Matthew S. Williams's Blog, page 171

Star Wars: The Old Republic trailer

As far as the gaming world is concerned, this trailer is old news! But, it’s news to me, and I thought it was pretty darned cool. Not sure how I missed it, since during 2010 I felt I was pretty up on all the news surrounding SWTOR, the third installment in the Knights Of The Old Republic  (or KOTOR, for short) video-game series. Guess not. And of course, when fan reviews began to pour in saying that the game was not all it was cracked up to be, I kind of lost interest.

However, news is beginning to circulate that the KOTOR franchise might actually be the basis for the next Star Wars trilogy. I kid you not, not only is LucasArts deep into deals with Disney to produce the next three installments, there’s also a great deal of speculation as to whether or not they will be sequels or further prequels. But more on that soon enough. Right now, enjoy this video. It’s like Star Wars meets 300 with some Matrix for good measure!

Endeavour’s Final Mission Caught on Video

Several weeks ago, the shuttle Endeavour returned to Earth after performing its 25th and final mission. It was then treated a hero’s tour as it was driven about LA before being brought to its final resting place in the California Science Center. However, before any of that happened, Endeavour got a hero’s send off as it was flown all over California on the back of a 747 with two Air Force F/A-18′s flying escort.

And wouldn’t you know it, one of those pilots took some grand aerial footage of the whole event. The 15-minute segment is about as close as anyone can get to actually being there, complete with radio communications going back and forth. And in what many people are sure to appreciate, there is no soundtrack or narration to take away from the authenticity. Word of warning though, the video is long, so be sure your schedule is clear for the next 15-20 minutes before hitting play. Enjoy!

Whiskey Delta – Chapter 45

“When you have secured the area, make sure the enemy knows it too.”

-Anonymous

There was a discernible pause on the other end of the line. Saunders knew she mist have heard right, otherwise she would have heard back by now. Her reply certainly indicated just how confidence she had in this plan.

“Alpha team, this is Big Bird. Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

She looked over at Mill, who was nodding towards the main terminal. Their explosions had taken care of their immediate problem, but had also woken up the neighbors. As expected, Whiskeys were now converging on their position. He looked in multiple directions with his scope and confirmed that just about every approach was littered with walking corpses.

“No choice,” Saunders replied. “In no time at all, this location is not going to be secure. It has to be a mobile pickup, and it has to be now.”

She was sure the Colonel was cursing on her end. The delay was just long enough to get out a few good expletives. Still, she complied.

“Standby. We’re en route but are still ten mikes away. Touch down will be on the south end, so maintain your position.”

Saunders let go the comm and took a deep breath. Holding their position meant fighting off anyone who made it to them before the Herc touched down, which put the pressure on just a little. Whiskeys were most dangerous when they built up momentum, when a target sat still long enough for them to get a running start at it.

But alas, no choice. She grabbed her rifle and chambered a round.

“Alright, everyone who can raise a weapon, do so now. We got incoming from all directions and we need to hold em off long enough for the Colonel to land our evac plane. Sanchez, Beaumont!” the Private and his dubious looking Sergeant book looked up from the rear of the bed. “Get on that SCAR and that M4. Shoot from the bed and cover our wounded.”

Sanchez nodded and took hold of the SCAR while Beaumont stuck with his M4. He inspect the weapon and began to look even more ambivalent. He slid his way from the ebd and began to approach her. Unfortunately, she still had to her squad to deal with and made him wait until she was done issuing orders to them.

“We’ve got a few advantages here. The northern approach is open so we’ll have good sight lines. The southern way is blocked up by the hangars, but they’ll have to sneak through the alleyways to find us.” She eyed the narrow spots between the nearest bays and gauged them to wide enough to admit more than a few bodies, provided they moved single-file. “How many more Claymores do we have?”

Mill checked his satchel and that of Kobayashi and Whitman. “Just the four, it seems.”

“Good, we’ll mine those alleyways with what we have left. That far side next to the parkade, we’ll have to cover, and let’s hope they dnt’ figure out they can just wander around too quickly. In the meantime, Kobayashi and I will take them at long range. Mill and Whitman, you’ll cover us with the SAW and your SCAR if and when they get within one hundred meters. If they manage to get around us, we’ll just form a circle and shoot anything that get’s too close.”

“Ma’am?” said Beaumont, not to be ignored any longer. “What about ammo?”

