Hinga dinga dergon, everyone!
Just when I was about to go downtown and get some more giant paper, I realized that it was one of those special days that one has to celebrate. Or at least honor in one's blog.
Today is Leif Erikson Day. Who is Leif Erikson, you might ask? If you are one of those people, fuck off, I don't want to talk to you. I guess that makes telling you that Leif Erikson was one of the first Europeans to set foot in North America rather pointless now, but there you have it. That's right, today is the day that we celebrate the Norse in all of us. Or Swedes. Or Danes. Or Finns. Or Lapps. Or Icelandic. Christ, there's a lot of Scandinavian folk.Anyway, this is a particularly popular holiday in the northern tier of states in the midwest, where lots of folks with Scandinavian ancestors live. People who live in places like Minnesota and Wisconsin are probably already drinking mead out of great pewter goblets and wearing hats with horns and molesting bar wenches at every other turn. Dandle a few on your legs for me, boys. Nothing says Happy Leif Erikson day like getting drunk and pillaging. Smashing things with a giant hammer and riding a horse with eight legs is optional (but still damned fun).
How does this pertain to me? It doesn't, much, except that my mother's side of the family takes their name (Ormsby) from a Viking named Orm(e) who set up shop in Scotland and called it home in one of the many Viking invasions of the British Isles. This particular Orm(e) was from around 930-940, as far as I can tell, from the genealogical work I did a few years ago. Also, my high school mascot was the Viking, and our bitter rival was the Northfield Norsemen. Way to be original, you Wabash-county sacks of shit. I hope you all contract syphilis while banging your sisters. More like the Northfield Douchebags. Heh...douchebags.Anyway, feel free to wish anyone you see a Happy Leif Erikson, especially if they're tall, blond, bearded and caught up in the middle of a berserker rage. Also acceptable to wish someone a happy birthday if they are blonde, chesty and wearing a very small breastplate. Or if they're an opera singer. If you don't, they might strike you down with their speaw and magic hewmet. Spear and magic helmet? Magic hewmut! Magic helmet.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get more giant paper. Uhhhhhhhh...
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Happy Leif Erikson Day!
October 9, 2008Posted by MJenks at 11:29 AM 12 comments
I Think I'm Done
October 7, 2008Here's something that really bothers me, especially when I've invested a serious chunk of time getting into a story: when the story is suddenly changed wholesale. Some of you may know what I'm getting at, but for those of you who do something better with their Monday nights (like watch football or bare-knuckle fight hobos for nickels at the local bar or scratch your ass), I'll expound upon my vitriol.
This whole thing with Heroes is just...blegh. See, first off, they started out with the whole story of how people were changing over time and now they're getting these abilities. Sure, I think I've heard that plot somewhere before, but at least it was consistent. It wasn't just that one day someone woke up and suddenly could fly, or some such shit as that. Okay, I thought, perhaps this will turn out to be alright, so I watched and generally enjoyed the first season. The second season focused way too much on Hiro, who I find terribly annoying. I've met Japanese people, and they're not all mock-ups of anime characters. Now we've come to the third season and now suddenly, no one was born with these powers, but they were given these powers through genetic manipulation. Sure, I can suspend my disbelief for so long to try and get by that. Genetic manipulation is a very common theme in science-fiction and, to an extent, we can insert genes into bacteria and we can knock genes out in almost anything, and we can synthesize DNA and proteins/enzymes. Hooray for science! I'm fine with all of that. The thing that irks me is that the whole premise for the show has changed radically in that now people aren't evolving these powers, they were given them by power-mad sociopaths at "The Company". No thanks. But wait, it's better. From the snippet of the "formula" we've seen from when Hiro (in eye-rolling, predictable fashion) looked at the piece of paper with half of the formula drawn on it, the magic bullet that gives these powers is a molecule featuring several fused cyclic ethers. Really? Brevetoxin, the culprit in red tide, is the thing that gives people powers? Huh. Funny, I thought it bound up your ion channels and killed you.
That's not even reflecting the plot holes in the story. Like, for instance, is one of Maya's powers, to go along with the black tears thing, the ability to suddenly go from being unable to speak any English at all to now being able to speak perfect, accent-free English? The baddest of the bad guys manage to escape from this mysterious "Level 5" and are on the prowl as a team of evil characters with incredibly strong powers, and they're captured by a guy with no powers at all after he gives up his gun? Weak. Also, what the hell happened to Kristen Bell?
There was this whole "Oh, Elle, you're so powerful but you're untapped and untrained" and then her father (with one of the lamest powers of all) gets killed and now she's just disappeared? Nice. Jumping back and forth between the future and the past is also annoying me. The Petrelli Brothers are suddenly turning into the Summers brothers. Is their dad out running through space playing the part of a space pirate, too? Plus, we get it: Hayden Panetierre is hot, does that mean we have to shove the camera down her shirt at every turn of the plot? I'm not even that put off by her being evil in the future--though I do wonder at the whole dark hair and squinty eyes making someone evil bend. She's also a piss-poor shot.
