The Eternal Recurrence

Sine knew how easy it was to get ahold of some things, but even she surprised herself sometimes.

"Daniel, for the LAST time, get over here. I need to make sure your fillings aren't ferrous metal."

"Fuck no," growled Daniel, hunched in a corner. "I'm not letting you stick lasers in my mouth! I had enough of that shit at Rutledge!"

Carol rolled her eyes. "Ugh, here we go. You want me to go fetch him?"

"Yes. I'd rather be sure that when we do the MRI scans, we don't accidentally pull his teeth out."

Carol nodded, and then walked over to where Daniel was crouching, hackles raised and spikes drawn. She knelt down next to him and looked him dead in the eyes.

"Look, Danny," she began, in her sweetest voice. "If you be a good boy and let Sine check your teeth-"

"Keep that shit up," snarled the older man, "and I'm gonna-"

"-and I'll pay for next week's Jack. Interest free."

The spikey-haired mutant was in the chair in two seconds. The process was, thankfully, just boring.

"There. See? Now, if you want to be REALLY safe, you'll get in the MRI machine and lay there still for...three hours." Sine said, flipping through some papers. "...hmmm. A sedative might be the best way..."

"Ugh, sedatives." Daniel shuddered. "I mean, it beats being strapped to the table, but I always wake up feeling like a car accident victim."

"Got any other alternatives?" was Carol's response. Daniel paused to consider this, then shrugged - an obvious no.

"I'll be honest with you, Daniel...this isn't NEEDED, but...the thing with mutations, you might be stable today, but five years from now you wake up and find you're melting. Trust me...I lived in a world with mutations that gifted superhuman powers, and was witness to a few very considerable scares. A clean medical bill NOW means something to compare it to down the line. Or if you wake up and find yourself turned into a sweater." Sine said, as she kept flipping through pages.

"...fine." Daniel got out from the chair and headed over to the MRI. And for once, he had no snarky 'but' to add to this as he lay down on the mat.

"What's our current delivery list?" Sine said, activating the machine.

"Hmmm... A crate of peanut sprouts to Pachyderma Major, fifty gallons of salt water to the Finneous system - poor guys are having a drought - some pizzas to Mr. Harold Finklemann and his family on Colony Beta and a consignment of Green Spice for the Screebles on Willus.

"Also, a rubber chicken, no name given."'

"Simple work. Simple is good. You should have been here when I had to deliver a meme. Took me seven weeks to scrub it out of my brain. Daniel, breathe deep, I'm administering the sedative." Sine said. "Well, now for three hours of nothing because he has to stay stock still. Any ideas how to pass the time?"

Carol blinks. "...how does that even work? Like, did you have to put it on a floppy disc or what?"

Daniel does as told, but grunts a little as the sedative is administered.

"Movements scrambles the image, beyond the most basic twitches. It needs to be clear. Since Daniel has such compact bones, it takes a really long time. In a few days I'll be getting my biyearly brain scan...I'll need to be under for seven hours due to the house of cards this grey matter is." Sine said, tapping her head. "At least whatever changed me was considerate enough to give me proper equipment for it."

"...well, good luck with that. Can't imagine having to sit still for seven whole hours, myself. Yeesh!" Carol said.

"Price of being...whatever I am. And having no clue what it is." Sine said.

Carol shrugs. "Well... Could always watch a movie. Wanna see what's on Sky Box Office?"

"Probably porn."

"SBO doesn't show porn!"

"Based on its most popular shows you could have fooled me."

"Hey, Danerys is cute," Carol retorted. "Sue me. Or don't, because that would be a legal nightmare."

"But since I...don't...oh dear...leak...Carol hold your breath...the sedative...drifted over here..." Sine said, sitting heavily into a chair. "Go ahead and watch TV...just watch Daniel too...this is gonna put me out for...mgrgrgfurrr..."

"Ugh, why do you do this to yourself? Wear a mask, at least! Special brain, my butt, dozing off so easily..."

"Illmakesur du complanesoonis I remember whodithuissssshhhhh..."

---

????

"The Immutable. Yes, for the sake of convenience, we'll go with that word layout."

"This is beyond foolish. Using it at all, let alone..."

"We have gone long beyond our basic behavior and even our aberrant behavior. Lunacy is now the defining norm. This is no longer a scenario where failure can be tolerated."

"But a random number?'

"Will be as likely to fail as our best agent. Show him in."

"Her, my liege."

"Whatever. She has the capabilities?"

"Last we checked..."

"Then get it in motion."

A door opening.

"...stop."

Footsteps coming to a stop.

"Remove your helmet."

Hesitation, then obediance.

"Sheena Traverse, of Triangle Delivery. You have something you want to deliver, sirs?"

Blush: Super Human

An opening note: I am writing a fair bit of this in a vague way in due to the small chance of not spoiling Watchmen if you have not read or seen it. Just so you know.

So what kind of person wants to be a superhero?

Sorry Kamala, you don't count, I'll get to why in a bit.

There are some supposed real life examples...

Words. Picture. Number ending in three zeroes. Something about value.

And their deeds are commendable, if not admirable, but half the people on the list are more colorful community activists than anything else. Only a few of them actually attempt to 'fight crime' in a vein their comic book counterparts do (I won't count wandering up and scaring people as FIGHTING crime, though it's still attempting to stop crime and that deserves credit) and you won't see them trying to throw down with criminal gangs. So, the question of applied realism is, what kind of a real life person would want to try and be a superhero in the vein of how superheroes and vigilantes are presented in comics?

This is why Kamala Khan, nee Ms. Marvel II, doesn't count. Beyond being fictional, she's an aspiring superhero in a superhero-based universe. She has legions of real life (for her) data to call on when considering such a thing (not to mention, you know, actual superpowers). Someone who lives in such a world is not going to be faced with the same developmental mindset. Watchmen asked the question of 'What kind of a person would think, want to, and be successful in such a profession in a real world scenario?'

You probably already know the answer, but let's break it down.

First of all, to seek such a position, one would have to have no faith in society's actual mechanisms to prevent crime and injustice. Fair enough, plenty of people have that. You then have to have the willpower to teach yourself how to 'overcome such things' where society itself failed (and if you lack physical talent or resources, you have to compensate with willpower EVEN MORE), as well as overcome basic fear instincts, and you have to do it under amateur trainers or, more likely, by yourself. You then have to dedicate yourself to constantly facing dangerous people, fighting through injuries, fatigue, and mental weardown, the fact that both the police and the criminals will be opposed to you if not outright after your head, and that odds are all it will take is one bit of luck from one random punk to get yourself killed (after which you'll likely be condemned and dismissed, and anyone connected to you subjected to misery and harassment, if not worse). And if you're actually successful, you have to have done all this with physical and mental gifts, explicitly the mental ones, to realize that there was probably a better way to make fuller, long-term changes, and have instead dedicated all that talent and effort to going out and fighting the scum of society in the name of making the world 'better'.

The answer, of course, is that a person who would want to be an actual comic book superhero would have to be insane, whose talents are overridden by a series of logical fallacies and emotional issues. Cut away from a world where extraordinary events are far more ordinary than our world, a superhero is pretty much a lunatic, working through their own issues rather than helping society with any great cause. If Lee's characters were human, Moore's Watchmen concept had characters who were super human, with all of humanity's traits magnified to excess. Considering how human brains can be wired, it's not surprising the negative is presented first and foremost.

