It’s like I’m living in the future.

I say that a lot in my real life, and it’s only partly a joke. If you think about it, we are living in a science fiction universe. This has always been true. Time and technology marches on and things we take for granted would be absolute magic for people of a different era. But technology moves so fast these days that the time from barely dreamt concept to everyday application can be startling. Especially in electronics.

This is both amazing and troubling. We are, at our hearts, the same primitive beasts who beat each other with clubs. Considering how slowly we evolve biologically and how rapidly our world has begun to change societally, you have to wonder how we’ll cope with it.

One of the ideas that most troubles me is a new version of “The Omnivore’s Dilemma”. Only this dilemma isn’t about food, but media. We are able to satisfy our particular media appetites to our ultimate indulgence. This is such a new development, I don’t think we know how to handle it.

My wife has a habit of watching entire seasons of TV shows in a few days. As far as I can tell, this is normal now. Being old school, I tend not to enjoy doing this. It makes me realize just how different my wife and I are about stuff like this.

But it is a big question. How do you value something that is, more or less, unlimited? Value almost always springs from scarcity. As an older guy, I came from a time when media was a limited resource. If I wanted to watch The A-Team, but Simon & Simon was on the other channel, I had to make a choice. I couldn’t watch both. Coming from slightly before VCRs hit the scene, I couldn’t tape the runner up. The best I could do was wait for rerun season, and hope to catch it then.

Now, I can watch anything I want. I can carry a thousand and one books in a portable device. I can go to websites and obsess with other fans about any show, book, movie, fetish, etc. I imagine. The only limitation right now (provided I have the minimal financial resources to pay for it, though many do not) is my own mortality. There are only so many hours in the day, after all.

I’ve noticed this among most of my friends. I find myself more selective in my media than they are. I tend not to be as forgiving. I won’t watch things that don’t win me over fairly quickly. Most of my friends will give a show four or five episodes. And if these shows have one or two good moments during those episodes, it’s more than enough.

This isn’t meant as a judgment. Given the nature of modern media, my old habits can seem quaint, almost silly. When I say that I found a comic book boring or that a TV show was okay, but not good enough to keep me watching, most people seem puzzled by this. And I can’t truly blame them.

But today’s media feast has made me more picky, not less. In a world where I can partake of anything I desire, why settle for something I deem only “okay”? But it seems the other way to most.

Keep in mind, this is the observation of one guy, who obviously is coming from a different viewpoint. I’m not trying to convince anyone otherwise.

Still, I think the world would be better if we were all a little more choosey. And I believe we do ourselves a disservice by indulging our appetites to the point of gluttony, by devouring more as a matter of habit than desire.

If I can indulge my own point without subtlety, I think in a world where the only thing limiting our appetites is our own judgment, we have to accept our own responsibility. They might publish a dozen Spider-Man comics a week. You don’t have to read them all. You don’t have to watch a whole season of a TV show before deciding if you like it. And you can be a fan of something without being a devoted superfan.

Yeah, it’s kind of weird to say that in this day and age. After all, every canceled TV show, every obscure character, every weird movie, has a devoted following at this point. Obsessive fandom isn’t unusual now. It’s expected.

I realize this is a bit of a contradaction. I’m suggesting that we are both too obsessive of our media while also being somehow undemanding of it. But I’m not so sure these are opposing values. Perhaps in a world with unlimited access, we are less concerned with what we obsess over than just obsessing over SOMETHING.

I don’t have the answers. I’m not even sure what the question is. But I hadn’t posted in a while so I’ll leave it at that for the moment.

Thanks for reading.

Oh, and just in case you need reminding, A. LEE MARTINEZ APPRECIATION DAY!! is coming (Jan 12). Not that you need reminding, I’m sure.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

BigHeath2099 on Twitter suggests: “How about what animal would be scariest if there was a vampire version.  I’m thinking giraffe.”

Well, BigHeath 2099, as much as I can see where you’re coming from, giraffes are simply too gangly to be particularly dangerous.  Any monster that can be foiled by low ceilings probably won’t make the Most Terrifying list.