Also, I think Peter Petrelli brings shame to the character of Synch from Generation-X. What the hell ever happened to Synch? Someone fill me in.
Anyway, the whole thing is a disaster of Cubs post-season proportions. There's not a compelling storyline that makes me want to watch. I might tune in next week, or I might not (depends on how many hobos I can bare knuckle box or if my left cheek has an itch). Overall, the whole story has become meh at best, and this time they don't have the writer's strike to blame for the coming apocalypse.
Actually, if they wrote Apocalypse into the story, things might get a lot better.
Posted by MJenks at 9:13 AM 12 comments
Review Time: The Dark Knight
July 20, 2008I was afraid that, when I saw all the promotional posters with the Joker and the "Why so serious?" catchphrase, that we'd get a lot more of the same zany, madcap, crazy, where-does-he-get-all-those-beautiful-toys, Superfriends Joker.
However, as someone put it last night, Jack Nicholson was Jack Nicholson; Heath Ledger was the Joker.
I had heard, going in, that Ledger could be up for a posthumous Oscar and all that. Yeah, yeah, I thought. But, not only did he capture the Joker, he also captured the two levels of the Joker. There's the wise-cracking, smartass Joker, and then there's the nobody crosses me because I'm an insane criminal mastermind who will kill you if you try Joker. Ledger was able to play both parts perfectly.
The best thing was that he didn't dominate the screen and demand everyone's attention. Instead, he sort of slunk onto the screen and then performed, his character growing with each scene, going from an unknown entity to being the creature who held 30 million people in terror within Gotham City.
Here's another thing: there was actual tension built throughout the film. There was constantly a thought of "What next?" Yeah, I could see where things were going and all, but never at any point was I sitting back thinking, "Alright, here we go." There was drama, there was tension, and there were plenty of "Oh wow" moments. I'll just say that Christopher Nolan pulled a couple of excellent bait-and-switch moments.
I think this is the movie that Spider-Man 2 wanted to be. But where Peter Parker is always going to be a whiny little punk, Bruce Wayne is dark and contemplative. Christian Bale has pretty much become my favorite Batman, though I will admit his voice in Batman form is a little...off. I guess I was spoiled by Kevin Conroy in animated form for all those years. Still, when Bruce Wayne struggles with himself, it's believable and not pouty.
Aaron Eckhart did an excellent job as Harvy Dent. So as I don't ruin the ending for anyone who hasn't seen it, his performance throughout was spot on, playing the counterpoint to Christian Bale's Batman. The interaction between the two on and off the screen with one another was well-written and well-performed.
Maggie Gyllenhaal and Gary Oldman are also good in their roles, but I still love that Morgan Freeman watches over all of Wayne Enterprises and still delivers the best comedic line in the movie.
Still, in the end, everything comes down to the Joker and Batman, and the story and the performances do not let the viewer down. As I said before, Bale does an excellent job toeing the line between caped crusader and masked vigilante, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. Ledger brings to life a terrifying, monstrous Joker and fulfills the hyperbole surrounding his final performance. It's difficult for a movie to live up to all the hype that surrounds it in this day and age, but The Dark Knight does so, delivering an excellent action movie that tickles the fanboy in all of us.
I'll also pop in, here at the end, that I really liked the Watchmen trailer that popped up right before the movie. Clearly, that is the Head of the Class of the previews, and I hope that the movie does not let down. Hopefully, like Batman, it delivers.
The Day the Music Died
March 4, 2008So...last year, I was a little premature in my mourning of the post-Favre era in Green Bay. I'll admit it. I was wrong. In fact, Favre came back just the way I would have wanted him to: breaking Marino's records and taking the Packers back to respectability once more. Okay, fine, he lost to the Bears twice and set the all-time interceptions record along the way to shoving Marino aside.
I waited until later in the day to say anything about it (I'm sure my friends have checked in more than once, just to see if I said anything), mostly because I wanted to be sure this was the real thing. Honestly, I don't think the re-signing of Randy Moss to the Patriots had anything to do with his decision. Maybe a small amount. Who knows, other than Brett and maybe DeAnna. Still, it's not like his legacy will be tarnished. I know people all over the place are taking a moment to sit back and say "About fucking time, you bastard" and "Now you and Madden can make out all year long". Yeah, great. Those people can kiss the meatiest part of my ass.
