Jeff Offringa’s Journal


God From The Machine

I’ve always disliked the “Deus ex machina.”

For those of you who don’t remember your high school English classes (or have a little too much orc blood in you), the term come from ancient Greece, and literally means “god from the machine.” Put another way, it’s when the plot of a story is resolved by something outside the story – nothing that the characters do, but from some higher power or outside source, or even some hokey plot device that comes in from left field to save the day.

In ancient times, the term literally meant what it said. A crazy noise and a flash of light (or the like) symbolized a god sweeping in to save the hero from peril – a peril that the mortal couldn’t solve. Today, however, you generally see something contrived come in to save the heroes when the writers create a big bad so powerful that the heroes can’t possible defeat it.

The first example I ever had of this was “way back in the day.” I was in tenth grade when Next Gen Trek gave us one of its best pair episodes – the first Borg two-parter, “The Best of Both Worlds.” I remember this because it was a season ending cliff hanger, and I spent the summer wondering how it would turn out. Would Picard die? Would Riker get command of the Enterprise? Add in that the second half premiered the same weekend as the only Star Trek convention I’ve ever gone too, and it is forever stuck in my mind.

The problem with that episode wasn’t obvious until the end. The Borg mowed through Star Fleet like it wasn’t there, one cube destroying 40 ships at the Battle of Wolf 359. Nothing could stop them. Even our heroic crew was getting their butts kicked. Until… Data puts them to sleep.

Huh? What? Really?

I was incredulous as a teenager, and I still am now. The problem was simple: Once you’ve created a bad guy that incredibly powerful, what can defeat it? Oh, right. Nothing but the Deus ex machina.

I remember feeling cheated by that. Not because Data came up with the idea, but because I couldn’t help but think “The Borg are this bad ass race that has mowed through the best Starfleet has to offer, and their defeated by being put to sleep? So you’re telling me that they have absolutely no defenses against this? How stupid are they?

Or, another example: Jeff Goldblum’s computer virus loaded into the alien mainframe in “Independence Day,” where, conveniently enough, the alien computers use Macintosh OS’s. See my point?

This is why the series of books I finished reading a week or two back was so disappointing in its ending. The series in question, Peter Hamilton’s “Night’s Dawn” trilogy, is the series that made him famous; I’m not sure if it was his first series or not, but they were best sellers.

And it’s looooooooong. Like, 4000 pages of a trilogy long. Spanning the galaxy, with really cool cultures and technology, it is a thrill ride. And the truly weird part about it is the metaphysical side of it, for the series is more Science Horror than Space Opera in many ways.

I came to Mr. Hamilton a few years back – after the series I’m talking about was out of print, and I only found that Orbit books had republished the series a few months back. So, even though there are some spoilers here, they’re for a series 15 years old.

Now, saying that, the series is simply too massive for me to describe in a short review, so I’ll stick to a couple of my impressions. The first is that, like Hamilton’s later books, he builds a truly impressive and creative universe. Truly unique cultures, and lots of ’em. Yet that is both a strength and a flaw: It’s too big. Too many planets, too many characters. Too much everything; this is why the series is 4,000 pages long.

I read a comment in an Amazon review that explained this fact. Obviously, I can’t say if this is true or not, but it does make sense, and that is that he originally wanted the story to be about just his main character (starship Captain Joshua Calvert), but the publisher told him to add to the story.

True story or not, the series suffers from that decision. There are lots and lots of side arcs and plot lines that add to the length – and, truth be told, to the richness of the story, – but there are also many more plot lines that don’t. Had he focused on his main character and not spanned the galaxy, the story would have been tighter, and made more sense.

That leads me to my second point: the aforementioned Deus ex machina. Hamilton’s story is so big, and his over arching evil force so powerful, that you’re 3900 pages in and thinking “How the heck is he going to wrap this up in a hundred pages?”

Then it happens. I won’t say way what, suffice it to say that the ending leaves you scratching your head going “Huh! Really? Well, at least it’s a happy ending.”

After finishing the books, I read the review I mentioned above, and I thought about it: Everyone complains – including the multitude of reviewers who, like me, enjoyed the books despite the hokey ending – about how it ends. “Great series until the ending. I felt so cheated. Almost ruins an awesome series.”

