But, like any addiction, I can’t always stop myself, even though I really could probably go my whole life without buying another game and still have more than enough games to keep from getting bored.  So I recently purchased two games, and here’s my thoughts.

First up, INCURSION by Grindhouse Games.  (www.incursiongame.com)

Incursion is of the alternate history genre.  Of course those wacky Nazis are at it again, employing the standard fantasy-horror elements of S&M themed villainess, mutants, zombies, and werewolves.  On the side of the Allies are (unsurprisingly) American G.I.s in power armor because . . . well, why the hell not?

This is, sad to say, pretty standard stuff.  It’s strange to say that occult Nazis and techno-Americans is familiar territory at this point.  I’m waiting for someone to mix that trope up.  How about an alternate WW2 where the Axis powers are the techno guys and the Allies are the ones using zombies?  I know that Nazis are the classic bad guys, and only bad guys use the walking dead, but still, it’s just getting silly at this point, isn’t it?

Okay, so who cares?  The theme of the game is less important than the game itself.  And Incursion, despite its worn formula, is actually a pretty fun little game.  It’s an extremely fast, extremely simple firefight in a maze kind of thing.  I immediately thought of Tannhauser, another game with the exact same theme.  But where Tannhauser is excessivly complicated and burdened with an extremely silly line-of-sight system (the so-called Pathfinder system.  The less said about it, the better), Incursion operates on a far more intuitive level.

The game comes with a handy reference sheet that contains all the rules.  While there’s also a rulebook, it really isn’t necessary, although it does contain the scenarios.  Still, the game works so simply and the reference sheet is so user friendly that this is a very accessible game.

There is one unique element to the game (at least to me).  It’s the Command Card rules.  Players draw command cards that can be used to give advantages or disadvantages.  Every Command Card can be “killed” by spending Command Points.  Those Command Points can also be used to give your characters extra actions per turn and also determine who goes first most rounds via blind bidding.  This is really where most the decision making is found in the game.  If your opponent plays a “Low Ammo” card on one of your soldiers, do you spend those precious Command Points to get rid of it, or do you tough it out?  You can always kill any card, just as long as you’re willing to lose the points.  The points are replenished every turn, but you never really have enough.

Incursion is a nice introduction to squad-themed combat.  There’s nothing complicated here.  You don’t have to worry about tracking ammo, and you can pick up and play within half-an-hour.  The components are nice.  Pieces are all cardboard, inculding cardboard standees for the soldiers, and reference cards for each of the units in play makes everything simple.  Heck, I’ll admit that even the worn out theme appeals to me because who doesn’t like a good ol-fashioned Nazi zombie with a landmine strapped to its chest?

The only problem I see with the game is that it only comes with one double-sided board which limits replayability.  One of the things I look for in a game like this is the ability to spice things up and switch things up.  You can’t really do that with this game.  You can throw a few doors in different places, but that’s about it.  The scenarios do a good job of offering a variety of missions with a variety of objectives, but I can see this game getting predictable eventually.  Despite this flaw, it’s a fun game with a good presentation and clear, accessible rules.

As games like this go, you could do a lot worse.  I give it a pass.  Not a must buy, but a worthwhile one if you decide to give it a shot.

Next up, THOSE PESKY HUMANS by Minion Games. (www.miniongames.com)  In many ways, this game is a lot like Incursion.  It’s by a company I’ve never heard of, and it’s about a battle in an underground lair.  The presentation is even similar because all the figures are represented by surprisingly colorful cardboard stand ups.

Those Pesky Humans is a dungeon crawl-themed game.  Yes, I already have several of these type games.  Most notably, Decent by Fantasy Flight Games, which is an excellent game but complex and time consuming and not without its flaws.  I initially bought Those Pesky Humans hoping it would be a lighter version of Decent, like Munchkin but without being so damned annoying.

Unfortunately, despite a nice presentation and some cool ideas, Those Pesky Humans feels like a game that should’ve spent more time in the development.  It’s not a bad game, but it just seems . . . unfinished. 

