contemporary music is objective, but it certainly seems to me that music used to be better. It used to have more life, it used to be more thoughtful, it used to be art - even the radio stuff, which was generally approved for mass-consumption on the basis of its simplicity and ease of digestion. Everyone says this at some point, and I'm only now beginning to realize that. My car does not have a CD player, and I am often forced to listen to the radio when I have run out of songs to sing to myself. There is a "Gen X" station in my area, and I'm drawn to that quite often. It's surprising to see just how well I fit into that marketing bracket. I'm also frequently surprised by how many songs are now considered oldies.
I see myself aging. Why isn't my taste in music evolving anymore? Why am I stuck in the past? I used to ask that of my father when he would listen to Bread or J. Geils, and now I ask it of myself when I'm turning up Nine Inch Nails. Maybe it's because my formative years are over, but I still cling to the soundtrack of those years. On a long enough timeline, I suppose we all give in to nostalgia.
And this brings me to my point. What are the children of today going to look back on? Bieber? The whipping back and forth of hair? The monstrous (and pretty much inexplicable) fame of Lady Gaga? I can look back very far, even past my time. I can look back on Queen and Zep, Jeff Beck and Elton John, Phil Collins, Genesis, Wings, The Beatles, Annie Lennox. So many timeless acts, music that is still influential after thirty years or more. Will the youth of today look back at the same things? What is the musical legacy of the last decade? The 90s had a strong musical identity. So did the 60s, 70s, and 80s. But I don't see that in the music of the Oughts. I don't see the flair, the style, the originality. I find a hard time believing that anyone will some day claim to have been influenced by Miley Cyrus in the same way that so many have been influenced by Chuck Berry. Contemporary radio music seems disposable. It's immediate, dated almost as soon as it hits the airwaves, a photograph of a moment and a place that no one will identify with in 10 years, much less 20. Little of it will stand the test of time the way Queen, Black Sabbath, orNirvana have. This past decade has been a festival of youth worship, and youth and beauty do not last. No, it is the truly great artists that we remember - they who not only defined their generations but whose music was less an appeal to the empty-headed masses who want only a backing track for the meaningless circus of their wasteful lives than it was often a portrait of the human condition as it could be, or as it could not possibly be, and that is what we remember.
We do not remember the elevator music. We remember songs that capture our feelings honestly. In 30 more years, people will still be listening to Born to Run. But will we look back on the last decade of top 40 hits as fondly? What will shape the music to come?
To quote Bertrand Russel: "...in view of the silliness of the majority of mankind, a widespread belief is more likely to be foolish than sensible." I have lived this to a fault - and quite unintentionally. I have believed that anything with mass appeal must be of lesser value, because the only way to engineer a work of art so that it appeals to the masses is to remove all intelligence and uniqueness from it. But, clearly, this is not always true. Ghostbusters did phenomenally well in theaters, and rightly so. Queen is remembered for being an incredibly versatile and consistent band, and they deserve their place in the Hall of Fame. But I see my prejudice gaining more and more support as years wear on. Will we some day look back on 2000-2010 and point to musical acts that defined that decade? I expect us, instead, to look past that pop radio wasteland to the eternally fertile ground of the days when we all expected music to really mean something.
I see myself aging. Why isn't my taste in music evolving anymore? Why am I stuck in the past? I used to ask that of my father when he would listen to Bread or J. Geils, and now I ask it of myself when I'm turning up Nine Inch Nails. Maybe it's because my formative years are over, but I still cling to the soundtrack of those years. On a long enough timeline, I suppose we all give in to nostalgia.
And this brings me to my point. What are the children of today going to look back on? Bieber? The whipping back and forth of hair? The monstrous (and pretty much inexplicable) fame of Lady Gaga? I can look back very far, even past my time. I can look back on Queen and Zep, Jeff Beck and Elton John, Phil Collins, Genesis, Wings, The Beatles, Annie Lennox. So many timeless acts, music that is still influential after thirty years or more. Will the youth of today look back at the same things? What is the musical legacy of the last decade? The 90s had a strong musical identity. So did the 60s, 70s, and 80s. But I don't see that in the music of the Oughts. I don't see the flair, the style, the originality. I find a hard time believing that anyone will some day claim to have been influenced by Miley Cyrus in the same way that so many have been influenced by Chuck Berry. Contemporary radio music seems disposable. It's immediate, dated almost as soon as it hits the airwaves, a photograph of a moment and a place that no one will identify with in 10 years, much less 20. Little of it will stand the test of time the way Queen, Black Sabbath, orNirvana have. This past decade has been a festival of youth worship, and youth and beauty do not last. No, it is the truly great artists that we remember - they who not only defined their generations but whose music was less an appeal to the empty-headed masses who want only a backing track for the meaningless circus of their wasteful lives than it was often a portrait of the human condition as it could be, or as it could not possibly be, and that is what we remember.
