David Berger's Blog, page 10

October 28, 2012

Cthulhu Lives—My Necronomicon 2012 Experience

Necronomicon Shirt Logo 2012 • Click for more info
Before I say anything about my experience in general, I need to offer some thank yous to some truly inspiring people I met at Necronomicon 2012. These people provided me with wisdom, knowledge, friendship, and will even be new muses of mine: Brenda Cothern, T.S. Robinson, Bill Hatfield, K L Nappier, Lucienne Diver, JM Bolton, R.M. Garcia, Kat Heckenbach, , and Storm Moon Press (Saundra and Roger Armstrong, and Kristina Piet).
Please read their books!
Where do I begin... first, I have to say that I was made to feel like part of the Necro family from day one when I met Brenda. She greeted me openly and helped me understand how things worked at the Con. First impressions mean a great deal, and this one certainly made me feel welcome. After that, I met author after author, participant after participant, who just made my experience worthwhile.
Panels. Well, they were certainly something I never thought I would enjoy, but I liked being in the spotlight, albeit for 55 minutes with other people. I found I had much to say for most of the panels (see my prior post for the list of panels I attended) except for Military SF. I think, because my novel has 'Task Force' in the title, I was selected to be on the panel. The other gentlemen there were much more well versed in the military themes in sci-fi (not really fantasy) and gaming. Ah well — it was an experience I needed to have. My time on the LGBT panels gave me more confidence to be an out gay man, especially with total strangers. After a few panels, audience members approached my table, complimenting me on comments I had made, and some even bought books because of that. Even though panel time means I don't have table time to promote and sell books, spending time with the groups on the panels helped shape my understanding of the Con culture.
People. I had met Lakisha Spletzer earlier this year at a library book festival here in Land O' Lakes, and seeing her again gave me at least one person I knew in case I had a problem. Although I haven't read her works, from what I have seen I will enjoy them, so when I have more reading time, I plan on getting a few under my literary belt, so to speak. Congratulations to her and R.M. Garcia, another author who she had met at the Con last year—they got engaged this year at Necro. One of my table mates who sat across from me in the hotel, T.S. Robinson, not only provided me with a 'comrade-in-arms' as a fantasy writer, but also as an invaluable resource of information for table bling (how to decorate my table) as well as being a better salesman.
I have so many ideas for next year. I want to Necronomicon 2013 to be an even better experience, and I have much to do.
It's approaching 11 p.m., so I will have to add more later.

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Published on October 28, 2012 20:06

October 23, 2012

UPDATE: Necronomicon Panel Details!

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Published on October 23, 2012 20:46

October 17, 2012

NEW: Glossary of Immortals — FREE!

To help readers of Task Force: Gaea with knowing more background of "who's who," they can download a FREE PDF download of Glossary of Immortals , a brief overview of just who the gods are, complete with pronunciation guide.

If you encounter a problem downloading the document, please email me at tchrofengl@gmail.com.

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Published on October 17, 2012 07:10

October 9, 2012

Pssst! Sneak Peak at Memory's Curse...