But if Watchmen was solely about 'normal' people on costumes, it would be a very different story. The crux that Watchmen turns on is the other half of the superhero coin. Specifically, having superpowers, and how reality would work if applied to them. Hence, Dr. Manhattan.

Dah ba di, dah ba die.

Dr. Manhattan is the lone person with actual superpowers in the Watchmen world, and in some ways he's actually very admirable, in terms of human strength and willpower. He does not end up corrupted by his powers (and they're immense), and then there's the fact he exists at all, showing a human will so strong that he was able to survive being disintegrated (under very specific circumstances) and rebuild himself a whole new body. Moore, however, chooses to apply realism another way; Manhattan may have survived (and never become evil) because of the best of human traits, but Manhattan is no longer human. His senses have been expanded in ways incomprehensible to us; plot points suggest that Manhattan no longer experiences time in a linear fashion and is experiencing all of the events of his life at once, and even if that's not wholly accurate, his viewpoint had completely changed from interpreting light waves to being able to perceive everything in between, and at a scale no human can match. A theory about the dangers of artificial intelligence is that a lot of people think that an evolving AI evolving past humanity means 'a very smart person building a fancier gun' if the AI turns hostile towards us. What is more likely based on our own evolution and the advantage it gives us over animals, goes the theory, is that to us, the AI would be using MAGIC, as we would as incapable of understanding what it was doing as the average animal is of understanding a gun. Manhattan is a god trapped within the framework of reference of a normal man, and unlike Superman, his senses are even more potent, and worse; he can't turn them off. While a lot of inhuman god types immediately swing towards misunderstood Nietzschean concepts, Manhattan perhaps manifests as a more realistic result; incapable of caring about anything. It eventually gets to the point where Manhattan, outside of public appearances, doesn't even wear clothes, walking around naked. He simply does not see any point in doing otherwise. To him, everything is the same. Equal. There is no more adventure in life. No discovery. Everything that is and will be is all for hin, all the time.

A tragedy...and at this point, human nature will make it worse.

This fact is what the third part of the triangle of Watchmen's plot revolves around; what would happen to the world if a superman (hell, a GOD) appeared...in the middle of the Cold War, his ascension having left him with no real desire to do much of anything himself because by the nature of his perception, he's already doing everything he will ever do all at the same time? While this is a sort of a plot device, one only has to try and apply realism to that degree of superhuman power (and the effects it would likely have on the mind) to realize that such a path is the most likely one such a world would take. If Watchmen had other superhumans with lesser powers, it would be a very different story. As it stands, it is an examination of what would drive people to be 'superheroes', what it would be like to really be powerful enough to make a difference, and how the world would respond.

Watchmen is not a world in a good state. While Manhattan's presence has had positive aspects (battery-run cars due to him being able to play philosopher's stone and synthesize rare elements easily, which means less pollution), the insane advantage he has given the United States in the Cold War has left the Soviet Union feeling cornered and angry. Considering studies show that each side of said Cold War (released after it ended) fully expected the other to wipe them out and that said other side would strike first, and with a literal godly being hanging over the Russians' head who could theoretically blunt if not completely neutralize their offensive efforts and aid the return fire to completely annihilate them, the Soviet Union is rapidly approaching the point of nothing left to lose, where pride twists into the insanity of M.A.D. The old saying went 'Better dead than red'; in Watchmen, it is more accurately 'better dead than impotent red' (It will not be the only point in the story that allegories about impotence will be made; heck, one of the most famous black comedies about the Cold War revolved around impotence). As a result, the Watchmen world (set in the mid 80's) is a world of passive fatalism, as most of society has concluded on some subconscious level that Manhattan's disruptive presence is eventually going to  overturn the boat and cause everyone to drown. Its 'heroes' are either neutered and broken dolls, or black and white absolutists, with no agency to save anyone, let alone themselves. Its 'villain' might very well be its greatest hero, and the events that play out suggest that the world should just be grateful the costs were so low and that the villain was completely right. And that maybe it was all for nothing. Watchmen, as per one definition, is about failure.

And yet...

It's very easy to dismiss Watchmen as a purely cynical 'The world is fucking doomed because we're all fucking broken stupid apes' type of story; the elements that support that type of view are very strong. But what a lot of people tend to forget is that to see humanity at its best is not to always look at the Mother Teresas or the Oskar Schindlers of this world (as it is very easy to scratch the surface and discover their unfortunate traits, which has a weird effect on human brains where it will make them go 'They're not a saint, ergo they're nothing'), but to look at humanity at its absolute worst, and see where it still shines (The Christmas Truce is a good example). To dismiss Watchmen as wholly cynical nihilism is to ignore that the story is also about two damaged people finding each other, or a lunatic seeing what cast him in his form and holding back his more-than-justified urge to scratch the rage and hatred itch, even if just one time. It's to ignore a man looking into humanity at its most warped and lost, and despite being floored and metaphorically bloodied, refuse to let it change him for the worse, or a man finally realizing just how wrong his path has become and accepting the consequences of it. It's a man who's not a man who briefly remembers aspects of being a man. It's a man who in many ways has cut away everything for the sake of greater things realizing this does not mean he is no longer human (for better or for worse). Like Stan Lee's work, it is a story about human beings, at their very brightest and at their very worst, and all the myriad ways this intersects. Hell, the most prominent aspect of the story of about how complicated human beings are straddles the line between 'amazing' and 'horrible' so thoroughly that it might be impossible to tell which one it really is, beyond personal assessment. Watchmen is a dark work, it has many nasty elements, and it pulls out a few aspects of the enjoyment of comic book superheroes and shows up the things behind them we many not want to admit are there, but in the end, it's still the story of the sacrifices to try and save the world.

Hell, it even has some of the silliness, like the background minor plot point of the main character's issues with a robotic exo-suit he built (which ends in a joke so subtle most people probably need it pointed out to them), or the scene in a jail where one of the main characters is visited by The Big Figure, a crime boss in prison...and a midget. It wouldn't be out of place in any average comic about superheroes. Watchmen has its issues, but I would not consider it a wholly cynical work. It is deeply layered. It speaks of all aspects of the human condition. It is the human part of a 'super human' story (I may talk about a 'super' type later). It is, in my own opinion, be it ever so unimportant, Art.

A side note on art, while I'm here...

You cannot create art.

This opinion is about as valid as what I would consider a Jackson Pollock painting to be (as in, wholly arbitrary and personal), but this is my blog, so I'm going to write about it. I do not think Art can be created, at least not intentionally. Art just happens. Art just IS. All you can do is try and create a good work, maybe even a memorable work, and while I would normally suggest hoping for the best, in this case I think such things would be counterproductive. You cannot go into creating a work trying to make art, on any level. In my opinion, it will cause whatever artistic merit the work might have to ring false. And god knows there are enough 'artists' running around, radiating smugness and myopic arrogance about their brilliance, surrounded by sycophants and clueless hangers-on who might as well be calling a random messy room 'art', as they probably don't understand or trust themselves to try and figure out what art REALLY is. A person who does their best to craft a great work might create art. A narcissist in love with their talent can only produce works with no soul.

