Peter David's Blog, page 88

I've been invited to Lima, Peru

I received an email from the State Department yesterday that a July book fair in Lima, Peru, asked specifically for me as a guest to come out and talk about comic books and graphic novels. I figure it's either a great honor or else an incredibly elaborate practical joke or kidnapping plot.

I figure I'll go. When the State Department says a whole city asked for you to come out, I don't see how you say no.

PAD

Peter's Tweets from 2012-04-09

@Samuraigodzilla Taylor Kitsch vs. Taylor Kitsch? That's bizarre. in reply to Samuraigodzilla 07:58:57, 2012-04-09
@Haunt1013 "Bitches Leave." Sounds like the far less successful sequel to "Men Don't Leave." in reply to Haunt1013 13:55:30, 2012-04-09
@Rawnzilla I dunno what ebay YOU'RE looking on, but how does $18 grab you? http://t.co/XP6EI5F6 in reply to Rawnzilla 14:06:25, 2012-04-09
@Rawnzilla And if you don't want to take chances, this one is on buy it now for about $30. http://t.co/tH9RF22F in reply to Rawnzilla 14:09:00, 2012-04-09
@Rawnzilla Ah, I see. Yeah, and $299 is the lowest it's being offered. Sheesh. in reply to Rawnzilla 14:40:08, 2012-04-09
@JoshMalina Remember the days when "What's a Grecian urn?" was considered a joke? in reply to JoshMalina 14:45:27, 2012-04-09
It stands six feet tall and shouts in indignation when you hit it. I simply MUST get one. http://t.co/8mAscRil 16:41:43, 2012-04-09
@Haunt1013 And a pre-fame Amy Adams as "the cute girl." in reply to Haunt1013 16:42:42, 2012-04-09
@Rawnzilla Sorry I couldn't be of more help. Or any help, actually. in reply to Rawnzilla 16:43:10, 2012-04-09
@JoshMalina @dulehill Send them my way. in reply to JoshMalina 17:37:24, 2012-04-09
@Hoopertoon It does actually. in reply to Hoopertoon 17:46:16, 2012-04-09
@OnlyRad IMDB is your friend. Go look up The Three Stooges. in reply to OnlyRad 17:49:30, 2012-04-09
Bowling in my league. Made a bad shot, left the 6-8 split, but converted it. Yay me. 20:55:43, 2012-04-09
@CakeOSaurusRex I think everyone needs Layla Miller tights. in reply to CakeOSaurusRex 21:40:45, 2012-04-09
@OnlyRad It's opening shortly so I'm sure you would have noticed. in reply to OnlyRad 21:41:37, 2012-04-09
@dannimal That's actually pretty much what I looked like. in reply to dannimal 21:48:31, 2012-04-09
@spikespeigel All different brands. At the moment a Brunswick Twisted Fury. in reply to spikespeigel 22:09:49, 2012-04-09
Pray, Mets fans. I'm actually watching a game. 22:16:37, 2012-04-09
The Mets won while I was watching! It's anything can happen night. 22:30:55, 2012-04-09
@spikespeigel Haven't used Rotogrip though I do have some Storm. Shot an 800 series with Storm. Current average is 205. in reply to spikespeigel 22:38:44, 2012-04-09

