Adam Oster's Blog, page 27

Fat Mogul vs. The Extreme Exhaustion of Existence

In case I haven’t made it completely clear, the past six months of my life have been incredibly busy.  Between the new house/farm and all the tasks that come along with that, the new job, three kids, vacationing, visiting family members and all those millions of other things which just seem to happen during the summer months, not to mention, you know, just being an adult…well, I’ve found myself a busy man.

And then I’ve also had the pleasure of additional tasks, like building a playhouse, a vacation which took us all across the southeastern United States, house warming parties, destroying a building, and those 3 hours a week of lawn mowing, not to mention trying to catch up on my television shows…

Well, let’s just say, I’m tired.

Not just tired, I’m downright beat.

And so I sat here for an hour, trying to come up with something to write about between the distractions of facebook and the news and whatever else I could find to click on on my computer, and, well, the only thing I could come up with to talk to you about is just how darned tired I am.

Heck, every time I sit down to write, whether it’s for the blog or for my books or whatever else I may be writing about, my first topic I want to mention is just that I’m tired.

It’s a good tired, but tired all the same.

So, here’s where I tell you that I’m making a change which will fix this.

Well, it’s where I should tell you, but honestly, for the first time in my entire life, I find myself excited for winter.  Completely and utterly prepared for those months here in Wisconsin where it is downright dangerous to even step outside the door for fear of freezing your unmentionables off.

I’m ready.

Because then, maybe, I’ll just possibly find myself a little bit of time to rest.

But for now, I’ve got a chicken shed to finish tearing apart.

Have fun out there!

Fat Mogul vs. Nazis

I have to admit that the title of this blog post still seems more appropriate a title for a future book in The Defenders Saga than it does about the serious content I intend to capture today.

Because, seriously…Nazis?

Look, I get it.  They’ve never really disappeared.  They’ve held rallies for years.  So have the Klan.  And a whole bunch of other folks we really would rather sweep under the rug with an embarrassed look on our face, as if to pretend we’ve cleaned up the worst of our history.

And actually with that in mind, the fact that these folks have held public rallies for years now, one may be tempted to question why the one in Virginia three weeks ago (I know, I’m behind the times.  I was on vacation) was so different.

The easy answer is that someone got killed.  Someone got ran over by a car because they disagreed with the sentiments of someone else.

Of course, there’s a lot more which goes into all of this.  The stakes on racism have risen greatly in the past few years.  We, as a nation, have been forced to become more aware of the serious issues at hand for people of color through movements such as Black Lives Matter, while the many different groups who band together under the Alt-Right banner have become much more vocal about how they feel that White Lives Matter More.

Over 150 years after the Emancipation Proclamation and nearly 50 years after Martin Luther King Jr was shot on his hotel room’s balcony, we’re still fighting the same battle this country has been fighting since it’s inception: Are all men actually created equal?

But the stakes have gotten even higher than that.  Why were so many alt-righters gathered together in the first place?  To protest the removal of a statue of Confederate hero General Lee.  Well, there were probably a few other items on their reason list, but this was the primary excuse.  This landmark was added to the list for removal in part as a response to the  shooting in a Charleston church 2 years ago.

So, taking a step back for a moment…a protest to keep a statue which was being removed due to an act of violence, ended in violence.

Actually, you can take a step back even further a look at how these alt-right protesters came to rally.  They came with guns. Big guns.  And shields and sticks and torches and armor and…They came to show force.  Not a force of will.  Not a force of people.  But a sheer physical force.  One of violence.  One to show that they weren’t to be messed with.

There may even be a place to question why local law enforcement didn’t respond to these protests as they had in Dakota, with water and tear gas and other forms of non-lethal deterrents.  I can’t speak for Virginia, but our cops around here don’t generally carry semi-automatic rifles for basic crowd control.  My guess is that they had no idea of how to cope with the militia which appeared in front of them.

And, to be completely fair, the counter protests weren’t exactly all hippy peace, love, and flowers.  They may not have carried the weapons, but chants like Kill All Nazis definitely don’t send a positive message.  And yes, I know, we’re talking about Nazis, positive messages are not necessarily deserved.  I’m merely stating that the air was filled with the scent of blood before any blood was shed.

There are so many questions about our country which should arise out of these events in Virginia.  Questions like whether weapons should be considered okay under the right to assemble.  Questions about whether these Confederate memorials truly should continue to exist.  Whether they should be considered offensive tributes to a period of racism or a remembrance of our own history.

And…most importantly, questions about who we really are as a nation.

