To understand the voter ID laws currently being proposed and implemented in many states, it's important to first understand the problem: Voter fraud. Voter fraud is, essentially, any effort to rig the election in order to make sure it doesn't represent an accurate total of votes from the citizens of the country in question, usually to the benefit of the fraudster.
Voter fraud takes two basic forms. The first is the casting of additional ballots for one candidate that are not legitimate, inflating the total number of votes for that candidate to give them an edge. (Known as "stuffing the ballot-box" in some circles, as the oldest and most primitive form of the practice involved literally shoving fake ballots into the boxes used for counting.)
The second is the denial or destruction of legitimate votes cast for one's opposition, in order to artificially deflate the vote totals against the fraudster and give them an edge. Sometimes this is done through literal destruction or shredding of ballots, but most often it takes the form of erecting a (literal or metaphorical) fraudulent barrier to voting. For example, a fraudster might circulate a flyer among their opponent's supporters stating an incorrect time or place for polling, hoping to fool those supporters out of casting legitimate votes.
Currently, Republicans are claiming that the best way to prevent voter fraud of the first type (illegal additional ballots cast) is to erect a (metaphorical) barrier to voting, in the form of stringent requirements for voter ID. These requirements are estimated to prevent somewhere in the neighborhood of three thousand times as many legitimate votes from being cast as they will stop illegitimate votes from going through. (Depending on which estimates are used. Some estimates suggest that the number may be as high as thirty thousand, not three thousand.) Coincidentally, these legitimate ballots generally belong to demographic groups that vote overwhelmingly Democratic.
So to make it very simple: Republicans are currently insisting it's better to commit voter fraud 30,000 times over in ways that benefit them than to stand by and allow 10 cases of voter fraud that may benefit their opponents...or them.
What's complicated is why anyone believes these crooks anymore.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Friday, August 17, 2012
Dalek Vs. Jedi
I was asked about this a day or two ago, in my (apparent) capacity as expert on both Daleks and Jedi...and while it may be egotistical of me, I thought that people might be interested in my response. In a battle between a Dalek and a Jedi, who would win?
The specific question I was asked to weigh in on at first was, "Would a Dalek be affected by a Jedi's telekinesis?" This seems like a pretty good place to start, as telekinesis is one of the best weapons in a Jedi's arsenal. (Which brings up the question of why they never use it in lightsaber duels, but I'm willing to handwave that away with the assumption that equally matched Jedi either keep each other too busy with lightsaber attacks for either to bring to mind the requisite TK focus, or equally matched Jedi can block each other's telekinesis through some sort of non-visually-discernable means. I bring this up to demonstrate that I can BS with the best of them.)
The answer, I felt, is that yes, Daleks are somewhat vulnerable to Jedi telekinesis. Not totally--I think a Dalek's armor/force field, generally demonstrated to be proof against most projectile weapons, is too tough to be crushed or warped by a Jedi's telekinetic powers. Likewise, Jedi abilities have never been shown to be able to work through solid objects, so the Kaled mutant inside is probably safe from having its life-support tubes yanked out or something similar. But could a Jedi knock a Dalek over, or spoil its aim by moving the gunstick around? Yes.
Which is probably a good thing, because Dalek weaponry is generally portrayed as being not a cutting beam or a projectile, but a packet of energy that "detonates" on contact, creating a disruptive (or possibly explosive) effect that scrambles internal organs and bursts cells. In other words, the Jedi tactic of batting aside blaster bolts would be about as effective as using a baseball bat to deflect a Molotov cocktail. The first Jedi to fight the first Dalek would probably be in for a nasty surprise.
The second one, though, would probably fare better. Telekinesis could keep the Dalek's gunstick pointing in the wrong direction (or spin the Dalek's middle section around to face away) long enough for the Jedi to get into lightsaber range...and lightsabers, traditionally speaking, have been shown to be able to cut through anything. (We could argue the strength of the force-field at the lightsaber's core versus the strength of the force-field surrounding the Dalek (as exhibited in 'Doomsday', natch) but it'd be a moot point. There's not enough evidence to judge, and writerly fiat would trump real-world physics here.) So basically, the Jedi could slice up the Dalek like a layer cake, albeit a large one with a very hideous exotic dancer inside.
So the answer is ultimately "yes". After a particularly hideous casualty to serve as a tactical lesson, a Jedi could take on a Dalek. The only problem is...there's very rarely just "a" Dalek. The Dalek philosophy tends to be, "Why send in a Dalek when you can send in two thousand Daleks to do the same job?" They're also not shy on using strategies that involve expendable Dalek troops. So after the first few Daleks bite it, the Daleks are either going to attack in numbers too massive for the Jedi to deal with, or they're just going to start self-destructing whenever a Jedi gets close to them and banking on the fact that they have more Daleks than the Jedi do Jedi. ("Jedi Do Jedi" is, of course, a fanfilm that Lucas came down pretty hard on with the cease and desists.)
