[WARNING: SPOILERS ABOUT “SUNSHINE” IN THIS POST]

A couple of weeks ago, I saw Sunshine with Sammy. We both thought it was excellent. I was a little worried that it would be a little too scary… this is Danny Boyle, after all. But this movie was more about tension than anything else. One of those movies where when the credits roll, you realize you’ve been leaning forward with your teeth clenched the whole time. “What’s going to go wrong now?” “Who’s going to get killed off in an interesting way next?”

The strongest criticism against the movie is that the last third turns into a slasher flick. Garunya, for instance, was not a fan of this development. Ditto for the Avocado of Death. Dave T. was more okay with it, and I fall more on that side of the fence. But you know, reasonable people can disagree.

What I don’t understand is the Slate Spoiler Special podcast for Sunshine. Usually their spoiler podcasts are enjoyable, but this one was really irritating, because the reviewers missed so many plot points. They were confused — why did the airlock suddenly blow up? “Could that have been [Pinbacker]?” one of them wondered. Gee, you think? There was also a long discussion about why Capa the Dreamy Emo Physicist had to go into the “bomb” to set it off manually. The reviewers guffawed about this — why would you design a device that had to be operated that way? How silly! Ha ha! Too true! And while we’re on the subject, I never could figure out why Slim Pickens ended up riding the bomb down in Dr. Strangelove either. Stupid Air Force and their stupid bomb designs!

This has got to be one of the most frustrating aspects of storytelling, particularly SF. You get one chance to tell your story. If your audience misses a detail and gets confused, tough luck. I know that if I were the screenwriter for Sunshine, I’d be in a sputtering rage. “But — but — the computer was broken! We had a ten minute scene about that! With a nasty death-by-coolant to drive the point home! Gaaaah!” Sadly, you can’t run around the country explaining to every indvidual reviewer and audience member how they got it wrong.

Although with enough forum sock puppets, you can sure give it a try.

Oh yeah, I forgot! I have this “web” “log” thingy.

So… Potlatch! Potlatch was great. Several other VP X alumni attended: Bart, Mac, Lucy, and Barbara. This meant I had a safety net of friends in case the other children were mean to me, although it turned out the other children were all perfectly nice. I had drinks with friends, visited Powell’s Books and VooDoo Doughnuts, even attended a panel here and there. And I saw Ursula K. LeGuin in the flesh! I didn’t go so far as to introduce myself, since I didn’t have anything to say to her other than, “I-read-Earthsea-when-I-was-9-and-I-think-you’re-awesome.” No doubt she’s heard quite enough of that.

I also ran into Janelle, who I last saw over a decade ago in college. All Saturday, I kept looking at her out of the corner of my eye, “Geez, that person looks really familiar,” while she was wondering the same thing all day as well. Janelle actually came to her first Potlatch with no safety net of friends, which makes her a heckuva lot braver than me. I also met TexAnne from Making Light, who saw the name on my badge and tapped me on the shoulder. Having a unique first name + last name is awesome. Great for email addresses, User IDs, screen names… thanks, Mom and Dad and Ancestors!

All in all, Potlatch was a great time. It was really fun to be around so many people with such a deep and rich sense of the genre and its history. I hope to come back.

Met up with fellow VPXers Zak (and Sharon), Dru, Lucy, and Erin in San Francisco last night. You know you’re with the right crowd when one minute they’re giving you a proper chiding for falling off the wagon and taking up World of Warcraft again, and then the next minute they start suggesting new guild names for you.

(Regarding World of Warcraft… don’t worry, I’ve got it under control this time, man.)

Anyway, I must say the SF Hyatt is most impressive on the inside. I think I must have been there as a child many years ago, because the feeling of vertigo and “Holy crap, I’m inside a giant open-air ziggurat!” seemed… strangely familiar. Or maybe I’m confusing the Hyatt with the Luxor? Regardless, they did have a loungy bar, which served a drink called “Cotton Candy” that was pink and delicious, and I am totally going to order one on my next first date. If there ever is another first date in my future, because let’s face it, once you get back on the World of Warcraft wagon, things like “talking to women” and “bathing” start to fall by the wayside. Kidding! Got it totally under control! [thumbs up]

The bar also deserves props for making clever use of hanging lights and wispy coverings, strung to create the illusion of a smaller, cozier space. Just don’t look behind you or straight up, because then you realize that no, you’re still inside the scary ziggurat and ohmygod Quetzalcoatl is going to swoop down and eat us all. Ah, the primal human fear of being eaten by giant flying lizards. Although my fellow VPXers seemed unconcerned. Maybe it’s just me? And the Creationists, probably, what with their Pteranodons and all.

Always Watch The Skies.