Peter's Tweets from 2012-04-09

@Samuraigodzilla Taylor Kitsch vs. Taylor Kitsch? That's bizarre. in reply to Samuraigodzilla 07:58:57, 2012-04-09
@Haunt1013 "Bitches Leave." Sounds like the far less successful sequel to "Men Don't Leave." in reply to Haunt1013 13:55:30, 2012-04-09
@Rawnzilla I dunno what ebay YOU'RE looking on, but how does $18 grab you? http://t.co/XP6EI5F6 in reply to Rawnzilla 14:06:25, 2012-04-09
@Rawnzilla And if you don't want to take chances, this one is on buy it now for about $30. http://t.co/tH9RF22F in reply to Rawnzilla 14:09:00, 2012-04-09
@Rawnzilla Ah, I see. Yeah, and $299 is the lowest it's being offered. Sheesh. in reply to Rawnzilla 14:40:08, 2012-04-09
@JoshMalina Remember the days when "What's a Grecian urn?" was considered a joke? in reply to JoshMalina 14:45:27, 2012-04-09
It stands six feet tall and shouts in indignation when you hit it. I simply MUST get one. http://t.co/8mAscRil 16:41:43, 2012-04-09
@Haunt1013 And a pre-fame Amy Adams as "the cute girl." in reply to Haunt1013 16:42:42, 2012-04-09
@Rawnzilla Sorry I couldn't be of more help. Or any help, actually. in reply to Rawnzilla 16:43:10, 2012-04-09
@JoshMalina @dulehill Send them my way. in reply to JoshMalina 17:37:24, 2012-04-09
@Hoopertoon It does actually. in reply to Hoopertoon 17:46:16, 2012-04-09
@OnlyRad IMDB is your friend. Go look up The Three Stooges. in reply to OnlyRad 17:49:30, 2012-04-09
Bowling in my league. Made a bad shot, left the 6-8 split, but converted it. Yay me. 20:55:43, 2012-04-09
@CakeOSaurusRex I think everyone needs Layla Miller tights. in reply to CakeOSaurusRex 21:40:45, 2012-04-09
@OnlyRad It's opening shortly so I'm sure you would have noticed. in reply to OnlyRad 21:41:37, 2012-04-09
@dannimal That's actually pretty much what I looked like. in reply to dannimal 21:48:31, 2012-04-09
@spikespeigel All different brands. At the moment a Brunswick Twisted Fury. in reply to spikespeigel 22:09:49, 2012-04-09
Pray, Mets fans. I'm actually watching a game. 22:16:37, 2012-04-09
The Mets won while I was watching! It's anything can happen night. 22:30:55, 2012-04-09
@spikespeigel Haven't used Rotogrip though I do have some Storm. Shot an 800 series with Storm. Current average is 205. in reply to spikespeigel 22:38:44, 2012-04-09

Peter's Tweets from 2012-04-08

@thejillthompson Only if when you unwrap the gold it's chocolate inside. in reply to thejillthompson 07:36:10, 2012-04-08
@Saismaat @amazon Funny he should ask… in reply to Saismaat 07:37:21, 2012-04-08
@KenFromChicago @Havraha I wanted to have that book end with Riker proposing to Troi. Paramount nixed it, saying they'd never marry. in reply to KenFromChicago 07:38:15, 2012-04-08
Watching GODSPELL They do "It's All For the Best" atop the World Trade Center making it in hindsight the saddest song in film history. 08:09:42, 2012-04-08
@KenFromChicago @Havraha It's happened several times, believe me. in reply to KenFromChicago 10:52:10, 2012-04-08
@KurtBusiek Shockingly, the Mets are 3-0. I take personal credit for this since I've yet to watch a game. I was thinking of watching Monday. in reply to KurtBusiek 18:55:12, 2012-04-08
JOHN CARTER perfect Easter movie. Long-haired JC dead in cave, is resurrected and eventually returns to heavens. 18:56:21, 2012-04-08
@Haunt1013 My dream is that in the end, Tyrion is the king and Jon Snow is his hand. in reply to Haunt1013 22:01:01, 2012-04-08
@JoeBenincase Yeah, saw that a few weeks ago. in reply to JoeBenincase 22:26:00, 2012-04-08
@Haunt1013 I also want to see a production of Romeo & Juliet with Peter Dinklage as Mercutio, but that's probably just me. in reply to Haunt1013 22:27:16, 2012-04-08
@Rawnzilla What am I looking at there? A statue? An action figure? in reply to Rawnzilla 22:28:54, 2012-04-08
@thejillthompson Makes as much sense as anything else. in reply to thejillthompson 22:29:16, 2012-04-08
@Haunt1013 Robocop fan, huh. Same here. in reply to Haunt1013 22:30:15, 2012-04-08

America Offline

Originally published January 31, 1997, in Comics Buyer's Guide #1211

Assorted thoughts…

* * *

My experience on America Online has been less than sterling thus far.

The first time I tried AOL was several years ago. I came on for a live conference. I was on line for about thirty seconds when I was immediately hailed by someone using a fake name. "Are you Peter David the writer?" he asked (one of the hazards of signing on with my own name rather than a nom-de-byte).

I wrote back, "Yes."

Which garnered the quick response of, "Your writing suuuuuuuucks."

Oddly, I didn't feel any compulsion to try my hand at it again until fairly recently. I had just traded in my ancient computer for a new model—a computer which came equipped with this brand new thing I've heard everybody raving about called "Windows." All the rage among the teenagers, I'm told.