The object for the humans is to raid the dungeon, grab the three legendary gems, and escape.  The object for the monster player is to stop them.  Some unusual choices seem to get in the way of the making the game truly enjoyable.  In most games like this, you can’t walk through enemy figures, but the monsters don’t get in the humans’ way.  So there’s no real reason for the humans to try and fight them.  The adventurers are just better off dashing and grabbing.

The problem is that the monster player has a virtual unlimited supply of monsters.  All he’s required to do is play cards to summon them onto the board.  Every minion requires at least 2 hits to kill, and since in most circumstances, 1 hit is all an attack can do, the players will end up wasting a lot of time killing monsters that just respawn almost immediately.  It’s a losing fight, which might be the intention, but it’s such an obvious losing proposition that most human players will immediately see the pointlessness in it.

The monster player also gets to place the chests that contain the gems.  Only three of the ten chests containt he gems.  The rest contain traps, and I admit I find it annoying that the humans are discouraged from opening chests.  The various rooms of the lair all contain different treasures and some have special rules that can effect the humans or the monsters.  Yet even these rules seem tacked on and rather insignificant.

Every human and the ogre master fo the dungeon each get three special ability cards that can be used once per game.  The problem is that these abilities just aren’t that useful for the most part.  Furthermore, aside from a small customization, none of the human characters feel all that different.  It seems strange to me that the wizard character must be adjacent to attack monsters just like the paladin.  Or that the thief can bypass doors but not trapped chests.  Ultimately, the only thing that really distinguishes the different human characters are their three basic stats, but those are just numbers and lack personality.

And that’s where I think Those Pesky Humans comes up short.  It’s well-presented.  Especially fun is the art, which is cartoony and colorful in a Sergio Argones style.  But the game itself isn’t quite equal to it.  It’s a good idea but a deeply flawed execution.

Also, one final problem I have is that the Ogre who runs the dungeon is pretty tough, and if the humans manage to kill him, they get one turn where he can’t play cards on them . . . and that’s it.  Any monsters in the dungeon still get to attack.  And he comes back on the next turn.  It hardly seems a pressing penalty to the monster player, and once again makes me ask why the humans would bother fighting the ogre when they can just outrun him?

Oh, and while I’m not usually the kind of guy to nitpick on this stuff, I have to say the card quality is a little bit iffy.  The cardstock is thin and some of my cards were already a bit worn right out of the box.

Is it a terrible game?  No.  Is it worth purchasing?  I’d probably say not, although if you’re a light gamer looking for something simple and don’t mind a few ambigious rules here and there, it could probably entertain you for a while.  So in the final verdict, I have to give Those Pesky Humans a rating of Pass On It. 

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

LEGION

The premise to Legion was promising.  If you’ve read the Bible (or have even a passing knowledge of it) then you know God (in the Old Testament & quite a bit in the New Testament as well) could be a capricious and vengeful sort.  And, despite what Michael Landon or Dela Reese might want you to believe, angels could be brutally effective killing machines.  Everyone already knows this, and that’s just fine.  It means that Legion doesn’t really have to do much work to justify its premise.

But somehow, it still feels it has to do all that work anyone.  Strike One.

Secondly, despite its promise to unleash a legion of vengeful angels upon the world, this is just another zombie movie.  The movie only has two actual angels in it, and one of those loses his wings within seconds of the start of the film.  Strike Two.

Finally, the zombies . . . er, angels of this movie are that most unforgivable of zombie types.  No, I’m not talking about fast VS. slow.  I’m talking about dumb VS. smart.  Zombies HAVE to be stupid.  Otherwise, a zombie apocalypse isn’t very interesting because nobody is going to survive.  Zombies that can think, plan, and strategize destroy any sense of conflict in the story.  The zombies in Legion are smart.  Except they’re not.  They’re stupid because they have to be, and that’s just stupid.  Strike Three.

The whole time I was watching Legion I kept wondering why, if the zombies have been appointed by God to kill this one woman and her baby, why didn’t they just drive a semi-truck into that rinky dink diner?  Or, if they would prefer to be more subtle, they could just charge headlong into the diner until everyone ran out of bullets.  Even stupid zombies understand that strategy.

