But while Flying Frog’s games are always strange and unique, they are still a young company learning the ropes.  Every game they make gets better and better, and while they have a default system of rules that they seem to rely on, that’s not really a bad thing.  It certainly makes their games easy to learn, and it’s a flexible enough system that it works well for a variety of games.

The other thing I enjoy about Flying Frog is that they have ambition, and that ambition is front and center for their latest game, Fortune and Glory.  This is a big production from a small company, and for their chutzpah alone, they deserve some credit.  But that they’ve learned a lot from their previous games is obvious, and this is a solid fun experience.

Fortune and Glory is subtitled The Cliffhanger Game.  It’s a thematic homage to classic pulp adventure tales where two-fisted heroes fight evil Nazis and bust the mob as they search the earth for ancient artifacts.  If you’ve ever thrilled to the adventures of globe-trotting adventurers or enjoyed watching villains getting punched for justice, then this game could be right up your alley.

Every player takes on the role of a hero adventurer.  It’s a wide cast of characters, ranging from Jacques the French Scoundrel to Li the Chinese Lounge Singer and Sharon the American Reporter.  There’s also a Hemmingway homage, a daring pilot, a plucky race car driver, and an English lord.  Each character has their own strengths and weaknesses though given the random nature of the game, it’s not like one is noticeably stronger than the others.

The goal of the game is to gather a set amount of “Fortune” and return home a hero.  Mostly heroes accomplish this by traveling the world and gathering lost treasures.  Exploring hidden locations is basically a push-your-luck affair.  The more daring you are, the faster you can gather those treasures.  Unless your overconfidence gets you knocked back to your home city to lick your wounds.

The system is as simple as drawing a card and facing a danger.  The dangers are all classic pulpy adventures.  Things like sneaking aboard a Nazi blimp, deciphering ancient puzzles, fighting mobsters and monsters, car chases, and so on.  Usually you’re presented a choice.  If you’re exploring a dark cave, you can either try to use your cunning to avoid things lurking in the dark OR you can just go ahead and fight.  If you succeed on your choice, you get some “Glory” and progress on your adventure.  If you fail…

Here’s where the game is really very fun.  Every danger card is double-sided.  If you fail at your danger, the card is flipped over to reveal a cliffhanger that remains unresolved until your next turn.  Not only does this fit very well with a classic serial atmosphere, it also gives every danger a sense of uncertainty.  There are multiple versions of every danger, each with a different cliffhanger on its back.  So you won’t really know if those strange statues are going to shoot darts poison darts OR if they’ll come alive and attack you.

The game offers several options to players.  There’s the standard competitive mode where players are working against each other.  This can be fun because heroes can’t directly attack each other, but they can certainly race each other to the valuable artifacts.  It’s thrilling (well, as thrilling as a board game can be) to have two or more competing heroes braving dangers, one after the other, deciding whether to play it safe or try to get ahead of their opponent.

There’s also cooperative mode, where all the heroes work together to stop an evil organization from stealing enough artifacts to enact their nefarious schemes.  There are two organizations: The Nazis and the Mob.  Each functions in a different style, with their own henchmen and leaders.  Not only does this put extra pressure on the heroes as they race to stop the villains from robbing secret temples, but it gives even more options.  Heroes can storm enemy bases, steal back artifacts, and otherwise battle minions scattered on the board.

Finally, there’s the team game, where players divide into teams of heroes and try to beat each other.  You can also play solo (with a lone or multiple heroes) and have a very fun experience.

There are optional rules as well to keep the game interesting and customizable.  Even in the competitive game, you can have a zeppelin floating around the globe, scattering Nazis, while it gathers Fortune.  And yes, you can go ahead and try to steal some of that back if you’re braving enough.

Fortune and Glory has a few weaknesses.  For one, it’s an expensive game.  Since Flying Frog is a small game company and this is a BIG game with lots of cards and plastic, it has a hefty price tag.  Even if the theme appeals to you, it’s not something a casual game fan is going to consider.  Add to this that it is a game full of ups and downs and a lot of randomization, many serious game players are going to find it too unpredictable.

Also, I’m not a fan of the cards Flying Frog uses.  They’re a thick stock (which is good), but tend to stick together for the first few games.

Flying Frog uses photo art for its games, and it creates a peculiar visual style.  I didn’t initially like it, but it did eventually win me over.  But it might not be to everyone’s tastes.