<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"ＭＳ明朝"; mso-font-charset:78; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;} @font-face {font-family:"ＭＳ明朝"; mso-font-charset:78; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-520092929 1073786111 9 0 415 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870145 1073743103 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"ＭＳ明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} span.normaltextrun {mso-style-name:normaltextrun; mso-style-unhide:no;} span.spellingerror {mso-style-name:spellingerror; mso-style-unhide:no;} span.eop {mso-style-name:eop; mso-style-unhide:no;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"ＭＳ明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page WordSection1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;} </style></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Here's a bit from the sequel of Task Force: Gaea—Finding Balance. It's a work in progress, but it'll give you a taste of what's coming:</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">A swirling blackness, Nyxmoved and shaped herself in ways that would stagger the mortal mind, collapsing into eddies of dark, living clouds, ready to bear her offspring implanted in her by Olympos’ adulterous king. With the catacombs of the dead for her nursery, Nyx wanted to bring forth her daughter in the company of the agonized, pitiable souls of those who had never made it beyond the gates of the underworld; they had much to offer her child. Suddenly, almost as if she had forgotten her role in the cosmos, her surging form shot forth toward the exit of Tartaros, a cave entrance kissed by the air that mortals breathe. As she neared the opening, bright Hemera, the day itself, descended into the deepest Hadean depths, and both Protogenoi, the primordials, touched ever so briefly before Nyxbubbled forth into the air, becoming the blanket of obscurity over part of Gaea—Night and Day in a forever dance. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Taking her place in the sky, Nyxfelt it was time: her daughter would enter the world in a way no other elder god had. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">• • • </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Megara, Greece. 1000 B.C. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Screams of torment and railing pain cut at the air like talons, ripping apart the peace of the healer’s tent in the cultist’s sanctuary, a humble place here in the mortal world where those afflicted by madness came to embrace the darkness of Nyx. A woman, crazed with murderous thoughts and tortured dreams, reclined on a woven grass mat, her wrists and ankles bound with worn leather straps anchored to the ground to prevent her from hurting herself—or others. Her eyes as black as Erebos, the darkness itself, she became the ideal choice for this birth, a living receptacle for Nyx. Her madness would mix well with the darkness. Ancient primordial entered her human host and the body took on the pregnant form, bloating the abdomen with life. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Soon, echoing cries interlaced with unintelligible mutterings escaped the woman's lips while the healer, his white chitonstained from years of patient’s blood, knelt ready to extract the newborn, eager to come forth; he was certainly ignorant of what would come. He preferred the crimson patches on his garment, to help him remember each forced amputation or sutured wound, usually brought about by a stony fragment or stick used during an arcane ritual to Nyx. This cult was bound by anarchy, it would seem, and spontaneous fights were common. Night incarnate had selected well, largely to reflect the chaos within, but also to see what it would feel like to push her progeny forth as a mortal would. That connection to humanity would prove so very useful. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Following a pain-induced shriek, a volcanic spray of blood and placenta erupted forth as the part human, part primordial being pushed her way into the world of Humankind without the benefit of the healer’s aid. Wiping the sanguine discharge from his face, the healer caught a glimpse of this child, and as he felt his psyche melt, he gouged out his own eyes with his fingers, mumbling as his intellect fragmented, foaming at the mouth like a rabid beast. A mortal mind could not comprehend such a primordial in her true form. Soon, he lay still, and the entity hovered over to the lifeless body, draining it of whatever soul still remained as a child takes sustenance from its mother. Not even Hades would want the remnants of the empty corpse, as it had no spirit to wander the underworld. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Nyxexited the woman’s spent body—now a lifeless, vacant shell—and coalesced around her daughter, ready to take her back to Tartaroswhere the newborn would mature among the imprisoned Titans, Gaea’s children buried beneath stone and Zeus’ curse, and there she would feed off ancient energy originating from Khaos, the mother of the cosmos herself. In such a place of despair, this child would find solace near yet another tomb, a place no mortal could ever see, and no god would ever go. She would grow accustomed to the dead chill of whose presence no one spoke, for fear even mentioning the name of he who was buried there would rouse him—Kronos, the Titan king. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">As the Moiraewove the fate of Humanity and the gods, so too did they forge the path of those who outranked them. Part of Fates’ tapestry would form a path for the daughter of Nyx, whom she called Lismonia. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Bony fingers on the loom, bound by duty and a yearning, trembled with each pass, and the fabric it brought forth for Zeus' daughter bore the color of blood. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">• • • </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In Tartarosonce more, Nyxawaited the return of Hemera, bright Day, so she might become the night sky, an eternal balance she had struck when Gaea was young. While Lismoniadrifted around the Titans’ rocky tombs, she absorbed even the faintest traces of energy from within the encasements, energy tainted by hatred of the other Olympeiangods—especially Zeus, her father. She felt their rage, their unremitting, seething rage against the youngest son of Kronos. Like mother’s milk, this life force leached through the stone into Lismonia, and her cloud-like, tentacledform roiled like a storm-battered sea with every acerbic drop. Each of the Titans, left alive but entombed within Gaea’s shell, remembered the day Zeus’ scythe took their lord’s life, returning his energy to Khaos. Each remembered the sacred pact of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, the one that turned their own mother, Gaea, against them. Mother Earth was nothing if she was not loyal to prophecy, the very one that foretold of Kronos’ demise by his son’s hand. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Lismoniaglided further away from her mother, tumbling over the rock-strewn floor until even she felt the gelid tomb, the one place in all of creation not even the gods visit. Surrounding the earth sarcophagus, she waited to feel that familiar electric sensation of life, but... nothing. Her frustration subsided as she comprehended what she had learned from the Titans: Kronos, the son of Gaea and Ouranos, the king of the Titans, truly was no more. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">• • • </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">After her feeding, she wanted to explore her new home, like any curious child, and found the path to the place where she knew she could find the one she needed to meet, the one she needed to see, the one she needed to kill—Zeus—for he not only had abandoned her mother, as he had so many others, he was despised by the Titans, and it was their hatred that fueled her. The journey to Olymposfrom Tartaros, even for Nyx’s daughter, would take time. Immune to mortal constructs, she could not be bound by chain or rope, by solid or ether, but time had neither shape nor form, matter nor mind—and it could affect her. No matter, however. She would eventually reach the sacred mountaintop, and she would ensure that Zeus understood what it meant to abandon her. Making her way through Hades, though, would teach her much, if nothing else, how nourishing souls could be. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Through the fields of gray asphodel, Lismoniawended her way, rolling like a black tide. Spirits of the dead—pale mist swirling with no human resemblance—paid her no mind, neither knowing nor caring who she was, and they continued to wander through the fields as the billowing daughter of Nyxwafted around them. Near Hades’ palace of inky marble columns, striated with wispy bits of white, she stopped, looking like a storm cloud that had lost its buoyancy. This was Hades, she thought, the underworld where the dead found their solace or their suffering. She had already felt the deep, aching torment from the Titans, raw emotions able to carve into the densest stone, and now she felt at home. Onward she moved, undulating, rolling across the realm, finding her bearings, until she saw her kin. Hovering on scaly black wings behind the Hall of Judgment, their arms and legs entwined with serpents, three sisters tormented a human soul not yet ethereal, but not corporeal. Having drowned his newborn child, this once mortal would go to Tartaros, forever enduring punishments not fit for humans to comprehend. Such was the will of Rhadamanthys, Aeacos, and Minos, the three judges of the underworld. Each had been a son of Zeus and mortal, rewarded for his good deeds with this post, and so they spoke in one voice, “Tartarosshall lay claim to you, and none shall discern your screams amid those whose voices you join.” </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Despite lacking a corporeal body, this former human felt every talon strike ripping through what remained, every snakebite and the venom each released, every contemptuous gesture, and he would never again know peace. One of the three winged goddesses, Tisiphone, took perverse pleasure in bringing anguish to him, the murderer of the innocent; the other Erinyes, Alektoand Megaera, assisted in his torment. Daughters of Nyx, by Ouranos, and sisters to Lismonia, they only relented when their cloud-like sibling moved closer. With only thought, she conveyed her contempt for Zeus and all of Olympos, relaying how the god of the sky had abandoned their mother. She was going to Olymposfor a reckoning, to tear down the oligarchy of the gods one by one, starting with her father who had wronged the Protogenoi. Lismoniahad few emotions known to her for one so young, but the Erinyessaw her pain, felt her yearning. To demonstrate her desire, she swirled around the tortured soul before them, exacting her own revenge on him for his heinous crime. None who knew him would ever remember he existed—such was her power—but his spirit would remember the egregious harm he had done to his infant girl. How fortuitous, Lismoniathought, that he had tripped on a stone after committing the deed, cracking open his skull. As his blood leached into the earth, Hermes dragged his soul to the underworld to face judgment. And now what was left of him went to Tartaros, to endure whatever agony he deserved, knowing no one would ever mourn him or feel the finest shred of pity. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Lismonia took her leave of her sisters, heading directly for the caverns that stretched out beneath Mount Olympos. Magaera and her sisters followed. Surely the daughter of Night would lead them to glorious and plentiful torment.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com...' alt='' /></div>