We do not remember the elevator music. We remember songs that capture our feelings honestly. In 30 more years, people will still be listening to Born to Run. But will we look back on the last decade of top 40 hits as fondly? What will shape the music to come?
To quote Bertrand Russel: "...in view of the silliness of the majority of mankind, a widespread belief is more likely to be foolish than sensible." I have lived this to a fault - and quite unintentionally. I have believed that anything with mass appeal must be of lesser value, because the only way to engineer a work of art so that it appeals to the masses is to remove all intelligence and uniqueness from it. But, clearly, this is not always true. Ghostbusters did phenomenally well in theaters, and rightly so. Queen is remembered for being an incredibly versatile and consistent band, and they deserve their place in the Hall of Fame. But I see my prejudice gaining more and more support as years wear on. Will we some day look back on 2000-2010 and point to musical acts that defined that decade? I expect us, instead, to look past that pop radio wasteland to the eternally fertile ground of the days when we all expected music to really mean something.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Playstation Move
So, the other day I decided to splurge and buy myself the playstation move. I had a bad a experience, as I had bought everything but the controllers from best buy. I ended up returning the playstation camera, and buying the bundle from gamestop. The bundle I purchased contained a game called Sports Champions. It also had one controller and the camera. Got it home and enjoyed it a lot. The game includes a bunch of different sports games you can play volleyball, bocce, disc golf, table tennis to name a few, as well as gladiator, a sword and shield battle game. Flailing my arm around to swing a sword that isn't even in my hand has never been so much fun.
The move system as well as the game is extremely fun. Your movements are really accurate. Spiking a volleyball by making the movement with your arm has a satisfactory feeling when you score on the spike. That's just one of the cool movements in the game. You can jump to indicate a jumping sword strike, make a bump gesture to cause your character to bump the volleyball in the air to setup your partner, throw a Frisbee up and on a slant to curve it. The system and game can also be a work out at times. I literally broke a sweat at 12:00AM while playing gladiator and volleyball last night. It also strains your arm a little bit. I'm actually a little surprised by the move system.
The bottom line is I find the new move system a lot of fun. It's very simple to use. The accuracy is really good and seems it will be able to compete with kinect and wii with no problem. I have a feeling I may use the wand controller more then the original playstation controller because I want to move around when I play now.
The move system as well as the game is extremely fun. Your movements are really accurate. Spiking a volleyball by making the movement with your arm has a satisfactory feeling when you score on the spike. That's just one of the cool movements in the game. You can jump to indicate a jumping sword strike, make a bump gesture to cause your character to bump the volleyball in the air to setup your partner, throw a Frisbee up and on a slant to curve it. The system and game can also be a work out at times. I literally broke a sweat at 12:00AM while playing gladiator and volleyball last night. It also strains your arm a little bit. I'm actually a little surprised by the move system.
The bottom line is I find the new move system a lot of fun. It's very simple to use. The accuracy is really good and seems it will be able to compete with kinect and wii with no problem. I have a feeling I may use the wand controller more then the original playstation controller because I want to move around when I play now.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Back in the Saddle for 2011?
Hey Gang, it's Scott. You're right, I've been slow on all these upcoming updates and projects and I apologize. I also have to introduce the new wonderful staff additions I added to the site for kicking off 2011 this week.