Charles Stross, “Genre neuroses 101“:

“Finally, there is the blasted heath that is fantasy. At least the two decade long post Lord of the Rings hang-over is mostly over, and the post-movie-trilogy bean fest has faded somewhat. There’s some really interesting stuff going on there (paging Paul Park, Paul Park to the white courtesy phone — or Steven Brust, at a pinch). But fantasy is, almost by definition, consolatory and escapist literature. Pure fantasy doesn’t really tell us anything about the world we live in, and I fail to discern any huge new movements sweeping the field as symptoms of the cultural neuroses of one country or another.” (emphasis mine)

Two problems with the sentence in bold.

First, fantasy is not “by definition” consolatory and escapist. Not even China Mieville believes that. It is trivial to come up with counterexamples.

Second, why is “consolatory” fantasy so obviously inferior to “unsettling” fantasy? I can agree that fantasy that rattles our sensibilities can be excellent. But saying that excellent fantasy must rattle our sensibilities, that’s not qualitatively different from saying that all excellent fantasy should Teach Us Something. Ugh. Look, I don’t mind if you enjoy attempting to OMG R0X0r OUR W0rldvi3w!!!11one1!!, but please, don’t assume that’s the end-all be-all goal for fiction.

Oh, and another thing. “Pure fantasy doesn’t really tell us anything about the world…” Umm, if this is a reference to fundamentally aphysical nature of fantasy, please do keep in mind that 98% of SF, even “hard SF”, is equally aphysical. Those “nanobot/Singularity” stories that are so hip these days? They’re as grounded in reality as the latest offering from Laurel K. Hamilton. Not that nanobot stories can’t be fun and all, but if you’re actually taking them seriously, well, that faint murmuring you’re hearing is the sound of a thousand condensed-matter physicists snickering.

Ever wonder how carnivorous aliens can devour humans without getting sick, even though they have totally different biochemistries? Well, Steve Eley has the answer:

“Dessert?”

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m chordate intolerant.”

“So am I. Have you tried Terranex?”

“Terranex? What’s that?”

“It’s the new supplement for Earth invaders with sensitive thoracic cavities like ours. It breaks down those complex protein chains so your body doesn’t have to!”

“I had no idea!”

“For best results, Terranex should be taken every solar cycle. Side effects may include headaches, nausea, or the sudden transformation into a half-human hybrid consumed by inexplicable angst and intent on the destruction of your own race. If irritation persists, please see your geneticist. Now…how about an entertainment lawyer?”

“I’ll take two!” [laughter] “THANKS, TERRANEX!”

Had I crossed into a parallel universe?

The first bizarre experience was when I called Blue Cross to cancel my individual health coverage. While contracting, I had been paying for the absolute cheapest health care package I could — the kind of package that basically only covers catastrophic events. Blue Cross has some fancy name and number for this package, but they should really call it the “Be a good son and pay us some money so that you won’t bankrupt your parents should (God forbid) you come down with a horrible degenerative disease” package.

Anywaaay, I called Blue Cross, got through right away (whoa!) and asked to cancel my policy. The lady told me that A) I had to fax in that request, and B) the billing date had passed for the month, and so I was still on the hook for one more month’s payment. Bummer. I thanked her and hung up, annoyed with myself for waiting too many days. Then two minutes later, the phone rings. “Hello, sir?” Although I had given up, she had gone to the effort to ask her supervisor about this. It turned out that if I faxed in the request that day, it would arrive in time to cancel for the month. Woo! Yay Blue Cross customer service department!

The second bizarre experience was when I called the IRS with some questions about whether I needed to pay estimated tax for some contract work earlier this year. To my amazement, I got through right away (again, whoa!) and ended up speaking with an IRS customer service rep for about 20 minutes. We went through some options, crunched some numbers,¹ and in the end I knew exactly how to proceed. I guess there’s something to be said for calling the IRS in September rather than April, but still — yay IRS customer service department!

At this point I was becoming convinced that I had stepped into some sort of parallel universe where everything is turned upside down. Could Evil be Good? Could Good be Evil? Could violating a business contract have actual consequences in the real world?² But then on Friday night I met up with Pat, Sam, and Mike in downtown Campbell, and none of them were wearing evil parallel-universe goatees. Whew. For a second there, I was getting worried.

1. I realize I’m a little quirky in that I actually like crunching numbers.

2. Nah.

Look out — it’s the end of the semester, and mild-mannered law professor Jeff Cooper is on a rampage!

Hulk SMASH puny exams! Hulk SMASH students who didn’t listen to Hulk in class all semester! Hulk SMASH!!

Ah, brings back those sweet, sweet memories of grading Introductory Astrophysics. And people wonder why the grad school dropout rate is so high.