And hand in hand with the idea of trying to make 'art' is the idea of trying to create a work with a message. I believe such a thing falls under the same purview at art; it cannot be intentionally done without rendering the message less effective. Here, I turn to an old latin phrase I like: res ipsa loquitur, ie 'the thing itself speaks' (or 'the thing speaks for itself'); while technically a law term, I believe it also applies to virtually any argument or creative work. One should simply create a story and let any message come through organically; while it is true that there are cases where one cannot be subtle, I honestly believe they do more harm than good, especially to the message.

I took a jab at comic writer Judd Winick earlier, mainly because he's a prime example of someone being so enamored with his message he undercuts it. Winick's defining life moment of his early life was being a contestant on MTV's The Real World, where he became close friends with his roommate Pedro Zamora, a gay man afflicted with HIV which later developed to AIDS. Zamora would die less than six months after the show wrapped (and one day after the final episode of the filmed season aired). Winick would later write for DC Comics, and would place his experiences with Zamora (among other places) into his work on Green Lantern and Green Arrow, and just like with 'Hard Travellin' Heroes', it would not turn out well in the long run.

Winick's flaws, in the end, is the classic insecurity of not allowing a work to speak for itself. In Green Arrow, Winick would create the character of Mia Deardon, who would become the latest Speedy, and was also HIV positive. Fine by itself...except Winick would write Oliver Queen, a grown man, a millionaire crime fighter, who at this point in his life had actually died and come back to life, as utterly and completely clueless over what HIV and AIDS was when this was revealed (perhaps acceptable if this was written in the 80's or early 90's, but this was written in the mid-00's). Before that, Winick would write Green Lantern, where a secondary character and friend of the then-sole-Lantern, Kyle Raynor, would be revealed as gay, and several issues later become the victim of a vicious hate crime. Again, 'fine' by itself...except the assault (which Kyle would personally avenge) would affect Kyle so deeply that he would abandon Earth (his primary protective sphere, other heroes aside) and drift off into space, lost in his crushing shock and despair over the evils of humanity. While hate crimes are exceptionally vile, the fact that an experienced superhero (who had just briefly achieved godlike power and perception in a storyline just before the attack, and given it up) would be so deeply affected by it that he would basically wash his hands of his chosen heroic responsibility and wander off to try and 'make sense' of it all (never mind Kyle's other experiences as a hero by this point) is a bridge too far. While the human mind is complicated enough that the most arbitrary things can set it off, there is also the fact that Kyle was the secondary victim of the infamous event that created the 'Woman In Refrigerators' noted aspect of comics, and this was when he had just STARTED as a superhero, and that did not drive him to fly off to soul search slash brood. Kyle had not even gone through a series of events that the gay bashing could count as a 'last straw'; in fact, the immediate event before this was an act of rebirth and creation, as Raynor would begin the rebirth of the Green Lantern corps. Yet this attack drove Kyle into space, seeking answers for the great evils of humanity, and unable to face the world of his birth. All because of a hate crime.

Does this strike you as good storytelling? Or does it strike you as what Hard Travellin' Heroes was; clunky, a square peg being forced into a round hole? Winick would raise valid issues that deserve attention, but his writing would denote a fear that these issues would not be noticed unless they were shoved into the readers' face, and perhaps more irritatedly, if the main heroes of the work were  not reduced to the author's mouthpiece in complete disregard for what their characters logically should be like. The stories could still be just as easily told without such character alteration, but Winick desired above all else to get the message across, and in doing so, he provoked equal parts annoyance to any understanding, which is the absolute worst reaction a message can receive. People do not like to be lectured, and they dislike being lead around even more. The worst thing you can do for a message, in the end, is to shove it in someone's face, or worse, do so under manipulative circumstances. There are many stories of people listening to organizations like D.A.R.E make presentations over drugs in a vein only a few steps below Reefer Madness, only for young people to later experiment with minor drugs, discover the immensely negative effects do not occur, and completely dismiss DARE's still-valid message in feeling they have been lied to. A message should speak for itself, and the best way for a message to speak is for it to naturally occur in the framework of a story. Attempting to push in a message will ultimately just damage both story and message, just as attempting to create art will just ensure you don't. Moore simply attempted to do his best to explore his idea and its layers, and he would create Art. He'd do pretty well on the Message front too.

He would also destroy comics, because as I have said repeatedly, the main thrust of these articles is that everyone has their own personal interpretation of things, and that many comic-book types are insistent, maybe even desperate, to prove they are not childish. In Watchmen, they finally got their golden egg from the goose. Watchmen was not only Art, but ADULT. It was not a story for children, and by the basis of what was to come, it was not a story for a lot of comic book fans either. Unfortunately, just like how Gordon Gecko inspired legions of people to get into stocks, and how Walter White from Breaking Bad would be admired and cheered on while his wife Skyler (a FAR more sympathetic and put upon character) would be reviled, many comic book fans, and writers, would embrace its 'adult' nature...while completely and utterly misunderstanding what the hell was 'adult' about it.

And in the way of addicts, they would decide what the comic book world needed was more of it.

In reality, this is much more what comics needed. Both the character, and many people needing a giant fist to be applied to some part of their bodies.

The worst part is, even if done well...the concept was doomed to begin with. In the final column on Watchmen, how it tainted comics and how, just like Gecko and White, why so many people couldn't even begin to grasp why taking anything from Watchmen was a bad idea.

Blush: Mighty Writey

To understand Watchmen, you need to understand a few things about comics' past.

Backing into success is not unheard of. Stephen King almost threw his breakout novel, Carrie, in the trash because he felt that he, a male teacher in his thirties, had no capacity to write a novel based around the trials of teenage girls (his wife fished it out and encouraged him to finish anyway, the rest is history). George Lucas' original cut of Star Wars was a dull, boring disaster, and if it hadn't been for the skilled people with him, notably his now ex-wife, re-cutting the film, the Internet these days would not be arguing over whether or not this is stupid.

It's not. Don't be boring.

Likewise, there's Edgar Rice Burroughs, creator of Tarzan, who almost didn't create Tarzan; Burroughs was 'a failure' for the first part of his adult life (in the sense he had half a dozen jobs and either didn't like them or do well at them), and when he started writing, he sent Tarzan into the magazine he had already sold John Carter to, thinking it 'wasn't very good' and 'probably wouldn't sell'. Mixed with the fact that Burroughs had begun to doubt he wanted to be a writer, and it's easy to see that one stray different thought might have made him throw out the idea and stop writing, and hence erased one of the defining characters of fiction. The interesting thing, however, was the mindset behind Burroughs' doubts on being a writer; rather than whether he had any talent or not, Burroughs felt that writing was perhaps something to be ashamed of, a job 'that a big, strong, healthy man' shouldn't be doing. Burroughs' mindset brings up something that seems incredibly strange in the modern day of comic books; that once upon a time, writing comic books was just that, a job.

And it was. While there's always been a thread of creative spirit running through comics, for the first decades of the medium's life, it was the same creative spirit that runs through the Garfield comic strip (whose creator has explicitly said he created Garfield as a 'good, marketable character'); anything in any way exceptional only happened occasionally, and possibly by accident.