If you want, you can factor in the Jedi Mind Trick, but let's face it--the Jedi Mind Trick never works in the big fights. In 'Feng Shui' terms, it succeeds against unnamed characters only. Random Dalek that you have to distract so that you can sneak past? Weak-willed. Angry Dalek exploding six inches away from you? Bad news for the Jedi.
Ultimately, I think that the Daleks would win through overwhelming force, which is pretty much did in the Jedi order last time, too. Be fun to watch, though.
The specific question I was asked to weigh in on at first was, "Would a Dalek be affected by a Jedi's telekinesis?" This seems like a pretty good place to start, as telekinesis is one of the best weapons in a Jedi's arsenal. (Which brings up the question of why they never use it in lightsaber duels, but I'm willing to handwave that away with the assumption that equally matched Jedi either keep each other too busy with lightsaber attacks for either to bring to mind the requisite TK focus, or equally matched Jedi can block each other's telekinesis through some sort of non-visually-discernable means. I bring this up to demonstrate that I can BS with the best of them.)
The answer, I felt, is that yes, Daleks are somewhat vulnerable to Jedi telekinesis. Not totally--I think a Dalek's armor/force field, generally demonstrated to be proof against most projectile weapons, is too tough to be crushed or warped by a Jedi's telekinetic powers. Likewise, Jedi abilities have never been shown to be able to work through solid objects, so the Kaled mutant inside is probably safe from having its life-support tubes yanked out or something similar. But could a Jedi knock a Dalek over, or spoil its aim by moving the gunstick around? Yes.
Which is probably a good thing, because Dalek weaponry is generally portrayed as being not a cutting beam or a projectile, but a packet of energy that "detonates" on contact, creating a disruptive (or possibly explosive) effect that scrambles internal organs and bursts cells. In other words, the Jedi tactic of batting aside blaster bolts would be about as effective as using a baseball bat to deflect a Molotov cocktail. The first Jedi to fight the first Dalek would probably be in for a nasty surprise.
The second one, though, would probably fare better. Telekinesis could keep the Dalek's gunstick pointing in the wrong direction (or spin the Dalek's middle section around to face away) long enough for the Jedi to get into lightsaber range...and lightsabers, traditionally speaking, have been shown to be able to cut through anything. (We could argue the strength of the force-field at the lightsaber's core versus the strength of the force-field surrounding the Dalek (as exhibited in 'Doomsday', natch) but it'd be a moot point. There's not enough evidence to judge, and writerly fiat would trump real-world physics here.) So basically, the Jedi could slice up the Dalek like a layer cake, albeit a large one with a very hideous exotic dancer inside.
So the answer is ultimately "yes". After a particularly hideous casualty to serve as a tactical lesson, a Jedi could take on a Dalek. The only problem is...there's very rarely just "a" Dalek. The Dalek philosophy tends to be, "Why send in a Dalek when you can send in two thousand Daleks to do the same job?" They're also not shy on using strategies that involve expendable Dalek troops. So after the first few Daleks bite it, the Daleks are either going to attack in numbers too massive for the Jedi to deal with, or they're just going to start self-destructing whenever a Jedi gets close to them and banking on the fact that they have more Daleks than the Jedi do Jedi. ("Jedi Do Jedi" is, of course, a fanfilm that Lucas came down pretty hard on with the cease and desists.)
If you want, you can factor in the Jedi Mind Trick, but let's face it--the Jedi Mind Trick never works in the big fights. In 'Feng Shui' terms, it succeeds against unnamed characters only. Random Dalek that you have to distract so that you can sneak past? Weak-willed. Angry Dalek exploding six inches away from you? Bad news for the Jedi.
Ultimately, I think that the Daleks would win through overwhelming force, which is pretty much did in the Jedi order last time, too. Be fun to watch, though.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Self-Taught Superheroes, Part Seventeen
(Bet you thought I'd forgotten about this, huh?)
It's probably worth noting that this is the point where I have to stop telling you about my dream about the first time we teamed up as superheroes and start just telling you what happened. Because in my dream, after the lights went out, I suddenly realized I was in a haunted house filled with angry telepathic frogs, and that's not really even close to what came next. (I mention it now because it'll explain why I woke up yelling, "Don't crawl down my shirt!" But that's for later.)
In fact, once the lights went out, all we could see was Captain Light. He actually glows when he's using his powers. It's a sort of soft, golden light. It kind of made him a big target, but he didn't mind. He flew into the nearest group of soldiers like a battering ram, sending them scattering like bowling pins. The flashes were almost blinding every time his fists connected--I'm not sure what kind of energy he discharges when he punches, but it packs a wallop. The big war machines weren't moving in on him, either because they were afraid to hit their teammates or because the power failure had affected them too, and those sonic guns that they carried didn't affect him very much.
Meanwhile, that force field curtain that was protecting Lord Raptor had gone down. I made a dash for him--I was having to move a little slow because of the poor light, but I was still faster than any human being alive. I hit him with about 130 pounds of teenage girl while he was still backing away from the table, and he went sprawling. Before I could start laying into him, though, John Q. Public had closed the difference. "Don't beat him up too bad," he said. "He needs to show us where the hostages are."