The topic isn’t an easy one.  I could, of course, point out that there already is a vampire version of several animals, and that a vampire vampire bat would be some sort of double vampire, which is like making Godzilla twice as radioactive.  In other words, big trouble.  Or vampire leeches, with the ability to become wolves, would be terrifying to behold.

There are two schools of monsterizing animals.  The first is to take a relatively harmless animal and embiggen it.  And it’s true that there’s nothing like a giant rat, rabbit, or chipmunk to remind us that we’re really not quite as secure in our position on the food chain as we would like.  Rarely is an already big animal made larger, although the idea of jumbo-sized elephants or megarhinos could be awesome.

Animals are often zombified, which has become something of a cliche at this point.  Although zombie cows are definitely the height of terror.  But zombie animals are basically just rabid, flesh-hungry beasts.  It’s not really a new genre.

But vampires could be cool.  Especially if they were actually allowed to be vampires.  A beast that can turn into a bat, transform into mist, climb up walls, and mesmerize its victims would be pretty awesome.  Even a giraffe with these abilities could be a dangerous beast indeed.  Of course, such a monster would also melt in sunlight, be forbidden from entering uninvited (how would a vampire goose ask for an invitation anyway?), and be repelled by holy water.  Still, it could be a problem for even the most experienced vampire hunter.

As usual, I’m probably overthinking it.  So rather than debate endlessly with myself, I’m just going to settle on the obvious answer.

Dinobot.

RobbClarke on Twitter suggested: “Traditional print for books Vs. electronics.”

It’s a big topic, not easily covered.  I’ve already written on this topic before, and it boils down to I like traditional print books and electronic books for different reasons.  I like paper books a lot.  Not the least of which is that once they are bought they are yours forever (or until nature or carelessness destroys them).  They’re easy to trade.  And buying them gives me a reason to leave the house.

E-books are just great for accessibility and portability.  The need for electricity is a bit of a downside, but at this stage in civilization, electricity is necessary for just about everything.  If we lost it tomorrow, we’d have more pressing concerns than e-books.  I don’t like that e-books are more impermanent than paper books, but that’s a trade off that is unavoidable.

I think the Print Vs. E-books debate is built on a false dichotomy.  Maybe it’s just human nature but we like to pit things against each other in competition and have a clear winner.  I’m not going to play that game.  (Although if pressed I will say I assume print will eventually lose.)  I’m just going to say that each has their advantages and weaknesses, and I’d like both to be around and prosperous as long as possible.

itendswithZ via Twitter says: “do a silly one. like how 3D looks like crap”

I don’t think 3D looks like crap.  I just don’t think it really looks like anything.  Aside from a novelty value, it doesn’t really add anything to a film.  Except making it more expensive and more inconvenient.  It doesn’t appear to be going away anytime soon because the movie industry is really really determined to make it stick.  But that’s about the only reason.

I would prefer though that they stopped retroactivally 3D-ing movies that were shot in 2D.  It usually ends up being as successful as colorizing B&W films.  You can’t just paste an entirely new format on a film after the fact.  It rarely works.  Just look at the digital effects pasted into the original Star Wars trilogy.  They tend to stick out.  A film is not a stack of Lego blocks that can be broken down and reassambled at will.  Anymore than a well-constructed book could have blocks of text removed and added at whim.  It’s this haphazard disrespect for the medium that makes 3D truly destructive to me.

Okay, that’s enough from me.  Thanks for stopping by.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

This is why I’m working on my mind-control top hat.  If it gets people to like me, I’m not above a little superscience.  And if it’s good enough for The Ringmaster & the Circus of Crime, it’s good enough for me.

But until I get that hat to work, I’m stuck trying to get people to like me the old fashioned way.  By writing good novels and being generally delightful.  It’s not easy.  I may not always feel like being delightful, but I still persevere.  Because that’s me.  That’s how I roll.

But this isn’t about me, delightful as I may be.  This is about my books.  If you think they’re just goofy little stories that bring you a few hours of joy, I’m not going to complain about it.  But I will say that I think I have more to offer than that.