In the social media aftermath of the tragic event two weeks ago, many of my friends began stating things like how Nazis and White Nationalists and Confederate Sympathizers shouldn’t be allowed the same freedom of speech as we give the rest of our country.  My immediate response was to recoil at the idea of censoring the public.  Then I took a step back to consider what this might actually mean.  What if we were to flat out tell people that this type of discussion weren’t allowed.  Germany outlawed the swastika after World War II, would it be so bad if we were to do the same with the Confederate flag?

So, first, no matter how I look at it, telling people they aren’t allowed to express their opinions is treading on thin ice.  But I think we can all agree that threats of violence simply shouldn’t be allowed.  There does appear to be some inclusion of this in how we perceive the First Amendment, but not necessarily directly.  However, with that thought in mind, both sides of this battle would have already found themselves on the wrong side of our freedom of speech banner.  Stating that all Nazis should be killed is the same as saying all PoCs should be killed.  It’s a threat of violence and would not be allowed under this consideration.

But can we truly censor what we allow the people of our nation to talk about?  Can we say it’s illegal to say whites are better than blacks?  When you begin to censor, you open the floodgates for further censoring.  It is an unquestionably terrible belief to think that one race is superior to another, but you’re also setting a precedent which could used in ways which may not be so great.  We already have a president in office who has removed all discussion of climate change from federal literature.  What if he were to say that it were illegal to talk about it entirely?  I can’t help but think of the McCarthyism of the late 40s and early 50s.  It’s a dangerous road.  One we’ve gone down before.  One I would hate to see us go down again.

But what about the centerpiece of this rally?  What about the symbols and memorials and flags?

There’s a lot which goes into the history of the Confederate States of America.  Yes, it’s quite easy to simply boil it down to slavery, as that was certainly a keystone of the Civil War.  And, unfortunately for the discussion of allowing such things to continue, white supremacy seems to be one of the major supporters of this symbol today.  As such, whether or not there is a great deal of history behind the Confederate flag, it has been taken as a symbol of racism and oppression.  And of violence.  Then again, a debate could be had to say that the American flag itself also stands as a symbol of such…but that’s for a different discussion.

So, the question should be, why are we removing these symbols of the Confederacy?  As a statement that we are above slavery?  Above racism?  Or is it to, as I stated before, sweep under the rug a moment we want to forget?  Many people label these symbols as being offensive, which is certainly a viable label as well, especially when folks such as the alt-right utilize them as symbols for their cause.

So then the greater question is: is there any reason to keep them?

One of the secondary reasons for secession which led to the Civil War was about the very topic of free speech.  The South, whether or not their reasons were on the right side of history, feared the loss of their voice in the Union.  And when they saw themselves as being completely lost, they began the largest protest of them all.  And it led to violence.  Terrible violence.  From both sides.  Violence which ultimately led to a decision which ended up bettering our country, even if we’re still working out the details 150 years later.

I can see wanting to take down these monuments to this moment in America’s history.  In many ways, the secession of the South could be seen as an act of treason.  Yet, it could also be seen as the greatest example of our First Amendment our country has ever seen.

And by now, you’re probably wondering where my answers to these questions are.  I’ll admit, I don’t have very good ones.  I’m filled with questions myself.

But if I were to be backed into a corner and asked how we should look at these situations moving forward, I would state that there are some things our country can do to avoid similar situations in the future.  I’ll admit I’m not a huge fan of open carry (or concealed carry), but I think it should be easy to agree that bringing guns or weapons in general to a protest should be considered illegal.  Sure, these things have turned into riots all too often in recent years which may make one want to protect themselves, but that, to me, makes it even more important to help keep these things from escalating further by bringing weapons into the mix.

But I hesitate on how much further our country itself can go in litigating these moments.  We can choose to take down the monuments to the Confederacy, and there is good cause to do so, but I think the rest of it relies on us, the people.  The Civil War occurred for a variety of reasons, but ultimately it happened because our country saw itself as two different opposing factions, instead of a community of people.  Now, I’m not saying that it’s even all that possible to go head to your nearest Breitbart subscriber and discuss with them the merits of equality, but maybe we need to be able to realize that there is something there.  That there is a reason they exist.  I’m not suggesting they exist because one race is actually better than the other, but that there is a reason they believe these things.  That whether they were brought up to believe these things as a kid, had a bad experience with a person of color which led them to this conclusion, or perhaps just found a group which accepted them and are along for the ride, there is something which causes these people think this way.

And as is true with enacting any change of heart, violence or litigation or just plain yelling very infrequently does the trick.  The Civil War is a great example of this.  The Union may have won.  Slavery may have been abolished.  But we’re still fighting that same fight today because the hearts of the people haven’t been changed.

Are there purely evil people within the alt-right movements, people who are just simply lost causes and should be thrown away into the fire, people who are beyond conversion, beyond saving, beyond caring about?  Possibly.  But they too are going to be difficult to change through hate.