I nodded, then sprinted over to where Captain Light was wading through the crowd. (I admit, I took about five seconds to kick some heads in on my way. We all help in our own little way.) "Canyoukeepthemdistracted?BecauseI'mgoingtogowiththatJohnQ.Publicguytofindthehostagesandhelpfreethem!" I asked. (For the record, this was officially the first time I forgot that I can talk too fast for other people to understand.)
Captain Light stared at me in mute incomprehension for a moment. "Um..." A guy came charging out of the darkness, wielding something that looked like the offspring of a lightsaber and a naginata. (Did I mention I play D&D?) Captain Light ducked under his thrust and laid him out with an uppercut that left him in a different time-zone. "Whatever you just said, it'll have to wait, okay? You need to find the hostages. I'll hold these guys off."
I think I'm a pretty impressive person for biting my tongue and doing it.
I regrouped with John Q. Public, and the two of us manhandled Lord Raptor to the door. Captain Light stayed about ten steps behind us, giving enough light for us to see while still keeping himself between the bulk of the troops and the exit. John and I did our part to make sure that anyone unlucky enough to be in our way found out that the six-foot tall glowing guy wasn't the only dangerous thing in the room. (Go Team Small and Feisty! Well, okay, John's about five-eleven, but "Go Team People Who Don't Glow!" just doesn't have the same ring to it.)
Once we were in the corridors, things got easier. Captain Light was able to hold the soldiers back a lot better when they were in a smaller space, and things were clearly way too disorganized for them to circle round. (We found out later that Neutrino Man had made a device that was jamming their comlinks. I think the lesson here is never give a fully-equipped lab to a person who's way smarter than you are and being held against your will. Thirteen percent of superhero origins would not happen if bad guys just followed that simple rule.
Lord Raptor didn't give us any trouble, surprisingly enough. He had this slightly shellshocked look on his face, and he just pointed mutely down hallways when prompted. I think, looking back, that it was probably a mix of legitimate panic and confusion (for a guy with so many contingency plans he had them numbered and lettered, a lot of stuff was getting out of control) and him biding his time until his soldiers could get the power back up and regain the advantage through sheer force of numbers. Besides, we were taking him to the hostages...and the hostages were under heavy guard, by his own express instructions. All we could possibly be doing was taking him closer and closer to his own reinforcements.
He must have gotten a pretty nasty shock when we burst into the holding cells and found a bunch of unconscious guards, and two other superheroes.
TO BE CONTINUED...
It's probably worth noting that this is the point where I have to stop telling you about my dream about the first time we teamed up as superheroes and start just telling you what happened. Because in my dream, after the lights went out, I suddenly realized I was in a haunted house filled with angry telepathic frogs, and that's not really even close to what came next. (I mention it now because it'll explain why I woke up yelling, "Don't crawl down my shirt!" But that's for later.)
In fact, once the lights went out, all we could see was Captain Light. He actually glows when he's using his powers. It's a sort of soft, golden light. It kind of made him a big target, but he didn't mind. He flew into the nearest group of soldiers like a battering ram, sending them scattering like bowling pins. The flashes were almost blinding every time his fists connected--I'm not sure what kind of energy he discharges when he punches, but it packs a wallop. The big war machines weren't moving in on him, either because they were afraid to hit their teammates or because the power failure had affected them too, and those sonic guns that they carried didn't affect him very much.
Meanwhile, that force field curtain that was protecting Lord Raptor had gone down. I made a dash for him--I was having to move a little slow because of the poor light, but I was still faster than any human being alive. I hit him with about 130 pounds of teenage girl while he was still backing away from the table, and he went sprawling. Before I could start laying into him, though, John Q. Public had closed the difference. "Don't beat him up too bad," he said. "He needs to show us where the hostages are."
I nodded, then sprinted over to where Captain Light was wading through the crowd. (I admit, I took about five seconds to kick some heads in on my way. We all help in our own little way.) "Canyoukeepthemdistracted?BecauseI'mgoingtogowiththatJohnQ.Publicguytofindthehostagesandhelpfreethem!" I asked. (For the record, this was officially the first time I forgot that I can talk too fast for other people to understand.)
Captain Light stared at me in mute incomprehension for a moment. "Um..." A guy came charging out of the darkness, wielding something that looked like the offspring of a lightsaber and a naginata. (Did I mention I play D&D?) Captain Light ducked under his thrust and laid him out with an uppercut that left him in a different time-zone. "Whatever you just said, it'll have to wait, okay? You need to find the hostages. I'll hold these guys off."
I think I'm a pretty impressive person for biting my tongue and doing it.