Saunders looked to her pouches and realized the crux of the Sergeant’s problem. They had enough magazines between them to keep every SCAR in the squad shooting until the Herc came, but his M4 only had the one magazine from the looks of it.

“Shit. I don’t anyone else managed to grab any more before the Stryker went up did you?”

Mill and Kobayashi both shook their heads. “Okay then,” she said, getting to the one thing she was hoping to avoid. “I guess that means we’re using the LT’s and Sarge’s weapons.”

“Oh man,” said Whitman. “Dibs on Sarge’s! I want that fucking grenade wauncher when those cockshuckers come!”

Saunders groaned. Whitman’s speech was improving, much to her chagrin. They could expect plenty more out of him before they got free, it seemed. “Fine, whatever. Beaumont, that leaves you on the LT’s. Check his suit for M203′s too. If they get to within fifty meters, those will come in handy.”

Beaumont dropped his head and examined his boots. “Ma’am, if it’s all the same, I’ll stick with the M4.”

She looked up at him suddenly. “I beg your pardon?”

He sucked in a deep breath, looked up briefly to catch her in the eye. “I think the LT would want you to have it. Besides, I figure me and Sanchez should conserve our ammo until any of those monsters get within spitting distance of the truck.”

Saunders considered that and nodded. Mill agreed. “Doesn’t hurt to have a last line of defense, ma’am. As your NCO, I concur.”

“Alright,” she said with a smile. “I’m leaving our wounded and your dead in your capable hands Sergeant. See you on the plane.”

Beaumont snapped his heels together and gave her a salute. Quickly, he had gone from being in a fugue state to being once again eager to prove himself. She had to believe this was a good thing, even flattering somewhat. Whereas before he was eager to please the LT, now he was hoping to garner her faith in him, even seemed to be suggesting she was fit to fill the LT’s shoes.

Just until he gets back into them, she reminded herself.

“Alright. Whitman, as the scrawniest and fastest amongst us, you’ve drawn the short straw. Collect Claymores and begin deploying them between those hangars.”

Whitman moaned but kept his mouth shut for once. Mill and Kobayashi began handing their compliments to him while she returned to the truck. Sanchez was waiting there with two weapons which he handed over readily. She recognized which was which from the way they had personalized them.

Coyote, one said in black pain on the side. That was Dezba’s. She hoped Whitman enjoyed playing with it and didn’t accidentally blow himself up in the process. The LT’s, that one had the Rattlesnakes insignia slapped on the side of the butt. She felt a curious sense of significance as she took it in hand, knowing it was now hers to fire. It was almost as if the honor of commanding these grunts, as they made their final stand here, had finally passed to her.

Up until now, there simply hadn’t been time to think of it, at least not in terms of anything other than a terrible twist of fate. The look on Beaumont and Sanchez’s faces, which told her they weren’t so afraid, made her think that she was alone in thinking that. She had assumed they must hate her for getting their man killed. But perhaps she was alone in thinking that too.

“You okay, ma’am,” Sanchez asked when he noticed how she was lingering. She snapped to and considered the question, and answered honestly.

“Yeah, I think I am. And I think we’re going to be okay for awhile yet.”

Sanchez looked at her sideways. Perhaps her words sounded a bit odd, but it didn’t matter. Before this was over, she was determined to make them true.

*                         *                         *

Whitman was back at the vehicle just in time to get a reaming.

“Took your sweet ol’ time in there Private!” she said, tossing him Dezba’s weapon. He looked at it reverentially and slid open the launcher, stocking it with a grenade. The face he made when he slid it shut made her feel especially creepy.

Boy and their toys.

Kobayashi, for his part, looked perfectly focused and at ease. But then again, he always looked that way, especially before a fight. She had come to see it as his “nervous face”. If she were to have looked down and seen something else plastered on his face, she would have been worried.

Mill was ready, his SAW poised and placed on their hood for support. In a pinch, he was ready to swing it around and provide cover for their western flank, should the Whiskey’s find the open parkade before they were safely away. To her rear, even Beaumont and Sanchez seemed ready, their eyes peeled for trouble and their weapons at the ready.

That just left her, breathing slowly and watching the approaching line of Whiskeys advancing from across the field. They were well over one hundred meters now, and thick enough that she believed she could take down more than one with a single shot. But they need to wait just a few seconds more. Killing them at this distance was more than possible, but they needed the damage to count. Once they closed in and tightened even further, multiple waves coming from the terminal and other buildings to converge on their position, they would be able to punch some mighty holes in their lines.