I understand the anti-Favre sentiment, though. He's the kind of guy who, if he doesn't play for your team (or worse, he plays for your rival!), then you can't stomach him. If he was the Bears quarterback, I'd despise him. But, he wasn't. He was the Packers' quarterback, and for 16 years, he gave us (Packers fans) a helluva ride. I'll be thankful for that, for all the highs, for all the gunslinging gridiron adventures, for all the touchdowns, shovel passes, ill-conceived scrambles, sacks and interceptions. I'll be thankful for it all because, dammit, whenever you saw Brett running out of that tunnel, you thought deep in the back of your mind that you had a chance to win the game. And that's what a favorite player should make you do whenever he steps on the field.
So thanks, Brett. Thanks for a lot of fun. You'll be missed, even by those people who heaved a heavy sigh of relief when you finally hung 'em up. You came in a Hawk, but you'll always be a Packer. Sit back on a creekside some where and eat some crawfish and drink some beer. You've earned it.
Here's a link dump for some of the things I've read today:
Crown Of Thistles: Good-bye, Brett
Homebrew and Chemistry: Finally!
Scribe at Blackridge: #4
Foul Balls: Favre Retired...for Serious This Time
Deadspin: Making Peace With Favre's Final Days
Deadspin: Brett Favre Retires. Seriously, This Time.
Rumors and Rants: Goodbye, Archnemisis
Fanhouse: Favre's Retirement Similar to Patrick Roy's?
Cobra Brigade: Brett Favre Retired
850 the Buzz: Favre's Packer Days are Over, but What about His Career?
NFL.com: Favre Calls End to Career after 17 Seasons
I stuck mainly with blogs on this one, because they're funnier to read. I tossed in the NFL.com link for "journalistic integrity" (Fuck you, Kornheiser). If you have a blog and feel like you'd like a link on my site, drop me a line (and trust me, if you don't want a link out of this steaming sewer of crap I call a blog, I totally understand). I might update a few tomorrow.
By the way, in case you're keeping score at home: Favre has retired, Bob Knight has retired, and Kelvin Sampson has resigned. All in the course of a month. Last I heard, Lou Pinella is firmly ensconced in Chicago. Charlie Weis? Put down the cheeseburger!
EDIT: I just learned this earlier, but long time adversary/nemesis/friend Warren Sapp also retired yesterday. Huh.
Posted by MJenks at 8:52 PM 1 comments
Labels: Brett Favre, football, heroes, sports
When I'm Wrong, I'm Wrong
January 17, 2008Apparently, yesterday, I learned that, as a scientist, I can be wrong from time to time. Shocking. So, I thought I'd own up to a few things I might have written recently that were dead-in-the-water wrong. Such as the seminal "NC State sucks!" blog from last week. In it, I incorrectly reported that Courtney Fells was out for the game against Carolina. He was in, and what an impact he had. I think he hit the shot that gave them 13 points at the half as opposed to 11. This, of course, while Carolina was hovering around 43 points. Nothing makes me smile quite like a Wolfpack beat down of epic proportions. And if that wasn't epic, then it was getting close to it. So, Wolfpack fans, sorry that I misrepresented the state of your team. Also, I'm sorry that your program is a fourth-tier team in what once was the best conference in the country. Oh, by the way, Arizona State is #22 in the land.
Also, last year about this time, I wrote about the end of an era in Green Bay. Well, I was wrong. And I couldn't be happier. Watching Favre stumble and underhand toss a pass that was able to gain the first down was in a word (said through my green-and-gold filter) awesome. The snowball throwing was a nice touch. And though I won't make any bold predictions about this weekend's game, I will remind a certain quarterback that it doesn't get down to 8 degrees in the bayou. Oh wait, that's both of the quarterbacks. So, I'll just kindly ask Eli to return to the Eli of old. But, hey, thanks for beating the Cowboys. Not that I was afraid of them, it's just that I'm sick of seeing Tony Romo. Anyway, you should all know who I'm rooting for on Sunday night.
Aside from the Colts choking it at home last weekend, it was a pretty good sports weekend for the Jenks household. My dreams of a Colts/Packers Super Bowl probably went up in smoke when Dwight Freeney went down with the injury, but oh well. Here's to hoping that the Patriots' D turns him into Philip "Belichek's Bitch" Rivers this weekend. Mouthy little shit. If the Colts could have gotten any pass rush on that arrogant little punk, the game would have been a lot different. Alas, they didn't...and now we have to hear about the inspired play of Philip Rivers with his bad knee (note, I'm not giving the booing of the Patriots fan any play, since that shit has been way over-hyped and run into the ground...yeah, they booed, but it wasn't like it was malicious, and it wasn't like it was a raining chorus coming down on her head, and she was laughing about it anyway. She wasn't booed off the field. She certainly wasn't running away crying. She was wearing a Brady jersey. Do you think she'd get booed anywhere else in the league? Jesus. Give it a rest.).