By coincidence, I was asked by a DC rep if I wouldn't mind coming on AOL for another life conference. When I said okay, but made clear that I wasn't on AOL, I was sent a disk.

I installed it.

The program wouldn't talk to my modem.

I ran through all the "Help" options. It still wouldn't talk to my modem.

I tried calling the 800 "Help" number. I got a recording telling me the department I needed was busy and I should try back another time.

I tried again to connect to the modem. The program laughed at me.

I got a new modem (I was looking for an excuse anyway).

I installed the modem and reinstalled the AOL software I'd been sent by DC.

It informed me there was no access number in all of New York state through which I could connect to AOL. This, obviously, didn't sound right.

The modem came with an AOL disk. The DC version was 2.0. The modem version was 2.5. Obviously that meant the new one was 25% better. So I installed the new one.

It tried to connect to the 800 number which would provide me with a list of access numbers. Busy. It automatically called the back-up number. Busy.

Took half a dozen tries, but it finally connected to the 800 number, and I finally got a list of access numbers. I selected two which were reasonably nearby.

The program dialed the first one. Busy. Dialed the second. Busy.

A dozen futile tries. Twenty-four calls in all to two numbers. Busy.

The program recommended I try reaccessing the 800 numbers. I did so. Busy. Busy again.

A dozen futile tries. Twenty-four calls in all to two numbers. Busy.

There was a customer service number on the cardboard sleeve. I called and got an automatic answering sequence which referred me to the department in charge of access numbers—which was busy. A recording told me to try my call later.

I looked at the cardboard sleeve which asked "Are you ready for…" and it listed all sorts of services AOL offers. Intuitive interface, graphics, magazines, news, chat. And it concluded, "If you're ready for all that, then you're ready for America Online!"

Oddly enough, nowhere did it ask, "Are you ready to waste hours trying to connect?"

Because somehow I think the answer would be no, and perhaps AOL would cease to be America's fastest growing computer service. Which might not be a bad thing, because then maybe I could get onto the bloody thing.

* * *

Superman's new costume. Three words: Needs ice skates.

* * *

"How do you feel about how women are drawn in comics?" the young woman at the Space City convention in Houston asked me. "Are you offended?"

Naturally, what she was referring to are the insanely endowed women who bump and grind their way through various curious titles.

"Not especially," I said. "Are you?"

"Well," she said good-naturedly, looking down at her own modest endowments, "it just makes the rest of us feel so inferior."

I've given some thought to this matter (certainly as much serious thought as the matter warrants) and have come to the conclusion that women have no reason whatsoever to feel inferior when it comes to the way their gender is depicted in comics.

Women's breasts are something I touched on—let's rephrase that—this is a subject that I briefly addressed some time ago when Catwoman's breasts became a cause celebre in the pages of Oh So? After causing some titters, the topic was nipped in the bud.

However, I was so busy making snarky remarks (not unlike those above) that I never really addressed the concept of being offended by said female-esque globes. The fact is that the human form is routinely exaggerated in the pages of comics. Superheroes are idealized versions of the human body, blown up to heroic proportions. The renderings of men are no more accurate than the renderings of women. Men in comics are oftentimes given bloated, exaggerated muscles. Now these sometimes prompt complaints from male fans. But usually they're complaints that grow from simple aesthetics, because they are muscles so huge, so unwieldy, that the characters would be incapable of raising their arms over their heads (thereby rendering the concept of surrender moot, which is okay, I guess) or bending over and tying their shoes (hence the tendency towards boots). Such obvious ludicrousness invites insulting remarks, but they're not gender-based. Just bad-art based.

Society, by and large, does not consider huge muscles particularly pleasing on women. So the superheroine can't be depicted with humongous musculature because that wouldn't qualify as the "idealized" form.

But if a superheroine is drawn in normal proportions, she will look unimpressive and wimpy next to her male peers. What, therefore, is the artist going to exaggerate in order for the superheroine to have parity? The curves and the bosom, of course.

I'll grant you, sometimes it can be disconcerting—particularly when one compares the standard exaggeration-oriented artist to those few pencilers who actually stick more with reality. For instance, we changed artists on The Incredible Hulk midway through issue #425. We went from the reality-based Gary Frank to the exaggeration-oriented Liam Sharp. Consequently, Betty Banner went from realistically and modestly endowed to pneumatically enhanced, smack in the middle of the issue. (To say nothing of the Hulk suddenly acquiring so many pronounced veins on his arms that he looked like he'd been shooting up with tungsten.)