And beneath her, in the cab, sat the sealed bag that contained the prize. The thing that had made the entire mission necessary, and which might alter the course of the war. Those were some pretty heady stakes they were dealing with, and she was the one to make sure they came out on the winning side of that.

She breathed…

She checked her chrono… Seven minutes and counting til the Herc touched down. The Colonel’s last update that said they were ten minutes out felt like hours ago. Time itself was slowing down.

Kobayashi raised his launcher to his shoulder and began sighting. According to her own enhanced optics, the farthest of their targets just passed the 100 meter mark. And the northernmost group was converging with the ones coming from the east, as expected. Just a few more seconds…

“Ready…” she said. Mill raised his weapon for a second and crinked his neck. It emitted some loud cracks, and he went right back to sighting.

“Ready…” Whitman slowly extended his right finger to take hold of the grenade launcher trigger while his left supported the stock. He inched forward to get behind Kobayashi on the firing line. He wanted to be there when they unleashed a forty-millimeter surprise on their asses.

“Ready…” he hers words disappeared in the air and all sound seemed to be sucked out of the world. All there was was the faint background noise of growls and gnashing coming from the advancing host. This was it, the final exchange which would either see them safely home, or send them to an early grave. They would either return home heroes, or waste away in a forgotten in a dead city, their names never to be heard again.

All of converged on this very moment, and the final order to engage.

She could feel it in her bones. It was electrifying and scary all at once.

She picked her target, two in a row, and began to squeeze.

“FIRE!”

Engineering Life for Mars

And we’re back with some more news of and about the Red Planet! Thanks to Curiosity’s ongoing efforts to discover potential life on Mars, scientists back at home have begun to seriously contemplate engineering life that will help in our own colonization efforts someday. The rational seems to be, “why search for life on Mars when you could create it?”

And the reasons for this seem pretty straightforward. Though Mars may have supported life at one time, it is not an especially hospitable environment right now. If in fact human beings settle there someday, survival won’t be easy. The average surface temperature of Mars is minus 60 degrees Celsius, and the almost-nonexistent atmosphere is 95 percent carbon dioxide.

And although water exists in Mars’ ice caps and there’s some evidence that oceans once existed, today it’s essentially a deep-frozen desert. If the would-be settlers ever want to live beyond sealed domes, and eat something other than hydroponically grown food and melted ice that is constantly being recycled, efforts to be got underway to ecologically engineer the surface.

And one such group is a team of undergraduate students from Stanford and Brown Universities that are busy applying synthetic biology to space exploration, outfitting microbes to survive the extreme Martian conditions and produce resources needed to sustain a human colony. According to Ben Geilich, the team Captain, the benefits are obvious: “Obviously, bringing up heavy machinery or building materials is going to be really expensive. The benefit of having bacteria that can do this for you is they’re really small and very light. Once there, they could grow food, produce medicine, extract minerals, and build building material.”

The fruit of their labor is the Hell Cell, a genetically engineered assemblage that could enable a bacterium to withstand extreme cold, dryness and radiation. It includes genetic modules, or BioBricks, based on DNA from a variety of ultra-tough organisms, including a cold-resistant species of Siberian beetle that makes “antifreeze” proteins, a radiation-resistant bacterium that sequesters large amounts of the element manganese, and E. coli, which produces a nutrient that confers cold and drought resistance.

It’s part of a process that Andre Burnier, one of the team’s mentors and a lab technician at NASA’s Ames Research Center, described in the following way: “You go into nature and find genes, and then you can recombine them into circuits that you cannot find in nature.” After presenting their Hell Cell during the regional International Genetically Engineered Machines (iGEM) challenge this month, the team has since moved on to developing bacteria that could extract minerals from Martian sediment or recycle rare metals from spacecraft electronics. In addition, they are also investigating heat and acid-tolerance mechanisms that could be useful in other planetary environments, particulary Venus, which as you may recall, is also a candidate for terraforming.

Needless to say, Geilich is excited by all the doors theirs and the research of others is opening. “In the coming years,” he says, “I think we’re going to see a huge boom in stuff done with bacteria, only limited by our imagination and creativity.” But of course, not all agree. As Burner indicates, there are ethical implications that are likely to upset some, should the concept ever be made viable. After all, if there is no life on planet to begin with, then there are no ethical implications about transforming it. But send in the bacteria to change up a world that already boasts life, and you are essentially committing eco-genocide.

