40, 41, maybe...

So,  in my pursuit of summer reading, I picked up And Another Thing, the post-mortem continuation of Douglas Adams's great Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy series by one Eoin Colfer. The book isn't going to get the 5x5 review treatment because I doubt that I will finish it. (I am off on a five-day work trip right now and I didn't even bother to bring it.)

I am a big fan of Adams's writing. It was not just in Hitchhiker's Guide and the Dirk Gently stories that his drollery and wit shone, but even in his more peripheral work, such as the video games he wrote way back when and his non-fiction book about endangered species, Last Chance to See. He had a voice as distinctive as that of P.G. Wodehouse; Colfer had quite a task before him, following Adams and using his same characters and milieu.

It turned out to be an impossible charge to fill. All the moves are there, but none of the magic shines through. I imagine it was like this when Bud Abbott teamed with Candy Candido late in his career: while they got some decent reviews, it's hard to imagine Who's On First? being done by anyone other than Abbott & Costello. Not to say that Colfer doesn't give it a good try; I am not familiar with his other work, but he clearly has made a yeoman's effort to recreate Adams's deft touch. His faux-Adams is not nearly as bad as David Soul playing Rick Blaine in the TV series based on Casablanca or Josh Mostel's valiant effort as Blotto Blutarsky in Delta House. It's more like you tuned in to see Larry, Moe, and Curly and got Larry, Moe and Joe DeRita: close, but no cigar.

It's not like this this sort of thing can't be done: Spider Robinson did a creditable job of channeling Robert Heinlein on Variable Star, for example. It's just that Colfer didn't do it here. No shame in the effort, but not enough results to get me to finish.

5x5 Graphic Novel(s): The Parker adaptations by Darwyn Cooke

1. A few years back (2009), Darwyn Cooke made a big splash with his graphic novel adaptation of famed crime writer Donald Westlake's The Hunter (written under the pen name Richard Stark), and I gobbled it up eagerly. When I was a young man, I read all the Stark books - the Parker series and the (much smaller) Grofield collection - and I had anticipated that Cooke's sensibility would be a perfect match for the series: that sort of Mad Men meets Goodfellas feeling. I was right.

2. The first book ended with a tease that there would be more Parker adaptations coming. Apparently I missed a memo or two - because there have been three more books already! I only tipped to the series after I ran across Books Two and Three at the library. The library copies still have the dust jackets (cellophaned, of course), but I removed the one on my copy of Book One because I like the retro flavor the binding so much.

3. Packaging aside, the quality of the books hold up across the series (or at least the 75% of it I have seen so far), and it's not just a matter of matching the art style to the subject matter. Cooke is not just a great cartoonist; he's also a good writer, who knows how to make an adaptation work. The pacing of the stories and the unfolding of the plots (including complex action) is flawless; Cooke knows when to use text and when to let the images alone carry the narrative.

4. A note from a formalist perspective, since this is me: Book Two diverges from its focus on Parker to show the activities of some of his criminal cronies as they rob syndicate operations. Each account is in a different style: an illustrated magazine article (with a lot of prose); fifties PSA cartooning; New Yorker-style cartoons; and what I can only call illustration sketchwork. The flavor these choices create move us out of the reality of the main story in the same way italics or margins or typeface might set off a secondary narrative within a prose book, but with many more layers of meaning added thanks to the art. Well-played, Mr. Cooke.

5. All that being said, after reading through a bunch of these in a row, I come up feeling a little bit empty. It isn't for want of content or execution, either in the original story or in the graphic adaptation. It's just that Parker is such a relentlessly amoral, brutal character that it is hard for me to sustain any sympathy for him, and without that identification, the books become nothing more than a series of beautifully rendered, grisly encounters. I read somewhere that Westlake wrote the anti-hero Parker stories on rainy days and the relatively light-hearted Grofield stories (and I'd guess the comic Dortmunder capers) on sunny days. I guess I would like to see a Darwyn Cooke take on a sunny day story.

Bonus: when I was describing Cooke's ability to visually capture early sixties motifs, a friend said "You mean like those big clocks with the spines and balls!" Precisely. And while there isn't actually one of those in any of the Parker books, we do get this

 and that's pretty close.

That's a very low DC on a Craft: Felt skill check

So, whenever I have gone to the Value Village, I have kept my eye out for a wooden box that meets certain specifications. I needed it to be small, but not too small; to be hinged, with a lid that opened 180 degrees (or close to that); and not to look dorky, with puppies or rainbows or some other silly stuff on it. The other day, I finally found it:

 

It's about four inches across and an inch-and-a-half high. I'm not sure if that critter is a turtle looking up and to the left or a rabbit looking over its shoulder to the right, but it was good enough. 