Do women have cause to be offended? They can be if they want to, sure, but if you ask me (and since I was asked, I actually have an excuse to say), women can't reasonably act as if they're being singled out for insulting depiction. Males are as well, and to my mind, it's even more insulting than the indignities heaped upon women.

Comic book females, after all, are depicted as being massively endowed north of the equator. It may be juvenile, it may be silly, it may even be intimidating. But at least it's there. The sexuality of superheroines is an extremely important factor due to the attention drawn to the erotic area of the bosom. Consider, if you will, the words of Jerry Seinfeld who, when asked if he was a leg man, responded, "Of course not! I'm a breast man! Why would I be a leg man? I've got legs!"

But consider, if you will, the plight of the male hero: the superhero who wears a leotard or thong that is no less tight, no less revealing than that of his female counterparts. But, whereas the tightness or skimpiness in female costumes accentuates womanly endowments, similar male costuming only draws attention to what's missing.

In other words, those costumes are awfully tight in the crotch. However, for the most part there seems to be no indication whatsoever that there's anything at all down there. Superheroines have hyper-accentuated sexuality while the superheroes, in turn, are hyper-diminished.

Superheroines, after all, still have some sort of recognizable sexuality: ludicrous, to be sure, but recognizable.

But the men have all been neutered. Either that or they've got endowments on par with the Atom.

I, personally, am offended.

* * *

I should make clear that, when I was discussing hostile and friendly aliens as depicted in televised science fiction, I was pretty much sticking to one-hour dramas and feature films. It has been pointed out to me that aliens come across as friendlier in the half-hour format. Uncle Martin was, in fact, the first friendly TV alien, predating Mr. Spock by several years. For that matter, later years gave us Mork from Ork, Alf, and the Solomon family.

There's a conclusion to be drawn from that, but damned if I know what it is.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to a Second Age Inc., P.O. Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705. Now, the following AOL update: Six more tries finally got him through to the 800 number, from which he got five more AOL access numbers. He dialed them all. Every single one was busy.)

 

The Marvelcrumb Tinies

Originally published January 24, 1997, in Comics Buyer's Guide #1210

I've decided that, rather than react to recent Marvel news with another straightforward commentary, it might be better to try to encapsulate the last year or so of Marvel's crumbling existence in a friendly, easy-to-understand fashion.

So it is, with profuse apologies to Edward Gorey (and thanks to Richard Howell for the accompanying art), that But I Digress presents:

THE MARVELCRUMB TINIES

by Peter David

A is for Amazing Spider-Man Clones.

B is for Bankrupt (it beats paying loans).

C is for Carl, the Icahn Ron fears.

D is for Debt, with accounts in arrears.

E is for Employees, cut by a third.

F is for F***ed (well, we can't print that word).

G is for Gruenwald, who's terribly missed.

H is for Holders of Bonds, who've been dissed.

I is for Ideas, the House of, in foreclosure.

J is for Jim Lee with "Reborn" exposure.

K is for Killing direct-market pride

L is for Liefeld, whom fans crucified.

M is for McFarlane, Rob's former beau.

N is for Net Worth, now sinking way low.

O is for Office with dwindling worth.

P is for Perelman, who's leaving scorched earth.

Q is for Questionable ways Ron makes loot.

R is for Retailers gone down the chute.

S is for Stocks, with the bottom all gone.

T is for Toy Biz in clutches of Ron.

U is for Usenet, with fans speculating.

V is for "Vulture Investors" left waiting.

W is for Warners, a possible buyer.

X is for X-Men, and, also, X-pire.

Y is for the Year that kept rumors all humming.

Z is for Zero, the Hour that's coming.

I Have Formulated a Bowling Paradox

The moment when I release a bowling ball, with a full rack of pins at the other end, there are many variations as to what could happen. However, particularly in a close game–where simply getting a spare isn't going to get it done–it really comes down to only two possibilities:

Either the ball will strike. Or the ball will not strike.

But it occurs to me that, at the moment of release, the ball has both struck and not struck. Both possibilities exist simultaneously.

I call it Schrodinger's Balls.

PAD

BID Mailbag: Star Trek: First Contact and ID4

Originally published January 17, 1997, in Comics Buyer's Guide #1209

Cracking open the But I Digress mail bag, let's do strictly science fiction this time out with commentary on two of the biggest invasion movies of the year: Independence Day and Star Trek: First Contact.