All of this puts me in mind of the Genesis Project from Star Trek II and III. There, scientists created a device which could alter the configuration of any planet within minutes. With a name like “Genesis”, the purpose was pretty self-explanatory – to create life from lifelessness. But this made it absolutely necessary to find a lifeless planet, otherwise whatever was already there would find itself permanently altered.

Funny how science fiction predicts real science, up to and including the ethical implications. They were pretty good movies too, go heck them out. And follow the link below for more reading on the subject!

Source: Wired.com

Joss Wedon’s Viral “Zomney” Video

Does it seem funny how Presidential elections always fall so close to Halloween, but none of the candidates ever seem to take advantage of that fact to call their opponent a ghoul or a zombie? Or perhaps they might say that their opponent is the kind of person who would hand out toothpaste and dental floss on Halloween instead of sweet, sweet candy. I’d be less inclined to vote for them!

Well, finally, someone is putting their money where their mouth is and using this occasion to do a little Halloween-inspired mud raking. As I’m sure most people are aware by now, the person is Joss Whedon. And the method is the new viral video that claims that Romney is the man to lead America to something far better than economic recovery or general prosperity: the Zombie Apocalypse!

With the election just weeks away and the popularity of shows like AMC’s The Walking Dead, this video could not have been more timely. Going viral almost immediately after Whedon posted it, the video has gone on to attract some 1.8 million years. In essence, Whedon details how the policies proposed by Romney would create just the right environment for the walking dead to take over. These include cut backs in health care, education, social services, reproductive rights that will guarantee poverty, unemployment, overpopulation, disease, rioting; basically all the things that make a zombie apocalypse so very successful and inevitable.

What’s more, he believes that the zombie apocalypse will create a new kind of one percent – something Romney approves of – which will be composed of people who can run really fast, know parkour, and can make explosives. But by far the best line in it was “(are you) ready for the purity and courage of Mitt Romney’s apocalyptic vision? Mitt’s ready. He’s not afraid to face a ravening, gasping horde of subhumans, because that’s how he sees poor people already.” Regardless of your political inclination, you have to admit, that’s gold!

However, the real significance of this video, in my humble opinion, is in how demonstrates just how much this election is being influenced by the internet. Along with many other memes – such as Binders Full of Women and Big Bird being just two examples – have millions of people talking and are even upstaging conventional media outlets. Clearly, any campaigner who intents to win elections in the future will be the one who is new media savvy, a lesson which the Obama campaign has taken to heart. So far, they have clearly been leading the race in terms of internet promotion, but that would seem to be an indication of something else at work here.

For example, a clip featuring Girls creator Lena Dunham that equated voting with losing one’s virginity was posted just last Thursday has already gained over 2 million views. That, and Whedon’s video, are just two of half a  dozen videos that endorse Obama, each with roughly 2 million views apiece. While the Romney camp has posted a similar number of videos online, not one of them can measure up in terms of  sheer following or the impact they’ve had. Clearly, Obama has a numerical advantage when it comes to support, one which embraces the young and tech-savvy. And in an age of information, that’s a good edge to have! As I’m sure people are bound to say very soon, when it comes to internet campaigning, “Go viral or go home!”

Check out Whedon’s and Dunham’s videos below. Again, regardless of your political affiliations, I think you’ll agree that both are poignant and quite funny!

 

The Future is Here: The Mind-Reading Headband!

Okay, it might not exactly represent mind control, or the pinnacle of mind-machine interface, but it’s certainly a step in that direction. Known as the Muse Headband, this device is capable of reading a wearer’s brainwaves through a series of sensors implanted in the band. It then transmits the information in real-time to a computer or mobile device and lets the user know what kind of state they are in.

In short, the device will be capable of letting a wearer know if they are stressed, losing focus, relaxed, or in a state of deep concentration. According to Interaxon, the developer, people will be able to use this device to develop their concentration skills, learn to keep their cools better, and practice relaxation techniques. The company is currently raising funds for development and intends to include a brain fitness app that will be stocked with guided lessons to exercise your memory, attention span, and relaxation skills.