I will note, I do have strips from Garfield I like.

And for those familiar with how absurd the Gold and especially the Silver Age of comics are, the fact that they were primarily being created by men who considered writing them 'a job' says a lot about why. Imagine it; a small industry unconcerned with continuity, what a character 'was supposed to be', or whether a product was any 'good' or not, written solely by men who considered it little different from working in an office (and maybe less respectable). It was a disposable medium, stories that were meant to be read once, or at best kept briefly, and sooner or later discarded. What did it matter if they were repetitive, or ridiculous, or contradicted each other? This was a business of brief entertainments, primarily for children. No one in a year is going to care about (or remember) this stuff, let alone a decade or seven.

(I will note, of course, there are always exceptions to the concept that all comics were created as disposable nonsense meant expected to be forgotten. Ironically, the seen-as-disposable aspect of comics would create the other half of the curse that befell it in the late 80's and 90's; the collector's market. But that's another story)

Stan Lee, unlike a number of his peers (how many? Who knows. I'm sure someone does and the point of these articles isn't to try and pick through and categorize every comic writer of Ages past), actually had legitimate creative desires and wanted to write the traditional Great American Novel. His likely-planned start for such things in comics (thanks to an uncle) would ultimately change that; Lee would work for the company for over twenty years, writing in a variety of genres, creating a few superheroes (albeit none you'd likely have heard of), and ultimately serving as editor-in-chief, though his main creative contribution to comicdom before 1960 would be creating Captain America's trademark 'ricocheting shield trick' (in the very first story he ever told for Marvel, and a prose story at that). With DC Comics having experienced some success in redone superheroes after the superhero genre had fallen on hard times during the 50's, and with Lee planning on changing careers, when his boss asked him to create a new superhero team to try and claim some of DC's successes, Lee, encouraged by his wife, decided that instead of more of the same, he would try and tell the kind of story he was interested in. With that, Lee created the Fantastic Four, and told a story based around a different concept: instead of a perfect paragon, what would a superhero (or heroes) who was also a human being be like?

It's not exactly exaggeration when it is said that Lee's choice likely saved the superhero genre (we'll never know if DC's efforts would have been enough by themselves), and while Lee's stories were more or less as silly as the Silver Age's lesser known efforts, Lee was perhaps the first to try and introduce realism into the comics; his superheroes were flawed, had ups and downs in their lives, sometimes got overwhelmed by their responsibilities, and generally had more dimension. Lee, however, never seemed to forget that the roots of superherodom are inherently silly, and while every now and then he attempted something serious (his issues of Spider Man that showed the negative effects of drugs being one), they would always be matched by things like 'The No Prize' and 'The Merry Marvel Marching Society'. That superhero comics will always be silly on SOME level as a very aspect of their existence is something, unfortunately, a lot of future writers (and fans) would forget.

In some corners of the internet, showing this picture is a capital offense.

Perhaps Stan understood something that others didn't; superhero comics tend to be poor mediums for real life issues. It's kind of hard to discuss sociological inequalities with men who solve virtually their problems with punching and made-up nonsense. At best, the results will be clunky...

Not shown: the part where Hal Jordan realizes that saving the whole world counts. Then again, Hal was never that bright.

At worst, the silliness comic book superheroes constantly dip into will crash into the message attempt and end up producing something equally offensive.

Evidently, someone showed Ollie that Doom/Hulk ad. I would have made a joke here about Washington football teams, but I didn't want to date the articl-DAMN IT

The preceding two pictures are from one of DC Comics' more famous storylines, the 'Hard Travellin' Heroes' story arc, where Green Arrow and Lantern went wandering around trying to deal with more 'real-life problems'. You see the result. When you've gone from 'true if somewhat badly implemented question based in real life' to 'white man dressed up as a stereotypical Native while shooting at a man tied to a totem pole' within the space of three issues, you've gotten a direct look at why superhero comic books are not really the medium to show these issues off, even under the 'youth need a sledgehammer to learn' reason. I will note that this arc also contains perhaps the most infamous moment in Green Arrow (if not superhero comics) history.

You think that's bad Ollie, wait until Judd Winick gets his hands on you.

So, does that make you think of the plight of addicts, or are you too busy smirking at Green Arrow's rather overwrought facial expression? The link about the storyline above will show off many more of the arc's absurd moments, and while one should give credit where credit is due, things like this, especially in retrospect, remind me of a anonymous quote.

"A professor, writing on a grad student’s paper: You have reinvented the sled. Asked to clarify, the prof said: It’s much like reinventing the wheel, but less useful."

Which brings me, at last, to Alan Moore, and Watchmen.

Whether Moore could be said to be more creative than Lee is an impossible question; the two are very different men. Moore was definitely more of a wild child, dealing LSD in school, writing under a pseudonym that was a take on Gilles De Rais (which even Moore admits was a 'sardonic joke', and will generally give you an idea of what kind of man Moore is), and having his first major works be heavily influenced by his (immensely negative) feelings for the British government of the 80's (a trait many British creative types would share). Moore did, however, still like comic books, having had them as part and parcel of his voracious reading as a boy, and like Lee, he wanted to actually write stories following his interests (which would grow more and more anomalous as his life went on, but that is neither here nor there). which, as his career caught on, included revamping characters. With DC having acquired a new crop of characters, Moore presented a proposal to use them in a story, and was politely encouraged that it might work best with original characters instead due to the exact events of idea he had. Left with a completely blank canvas, Moore would rework the idea, and in the process, do as Lee had done. Lee had asked 'what if a superhero had human traits, like the kind seen in the real world'. Moore, instead, would ask 'What kind of a person in the real world would WANT to be a superhero?'

Looking at that question for a bit kind of makes you worried, doesn't it? It's a question that becomes more and more loaded the more you look at it. In the way of things, Burroughs' Tarzan also came about asking a question that is now very unfortunate; Burroughs, interested in the now-discredited field of eugenics, wanted to know if 'good breeding' could overcome adversity.

Translation; could being a white male descended from nobility allow you to take control of your environment per surpassing (easily) the native peoples there. The answer, of course, was yes.

While not as regretful as Nation's place in the creative field (that being a horrific story that happened to be attached to presentation techniques that unfortunately had to be originated with it and whose complete assimilation into the basics of the industry would ensure the film would not be forgotten), Tarzan's popularizing of what some call the 'Mighty Whitey' archetype (Tarzan wasn't the first character in that vein, but he was the one who caught on the biggest, especially since unlike those who came before him, his creator managed to discover a head for business and trademark him before further figuring out the concept of merchandizing him) would unfortunately ensure a certain type of adventure (and its unfortunate messages) would continue into the future.

Lee, on the other hand, ensured the superhero medium would. He lucked out, because Moore would as well...

And unfortunately, his contribution would end up more like Nation and Burroughs than Lee's.

Next article: I ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT WATCHMEN INSTEAD OF RAMBLING ABOUT GARFIELD AND GREEN ARROW. 

Coda: Here's what's on the back of that Incredible Hulk shirt. Just in case you HAD to know.

