Author Archives: Burrowowl

Gorilla Man and M-11

There’s a lot wrong with American popular comics these days. DC‘s continuity is a mess. Marvel has its own issues with too much cross-pollination between titles in some places and a bizarre lack of connection in others (did the rest of Earth-616 notice a bajillion Nimrod super-Sentinels descending on a small island within sight of San Francisco?). One area in which they are thriving rather than languishing is in the campy — in an ironic, hipster way — old-timey heroes. Enter Gorilla Man and M-11 of Atlas.

Gorilla Man, AKA the Immortal Gorilla Man, AKA General Hale is a former soldier-of-fortune and big-game hunter that sought out immortality and got it, along with a curse to live forever as a talking Gorilla never to grow old or sick. M-11, the 11th in a line of Menacer Robots, was designed as a 1950’s sci-fi terror weapon with a death-ray visor and electric hands, but its creator instilled in it a free will and conscience. Each has a basic one-shot fantastic-tales premise, and each makes an excellent addition to the current Marvel line-up with its tangled web of interpersonal relationships and continuity baggage

The rest of the Atlas cast are endearing in their own ways, but M-11 and Gorilla Man shine a bright action-adventure light where the repeatedly re-imagined mainstays of Marvel just seem inconsistent and muddy when they’re mean to be gritty or dark. Daredevil’s friends are all worried about the morality of killing Bullseye (a supremely-dangerous sociopath with a history of murdering Daredevil’s loved ones). Nightcrawler couldn’t countenance Cyclops authorizing the use of lethal force after hundreds of issues of watching Wolverine put his claws through fools’ heads. When Gorilla Man picks up an assault rifle with his foot and mows down twenty goons, it isn’t grim, it’s awesome. M-11 rarely whips out his full-strength death ray, but when it does we don’t get five panels of crying over it; the bad guys had it coming and the story isn’t going to dwell on it.

I’m quite pleased to see Gorilla Man and The Uranian catch their own short-lived solo series, and hope to see one for M-11 some time soon.

Excitement Squandered

Three years and two months ago, I was pretty stoked about the prospect of a Starcraft sequel:

Blizzard Entertainment has finally caved in to the inevitable, and in a bid to preempt military action by a rabid South Korean fanbase have announce that Starcraft II is far enough into development for a web launch.

Back in the stone age when the original Starcraft came out, my coworkers and I would stay late after work for multiplayer games, eschewing Battlenet and its uber-teenagers. I never cared for the Protoss and their rather impressive end-game abilities, preferring to get the fight started relatively early on. Sometimes this resulted in accusations of “Zerg Rush” cheapness, but really it’s just part of the game; I could never mount a credible defense against a well-built carrier force.

I look forward to seeing what they’re doing with the Terran and Zerg units. Blizzard apparently wants to trickle new information out on a per-faction basis, starting with my least favorite. I can wait, though.

I understand the need to dial things in. I understand that balancing accessibility and depth in gameplay was a key factor in the staying-power of the original Starcraft title. I certainly understand what a joy it can be to deny a friend or coworker that last deposit of precious Vespene gas and pulverize his bases with artillery fire. What I don’t understand is how people could still have any excitement for Blizzard’s new opus a full three years after seeing it demonstrated. Basically everything I’ve heard folks raving about regarding new units and game features were already on the table in 2007.

There’s an old saying that the worst thing a political candidate can do is to peak too soon. This should apply to pre-release hype as well. I said I could wait, and I did. Now that I’ve waited, I’m pretty sure I’ve got better uses for my $59.99. Maybe I’ll report back in three more years when the price has come down. It is truly a testament to Blizzard’s strength as a brand name that Starcraft II isn’t the Daikatana of 2010.