I regrouped with John Q. Public, and the two of us manhandled Lord Raptor to the door. Captain Light stayed about ten steps behind us, giving enough light for us to see while still keeping himself between the bulk of the troops and the exit. John and I did our part to make sure that anyone unlucky enough to be in our way found out that the six-foot tall glowing guy wasn't the only dangerous thing in the room. (Go Team Small and Feisty! Well, okay, John's about five-eleven, but "Go Team People Who Don't Glow!" just doesn't have the same ring to it.)
Once we were in the corridors, things got easier. Captain Light was able to hold the soldiers back a lot better when they were in a smaller space, and things were clearly way too disorganized for them to circle round. (We found out later that Neutrino Man had made a device that was jamming their comlinks. I think the lesson here is never give a fully-equipped lab to a person who's way smarter than you are and being held against your will. Thirteen percent of superhero origins would not happen if bad guys just followed that simple rule.
Lord Raptor didn't give us any trouble, surprisingly enough. He had this slightly shellshocked look on his face, and he just pointed mutely down hallways when prompted. I think, looking back, that it was probably a mix of legitimate panic and confusion (for a guy with so many contingency plans he had them numbered and lettered, a lot of stuff was getting out of control) and him biding his time until his soldiers could get the power back up and regain the advantage through sheer force of numbers. Besides, we were taking him to the hostages...and the hostages were under heavy guard, by his own express instructions. All we could possibly be doing was taking him closer and closer to his own reinforcements.
He must have gotten a pretty nasty shock when we burst into the holding cells and found a bunch of unconscious guards, and two other superheroes.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Friday, August 10, 2012
Confessions of a Comic-Book Refugee
I've had a shocking realization creep up on me over the last year or so. It really began to hit me during CONvergence, the sci-fi con I attended in July, but it's been slowly building ever since about 2007. I've been trying to deny it for a long time, but I think it's about time I admitted it.
I don't think I'm a comic book fan anymore.
It's weird to say that, given that I'm currently reading 'The Essential Hulk, Volume 6', having just polished off 'The Essential Captain America, Volume 5', and looking forward to the next Marvel movie...but I mean it in the sense of "following the events of the Marvel and DC Universe on a regular or even semi-regular basis." I'm sure I'll still read individual comic books--the medium isn't dead to me--but I can't imagine going back to Marvel or DC anymore. Even if I had the kind of unlimited finances that you'd need to buy the endless cat's cradle of crossovers and tie-ins and "summer events", I don't care anymore. I don't even want to know anymore, because hearing about DC's new zero issues or Earth-Two or AvX just makes me kind of sad and achy, like hearing about a friend you used to know who's in jail for dealing heroin and is HIV-positive. When I talk to comics fans about comics, I find that I just don't have a common interest with them anymore. And I'll admit, I never thought that would happen.
I think it started, as I said, back in 2007. I'd been in and out of the hobby for a while, starting back in 2002; I'd made the jump from floppies to trades, and it's only when you're not hitting the store every week to get the new fix that you step back and realize how much you're buying out of habit. When you evaluate each series in terms of, "Do I want a whole other book of this?", you find that the answer is "no" a whole lot more often than it was when you were just buying 32 more pages. I bought less and less until I was buying pretty much nothing for a year or two. And once you're not visiting the store every week, it's like comics become invisible to you. When I did go into a comics store, I didn't even know what was popular. The sad truth of comics marketing is that it's far easier to leave the hobby right now than it is to rejoin it.
...and then, in 2005, I found myself drawn back into the weekly grind. It started with morbid curiosity--I went for a visit to my local comics store, just to see what was happening, and wound up buying an issue of 'Infinite Crisis' just to convince myself that they were really doing it. That turned into the seeds of an idea for a book on the crossover phenomenon, from 'Crisis' to 'Crisis' in DC and 'Secret War' to 'Civil War' at Marvel...and while I was researching the book, I got back into the habit of buying. And following. I picked up all the 'Civil War' tie-ins, followed the follow-ups, read '52', and started in on 'Countdown' and 'World War Hulk'...
And then one day it hit me. This was all really terrible, and I was spending all my money on it. Marvel had gone from a crossover where the Scarlet Witch was the villain to one where the Scarlet Witch was the villain again to one where Iron Man was the villain (or Captain America, as Mark Millar unconvincingly insisted) to one where the Hulk was the villain. The heroes were all acting like villains and the villains were all acting like villains, to the point where I didn't actually like anyone I was reading about. Meanwhile, 'Countdown' was infamously terrible, and 'Amazons Attack' was notoriously inept as well. I could not imagine enjoying any of this stuff anymore.
And so I stopped buying it. But I still followed it all. Wikipedia, Newsarama, CBR...I still paid attention, even as I wrote endlessly about classic comics on this blog and realized I derived more enjoyment from comics written decades before my birth than I could ever get from the current crop of stories. Every time I read about a new crossover, a new event, a new reboot or preboot or softboot or retcon or prestconbootventover, it just made me irritated.