Blush: The Birth Of An Addiction

By 1915, filmmaking as an existing thing and the concept we know it as was barely twenty years old. Sound in film would not be introduced for another twelve years. The medium was in its infancy and molten, clay to be shaped. Along comes a man named D.W Griffith, who proceeds to make a film that would basically invent the very underpinnings of what all traditional cinema would come to do. Whether or not they were techniques just awaiting to be discovered and Griffith happened to think of them first is debatable, but whatever the case, it was his film that first utilized such techniques as moving the camera, rapid cuts (and editing in general), and perhaps most importantly, the cavalry scene, the scene of a mass of people riding to the rescue that would be stolen and adapted by hundreds of films in his wake over the decades. It was in many ways the first feature length film and the first 'blockbuster', decades before Jaws really defined that concept. You could definitely say it was the first true 'movie'. So why am I bringing this up when I should be talking about comics? Well, you can watch the now public-domain film here if you wish, but really, one image of this film says all I would really need to say.

Yes, that is the Ku Klux Klan, riding to the rescue and killing men in blackface (and being presented as the heroes for it). The film Griffith created with all these now-basic filmmaking techniques that he originated was Birth Of A Nation, a film whose message is as disgusting as its techniques were groundbreaking, and even moreso. When a film is considered racist in 1905, you know you've created a real winner of a story. Say what you will about Citizen Kane, but at least you can watch it these days without cringing through the whole experience. The vileness of the tale, however, does not take away from the reality of the framework created to present it. It is the unfortunate fact that not every created thing gets to come into existence with good intentions, and if you ever want that driven home with a bullet, do some research into how many medical advances came out of studying the records of experiments performed on the victims of the Holocaust and Imperial Japan.

Therein lies the issue of this article: groundbreaking works with a truly unfortunate pedigree (intentional or not) and most of the time, an unfortunate legacy in turn (The KKK was more or less dead before Nation's release; its defining-to-film nature helped revive the group). Hence, Watchmen.

Watchmen is Art. It is a Good Comic.

It is not for everyone, and it falls into the traditional trap of 'reality is innately ugly' that a lot of art falls into, but much like the techniques invented to present the tale of Nation, one can assess the one without innately dismissing it because of the unfortunate aspects of the other. Watchmen might be the most defining superhero comic ever created.

It also more or less ruined the medium, at least in terms of the widespread, accessible to the greater public sense. There are plenty of people who could point out the many other stories comics have been used to tell, before or since, but to the average person, comic books are superheroes, and to the loudest, most 'dedicated' fans, that's all comic books are too.

A side note on fans, if I may. One that doesn't just apply to the comic book medium.

A lot of fans aren't.

If you've ever been friends with a drug addict (which we'll use as a basic example), you probably know how hard it is, and what likely ended it if you did end the friendship. An addict (too often sadly) isn't the person you originally befriended. The addiction had climbed into the person's skin and taken over, and it will do anything to ensure it is fed. Friendship, trust, basic human decency, all of that falls away when the demon is squatting and scratching at your brain. To be friends with an addict is to be friends with a roulette wheel, where your actions if they crap out (go go inappropriately mixed gambling allegories!) tend to be the more basic and simple; anger, rejection, and the severing of the relationship. It's difficult to overcome the basic negative emotions that come from being betrayed by a friend in some way due to their demons (theft of property being the most common one), let alone know when things have reacted a point where the negative emotions are the proper reaction. It becomes even worse if the addict, who tends to not have the most stable viewpoints in the first place, comes to see you as an obstacle to sate their addiction. Understanding such feelings and where they spring from doesn't make it any less ugly or unpleasant (if not worse) to experience.

(Side Note: I am aware there are many reasons people become addicts. I'm generalizing.)

Devoted fans of things tend to be in two camps. One are hobbyists, and one are addicts. Hobbyists are pretty much exactly what it says on the tin; they collect, they may even obsess, but their fandom does not enter into who they are as a person, at least primarily. Perhaps most importantly, they have a better grasp of what's important and what's not; they may hate to part with or lose something, they may even regret it, but they'll accept it.

Fandom addicts, as you might have guessed, are not so lucky. Like any classic addict, what they want is a fix, and just like a drug addict, they will never get it. Addiction has many roots, but a large one in many drug addicts is the eternal chase of 'the first high', the pure sensation that the person felt when their body was first introduced to the drug. This sensation will never be felt again, as the body cannot replicate the feelings when it is first experiencing the results from an outside source for the first time, but that won't stop the addict from chasing it, and potentially sacrificing everything to the chase. Much like an addict can destroy their lives, relationships, and health for their fix of something that will kill them, one way or another, the addict lacking any perspective for what they're losing solely for an impossible gain, a fandom addict in a lot of ways doesn't care about what they supposedly like; they just want their fix. But you can only see the opening to Star Wars and feel what it made you experience, just like you can only take a drug for the first time once; fandom addicts want that same feeling again, and when they don't get it, things can get ugly. As a result, you often get a person who takes the object of their fandom very, very seriously, while paradoxically not understanding it very well, if at all. More on that later.

In any case, Watchmen. If you haven't read it, I would recommend it. You may not like it, but I still recommend it. The plot is simple; in a world with masked mystery men and a superhuman, a murder has been committed. The whys and fallout will reach back into the world's past and define its future, as well as provide examinations of the human condition, the abstract reasoning of countries, and show the very best, and the very worst, of human minds, morality, and thinking processes, and the myriad ways good people do bad things, bad people do good things, and people just do things without having any idea if they're good and bad. It can be read as very dark and bleak, but it can also be read as a examination of real life heroism, how it can go wrong, and how one can avoid it going wrong. In a lot of ways, Watchmen is not very different from this.

As cheesy and silly as these comics read now, when Stan Lee wrote them, he recreated and reinvigorated the superhero genre the same way Watchmen did; he added realism. The Fantastic Four weren't a group of shiny happy people effortlessly defeating ugly, deformed criminals (or more likely, Nazis or Japanese soldiers), they were a family that didn't get along, bickered and fought, and had a team member who was not only strong, but also ugly, and also SMART. To the simple superhero field, that was as groundbreaking as Nation's cavalry rescue ride. Spider-Man wasn't a noble adult, he was a selfish teenager whose use of his powers got the most important person in his life indirectly killed, a lesson that shocked him so bad that he devoted himself to heroism as a result. Superman never had to fight crime with a cold, and the Justice Society never had a hero who looked like a monster and couldn't turn it off, yet refused to abandon the cause of good no matter how much society ostracized him. For his flaws, Lee actually made these superhuman people human, and better characters for it.

Alan Moore, who wrote Watchmen, just took the next step. Unfortunately for the genre, it was the same kind of step Nation took, albeit not for the same reasons. Nation would recreate the underpinnings of a genre, while being attached to the most unfortunate content possible. Watchmen would do the same thing, with the exception that its content wasn't unfortunate because of its innate existence.

It was unfortunate because of how its innate existence would be perceived. In my last column, I talked about how the immature desperately seek to be seen as mature (and just prove their immaturity). In my next, I'll take that and the fandom of addiction, and show how Watchmen combined with the two to cast a dark shadow over virtually every comic book that would come out ever since.