The problem with Legion is that it’s just so damned generic.  Even the possessed in this film (possessed by angels, I remind you) are as generically villainous as they can be.  Why would angels use Satanic imagery?  Why would angels, who are basically just doing their job, resort to grade Z Freddy Kruegar taunts?  Because . . . well, because . . . well, it beats the hell out of me.

Michael and Gabriel are the most interesting characters in the film, and if there was more of their conflict, it could’ve been interesting.  Perhaps it was giving the film too much credit, but I imagined our two angels representing different sides of God himself.  Michael represents his introspective, hopeful side.  Gabriel is his vengeful, singularly focused side.  Their battle represents a metaphysical internal struggle in the Creatror’s psyche, manifest in a kick ass fight.

That’s probably giving the film too much credit though.  Still, I did like when Michael and Gabriel fought because it was nice to see some actual angels in a movie about angels.  Aside from that though, there’s nothing exceptional about Legion, either good or bad.  Just middle of the road.

ALICE IN WONDERLAND

Have you seen a Tim Burton film before?  Then you’ve seen Alice in Wonderland.  If you’re up for more of the same gothic wackiness then go for it.  Otherwise, there’s nothing new being brought to the table here.

One point I do have to voice a gripe with is the idea that this is in any way a female empowerment film when it’s just not.  I’m not going to say it’s anti-feminist because it’s not either, but when it comes to empowerment in general, I put it in neutral.

The idea that Alice is a chosen warrior seems anti-empowering to me.  That’s why I’ve never liked the idea of destiny as a plot device.  It just removes anything interesting about a character.  It says, “You’ve been chosen” and that’s the end of it.  You can’t blow it.  You don’t have any choice in the matter.  And without choice, how can one have empowerment?

It’s the old free will VS. predestination debate, I know, and I’m not sure at all where I stand on the issue in real life.  In fiction though, I hate it.

The movie tells Alice right at the beginning that she has to fight the Jabberwocky and that she has no choice in the matter.  It then has her run around for most of the movie saying she’s not going to do it when we already know she is.  Even that is forgivable, except the movie reminds us a couple of times of how insignificant Alice.

The vorpal sword is the Jabberwocky’s archenemy.  Not Alice.  Her only role is to hold onto the sword.  She’s a tool for the weapon.  The weapon is not a tool for her.  That’s not empowerment.  It’s just being a cog in a cosmic machine, which is almost the opposite of empowerment.  Maybe that’s just my perspective though.

Also, I’m not usually one to invoke phallic imagery because when you get right down to it, nearly everything long, straight, and hard can be phallic, but Alice’s moment of “empowerment” arrives when she grasps a sword (traditionally phallic) that she doesn’t even control.  I’m not Freudian (in fact, I think Freud has been proven to be mostly full of crap), but even I have to pause at that one.

DELGO

Odds are good, you have not seen Delgo.  I’ll save you some time and just say, it’s not very good.

Delgo is an animated feature that manages to be off putting and uninteresting at the same time.  I could point out that the plot is too complicated while still managed to be incredibly generic, but I’d like to talk about the art of animation instead because this is where the movie fails most spectacularly.

Let’s begin with the character design.  Everybody looks alike.  If it wasn’t for their clothes, you couldn’t tell them apart.  Some have wings.  Some don’t.  Other than that, it’s a crapshoot.  I’m assuming that the character design team did this on purpose.  Rather than have extreme designs, they weren’t for something more realistic in terms of proportion and design.  And they ended up right in the middle of the uncanny valley.

Animation is, above all, about action.  It’s about movement and life and energy.  Even understated animated features will have some moments of life to them.  Delgo has more scenes where characters are sitting around and talking than any other animated feature I’ve seen in a while.  Pixar and Dreamworks can make a talking scene work, but it’s always with the understanding of how important the smallest bits of animation can become in these scenes.