However, the real potential comes in the form of developing devices that can read brainwaves and use them for the sake of remote control and communications. Just think of it – being able to play your video games, conduct IM chats, and type out those troublesome spreadsheets and essays without ever having to push a button or stroke a key. A new era of laziness will dawn! But perhaps future generations will also be more honed mentally, able to hold their concentration long enough to compose a simple sentence without any errs or ahs. Who knows? Even true telepathy could result!

Hey, we’re venturing into science fiction territory here, nothing is too farfetched! And in the meantime, check out the video below of the Muse Headband in action.

Source: news.cnet.com, indigogo

Whiskey Delta – Chapter 44

“There is no type of human endeavor where it is so important that the leader understands all phases of his job as that of the profession of arms.”

- Major General James C. Fry

“They took the bait! They’re following us!”

Saunders keyed her comm and replied. “Good job, Corporal. We got our share of followers too! Meet you at the other end in three mikes!”

Saunders released the comm and looked back from the cab, watching as a clustering of rotted meat began chasing the tanker. Mill turned it to the south and punched the gas, Sanchez looking from the window and popping some rounds off at anyone who got too close too soon.

The rest were hot on the trail of their truck, as expected. Whitman put them into a tight turn and began moving down the tarmac. Not too fast, for fear that they might get ahead of their quarry too soon. Those who proved faster than the rest succumbed to a hail of bullets from Beaumont’s and Kobayashi’s weapons. Putting aside her rifle in favor of a SCAR, she sent the one’s nearest her sector down with single fire shots while Koby blasted the nearest one’s with his Desert Eagle. As per the plan, he had to save his grenades for when they were really needed…

“Nearing the end of the runway, closing in on the hangars.”

Saunders slapped the cab and yelled to Whitman. “Get ready to change course!” she yelled. Whitman slapped the roof of the cab and began picking up speed. Saunders placed her weapon down and lay flat in the bed and extended her limbs. She didn’t want any of their wounded flying out when they pulled their next maneuver. Koby did the same, using his massive frame to pin Braun and Dezba’s limbs to the bed floor.

She slapped the rear window of the cab. Whitman cranked the wheel to the right and aimed them south. He slammed the brakes at the same time, making the truck perform a half donut and leave some impressive marks on the runway. They sat for a second with the engine idling. Saunders looked up from the bed and banged on the window.

“What the hell are we waiting for, Private. Gun it!”

He raised his index finger to her. “One shecond…” he said, his words still slurred. He turned the wheel ever so slightly to the left, and aimed their bumper directly at the mass of Whiskeys that were still following them. “Just lining ‘er up.”

He hit the gas hard. The truck lept forward and picked up speed with a high whine from the engine. They lurched as the bumper came into contact with the first of their pursuers, then jumped as they were thrown under the wheels. Several loud thumps and bumps happened before they were clear and moving down the tarmac again.

Saunders caught sight of the mess they left behind. Crushed masses of pink and grey, a few still walking and turning about slowly to follow. She had to admit, the Private liked his work…

“Closing in on the hangar. Whiskeys are coming out of the woodwork.”

Saunders keyed her comm to reply to Mill. “We’re en route to you. ETA in tow minutes.”

“Roger that!”

At the far end of the runway, the sound of screeching brakes sounded out. Mill pulled the vehicle into a tight turn at the last second and sent the tanker sliding sideways towards the hangar doors. Had the doors been shut, they surely would have smashed into them. As it stood, they simply crashed into the wall with their backside. It was a lucky thing the tanker still had fuel. Even luckier that Whitman’s knack for hotwiring trucks extended to tankers. Though he claimed they were all the same, Saunder suspected that was merely a dose of false modesty on his part.

Mill’s SAW and the characteristic pop, pop, pop of an M4 could be heard in the distance.They were clear of the tanker and fighting their way back to the runway. Between them and the fast moving truck, Saunders spotted another fog of dead bodies. Grey and pale looking monsters who had huddled up to pursue the tanker, but were now coming about as they realized another truck was closer. Whitman put the bumper through another bunch of them and crushed them under the wheels. His preemptive yell of “Hang on!” doing little to prepare them for the impact.

A few more were scattered around them as they finally came to a halt a few feet from Mill and Sanchez. Both were running flat out for the truck, the monsters they had stirred from this end of the runway swarming around the tanker. Saunders stood up in the back and waved them on.

“Move! Move! Move!”