Coda: The 'villain' of Birth Of A Nation would primarily be based on Thaddeus Stevens, a man who was decades if not centuries ahead of his time. Fortunately, later films would get better actors and better lines to represent him.

This has nothing to do with comics; I just think it's a great speech.

Goku vs The Fruitcake: Writing Sins Past

I believe I promised to post this around Christmas. I think I wrote this around...1998? My mental age was around 12 I think...I was a very VERY late bloomer. Presented in unaltered form save for spelling corrections, along with some commentary.

---

Goku vs The Fruitcake

*It is a lovely snowy day in Japan…*

(Does it snow in Japan?)

(Shut up Ian!)

(Script format AND breaking the fourth wall to argue with another fanfic writer, off to a rolling start)

*…anyway, it is a lovely day in Japan as Christmas draws near. Goku is alone in the house, writing his list to Santa Claus*

Goku: And a pony, and a lifetime supply of food, and for Vegeta to actually like me…now forget that, that’s impossible. Um, and a really cute kitten…

*Ding dong!*

Goku: Now who could that be? Hmmmm…Chi Chi there…Gohan there…Vegeta…no, he’d just knock the door down…um… *goes on and on on who it could be, finally arriving to…* it must be Chaozu!

(That’s blatant favoritism!)

(Ian, SHUT THE HELL UP!)

(Don’t you tell me to shut up! I am NAME DELETED TO PREVENT LOOKUP, the greatest…um, no, the funniest…um, no…I am the famed Super Idiot!  I…AHHHHH! *Cornwind drags Ian out to the train tracks near his house and ties the crazy author to them in hopes of a train coming along and doing something very messy*)

(He won’t interrupt anymore)

[I wonder how Ian, my fanfic writing peer of the time, is doing)

Goku: *opens door* Hello Cha…huh, no one’s here…ohhh, what’s this? *looks down at a package at his feet* What could this be?

*Dramatic music plays*

Goku: Huh? Is the stereo malfunctioning again? Oh well, yay a gift! Let’s see what it is…*unwraps it* What the…?

*Inside the box…is the most dreaded thing about Christmas! Worse then the frenzied shopping! Worse then the budget crises that arise! Worse then the fact that the holiday has been murdered by corporate greed! (I’m in a cynical mood, sue me) It is the worst, most terrible horrible thing in all of Christmas…dom! It is…A FRUITCAKE!*

(In retrospect, fruitcake is not THAT bad. Though you need one of decent quality and some ice cream to go with it, IMO)

Goku: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! It’s the lone food that even I won’t eat! I must get rid of it!

*Goku picks up the piece of “food” and throws it out the door and into the middle of the woods.*

Goku: There, that wasn’t so… *turns around and sees the fruitcake on a table behind him* YEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Ok, I’ll just throw you farther! *picks up the cake and hurls it into the horizon. It spirals into Satan City*

Vegeta; *shopping* ARGGHHHH! If one more annoying thing happens, I am going to blow something up!

*Fruitcake crashes through the roof and lands on his head*

Vegeta: THAT’S IT! *goes SSJ and starts blowing up the store*

(Ah, the days when I thought 'Super Saiya-Jin' sounded SO much better than 'Super Saiyan', and everyone just abbreviated it to SSJ)

Goku: *back at his house* There, that *turns around to see the fruitcake sitting on the table again* YEEEKKKKKKK! That’s IT!

*Goku flies outside and winds up before he hurls the fruitcake out across the ocean. It flies to the United States and lands on the head of Unforgiven II, but his skull is so thick he doesn’t ever notice*

(Pretty sure he was a critic. I'm still more mature than Michael Crichton)

Goku: Ah…..at last I am free of *wanna guess what he sees when he gets back in his house?* IIIIYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! Ok, NO MORE MR NICE SAIYA-JIN!

*Goku powers up and ki blasts the fruitcake.*

Goku: There. Not even…*the smoke clears to reveal the fruitcake is undamaged* ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

*Goku throws a barrage of ki blasts at the fruitcake, completely demolishing his house in the process*

Goku: *panting* Man, Chi Chi’s gonna be pissed…but at last…I am free…oh no! *The smoke clears to reveal the fruitcake is still undamaged* AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

*Goku goes SSJ and throws a gigantic storm of ki blasts at the fruitcake, blowing up the mountain he lives on and all the forests around him.*

Goku: Well, I was getting sick of living in the wilderness anyway…oh no no NO! *smoke clears to reveal the fruitcake is still undamaged*

*A strange look comes over Goku’s face, and as fury fills his eyes, Spirit vs Spirit starts to play…*

(STOP THE FIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

“Oh god, not you guys again!” Cornwind Evil (original name replaced with name you'd know) said as three familiar lawyers came into his room. “I didn’t do anything that had anything to do with NAMED REMOVED this time!”

(I think this was a callback to lawyers interrupting me in another story. Stole it from the Simpsons. Name Removed was another writer)

“We don’t represent NAME REMOVED anymore, after we accidentally called her a he. Ow, I still have lumps.” Said the head lawyer, as his burly companions towered over Cornwind again. “I now represent the estate of…of…” the lawyer said as he struggled to read the Japanese name. “…Of this guy, the composer of Spirit vs Spirit! He orders you to stop this unauthorized usage immediately! And may I add that this time that my friends and I are wearing rubber chicken proof clothing!”
“Oh really? Too bad for you I switched to Scuba Steve.” Cornwind said, pulling out the large action figure. The lawyer’s eyes widened.
“Oh no.”
WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK!

(The first time I beat them with a rubber chicken. This time I beat them with Scuba Steve from the film Big Daddy. This was back in the day when LOLRANDOM was a pre-requisite for having a fanfic writing 'personality'. Thank god I grew out of those ridiculous games of pretend, winkwinknudgenudgesaynomore)

“Idiots.” Cornwind muttered as he shoved the unconscious bodies out of his room. “But I’ll respect the guy who wrote that song…hmmm, let’s see…”

*A new song, one that sounds VERY similar to Spirit vs Spirit, starts up. The new song, called Spirit vs Dessert, keeps playing as Goku loses it*

(The really funny thing is due to the nature of the internet in those days, I didn't even know what Spirit vs Spirit sounded like, just that it was a famous Dragon Ball Z song)

Goku: AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *goes SSJ19…and stops when he fells a strange sensation on the top of his head* What the…AHHHHHHHHHHH! I’M BALD!

*Indeed, Goku’s hair is gone. Goku keeps feeling the top of his head until he finds a note*

Goku: “Dear Goku, I am tired of the constant new shapes and colours your powers are constantly putting me. I signed on to be your spiky one-styled black hair and nothing more. I have endured as much as I can, but after seeing what kind of shape I would have become at Super Saiya-jin Level Nineteen, I have decided to terminate our agreement. Good luck finding a toupee that matches me. Sincerely, your hair.” AHHHH! I look like Krillian’s older brother! I must find some new hair! I can’t do this without hair!

(Some time later)

Vegeta: *waking up in the ruins of the shopping mall after Bulma stole a page from Chi Chi and bashed him with a frying pan for blowing up the mall* Owwww…has that woman been working out…hey, wait a minute…AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! MY HAIR!