Of course, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be angry.  We have plenty of reason to be angry.  We SHOULD be angry.

But sometimes we also need to take a step back, take a breath, and use a little empathy to figure out what makes these people tick, to figure out why the heck they might think the way they do.  To determine what could get a man to think driving his car through a crowd of people who think differently than him is okay.

A person doesn’t change their mind or behavior simply because you make it illegal for them to think the way they do.  They change their mind through empathy and compassion, through seeing things in a different light.  You make it illegal and it will just get louder.

There will be more violence before this is over.  And we will need many people on the side of equality to be willing to fight those battles.  But we need even more people who are willing to fight the battles of the heart.  To work with our friends and neighbors to convince them that these ways of thinking are pure garbage.

Sorry, this is a really long post today.  I’ve long battled with the image of the Confederate flag.  I don’t consider myself a racist, but the history behind this image is immense.  At the same time, so is the history behind the swastika. And both images hold some incredibly similar connotations, at least when it comes to oppression/genocide of an entire race.  Yet there was also a certain callback to the Revolutionary War held within.  An ideal, even if its main support was that of slavery, that we, as a people, have a voice and should have a voice…which is, of course, hypocritical when you recognize how these same people flying this flag were unable to consider a great portion of their population as people with a voice.

 

Jack to the Future: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Travelers through Space

“How about The Tailor?” Wade asked Jack as they drove along the countryside.

“What?” Jack asked.

“For my nickname, The Tailor.  It’s not quite as badass as The Butcher, but it’s got that double meaning of, you know, how much tail I get.”

“I’m with you nearly twenty-four hours a day.  When in the world are you getting tail?”

“I get enough.  Besides, if I can make that my name, maybe word’ll get around and increase my chances.”

“Right.”

“So?” Wade asked in a long drawn out sound.

“So what?”

“The Tailor.  What do you think of it?”

“Fine, if you need a nickname, go with The Tailor.  It could be worse.”

“Not exactly the type of response I was hoping for.  I’ll come up with something better.”

“On to more important things,” Jack changed the subject.  “Do you have any clue of where we’re going?”

“Yeah, to The Bowery.  South of the—“

“I know where The Bowery is, I mean, do you have any clue of how to get there?  It’s not like we’ve got the Turnpike or anything to go by.  Hell, do you even have any clue of how to get onto Manhattan?  I can’t imagine the tunnels have been built yet.”

“They have to have bridges already, don’t they?”

“I don’t know.  Also, there aren’t any freaking road signs, how do you know where to go?”

“We’re in Newark, pal.  How hard can it be to drive east until you hit the water?”

“I guess we’re going to find out.”

 

The pair drove for a time, Wade appearing to have gotten misdirected on a number of occasions, causing them to have to double back, before they came upon a great mass of water and saw, on the other side, the unmistakable skyline of Manhattan.

“Look, I told you I could find it.”

“Yeah, it only took you three hours to make a forty-five minute trip.  Heck, there’s no traffic out here, probably should have only been 20 minutes.”

“You know, I think I’d be a lot more grateful if I were you.”

“Grateful for what?  That I have to go back in time to face off against some dude who calls himself The Butcher because your future self couldn’t stay out of trouble?”

“Well, I was going to say that I got you here without running out of gas or anything, but yeah, that too.  I mean, think of the adventure we’re having!”

“I’d much rather be home.”

“Yeah, you always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

“You’re pathetic.  So, any ideas on how we’re going to cross the Hudson?”

“This is all your idea, why don’t you come up with something?”

A loud horn sounded in the distance, causing the two to look for the source of it.  A large boat floated across the water.  A big grin grew on Wade’s face.

“Of course, the ferry!” Wade exclaimed.

Jack groaned.

“Come on, I’ve always wanted to ride the ferry.”

“And I’ve told you that the ferry is a terrible place which reeks of piss and old men and is filled with all sorts of obnoxious tourists.”

“But we’re like a hundred years or something in the past.  Maybe it doesn’t smell like that yet.”

Jack groaned again.

“Come on, Jack.  It’s not like you have any better ways to get across.  You don’t want to swim it, do you?”

“Fine,” Jack gave in.  “But I want it on record how I’m against every portion of this little trip.  If anything bad happens, if I get mugged or killed or touched inappropriately, I’m holding it all against you for all time.”

“Yay!” Wade cheered.  “The ferry!”

Wade drove up closer to the waterfront and spied a dock to the north.  And within minutes they arrived at their destination.  As they found a place to park, hidden among some trees, Jack spoke up in surprise.

“Wade!” Jack announced.  “How in the world are we going to pay for the ferry?”

“I’ve got a twenty.  You think that will be enough?”