Maybe it’s just the way I look at the world, but I think we all share the same joys, the same pains, the same fears, and the same questions about the universe.  I believe that, when you peel away all the layers of crap the world and society throws on us, underneath it all, we aren’t very different at all.  

I’ll admit I don’t write novels steeped in symbolism and metaphor.  I’m not terribly poetic (though I do have my moments), but it doesn’t take poetry to speak about the Terran condition.  Most of my stories involve tentacle monsters or slime beasts or things of that nature with a dash of armchair metaphysics that help to keep the plot moving.

It doesn’t mean I have nothing to say.

One of the reasons I tend to dislike “literary” fiction is that it tends to throw itself in your face.  It grabs you by the shoulders and says, “This is important!”  It might very well be, but I find the lessons in life aren’t only to be found in stories about the Holocaust or meandering tales where an author composes detailed treatises of how the ocean is like hope.  A story with humor, told well, with maybe a raccoon god or zombie cow, can say something about Terran nature.  Plus, it can be awesome.

I harp on this every so often, so I’m sorry if I sound like a broken record.  But just because I don’t feel the need to sacrifice characters to the gods of literary seriousness or create extraordinarily complicated plots that doesn’t mean I don’t care about what I’m writing.  Or that I don’t believe it has some social value.  I’m not just talking about a few hours of distraction from this muddled confusion we call life either.  (Although I can’t really complain if that was all I managed to do since that’s a worthy goal in itself in this world.)  No, I think you can find something relatable in my novels.  Something that just might help you think of the world in a different way.

Maybe that’s just the way I think.  I believe enlightenment can be found in just about anything.  Wisdom is discovered in the strangest places, and I’m not suggesting there’s something special about my books.  I think when we’re in the right mindset, anything can help us on our personal journeys.

I learned a lot about love from Wall-E.  I love zen, and Kung Fu Panda helped me to love it even more.  And I don’t know if anyone but me even remembers the animated The American Rabbit movie, but there’s a moment at the end, too complex to get into, that shaped my personal philosophy since I first saw it.  (So if anyone out there happened to work on that obscure little film, know that it touched my life in a very real and personal way.)

That’s me.  I’ll admit my personal philosophy has been shaped as much by cartoons and comic books as anything else, and while some might find that absurd, they’re confusing the medium with the message.  And they’re not even really giving the medium a fair shake.

At the end of the day, all our media, our stories, our movies, our books, our politics, our religions, our philosophies are by Terrans, for Terrans.  We’re all wrestling with the same questions, and it’s impossible not to write those questions into most stories.  It just can’t be done.  Everything speaks to somebody, somewhere.  And I’d like to think…no scratch that.  I know that somewhere out there, someone has found something worthwhile in something I’ve written.  Something profound that I can only hope has made their life more interesting, thoughtful, and, hopefully, beautiful.

It’s not because of some amazing confidence in my own writing.  It’s just logical.  I’m human.  My readers are human (most probably).  And that gives us a lot in common.  So from one befuddled human to another, I wish you the best of luck.  And if you happen to find something worthwhile in my books, let’s not act as if it’s surprising.  Because it happens.  Sometimes even in stories about giant monster gods who want to eat the moon.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Can’t say I didn’t warn you.

I’m glad you enjoyed my “fun” little stories about robot detectives and country-fried vampires.  But did you listen?  Did you heed the warning?  No, you did not.  But everyone will have probably have noticed by now that slime monsters and horrible consuming beasts are a recurring element in my stories.

The byproduct of an obsession with weird creatures and kaiju movies?  

The prophecies of an unappreciated visionary?

Pure, dumb luck?

Even I can’t say for sure.

But I welcome our new oozing overlords, and advise all of you to do the same.  While many of you will be fed to the nameless gods of the depths, it shouldn’t be long before our benevolent dinobot masters come to free us.  Oh, the glorious war of the oozing death and the laser cybersaurs shall be glorious to behold.  And from the ashes…a new empire will rise.  One of peace, prosperity, and equality for all.

Until those damned Inhumanoids come and ruin it for everyone.

You have been warned.