December has been quite a long year. I got over a cold and then, during my week for vacation and time off, my computer's harddrive decided to crash and burn. And not in the glorious way. So here we are. We're ending 2010 soon but we still have some magic up our sleeves. Just watch... ;)
-Scott
December has been quite a long year. I got over a cold and then, during my week for vacation and time off, my computer's harddrive decided to crash and burn. And not in the glorious way. So here we are. We're ending 2010 soon but we still have some magic up our sleeves. Just watch... ;)
-Scott
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Pear Trees and Partridges
This time of year, virtually every where you go there are Christmas songs playing. The weather outside is frightful, yes. We all know this one. We know about the tiny tots, eyes all aglow, and the anticipation for the arrival of a magical, bearded man that keeps them awake on Christmas eve. when know about reindeer games and one-horse open sleighs. None of this is new. And, every December, we get to hear all about these things again - and again - from version to kitschy version. If I sound a little bitter, it's because I recently came to the realization that I am tired of Christmas music.
I tend to push against tradition. I'm not a boat-rocker or a rebel of any kind; I just always feel a little bit of revulsion when I see people doing something simply because it's popular. This can lead me to avoid things that are genuinely worth my time to experience - the more people tell me that I need to see a certain film or read or certain book or check out a certain band, the less likely I am to do any of those things. While I was out shopping yesterday, listening to yet another version of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland," I started to feel that little bit of sickness. It's always been there - the instinct to question Christmas traditions - but I feel permeated by it now to a greater degree than ever before. Clearly, the pageant attitude of Christmas, the mindless ceremony, and the public pressure to take part in all of this holiday madness have simply worn on me. I honestly used to enjoy Christmas songs! But my recent epiphany left me wondering whether or not we sing them and listen to them at this time of year because they genuinely speak to us or because we have been doing so as long as we can remember. I'm inclined to believe that, more often than not, the latter is true.
So why should this be a bad thing? Surely it's harmless. We hum the songs, we spend the money, we have family dinners. We do all the Christmas things just like everyone else. Where's the harm? Well, that's not really my point. My point is that it's just meaningless, and that repeating the same rituals over and over eventually devalues the purpose of the rituals. Like a child who believes that "Elleminnow" is one of the letters of the alphabet, we have, in large part, learned Christmas through imitation. I wonder if there are deeper things at work...if there might be a natural human tendency to fall into endless repetition of virtually changeless routines. Whatever the case, it's getting to me. Christmas is yet another thing that makes me feel like I don't fit in. It doesn't seem like a season of cheer to me; it seems like a season of blind obligation. The old platitudes are empty: peace on Earth and goodwill towards men. Peace is not something that can be obtained through thoughtless conformity. If there is one thing I know about people, it's that we have no natural tendency to shut off our brains and slip through life enthralled to popular edict. No, that tendency is programmed, learned, acquired, and whenever I see people stuck in that loop I get a little sad. We cannot have peace if we do not think about why we do the things that we do and whether or not we actually want to do them, and there will never be goodwill toward men if we hold one another to standards of conformity which have no basis in necessity, being rooted solely in tradition.
I tend to push against tradition. I'm not a boat-rocker or a rebel of any kind; I just always feel a little bit of revulsion when I see people doing something simply because it's popular. This can lead me to avoid things that are genuinely worth my time to experience - the more people tell me that I need to see a certain film or read or certain book or check out a certain band, the less likely I am to do any of those things. While I was out shopping yesterday, listening to yet another version of "Walking in a Winter Wonderland," I started to feel that little bit of sickness. It's always been there - the instinct to question Christmas traditions - but I feel permeated by it now to a greater degree than ever before. Clearly, the pageant attitude of Christmas, the mindless ceremony, and the public pressure to take part in all of this holiday madness have simply worn on me. I honestly used to enjoy Christmas songs! But my recent epiphany left me wondering whether or not we sing them and listen to them at this time of year because they genuinely speak to us or because we have been doing so as long as we can remember. I'm inclined to believe that, more often than not, the latter is true.