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Published on October 09, 2012 18:07

October 7, 2012

Fond Memories of Books in the Basin Festival!

Ellen Sweets, author of Cooking with MollyFriday night was the author reception at Odessa College, where we all convened over hors d'oeuvres and beverages to kick off the festival. I met a few of the authors, namely Chris Ruggia, a comic book artist/writer from Alpine, TX, and his wife, and the author of a book about Molly Ivins, Ellen Sweets. Ellen and I had a lovely time chatting, and I knew from that moment I had found a kindred spirit.Saturday morning, we started the events with a Breakfast with the Authors at Dee's Bistro, a lovely continental breakfast of fruit salsa with cinnamon chips, biscuits, gravy, sausages, bacon, and pastries. Each author sat at a table where others could join and chat, and I met Steve Smith, a sci-fi fan who suggested I read works by Larry Nivens and others. Joining us at the table was Mark, a friend of Randy and Tom's I had met last spring during my first visit to Odessa, and later, Ellen joined the table for a bit. After the breakfast, we all convened in our respective places, so I ventured over to Lincoln Tower, a senior residence, where tables were set up for self-published authors, like me, would be sitting for the day.
Chris and I shared a table, and he, his wife, and I spent much of our down time chatting about a wide range of topics, and I thoroughly enjoyed our conversations. They're both down to earth people whose paths I hope to cross again someday. Throughout the day, I spoke with about ten different people who seemed intrigued by my book, and I ended up selling six books (I had only brought five, plus one I had signed for someone who never paid for it). One of the orders involved selling a t-shirt, too. My last customer of the day was a lovely, intellectual woman who was a former teacher, and she so enjoyed that I had written a book using Greek mythology that was geared toward older readers. Wen I told her the book the last book I had had already been signed for someone who never paid for it, she said she didn't mind and purchased it regardless.
Chris and I purchased books from one another, and I look forward to seeing more from him in the future. His works are about indigenous fauna near Big Bend, and they're comics with a universal appeal.
At 2:30, I spoke with a small crowd about my novel, the process it took to make it to print, my inspirations, researching ideas, etc. All in all, a learning experience.
I also took away a few other lessons: have more table bling, bring more books, and drink fluids throughout the day.
The festival ended with an interview of Karen Valby, author of Welcome to Utopia, at the Ector Theater, followed by the film, The Last Picture Show. Beyond that, dinner with Randy, his partner, Tom, two other friends, Corby and Rett, and Ellen Sweets, who is quite the riot. Her quick wit and intelligence remind me of Maya Angelou, and Ellen has sass to match.
I would like to thank all the volunteers and everyone else who helped Randy make the event such a resounding success. My trips to Odessa never disappoint, and I'm sure that I will make it out again, perhaps for One Book Odessa. :)
Here's a link to the article by Corey Paul in the Odessa American published today.

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Published on October 07, 2012 16:07

October 6, 2012

Fond Memories of Books in the Basin Festival!

What a rousing success this weekend's Books in the Basin was here in Odessa, TX! When my friend, Randy Ham, invited me to be one of the forty authors in attendance, I was quite flattered to be a part of something so prestigious, and this was the inaugural festival for the city of Odessa as well.
After a bit of a rough start to the weekend (flight delayed Thursday due to thunderstorms over the airport meant taking a flight Friday morning), I arrived in Odessa no worse for wear and ready to help Randy with whatever he needed to prepare for this event. His entire crew of library volunteers worked tirelessly to make sure this was going to be a success. I have to say that I was quite impressed with their eagerness. Randy and I worked on final placement of tables in a senior residence across the street from the library (part of the inclement weather contingency plan) since the weather today was supposed to be cold and possibly rainy. I was probably more moral support than anything, but I think he was just glad to have a personal cheerleader.
Last night was the author reception at Odessa College, where we all convened over hors d'oeuvres and beverages to kick off the festival. I met a few of the authors, namely Chris Ruggia, a comic book artist/writer from Alpine, TX, and his wife, and the author of a book about Molly Ivins, Ellen Sweets. Ellen and I had a lovely time chatting, and I knew from that moment I had found a kindred spirit.
This morning, I sat at my author table with Chris, and we spent much of the day chatting with one another when people weren't at our table. When Chris was off perusing the festival, I chatted with his wife, a lovely woman whose first name escapes me at the moment. Throughout the day, we all had some intriguing conversations that helped pass the time. Throughout the day, I spoke with about ten different people who seemed intrigued by my book, and I ended up selling six books (I had only brought six). One of the orders involved selling a t-shirt, too. The people I spoke with who ended up buying books were quite intriguing people as well from all walks of life. Chris purchased a book from me (and I, in turn, purchased one of his).
At 2:30, I spoke with a smal crowd about my novel, the process it took to make it to print, my inspirations, researching ideas, etc. All in all, a learning experience. I also took away a few other lessons: have more table bling, bring more books, and drink fluids throughout the day. The festival ended with an interview of Karen Valby, author of Welcome to Utopia, at the Ector Theater, followed by the film, The Last Picture Show. Beyond that, dinner with Randy, his partner, two other friends, and Ellen Sweets, who is quite the riot. Her quick wit and intelligence remind me of Maya Angelou, and Ellen has sass to match.
I would like to thank all the volunteers and everyone else who helped Randy make the event such a resounding success. My trips to Odessa never disappoint, and I'm sure that I will make it out again, perhaps for One Book Odessa. :)

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Published on October 06, 2012 21:21

September 30, 2012

Bioshock—One of the Greatest Sci-Fi Games of All

The following is a guest post by Sci-Fi Bloggers. Sci-Fi Bloggers is an online magazine covering all things science fiction and fantasy: movies, TV, books, video games, comics and more.