“I don’t think it matters how much money we have, it’s not going to look like the money they have today.  There’s no way they’re going to accept it.”

“Oh, yeah.  I didn’t think about that.”

“Yeah, and do you have any idea what they do to counterfeiters in the 1800s?”

“No, what?”

“No clue, but I can’t imagine it’s good.”

“Okay, so what do we do?”

“I don’t know, maybe we can—“

A man approached them, wearing the garb of the men they had seen in Newark, same pants tucked into the boots and stovepipe hat.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.  Would you happen to be Wade Skeeler?”

“Um, yeah,” Wade replied tentatively.

The man held out two small pieces of paper.  “The Butcher said you may be in need of these.”

Wade took the paper from the man’s hand and the man walked away without another word.

“This Butcher guy has really thought of everything, hasn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”

“He got us ferry tickets.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack responded sarcastically, “he seems like a really thoughtful guy.”

“Shall we?” Wade said, his grin returning.

“I guess if we have no other options,” Jack frowned.

Wade handed Jack one of the slips of paper and skipped off toward the dock.  Jack followed behind him slowly.

Fat Mogul vs. 2017 (Summer Edition)

It seems like this is just the year that keeps pushing and pushing and pushing to keep me working hard.

Which means I’m here to give yet another update on the thoughts of this year so far.

Most importantly…I just got back from vacation, and boy are my arms tired (wait, what?).  Actually, no, my entire body is tired.  The past couple months have involved tearing down a chicken shed, planting, weeding and ultimately giving up on a garden, building a playhouse, hosting countless houseguests, and, well, you know, just life stuff.  But then this past month has taken a deeper turn.  We had a house full of kids, followed by a trip across the country for two weeks, which, upon our return, meant another house guest…and this coming weekend will be the culmination of everything (or at least I’m finding I really truly hope it is) where we finally have our housewarming party.

So, yeah, I’m tired.  I’m not complaining, but I’m definitely tired.

But what does that have to do with anything you all may care about.

Well, a couple of things.

First…although I did some amazing kicking of the butts on Agora Files III at the beginning of this spring, writing has all but stalled over the course of these past couple months.  I’m hoping to get back on it in the next week or so, as I have some incredible plans for it and am mighty excited about finally finishing this tall tale I began over five years ago.  But, life, as too often happens in the realm of a part-time author, has just gotten to far in the way.

The same can be said for my novel I’ve been releasing on here, Jack to the Future.  I have high hopes to begin releasing new chapters this week already, but it has certainly been stalled.

However, what I’m most excited about it how many stories I’ve been inspired to write over the past couple months, stories which I’m finding incredibly difficult not to drop everything else I’m writing and begin now.  One was inspired by the film in the French pavilion in Epcot (although I think most would be hard pressed to see the inspiration), one was inspired by a series of events which occurred in the middle of nowhere South Carolina when our car broke down, and one was inspired simply by living the country life I’m trying to live right now.

Point being, 2017 hasn’t been great for actually getting words on the page (neither was 2016…), but I’ve got a whole host of ideas, and the lack of new books has nothing to do with a lack of trying, just a lack of time.  Which is a situation I intend to rectify as soon as possible.

So, of course, this is just yet another message to say I haven’t been doing the thing you all expect me to be doing, but hope to get back to it soon.  I have even scheduled myself some time to plow through some pages of Agora III this week.  Let’s just hope another part of my life doesn’t explode causing me to have to reschedule.

But for now…have fun out there!

Book Review: Playing for Keeps by Mur Lafferty

How can you go wrong with a book where the main characters have super powers like being able to throw a bar tray or shooting fecal matter from your hands or not being able to be stolen from?

And that last one, that’s the one which gives this book its name.  It’s the one that matters.  Because Keepsie (the main character) has a very special ability.  Anything that is her’s is her’s, unless she chooses otherwise.  And that’s what kicks this book into motion.

Keepsie and her pals aren’t exactly A squad superheroes.  They’re way down that list.  But that doesn’t mean they don’t wish they could use their powers for good.  However, the man (in this case, the big name celebrity superheroes) have told them they just aren’t good enough.  And they, understandably, have a pretty bad case of sour grapes about the whole thing.  However, when they get put in the middle of a battle between good and evil, they have a pretty difficult time knowing which way they should swing.  Go with the “good” guys who seem to not be all that great, or go with the “bad” guys who, well, they certainly aren’t good, are they?

Instead, these intrepid heroes choose to go with option C…which is a bit more convoluted than I’m going to go into here.

Needless to say, Keepsie and Co. are required to save the world, and their powers, at least at first, appear to not be up to par against these good guys and these bad guys.