Ultimately, Delgo fails because it’s a series of well-meaning mistakes.  I don’t doubt that many people worked very, very hard to make this film.  They just didn’t end up with anything worth watching aside from a how-to-not-make-an-animated feature instructional video.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

I’m really jazzed about this, gang.  While I think Dreamworks Animation has always been tops in the quality of their animation, it was really with Kung Fu Panda that I think they hit their stride.  I absolutely loved Kung Fu Panda, every bit as much as Pixar’s Wall-E.  I don’t know if Panda topples The Incredibles as my favorite movie ever, but it is still a fantastic, beautiful, wonderful film that deserves more respect than it generally gets.  And often lost amid the funny animal characters, the wild kung fu action, and physical comedy, there’s a great story there that a lot of people miss.  Great characters, terrific story arcs, and subtleties that any writer should be proud of.  So I couldn’t be happier that anyone associated with Dreamworks in general or this fine film in particular are associated with a Gil’s movie project.

Obviously, Dreamworks won’t be going R on this.  And I’m cool with that.  It’s true that Gil’s has swearing in it.  And violence.  And sex.  But these elements don’t define Gil’s for me.  I never imagine Gil’s as a gruesome place to visit.  And the sex is so mild that an article in the Chicago newspaper detailing all the lurid “controversy” over the book reprinted the most graphic scene word for word.  The swearing is part of Earl’s character, but there are ways of showing a character is cranky without having them curse every other sentence.

Does it sound like I’m compromising?  Depends on how you look at it.

Frankly, while I have nothing against swearing, violence, or sex in cinema, I also realize that most of my sensibilities as a writer are better for animation than live action.  Gil’s is a weird horror fantasy novel about vampires, werewolves, ghosts, zombies, and monster gods.  In the Company of Ogres is all about fantastic characters like ogres, goblins, and demons.  Too Many Curses has nary an ordinary human in it.  The Automatic Detective is about a hulking seven foot robot who fights mutant mob bosses and giant slime monsters in a city of the retro-future.  I like monsters and weirdness and when you get a lot of that stacked on top of itself, after a while, the movie audience will be turned off.

Unless you go animated.  You can do almost anything animated and if it’s good, the audience will play along.  Just check out Up, a moving story about an old man who flies his house with balloons, befriends a boyscout, goes on an adventure where he must help a strange bird escape the clutches of a mad explorer who flies a zeppelin and uses an army of talking dogs.  This would just not work live action.  It would seem bizarre, ridiculous.  But animated…it is the best film I’ve seen all year, hands down.  Touching and beautiful and absurd all at the same time.

Kung Fu Panda seems more grounded in reality to some degree, yet the kung fu element which I so love about the film circumvents all sense of realism.  Characters leap hundreds of feet in the air, punch holes in buildings, outrun gravity, and do things Jackie Chan or Jet Li could never dream of getting away with.  At least not in a thoughtful film.  And, make no mistake, Kung Fu Panda is a thoughtful, intelligent film.  One that I love from top to bottom.

Wall-E is about a robot fighting with / against other robots to save the human race from endless, mindless existence.  Toy Story is about . . . toys.  Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is all about a scientist who invents a machine that makes it rain food.  Monster House is about a monster house.  All these stories are pure, unadulterated fantasy.  And that’s what I love about them.  The fact that they create likable characters and satisfying plots from the absurd only makes me love them more.

Does this mean that in the future I’ll start writing with this audience in mind?  No, probably not.  If swearing is called for, I’ll put it in.  If there comes a time when it’s vital to include a graphic sex scene in a story, I’ll write it.  And, heck, I like violence.  Having monsters and robots beat the tar out of each other is just good fun.  But I can get away with this as a novelist.  The written word gives me more leeway than a visual medium, and I will take advantage of that.  But when Hollywood comes knockin’, you can bet your ass that I’ll hop on board and trust these people to know what they’re doing.  If they do a great job, then I’ll be pleased as punch.  If they screw it up, I’ll still get paid, still get exposure, still benefit immensely.

Also, the paycheck is very, very nice.  I like when I get paid money for things I’ve already written.  It’s like mana from heaven, energon from Cybertron.  But you’ll have to excuse the mercenary in me.

In this case though, I have no reason to expect anything but the best from Dreamworks, who seem behind this project and just as eager as I am to make something great out of it.  I think it’s fair to say that I am the future of both fantasy and animated storytelling, and that, in that future, all film historians will refer to this period as the Pre-Martinez Period, before the world realized how cool slime monsters and raccoon gods can be.