But at the end of the day, Fortune and Glory is a fun, unique game with a lot going for it.  The game really convinced me it was cool when I ran to South America to fight Icebox, the notorious mob hitman, for The Sword of the Monkey God.  After a thrilling car chase and infiltrating a secret Nazi base, I managed to snatch it away from the mob just in the nick of time.  And I got to punch a Nazi flamethrower team while I was at it.

If that sounds like something you might enjoy, then this could be the game for you.

I recently bought a new board game: Mansions of Madness by Fantasy Flight Games.  I plan on writing an in-depth review soon, but for now, I’ll just say I’ve really enjoyed it.  Based loosely on Lovecraftian themes, one player takes on the role of The Keeper, controlling the monsters and obstacles the characters must face while the other players are Investigators, exploring a map and trying not to get killed or driven mad while doing so.  It’s a fairly unique game with some resemblance to a few others, most notably Betrayal at House on the Hill and Descent.   So far, it’s getting thumbs up from me, but I want to give it another play or two before really making up my mind.  Stay tuned.

Another fun game that I can definitely recommend is Thunderstone by AEG.  It’s a deckbuilding game, which is a genre that has blossomed recently.  Each player starts with a small deck of cards, and they draft more cards as the game progresses, adding and removing cards from their deck.  The goal is to build a strong enough deck that it can reliably kill the monsters populating the dungeon.  While I haven’t played any other deckbuilding games, Thunderstone is quickly becoming a favorite.  It’s extremely easy to teach, and rarely boring because player turns are fast and furious.  The semi-random nature of the monsters, heroes, and village supplies means that every game can be unique.  And if you add in the expansions, you literally have dozens upon dozens of card types where only a handful will ever be used in any game.  I enjoy the theme as well, so this one is definitely recommended.

Saw Unknown.  Good movie.  Heck of a cool car chase, which I always enjoy.  It’s not a “twisty” movie in the sense that it isn’t trying to surprise and shock you.  It’s up front with its plot points and if you’re paying attention at all, you really shouldn’t be surprised by the story.  But that’s not a bad thing.  It’s not the duty of the writer to impress you with how complicated he can make the story.  It’s to tell a good story that you’re glad you saw, and I found Unknown to be an entertaining, well-crafted film from top-to-bottom.  It engaged me, didn’t try to outsmart me, and ended up being good fun with some solid characters, great acting, and did I mention a kick ass car chase?

While I’m here, I’d like to go ahead and recommend I Am Number Four.  I don’t know how well it did at the box office, but by now, I expect that anything unapologetically fantastic is always dismissed as childish and beneath us.  I know nothing about the books is based on, but I Am Number Four is that rare film with good, relatable characters AND giant alien monster fights.

Number Four reminded me why I was so disappointed in Iron Man 2 because when we get to the climax of Number Four, a showdown between our heroes and a group of alien bounty hunters, we are treated to a smorgasbord of awesome.   In so many films of this nature, the showdown at the end is almost treated as an inconvenience.  “Fine.  I guess we’ll throw in a final battle because we’re supposed to, but let’s keep it short and simple.”  And it’s difficult for me to criticize this attitude because you so rarely hear anyone criticize adventure flicks for not having enough adventure.

But in Number Four‘s climax, we have blasters, teleporting, huge beasts, telekinesis, and cool martial arts.  These things are cool, and the way the film handles them is cool, too.  It’s a film I really liked which means it’ll probably be mocked by most.

Have I mentioned lately how astounded I am that I have a career?  Maybe it’s just easier in novelology than film.  It’s true that if Iwere writing screenplays, I’d have to reconsider a lot of the elements I write into a story.  But I’m a novelologist, and happy to be one.

Speaking of which, I should probably get back to work.  Catch you later, gang.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

- You play some kind of cool board or card game.  Might I recommend Sid Meyer’s Civilization: the board game by Fantasy Flight Games or the always engaging Sumo Ham Slam by Gameswright.  But hey, it’s your game.  Play whatever you want.  Even *shudder* Munchkin, if you are the sort who can enjoy that terrible, terrible game.  Not that I’m judging you.  I leave that to The Mighty Robot King, may he have mercy on your soul.

- You watch a monster movie.  It Came From Beneath the Sea or Godzilla: All Out Monster Attack are both excellent.  But if you prefer your monsters less city stomping, you can always go for Predator or Night of the Lepus.  You are also allowed to substitute a superhero or animated movie.  For best results, go with The Incredibles which is animated, has superheroes, and a giant robot attack for the A. LEE MARTINEZ APPRECIATION DAY!! trifecta. 