So why should this be a bad thing? Surely it's harmless. We hum the songs, we spend the money, we have family dinners. We do all the Christmas things just like everyone else. Where's the harm? Well, that's not really my point. My point is that it's just meaningless, and that repeating the same rituals over and over eventually devalues the purpose of the rituals. Like a child who believes that "Elleminnow" is one of the letters of the alphabet, we have, in large part, learned Christmas through imitation. I wonder if there are deeper things at work...if there might be a natural human tendency to fall into endless repetition of virtually changeless routines. Whatever the case, it's getting to me. Christmas is yet another thing that makes me feel like I don't fit in. It doesn't seem like a season of cheer to me; it seems like a season of blind obligation. The old platitudes are empty: peace on Earth and goodwill towards men. Peace is not something that can be obtained through thoughtless conformity. If there is one thing I know about people, it's that we have no natural tendency to shut off our brains and slip through life enthralled to popular edict. No, that tendency is programmed, learned, acquired, and whenever I see people stuck in that loop I get a little sad. We cannot have peace if we do not think about why we do the things that we do and whether or not we actually want to do them, and there will never be goodwill toward men if we hold one another to standards of conformity which have no basis in necessity, being rooted solely in tradition.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Leaving the Lights Off
I've only just learned that Ridley Scott is making a prequel to Alien. I don't know how long this news has been out, but it was shocking to me. This comes on the heels of the revelation that infamously curvaceous video game character Lara Croft is being redesigned for a Tomb Raider reboot. Add to that the fact that the Coen brothers have filmed their own adaptation of the novel that originally inspired the John Wayne classic True Grit as well as the Ghostbusters III buzz I previously mentioned, and I start to wonder why we're resuscitating so many old franchises.
Let's start with Lara Croft and Tomb Raider. Why has this character endured? Is it because of her compelling story arc? Her deep and interesting personality? Is it because the games have all be good? Certainly not. What is the secret to her staying power? Look at the original game and, comparing it to later and more technologically advanced iterations, you're likely to find it difficult to see that jagged-pixeled sprite as the sex symbol Lara seems to have turned out to be. But, indeed, Croft's prolonged popularity seems to be largely due to nostalgia about what the character was when she first came on the scene. In that way, the franchise has propped itself up from one flawed game to the next, enticing us with unlockable bikinis and that remarkably persistent "naked code" rumor. With its reputation sagging, I understand the impulse to give new life to Tomb Raider, but I ask you this: how long can the series support itself on that first rush of fame? Furthermore, what story do the developers have in mind that could only be told by the Lara Croft character?
Write a new story. Create a new character. Lara Croft broke new ground, pulled to the fore something that had been sleeping in the shadows as the next generation of video games emerged. Instead of working on the new Lara, I assert that developers should be working on the next Lara, leaving Croft in her tomb and giving birth to a new hero who can revolutionize the game industry again and eclipse her. There is no sorrow in this. There is no shame. Croft or no, a bad game is going to fail and a good game is going to move units. Banking on the franchise's history makes it seem like the developers don't have faith that their product will be marketable if it isn't strapped onto the back of a recognizable character.
And thus I say, without prejudice, of Alien. The franchise is dead. It left an indelible mark and has an impressive legacy behind it, despite its decline. It left a pretty corpse, yes, but it's still dead. Craft a new tale, invent a new alien. Why write a prequel? When I watch the first film, which is probably one of the best films ever made, I see a perfectly-wrapped package. I see nothing from which to build a prequel, no backstory to work with. I can't help but think that this prequel will be forced. Of course, there is mystery in Alien. Where did the creatures come from? Who sent the distress signal? What is the history behind the huge pilot? These are all fascinating questions, and they have been tackled in fiction, both official and otherwise, but it's clear that the original film never intended to expand upon them. They were interesting because they were unexplained.
Obviously, this gets very deep into territory I could explore for pages, but my point is this: some territory is better left unexplored. Probe too far into a mystery, and it ceases to be a mystery, and the known is not nearly as exciting as the unknown. What the film industry needs right now is new mysteries, new stories. Sometimes, digging through the past and rewriting history can create new and interesting wrinkles in an already solid franchise. But, more often than not, more light into the dark only serves to reveal mysterious things as mundane and unimpressive.
Let's start with Lara Croft and Tomb Raider. Why has this character endured? Is it because of her compelling story arc? Her deep and interesting personality? Is it because the games have all be good? Certainly not. What is the secret to her staying power? Look at the original game and, comparing it to later and more technologically advanced iterations, you're likely to find it difficult to see that jagged-pixeled sprite as the sex symbol Lara seems to have turned out to be. But, indeed, Croft's prolonged popularity seems to be largely due to nostalgia about what the character was when she first came on the scene. In that way, the franchise has propped itself up from one flawed game to the next, enticing us with unlockable bikinis and that remarkably persistent "naked code" rumor. With its reputation sagging, I understand the impulse to give new life to Tomb Raider, but I ask you this: how long can the series support itself on that first rush of fame? Furthermore, what story do the developers have in mind that could only be told by the Lara Croft character?