Goku: *back at the crater, now with Vegeta’s hair on his head* Good thing I found that superglue! Well, I may look like a troll, but I have hair! Now, fruitcake, prepare to meet your doom! *goes SSJ* KAMEHAMEHA!

*A massive explosion levels more of the landscape, and when the smoke clears…the fruitcake is still undamaged. Spirit vs Dessert begins to play again as the same funny look comes into Goku’s eyes*

Goku: AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! *goes SSJ19 again, and his hair becomes…well, let’s just say he makes a peacock look like nothing* DIE! SUPER MEGA ULTRA TURBO BURNING ULTIMATE SHINING REALLY REALLY PAINFUL KAMEHAMEHA!

*The blast blows up Earth, all the surrounding planets, the sun, the solar system, the Milky Way Galaxy, and several of the surrounding galaxies. Goku is now floating in a beyond massive void, his power keeping him alive…and the fruitcake is still undamaged*

Goku: No…what else can I possibly…

Fruitcake: MWAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA! Thank you Son Goku!

Goku: Wha? You’re alive?

Fruitcake: Yes! For eons I have been passed hand to hand, never being eaten but instead being sent on! I have been rejected from everything! So I have been gathering power from whenever I could, to prepare for this day! I expected it would take another trillion years before I had enough power, but your efforts have charged me to my limits and beyond! At last, revenge will be mine! I will destroy the earth and everything else!

Goku: Um, I already kinda did that.

Fruitcake:….Oh yeah. But that won’t stop me! I AM THE MIGHTY FRUITCAKE!

*The fruitcake waves…well, it does the closest thing to a wave that it can, and suddenly everything is back to the way it was. Shen Long and Poranga immediately begin clamoring to Akira Toriyama for the power to do that, who briefly stops counting all the money he made from DBZ to tell them to shut up*

Fruitcake: It is done! At long last, revenge is mine! You shall pay for always making me the gift for someone you didn’t like!

Goku: What can I do…it’s power is beyond anything I have ever felt…I cannot stop it…unless I do the unthinkable…it seems impossible…BUT I HAVE NO CHOICE!

Fruitcake: First…What? NO!

*Goku reaches out and grabs the fruitcake…and does what no man could have ever beared to do…HE EATS IT!*

Goku: *chew…chew…chew…swallow* Hey, that wasn’t so bad! It was a tad burnt, but beside that…well, back home I go!

*uses Instantaneous Movement to teleport to Satan City…only to find everyone he knows and a bunch of other people looking at him*

Goku: Uh…hi! What’s going on…?

Random Person: You have committed a blasphemy against all living things…you have ingested a fruitcake! We can no longer let you touch food, lest it be corrupted by the fruitcake within you!

Goku: *screaming* NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Goku screamed as he sat up. He looked around and sighed, and then turned to Chi Chi.
“Oh Chi Chi…I had the worst dream…about fruitcake and no food and having to have Vegeta’s hair style…”
“Bud. Weis. Er.” Chi Chi’s three frog heads croaked back.

(I'd say this dates the story, except I don't think anyone would even remember that reference except me)

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Goku screamed as he tumbled out of bed. Chi Chi jerked up at the noise, then looked down at her husband.
“That’s it Goku! No more chocolate chip and sushi pizzas with beer before bedtime for you ever again!”

Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good fight!

(A story like this is like power levels. Vegeta?)

Blush: An Introduction, or, Where's The Beef?

Warning: The following contains rambling. Maybe even self-indulgent rambling. Maybe even boring self-indulgent rambling. I really can't tell from where I'm sitting, so...be warned?

There's a few sayings about critics. Those who can't, do it is one. Everyone being one is another. Some people were more creative; Shakespeare called them 'a wretched race of hungry alligators'. Generally, there seems to be a belief that critics are critics because they can't actually create and hence are jealous, or that they don't know how to do their jobs and just do them to be mean, or feel better about others by tearing them down. It's somewhat understandable, as a lot of criticism is not something you can really 'learn' or 'train'. On a few levels, the viewpoints of the late Siskel and Ebert are about the same as some random internet yahoo screaming into a camera; you can evolve presentation, but it's all opinion in the end. There's also this quote at the end of Ratatouille...

"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so."

-Anton Ego

And the character of Ego was a food critic, which actually requires some degree of talent to do. Just about anyone can criticize pop culture. So therein lies the question; how can anyone's criticism, beyond overt exceptions, have meaning?

More to the personal point, for this series of articles I want to do, some people could very much see it as the pot calling the kettle black, as I mainly wish to address fictional works which I feel poorly, and badly, utilize the concepts of 'realism' and 'shades of grey' to the overall detriment of the story. In other words, I want to complain about cynicism, when I at times have gleefully attempted to inject cynicism into creative efforts, half the time where it wasn't needed or wanted at that. That's the very thing I want to discuss and criticize, so how can I be in a position to do it?

Well, first, I thought I'd talk about why I do it, and perhaps by some small extent, why  I think anyone does it. Why does anyone like bad things? The world has enough real, actual troubles; how can anyone get a taste for it and want to see the same things in their fiction? There's no real answer, of course. Tastes are made of a thousand arbitrary, sometimes random things; it's not like a math formula where A equals B, ergo C. I do, however, have my own viewpoint, beyond the arbitrary navel gazing.

I recently extensively quoted a bit from Alan Moore, from his assessment of the 9/11 attacks, in a shared work, and his initial words have stuck with me recently. As he said.

"This is information. Matter is energy. Energy is information. Everything is information. Physics says that structures, buildings, societies, ideologies, will seek their point of least energy. This means that things fall. They fall from heights of energy and structured information into meaningless, powerless, disorder. This is called entropy."

It was that professed concept of thoughts and their processes following along the same rough lines of entropy that I think provides the answer to why people like cynicism in their works. Cynicism is, at heart, a reason to not expend effort, to innately head towards a point of least energy. All negative thought processes are; the reason most people will never change is changing is not only terrifying, it's hard. Cynicism is mild compared to some other 'isms and 'ogynys and so on, but it's part of the same boat.

So why enjoy cynicism? In the way of being drawn to the point of least energy, whatever someone has to do to avoid expending effort causing enjoyment makes sense. If everything innately heads towards entropy, then it could definitely be argued that to go along with it would be pleasing. After all, you're doing 'what's natural'. There was even some study I read once that thinking about doing something is almost as pleasing as doing it, ie, thinking about it releases almost the same amount of happy chemicals in the dopamine and serotonin fields as actually completing the task (which is why procrastination is a problem for some). Another article I read about 9/11 conspiracy theories speaks of the same things; it basically pointed out the theorists were not really concerned about 'the truth' about the attacks, but constructing a narrative where they were smarter and better than the rest of the world without expending any effort whatsoever to be better. Looking at, or crafting a bad situation, and then going 'But that's how it is' and getting a buzz out of it, just might be part of the nature of existence. If there's going to be any sort of solid answer for why anyone likes cynicism in their fiction, that's really as good as any.

But if fiction is like a fine course meal, tell me, when was the last time you had a great meal that consisted of a steak, hamburgers, bacon, and a side of beef jerky? And even if you did enjoy something like that ONCE, how many times would you have to have a meal in that vein before you got sick of it? Here's a better question; how do the people who would never get sick of it think?