I didn't get to watch the second half of the Indiana game this weekend (nor most of the first half, since it was about ten minutes straight of commercials between the end of the SD/Ind game and the switching of the broadcast to the basketball game), but I will say (again) that I'm sick of Bruce Weber. Whine whine whine. Quack quack quack. You're an annoying little orange and blue duck. Rather than whine about the refs, maybe you should teach your kids how NOT to get beat by the likes of the mighty Tennessee State Tigers on your home court. That being said, Indiana needs to learn how to avoid letdowns on nights when Gordon's head is not fully in the game and/or the referees are calling traveling/palming really tight (which I've seen in a few games this year where they're keying on Gordon). I think their ranking is just about right, though. I can't say they're better than, like, 7, but I don't think they're worse than 12. That's just my thoughts, at least.
Posted by MJenks at 11:32 AM 1 comments
Labels: basketball, football, heroes, sports
Saying Good-Bye to a Couple of Friends
September 18, 2007A couple of people I consider "friends" passed on recently, and I haven't been able to commit my thoughts about them to this vast, wonderful electronic media yet. I use the term friends loosely--too loose, perhaps--because I did not personally know either of them, but over the years I had gotten to know them through their written word. Their books and articles and general publications had been influential on me in a variety of ways, especially when it comes to my own writing. I am, of course, speaking of Michael Jackson and Robert Jordan.
Michael Jackson was an English writer and journalist. Above all, he was a lover of beer, and this brewaphilia is how I came to know him best. He wrote The World Guide to Beer in 1977 in which he developed several terms commonly used today, both for the brewing process as well as style types of beer itself. He went on to write several articles for papers and magazines, including having a recurring column in All About Beer magazine. In fact, his column (along with K. Florian Klemp's) was the only thing I truly enjoyed reading in AAB since they revamped their format, and with Mr. Jackson's passing, I cannot find any reason to renew my subscription. On top of beer reviews, he also wrote The Malt Whisky Companion and was a discerning critic of those select libations as well. He suffered from Parkinson's Disease, and on September 30th, at 9pm (EST, I believe), a toast will be held in Michael Jackson's honor at bars, pubs, and common houses around the world. Also that night will be a benefit to help raise awareness and funds for Parkinson's research.
Robert Jordan was the author of the insanely popular Wheel of Time series. This is a series I picked up as a junior in high school...and it was already three books old by then. I ravenously devoured the books, sometimes reading them more than once (I believe I read the first five books three times). In the waning days of the summer between my senior year and my freshman year in college, I read all the books that I had once more, as a kind of finale to my childhood and adolescent years. And because I (mistakenly) thought I wouldn't have enough time for pleasure reading in college. It was in college that I switched from buying the paperbacks and going all hard cover (which I now do for all my favorite authors), because I could not wait for the year it took for the hardcover to make it to paperback. Jordan suffered from primary amyloidosis with cardio amyloidosis. Unfortunately, the final book in The Wheel of Time is only half done. He apparently dictated how the story ends to several close confidants and an "army of authors" (missed that boat, I did) will work to finish the book. It's apparently a monster, and frankly needs to be in order to wrap up all of the story. His books, especially his earlier volumes, were tremendously influential on my own stylings (I did, for a while, have a character similar to Rand al'Thor before I decided to abandon the whole central Christ figure theme in my books), and I shall miss his works, though I have been harshly critical of the middle volumes for being hundreds of pages of fluff with no meat.
Rest in peace, gentlemen. May you both enjoy a hearty ale and a good tale at the Lord's Table.
Posted by MJenks at 8:49 PM 3 comments
Ten Bold Predictions: Number Two
July 18, 2007Here it is. We're just a scant three days away from the official release of book seven, and here I am writing my penultimate prediction. I like the word "penultimate". For anyone who cares, it ranks right up there with "harbinger" as one of my favorite in the English language.
Without further ado, I'll get right to it. J.K. Rowling has said that two major characters die. She's also asked that no one let spoilers out. I haven't seen any spoilers, just the ones I'm predicting. Okay, so I guess this is further ado. Let's do this.
Prediction Two: Snape Dies!
If you've read any of the other predictions dealing with Snape (see predictions 3, 6, and 8), you know that I've pretty much pieced together his life pre-Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone from the hints and clues left in the previous novels in the set. Yeah, it wasn't tough, he's got a thing for Harry's Mom and doesn't much like his Dad because, well, we know James boned Lily at least once. We also know that Snape is a good guy playing the bad guy (he was originally bad, until Voldemort killed Lily and attacked Harry). So, why does he die among the panoply of other characters that could get offed?
Because people want him to die, that's why. And not just the fans who think that Dumbledore didn't order Snape to kill him. The other characters in the book don't like him. Not to mention, he has to do one last thing for his beloved Lily: save her son's life.