All of that is true. But as I thought about it, I realized something: Had Mr. Hamilton focused on Captain Calvert exclusively, like he (purportedly) originally planned to do, the series is not only both shorter and better paced / plotted, but also makes more sense. It becomes a tale of metaphysical discovery – with a lot really, really cool races and tech and battles along the way. It the “Deus ex machina” doesn’t seem quite so contrived.

Yet… Mr. Hamilton does love his doorstop books. I’m not sure why; I just know that his books average 800 pages or so, and the new one I got for Christmas checks in at just under a thousand (and requires a deadly weapon license to keep on your nightstand). But I will keep reading. Yes, Mr. Hamilton’s later books also resort to contrived plot devices to tie up the story. OTOH, his stories are just so darn good!

In other words, if you get a chance to, and like galaxy spanning SF, pick him up and give him a try. Just be aware that the stage hands might have to make the machine work to tie up his otherwise excellent stories.



So I Guess Batman is a Hero After All…
March 18, 2013, 2:36 pm
Filed under: General Musings | Tags: , , , , , , , ,

The other day I found myself in what for me has become an increasingly rare thing to do:  defending Batman. Or, for those of you who read my rants on the Batman movies last summer, I was actually sticking up for the Caped Crusader and maintaining that he is indeed a superhero.

Let me elaborate.  Several students came into a last hour class one day last week, and two girls were arguing with a one of the guys that “Batman can’t be a superhero since he doesn’t have a super power.”  Admittedly, I was intrigued.  First, I have to admit – any chance I can get to look cool in front of students is nice.  Secondly, though, was the nature of the argument.

So I jumped in and helped a brother out, so to speak.  “Batman doesn’t need a superpower.  He has money and lots of cool toys,” I replied.

“That doesn’t make him a superhero.  It just makes him rich and crazy!”

“No, that makes him a vigilante,” I said.  “You don’t need powers to be a superhero.”

“Well, then what makes him a superhero?”

“Simple,” I replied.  “What makes him a superhero is his willingness to put on the mask and cape and do what others are either unable or unwilling to do.”  Sadly, at the point the bell rang and I had to end the conversation with a high five from the poor guy, but my point had been made, and the two girls looked more confused than ever.

This conversation came back to me earlier this weekend when I saw the first trailer for a movie I’ve been waiting a long time for – Kickass 2.  This is one movie that I’ve wished a long time for a sequel for, and now it looks to be the only movie I’m really looking forward to this summer (Trek 2 being a Spring movie, IMHO).  For those of you who don’t remember my post on it many, many moons ago, I used that movie (a most excellent movie if you can get past the violence and language) to launch into a discussion on what makes a hero, and I said the same thing then that I’ve said earlier.  Heroes aren’t made into heroes by their powers or abilities.  They’re made heroes by their willingness to be a hero.

In the current Pathfinder campaign I’m playing in, one of the characters is a very amoral thief.  He’s so amoral that he’s annoying the GM, who when he asked the player what his motivation was, the player replied “money.”

Huh.  Then why are you adventuring to save the world?  Last I checked, heroes aren’t in it for the money, but to make the world a better place.

This is why, despite my fundamental differences with Chris Nolan over his version of Batman, I still say he is a hero.  Yes, he does sometime have some “anger management issues,” and (especially in Nolan’s version) he can skew too much toward law over good, but he still does what the rest of us can’t do, or won’t do.

I’ve touched on this theme many times, but it bears repeating.  Are costumed vigilantes real (or at least common)?  No.  But heroes are.  Heroes are those men and women who strap on a uniform and a rifle, leave home and family behind, and walk a patrol in Afghanistan.  Heroes are the firefighter rushing into the burning building, or the cop who gets into a shootout with a crazed gunman in some back alley.  They do not what we necessarily can’t do, but we won’t do – for whatever our reasons might be.

Maybe that sounds trite.  If it does, so be it. It doesn’t change the truth of the statement.  We can – and should – question the methods of our heroes, even the everyday ones.  Just as Batman believes the end doesn’t always justify the means, so is that true of our every day heroes.  But never let us think that they aren’t heroes.

One of my best friends is a career military officer.  Most days he’s just like you and I.  Likes to read fantasy and sci fi.  Argues about Hobbits and Goblins, and whether the movie is a good version of the book.  Watches lots and lots of Anime.  Likes U2 and Johnny Cash.  Yet he puts on his M-16 every day when he’s overseas, keeping us safe.