Heroman

If there’s anything sillier than Japanese stereotypes about westerners (particularly Americans) in Japan, it’s Japanese stereotypes applied to westerners in their native environment. With a little assistance from the great Stan Lee, things hang together pretty well. Heroman is the tale of Joey Jones, adolescent loser, who finds a discarded robot toy that he patches back together. On the eve of a terrible alien invasion, the raggedy remote-control robot transforms into a hulking heroic figure, which Joey dubs “Heroman.” If you haven’t noticed yet, the names are awful. Awful even for a Stan Lee production.

The story takes place in an anonymous Californian city, so right away there need to be overcrowded freeways, skateboards, a beach, and black people. The main character is right out of Japanese love-triangle central casting, aside from the painfully-American name: he’s rather effeminate, shy, and unpopular. His main love interest is very baseball-and-apple pie in that she’s a blue-eyed, blonde cheerleader with an independent streak by the name of Lina Davis. Naturally she wears her cheerleader uniform everywhere. The small-time nemesis is her brother, all-American muscle-bound captain of the football team. He’s always wearing shorts and his jersey, a nod to the casual atmosphere expected of western schools. His henchman is short, overweight, and spoiled by wealthy parents. All very typical. Add in Joey’s buddy Psy (that really should read “Cy” as in “Cy Young,” but hey), an ambiguously-swarthy skater type with gigantic hair, and Professor Denton, the science instructor who accidentally brought the alien apocalypse down to Earth, and the cast is pretty much complete.

Heroman promises to offer some of the best and worst of two genres: heroic shonen anime and Marvel-style American comics. I specifically mention Marvel here, because there’s a certain flavor that Stan Lee is known for that shows up pretty well here. The classic distinction between DC superheroes like Superman, Wonder Woman, and Batman and Marvel superheroes like Spider-Man, The Incredible Hulk, and Iron Man is that while DC superheroes have superheroic problems, Marvel superheroes have mundane problems as well. Sure, Superman has to juggle his secret identity, but he doesn’t wrestle with that like Iron Man does with his drinking problem, or how Spider-Man struggles with his job and love life. Joey Jones has much more Peter Parker in him than Bruce Wayne. He’s a poor kid working a part-time job at a diner. He’s only got one friend at school is looked down on by his other classmates. He lives alone with his grandmother and pines over a photo of himself with his father.

Stan Lee doesn’t keep things entirely on the down-beat, though. In typical Japanese fashion, there’s a cute and popular girl that he likes, but in typical Stan Lee fashion she already quite clearly likes him. They take the obligatory romantic awkwardness of a made-for-Japan show and recast it. Joey’s not shy around Lina because he’s afraid she doesn’t like him. He’s shy around her because her big brother is going to kick is pathetic little loser ass. Basically Lina’s brother is to Joey what Flash was to Peter Parker. There’s nothing new under the sun, but that’s not a bad thing.

As for the superheroics, we get a toy robot that turns into a hulking armored robot that’s super-strong and brave and all those things Joey doesn’t think of himself as. Rather than piloting Heroman directly, or even having a remote control rig, Joey talks to it. The toy robot has a little remote control, but when Heroman transforms, it encases Joey’s hand and forearm, displaying an LCD interface. So far as I can tell, Joey doesn’t have a lot of direct influence over his superpowered buddy; a situation develops and an icon appears on the controller. Joey shouts something like “attack!” or “burst!” or “finish!” and slaps his free hand on the icon. Presumably he’s Heroman’s safety valve, or has an implicit veto authority.

Each episode ends with charmingly cheesy “to be continued” cliffhanger. This is a good thing.

Spoilers follow.
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Primary Propositions 2010

It’s June, that time of year when a Californian voter’s thoughts turn to ballot initiatives. This year we’ve got four items up for some direct democracy, propositions 13, 14, 15, 16, and 17.

Prop 13

No, not that Prop 13. This one seeks to change what amounts to an oversight that discourages landowners from performing seismic retrofits on some older buildings. Major renovations can cause a property to be reassessed at its current market value instead of whatever it was originally purchased for, which can deal a substantial hit to one’s bottom line. I’m in favor of seismic retrofits, and it looks like there’s no Trojan Horse going on here. I don’t know of anybody that’s seriously opposed to this one.