To make this completely serviceable, I needed some felt, easily obtained from pal JK (who is a real Maker and has all sorts of crafty goods). She kindly left a nice chocolate brown swatch in my mailbox at work, and I got to crafting.

To wit: I cut out liners for the bottom of the box and top of the lid and glued them in. Woo-hoo!

Why this fussing? For this:

A nice dice-tossing box. Looks cool, holds the dice for transport, control the rolls, and keeps me from throwing the dice across the table. The addition of the felt lining tones down the clack-clack noises just enough.

Here's an action shot:

Well, it's not like I am ready for Urban Craft Uprising or anything, but it is a step in the lo-fi direction I seem to be taking these days.

And I have a cool box.

5 x 5 miscellania: My sister sent me Gumby & Pokey

1. As I have mentioned before on this blog, my sisters will often send me gifts of a geekish nature for any reason or no reason at all. A week or so ago, I received a package from Older Older Sister. The note inside read Found these in a closet - think they were for you. Along with the note were new Gumby & Pokey Action figures. I was a big fan of these clay-animation characters and it brought back a lot of good memories to see them again. So, thanks, Sis!

2. I was lucky enough to be around for the original (1953-1968) Art Clokey series, when it was at its anarchic and surrealistic finest.  I was always a bigger fan of Pokey than Gumby, actually; Gumby was a little too enthusiastically intrepid and opportunistic, and I liked Pokey's grumbling, hoof-dragging compliance. (This preference may be a function of the same set of values that puts me in that small minority who think Ferris Bueller was a jerk, not a hero.) When I learned on Gumbyworld that Gumby and Pokey are pals only because Gumby saved Pokey's life, well, let's say that put a lot about that relationship into clearer perspective.

3. I actually had a Pokey figure back when I was a kid, but not a Gumby.  Pokey was obviously my preferred choice, but it was the Gumby figure that had accessories like space helmets and cowboy hats, which Pokey couldn't use, since Gumby's head is flat laterally and Pokey's head is flat end-on. Such are the vicissitudes of childhood predilections.

4. In November 1984, Omni magazine ran an article about dreams and sleep in which it was suggested that leaving Gumby cartoons on while falling asleep might encourage lucid dreaming (dreams that the dreamer can control) because of its modeling of a moldable, controllable reality to your unconscious mind. I tried it a few times back then; I never exerienced lucid dreaming but I did have some wild trips.

5. Apparently, an unofficial motto of the United States Marine Corps is Semper Gumby, which they translate as Always Flexible, a somewhat light-hearted nod to the value placed on responsiveness and resourcefulness expressed in other more martial mantras such as Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome. The use of the phrase dates back to 1984, which sorta makes sense, in the scheme of things.

Anyway, thanks gain, Sis. Here's a closing shot of Gumby and Pokey doing what comes naturally - interacting with weird little aspects of the real world in weird way.

5 x 5 Movie review: Avengers: Age of Ultron

1. Wonder Wife and I made sure to watch this latest Avengers movie between episode 2.19 and episode 2.20 of the television show Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.  The integration was seamless. Seam. Less. Is this the future? To get the whole story, I will need to participate in several simultaneous narrative streams?

2. Why does Marvel Studios get that the Avengers, and Captain American especially, would care about civilians becoming collateral damage, while DC Entertainment has Superman engaging in battle in the middle of a town or city with hardly a concern for the locals? Has anyone at DCE ever even read a comic?


3. Nice to see lots of faces from the supporting casts of all the different movies; the two missing Women were lampshaded amusingly.

4.  I know that I have said this in other review, but why does every battle have to be so big and so loud and so chaotic ALL THE TIME?! The rise of CGI has taken the constraints off some aspects of filmmaking, and constraints generate creativity. Now, all the action is quick cuts and confusing perspectives, incomprehensible and unengaging, particularly when held in contrast to the quieter, character-directed bits, which were actually quite good.

5. I do not 'ship Natasha and Bruce, not one little bit.

The way we were

So, my buddy Karmin had a dream about spiders, and since she shared on it social media, I don't feel bad reproducing it here (edited for clarity).

Last night in my dreams a were-spider hunted me down for vengeance after I killed a spider. I  prevailed in the resulting fight. 