I hadn’t intended to take this post to this point when I started; funny how things work out this way.  So I’ll just say yes, while Batman is a character who I sometimes disagree with, he is a hero, and I’ll still watch his adventures on the big screen, all the while being thankful for the real heroes of this world.

May they be safe in all they do.



The Nerd Who Lives in the Basement
March 14, 2013, 3:02 pm
Filed under: General Musings | Tags: , , , , , , , ,

A couple things I saw or heard from students within the last week really struck me, and has me returning with this post to a topic I’ve touched on several times before: why is it that as people “grow up,” so many of them lose interest in the fantastic worlds they enjoyed as children?

The first one of these was a conversation I overheard from some tenth grade AP kids.  They were finishing up the hour, and one of them asked his friends if they’d seen a video about LARPíng – live action role playing.  Most of them had never heard  of LARPíng, and so when the inevitable video was googled, their responses ranged from “What the heck is that?” to derisive mocking.

All save for one guy.  Apparently he’d LARP’ed before, and felt the need to defend himself.  Now, I don’t know if he LARPed regularly, but he’d gone LARPing at least once, and was pretty defensive.  Of course, it didn’t help that the most common reaction was his classmates making mocking spellcasting noises and talking about beating each other with foam swords.

I have never LARP’ed.  This is not because I don’t approve of it; rather it’s because I have an absolute terror of acting, dressing up, wearing costumes, etc.  In fact, I have a recurring nightmare of being in a play and never having memorized any of my lines (I thank my middle school choir teacher for this….) Yes, I know they’re not the same.  But who said fears were rational?

But I digress. I may not enjoy LARPing, but I know enough people who do to know that it takes both courage and skill, and can be a lot of fun as well. Yeah, wearing costumes may not be my cup of tea, but…  Why should the LARPer be mocked simply for LARPing?

This point was driven home to me yesterday when I was subbing in an eighth grade classroom. As I circulated around the room, I saw one girl was wearing a jersey. Nothing unusual there – at least until I, out of simple curiosity as to which team it was for, read the name on the back (Potter) and noticed that the front said Gryffindor.

Yep.  Apparently it’s cool to wear a Harry Potter shirt in 8th grade, but by 10th grade… Nope.  Not cool.

OK, I’m aware that Harry Potter and the Rings trilogy have a special place in American culture, but they’re certainly not exclusive.  I’ve subbed in too many middle school classes, seen too many kids reading Harry Potter, or Alex Rider, or the Hunger Games, or Redwall, or… any other number of fantasy series.   It’s cool for “kids.”  But not for anyone over 13.

Sigh.

I’m not sure what to make of this anymore.  I know I ranted about this recently, and one of the comments the post received pointed out that Super hero movies receive this same pass.  Adults can like Spiderman, but not Harry Potter.  Huh.  (Yet, strangely, this doesn’t extend to super hero LARPíng.)  Why is it ok for and adult to rush off to a super hero movie, but not to a fantasy one?

Or, another example I’ve noticed of late:  Game of Thrones.  People who would never read a fantasy novel are all flocking to the show and series.  Why?  Oh, right.  It’s home is on HBO, where everything has extraneous T&A.  A series like Jordan’s A Wheel of Time (a better series with a better message to it, IMHO) would never see the light of day on the big or small screen because it has no T&A.

So, in other words, we can show something that glamorizes sex and violence for the sake of sex and violence, but not if it involves wizards?

Sigh. I know I’m ranting here, but I’ve really been getting bugged by this lately, and I think that maybe the reason is that I’ve internalized a little of this myself.  Did I stick up for the LARPíng kid?  Nope.  But did I mention to the girl in the quidditch jersey that I’m a bit of a Potter fan?  Sure!  It’s easy when you know your audience – even when it was a trio of 13 year old girls – are fans of spec fic.  But when they’re not?

Yep. Easier to sit there and shut up – and not give the kids a reason to think I’m a nerd.

Funny, isn’t it?  A nerd who is afraid of being thought of as a nerd.  No wonder society thinks we’re all trolls who live in the basement of our parent’s houses attacking the darkness while drinking excessive amounts of soda….