I don't think that it's so much that Snape is endeared to Harry that will cause him to sacrifice himself in order to save Harry, nor do I think that Snape truly detests Harry (though he does look an awful lot like James, which is a thorn in Snape's side). I think that what we have here is a guilt-ridden conscience that has been eating at him for 16 years or thereabouts.
We know that Snape had a thing for Lily. We also know that Snape overheard the prophecy that told of the child that would be Voldemort's undoing and promptly ran off to tell the Dark Lord all that he knew. Voldemort went off and hunted down young Harry then, with Snape in tow, killing first Harry's father and then his mother before attacking the young child. We know all of these things; they have been brought up time and again in all of the books. However, the key to Snape's character lies in his guilt over Lily's death. If he hadn't told Voldemort about the prophecy, Voldemort would not have killed Lily Potter.
So, when Harry shows up at Hogwarts, Snape is reminded of his pain. The wound has been freshly torn open, metaphorically, and Snape strikes out vehemently at Harry. Harry misinterprets this as being hatred toward himself, when it was really a reflection of Snape's self-loathing.
Despite this, we see Snape throughout the stories helping Harry rather than hindering him: the counter-hex on the broom during Quidditch the first year, Occlumency lessons (Dumbledore would not force a professor to do anything against their will, I'm convinced), NOT getting Harry expelled from Hogwarts after he used Sectum Sempura (I think that was the spell) against Malfoy. There are more instances, but these stand out readily.
But why throw his life away for a child that only reminds him of his own failures? Again, it comes back to Lily. Voldemort killed her. Probably (definitely) against Snape's wishes. Saving Harry so that he can defeat Voldemort accomplishes two things: one, it gets rid of Voldemort, hopefully forever this time and two, a little piece of Lily lives on. He has his mother's eyes, after all.
There is also probably a command/request from Dumbledore to watch over Harry and help him in the end. Dumbledore sent Snape off to protect Draco (since Draco didn't actually kill Dumbledore, or levy the attack) and keep him around until the end (Draco will end up, like Snape, turning against Voldemort...probably when Lucius Malfoy is killed for not following orders correctly) when he will be useful. His string is threaded in with Harry, Ron and Hermionie's rope as well. Not to mention, it will be one final act to prove to the world, especially those members of the Order of the Phoenix who doubt him, that Severus Snape truly had turned to the light side and was one of Dumbledore's closest confidants.
MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD, DO NOT READ FURTHER DAMN YOU!!!
Okay, so you've ignored my warning. Sobeit. Don't be pissed at me when I'm right here.
The second major character to die is Ron. He's a Weasley, and there are ten million Weasleys in the book. They're expendable characters, plus, he's a Ginger Child and all of Britain hates a Ginger Child. Okay, so that's a slight exaggeration. Sort of. But, seriously, of the three--Harry, Hermionie and Ron--he's the weakest link. Dying to protect Harry is the only thing that will make him notable in the end. He might actually die while helping to destroy a horcrux.
Initial rumors that I've heard also confirm this theory. So remember, don't hate me because I'm beautiful and because I told you about Ron going belly up. I did write in big red letters up there, after all.
Posted by MJenks at 5:44 PM 2 comments
Labels: Harry Potter, heroes, predictions, spoilers
A Tale of True Heroism
June 26, 2007I've been childless for something like three weeks now. At the beginning of June, on my daughter's last day of school, we took them up to Marietta, OH and met my mother-in-law there for dinner (at the Marietta Brewing Company, by the way) where she took the kids and we headed back down the road to North By God Carolina. Mother-in-law and children went north and west, ending up in South Bend eventually, where they hung out for a couple of weeks. While there, my children had some swimming lessons where my daughter (who will be six on Friday) learned how to swim underwater, without floatation devices, how to dive, all that good stuff. My son, who will be three in July, learned how to not be afraid of the water. I suspect he was easily coaxed into the water by Miss Abby, his swim instructor.
Anyway, for the past few days, my children have been in Oklahoma, visiting their great-grandparents (my wife's grandparents through her mom's side). The great-grandparents have a pool, which is one of the main reasons why the kids went through swim lessons, so that they could swim safely in the pool.
This sets the scene. And now for the action.
I came home on Friday and sat in my chair, and my wife came over and sat near me. If you've ever seen Knute Rockne: All American (and if you haven't, I only ask, why haven't you subjected yourself to this fine piece of American film???) there's a scene at the end where Knute's wife has a chill about the same time that Knute's plane goes down in a Kansas farmer's field. That's kind of the look my wife had as she approached me. She worried that the little boy would fall into the pool and no one would know and then we'd have no more little boy. I told my wife not to worry as our daughter would watch over him, and she asked what she could do, and I told her that she could scream for help.