Write a new story. Create a new character. Lara Croft broke new ground, pulled to the fore something that had been sleeping in the shadows as the next generation of video games emerged. Instead of working on the new Lara, I assert that developers should be working on the next Lara, leaving Croft in her tomb and giving birth to a new hero who can revolutionize the game industry again and eclipse her. There is no sorrow in this. There is no shame. Croft or no, a bad game is going to fail and a good game is going to move units. Banking on the franchise's history makes it seem like the developers don't have faith that their product will be marketable if it isn't strapped onto the back of a recognizable character.
And thus I say, without prejudice, of Alien. The franchise is dead. It left an indelible mark and has an impressive legacy behind it, despite its decline. It left a pretty corpse, yes, but it's still dead. Craft a new tale, invent a new alien. Why write a prequel? When I watch the first film, which is probably one of the best films ever made, I see a perfectly-wrapped package. I see nothing from which to build a prequel, no backstory to work with. I can't help but think that this prequel will be forced. Of course, there is mystery in Alien. Where did the creatures come from? Who sent the distress signal? What is the history behind the huge pilot? These are all fascinating questions, and they have been tackled in fiction, both official and otherwise, but it's clear that the original film never intended to expand upon them. They were interesting because they were unexplained.
Obviously, this gets very deep into territory I could explore for pages, but my point is this: some territory is better left unexplored. Probe too far into a mystery, and it ceases to be a mystery, and the known is not nearly as exciting as the unknown. What the film industry needs right now is new mysteries, new stories. Sometimes, digging through the past and rewriting history can create new and interesting wrinkles in an already solid franchise. But, more often than not, more light into the dark only serves to reveal mysterious things as mundane and unimpressive.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
The Reason for the Season
Well, Christmas is upon us. Also upon us, however, are Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and the advent of a New Year (for some of us). I suppose I would be remiss if I failed to mention World AIDS Day, Rosa Parks Day, Human Rights Day, Pearl Harbor Day, and the International Day of the Disabled Person. Then, of course, we've also got National Fritters Day, National Roof-Over-Your-Head Day, National Cookie Day, Wear Brown Shoes Day, Mitten Tree Day, and National Noodle Ring Day this month. Lots to do! Holiday season and all.
There are many who would remind you to remember the reason for the season. While you're rushing around buying gifts for people you don't know or don't like but will force yourself to socialize with, it can be difficult to remember that this time of year is not about depression, bankruptcy, and merciless self-flagellation. But there doesn't seem to be any real consensus about the reason for this season, does there? Is it a season of giving? Why only have one season for that? If we are going to give gifts and spend time with our families, why must we wait until the end of the year to do it? Of course, there's always the possibility that Christmas, in particular, has something to do with the birth of a deity. I think we all know the problems with that story. Personally, regarding the nativity of messiahs, I'd rather say that this is a season to celebrate the wearing of brown shoes.
But when you look at it and are honest with yourself, you have to admit that there is no reason for the season. We celebrate because of tradition, because of social pressure, and, that being true, we aren't really celebrating at all. I'm sure a great number of us are still clinging to orthodoxy, but I'd wager to say that the majority of us do what we do this time of year because everyone else does it. The image has become more important than the referent. If you want to celebrate the birth of a god, you can do that all year round. I'm sure he would want that! Do you really think that guy would be sulking up in heaven going, "No one remembered my birthday" with his party hat drooping? Of course not. There is nothing that happens during any winter holiday that cannot happen any other time during the year, atmospheric events notwithstanding. So, this year, I urge you to take a stand against mindlessly going through the same joyless motions. Do something for yourself. Decide for yourself what and when you will celebrate. Because mass holidays always outlive personal significance, and the only celebrations that have real meaning are the ones that are important to you as an individual.