Prop 14

Open primaries. There’s a loaded phrase among the politically-enthusiastic. Proposition 14 seeks to allow all voters to weigh in on all candidates during the primaries, regardless of registered party affiliation. I’ve been against private clubs holding their little selection lotteries at public expense for a while now; I’m registered as an independent, so for years my primary ballots were mighty thin. The top two vote-getters would proceed to the November ballot.

There has been a bit of a fuss over this. We’ve got some very entrenched districts in the Golden State. There are areas where the Democratic candidate may as well not bother putting himself on the ballot; he’ll lose. In other areas, the Republican candidate faces the same sorry state of affairs. With only registered Democrats getting to vote for their party candidate and only registered Republicans getting to vote for theirs, we end up with candidates targeting very narrow demographics with their campaigns. In Orange County if you can get about 13% of the population to vote you in as the Republican candidate, it’s smooth sailing from there. This leads to some fairly extreme candidates from both parties.

The argument against Prop 14 comes in a couple of flavors: third parties will be shoved off the November ballot, the two richest candidates will go on to the general election, taxes will go up because we won’t have a minority army of Howard Jarvis‘s brainwashed sex slaves in Sacramento. Ok, that last was an exaggeration. To these I answer:

  • Minor parties don’t win general elections in California under the current system. By letting everybody vote, folks like the Peace & Freedom, Greens, and Libertarians have a greater chance of getting a toehold if they can field a strong candidate.
  • Right now, in most districts, the two richest candidates are from the same party and they duke it out in June only to coast through November in their comfortably-gerrymandered districts. Now they’ll get to square off in a bigger field. We’ll see how that works out.
  • Oh no, we run the horrible risk of some reasonably-moderate Democrats coming out of the Bay Area and some reasonably-moderate Republicans coming out of the Central Valley and Orange County. This could lead to reasonable policies and and functional state government. We run the terrible risk of getting our money’s worth for our taxes.

For those concerned that this may have a disproportionate impact for one major party over the other, please note that both cadem.org and cagop.org urge a “no” vote on this. I’m strongly inclined to vote yes on Proposition 14.

Prop 15

Proposition 15 seeks to establish public funding of some elected positions. This would be your standard “get the money out of politics” populist push. The affected positions would be:

  • California Secretary of State

and that’s it. Just the Secretary of State. As somebody that’s been a consistent participant in every general, primary, and special election since I turned 18, I find this to be ludicrous. Nobody’s buying the position of Secretary of State. There aren’t huge media wars over this elected position. I’d wager that most voters in California couldn’t describe a single job function of Secretary of State if you asked them on the way out of their polling places. I understand that this is meant to be some kind of a test-bed incremental approach to eventually divorcing special interest money from California politics, but applying it to a single position like this is half-assed, piss-ant, and not something I’m interested in supporting.

Prop 16

Proposition 16 seeks to address the problem of local governments taking over the electrical utilities, taking them from heavily-regulated bastions of free market economics to oppressive monoliths of socialist bureaucracy. Alas, this is a problem that isn’t really happening. Your city and county are broke. They aren’t going to buy out the electrical utility, and even if they do is that such a terrible thing? This proposition places a higher standard of public approval on starting a local utility than passing a constitutional amendment (still only 50% of the popular vote +1 in California).

Back in 2001 we had some Enron shenanigans, rolling brownouts in California, and a general failure of a regulated free market to deliver utilities to the people of this state. I know of a single municipal electric utility nearby: Healdsburg. They have lower rates than PG&E offers here in Santa Rosa, and had no brownouts. This proposition gives me the opportunity to require a public referendum (with a 2/3rd majority requirement) to get more reliable service for less. I see no good reason to vote yes on this.