And then, at CONvergence, at a panel on the DC reboot, it finally hit me. I didn't care anymore. I didn't even care about it enough for it to anger me, unless it was right there in front of me. I was in the room, but all I could think about was how I had nothing to say to these people. We weren't speaking a common language, because I wasn't buying or reading or interested in any of the stuff they were talking about. Even the good books by creators I liked (like Paul Cornell) didn't interest me. The friend had died in prison, I'd sent a condolence card to the family, and I had moved on. 'Avengers vs. X-Men'? 'Marvel Now'? Just the corpse twitching in a lifelike manner.
And on the flip side...there were the movies. I have found myself eagerly devouring casting news, announcements of new projects, trailers and set photos and rumors. The apathy and vague depression that I feel when I hear about Marvel's comics stands in even starker contrast compared to my excitement and sheer joy over the films. I'm still a super-hero fan, just as much as ever. Maybe even more so. But there are other places for me to get that fix, ones that don't involve pointless misogyny and flailing desperation and endless, pathetic attempts to seem "mature" by rehashing themes that felt warmed over 25 years ago. (And in some cases not just themes, DC, I'm looking right at you and your 'Before Watchmen'...)
I'm now a refugee from the world of comics, taking up a new home in the world of movies and TV shows and reprints about the characters I love. It's kind of a relief to get that off my chest. I hope that those of you who are still comics fans won't think less of me for not being able to get excited about your hobby anymore. And I hope those of you who share this feeling will join me over here, where we're all eagerly awaiting 'Cap 2' and 'Iron Man 3' and 'Ant-Man' and 'Guardians of the Galaxy'...and where we're all hoping that someday, DC will get its act together and give us something to love the same way.
I used to be a comics fan. And while I still love a lot of individual comics...I don't think I am anymore.
I don't think I'm a comic book fan anymore.
It's weird to say that, given that I'm currently reading 'The Essential Hulk, Volume 6', having just polished off 'The Essential Captain America, Volume 5', and looking forward to the next Marvel movie...but I mean it in the sense of "following the events of the Marvel and DC Universe on a regular or even semi-regular basis." I'm sure I'll still read individual comic books--the medium isn't dead to me--but I can't imagine going back to Marvel or DC anymore. Even if I had the kind of unlimited finances that you'd need to buy the endless cat's cradle of crossovers and tie-ins and "summer events", I don't care anymore. I don't even want to know anymore, because hearing about DC's new zero issues or Earth-Two or AvX just makes me kind of sad and achy, like hearing about a friend you used to know who's in jail for dealing heroin and is HIV-positive. When I talk to comics fans about comics, I find that I just don't have a common interest with them anymore. And I'll admit, I never thought that would happen.
I think it started, as I said, back in 2007. I'd been in and out of the hobby for a while, starting back in 2002; I'd made the jump from floppies to trades, and it's only when you're not hitting the store every week to get the new fix that you step back and realize how much you're buying out of habit. When you evaluate each series in terms of, "Do I want a whole other book of this?", you find that the answer is "no" a whole lot more often than it was when you were just buying 32 more pages. I bought less and less until I was buying pretty much nothing for a year or two. And once you're not visiting the store every week, it's like comics become invisible to you. When I did go into a comics store, I didn't even know what was popular. The sad truth of comics marketing is that it's far easier to leave the hobby right now than it is to rejoin it.
...and then, in 2005, I found myself drawn back into the weekly grind. It started with morbid curiosity--I went for a visit to my local comics store, just to see what was happening, and wound up buying an issue of 'Infinite Crisis' just to convince myself that they were really doing it. That turned into the seeds of an idea for a book on the crossover phenomenon, from 'Crisis' to 'Crisis' in DC and 'Secret War' to 'Civil War' at Marvel...and while I was researching the book, I got back into the habit of buying. And following. I picked up all the 'Civil War' tie-ins, followed the follow-ups, read '52', and started in on 'Countdown' and 'World War Hulk'...
And then one day it hit me. This was all really terrible, and I was spending all my money on it. Marvel had gone from a crossover where the Scarlet Witch was the villain to one where the Scarlet Witch was the villain again to one where Iron Man was the villain (or Captain America, as Mark Millar unconvincingly insisted) to one where the Hulk was the villain. The heroes were all acting like villains and the villains were all acting like villains, to the point where I didn't actually like anyone I was reading about. Meanwhile, 'Countdown' was infamously terrible, and 'Amazons Attack' was notoriously inept as well. I could not imagine enjoying any of this stuff anymore.
And so I stopped buying it. But I still followed it all. Wikipedia, Newsarama, CBR...I still paid attention, even as I wrote endlessly about classic comics on this blog and realized I derived more enjoyment from comics written decades before my birth than I could ever get from the current crop of stories. Every time I read about a new crossover, a new event, a new reboot or preboot or softboot or retcon or prestconbootventover, it just made me irritated.
And then, at CONvergence, at a panel on the DC reboot, it finally hit me. I didn't care anymore. I didn't even care about it enough for it to anger me, unless it was right there in front of me. I was in the room, but all I could think about was how I had nothing to say to these people. We weren't speaking a common language, because I wasn't buying or reading or interested in any of the stuff they were talking about. Even the good books by creators I liked (like Paul Cornell) didn't interest me. The friend had died in prison, I'd sent a condolence card to the family, and I had moved on. 'Avengers vs. X-Men'? 'Marvel Now'? Just the corpse twitching in a lifelike manner.