There are many who would remind you to remember the reason for the season. While you're rushing around buying gifts for people you don't know or don't like but will force yourself to socialize with, it can be difficult to remember that this time of year is not about depression, bankruptcy, and merciless self-flagellation. But there doesn't seem to be any real consensus about the reason for this season, does there? Is it a season of giving? Why only have one season for that? If we are going to give gifts and spend time with our families, why must we wait until the end of the year to do it? Of course, there's always the possibility that Christmas, in particular, has something to do with the birth of a deity. I think we all know the problems with that story. Personally, regarding the nativity of messiahs, I'd rather say that this is a season to celebrate the wearing of brown shoes.
But when you look at it and are honest with yourself, you have to admit that there is no reason for the season. We celebrate because of tradition, because of social pressure, and, that being true, we aren't really celebrating at all. I'm sure a great number of us are still clinging to orthodoxy, but I'd wager to say that the majority of us do what we do this time of year because everyone else does it. The image has become more important than the referent. If you want to celebrate the birth of a god, you can do that all year round. I'm sure he would want that! Do you really think that guy would be sulking up in heaven going, "No one remembered my birthday" with his party hat drooping? Of course not. There is nothing that happens during any winter holiday that cannot happen any other time during the year, atmospheric events notwithstanding. So, this year, I urge you to take a stand against mindlessly going through the same joyless motions. Do something for yourself. Decide for yourself what and when you will celebrate. Because mass holidays always outlive personal significance, and the only celebrations that have real meaning are the ones that are important to you as an individual.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Turn Out The Lights! The Party's Over!
So, all week the NFL was talking about Jets-Pats 2, as the Jets had the best defense and had already beat the Patriots early in the season. Patriots were ranked 32nd in the league in defense and there are only 32 teams in the league. The game was expected to be really close, most odds has the Patriots winning, but not by much.
In the cold weather of Foxborough, Massachusetts the Jets came North to play a game in which they looked like they had the worst defense, Jets quarterback Mark Sanchez picked off three times. 45-3 was the final score as the Patriots beat the Jets at home. Patriots now are on top of the AFC East.
Now the ironic thing isn't just the ranks of the team, but the Jet's head coach Rex Ryan had some really great comments on the Pats. He swore his team was better. He believed his team would beat the Patriots. Well, Karma bit him right on the rear. To summarize, for a Pats fan, this was a great night!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Who Do We REALLY Want to Call?
Ghostbusters III. There's buzz. It's out there. With the recent success of Ghostbusters: The Game, there's renewed interest in the franchise we all love. Rumors swirl about the script, a new team of ghostbusters, and the ever-reluctant Bill Murray's role. I won't address those here. What I intend to address is this question: what are we really looking for from Ghostbusters III?
I loved Ghostbusters: The Game, and I anticipated something of a revival for the franchise when it sold well, but I didn't do so with relish. Of late, we have seen a cavalcade of reboots and remakes tromping through theaters, with original properties being buried beneath other directors' visions for films, many of which were already classics and just fine as they were, and the longer this trend has gone on the less money I have wanted to spend at the movies. Films, it seems, are being cranked out not because they are based on novel ideas and not even because of overwhelming demand, but because of earning potential. Alvin and the Chipmunks, Herbie, The A-Team, The Smurfs, even my beloved Transformers have been resurrected on the altar of the almighty dollar, not to mention Yogi Bear, which stars Dan Aykroyd (who should really know better). Is this what we want for Ghostbusters?
It wasn't because of the fact that it was tied to any preexisting property that the first Ghostbusters was so wildly successful. The film had magic. It had a great cast, it was written well, paced well, and well-directed. It also came along during a period of time when creativity was being, in large part, celebrated by audiences and the film industry alike - a time when a comedy could get by on its intellectual merits and didn't have to wallow in vulgarity or appeal to the lowest common denominator to find an audience. It also happened at a time when the principal stars were still up-and-coming to some degree and of a different mindset. The film was untrod land, new comedic territory for a talent like Bill Murray to explore. Now, I'm sorry to say, it's old. There are hallmarks, familiar beats to hit, an established style to attempt to adhere to. Any attempt at making a sequel necessitates a reinterpretation of certain elements of a film's style that arose organically, without any constraints on how they could be defined. This is exquisitely difficult, and it is why sequels fail so often. Add to this the current climate, in which art is looked at askance by those who think so little of the moviegoing audience that they think it much safer to pander to them. In brief: do we want Ghostbusters III to be another Blues Brothers 2000?