Which is where Lafferty’s real talent shines. She gave these folks some really odd powers.  One person has the special ability to know exactly what any one person wants to eat at any given time.  But Lafferty points out, through the narrative, that even these seemingly pitiful powers have some really great advantages.  You know, if you get a little creative in how you use them.

Playing for Keeps is an incredibly unique look at the superhero genre.  Not only does Lafferty develop some truly original superpowers, but she manages to showcase how each of them could be used to its greatest effect.  And it’s this ability which is incredibly necessary for the narrative, for the protagonists, to succeed.

I’ve read a lot of superhero novels over the years and this one is truly unique and well worth the read for anyone who likes the genre.

Buy it now!

Fat Mogul vs. Art

I once had a landlord named Art.  We didn’t always get along.  However, this article is not about him.  It’s about the much more obvious topic, the creative arts.

As tends to be my norm here, I’m going to make a broad statement to begin and then spend most of the rest of the time noting how it’s not actually all that true…even if I tend to believe the broad statement.

Art is a thankless endeavor.

Like I said, I tend to believe that’s true.  If you’re creating, truly creating, you’re pouring your heart and soul into something unique, something which is a physical manifestation of your soul.  And just like you thought in high school, not everyone is going to ‘get’ you.

Because Art is subjective.  It means something different to everyone.  Just like everyone sees you a little bit different from everyone else, and everyone definitely sees you quite a lot different than you see yourself, Art just so happens to be something where what other people see is not the same as what you see, or what you intended.

As such, it’s really easy to believe, right off the bat, that even those who may appreciate your Art, just really aren’t appreciating it ‘correctly’.

Of course, we all know that there is no real true ‘correct’ way to appreciate any piece of Art (even if your high school Art Appreciation teacher may have told you differently…or literature teacher…or music teacher…).  Because, again, Art is subjective.

Although I know most of you know what I’m getting at here, I’m going to use an example, just because I happen to have one immediately at the ready.  Pixar has become amazing effective at the emotional pull.  It seems nearly everyone of of their recent movies have had those moments where even the most unaffected of us find it difficult to not have to wipe away a little bit of ocular lubrication.

For my wife (and…you know, not me, not at all, because I don’t actually suffer from tearing up at anything ever), there is no moment in cinematic history where this is more true than the opening sequence for Up…specifically the montage of Carl and Ellie’s life together.  Even more specifically, the moment where they appear to suffer a miscarriage.

This moment brings my wife back to the day we should have been celebrating one year of marital bliss, where we were told that the child we were expecting no longer had a heartbeat.

While I’m sure many who have not dealt with the heartbreak of a miscarriage can see the pain in that sequence, especially considering how quickly it comes after they are preparing a room for their child, this brief moment in the film actually takes my wife right back to that moment.  It’s painful.  Beautifully so, but painful nonetheless.

Because Art is subjective. We take it into ourselves, apply all of our personal experiences to it, and it comes out filtered.  Different.

It’s why so many of these remakes and sequels struggle so much, because people are going into the film with previous knowledge and expectations.  No matter how hard those writers, actors, directors, and every other single person in the film army may have worked to make something truly unique (although, you know, still a rehash of someone else’s hard work), we still go into it having our own thoughts, our own expectations, our own filters. It’s truly amazing that any of these are able to succeed, considering this.  Except…of course…a part of these experiences brings back memories of our time enjoying the original movie.

A person who watches The Force Awakens without seeing any other Star Wars film is going to have a completely different experience than a person who has A New Hope memorized.

That’s a very detailed way of saying, no matter what you intend with your Art, it’s never going to be experienced the way you expect it to.  One last example to get this all completely squared away.  Imagine your most embarrassing moment.  I’m sure you’ve thought that moment over and over again, you’ve considered all the different ways you could have acted differently.  You’ve prepared, just in case it were to happen again.  Looking back on yourself, you may be able to state that you were an absolute idiot.  So is Art.  It’s everyone being able to look in on you from the outside, with their own knowledge and experience, and being able to state that you are an idiot…or not.

When you decide to place yourself out there as an artist, you are putting a piece of yourself out in the world which can’t be changed.  You may look back at it in future days and realize how dumb you were, but that’s you.  A piece of you.  A photograph of you.

But the best Art is the Art that doesn’t care.  The Art that is willing to be wrong, that is willing to be embarrassing, that is willing to truly showcase the heart and soul of the Artist at that one specific point in time.

And this is where Art gets so damned troublesome.  Because, even if you put all of your entire being into something, it doesn’t mean any single person will care.  Because, even though Art is subjective, it’s also incredibly personal.

As an artist, I’m constantly amazed by my artistic friends and their abilities to show confidence amid their insecurities.  To put themselves on display, naked and afraid, and be willing to do it more and more.  I’ve been writing for 8 years now and I still find myself nervous to even tell anyone about it.  Nervous that they won’t accept me for me.