And on the flip side...there were the movies. I have found myself eagerly devouring casting news, announcements of new projects, trailers and set photos and rumors. The apathy and vague depression that I feel when I hear about Marvel's comics stands in even starker contrast compared to my excitement and sheer joy over the films. I'm still a super-hero fan, just as much as ever. Maybe even more so. But there are other places for me to get that fix, ones that don't involve pointless misogyny and flailing desperation and endless, pathetic attempts to seem "mature" by rehashing themes that felt warmed over 25 years ago. (And in some cases not just themes, DC, I'm looking right at you and your 'Before Watchmen'...)
I'm now a refugee from the world of comics, taking up a new home in the world of movies and TV shows and reprints about the characters I love. It's kind of a relief to get that off my chest. I hope that those of you who are still comics fans won't think less of me for not being able to get excited about your hobby anymore. And I hope those of you who share this feeling will join me over here, where we're all eagerly awaiting 'Cap 2' and 'Iron Man 3' and 'Ant-Man' and 'Guardians of the Galaxy'...and where we're all hoping that someday, DC will get its act together and give us something to love the same way.
I used to be a comics fan. And while I still love a lot of individual comics...I don't think I am anymore.
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
How To Finally Make a Hulk Movie Work
If there's anyone out there who doesn't think that 'The Incredible Hulk' was the weakest of the "Marvel Universe" cycle of movies, I haven't heard from them. The consensus seems to be that while it wasn't a failure like the previous, disastrous Ang Lee 'Hulk', it's certainly nothing like the show-stopping success enjoyed by two Iron Man movies, Thor, and Captain America...and that 'The Avengers' showed a possible blueprint for how to make a Hulk film work. But in an ensemble film where just about everything worked, what is it specifically that made the Hulk click in a way that he hadn't in two previous films? What did Joss Whedon do right that Ang Lee and Louis Leterrier did wrong?
The answer is simple. The Hulk spoke.
Technically, he sorta spoke in all three of his film appearances. In Ang Lee's 'Hulk', during one of the film's weird, incoherent dream sequence-y things, he said, "Puny humans," while in 'The Incredible Hulk', he shouted "Hulk smash!" at the film's climax. That's roughly the same amount of dialogue he had in 'Avengers'. But in 'Avengers', he had one of the film's most memorable, laugh-out-loud, stand-up-and-cheer lines: "Puny god," spoken after treating Loki like a particularly maladjusted toddler treats a Betsy-Wetsy doll, showed the Hulk's actual personality in a way we never saw in the previous films. It showed that the Hulk isn't just a mindless force of nature, he's a person. He has his own way of looking at the world. And while he's frequently terrifying, as a being that powerful can be, he's actually just a big dumb goofy kid inside sometimes.
The comics have been embarrassed about the Hulk's goofiness for ages. I'm not sure exactly when it happened, although Peter David's decade-long run is certainly a place to start. He famously only used the Hulk's stylized "Hulk smash puny humans!" style of dialogue that Roy Thomas invented in a very limited capacity, and usually for comic effect to contrast it with the erudite and sarcastic Hulk he was more interested in writing. And while that worked for Peter David, it's worth noting that many of his "dumb Hulk" lines were also drop-dead funny, including the awesome comment made by the green Hulk in Banner's body: "Hulk's butt hurts!" Let's face it--Hulkspeak is freaking hilarious, and it's not by accident. It's meant to sound silly. It's meant to make the Hulk a little bit sympathetic, which is needed given that he's a brute and a monster.
The films we've gotten have refused to do that. They've been obviously trying to avoid embracing the silliness inherent in the Hulk's character, and it's hard to make a film work when your director refuses to stand behind its own central idea. (Notably, Ang Lee never lets the character be called "Hulk" onscreen. That takes being ashamed of your comic-book roots to new heights.) What's needed is a film that lets the Hulk be silly and sympathetic, while never letting us forget that he's dangerous and powerful. A film where the Hulk punches the giant flying dragon-worm...and then shoulder-punches Thor clean off-camera because he's in a bad mood. It needs to be funny as well as serious, something that the previous two attempts didn't even go for.
In short, the Hulk needs to talk. And he needs to talk goofy. If you can't get behind that, scrap your draft script and go back to the computer, Mister Screenwriter.
The answer is simple. The Hulk spoke.