- You push my books on somebody.  Friends, family, strangers, mole people.  I don’t care who.  Just spread the word, if you don’t mind.  Much appreciated.

But enough about A. LEE MARTINEZ APPRECIATION DAY!!  It’s time to talk about important stuff.  It’s time to talk about the death of the traditional action film.

Action adventure is dead.  At least, as we might traditionally define it.  Or as I might.  And since it’s my site, I get to set the terms.

In fact, I predict (perhaps prematurely and foolishly) the death of live-action adventure in a few years.  We’re already halfway there.  Movies like Tron Legacy and Clash of the Titans are as much digital animation as live-action.  And while neither is a great film, they still are just part of a continuing trend.  Iron Man and Iron Man 2, both Hulk movies feature cartoons as their stars.  Well, not really.  Because live-action directors don’t generally enjoy working with cartoons, so we end up with films that feature actors delivering clever lines with bits of superhero cartoons thrown in reluctantly.

It’s not hard to figure out why.  Live-action directors like working with live actors.  They just aren’t comfortable with cartoons.  And who can really blame them for that?  All their experience, their training, their comfort zone is built on working and relating to real living people.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  It’s a great skill, and I in no way want to fault traditional acting and directing.  They are fine traditions and will continue to be so.  But they really don’t serve us well in the action adventure film genre anymore. 

Some might argue that we don’t want cartoons, but that’s only because they aren’t being honest.  There’s a little film called Avatar that made a gazillion dollars at the box office, and for all its hype, for all its talk of revolution and cutting edge, Avatar is just a really, really expensive cartoon with a few live action shots spliced into it.  The bulk of the film was created on computers.  It’s true that James Cameron used a lot of motion capture on the actors as sort of a crutch for him and the audience, but Avatar could’ve easily been done entirely via animation and it wouldn’t have suffered for it.

Well, it wouldn’t have made as much money.  I’ll admit that.  But the days of animation as a sub-genre, as a very specific type of film, are rapidly drawing to a close.  Every year, we get more and more animated films.  Sure, they continue to pretend that they’re not cartoons, but they are.  And there’s great reason for that.  Animation gives us tremendous creativity in direction, especially in fantasy realms.

I was thinking this when I watched Megamind.  Why would anyone bother making a live-action superhero film?  Everything about superheroes works in animated form.  In live-action, it tends to look silly.   And while Megamind is a fun film, The Incredibles remains the greatest superhero movie ever.  Don’t even bother arguing with me about that.  The Incredibles has everything a great superhero movie should have.  It has adventure, great characters, an engaging storyline, robot fights.  And the acting in the film, from voice to animation, is topnotch and more subtle than anything you’d find in any of the Spider-Man films.

It’s time to admit that virtual acting is just as powerful and legitimate as the tried-and-true flesh-and-blood version we’re accustomed to.  And that as we continue to wade deeper and deeper, as the line between live-action and digital become murkier and murkier, that there’s really nothing live-action can do that animation can’t.  Especially in terms of fantastic realms and unbelievable action.

Live-action will remain viable.  It’s fine for producing most types of stories.  But if you want to do a kick-ass lightcycle race, a giant robot fight, or go to Mars, animation is the way to go.  And since animation can produce brilliant acting too, I just don’t see why we can’t admit this.

Naturally, there’s resistance.  Most of it comes from the studios themselves, who are so accustomed to marketing via famous actors that they really aren’t sure how else to get people to see a film.  So they’ll make a big deal about the voice actors because that’s something they can grasp.  Yet Pixar continues to shine as the preeminent animation studio and rarely, if ever, resorts to this promotional tactic.  They’ve proven that animation can be hugely successful without having to rely on go-to marketing ploys.

Once the studios relinquish their reliance on “movie stars” (which is still a long way off, I’ll grant), as a new generation of animation directors continue to push the boundaries of digital adventure, and as animation technology continues to advance, we’ll really have no choice but to move forward.  Live-action will always have a place.  It works beautifully for most stories.  But the second you throw a giant robot on the screen or have a horde of aliens or decide to blow up a planet, well, it’s time to think about whether or not you’re making a cartoon.  Because you probably are, and that’s not a bad thing at all.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Just signed a couple of contracts:  one for my current project, another for audio books, and another for a movie option.  It’s both incredibly cool and incredibly weird.  It’s safe to say I’m doing far better as a novelologist than I ever expected to do.  I’m still mid-list at best (and probably not even that), but this is a tough business.  A lot of people want to do this.  So many that it strikes me as absurd that I get paid to do it.  But I do.  And thanks to everyone, big and small, who makes that possible.