So I finally caught The Matrix Reloaded yesterday. I liked it quite a bit — the action was superb, and the plot as a whole was a bit darker than I expected. Sure, the dialogue could have used some work, as others have pointed out. Unfortunately, most of the negative reviews that did so are essentially copy-and-paste jobs from the venerable SF Action Movie Review Template:

1. Complain that the plot was “confusing”.
2. Mock the dialogue savagely.
3. Give a cursory nod to the action sequences. Or not.
4. Make some not-very-nice generalizations about SF. (Optional step; extra credit.)
5. Throw up hands, declaring the movie to be “critic proof”. “Go have your fun, dweebs!”

In short, little to be learned here.

By far the strangest review came from AintItCoolNews, where the reviewer is apparently upset that The Matrix Reloaded had no werewolves or vampires. I rushed to go read the AICN review because another article had mentioned this in passing, and my first instinct was, “Poor guy. I bet he’s been misquoted or taken out of context.” But no, the first article was absolutely correct. The AICN reviewer does indeed go on for several paragraphs about how angry he is that there were no werewolves. Or vampires. For the record: while The Matrix Reloaded had its share of deficiencies, a lack of werewolves and vampires was not among them. The reviewer was also very upset about a major plot event that as far as I can tell occurred only in the reviewer’s imagination. One would think a fanboy site would be more plot-detail-oriented, but one is, as usual, quite mistaken.¹

The most on-point “negative” review I found was by Stephen Hunter of the Washington Post. Hunter doesn’t hate the movie, but at least he understands the plot and is thus able to separate the good from the bad in a coherent manner. A major step forward.² Sure, I can quibble with some of Hunter’s complaints, such as his dislike for the “Burly Brawl”. (Personally, I thought the fight really picked up when Neo picked up that pole and started swatting the Agent Smiths around.) But I can’t disagree with Hunter when he says:

Alas, up front, too much time is spent on internecine Zion politics. Really, who cares, especially when expressed, ? la “Star Wars: The Attack of the Clones” and every movie ever made about Imperial Rome, in a rhetorical style that might be called High Fructose-Emulsified Purple. “The Council has asked me to speak tonight at the temple gathering,” intones old Anthony Zerbe in stentorian voice, in a toga, or is it a breechcloth or a nightshirt? Really, this never works, here or anywhere.

No, indeed it doesn’t. Heck, not even the Imperial Romans spoke in High Fructose-Emulsified Purple, as Julius Caesar’s own writings make clear. Which begs the question… why spend so much time and care crafting the stunts and fight scenes and costumes and then totally blow it on the politics?

The answer is obvious: it’s my fault. Or rather, my fault along with everyone else who declares their willingness to shell out nine bucks for the stunts and special effects alone. We’re victims of our own low expectations. At this point I should cry, “We should expect more!” But that sounds very movementarian to me, and I’m already getting a headache. I guess if we want a fusion of good wire-fu and good political dialogue, we’d better write and produce our own damn movies.

1. By now you might be scratching your head and wondering, “What on earth were you doing reading an AintItCoolNews review?” And you’d have a point. My only defense is that AICN is one of those habits wherein you have to endure numerous painful experiences before (hopefully) growing out of the whole thing. Like binge drinking, or Slashdot.

2. Ah, the Washington Post Style section… between Stephen Hunter and Carolyn Hax, they’ve almost made up for Hank Steuver.

Goer: “What are you trying to tell me? That I can dodge control characters in comments?”

Distler: “No, Evan. I am trying to tell you that when you’re ready… you won’t have to.”

Whoa.

As you can see, we¹ here at goer.org are eagerly anticipating the arrival of the new Matrix movie. I don’t particularly care about the alleged philosophical ruminations of The Matrix, all of which have been examined at length by earlier philosophers and writers. At best we can say that The Matrix has tied up these concepts and presented them in an appealing package. Which is something, at least.

Nope, I’m there for the action. I want to see Mr. Anderson wiping the floor with a hundred Mr. Smiths. I want to see Morpheus battling the Twins. Most of all, I want to see Trinity dealing out destruction while clad in black vinyl. Some might roll their eyes, thinking the black vinyl outfits to be hackneyed and cliched… faux cool. Hey, I’m just sayin’, I think Carrie-Anne Moss makes it work.

Finally, I apologize for the new, temporary, Matrix-themed style sheet.² Unfortunately this site does not provide a style sheet switcher, so I’m afraid that if you don’t like the new look, you’re going to just have to suffer for the next couple of weeks. Please don’t be angry with me. Instead only try to realize the truth: there is no style sheet. Then you’ll see that it is not the style sheet that changes, it is only yourself.