Interestingly enough, it’s never the bad reviews that get me.  I’m actually cool with them.  Someone doesn’t ‘get’ my writing.  I can live with that.  But there’s still some piece of me, deep down, which fears being in that moment when I was young, where a classroom full of kids were pointing and laughing at me because I was too stupid to understand what was going on.  Because I was naive.  Because I just simply hadn’t had all the information.

But I hold on to that fear.  Simply because I’m of the opinion that if your Art doesn’t scare you, you’re not doing it right.  Sure, many of my stories may appear to be rather innocuous.  But they’re all still a part of me.  And sometimes, it’s just really damned hard to be proud of yourself, especially when you’re putting the deepest parts of yourself on display.

Luckily, very few people read anymore

Fat Mogul vs. Anniversaries

Yeah, I know, this is when I’m supposed to be putting up a new chapter of Jack to the Future so you can all read it and look for all those terrible typos I’ve placed sporadically throughout.

But…today’s a special day.  Because today is the day where I celebrate 10 years of (mostly) marital bliss with my better half.

Yeah, I know, the mostly seems like a jab at the whole marriage thing, but let’s be honest, marriage is not always the most awesome thing.  There are days, weeks, maybe even months or years where you just don’t know where the whole thing is going.  You just can’t see the daylight at the end of whatever tunnel you’re currently in.  Or maybe you’re just crabby and want to be left alone, yet that partner of yours keeps trying to get you out of your funk.

But that’s the thing about marriage. It has its good times and it has its bad times, because, you know, life.  And, if you’re doing it right, you’ve got someone there beside you throughout it all, instead of having to go through those good and bad times alone.  You’ve got someone to celebrate with when things go right, you’ve got someone to comfort you when they don’t.

But, I’m not here to talk about marriages in general.  I’m here to talk about my own.  My very own marriage which now celebrates 10 years of being in existence.  We made it past the 8 year mark (where the average marriage ends) without even blinking.  And the 10 year mark, we’re feeling as strong as ever.  We’re facing new challenges, new adventures, and ready to just all around take over the world.  Together.

Now, I’ll admit, I’m pretty terrible at actually coming up with ways to celebrate anniversaries.  It’s not that I forget.  I have google calendar set up to remind me of it’s impendingness a month ahead of time so I can’t forget.  It’s just that I’m not really all that great at the big romantic gestures.  So, tonight will be fairly low key.  We’ll be at home, sans kids, just enjoying the country life a bit more quietly.  Something we haven’t had much of a chance to do since we moved out here.

And, because we’re terrible at holding off on gift exchanges, we’ve already done all that jazz as well.  The picture of the map which may or may not have brought you here.  That’s what I got my wife.  It’s one of those big 24 by 36 deals (I think…) on corkboard where you can mark the places you’ve been and the places you want to go.  Since one of the things we love to do most as a family is travel, and we’re always looking for the next adventure, it seemed to me to be the perfect way to celebrate the last 10 years, to look at where we’ve been and to look forward to where we want to go.  As you can see, we’ve got a lot of pins in place already, and we haven’t even completed putting them all in yet (either on the places we’ve been or the places we’re going).  Each of those white pins marks another step in our journey together.  Each of those black pins a step where we’ve been.

It’s a map of our adventure together.  A map which will (hopefully) never be complete.

I was pretty excited about this gift idea, while also being a little nervous.  I don’t generally do much for purchases of home decor items because I, to be completely honest here, don’t have much of an eye for design.  And although I can’t say for certain my wife thinks it’s the most gorgeous option I could have found for such things, her gift for me tells me that I had the right idea at the very least.

Because her gift for me was yet another adventure.  One which involves white water rafting and ziplining.

Because some of these adventures we’re going to have to get out of the way before we’re too old to actually do them

Book Review: Blackbeard’s Justice by Jeremy McLean

Blackbeard’s Justice is the third book in Jeremy McLean’s The Voyages of Queen Anne’s Revenge series and to put it simply, if you liked the first two, you’re definitely going to enjoy the third one.

But I don’t write simple little reviews like that.

And Blackbeard’s Justice doesn’t deserve a simple review.  This is a nuanced book, especially considering that at it’s core it’s a swashbuckling adventure novel, but here we get to see the dread pirate Roberts…I mean Blackbeard, deal with the events of the previous book, where he may or may not have killed his close friend in a fit of rage.  At the same time, his town has been ravaged by a different set of pirates, who just so happen to be led by Calico Jack, a guy who has some revenge need to begin with, leads some folks who have some revenge need, and just so happens to have a secret identity which plays close to Blackbeard’s own personal history, as well as that of several of his crew.