So I play World of Warcraft.  I play it too much.  But I really like the game (and of course I’m not alone).  Currently, I’m working on a Tauren Paladin, but I hop around.  I’m in a solid guild now, full of cool people, and we’ve even taken to some raiding, which is pretty cool since I’ve never really done that before.

One of the things I love about WoW is the people.  It’s pure science fiction that I can log onto my computer and play a game with people across the world.  People I would never meet in real life or if I did meet them, I’d have nothing in common with.  But in this virtual realm, in this land of digital adventure, I’ve discovered a meeting place for friends and acquantainces I’d have never known.  Oh, sure, they’re not real friends in that they can’t help me move and I don’t know much about their real lives.  But I do know I can count on them to help me kill giant dragons and dare Ice Crown Citadel.  And that’s gotta count for something, right?

I also play a lot of tabletop games, and recently, I acquired one I’d like to recommend.  Sid Meyer’s Civilization: The Board Game by Fantasy Flight Games is great fun.  Almost beat for beat, an adaptation of the computer game, it still manages to be accessible and easy to play.  I wouldn’t really call it a civilization building game because your nation will only have 3 cities at the most and it’s entirely possible to have railroads and not horseback riding.  But as a game allowing you to experience the journey of nation via broad strokes, it’s fantastic.  Highly recommended.

Finally, let’s go ahead and talk about writing because that’s what I do and this allows me to pretend like I’m an authority.

I’m sure someone has said this already and much better than I, but storytelling revolves around emotion.  That’s what’s makes or breaks every story.  It’s not about great sentences or poetic expression.  Those things help, but ultimately, if you can instill an emotion in your audience, then you’ve succeeded.

I love Edgar Rice Burroughs novels, yet most of them are stilted, written in a dated style.  It doesn’t matter to me though because I have a visceral connection with most of his worlds and characters.  I love Tarzan because I can relate to his outsider’s perspective.  More importantly, it allows me to see the world from a whole new angle.  It’s not just that I can relate to Tarzan, but that he allows me to experience things I never will.  His reactions, his character, make those situations tangible.  They open new windows.

When Tarzan’s ape mother was killed by natives, I felt Tarzan’s pain.  And when Tarzan discovered civilization, I experienced his confusion.  And when he strangled a Russian villain to death for daring to threaten Tarzan’s family, I felt his rage and power.  And while I, as a civilized human being, never imagine myself strangling anyone (and hope to The Mighty Robot King that it never comes up in real life) I can relate to Tarzan and his way of viewing the world because the stories make a boy raised by apes and make him real somehow.  Believable?  Not for a minute.  But still somehow someone who I know.

I watched Tangled this weekend, and it was really very good.  Very, very good.  And I think I liked it so much because it struck all the right emotional notes.  Even the songs are built around universal dreams and desires, whether it’s Rapunzel singing about waiting for her life to begin, having a dream, or falling in love.  These notions are so basic that almost all of us can understand them.

The funny thing is that I don’t know if a good story needs to be founded on emotional relatability or if emotional relatability can be relied to happen on with good writing.  It’s almost as if it needs to happen as a byproduct, that if a writer tries too hard to invest his story with emotion that it’ll just come across as forced and obnoxious.  Not always, of course.  And even as individuals we have different assessments of what works or doesn’t.  Still, I’ve always felt that worrying too much about theme or emotion before writing is putting the cart before the horse.  Maybe it’s just the way I write, but I like to discover the emtional resonance of what I’m writing while I’m writing it.  It always seems to end up the stronger for it.

It brings up an interesting question (to me at least).  Is it necessary to study story structure, theme, and other such writerly pursuits to write a good story?  I can see why it could be helpful, but at the same time, it seems the more a writer obsesses over these things, the less natural they can become.  Or not.  I don’t have the answers, and I can’t even pretend that I do.  I could write the greatest novel of all time, and it still wouldn’t mean I knew why it was the greatest.

Except maybe that it will most likely have a slime monster in it.  And probably a giant robot fight.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

As I’m sure you’re well aware (being my fans and all) I’m a guy who likes to play games.  I don’t like using the word “gamer” because it implies a certain cultural niche that just doesn’t sit well with me.  Also, when most people hear the word they think of video games, and while I was once an avid video game player, those days seem behind me.  I’m perfectly happy with my Wii and WoW, and while I’m sure I’d enjoy a PS3 or an Xbox360, I don’t really have the motivation to buy them.