Sanchez rolled into the rear while Mill jumped into the cab next to Beaumont. His foot struck the head bag and he winced. “Goddammit!”

Whitman laughed. “Try widing with it for a couple owerz!” And then he hit the gas again. One more time they passed through the fog of Whiskeys, but Whitman aimed them for the spot with the least amount of resistance. Pushing through with only minor scrapes, they cleared the mass of bodies and hit the tarmac for the last time. Saunders looked to Kobayashi and nodded. He nodded back, grabbing his launcher. She wrapped the window again.

Whitman slammed on the brakes, nearly sending everyone in the back over the top. As soon as all four wheels touched asphalt again, Kobayashi stood and took aim. The Whiskeys were coming about once again to chase their target, but at the moment, the two bodies of them were clustered close together, with most of them just a stone’s throw from the tanker…

“Do it, big man!”

His gun popped and sent a grenade whipping through the air. It touched down true. The tanker went up in a massive blaze that cooked the majority of them instantly. Others were thrown forward from the shock and broke on the ground. Those that were furthest out were spared from the fireball for a few seconds, but then got the worst of it as the flames blew outward and enveloped them.

They felt it in the truck too, a blast of heat that just seemed to roll over them like a tidal wave. Everyone ducked their heads and waited as smoke and flame reached upward and dissipated into the sky. When they looked again, a huge pyre was all that was left of the hangar, the tanker, and the huge mass of bodies that surrounded it. As the echo of the explosion died down, all they could hear were the terrible roars of those Whiskeys that were still being burnt.

“Holy shit, that must  be a bitch,” she muttered. “They’ll just keep burning alive until the fire eats their brains.”

“I’d say the more likely outcome is their brains get cooked inside their heads.”

Saunders wanted to retch. She slapped Kobayashi on the arm for being so graphic with her. They were both interrupted when Braun moved from his spot and began muttering something of his own.

“What was that, LT?” she asked.

“I said…” he paused to breath. “They’re already dead. So who cares?”

Saunders cleared her throat and replied obligingly: “Yes, sir.”

It seemed cold, but that was the way of it now, she knew. No mercy and no pity. Not for them at least. You saved that stuff for your own and the people under your protection. Anything else… was forfeit.

*                    *                    *

She was in the back seat when the pilot looked up suddenly and patted her on the leg. She got up from her chair and looked out the window, her mouth falling open a few inches.

“Oh dear God.”

The plume was about a hundred meters high at this point. Smoke and flame rising into the air from South-East of the city’s center. Was this somebody’s bright idea of a smoke signal, or had some careless individuals merely set off a massive fuel supply?

“How far are we out?”

The pilot didn’t need to check their navmap. He had been monitoring it comprehensively since they entered California airspace.

“We’re within 200 klicks, ma’am. Radio silence is lifted and they should be able to read us.”

She grabbed a hold of one of the spare headsets and made sure they were on the Stryker’s frequency. “This Big Bird to Alpha Team. Do you read, over?”

No reply. She tried again.

“Alpha Team. This is Big Bird. We are en route and monitoring a large explosion in…” the navigator pointed to the navmap. “the Long Beach Airport. Do you read over?”

Still no reply. She removed the headset. “Are we in range for the squad frequency?”

“From our proposed rendezvous, yes. But if that’s them out there…” he shook his head.

The Colonel eyed the smoke plume again. “Divert course, take us closer to that airport.”

“Ma’am, if we stray too far from our course, we might not have enough fuel to make it back to base.”

The Colonel nodded. “Worse case, scenario, I’m wrong and we’ll have to call in a refuel or fly her home on fumes. But if we don’t check that out, and it is our people, then we run the risk of losing this whole mission. You want that on your hands?”

“No ma’am,” he replied curtly.

“Good, then adjust course. That smoke is your new beacon, use it.”

The pilot put his hands to the steering column and began to turning them gently to the west.  She waited a few minutes and couple dozen klicks before trying to raise the squad again.

“Alpha team, this is Big Bird. Do you read over? I say again, this is Big Bird. We are monitoring a large explosion in the vicinity of the Long Beach Airport. Are you on scene over?”

When the reply came, it seemed almost too good to be true.

“Big Bird, this is Corporal Saunders, team leader. We are on scene and awaiting exfil over.”

Calling All Superheroes!