Technically, he sorta spoke in all three of his film appearances. In Ang Lee's 'Hulk', during one of the film's weird, incoherent dream sequence-y things, he said, "Puny humans," while in 'The Incredible Hulk', he shouted "Hulk smash!" at the film's climax. That's roughly the same amount of dialogue he had in 'Avengers'. But in 'Avengers', he had one of the film's most memorable, laugh-out-loud, stand-up-and-cheer lines: "Puny god," spoken after treating Loki like a particularly maladjusted toddler treats a Betsy-Wetsy doll, showed the Hulk's actual personality in a way we never saw in the previous films. It showed that the Hulk isn't just a mindless force of nature, he's a person. He has his own way of looking at the world. And while he's frequently terrifying, as a being that powerful can be, he's actually just a big dumb goofy kid inside sometimes.
The comics have been embarrassed about the Hulk's goofiness for ages. I'm not sure exactly when it happened, although Peter David's decade-long run is certainly a place to start. He famously only used the Hulk's stylized "Hulk smash puny humans!" style of dialogue that Roy Thomas invented in a very limited capacity, and usually for comic effect to contrast it with the erudite and sarcastic Hulk he was more interested in writing. And while that worked for Peter David, it's worth noting that many of his "dumb Hulk" lines were also drop-dead funny, including the awesome comment made by the green Hulk in Banner's body: "Hulk's butt hurts!" Let's face it--Hulkspeak is freaking hilarious, and it's not by accident. It's meant to sound silly. It's meant to make the Hulk a little bit sympathetic, which is needed given that he's a brute and a monster.
The films we've gotten have refused to do that. They've been obviously trying to avoid embracing the silliness inherent in the Hulk's character, and it's hard to make a film work when your director refuses to stand behind its own central idea. (Notably, Ang Lee never lets the character be called "Hulk" onscreen. That takes being ashamed of your comic-book roots to new heights.) What's needed is a film that lets the Hulk be silly and sympathetic, while never letting us forget that he's dangerous and powerful. A film where the Hulk punches the giant flying dragon-worm...and then shoulder-punches Thor clean off-camera because he's in a bad mood. It needs to be funny as well as serious, something that the previous two attempts didn't even go for.
In short, the Hulk needs to talk. And he needs to talk goofy. If you can't get behind that, scrap your draft script and go back to the computer, Mister Screenwriter.
Thursday, August 02, 2012
Coming Soon
[SCREEN FADES IN ON A PICTURE OF FOREST--SOMEWHERE IN VIRGINIA, OR PERHAPS WEST VIRGINIA. NEAR SUNSET, WITH SOFT, GOLDEN LIGHTING. QUIET, INSPIRATIONAL STRING MUSIC PLAYS.]
NARRATOR (ADULT MAN, WITH MELLOW SOUTHERN ACCENT--SOMEONE LIKE MATTHEW MCCONAUGHEY, OR MAYBE WOODY HARRELSON. OR CHANNING TATUM, HE'S BIG RIGHT NOW, ISN'T HE? OR IS HE NOT SOUTHERN? MAYBE WE'RE THINKING OF SOMEONE ELSE. ANYWAY...): It wasn't easy, growing up near the mines...
[CUT TO A SCENE OF A YOUNGISH MAN OUTSIDE A RAMSHACKLE HOME, WEARING A SUIT AND GLASSES--CLEARLY AN INTELLECTUAL. HE'S TALKING TO A TWELVE-YEAR OLD BOY WHO LOOKS RAGGEDY, BUT ADORABLE.]
MAN: Where's your father, son?
BOY: Don't have no pa, sir.
MAN (LOOKING SOLEMN): Then where's your mother?
BOY (LOOKING VAGUELY ASHAMED): Workin'.
[CUT TO THE FOREST. MORE OF THE REALLY PRETTY GOLDEN LIGHT.]
NARRATOR: Felt like sometimes, I didn't have a friend in the world.
[THE BOY RUNS THROUGH THE FOREST, LEAPING OVER STUMPS AND ROCKS. HIS FACE IS FILLED WITH A FURY HE CANNOT EXPRESS SAVE THROUGH MOTION. SUDDENLY, HE TRIPS OVER A ROCK AND SPILLS HEADLONG, FALLING DOWN A SLOPE TO COME UP RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE END OF A HOLLOW, ROTTED LOG. HIS EYES WIDEN IN FEAR AS HE SEES WHAT'S INSIDE.]
NARRATOR: But that was before I met Little Bub.
[A BABY WOLVERINE CRAWLS OUT OF THE HOLLOW LOG, NUZZLING AGAINST THE BOY AS IF TO SAY, "FEED ME?"]
CAPTION: In a town without hope...
[THE BOY RUNNING AGAIN, ONLY THIS TIME WITH THE WOLVERINE AT HIS SIDE. IT'S NOTICEABLY LARGER, AND THE BOY LOOKS TO HAVE A WILD GRIN ON HIS FACE.]
CAPTION: Sometimes love...is where you make it.
[CUT TO THE MAN, TALKING TO A WOMAN WHO LOOKS WEARY AND CYNICAL, YET STILL HOT. CAN WE MAYBE GET SCARLETT JOHANSSONN, PUT HER IN A GRANDMA DRESS?]
MAN: I am just trying to help you.
WOMAN (OBVIOUSLY THE BOY'S MOTHER): Well, you can't. This isn't a place where things like that happen, so don't come asking! Because I don't!