I’ll take my Lifetime Achievement Award now, friends.  Or you can wait until I’m formally nominated.  Whatever.  I got time.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

I don’t know if my regular readers have noticed this or not, but I tend to spend an unusual amount of time bemoaning the quality of modern comic books.  A big part of this, I’ll admit, is simply coming from a different era.  Everybody tends to like things they grew up with more than is reasonable.  But it’s also because comics are kind of lame now.

Let’s be fair though.  When I complain about modern comics, I’m actually complaining about modern superhero comics because those are what I like.  Those are what I prefer to read.  There are some great non-superhero comics out there, but, honestly, I’m just not interested most of the time in these.  I hear the accolades for Fables, The Walking Dead, 100 Bullets, etc, and while I don’t dislike them, I find nothing particularly appealing about them.  Nope.  For better or worse, when I think of comics, I think of superheroes.

And when I think of superheroes, I think in broad terms.  Good versus evil.  Surreal.  Melodramatic.  Inventive.  (Things I prefer not to think of but tend to pop up:  zombies, morality plays, rape.  But I digress.)  While there’s no reason for a lack of subtlety, there’s also nothing wrong with remembering that these are stories about people in strange costumes fighting other people in strange costumes, usually employing bizarre powers and signature gimmicks.  And, yes, Batman fans.  This applies just as much to your vaunted “realistic” superhero as anyone.  Unless you happen to know of any clowns in purple tuxedos who have access to a gas that makes you laugh until you die with a permanent smile left on your face.

But enough of my redundant, overstated comic book criticism.  Let’s actually get to the review.

REVIEW BEGINS HERE:

Green Lantern: First Flight is a terrific animated film.  While it is indeed a bit bloodier and grittier than I generally prefer, it never panders and always entertains.  I am not a Green Lantern fan.  I like the idea, like his powers.  But in comics, I just haven’t read a Green Lantern story that thrilled me.  But First Flight makes me realize that he can be awesome.

Superhero stories should be defined by action.  Anyone who says otherwise has no truck with me.  Superheroes and supervillains are not about talking.  They’re about leaping into adventure and kicking butt.  First Flight soars on this level.  The action is fantastic, thrilling, inventive, and just plain cool.  Green Lantern is one of those characters that thrives with clever writing.  And when you watch Hal Jordan pound a giant orb of death with an even more giant glowling green baseball bat, you know you’re watching something incredible.

Of course, writing is important.  It’s not just about punching bad guys in the face.  The writing in First Flight is rock solid.  The story isn’t groundbreaking, but it doesn’t need to be.  Too often, “subtle” writing is just a code word for “overly complicated” and “dull”.  But First Flight manages to keep its story going while investing in its characters and world.  Sinestro is a bizarrely sympathetic, ruthless, and classic villain.  (He’s like Tai Lung from Kung Fu Panda in that way.)  You aren’t going to like Sinestro, but you are going to respect him.  And when he is finally defeated (hope that’s not giving anything away that the bad guy loses), you are glad to see him get his just desserts.

Can I also take a moment here to mention how fantastic the animation is in this movie?  It is unbelievable.  From the body language and character design to the thrilling action sequences and quiet moments.  This is quality from top to bottom.

Also, Kilowog is in this, and Kilowog will always be the best Green Lantern in my universe.  (P.S. If you’re ever looking for someone to write a Kilowog min-series, DC, you know where to find me.)

First Flight is a solid sci fi superhero adventure.  If you’re not familiar with Green Lantern, you don’t need to be.  And if you are a Lantern fan . . . well . . . hard to say there.  I’ve heard some fans complain about the film, and I’m not one myself (as previously noted) so that’s a toss up.

Listen, I think we can all agree that I’m a great writer and therefore, must have great taste.  So check out Green Lantern: First Flight.  Watch space cops with magic rings fight evil alien crime lords for the fate of the universe.  And if that doesn’t sound cool to you . . . I gotta say we live in very different worlds.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

“Martinez and Thomas made some interesting points about the redundancy of the genre and how every zombie story is basically the same, but none of that really matters because zombies rule!”