I want more Ghostbusters, there's no doubting it. But I can no more doubt that than I can the fact that the first Ghostbusters film is unlikely ever to be surpassed by a sequel, even if all the same pieces are put into place. Ghostbusters, like Queen or the Beatles, was a bolt of lightning, and the process of trying to recreate it may turn out something exciting and fun, but I maintain that this will always feel shallow when we watch the original. I want more Ghostbusters, but I don't want that franchise dragged into the modern era, which has no respect for such artful films.
Ghostbusters has what we're looking for, and it wasn't given those things by people who were trying to build on something that already worked once. So who do we really want to call? Ghostbusters, of course. And, if it happens to be on AMC some night, maybe Ghostbusters 2.
I loved Ghostbusters: The Game, and I anticipated something of a revival for the franchise when it sold well, but I didn't do so with relish. Of late, we have seen a cavalcade of reboots and remakes tromping through theaters, with original properties being buried beneath other directors' visions for films, many of which were already classics and just fine as they were, and the longer this trend has gone on the less money I have wanted to spend at the movies. Films, it seems, are being cranked out not because they are based on novel ideas and not even because of overwhelming demand, but because of earning potential. Alvin and the Chipmunks, Herbie, The A-Team, The Smurfs, even my beloved Transformers have been resurrected on the altar of the almighty dollar, not to mention Yogi Bear, which stars Dan Aykroyd (who should really know better). Is this what we want for Ghostbusters?
It wasn't because of the fact that it was tied to any preexisting property that the first Ghostbusters was so wildly successful. The film had magic. It had a great cast, it was written well, paced well, and well-directed. It also came along during a period of time when creativity was being, in large part, celebrated by audiences and the film industry alike - a time when a comedy could get by on its intellectual merits and didn't have to wallow in vulgarity or appeal to the lowest common denominator to find an audience. It also happened at a time when the principal stars were still up-and-coming to some degree and of a different mindset. The film was untrod land, new comedic territory for a talent like Bill Murray to explore. Now, I'm sorry to say, it's old. There are hallmarks, familiar beats to hit, an established style to attempt to adhere to. Any attempt at making a sequel necessitates a reinterpretation of certain elements of a film's style that arose organically, without any constraints on how they could be defined. This is exquisitely difficult, and it is why sequels fail so often. Add to this the current climate, in which art is looked at askance by those who think so little of the moviegoing audience that they think it much safer to pander to them. In brief: do we want Ghostbusters III to be another Blues Brothers 2000?
I want more Ghostbusters, there's no doubting it. But I can no more doubt that than I can the fact that the first Ghostbusters film is unlikely ever to be surpassed by a sequel, even if all the same pieces are put into place. Ghostbusters, like Queen or the Beatles, was a bolt of lightning, and the process of trying to recreate it may turn out something exciting and fun, but I maintain that this will always feel shallow when we watch the original. I want more Ghostbusters, but I don't want that franchise dragged into the modern era, which has no respect for such artful films.
Ghostbusters has what we're looking for, and it wasn't given those things by people who were trying to build on something that already worked once. So who do we really want to call? Ghostbusters, of course. And, if it happens to be on AMC some night, maybe Ghostbusters 2.
Bring Me The Wookie!
So, i'm John, new guy to this site. So who's ready for Pats-Jets 2010 2? Am I the only Patriots fan here? Rex Ryan says to bring him Solo and the Wookie (Tom Brady). He's gonna get beat down like the Death Star. The rebels shall win!
PKE Meter Launching?!
This Wednesday, December 1, 2010, Matty launches the first of the Ghostbuster movie prop replicas. The PKE Meter. True to scale and with fancy lights, this gadget is perfect for anyone looking for a holiday gift for themselves.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The Real GhostBoxers
Hero here. Not much on the UK side of things to report as far as Ghostbuster goings on, but I did find these on my travels.
Available at Primark stores for £5 (approx $8.01 USD). As you can also see, they have other boxer shorts decorated in 80's iconography.
Available at Primark stores for £5 (approx $8.01 USD). As you can also see, they have other boxer shorts decorated in 80's iconography.
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