Prop 17

Proposition 17 is like Prop 16 but with a potential for real impact on individuals. Mercury Insurance has run into some problems with California regulations that allow auto insurance providers to provide customer loyalty discounts but don’t allow competing companies to match a consumer’s existing loyalty discount. This means that if you’ve been with All State for ten years and want to shop around for better rates, All State gets a regulatory advantage to try to keep you.

To fight this, Mercury wants to be able to provide discounts based on continuity of coverage. If you’ve been with All State for five years, then switch to Geico for five more years, then seek to switch over to Mercury, you’d be eligible for the same discount as if you’d just stayed with All State that whole time. If you let your coverage lapse, the discount wouldn’t be available to you any more (it wouldn’t have been to start with, but this is the main rebuttal I’ve seen). Proposition 17 ostensibly opens up the auto insurance market to more aggressive competition between companies.

The catch here is that nothing changes about the regulations regarding the overall account balances of auto insurance companies. If a company gives away $10 million in discounts to one group of customers, they have to make up for that somewhere else on their books; that is to say they have to raise rates elsewhere to the tune of $10 million. In this case, any savings realized by the consistently-insured would be paid for by new drivers (with no insurance history) or those who have let their coverage lapse.

There’s an easy argument to be made that jerks driving around uninsured don’t deserve good rates after putting the rest of us at an increased risk. There’s also an easy heartstrings-pulling argument to be made that some people go without need of auto insurance for reasons outside their control. Maybe somebody’s job puts him in a position where he doesn’t need his own vehicle for a prolonged period. Maybe it’s a military deployment. Upon returning there has been a lapse in coverage, and our noble war hero is stuck with an inflated insurance bill.

This proposition has been largely funded by an insurance company looking to make a specific maneuver in the market, much like how Prop 16 is basically PG&E’s attempt to protect its monopoly. Prop 17, however, addresses a situation I actually see as affecting how Californians are getting by. This isn’t a theoretical bungled takeover by city or county bureaucrats; it’s a way that I might be able to shift a few bucks of insurance burden off to another demographic.

Power Girl 1-12

With Gray, Palmiotti, and Conner’s run now at an end after one full year, it seems like a good time to look back at Power Girl issues one through twelve. For those unfamiliar with the character, Power Girl is a female version of Superman that somehow avoided being Super Girl or Super Woman. With cleavage. There’s no avoiding that DC wants to put this character on covers to draw the eye of lonely young men and dirty old men alike.

My first recollection of her was from the old Justice League Europe series, where I recall her repeatedly provoking and being provoked by Guy Gardener. If you aren’t familiar with Guy Gardener, it suffices for my purposes to describe him as the chauvanist pig Green Lantern from the 1980’s. Power Girl and Guy made good foils for each other, because they have somewhat aggressive personalities, and both are derivative characters that refuse to behave like they are.

Anyhow, in 2009 a new Power Girl series came out that, like Terra before it, was co-written by Justin Gray and Jimmy Palmiotti, and illustrated by Amanda Conner. Also like Terra, it manages to side-step the landmine field that is DC’s continuity-porn train-wreckage of a history. This is an accomplishment given Power Girl’s role in the Infinite Crisis of Worlds in Crisis Infinitely. They simply and accessibly put forward a character that gradually putting her life together both as a super-heroine and a secret-identity entrepreneur.

The title goes through four plot arcs, tying up as tidily as if they expected the comic to be canceled entirely after its first year.

  • In Gorilla Warfare we see Power Girl face off against the evil Ultra-Humanite, a mad genius trapped in an albino gorilla’s body. He wants to perform a brain transplant operation, taking over Power Girl’s mighty Kryptonian body. Given the blatant cheesecake factored into her character design, this helps get the series off to a properly humorous start.

  • In Space Girls Gone Wild, Power Girl gets caught up in running battle between three alien party girls and a space-cop that’s trying to bring them in for justice. There are explosions and misunderstandings and everything is pretty light-hearted and funny.