Bioshock was released in 2007, making it a bit dated now. However, it is still well known for having one of the best storyline twists in gaming history (no spoilers here). The Bioshock franchise is still operating, with Bioshock Infinite currently scheduled for release on February 26th, 2013. However, the reason the franchise has been so successful is of course due to the original game.
Bioshock tells a chilling story as the protagonist (you) is in a plane crash and ends up entering the underwater city of Rapture. The story immediately drags you into the setting as you go underwater. Everything feels like something out of the 1920s-1940s and that image works really well with the game, just as the choice of radio music did for Fallout 3. You receive help from a man who talks to you over the radio, whom you only know as Atlas. He helps you survive conflicts with splicers, people who have rewritten some of their genetic code and essentially gone crazy in this destroyed city.
One of Bioshock's defining and most remarkable aspects is the concept of the big daddy and little sister. Little sisters are little girls who have the ability to harvest adam, which is used to rewrite genetic code and make yourself much more powerful. By taking the adam from these little sisters, you're able to upgrade yourself with abilities like shooting bees from your hands or taking less damage from enemy attacks. Bioshock however, presents you with a choice, do you destroy the girl and get a lot of adam, or rescue her, turning her back into a normal little girl and harvesting less adam in the process? The choice is yours. Whatever you decide though, in order to get to a little sister you have to go through the big daddy. Big daddies are massive beasts in old school diving suits. These behemoths can absorb a lot of damage before they go down and have absolutely no problems dishing it out, making them the toughest enemies in the game. Once you beat the big daddy though, the little sister is yours.
Bioshock is a game that really proved that the single player experience still isn't dead in gaming. As much as multiplayer games have taken over the gaming industry (for good reason) there is still a lot to be said for those single player games that are just so much fun you play them over and over. I've personally beat Bioshock five times, let me tell you, Bioshock 2 doesn't hold a candle to it. Bioshock's game play is very unique (or was) and it's story and characters were fantastic. In many games, you find things like audio tracks and other such things. Bioshock is probably the only game I've ever played where I actually listened to the audio tracks. The voice acting was well done and the dialogue was interesting. Some of those audio tracks are just so disturbing and wonderful and help you delve just that much deeper into the game. For example, the audio tracks "The Iceman Cometh" and "The Wild Bunny".
I would definitely recommend picking up a copy of Bioshock. It's a wonderful game and it's not very expensive anymore. Not only is it engaging, thought provoking, and sometimes outright terrifying, it's just plain fun. It's one of those games you can lose track of time playing and come to six or seven hours later and realize you still don't want to stop. So play it, especially if you're considering getting Bioshock Infinite. (You can skip Bioshock 2. It's good, but it's not THAT good)

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Published on September 30, 2012 20:07

September 28, 2012

It's Official!

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Published on September 28, 2012 20:52

September 16, 2012

Batman's Greatest Foes

The following is a guest post by Sci-Fi Bloggers. Sci-Fi Bloggers is an online magazine covering all things science fiction and fantasy: movies, TV, books, video games, comics and more.
Batman has one of the greatest rogue galleries in all of comics. The Joker. Two-Face. Penguin. Catwoman. Even people who don't read comics know these iconic characters. But who do I think is the ultimate villain in Gotham City, the one master criminal who rises far above the rest to bring pain to Batman and his never ending struggle to protect Gotham? Read on. Two-Face

There is one reason why Two-Face is one of Batman's most dangerous foes, and he was once an ally. He was once a righteous district attorney by the name of Harvey Dent, helping Batman and Jim Gordon clean the mean streets of Gotham City. Until he got acid thrown on half of his face and went insane. After that moment Harvey Dent was no more, and a new persona took over, one by the name of Two-Face. He blames Batman for the terrible turn that his life took and seeks to cause him pain whenever possible. Itís the tragedy of the character of Harvey Dent that makes Two-Face a compelling villain. Joker

Everybody knows who the Joker is, but not where he came from. The mystery surrounding his origin is part of what makes the Joker so terrifying and compelling. He is the polar opposite of Batman in many ways, the antithesis to everything Batman does. He's also one of the most brutal criminals Batman has ever faced. He beat Jason Todd, then Robin, to death and crippled Barbara Gordon with a gunshot to the spine, and Batman will always remember the events as two of his biggest failures. Bane

Few villains have accomplished what Bane has. Bane became obsessed with defeating Batman, learning his identity, his habits and his patterns. He waited for months for his plan to exhaust Batman to come to fruition. Then, when the moment was finally right, he snuck into the Batcave and he did the impossible; he broke Batman, mentally and physically. He took the Dark Knight out of the picture for a significant amount of time. That is no small feat, and in my book places Bane as Batman's deadliest foe.

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Published on September 16, 2012 20:03

September 11, 2012

Necronomicon, St. Pete, FL—Where I'll Be!

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Published on September 11, 2012 20:52

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