I really like board and card games and like to occasionally post something about the topic to help bring some attention to this marginalized hobby.  There are more of us out there than society realizes, and I’m always happy to tempt more into the enjoyable experience of sitting at a table, sharing a good time with friends as you crush them beneath your heel.

Or, to get more to the point, here’s a game I’d like to recommend.

DEATH ANGEL by FANTASY FLIGHT GAMES (www.fantasyflightgames.com)

There’s a new breed of game that’s gained popularity recently.  It’s the cooperative game, where instead of competing against each other, they try to work together to win the game.  There are quite of few of these types of games now, and many are very good.  My personal favorite is RED NOVEMBER (also by FFG), a fantastic board game where gnomes run around in a malfunctioning submarine, trying to survive until recue.  There’s also PANDEMIC, FORBIDDEN ISLAND, ARKHAM HORROR, SPACE ALERT, and a few others I haven’t even played like DEFENDERS OF THE REALM.

Death Angel is a game set in the Warhammer 40k universe.  It’s a universe of constant war, where the best you can hope for is a glorious death, and everybody hates everybody.  Seriously.  The word “grim” and “dark” both appear on the cover of the box for Death Angel  without a hint of irony.  Death Angel is inspired by a specific game called SPACE HULK where two players duke it out on an adrift spaceship in a battle to the death.  It’s space marines vs. aliens before the concept was overdone to the point of cliche.  It’s a fun board game, though a bit pricy and hard to find.

Fortunately, Death Angel does the seemingly impossible and manages to capture the experience of an $80 board game and distill it into a beautiful card game.  Anyone who has ever played Space Hulk knows the drill.  Cramped quarters.  Aliens at every turn.  Marines hopelessly outnumbered, gunning down monsters by the dozens only to have them continue to crop up.  Do you rush forward?  Do you hold position?  Watching the aliens (or being them) as they close in for the kill.  It’s a tense, exciting game, and Death Angel is as close as you can get to the experience without having a flesh-ripping monster spit in your eye.

This is a great game.  It’s a reasonable $26 and, even better, the box is of such compact dimensions that you can easily carry it in one hand, stick it in a suitcase for easy travel, or otherwise tote it with ease.  While it can take a lot of table space when laid out, it’s still a streamlined and easily transported game.  The game supports from 1 to 6 players, and as a solitair game, I find it immensly more satisfying than . . . well, Solitaire.

I won’t get into the rules because, though the game is actually very simple once you get the hang of it, it has to be played to understood.  And you will make mistakes the first few times you play, but the game plays quick so it’s not as if you can’t get enough practice in.

What makes the game rewarding is its replayability.  A nifty semi-random layout system means that you can never be quite sure what’s coming next.  The aliens move and attack with cruel efficiency, flanking and maneuvering in deadly packs.  And you have just enough choices to keep it interesting without being overwhelming.  In particular, I love that every player gets one or more pairs of combat teams at their disposal, each with their own unique feel.  Will you be the flamer team, with the deadly cleansing flames at your disposal?  Or the librarian team, with amazing psychic powers?  Each team does better at some things than others, and using them to the utmost is key to completing the mission.

Most fun, is that you never really know what your victory condition is until the end.  The game is a journey that you can never be sure of.  Except that you will probably be killed because genestealers take no prisoners and one mistake can destroy your squad of marines.

Game over, man!  Game over!  It’s a bug hunt!

Great fun.  Highly recommended.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Yes, my friends, it is indeed.  A. LEE MARTINEZ APPRECIATION DAY!! is upon us once again, and while I’m sure all of you are up on the traditional festivities (play a board game, watch a monster movie, push A. Lee Martinez novels on friends / family / loved ones / strangers / enemies), not everyone knows that, by The Supreme Directive of The Mighty Robot King, you are required to read any blog post I write on this day.

Believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do.  But trust me, you do not want to get on The Mighty Robot King’s bad side.  Before you know it, you’ll be up to your elbows in avenging dinobots and wrathful planet-devouring androids the size of the moon.  And nobody wants that.  So just sit back.  Relax.  Read this post at your leisure.  And know that in doing so, you’re placating the wrath of our all-powerful mechanical deity.

I’ve said it before, but I find that as I grow older, I have more and more appreciation for the absurd and the fun.  This is probably why I’ve outgrown so many things I used to love.  Although thinking about it, “outgrown” is probably the wrong word.