  • One of the better stories I’ve run into in comics in the past yearh, Lust in Space has Vartox, a hairy-checked macho space-lord from a doomed civilization (the rest of his species has gone sterile) seeks out Power Girl for her… fertility. An excellent flip-side of the first plot arc, a well-intentioned but ignorant male seeks her out for pretty much exactly what you’d expect a free-love stud with an 80’s mustache and a speedo to want from her. There are explosions and misunderstandings.

  • In War on Terra, things come back around to the first story, with the villains seeking to turn Power Girl’s buddy and protégé Terra against her. Throughout the series Terra has been a frequent sidekick both in the super-heroics and civilian down-time, and we get the obligatory “what if they two of them turned on each other” scenario unfolding and resolving itself as you’d want it to. There are explosions but not so much on the misunderstandings

The series does a very good job pacing between rock-em-sock-em caped heroism and super-villainy and the mundane world of a secret identity. Early on, the secret-identity stories did an excellent job highlighting how superhero comics can be analogs to other tales, with the Ultra-Humanite mirrored nicely by an abrasive job interview.

Amanda Conner’s art is much as it was in Terra. The action scenes were enthusiastic and over-the-top. The characters were delightfully expressive, though there is still the tendency to draw pretty females strongly similar to each other. Conner can make two athletic young men look distinctive, but two attractive young women need to be distinguished by hair color and costume.

Due to the cheesecake factor, this may not be something you want up on your bookshelf for all to see, but it’s a fun read. There are a couple of scenes that depict brain surgery or somebody losing an arm a bit more graphically than you’d want from a kid’s comic, but otherwise this here’s a prime example of what used to be good about comics that mostly just doesn’t apply any more. This isn’t grim and edgy. It isn’t littered with big-name cross-overs. It’s just some good (mostly) clean fun.

That's a whole lot of pudding

It has recently come to my attention that entirely too many people are not familiar with LeVon and Barry. This is both unfortunate and unacceptable. I humbly present to you $240 worth of pudding:

The State was a scripted sketch comedy show that aired on MTV from 1993 to 1995 and featured a number of performers and writers who have since become a cornerstone of Comedy Central programming.

Blackboards are funny

I don’t particularly care for or about Glenn Beck. He’s some guy on a TV channel I don’t watch and I couldn’t even tell you if his radio program is aired around here; he isn’t on the crazy right-wing station I tune into for comedic value. That said, I sometimes see videos like Robert Greenwald vs. Glenn Beck or snippets of him crying or spewing some conspiratorial or inflammatory nonsense. Overall I get the impression that he’s significantly less interesting than folks like Michael Savage, who used to broadcast a local show in San Francisco before getting fitted for a proper aluminum foil hat and going national.

Watching the Greenwald video I got a nice little view of Beck’s blackboard. I wasn’t really paying attention until the phrase “Kids these days” popped up. Wait, what? This merited further scrutiny. Below I submit a masterful reconstruction of Glenn Beck’s chalkboard as carefully stiched together from screenshots of the Brave New Films piece:

Let’s look at some of the players here:

When are the people of the supposedly-respectable mainstream media going to realize that Glenn Beck has been trolling them? Clearly this is meant as a joke. Mr. Beck’s public persona is an Andy Kaufman performance piece writ large on the national political stage. Bravo, sir. You are a genius at your craft.

TL;DR Plan for California

The other day I actually heard a radio spot for Meg Whitman that wasn’t just a scurrilous attack on her Republican primary opponent Steve Poizner. I was taken aback. I nearly had to pull over. You see, Mrs. Whitman put out a forty-eight page “plan for California” outlining how she’s going to fix our state government. Previously all I knew about her campaign is that she historically hasn’t participated in politics even as a voter and that Steve Poizner is the anti-Christ or something.