In other words, there’s a ton going on here.  And McLean manages to keep the story moving forward while also juggling all these different pieces quite expertly.  As the main cast of characters continues to grow, we get to see each and every one of them develop their own paths through the narrative.  This isn’t a crew where everyone follows the protagonist blindly.  In fact, one of Blackbeard’s biggest issues is that his crew seems to, more often than not, think he’s lost it and is in need of some psychiatric help.

Blackbeard’s Justice may be more of the same we’ve come to expect from McLean, but it also does a fantastic job of keeping the series alive.  What originally began as a quest to find the answers about a mysterious ship has developed into a look behind the madness of Blackbeard and his crew and an attempt to give the reality of the pirating business a good hard look…while making sure there is still plenty of swashbuckling to go around.

Buy it now!

Fat Mogul vs. Reboots, Remakes, and Rehashes

I am a sucker for nostalgia.  Just this past weekend, in fact, I found a version of the old game, Lode Runner, for my phone and found it incredibly difficult to put it down.  Well, it wasn’t actually the old Lode Runner game.  It was a new version.  Had the basic mechanics, but the puzzles weren’t quite the same.  But still, it was the basic thing.

However, I kept finding myself wishing I were playing the original.

Then I found that they even had the classic levels on the mobile app, just reskinned with their new look.  It still just didn’t quite feel that same, although I did smile at the memorable layouts of gold and bricks.

That is a 100% true story, but one which also does a perfect job of highlighting what I think is 100% wrong with the entertainment of today.

We keep asking for people to redo the things we used to love.

You know when you have that one amazing party.  The one where you and your friends talk about it for years afterward.  And then you decide to do it again, invite all the same people, make sure you have the same music, the same games, the same meal.  You make certain that every single aspect of that party is the same as the first one you all have been dreaming about for years.

And it sucks.

It just doesn’t feel right.

The answer, of course, is because it isn’t right.

Now let’s look at recent entertainment.  Since I’m a big fan of Superman, I’ll use the fantastic example of Superman Returns.  At the time of commencement on filming for Superman Returns, Hollywood had been working on a new Superman movie for decades.  It went through numerous directors, writers, actors, and all around concepts before we got Superman Returns.  One of those versions even included Nicolas Cage as Superman.  That one got far enough that we even have a documentary out about it.

But instead, the movie we got was Superman Returns.  Brandon Routh looked almost exactly like Christopher Reeve, they even decided that it wouldn’t be a remake, or a reboot, that they would just ignore the most recent two movies and say this happened after the second Chris Reeve flick. By all means, it would appear that we were getting the Superman we all loved in our childhood back.  Heck. they even had the guy who directed some amazing X-Men movies come around and take over the show.  With a scene like the opening sequence in X2 with Nightcrawler, this movie should be freaking epic!

And it sucked.

Terribly.

Because it was like that party.  Where we got together all the pieces, but ultimately, we just tried to force people to have a good time, instead of trying to do something legitimately unique and original and fun.

But that’s the problem with Hollywood today (as well as most other avenues of entertainment).   Money is made by convincing people they can have the same fun they had before.  And some folks are even getting good at making movies which make people think they are having the same fun (I’m looking at your Force Awakens and Civil War (yes…fun movies, but not nearly as fun as the movies they were trying to get you to remember)).  What this means is we very rarely today find ourselves getting a truly new movie.  Or even a truly new take on an old favorite.

I believe Batman v Superman gave us a new take, but I totally understand how people wouldn’t get behind it.  I mean, the whole Martha thing is certainly a dealbreaker, but at the same time, it’s not the Batman and Superman people expect.  And the motivations behind all that happened weren’t overtly played out, causing many to question why they were happening at all.  BvS is a perfect example of a movie which tried to make a new party with some of the same pieces, while making people think they were going to the old party.  And most of the people left thinking, “But last time we had popcorn!”.

But then we get Wonder Woman…

Now, I haven’t seen it yet.  Life has just been too stupidly busy.  But I trust my wife’s thoughts about flicks and she came out of it saying it is absolutely amazing.  So did everyone else in the world.  It has a 92% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

And the source material was almost entirely unknown to a majority of its audience.

I mean, come on, we finally got a full fledged kick-ass female superhero movie.  That’s amazing!  We can ignore how it shares some incredible similarities to the basic premise behind the first Captain America movie (again, haven’t seen WW, just going of the basic concepts).  And it was directed by a woman!  And, from all I’ve heard, has a spectacular script with absolutely no Marthas.

I read one reviewer say something to the effect of “Wonder Woman was the best Superman movie I’ve ever seen!”.

Because it wasn’t a Superman movie.

That’s not to say that the movie wouldn’t be as beloved if it were the script for a Superman movie, I honestly couldn’t say.  What I am saying is that there were very few expectations moviegoers had going in outside of wanting to see a woman kick some ass.