To me, sometimes enjoying cynicism is like a proper meal. You need the fiction to have a variety of aspects, just like a good meal will have meat, and vegetables, and soups and salads and variety in general. Even if you might deem to eat an 'all-meat meal' (ex: reading something by Cormac McCarthy), you should you know what you're getting into. To me, any time I try and introduce cynicism is because at the moment, I want a steak. Sometimes I want spaghetti too. It's probably fitting, come to think of it now, that my first quote was from a fictional food critic. Back to the point, how do the kind of people who would happily eat all-meat meals over and over without getting tired of it think?

Well, it seems to me they really don't. Their thoughts are singular; 'I like meat, you must be wrong to not like meat' and just stop there. This is where the allegory for my issues that I'll be raising shakes apart, as people can just make their own food if they want. But consuming fiction, my complaint...is basically the people who don't recognize this. Who insist on serving an all-meat meal because darn it, that's what they like, what kind of dumbass wouldn't? And that because they have the 'power' to 'control the menu', they end up losing what little insight they had, if they ever had any to begin with. This leads me to one last meat factoid; spices used to be as valued as precious metals once upon a time because in the days before humans developed food preservation techniques, spices could be used for a variety of issues, one of them covering up the bad taste of food that had spoiled. The point being that even if the bad taste is covered, the meat is still rotten, even if you can't see it. And it might still make you sick.

Maybe I should stop talking about food. So, another quote. What does this sound like to you?

"It breaks hope -- it crushes what makes us decent and steals what little honor remains. You have... no idea what is coming." 

 What does this sound like to you? Maybe a line from an ultra-cynical work, like Warhammer 40,000? Maybe something a villain would say, or someone victimized by something terrible, who by the basis of their suffering, has a rather twisted and altered viewpoint? Can you think of places (ie pieces of fiction) where a line like this doesn't belong?

Now that you have, can you think of how things could be presented so that it could belong? 

I bet there's a few you could think of. I bet you could also think of a few where it just wouldn't work. Square peg, round hole. Now the next question: what happens when you feel compelled to cram the square peg into the round hole, not for the sake of a story or a vision, but for the sake of the opinions of another?

Like I said, if thought processes are as prone to entropy as physical ones, the fact that people can end up in the boxes I am going to discuss, and in a lot of cases lament and get aggravated by, makes sense. That doesn't make the end result any less rotten. Pile on all the spices you want, the meat's still bad. And one of the main reasons comes from the namesake of these columns; why is it called 'Blush'? Mainly because I feel the core root of the problem matches this quote by C.S Lewis;

“Critics who treat 'adult' as a term of approval, instead of as a merely descriptive term, cannot be adult themselves. To be concerned about being grown up, to admire the grown up because it is grown up, to blush at the suspicion of being childish; these things are the marks of childhood and adolescence. And in childhood and adolescence they are, in moderation, healthy symptoms. Young things ought to want to grow. But to carry on into middle life or even into early manhood this concern about being adult is a mark of really arrested development. When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.” 

Why am I writing these things? Because in my field of interests, I have begun to perceive more and more people for whom 'blushing at being childish' is their worst nightmare, and they're willing to do anything to be seen as doing so. But like I've already said, the meat is still rotten, and no amount of spice isn't going to make it fresh again. So therein lies my goal. For someone who likes their cynicism, I will talk about when I don't like cynicism, and why. And while I may just be some yahoo on the Internet typing instead of yelling into a camera...well, need I repeat myself more?

Coda: One point I'd like to make.

There are obvious things that are bad, that you should know are bad without actually doing it. One does not have to jump off a cliff to KNOW it's going to end badly. I expect people to be aware of these obvious things. That being said, never let anyone tell you what to like, or not to like.

I once read a critic review of Freddy vs Jason that trashed the film, calling it 'vile' and the usual epitaphs. I greatly enjoyed the film when I saw it. Perhaps by the viewpoint of this critic, I 'failed', but what does that matter? In the end, outside of the obvious, if you enjoy something, that doesn't mean you can't not enjoy it. Sometimes you can see past the flaws, or live with them. I will not lord over anyone that 'I am right, you are wrong'. These is just my own assessments, be they ever so small and lacking a point. Too much critical analysis of work, I find, gets bogged down in pointless 'You should like what I like, and dislike what I like, and if you don't, YOU'RE BAD' nonsense. Like what you want, no matter how bad people say it is. QED.

...I actually have no idea if I'm using QED correctly. Oh well.

Coda 2: I'll be getting to the source of that 'breaks hope' quote eventually. Next, though, I'm going to look at something famous that I myself think is, and was, very good, and how unfortunately, sometimes the best things can only be told once.

Cornwind Cutting Room Floor 2014

2014 was actually a pretty good year, as I managed to get virtually everything I wanted done and even managed to toss in some stuff from the 2012 cutting room floor. So here's what didn't make it.

Muin

The general idea, as far as I thought, was that if you created a contemptible villain, you give the rest of the circle you're playing with the chance to beat the shit out of him. The main issue was that Muin was just a normal man with no resources; it would be over as soon as it started. The idea was to give him superpowers, specifically the ability to absorb the properties of anything he touched. Had this happened, the final Strangvia battle would have had Muin, as he turned himself into steel, rock, fire, and everything else he could to kill the Kobbers. But, once he failed, he would have been thrown into Strangvia's museum. You probably don't remember, but when Ash visited Strangvia, he looked at several creations of Strangvia's mayor, including 'a youth serum', 'battle armor' and 'a flying machine'. Muin, after being beaten and seemingly killed, would have absorbed these three things in a last ditch effort and turned into...

Yep, the second Sheep introduced Strangvia, my immediate urge was to use the clock tower and rip off Amazing Spider Man 2. Had this played out, Muin would have just targeted Ash and a just rescued Scaeyl, and I would have replicated the final battle scene of the movie with two key differences: Ash would have taken the fall (I had a rough idea of Strangvia figuring out how to block Stream powers after Ash's little incident there, hence he'd have no protection) and thankfully would have barely survived it, and taking such a risk would have been what turned Scaeyl to the good side. I had no set plans for Muin to live or die during this fight, and in the end, the group decided they'd rather just have him gone, so this never happened. Probably best; what I think is a 'just right' amount of action and drama tends to be 'too much' for the rest.

That was pretty much it for major altered ideas: everything else worked out more or less as I planned, though there were a few possibles that never happened.

-Sheep's disappearance kept various Strangvia aspects from being revealed, which might have tied into Bracha or Maddie.
-Bracha might have turned evil again.
-Aiden's encounter with Mnerolth and the Triune would have eventually led to him regaining his memories and leading them to their doorstep, had no one else had any other ideas.
-Sine would have used the Fifth-Dimensional Ink to summon Godzilla by accident in a big fight. Once he showed up in the Fite Club, I deemed this redundant.
-There were a few things with the Einherjer I never could properly work in in an obvious way. One was that Ideans had a crush on Scaeyl. Plus, there would have been more encounters with Jack and co, but Sheep.

Hopefully next year will build on this mostly-smoothless.