Attention to all those who signed up to become part of the New New Justice League/The Revengers. I am still waiting on some people to complete their bios and their profiles before I can complete our superhero registration form. Yes, they make you fill these out if you want to fight crime or commit them, it’s like a union thing or something. We don’t want to be scabs now do we? If we don’t register soon, they’ll blackball us from all the parties and we won’t be notifications for important seminars, webinars and retreats.

So… please submit your paperwork to HR in a timely manner so I can get out squad up and running.

Okay, seriously though, this is actually been pretty cool! People have come forward to create superhero identities which I think might actually work, and I wouldn’t mind putting them all together and seeing if we can’t create a serial from this or something. Sure, many of our characters are all slightly comedic and satirical, but that’s okay. People like a good comedic rip-off of their old favorites! So to commit to this enterprise which I started as a sort of goof, I am hoping people can finish their characters by making sure they’ve taken the Superhero Challenge parts two and three. If not, I shall be forced to pencil in your details, and I will not be gentle! I will be cliched, humorous, and even a bit tongue-in-cheek.

And I should also mention that in the spirit of things, I have created my own character. Captain Smacdown is his name! Here are his specs, as they will appear in the final installment of our Superhero Challenge, once all characters are registered and complete:

Captain Smackdown

Alter ego: Matt Williams, mild mannered educator/writer/blogger

Appearance: Molded armor suit, dark gunmetal grey, fist logo on the chest, utility belt with tons of guns, smoke grenades, incendiaries, and assorted cool gadgets. Cigar in mouth, scarred cheek, eye patch over one eye. Expressions range from shit-eating grin to a scowl.

Abilities: Mad Fighting Skills, Guns, Gadgets

Backstory: Once an educator with inner city youths and part-time writer, Matt was traumatized when a student of his was murdered in front of him and he was left mortally wounded. Saddened, angry and broken, he joined a private security firm and learned the art of weapons and tactics, but soon became disillusioned with their methods. Realizing that the world was full of evil and that the line between right and wrong was something one could easily find themselves on the wrong side of, he began trekking across the world, learning martial arts and philosophy in East Asia before returning home to fight crime on his own. After many years of battling scum and criminals in the streets, he rose to become head of a new order for fighting evil wherever it reared its ugly head. The New New Justice League/Revengers!

Catchphrase: “Here comes the Smackdown!”

Whiskey Delta – Chapter 43

“The thornbush is the old obstacle in the road. It must catch fire if you want to go further. “

-Franz Kafka

The tarmac was already baking in the afternoon sun. Heat devils were rising, making their recon mission an absolute pain in the ass. Still, Mill was able to see just enough to know the main runway was obstructed. Standing on the bed with his visor down and scope providing magnification, he spotted the large brown mass that was their latest challenge, a fuel tanker parked inexplicably perpendicularly on the tarmac.

From her spot at the front of the vehicle, she had a relatively clear view of a smaller commercial runway which ran parallel to the highway. The parkades around it were all but empty, only a few Cessnas and some private jets still strewn about. It made sense that most of them would be gone, anyone wealthy enough to own their own jet had used it to get out of the city long ago. And as for the small commercial craft, it stood to reason that anyone who could brides any pilot they could find to fly them and their families out in one.

Alas, that runway was unobstructed, and just long enough to accommodate their daring rescue plan. However, she couldn’t help but notice the telltale signs of occupation around the hangars. The bodies were relatively still, clutching to patches of shade in the doorways or inside the open hangar bays. They were relatively inert now, but sure as shit, that would change the second they arrived.

First, the noise of their engine would draw them for their state of relative slumber. Then they wouldn’t be fail to notice the smells of living beings amongst them. Before long, they could expect every Whiskey in the damn airport to be taking notice and running in their direction. By the time the Colonel arrived, both runways would be littered. Unless the pilots didn’t mind landing directly on top of moving targets, they needed to come up with a plan.

“So…” Mill said from his perch. “Any ideas?”

Saunders shook her head. She did not, but she was working on it. In one scenario, they were sure to be overrun by Whiskeys. In the other, they were stuck with a runway that was too short for a landing and take off, and they were sure to draw a lot of attention driving out to reach it.

“I think what we need right now is a Hail Mary,” Mill added, jumping from the bed and joining her at the front.

“Ah good,” she replied sardonically. “I was wondering when somebody would make a tired sports metaphor.”