First up are musings from Tom C. of Columbus, Ohio, who writes:

Just a little thought provides an excellent reason for the Borg not traveling through time to assimilate all cultures at a time when they are technologically incapable of fighting back effectively.

The Borg are not simply interested in assimilating cultures.

It is also a high priority to assimilate new technology. Free thinking being a major component in developing new technologies, then it can be assumed that a Borgified culture is at a technological dead-end. Such a culture can advance to the levels of Borg technology but never beyond.

This would explain why the Borg need to assimilate new technology. They are unable to develop any of their own.

If the Borg traveled through time to assimilate new cultures, they would effectively halt the development of the very technology they wish to assimilate. To use Earth as an example, if the Borg had successfully assimilated the human population in the past, then Earth would never have developed transporters, replicators, photon torpedoes, tricorders, androids, and the list goes on—and none of that technology could be assimilated. (Yes, the Borg already have some of that technology—transporters, for instance—but I trust you get my point.)

At that point the question is why the Borg would go back in time and risk destroying the very technology that they want. We can only assume they believe that the advantage of wiping out the human obstacle to assimilating Alpha Quadrant technology is greater than any advantage from assimilating human technology. After all, that still allows them to assimilate Vulcan, Klingon, Romulan, Cardassian, Bajoran, and all other non-human technologies from the Alpha Quadrant.

You are, however, completely correct about the single Borg ship dilemma. Unless we assume they have only one battleship.

I did, however, come up with a conundrum that bothered me in the movie even though it never bugged me in the TV show (but should have).

Admittedly, there would seem to be no such thing as lawsuits in the Trek universe; still, it seems to me that given the potential for accidents—some fatal—why would you build a holodeck in which the safeties could be turned off? Remember the episode "A Fistful of Datas"? The entire problem could have been avoided if the holodeck safeties had simply been welded into place (or whatever) with no way to turn them off—ever!

Yes, I know Worf needs to turn off the safeties when doing his Klingon battle exercises (as everyone has reminded me when I mention this), but I hardly think the holodeck builders had Klingon battle training in mind when they designed the systems. Similarly, I can't believe they anticipated that Picard would someday need to take out some Borgs. So why not make the safety feature unalterable?

For that matter, someone else pointed out that, if machine guns can effectively kill the Borg, then why do Picard and crew continue to battle the Borg with energy weapons? Worf even comments that they weapons will have to be recalibrated and that the Borg would adapt quickly. So why not just ask the replicators to provide some tommy guns? (Hey, if Picard can override the safeties on the holodeck, he can certainly override the safeties on the replicators.)

Any thoughts on these matters? Along these lines, have you read the several Nitpicker's Guides to Trek by Phil Farrand? The three books (with a Deep Space Nine guide coming soon) are filled with little inconsistencies like these. I bet you would like them a lot.

P.S. Not to compare the radical right to Borg assimilation (but if the shoe fits…), but this is yet another reason to support the CBLDF and our right to free speech and free thought. Being unable to even consider unconventional thoughts and radical ideas—such as that the Earth is round or that the Earth orbits the sun—does tend to eliminate scientific advancement.

You raise some fairly valid points, Tom, although we do have to make up our minds on this point. If their primary interest is technology, then I can see their not attacking earth too early in the time stream. If on the other hand they've decided that humans simply aren't worth hassling with, then why wait until Earth is on the cusp of its golden space age? Why not pop back a century earlier, before Earth could mount any sort of defense at all? Still, your explanation goes a long way towards explaining why the Borg ever bother to face anyone on equal terms.

As for the safeties being capable of being shut off, it strikes me that this is one of those show-necessity reasons for which there is not a logical real-world explanation. If they wanted to do stories set in the holodeck in which there's tangible at stake (like lives, for example) then the holodeck has to be capable of doing genuine damage. On the other hand, it defies reason that people would go into the holodeck, into a life-and-death situation, as a mere means of entertainment. It's one thing to risk death when your method of entertainment is—oh, I dunno—skydiving, let's say. There the danger comes within specific parameters (if your chute doesn't hope, you're a pancake.) But a holodeck scenario—particularly detective stuff like Dixon Hill—has so many variables that it's impossible to participate safely.