Take comics.  Modern comics are so dark, mature, and convuluted that they take all the fun out of people with strange powers beating each other up.  The most powerful villain in Marvel Comics at the moment is a beauracrat.  The stories of late resolve around mega crossover, soap opera style events that tie every single comic together into one giant story.  I won’t comment on the qualities of these stories because that’s fairly subjective.  But I will suggest that very few comics are actually fun anymore.  The reasons for this are way too complicated to get into, and I don’t even know if this is a good or a bad thing.  But it’s just the way it is.

The best comics I’ve read in the last year were Atomic Robo, We Kill Monsters, Lockjaw & the Pet Avengers, Beasts of Burden, and Casper & the Spectrals.  Of these comics, Beasts of Burden was probably the most “adult”, and it’s about a group of dogs and a cat who fight supernatural evil.  Both Lockjaw & the Pet Avengers are all ages.

Oh, and there was Dr. Doom and the Masters of Evil.  I think that came out last year.  It was the best thing produced by Marvel Comics in a long, long time.  An epic 4-part limited series focused on Dr. Doom’s quest for ultimate power.  It managed, through a rare kind of magic, to be dark, brooding, fantastic, mature, and fun without resorting to swearing, gore, or anything even remotely edgy.  This was an all-ages comic that manages to explore a genuinely dark protagonist with more subtlety and intelligence than pretty much anything else out there.

Although Lockjaw & The Pet Avengers had a group of super animals fighting a giant red dinosaur.  So maybe it’s a toss up for greatest comic of all time.

Video games are the same thing to me now.  I notice that the games that get commercials on TV and exposure on G4 are all the dark, grown up games.  I got a Wii this Christmas, and right now, I’m enjoying the heck out of Super Mario Galaxy and Little King’s Story.  Neither game features realistic graphics.  Both are absurd adventures.  Whether you’re playing as a plucky Italian plumber facing off against an obnoxious, fire-breathing turtle tyrant or taking on the role of a boy king sending his army of grunts, miners, hunters, carpenters, and chefs into battle against a clockwork knight, there’s something unique and wonderful about these games.

It’s not that I’m a prude.  I don’t care if there’s swearing and blood in my media.  But I’m definitely over blood and profanity for their own sake.  Too often they’re crutches.  They’re used to present the illusion of sophistication, but sophistication isn’t found in making superheroes swear or the number of polygons that make up a video game sprite.  If only it were that easy to quantify.

So I finally saw the preview for the Percy Jackson & the Olympians movie, based on the books.  The strange thing is that I wrote this story already.  Several years ago.  Okay, technically I only wrote half of it.  And I never published it.  But just watching the preview, I saw things I’d put in my own reluctant demi-god story.  In my demi-god story, a character is attacked by an old lady who is actually a harpy in disguise.  In my demi-god story, the hero has to fight a hydra.  In my demi-god story, demi-gods are hunted by dark forces.

Similarities are inevitable when stories draw on similar source material.  I certainly can’t suggest that the Percy Jackson story was stolen from me (unless they were able to burrow into my dreams), and I can’t say that my ideas were stolen from them (unless I have amazing powers of foresight).  It’s just coincidence.  I say this because too often people are accused of stealing popular ideas when it’s just as likely that someone just came up with something similar, drawing on similar ideas.

Finally, I’d like to take a moment to reflect on just how lucky I am to be here.  Sure, I’m talented, intelligent, witty, able to bend spoons with my mind, and capable of levitating a few feet off the ground for several minutes at a time, but I am still basically a guy who is paid to make up stories.  I’m good at it, but being good at something doesn’t always mean you are fortunate to get paid for it.  I’m pretty good at thinking up cool nicknames for people, for example, and I can stick my whole fist into my mouth.  Yet nobody seems ready to pay me for these things.

So thanks, gang.  I’ve said it before.  I’m sure I’ll say it again.  But I’m grateful for all your support.  Now go enjoy your A. LEE MARTINEZ APPRECIATION DAY!! monster movie (might I suggest Godzilla 2000 or It Came From Beneath the Sea?).  Have fun with your board game (Small World anyone?).  And push my books, gangs.

There.  End of the official A. LEE MARTINEZ APPRECIATION DAY!! blog post.  You’re free to go.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Bottom Line:  I wasted way too much time writing this to just let it go.  So maybe if you’re really bored, you can read it.  Or not.  It’s your call.