Now this, I can respect.  No nonsense suggesting that zombies are something special.  No long-winded semi-intellectual dissertation about the relevancy of the zombie genre.  It’s just, hey, zombies are awesome, and that’s all he needs to know.

Let’s admit this.  We are not a rational species.  Oh, sure, sometimes we’re pretty bright.  We can build airplanes and computers and discover the nature of the universe from swirling galaxies to ricocheting atoms, and that’s just super.  But most of what motivates us comes from the squishy, illogical emotional center of our brains.  And there’s not a damn thing wrong with understanding this.

Yet we continue to believe that we are rational, and that everything we do is rational.  Even silly little decisions like whether or not we like zombies.

There is no rational reason to prefer zombies to ninjas.  Or ninjas to pirates.  Or Godzilla to King Kong.  These are just random things that get stuck in our heads, little preferences that get set at some point and rarely change.

As I’ve pointed out before, I love the Taurens of World of Warcraft.  Hulking minotaurs, they are not “pretty” in a conventional sense.  Yet there’s something tremendously appealing to me about the way these guys look, about the entire concept of such animal-like humanoids.  Hardly surprising.  I like monsters.  Have for as long as I remember.  Could I tell you why?  Oh, I could give you some bullshit reason.  I could tell you that I find elves and humans to be “boring”, that I enjoy pretending to be something I could never be in real life, or that I just like big, strong beasties.  And I even sort of believe these things.

But not really.

No, I like monsters because the “I like monsters” switch in my brain was flipped some time, somehow.  And that’s really that.

The entire concept of fiction and make-believe is built on human irrationality.  Withour our absolute willingness to surrender to our emotions, we’d have none of it.  I don’t care what genre you pick, it’s all the same.  Without emotion, it doesn’t work.  Because fiction, by definition, is make-believe.  It’s not real.  And we know it’s not real.

We know that there’s no such thing as zombies, and that a movie or book depicting the zombie apocalypse is ludicrous.  More importantly, even if it were realistic (or even remotely possible) it doesn’t change the fact that no zombie story ever actually happened.  Nobody “killed” by a zombie in a story was actually killed.  For that matter, I’m pretty sure that Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorheese have never claimed a single, real-life victim.  Just a slew of actors and actresses who screamed and pretended to die in terror then walked off the set after the director called cut.

Godzilla may have killed millions of imaginary citizens, but he hasn’t so much as stepped on the toe of a real person.  And when he battles King Ghidora for the fate of the Earth, I know that it really doesn’t matter if he wins or loses.  The story could end with the planet blowing up, and it would have no real effect on my life.

Every story could end with the planet blowing up, and it would have absolutely no real life consequences.

And what about the imaginary characters we adore and admire?  We know they aren’t real, but still find ourselves invested in their well-being.  There’s no rational reason for that.  Fictional characters are completely at the whim of their creators.  The fictional character’s motivations, thoughts, and actions are the designs of artists to manipulate us like puppets on strings. 

I really like Superman.  I don’t mean that just in a “Hey, he’s a cool character” kind of way.  I mean it sincerely.  I believe that Superman is a terrific role-model, that he embodies what is best about humanity, and that if we all endeavored to be more like Superman in our daily lives, the world would be a better place.  It’s also explains why I can get a little pissed when some writers decide to “humanize” Superman by robbing  him of these qualities I so love about the character.

And, yet, Superman isn’t real.  He exists, behaves, and functions only as an outlet of writers and editors.  This is why I don’t buy Superman comics because I love the character, but find the stories to be badly written or disappointing.  (Superman: The Animated Series is where I go for my Supes fix usually.)  But I’m not blind to the absurdity of the above statements.  I’m saying I like Superman, and I don’t like Superman at the same time.  I’m defining Superman by my own terms, as if he were a real person who I could know.  But he’s just an imaginary character.

But if tomorrow DC killed Superman, I’d mourn.  (And I mean really killed him, not just some publicity stunt.)

I loved Wall-E.  I think it’s a mesmerizing and beautiful love story, and emotionally, it resonates on a very deep level with me.  But it’s a frickin’ cartoon.  There is no Wall-E, no Eve.  Their pains and joys are illusion.  And it doesn’t matter.