I think you see where this is going. But I'll finish the story.
We call the kids later that night, and my wife talks to my daughter and nothing big happens. Then she talks to the little boy and he says "Sissy saved me." To which my wife responded "What?" And he follows up with "My life. Sissy saved my life."
At this point, my wife says, "That's nice honey...could you please put Grandmommy on the phone?"
My mother-in-law quickly starts to explain.
Apparently, after dinner, people weren't really paying attention to the little boy and he decided he wanted to go swimming, so he just walked down the steps and into the pool. Without floatation devices. A few seconds later, my mother-in-law hears my daughter yelling "Grandmommy, help me. I need help. Help me." My mother-in-law looks over and sees my daughter in the pool with my son. She has her arm wrapped around her chest and is holding his head above water so that he can breathe, and she is back kicking toward the side so that they can get out.
Well.
The only thing I could take from this was that I could tell my wife that I was right. Fortunately, my daughter was more proactive than just yelling for help. She apparently dove in, went underwater to get him, and dragged him back to the side like a lifeguard. I don't know if she was taught this during her swim classes or not, or if she just acted on instinct alone. Either way, it was pretty fucking amazing for a five-year-old to do. I'm guessing not a lot of twenty-five year olds would do that.
If it seems like I'm bragging, you're damned right I am. This is one of those things that I felt I should write down, lest my memory fail me later in life. Also, my daughter will someday be able to read AND work the internet (she does both now, but not together), and I don't want her to think that her father is just some fat, drunken lout who tries to poison his lab mates with toxic gas and has issues with HR and uses the F-word way too much. I mean, she knows that anyway. This way she can know that I really do pay attention and can be proud of her. Plus, this is another way of reminding my son that he owes his life to his sister, and being a Catholic family, you can bet this will come up time and time again as both children age.
All comments relating to Pamela Anderson and slow-running will result in a healthy ass-kicking from a father who is already a tad overprotective. You've been warned. Punk.
Posted by MJenks at 11:29 AM 4 comments
America's Epic (???)
May 29, 2007If there was one thing I learned while I toiled through the labors of my sophomore year at St. Joe's, it was 'What makes an epic'? In fact, that could have been the subtitle for the classes designated Core III and Core IV. St. Joe has a requirement that you must take a certain set of core classes (cleverly referred to as the 'core system') which helps a student become more rounded and eliminates the need for a science major to take art history to fulfill the degree requirements at the school. Many colleges around the country have adopted a similar style (I think Notre Dame might...but I'm not certain) of requirements for their undergrads, and on the whole, it's a very worthy, very nice class system. Everyone is tossed in together, so you are going through this with your classmates and friends. At the same time, Cores V and VI (the Science Cores) are easy three credit hour As for people like yours truly, who were science majors to begin with and basically phoned in the course.
But, I digress. This is not a discussion of the merits of the Core System as applied by St. Joe's (although, I will take one last chance to wander off topic and mention that the on-campus bar is called Core XI, the core you take AFTER you've taken all the others...very clever, those undergrads). This is a discussion of the epic saga type of story.
One of the things we studied in Core III and IV was how nations and people could identify (and be identified) by their epic stories. The Babylonians had Gilgamesh, the Scandinavians had Beowulf (who introduced it to English when they invaded), the Greeks had both the Iliad and the Odyssey, the Jewish people had the Torah, the Romans had the Aeneid, the French had The Song of Roland, and the British (including both the Angles and Saxons as well as the native Britons, Scots and Picts) had King Arthur. There are others, but you get the point, and I don't need to continue naming them all.
With one exception, and I'll toss that in here: in the early Twentieth Century, an English scholar by the name of John Ronald Reuel Tolkien decided that Beowulf and King Arthur weren't sufficient enough for the English people, and so he undertook the task of writing a modern epic for the Brits. Nearly a hundred years later, it was set to film, grossed millions, pissed off several fans who felt the stories needed to be translated to the screen verbatim, and allowed bumper sticker makers everywhere to relate the works of Tolkien to the current regime in power in America. I, of course, speak of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. The notion that we can still, in this modern age, relate to epic stories is very important, especially relating to this post.
There are certain core themes that appear time and time again in epic stories. There's, of course, the brave hero: Odysseus, Aeneas, Beowulf, Gilgamesh, Arthur... The hero, most often reluctantly, will undertake a task that seems greater than themselves, often with the aid of a mentor or advisor in the beginning, but later has to go through the trials and tribulations by themselves. The task usually involves the destruction of a great evil, and more often than not involves a long, arduous journey for the hero before he ultimately arrives victorious in the end. And, of course, there's the question of morality. At some point, the hero must make a decision, and it's usually an internal struggle, as to whether they will ultimately do good or take the easier, quicker path and turn to evil. This is often referred to as the "tragic flaw".