I should be writing.  I’m behind in my latest manuscript, and I’d like to get it done soon.  But it’s late.  I’m tired.  And so in an effort to fool my brain into thinking I’m productive, I’m going to write a blog entry instead and then go to bed.

As any regular reader of these posts knows, I’m a skeptic.  In particular, I think ghosts and the paranormal are complete bunk.  Nonsense.  Balderdash.  Foofurall.  You get the idea.

Still, I find myself watching “reality” ghost hunting shows in whatever form they appear.  There’s the pseudoscientific approach of shows like Ghost Hunters & Ghost Lab.  There’s the supernatural evil approach of shows like Paranormal State & Extreme Paranormal.  There’s the scaredy cat, run from spooky noises style of Most Haunted & Ghost Adventures.  The style may differ a bit, but the message is always the same.  Ghosts are real, and these folks have proof.

Sort of.  It all depends on what you consider “proof”.  If a weird sound caught on garbled audio recordings or a shadow you can’t readily identify qualify as “proof”, then they’ve got you covered.  If you want bleeding walls, geniune apparitions, or even a single levitation or bent spoon, then you’re outta luck.

So let’s just assume for a second that there are no such things as ghosts and that the paranormal is just a figment of our collective imagination.  I know.  It’s a stretch, a leap of faith.  So many people believe in ghosts, have had unexplained encounters, have experienced the paranormal on a personal basis.  They can’t all be fooling themselves.  They can’t all be mistaken, can they?

But what if they are?  What if the spooky feeling we get in a darkened room is just a trick of our paranoid, reptillian brain?  What if cold spots are just cold spots?  What if EVP is just our fevered intellect trying to make sense of confusing sensory experience?  And what if every scary “true life” ghost story you’ve ever heard, seen, or read is either a lie or a mistake?

That, to me, is scarier than any ghost or goblin.

My theory on human behavior (which I assume is hardly original and has probably been thought up ages ago by people far smarter than me) is that most of us are incapable of accepting the possibilty of self-deception.  Not just in ourselves, but in everyone.  Especially anyone we trust or who seems trustworthy.  We believe people can lie.  We know people can lie.  Because we lie.  All of us.  All the time.  Most of these are harmless, and that’s no big deal.  But we do know that people can lie and do so regularly.

But the idea that someone might think they’re telling the truth and just be wrong is different.  It’s not something we like to think about.  On a primal level, I think it’s because we have to trust our senses because, for the most part, they keep us on track.  It’s my sense of sight that lets me see the words I write right now, and my fingers feel the keys as I type.  I don’t usually walk into walls.  I know if my milk has gone bad after a taste.  And while I have a lousy sense of smell, if something catches on fire, I’ll usually smell the smoke.  Without our senses, we’re just a lump of fat squished in a stumbling, bumbling cage of meat.

But let’s talk about something deeper than just a trust of our senses.  What we’re really worried about is trusting our judgment.  Because without judgment, how can we really trust anything.  A failing of judgment is what separates fears from phobias.  If you get put off by spiders, you’re normal.  If you huddle in the corner and shriek at the mere sight of one, then you’re not.  If you believe that Jesus loves you and going to church is good for you, you’re normal.  If you think Jesus loves you and wants you to kill French Canadians, you’re not.

We do understand crazy people because there are enough examples.  Extreme, bizarre, and unconventional behavior distinguishes itself in the looney category.  It’s weird, sometimes unsettling, but since it’s clearly looney, it’s no big deal.  If you’re best friend came to you and said he was King of Atlantis and was preparing to wage war on the USA with his magic spatula, you’d probably back away slowly.

But what if your friend told you they saw a ghost?  Not so easy, is it?  Because even if your friend is mistaken, they’re not really acting crazy.  Until they start blowing themselves up or drinking poison or wrestling bears for kicks.  Then they cross a clear line.  It says, “This person is unstable, confused, and dangerous”.  And it’s easy to identify.

But when I watch the ghost hunting shows, I find myself thinking more and more that these people are just a little looney.  They have convinced themselves of something that isn’t there.  Perhaps it’s because they place too much faith in their senses and the senses of others.

Rarely in these shows does the possibilty of self-deception ever come up.  The usual course of investigation is to ask yourself if someone or something you know caused the phenomena (I use the term loosely).  Then you ask if someone is faking it.  But hardly ever is the question asked, “Are we misinterpreting this data?”

Watch a ghost hunting show.  Really.  Do it.  Just once.  Even if you don’t believe in ghosts (and even if you do).  And notice how rarely the participants ever suggest this possibility.