OZ THE GREAT AND…. POWERFUL?
March 11, 2013, 2:23 pm
Filed under: General Musings | Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Well, Aromathians, I have my life back.  Dragonage and Peter Hamilton’s Night’s Dawn trilogy have both been completed by yours truly, and I now find myself doing things in my free time other than reading and playing video games.  And so I return to writing.

Now, I mentioned Dragon Age in a post a couple weeks back, and I think I’ve talked about Peter Hamilton before, but neither of those items are my topic for today.  I might return to either one of them in the future – I have more than enough to say on both of those for a post – but my topic today is about a newer fantasy item – Disney’s new “Oz the Great and Powerful.”

Now, I must first say that I’ve never read the works of L. Frank Baum, nor have I seen the entirety of the classic movie on one of the umpteen showings of it on TNT or other networks.  I have seen the story told as a musical by a high school class a few years back, and I also really enjoyed the Sci Fi channel’s miniseries “Tin Man” take on the tale.

And so when I saw the trailer for Disney’s new spin on the movie, I was interested, if for no other reason than it looks to be one of the few genre movies coming up this summer that actually looks intriguing (I mean, Trek Reboot #2, a Will Smith vehicle, and (maybe) Iron Man 3, and…. what else?  Not much).  The end result?  Money on a matinee well spent as long as you don’t expect it to be an Oscar winner.

The movie’s single biggest issue, IMO, is that it tries too hard.  It opens, for example, with a sequence shot in black and white, set in 1905 Kansas.  Oscar is a stage magician, making his living performing marginally good stage magic for backwards farmers.  Everything goes well for our protagonist until someone believe he can actually do magic and asks him to make a crippled girl walk.  Throw in a jilted lover threatening to kill him, an encounter with an old girlfriend, and a teeny-weenie tornado, and Oscar makes his escape into Oz.

Suddenly all is in color.  LOTS of color. Color, color everywhere. Did I say lots of color?  Our introduction to Oz is filled with giant butterflies and huge flowers with tinkling bells in them.  Sweeping vistas and endless skies.  Color everywhere, all in an explosively vibrant mix, all of which is serving to contrast with the blandness of Kansas.

Oh, did I mention attractive “witches” tight leather pants?  Yeah, that helps too. 🙂

This is the movies greatest strength – it’s pretty, and not just the actresses.  The flying monkey is both comic and insufferably cute.  The witches are all strikingly attractive.  The backdrops are expansive CGI shots that are, appropriately enough, out of this world.  Everything – people, critters, places – all pop out of the screen, even in 2D.

The story is fairly predictable, but it succeeds in explaining how Oz the great and powerful came to rule over the Emerald City.  And yet….

I can’t help but agree with the commentator on I heard on NPR.  He made the point that this movie is rather insulting to women in that three beautiful and successful woman – all of whom have magical talent – are beholden to a C-grade con artist to save them, woo them, etc.  In short, they need a man to do things for them – make things happen.

Consider the opening  sequence after Oscar arrives in Oz.  The first person he meets is Mila Kunis’s character – a stunningly beautiful women, sister of the current ruler of Oz, and an accomplished “witch.”  Yet Oscar immediately seduces her (OK, that’s only implied – but strongly so), and she fawns over him like a middle schooler having her first crush.  Later on, another witch, the fair Glenda, knowing that Oscar is a fraud and imposter, still needs him to lead her people, and props him up as a figurehead.

Or maybe not?  He does become “Oz the Great and powerful.”   True, it is his plan – his con – that frees her from the wicked witches’.  He does save the China Doll and win the loyalty of the flying monkey.  But even so, he does it all by being a fraud.  He’s not a hero, and says so repeatedly.  There is nothing he does that the women couldn’t do, but for some reason… don’t.

Maybe I’m putting too much into  this movie.  Maybe I should just sit back and watch the story.  Yet… I think I’m past the point in my life where I can do that.  This isn’t a new story, where the author is, or can be, simply out to tell a story.  No – this is Disney’s interpretation of a classic tale.  And what does the Mouse do?  It turns three powerful women into pretty, pretty princesses who need a man to save them.

No wonder Yekcim hates Mickey so much.

Seriously, though – the movie is ok. Not great, but worth seeing on the big screen for the scenery, most of which just won’t be the same on DVD or Netflix.  So, yeah, go see a matinee.  Just don’t expect it to be better than – or even as good as – the original.