So the Trek creators try to have it both ways. Yes, the holodeck is perfectly safe—except when the participant wants it to be potentially lethal. And, to be blunt, if I were Starfleet, I'd be carefully monitoring those in the crew who deliberately ask for the safeties to be taken out. It's like deciding to go for a leisurely drive, but first you have the seat belts and air bags removed so that you're facing genuine risk if an accident should occur. This doesn't strike me as the sanest and most reasonable of attitudes for Starfleet personnel to have.

And next we've got Paul G., who came up with "Some More Things Independence Day Taught Me":

1) It's always a wise tactical move to shoot down a fifteen-mile wide, multi-million ton spacecraft when it's hovering directly over the place you're defending.

2) It's perfectly safe to stand out in the open and watch huge chunks of debris rain down from high altitudes and/or orbit.

3) Conventional air-to-air rockets will cause great damage to a fifteen-mild-wide space craft with a fifty meter thick hull.

4) Dogs are fire proof.

5) Aliens capable of interstellar travel and armed with death rays will neglect to develop circuit breakers.

6) Aliens have yet to install firefighting equipment aboard their space craft.

7) They aren't too keen on damage control either.

8 ) The Grand Canyon is located in California.

9) Always send several scarce, expensive stealth bombers to launch one nuclear missile, rather than a bunch of them at once.

10) Coca-Cola representatives will have no problem servicing machines located in top secret government installations during alien attacks.

11) When fleeing major port cities, ignore all waterways and drive.

12) When the human race is getting its butt kicked by alien invaders, send in the cable guy (who should arrive sometime between 8 and 5.)

13) He will arrive on time (on a holiday yet!)

14) Even aliens will ignore Euro-Disney.

15) Brent Spiner makes a lousy speaker phone.

16) Aliens don't like having helicopters flash their high beams in their eyes (some things are universal.)

17) It's all right to give fireworks to three year olds.

18) Aliens wearing bio-mechanical battle armor are too weak to break through plate glass that can be shattered with pistol fire.

19) Marines can sniff out their girlfriends amidst several hundred square miles of shouldering rubble (no surprise there!)

20) Never assume that newly arrived aliens are familiar with communication methods from Close Encounters.

21) Aliens smash cities because they like being mean.

22) Species whose idea of adequate reconnaissance methods is to give rectal probes to rednecks can be beaten in several days.

23) Fifty-year-late alien recon ships are routine.

24) New York's never looked better.

25) RVs are always a priority military target.

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to a Second Age Inc., P.O. Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)

I-Con and Young Justice

Two things happening involving me this weekend.

1) My second episode of the first season of "Young Justice," titled, "Insecurity," airs this Saturday morning on Cartoon Network. So be sure to give that a look at 10:30 AM Eastern.

2) I'll be attending I-Con this weekend at Stony Brook University. I won't be around Friday, but I'll be wandering around Saturday and Sunday (I don't have any table I'm signing at, so it'll be a case of catch as catch can.) I will NOT be on the Saturday panel about the DC 52 because I saw that as a no-win scenario. As far as writing comics goes, I work for Marvel: if I say it's successful, I come across as promoting DC work; if I criticize it, I'm a Marvel guy slagging the other company. Didn't see much point to that. I will, however, be on the panel on Sunday about writing for shared universes.

PAD

Movie review: Mars Attacks

Originally published January 10, 1997, in Comics Buyer's Guide #1208

When I was a kid, there were cards that my parents wouldn't let me get because my father, in particular, had a real thing about not wanting ghastly or hideous images in the house. And cards where demented big-brained, skull-faced creatures are incinerating everything in sight certainly qualified. Essentially I wound up collecting Batman cards, instead, but I would always look on in envy at kids in the schoolyard, surreptitiously flipping through that subversive celebration of the grotesque called Mars Attacks.

But now we're into the 1990s, and it's difficult to find anything so subversive that it cannot somehow be made into something appropriate for all ages. (I mean, hell, if they could make an animated series out of Highlander, they can pretty much do anything.)

There was some concern months back that Mars Attacks, the film, was pretty much going to have its thunder stolen by Independence Day. Wouldn't the movie-going public think that anything having to do with alien invasion would have a feeling of "been there, done that" after the pile-it-on excess of ID4?

Not really. Because, although both films are nominally about alien invasion, their origins could not have been more dissimilar. ID4 has its roots (from visual style to characterization to plot development) in every other science fiction film from the past 30 years. That's why ID4 has such a comfortably familiar feel to it.