There are also a few other things that go into the story: mystical powers, enchanted weaponry, heavy symbolism, and poetic prose/poetic language. These don't necessarily factor into the story, but are ways of devoloping the plot and describing the action and characters in the epic. One should remember that these stories, more often than not, were told around a campfire or sung by a bard for all to hear, and were often recited from memory, thus the need for symbols and poetic language and all.
I've pointed out how several nations and peoples can be identified (and identify with) the epics that are tied to their cultures. However, in America, we do not have an epic saga that we can identify with. Or do we? This is one of the questions that was raised during my sophomore year classes, and the argument was laid forth that the tales of the Old West were as close as we'd ever get to having our own epic story (indeed, the Western is a uniquely American film genre; despite the rise of the Spaghetti Westerns, the action was still set in the American West). Is this true? Is this the only epic story that we'll ever get here in this country?
Let me try something here. I'll write a brief description of the epic of Beowulf: Beowulf took his sword and struck down the evil Grendal, the embodiment of evil, and thus freed the world of his darkness. Good, right? Concise, gets the point across, and pretty much has all the makings of an epic story right there, no?
Let's try substituting some more familiar names and see what happens.
Luke took his lightsaber and struck down Darth Vader, the embodiment of evil, and thus helped bring about the fall of the Galactic Empire and its oppresive reign.
Yep. That works, too, doesn't it?
Now, I've been pretty critical of George Lucas in the past for the vile things he spewed forth onto the screen starting in 1999. I felt that the Star Wars prequels could have been done a lot better (and I still contend that). It was the completion of the epic, however, and so those stories were important. Still, they could have been done a lot better.
Last night, the History Channel ran a program about the things that influenced the making of Star Wars and how it fits into the epic story category. It was, over all, a very fascinating premise and it was very well done. We saw how both Annakin Skywalker and Luke played the roles of the heroes, but where Annakin failed at his internal struggle of good versus evil, Luke succeeds. Ultimately, it is Annakin who destroys the evil in the galaxy, and then opts to die and thus eliminate all of the darkness from the galaxy (as we see it). While Luke is the Epic Hero, Annakin turns out to be the Tragic Hero who spends a long time as the embodiment of evil in the galaxy (the same relationship exists with Frodo and Gollum).
As I watched, it was evident that all of the pieces were there for the epic story: the hero, Luke and Annakin; the great evil, the Empire, Palpatine and Vader; the mystic power, the Force; the mentor, Obi-Wan and Yoda; the enchanted weapon, Luke's lightsaber(s); the symbolism, Vader's mask and outfit, Palpatine's cowl. All that we're missing is the poetic language.
The only reason we don't see the poetic language is that we aren't reading the story, we're watching it. However, I defy anyone to dispute lines such as "Do, or do not, there is no try" or "I am a Jedi, like my father before me" or even "I love you"/"I know" are not poetic in their nature (especially since the last showed up twice in two different points in the story). They may not be written or delivered in iambic pentameter, but that doesn't make them any less poetic.
Overall, the comparison of Star Wars as the modern American epic versus the ancient epics holds up. One important thing that I felt was done very well was that people outside of the Star Wars universe made all the comments on the films and their role as the American epic. George Lucas' image from college was seen once in the show. None of the cast or crew were interviewed, either. Everyone who commented on anything was from outside of the making and the presentation of the story, and this lent an extra bit of credence to the claim that this is America's epic. All of those interviewed found roles for all of the characters in Star Wars as applied to traditional epics. The fact that they could even find a role for Jar Jar really impressed me (and amused me, as he was related to the Parasite often seen in Greek theatre). Kevin Smith was inciteful and funny, and I wish that there would have been more of his interviews, but I won't complain. I will say that Peter Jackson did a good job of not relating any of the symbols, characters and themes found in Star Wars to the Lord of the Rings, although they are clearly there (as there are with all epic stories).
Once the show was finished, I turned the tv off and sat there in my chair for probably a good thirty minutes, reflecting on my own works. I began to immediately start classifying all of my characters into the archetypes listed during the show (I focused more on the Hundred Kings Saga, as this is uniquely my own epic...although my wife might claim that Zumsticks would be my epic). The only thing that I could not find in my story was the comic relief characters, and I began to realize that the inclusion of someone who provides emotional relief could help make the rest of the characters seem more real. That being said, I could pick a couple of characters who might best be the C-3PO/R2-D2 or Merry/Pippen of my story, but even they play ever-increasingly dramatic roles in the story. I still haven't made a decision, but it is something that I will have to think about as I wrap up The Boar War (where Skulk the fox is my comic relief), ship it out for review and pick the Hundred Kings stories back up.