But brain? Let's not do this again. I had not previously considered the horror that is were-spiders. In my dream, I was in shock that such was even possible! 

It had clearly violated my territory. I was just protecting my home from an invasion! I killed her with a 10-ft long metal pole with a wide blade that she had created by tearing apart the wall at a construction site; it was silver-colored, but of unknown composition. She was in a half-form and swinging the blade at me. At some point she tried to stab me with it; I barely dodged, and it hit the solid wall right behind me. She'd over-extended and was momentarily stunned, and I was able to quickly shove the pole back towards her, impaling her in the abdomen with her own weapon.

The dream came up as we were playing Pandemic and naming the diseases that we had to cure to save the world and win the game. Buddy Chris named one of them "spider lyncanthropy" in honor of Karmin's sacktime skirmish, and this led to a discussion of appropriate terminology. After all, lycanthropy is the formal term for the condition of being a werewolf, and it comes from the Greek roots for wolf and man. With this in mind, spider lycanthropy makes no sense, since it means spider-wolf-man disease. 

Were-spider is fine, since were in this sense in from the Old English for man, so a werewolf a wolfman and a were-spider is a spiderman (but not Spider-Man). But spider lycanthropy? No way.

Chris held that since D&D Monster Manuals use lycanthropy in a general sense, to indicate the template for any sort of were-creature, that is is a proper construction and usage. I think this is silly. And so, for D&D and anyone else, here are some other correctly-formed -anthropes besides the classic lycanthrope.

And Karmin, if this last one is anything like the were-spider you fought - that wasn't a dream, it was officially a full-fledged nightmare.

I came, I saw, I conned....

So, this weekend marked the Emerald City Comic Con, an event that has grown in 13 years from a small local gathering drawing fewer than 3,000 people to the third-largest comic con in the country, with an attendance of over 80,000 this year. Since I was shut out last year after foolishly thinking I could get tickets a mere six weeks before the convention, I bought tickets well in advance this time, and attended two of the three days with my geek pal and cosplay fan Margaret. (Wonder Wife, after handling a day of Geek Girl Con last year, chose to skip the sensory overload this time around.)

I have to say, at the risk of sounding like a crotchety old cliche, that the comic-con isn't about comics anymore. No longer is a con a dealers' room, and artists' alley, and some panels with comics creators. The Hollywoodization of geek culture is a fait accompli at this point, and comics qua comics as a common denominator for all the participants is sketchy: a number of elements of the con have only a tangential relationship to comics at best and even those are much better known for representations in other media. The biggest booth seemed to be The Walking Dead, which did at least start as a comic but which is much better known as a television show.

This is not at all a bad thing, but it is a thing. Historically, there have always been fuzzy lines between comics culture and sci-fi culture, and more recently with gaming, and all of those interests overlap with movies and television and video and of course art, so it doesn't seem that this change is unnatural, but more like an evolution.

At the forefront of my mind, however, was the question of what any convention is for at all anymore. 

Back in the day, the dealers' rooms at a con were literally the only place you might find an item to complete your collection and the only place you might run across something you didn't even know existed. Nowadays, no matter where you are, you can find anything you need through an online seller, and there's a wealth of websites and blogs reviewing and critiquing comics old and new to let you know about what's out there. Way back when, meeting an artist at a con might be the only way to get some original art or sketch. Now, just about every artist has their own website selling stuff directly to fans, and many even accept commissions online. Cons have always been when the latest and the greatest developments were previewed or revealed; all of that is leaked online almost immediately now. Conventions have always been the place to meet industry professionals and get that autograph; well, you can still do that today, except that instead of a chance meeting on the convention floor it will be a highly managed photo op that will cost you anywhere from $20 to $90.

I guess what hasn't changed much is the community aspect of a convention: there is a certain feeling that comes from being in a room filled with people who share your interests that cannot be had elsewhere. The panels are nice, the events are fun, the displays are great, but being able to share your experience with others who appreciate many of the same things you do, in much the same way and to a similar level of intensity - that's the cool. It's sort of like the mood at a superbowl party, but with thousands of people over a whole weekend instead of a few friends for a few hours.

Perhaps the best example of this bonding took place when Margaret and I went to the Red Dwarf Fan panel, which was billed pretty much as just a conversation among local fans. Instead, there was a surprise guest: Danny John-Jules, who played Cat in the series, was Skyping in from somewhere in the U.K., right in the middle of location filming for his current TV series. The delight in the room was palpable, magnified by the community that had been created by this particular collection of people self-selecting for this particular fandom. You can't quite get that electric feeling online.