Mars Attacks, on the other hand, comes from the cards set. Whereas ID4 is based on old stories, Mars Attacks comes from old images. This makes it ideal for visual stylist Tim Burton, since telling a coherent (or even interesting) story has never been Burton's forte. Burton's pictures have always been far more about style than substance, chockablock with characters who are flat and cartoony and never aspire to be anything more than that.

This basically means that Mars Attacks' greatest strength is also its greatest weakness. All the visuals are there, but the moment the story wanders away from the visuals, then there is no story aside from destruction.

This isn't to say that destruction isn't carried off in spectacular fashion. ID4 focused mostly on obliteration of real estate. Sure, people died too—by the carload—but it was all as a result of ships from overhead, piloted by mostly unseen aliens (until later in the film), blasting away with super-powerful death rays. It had an almost impersonal feel about it.

But the Martians are a different story altogether. The Martians are up close and personal. They blast away at close range with ray guns, gleefully incinerating 99% of their victims and performing bizarre experiments on the rest. Actually, "bizarre" may be an understatement. A scene involving a budding romance between a dippy talk show host (Sarah Jessica Parker) and a stuffy, pipe-smoking scientist (Pierce Brosnan), neither of them with a head in the generally accepted location, has got to be the most surreal sequence I've ever seen in a Tim Burton film. Possible in any film.

Annoyed that the ID4 aliens claiming that they wanted our resources was unbelievable? Worry not. No discernable reason is ever given for the Martians coming after Earth, and, in a way, that's almost easier to buy. If we had to make any guesses as to motivation, it would seem to be for the same reason that George Leigh Mallory gave when asked why he wanted to scale Mount Everest: "Because it is there."

If anything, they seem to be destroying everything in sight just for kicks. They chortle with demented glee over their atrocities. They pose, like extraterrestrial tourists, in front of mighty landmarks before incinerating them. They mow down city blocks while declaring, "Do not run. We are your friends"—certainly the most disconcerting public warning since Soviet soldiers wandered a small New England town calling, "Emerchency. Effrybody to get from street," in The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming!

The Martians giggle, they frolic, they are joyously sure of themselves, they rearrange Mt. Rushmore, they sing backup for Tom Jones (don't ask). They attack because, well, Mars attacks. It says so right in the title of the film. If they did anything else, Warner Bros. could be accused of false advertising.

The film carries with it the mentality of an Irwin Allen disaster film—you know, one of those movies where there are all kinds of big stars, most of whom die in spectacular fashion. One of the perverse allures in seeing such a film is wondering who's going to survive. I assure you that, no matter how cynical and seen-it-all you are, sooner or later there will come some point in the movie when you'll say, "Wow! I didn't think (fill in the blank) was gonna buy it."

The problems inherent in this film are the same problems, unfortunately, inherent in almost everything Tim Burton directs. The story doesn't so much flow as it just kind of happens. Indeed, Jonathan Gems' script seems to suffer from pieces missing, either in terms of exposition or in plot threads not followed through. The film's opening sequence involves a stampeding herd of cattle, running while ablaze. The ostensible reason is that the Martians want to rid the world of its beef supply. But the explanation is never given in the film. And why would they want to do this when they're just planning to incinerate humanity, anyway? Who knows? The aliens have an aversion to birds. That's shown early on and is a recurring scenario. The audience figures that it's going to tie into the end somehow. But there's never any payoff. Why do birds upset them? Again, who knows? Perhaps Gems knows, but he didn't say. Perhaps Burton knows, but he didn't care.

As a result, we don't care all that much either. With the sole exception of Jim Brown's behemoth of a former boxer, none of the characters are particularly engaging or involving. (Although Jack Nicholson and Glenn Close as the clueless president and his somewhat more savvy first lady are standouts). When someone is incinerated, we don't find ourselves saying, "Oh no! That character is dead?" Instead, we say, "So much for (fill in the star's name)." The characters are there merely to bridge time between the set pieces of Martians creating havoc.

Is it worth seeing? Yeah. I guess. It's fun to watch big-name actors run around like headless chickens (almost literally in some instances). The computer-animated Martians are a hoot. Watching Tim Burton's main squeeze, Lisa Marie, glide through the movie as a Martian spy (complete with beehive hairdo to hide her gigantic brain) is alone nearly worth the price of admission. And the manner in which the Martians are beaten, well—at least it's not a virus. It's a bit like the climax of Close Encounters, if that film had involved hostile aliens and the writers had dropped some serious acid just before beginning it.