Okay, I'm rambled too much, but I've been quiet on the blogosphere recently. I will post again later tonight to explain more about the silence. And yes, it does involve a video game, but no, that's not the main reason. By the way, if you're a Star Wars fan or just interested in what I've blogged onto the screen here, I highly recommend watching the History Channel program. As I said, it was very well done and rather insightful on many accounts.
Another Sad Remembrance
April 24, 2007I promise, I'll pick up some more lighthearted posts, but while we were all in shock and dismay over the happenings at Va. Tech (I saw today that People and such rags are ca$hing in on the tragedy...well done) and my quick memorials over Johnny Hart and Kurt Vonnegut, I completely missed that Brant Parker also died, eight days after friend and partner Johnny Hart. Mr. Parker was 86. He died of complications due to Alzheimer's disease.
This would complete the old adage of "they die in threes" as these three men (Hart, Vonnegut and Parker) were all peripheral heroes of mine. I did not necessarily idolize their work, but I certainly did appreciate it, or them, as is the case with Vonnegut.
Much like B.C., a large amount of Wizard of Id's humor was based on puns. A lot of time there would be glib political humor worked in, as well. One thing that always amused me about the strip was the Wizard himself; as a chemist, you can probably imagine why I enjoy him most of all.
For the past ten years, Brant Parker's son, Jeff, has been drawing the strip (and doing an admirable job, I must add) and will continue to do so. This is good news as I can continue to enjoy this sort of old-school humor that these two strips embrace every morning when I should be doing something...like updating my notebook or some such.
Careful readers might be able to spot a tribute I had 'created' to both Hart and Parker, when and if King of Shadows is every published.
Posted by MJenks at 8:48 PM 0 comments
While We're All Somber...
April 19, 2007...I thought I'd write a little bit about a couple of legends and personal heroes that we've lost over the past few weeks: Kurt Vonnegut and Johnny Hart.
Vonnegut died April 11th at the age of 84. I've never taken the time to sit down and read an entire Vonnegut novel, but I'm familiar enough with his work that I've always admired it. One of the themes that constantly appeared in his works was what we now would call 'science fiction', but was largely looked at as being just a bit 'out there' at the time of publishing. In this way, I feel he was one of the pioneers of the genre; perhaps not a founding father like H.G. Wells or Jules Verne (and definitely not THE father, like Tolkien is considered for modern fantasy literature), but he was unquestionably before his time. Perhaps one of the most interesting concepts for a book that I've ever heard of was the plotline for Timequake, which was recommended to me many years ago and I still haven't picked up. However, once I'm finished with Tad Williams' newest offering (and writing my own...), I'm planning on finally following through on the recommendation.
Vonnegut was born and raised in Indianapolis, which is one of the reasons that I admire him. Despite the city and the state's clear difference with his political and religious beliefs, he always loved Indianapolis and Indiana. When asked, after living in New York for over 30 years, if he was a New Yorker or a Hoosier, he quickly responded "Hoosier" before the rest of the question was finished. I feel much the same way. I may have left the state, but the state has never left me. His pithy social commentary as well as his well-planned stories has made him an icon. But, my favorite memory of Vonnegut will always be his ability to make fun of himself in the movie "Back to School." I'm not a big Rodney Dangerfield fan (of course, no one was...zing!), but when Vonnegut showed up in the movie and then wrote a paper about himself (which subsequently got a failing grade), it showed that here was a man considered by many to be a social and cultural icon who could still come down out of the tower for a while and take a jab at himself, which I think is an applaudable, terribly human quality.
Johnny Hart died the night before Easter. Fittingly, he was sitting at his drawing board, working on another comic. He was 76. Hart was creator of two of my all time favorite daily comics: B.C. and Wizard of Id, the latter being a co-creation with friend Brant Parker. I've appreciated both of them over the years for their sociopolitical commentary as well as their bad puns. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a sucker for a truly offal pun. The stinkier, the better. Ahem.
Hart might best be remembered for his strongly Christian cartoons that would run around the major Christian holidays of Christmas and Easter, especially in the Sunday papers. Often, it was amazing to see how well a story could be put together in a few colored frames. B.C. was often more overtly Christianed in theme. I'm not sure if he meant it to be that way, since the cast of B.C. should have been alive over a million years before Christ showed up, making it all the more ironically amusing. However, even now, I can't make it through the day properly without first checking out the latest installment of both B.C. and Wizard of Id. Fortunately, Hart had several strips already drawn and saved and his family has promised to help keep the strip going strong, even in the wake of his death, so I can go on for several more years drinking my morning coffee and smiling over today's punny comic.
Here's to Vonnegut and Hart: two men who will definitely be missed around here. *pours out a little beer for both*
Posted by MJenks at 8:16 AM 0 comments