In any case, something is pulling these people in - ECCC was as crowded as all get out. And of course, a significant fraction of those present were in costume. Maybe cosplay is the reason that conventions still exist. It can certainly be an elaborate avocation these days. There were tons of very professional-level designs, and some actual professionals, folks who are paid to come to cons and show off. It was great to see just as much crossplay here as at Geek Girl Con, and Margaret and I got into a very academic discussion about the difference between crossplay (playing a character of a different gender without modifying the costume) and gender-swapping (creating a modified version of the character for a different gender). And there are all the other variations: steampunk versions of anything and mashups being the most frequent.

Saturday night saw a fantastic costume contest with some of the most dramatic and well-executed stuff. Three things things stood out as we watched the parade of characters.

First of all, I just don't get some of these mash-ups, even at the pro level. For example, one entry combined Elphaba from Wicked and Elsa from Frozen. Hunh? Does that even make sense? Or how is it ironic?

Second, the hours and hours of work that go into the competitive costumes make for impressive results - and pretty much guarantee that the pro-am divide is going to remain or even widen. Even Margaret, who loves cosplay and has a pretty mean hand with a sewing needle, says she would never dedicate the time and effort that it would take to make something at that level. Forget about mooks like me. We wished there was some way to showcase the more casual cosplayer.

Third, some of the presentations went beyond costumes into what would have to be classified as practical effects or puppetry. A full-sized Star Wars Tauntaun or Bioshock Big Daddy manipulated by an operator inside, complete with articulated parts and sound effects, is not a costume. Entering these was the equivalent of bringing a submarine to a scuba suit competition. Crazy!

Anyway, I am sure you'll be able to find any number of high-def, high-res videos and stills of the major league cosplayers, so here are some shots of folks just having fun. We especially liked the highly specific and/or obscure stuff.

A great Suzy Bishop and Sam Shakusky. 

They were just tickled  as all get out to be cosplaying.

ST:TOS family fun! I met them right after attending the "Mature Fan" panel.

Get it?

 

Lobster Johnson in the house!

This young woman captured both the look and the spirit of the Kamala Khan Ms. Marvel.

 Not just one...

... but two Jack Knight Starmans. Starmen?

This young Velma-Daphne duo was totally charming.

 Victorian women, Super- and Wonder-wise.

 Awesome Black Manta!

 Bwa-ha-ha! The JLI redux! 

Hey, I've sorta said that before... but this was a nice nostalgia.

 

Brilliant JLU Hawkgirl - in brilliant sunshine outside!

 

I stood in line with a friendly She-Ra!

 

Best FTM gender-bending: Tank Boy! We heart Tank Boy!

 

Season Two Scully! (Wish she had posed so you could see her great FBI I.D.)

So, as usual, Margaret and I ventured into the cosplay world ourselves. The first day, Margaret cosplayed The Dude and I was Walter from The Big Liebowksi. Margaret had a beard all ready to wear, but her first event was Geek Speed-dating, so she chose not to wear it right away, and actually never got a chance to put it on. Nonetheless, in her bathrobe and shorts and with her container of half-and half, she got a lot of props.

At the bus top on the way to the con.

No one guessed I was Walter. I just looked like a guy in a hunting vest and cargo shorts. I tried to attribute this to my being alone most of the day, but even when Margaret and I were together, and even when I put on my yellow range glasses with the aviator frames, people didn't go "Ah!"

On the second day, Margaret went as Alex Millar from the fifth season of the British series Being Human. That's about as obscure a character as one can cosplay, and since the outfit is a green dress and  leather jacket, it doesn't immediately read as a costume. So, just like with Walter, no one recognized it. In shame, Margaret borrowed a Steampunk Boba Fett helmet to create the mashup Steampunk Boba Alex.

 

I made that last part up, she was just playing with the guy.

I had given up on cosplay for the second day and just wore my normal clothes. About a half-dozen people commented on my appearance, telling me how much they liked my look. That's an example of comic-book irony for sure.

 

Fan-Walaka action figure, comes with with water bottle and con program.

Believe it or not, this is actually an abbreviated report: I skipped Sunday at the con, giving my ticket to a pal so he could attempt to get his model TARDIS signed by some Doctor Who cast members, and Margaret had to go it alone (and went as Ianto from Torchwood). It worked out okay; it was a great time, but totally exhausting, just because of the scale and scope.

We'll see about next year.