“You got something against sports?”

“Not at all. I just don’t see the parallel between a long pass and a messed up situation.” Not true. She did. She totally did, and that’s what bothered her. She had resisted the boy BS for so long, but suddenly it was making inroads into her subconcious. Would hanging out with these boys and tossing back brews become a regular thing too? Had she officially joined the “boys club”? To be fair, she could think of worse things, and of course all this was predicated on them making it out alive, which lent it a certain je ne sais quoi.

Another metaphor was entering her mind, something that had less to do with sports and more to do with hunting. Or possibly epistemology, depending on which she liked better. She opted for the latter, as she’d had just about enough of the boyish kind.

She raised her rifle again and spotted the refueling truck, traced a line from it to their current position, and began to let the idea percolate some more. It was a high-risk move, but if they could pull it off, stay light on their feet and managed to control the chaos, they just might clear the runway and take out the Whiskeys in one fell swoop.

She smiled, the idea had form now. They would go with it.

“Is there a plan?” Mill asked, noticing her expression.

She nodded. There was indeed, and even a helpful metaphor to describe it.

Think outside the box.

*                    *                    *

Hot, and bright. The waves began to rise from the black landscape. Too bright to be walking outside, they knew. Best to keep under cover and enjoy the cool breeze. The hot ball of light would be gone soon, and they would begin combing the land once again.

They remembered this place well. So many had been here before, fragrant, fresh ones with their sweet, sweet blood. At night, they went out to find more, combed the empty places where twisted metal and broken glass lay. Surveyed the covered places with the broken fronts. But always, they returned here. The memory of the huddled fresh ones was just too potent.

They waited in the big place, the high roof keeping the hot ball from them. Wind blew in and kept it cool, but was bringing new smells with it. They began to stir from their slumber and some began to moan with interest. The smell was different, yet familiar. Different things mingling and triggering their memories. And noise, an old noise they had not heard since the fresh ones were seen in mass.

A loud thrumming, and the smell of strange smoke. It was getting louder, making everyone in the big place anxious now. Where was it coming from? Why did it smell of fresh meat and blood? Were they coming back? Would they be in the other big places again, or out in the hot, open place?

The noise became very loud, and then came to a screaming halt. And then some of them appeared. The smell was pungent, blood and exposed flesh taking to the air. Some of it was burnt too. Everyone in the place became fixated. For so long they had been without such smells, such tastes. There were many of them… some weak and bleeding too!

And so they ran!

Soon, the group of fleshy ones split up, some staying in their noisy machine, others jumping into another, bigger machine. It became noisy too, and the two began to move off together. The smaller one was closer, and the fleshy ones were making a big show of themselves. They pointed their tools in the air and made loud roars, yelled and waves their fleshy appendages.

Soon, every building was emptying. They all followed the flesh monsters and their lovely smell, drawn by the noise and anticipation of tasting their exposed, burnt and bloody flesh. No time to worry about their thunder tools or their noises, the taste was too sweet, and it had been too long since they tasted it last. And so many were here in one place, how could they resist the invitation to follow them?

And so they ran. All together, into the hot day, following them down the hot black road…

Halo 4 Trailer!

A new series of trailers have been making the rounds lately, designed purely to get gamers salivating! After many years, it seems that Halo will be releasing a fourth installment in its ongoing series, one which promises some changes and new challenges. The first trailer premiered at the Electronic Entertainment Expo (aka. E3) back in June of this year and previewed the new game’s storyline. The second trailer, titled “Scanner” was released just this month and offers some additional clues as to what the game will be about.

Basically, it is four years since the Earth-Covenant War ended, and the UNSC has once again began colonizing new worlds. However, the maiden voyage of the “Infinity” is interrupted when some mysterious force teleports it to a distant world. Once again, the Master Sergeant is called in to investigate and kick some ass, but get’s captured along the way. The new enemy, some “Ancient Evil” as the trailer suggests, appears to be Forerunner in nature. They have awakened from several thousand years of sleep and are out to protect the Galaxy from the scourge that is humanity. Bummer…

Official release date is Nov. 6th, 2012, for those gamers who don’t already know. Enjoy the trailers!

*Sidenote: I also managed to find a third trailer over at the IGN website, but unfortanately, it won’t let me embed it here. However, some additional clues were provided there – particularly the identity of the new enemy – and I have included them here. You’re welcome