I watched Kung Fu Panda the other day again.  Even knowing the story inside and out, knowing everything that will happen, I find myself enthralled by it.  Not only is it an illusion, a bald-faced lie intended to manipulate my emotional core, it’s an illusion that can no longer surprise me.

And I still fall for it.  Every.  Single.  Time.

So let’s just deal with this.  Let’s just say it, and stop convincing ourselves that our likes / dislikes / 90 percent of our opinions are anything more than random bits of mystery, no better or worse than a thousand other choices we could’ve made.

It’s cool to love zombies or ninjas or giant robots or human drama or lime-flavored Jell-O.  Just don’t tell me it’s because there’s something special about them.  Because any ”reason” you give me is most likely reverse engineered from your love of them, and not the other way around.

My love of Dinobots, on the other hand, is perfectly rationale.  But every rule has its exception.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee

Those Geico caveman commercials have crossed the line.  They were a mildly cute idea, but they’ve been around so long that I’ve actually developed some sympathy for the poor cavemen.  I know I’d be pretty pissed if Geico put up billboards declaring, “So easy, even a Mexican can do it!”  And, yeah, I know cavemen aren’t walking the streets, but still . . . it’s time to leave the cavemen in peace, guys.

Advice to all aspiring writers.  When you finally do make it, be very, very careful with your money.  Because, for better or worse, prompt payment just doesn’t happen.  I’m not complaining.  I understand that this is just how the business works.  But everything moves in slow motion in this business.  You have been warned.

 A zombie comic is a zombie comic is a zombie comic.  Just because you give the zombie a power ring and make them zombies from space, it doesn’t change anything.  And that’s fine.  Just don’t try to tell me it’s not.

More advice for aspiring writers:  You do not have the luxury of being shy.  I know.  You think you can write your brilliant novel, get it published, and just rake in the cash.  And maybe you can.  But J.D. Salinger aside, almost all succesful writers are personable, affable people.  From J.D. Rowling to Stephen King, Tom Clancy to Yours Truly, being comfortable talking to strangers is part of the job.

How many strong nurse shows do we need?

Most terrans have a weak grasp of science, and that’s a shame.  The universe is remarkably counter-intuitive, and our default “logic” usually leads us down the wrong road.  Biology, physics, medicine, and economics.  These are just a few of the areas where most everything you innately ”know” is just plain wrong.  But here’s the good news.  You live in the information age, gang.  You don’t have the same excuse to dwell in ignorance.  Make friends with science today.

Speaking of dwelling in ignorance, can we put to rest the birther conspiracy theory already?  It’s an outright lie that Obama wasn’t born in America.  (Funnily enough, John Mccain was born in Panama, but nobody seems to bring that up.  Probably because it’s a technicality that is completely irrelevant.)  I get that some people can be a little uneasy with a dark-skinned man as President (and if you want to believe that this rumor doesn’t rely on certain racial intolerances that’s your perogative), but just because you don’t like something, doesn’t make it not true.

We’re definitely in a transitional moment.  A black President?  (Okay, half-black but still that’s 50 percent more than any previous Prez.)  A latina Supreme Court judge?  There’s no doubt that we’re moving closer toward that melting pot we’ve always claimed to be, and for a certain group of people, that scares the crap out of them.  If I hear one more rich, white male bemoaning about racism . . .

I get it.  Nobody likes losing power.  And the white male dominance of America has lasted a long, long time.  You had a good run.  Now get over it. 

On the positive side, these moments of ”oppressed white victimhood” are becoming increasingly ludicrous.  And most people of all arbitrary racial distinctions seem perfectly comfortable with the changes.  And why shouldn’t they be?  It’s not the end of the world.  Hell, it’s not even a big change.

My favorite moment of white man’s outrage was when a white senator asked Sotomayor if she understood his discomfort with the notion that maybe her Latina background might prejudice her against white people.  And I found myself thinking:  A minority woman?  No, there’s no way she possibly ever had to deal with as much racial prejudice as a wealthy white senator.

And on that note of sarcasm, I think I’ll end this collection of random thoughts.

Fighting the good fight, Writing the good write,

Lee