What I find interesting, though, is that how we perceive aliens has reflected the changes in America.

Think about it. The 1950s brought audiences Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) and It Came from Outer Space (1953), which aliens were evil and invasive. Sometimes (as in Body Snatchers) critics saw them as a metaphor for Communists who looked just like us but were insidiously trying to take our country away from us. The only aliens who were at all friendly were Superman and, in Visit to a Small Planet, Jerry Lewis.

But the 1960s provided a time of self-examination, of change. Not coincidentally, one of the foremost friendly aliens first showed up around that time on TV (with pointy ears and slanted eyebrows, which scared the bejesus out of the networks, who worried that religious Americans would be offended by the weekly appearances of a Satanic individual). But Gene Roddenberry managed to steamroll his concept through, and Mr. Spock—a future icon, not to mention icon of the future—paved the way for friendly alien-Terran relations. Long before "Can't we all just get along?" entered common parlance, the starship Enterprise answered that question with a resounding "Yes."

Other friendly aliens followed. Spock (1966) made aliens cool. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) made them symphonic. E.T. (1982) made them solemn, wise, lovable, and—what was most important—plush and, therefore, highly marketable. Starman (1984) kind of combined all of that and gave us a priceless view of alien terrestrial driving technique ("You said you watched me drive! You said you knew the rules!" "I do know the rules. I watched very carefully. Red, stop. Green, go. Yellow, go very fast.") Star Wars (1977) was crawling with them in all sizes and shapes, both good and bad, although you could for the most part tell the good guys because they were short (Yoda), furry (Wookiees), or short and furry (Ewoks).

But an air of greed had permeated the atmosphere. "Greed is good," intoned Gordon Gekko in Wall Street (1987). Those who had were more intent than ever on keeping what they had, and the message to anyone who was trying to take it away was "hands off." The outsider was not welcome: that "alien" represented from abroad by foreign interests or from within society by the poor, needy, and welfare-dependent or even from within ourselves by AIDS, the diseased that transformed love into death. That which had been mere silliness in the 1960s became the watchword of the 1980s and, for that matter, the 1990s. And that watchword was "Watch your back."

As a result, aliens in the movies began to change. The tail end of the '70s saw, appropriately, a remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978), ushering in a time when enemies, unseen and frightening, walked among us once more. Blade Runner (1982), based on Philip K. Dick's 1968 work Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, gave us, not aliens, but androids so humanoid that they could walk among us. Fun robots such as C-3PO had been replaced by replicants, the inhuman menace we had brought among ourselves. An extraterrestrial as represented by E.T. gave way to the monstrous Alien in the 1979 Ridley Scott film and to the horde of Aliens and Predator(s) that followed.

"I'll be riiiight here," murmured in a gravelly-yet-childlike voice, was replaced by Roddy Piper in They Live (1988) declaring war on unseen invaders by saying, "I'm here to kick ass and chew gum, and I'm all out of gum," or Will Smith announcing, "Just looking forward to kicking E.T.'s butt, sir." To say nothing of The X-Files, where aliens are involved in some dark, frightening conspiracy that could very well reach into the innermost regions of the government.

Only Star Trek remained tough to categorize. Just as TOS ushered in the friendly aliens in the 1960s, Star Trek: The Next Generation maintained the benevolent United Federation of Planets as a backdrop of alien cooperation. Indeed, the series and characters therein became even more peaceful, as even the once hostile Klingons became allies and the crew members never argued among themselves—which occasionally made Trek seem stodgy and dull in comparison to what else was out there. Where once Star Trek was mainstream dramatic science fiction, somewhere along the way it morphed into an entity unto itself. Star Trek was judged, not against other dramatic science fiction, but against other Star Trek and so took itself out of the running in terms of shaping science fiction viewing habits.

So where does that leave us? ID4 and Mars Attacks take joy—almost demented joy—in depicting alien foreign relations as a firestorm of violence. Perhaps as Americans become more insular, more cocky, more sure that we've learned everything we need to know, the thought of encountering alien life forms is no longer regarded as a potential learning experience. It's no longer "What can we learn from them?" It's "What do they want from us?"

Ironic, really. Two phrases of three words each embody what's happened to dramatic science fiction in the past 20 years.

Think about it: We've gone from "Trust the Force" to "Trust no one."

(Peter David, writer of stuff, can be written to at Second Age, Inc., P.O. Box 239, Bayport, NY 11705.)