1. Meaning, of course, “me”.

2. If you don’t see any difference… then as Zeldman likes to say, “Kindly reload.”

Well, the Goer clan gathering last night went off without a hitch. Actually, that’s not quite true… we managed to break an heirloom crystal goblet, fumble the silverware, and spill wine on the off-white tablecloth. But at least it was a fun evening, in a Clouseauesque kind of way.

By the way, Mom informed me that the meeting was technically not a Goer clan gathering, as her brother had brought a sizable Harman contingent. Perhaps true… but if it came down to a loya jirga, I think the Goer clan would win any vote (unless the Harmans struck some sort of devious alliance with the Zelonys, in which case all hell would break loose). Besides, one should never underestimate a Goer. We might be small in size and numbers, but we’re surprisingly mean when provoked.

I suppose I might as well link to this NY Times article by A.O. Scott [registration required; my name/password is egoer1/simox]. I’m sure all the various warblogs, techblogs, and nerdblogs will link to it in short order, but why not hop on the bandwagon early, eh?

The appeal of fantasy has been especially powerful among those who find themselves marginalized by the brutal social universe of American secondary education ? geeks, losers, nerds. You remember them from high school ? or you remember being one of them ? the guys who filled their notebooks with meticulous line drawings of broadsword-wielding berserkers and their large-breasted consorts, who staffed the tech crew for the spring theatricals and dominated the computer club, who used words like “grok” in ordinary conversation. Their devotion to sci-fi and sword-and-sorcery arcana invited ridicule, but was also a defense against it. But such mockery is, by now, obsolete. The triumph of fantasy culture, like the transformation of the cult of the computer into mainstream religion, is their revenge. We are all nerds now. And we had better do our homework.

So we nerds have triumphed. Huzzah! Actually, I think the article is not that far off the mark, although there are a few unfortunate exceptions, such as this one: “The confusing issue of sex is kept at a safe distance; romantic considerations are ancillary to the fight against evil, and to the cameraderie of warriors.” Methinks Scott has, contrary to his/her own advice, not done his/her homework. Other than that, an interesting read.

The only sad thing is that the NY Times link will disappear in a few weeks. Clueless, utterly clueless. Recently the LA Times changed their website over to the NY Times model. Unbelievable. Did the LA Times think that the NY Times actually knew what they were doing with their website or something? It’s bad enough that the NY Times is lost in the dark, but now perfectly respectable papers are starting to copy them? I find myself linking to inferior papers for that very reason. I’ll make the occasional exception, sure… but I just know I’ll be looking through my archives a few months from now, notice the old, broken link to the NY Times, and slap myself in the forehead. “What were you thinking, linking to the Times?” I’ll tell myself. “Didn’t you vow never to do it again!” Sigh.

You have to love the folks at the Weekly Standard and the National Review. They are so gleefully troglodytic. You can always count on them for an explanation of why we should nuke Iraq (summary: hey, you’ve got to get those bunkers somehow), a lecture on the danger of democracy (summary: the opinion of the people changes over time, and sometimes they start to dislike things that the author of the article likes), and even the occasional whine about gays being “freakish and disgusting”, disguised as a “Yuletide olive branch” (summary: have a Merry Christmas, fags!)

However, my favorite example of mainstream rightwingers run amok is “The Case for the Empire“:

Palpatine believes that the political order must be manipulated to produce peace and stability. When he mutters, “There is no civility, there is only politics,” we see that at heart, he’s an esoteric Straussian…

…the important thing to recognize is that the Empire is not committing random acts of terror. It is engaged in a fight for the survival of its regime against a violent group of rebels who are committed to its destruction.

Aside from glossing over the destruction of the planet Alderaan (well, they were harboring rebels — probably) and an unfortunate analogy between Emperor Palpatine and the “relatively benign” Pinochet (lucky for Pinochet — when your civilian murder rate only rises into the tens-of-thousands, you get downgraded from “genocidal fascist” to “relatively benign”), it’s not a bad article. That is, “not bad” in the sense of “not bad for the traffic to your website.” It seems these days nobody is too conservative and stodgy to pick up on the time-honored Salon strategy of baiting the Slashdot and weblog geeks. Heck, this geek fell for it.

I can’t help myself, really. I know perfectly well that anyone who spends any time reading “blogs” or journals will stumble across links like the “Case for the Empire”. But herdlike, I follow the rest of the “blogging community” (whatever that is). And usually I’m a week too late, which is a mortal (or at least a venal) sin in some blogging circles.

Nevertheless, although I sometimes fall short of blogging community standards, and I occasionally read more right-wing diatribes at one sitting than is healthy, please don’t worry about my immortal soul or anything like that. I’m not turning to the dark side any time soon. After all, I use a Mac, and as the show 24 has taught us this season, the Mac users are always the good guys. So there.