[CUT TO THE BOY, BEING PUSHED AROUND BY BULLIES. SUDDENLY, THE WOLVERINE BITES ONE OF THEM COMICALLY ON THE BUTT.]
BULLY: YeeeeeOWWWW!
[CUT TO THE MOM, CLEARLY TERRIFIED AND FURIOUS.]
MOM: You stay away from that wolverine, you hear me, boy?!
BOY: But he's my only friend!
[CUT TO THE BOY RUNNING AGAIN, THIS TIME IN THE FOREST IN THE NIGHTTIME. HE'S NERVOUS NOW, BUT THE WOLVERINE IS RUNNING ALONGSIDE HIM.]
NARRATOR: I guess you could say I became a man, that summer.
[CUT TO BOY, KISSING A GIRL FOR THE FIRST TIME. THE WOLVERINE IS PLAYING AT THEIR FEET.]
NARRATOR: The summer I found...
TITLE CARD: THE WOLVERINE.
CAPTION: When you can't believe in anyone else...believe in your heart.
........admit it. This is what you all think of when you hear that title, isn't it?
NARRATOR (ADULT MAN, WITH MELLOW SOUTHERN ACCENT--SOMEONE LIKE MATTHEW MCCONAUGHEY, OR MAYBE WOODY HARRELSON. OR CHANNING TATUM, HE'S BIG RIGHT NOW, ISN'T HE? OR IS HE NOT SOUTHERN? MAYBE WE'RE THINKING OF SOMEONE ELSE. ANYWAY...): It wasn't easy, growing up near the mines...
[CUT TO A SCENE OF A YOUNGISH MAN OUTSIDE A RAMSHACKLE HOME, WEARING A SUIT AND GLASSES--CLEARLY AN INTELLECTUAL. HE'S TALKING TO A TWELVE-YEAR OLD BOY WHO LOOKS RAGGEDY, BUT ADORABLE.]
MAN: Where's your father, son?
BOY: Don't have no pa, sir.
MAN (LOOKING SOLEMN): Then where's your mother?
BOY (LOOKING VAGUELY ASHAMED): Workin'.
[CUT TO THE FOREST. MORE OF THE REALLY PRETTY GOLDEN LIGHT.]
NARRATOR: Felt like sometimes, I didn't have a friend in the world.
[THE BOY RUNS THROUGH THE FOREST, LEAPING OVER STUMPS AND ROCKS. HIS FACE IS FILLED WITH A FURY HE CANNOT EXPRESS SAVE THROUGH MOTION. SUDDENLY, HE TRIPS OVER A ROCK AND SPILLS HEADLONG, FALLING DOWN A SLOPE TO COME UP RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE END OF A HOLLOW, ROTTED LOG. HIS EYES WIDEN IN FEAR AS HE SEES WHAT'S INSIDE.]
NARRATOR: But that was before I met Little Bub.
[A BABY WOLVERINE CRAWLS OUT OF THE HOLLOW LOG, NUZZLING AGAINST THE BOY AS IF TO SAY, "FEED ME?"]
CAPTION: In a town without hope...
[THE BOY RUNNING AGAIN, ONLY THIS TIME WITH THE WOLVERINE AT HIS SIDE. IT'S NOTICEABLY LARGER, AND THE BOY LOOKS TO HAVE A WILD GRIN ON HIS FACE.]
CAPTION: Sometimes love...is where you make it.
[CUT TO THE MAN, TALKING TO A WOMAN WHO LOOKS WEARY AND CYNICAL, YET STILL HOT. CAN WE MAYBE GET SCARLETT JOHANSSONN, PUT HER IN A GRANDMA DRESS?]
MAN: I am just trying to help you.
WOMAN (OBVIOUSLY THE BOY'S MOTHER): Well, you can't. This isn't a place where things like that happen, so don't come asking! Because I don't!
[CUT TO THE BOY, BEING PUSHED AROUND BY BULLIES. SUDDENLY, THE WOLVERINE BITES ONE OF THEM COMICALLY ON THE BUTT.]
BULLY: YeeeeeOWWWW!
[CUT TO THE MOM, CLEARLY TERRIFIED AND FURIOUS.]
MOM: You stay away from that wolverine, you hear me, boy?!
BOY: But he's my only friend!
[CUT TO THE BOY RUNNING AGAIN, THIS TIME IN THE FOREST IN THE NIGHTTIME. HE'S NERVOUS NOW, BUT THE WOLVERINE IS RUNNING ALONGSIDE HIM.]
NARRATOR: I guess you could say I became a man, that summer.
[CUT TO BOY, KISSING A GIRL FOR THE FIRST TIME. THE WOLVERINE IS PLAYING AT THEIR FEET.]
NARRATOR: The summer I found...
TITLE CARD: THE WOLVERINE.
CAPTION: When you can't believe in anyone else...believe in your heart.
........admit it. This is what you all think of when you hear that title, isn't it?
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