That’s a much easier expectation to cope with than someone who has spent their childhood watching Christopher Reeve, Dean Cain, and Tom Welling take on the iconic red and blue.

I’m incredibly eager to see Wonder Woman, both because of wanting to see a female superhero finally get a good flick on the screen (because she’s not the first, it’s just that movies like Elektra and Catwoman were terrible), and also because of my absolute love of the comic book character.  She stands toe to toe with the likes of Batman and Superman and has never gotten the attention she deserves in filmed entertainment.  And I’m definitely happy to see her flick as the first DC movie people rally behind, even if I wish the others had seen some more love.

Or a better movie…I’m looking at you Suicide Squad…

Have fun out there!

Jack to the Future: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When in the 19th Century…

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jack yelled as he ran around the vehicle to his brother’s side.  “I don’t know what you guys think Wade did, but I promise you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Can’t imagine as much as we did,” the tall man on the right of Wade said.  He wore a dusty brown three piece suit with a red shirt which was covered in the stains of chewing tobacco spit.  The brown stains made lines all along the front of his attire.  He wore dark pants, which he tucked into his boots, and a stovepipe hat.

“Nope,” said the shorter, thinner man who wore a similar outfit, but in black except for the red shirt, “The Butcher said we’d find us Wade Skeeler coming on through right here at right this time riding up in some sort of fancy covered wagon with no horses attached.  Sounds to me like we got the right guy.”

“Besides,” the tall man said, “he looks just like this here picture.”  He held up a wanted poster with Wade’s face on it.  Jack had to admit it was a rather fair likeness.

“What in the hell did you do, Wade?” Jack screamed at his brother.

“I’m thinking I haven’t done it yet,” Wade answered.  “But whatever it’s going to be, it sure seems like it’s already pissed a whole bunch of people off.  But, can I take one second,” Wade said as he pushed down the guns which were still pointed at his head, “to point out that we totally freakin’ traveled through time?”

“Holy crap,” Jack replied.  “You’re right.  We totally did travel through time.”

Jack and Wade both looked around them to see that they were standing in the middle of a large hilled pasture.  A herd of cows grazed off in the distance.

“Wait a second, where in the world did we go, though?”

“Um, this is still New Jersey, right?” Wade asked the two men.

“Yes,” the shorter man said, “The Butcher said you may also be interested to know that it is October 23rd, 1851.”

“The Butcher seems like a mighty smart guy,” Wade replied.  “So, should we drive, or you?”

“I don’t think we would all fit inside the DeLorean,” Jack answered.

“That’s true, but we don’t really want to leave it around here, do we?”

“It’s not like anyone is going to know how to drive it,” Jack debated.

“True again, but we don’t even know where we’re going.”

“We’s headin’ to da Bowery,” the taller man said.  “And The Butcher said you was more than welcome to bring along your wagon.  He figured you wouldn’t really want to run until you got back what he has of yours.”

“Oh,” Jack said in surprise.  “Um, what does he have?”

“He said you might ask that as well, and then he told us to tell you that it’s, what was the word again, Butch?” the tall man asked the short man.

“Doubleganger,” Butch answered.

“You don’t mean doppelganger, do you?” Jack asked.

“There you go!” Butch smiled.  “Doppelganger.  I knew it was one of those German words.  You know how to get to The Bowery?”

“Yeah,” Wade answered.  “There used to be a guy who threw parties down in the unused section of tunnel over there.  I think I can figure it out.”

“Good to hear it,” the tall man smiled.  “And please don’t make The Butcher wait.  He gets mighty mad when he’s left to waiting.”

“I think you’ll find that we can get there faster than you could imagine,” Wade grinned as he walked to the car.

The two men walked off and stood against a nearby building as though they were waiting for someone else to drop by in a similar manner as Jack and Wade had.    Wade entered the car and after a brief moment of consideration, so did Jack.

“Alright, let’s head home,” Jack said firmly.

“What?” Wade answered.

“You heard me, let’s go home.  They don’t need us, let’s get out of here.”

“You do realize that those ‘doppelgangers’ are us, right?  Like, from the future, come to the past, and somehow getting us into this whole mess in the first place.”

“Actually, no, I hadn’t considered that.”

“Right,” Wade grinned again, “so, that means we have to go see The Butcher because if we don’t, our future selves will be sitting here waiting for us to come save us, but we’ll have decided to—“

“I get it,” Jack cut Wade off.  “Let’s just go see what this Butcher guy is all about.  I can’t say I’m too excited about meeting a guy who calls himself that.”

“I’m actually incredibly excited about it.  Maybe I need to come up with a cool name for myself as well.”