Because to believe that is against our natures.  More importantly, to believe that is to question our judgment at its core.  If ghosts are not real and merely a shared self-deception of most of the terran species, even otherwise perfectly sane and functional human beings, then all bets are off when you think about it.

Most everyone on these ghost hunting shows seems normal.  They are normal.  In most everyday situations, they function fine.  The Ghost Hunters are plumbers with families and homes and ordinary lives outside of their ghost hunting activities.  The demon fighters of Paranormal State seem like nice, congenial kids.  The Ghost Adventures dudes are goofballs, but they aren’t dangerous goofballs.  And if they weren’t lucky enough to get paid to run around empty buildings, jumping at shadows, I’m sure they could be productive members of society.  Well, not willing to bet on it, but let’s just assume they could hold a job and manage not to walk into traffic.  The people who believe in ghosts, tarot, astrology, psychic powers, and holistic medicine are a varied lot, and in most situations, they are indistinguishable from people such as myself (aka The Skeptics).

But what if they’re wrong?  What if in this one area, they’re mistaken?

And just to play my own devil’s advocate, what if I’m wrong?  What if astrology works?  What if germ theory is incorrect?  What if evolution is just a big wrong track?

I don’t believe this to be true, but this belief is only as sound as my judgment.  And the one thing my judgment can never really judge is itself.  Whoa.  I think I just went zen there.

My point (and I do have one finally if you stuck with this long enough) is that a healthy questioning of our own perceptions is important, even necessary to be a functional person.  We must never take our assumptions for granted, always be ready to discard old ideas, no matter how sacred.

If you think about it, this is a constant process throughout our history.  The religions of today are not the religions of yesterday.  The science of old has been replaced with more up to date knowledge.  Theories of government, biology, human behavior, astronomy, etc., etc., etc. have all evolved.  This is undeniable, even if you don’t believe in evolution.  And this is a good thing, and the world is a better place (overall) for it.

Skepticism is important.  Skepticism works.  But it works best when we’re willing to admit that we have to even be skeptical of ourselves.  Unless you take it too far, I suppose and refuse to take anything for granted.  In which case, you’re a looney.  Or living in the matrix, although for that to make any sense your body would have to produce enough energy to power a giant robot and that would violate the laws of thermodynamics.  Personally, I find that harder to believe than ghosts.

But that’s just me.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Bought a new board game.  Twilight Imperium by Fantasy Flight Games.  It’s a big galactic conquest board game.  How big?  I recently bought two six foot long folding tables and side-by-side, they have barely enough room for the whole setup.

I’m having some friends over Sunday for a Twilight Imperium event.  Yes, a wild day of playing board games.  This is a peek into the exciting life of a professional novelologist.

Strange.  If you’d have told me only a few years ago that I’d be throwing a board game party, and that this board game would be a monster galactic conquest game that takes 5 -7 hours to play, and that I would actually have enough friends to fill out the 6 players maximum (with friends to spare), I’d probably think you were crazy.

Got some very cool news about the Gil’s All Fright Diner film project.  Not sure if I can give any more details than that right now, so I’ll just say that the possibility of a movie getting made is one step closer.  It’s a long road, but who knows?  Maybe it’ll happen.  Considering how lucky I’ve been in my career at this point, I think it’s possible.  But my cautious optimism says don’t push it.  Wait and see.

That film Brothers looks like a real feel-good film, doesn’t it?  I honestly don’t get the appeal of stuff like that.  Not just because of the lack of ninja assassins or robots either.  I just don’t see why people want to watch unhappy people in uncomfortable situations.  One of the reasons I’ve never been a fan of The Office.  But at least Toby McGuire finally gets to put his “serial killer eyes” to good use.  (In the words of someone I used to know.)

The older I get, the less I want to see films like this.  Life sucks.  Life is hard.  Joy and fun is hard to find.  I’d much rather spend an evening with friends, pretending to conquer the universe via plastic spaceships and dice, than watch a snoozefest depressathon that reminds me of how ugly reality can be.

So Tiger Woods is possibly a jerk.  And this matters to me because . . . ?  Seriously, I’m just wondering.  I know we like to prop professional athletes as role models, but there’s no rule that says being good at a sport requires you to be a good person.  This is hardly a shocking revelation at this point.  As far as I can tell, he slept around behind his wife’s back.  Crappy thing to do, but as crimes against humanity go, I’d probably give him a pass.