I checked out her site this morning and found a PDF version of the document. I wasn’t sure what I expected, exactly, but it had a fair amount of stuff in it. Being the lazy citizen than I am, I hit ctrl+a, ctrl+c, ctrl+tab and went to Wordle to let it pare everything down for me. From the resulting graphic (above), I can deduce that the plan consists largely of Meg Whitman and the state of California, along with some new taxes from the government. Good luck with that, Mrs. Whitman.

*edit: After a little fun with sed, sort, and uniq on my commandline, I preprocessed the House Reconcilliation Bill to the point where Wordle could handle it. The following mess is without “common English words,” and I tried to get rid of some of the words like “section” and “subsection” that are just the legalese equivalent of hypertext:

Sorted with the command cat reconcile.txt | tr ” ” “n” | sort -fbi | uniq -c | sort -rn | sed -e ‘s/^[ t]*//’ | sed -e ‘s/([0-9]*) (.*)/2:1/’ with its output available here. I had a heck of a time getting sed to use the [:punct:] POSIX notation, hence all the parentheticals that slipped through the cracks.

*Edit again: The Senate version, after similar massaging as the reconciliation bill:

Trimming out some of the section numbers and words like “paragraph” and “subsection” reveals that there are a lot of damned typos in there. 845 instances of “seretary,” for example.

Building an Army through Aspects

My favorite trapping of the FATE roleplaying game system is “aspects,” descriptive traits that a person, object, organization, or whatever may have that can provide a mechanical benefit or hindrance when appropriate. This is an old idea, what with dozens of RPGs over the years having perks or flaws available during character creation, but with each being strictly beneficial or strictly counterproductive. Aspects could swing either way and depending on the circumstances a single aspect could swing either way. Temporary aspects could arise as consequences of various actions. They’re greatly versatile.

So when my D&D game went from railroad mode to sandbox mode (this was an explicit shift; I told them it was part of the campaign structure from the outset), the militia of the small town of Freehold needed to take root, to turn into a military power of some consequence. Since we were officially in a do-whatever-you-want phase of the story, I didn’t want to put any undue limits on how this was going to unfold, so I set aside the bulk of the 4th Edition D&D rules for an extended “skill challenge” built around the notion that the player characters would have the opportunity to boss around, assist, and train their town’s militia into something more suitable for a fledgling kingdom’s national security.

We started by each chipping in an aspect to describe the status quo of the militia. We’re not a bunch of indy-RPG pass-the-speaking-stick collaborative storytelling types as such, being firmly grounded in the tradition of strong-DM rule systems (where you ask the DM for facts about your character’s world instead of asserting facts into the setting). We got the following array of descriptors, which I think was accurate but pretty bland:

  • Redshirt
  • Cannon Fodder
  • Not in the face!
  • Better them than us
  • Survivor

A pretty sorry lot, all told. Clearly they were going to need some whipping into shape. Armed with a hex map of the area, a whiteboard with an open-bottomed table drawn onto it, and a cheap erasable calendar I picked up at the teacher’s supplies store, we set to work. The players could use their D&D skills to remove or add aspects to any number of militiamen, modifying their odds of success by spending additional time on their tasks. The default DC was 25 (these were 4th level characters, so we’re talking about pretty long odds), but I would reduce the DC by 2 for each additional day spent working on it, with a few other situational modifiers available. The players quickly set to work figuring out a strategy to minimize the risk of failing any of their die rolls, consistently aiming for extremely safe rolls.

To inject some degree of urgency, I planned on having an event happen at least once a month that would progressively indicate that something bigger than their militia could handle would come down on them if they didn’t hurry up a little.

After about two months, we ended up with the following twenty five-man militia teams:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20
Cannon Fodder
Not in the face!
Better them than us
Survivor
Disciplined Soldier
Blooded
Field Medic
Arcane Apprentice
Arcane Journeyman
Dirty Tricks
Holy Warrior
Juggernaut
Art of War

It quickly came out that “Redshirt” and “Cannon Fodder” were purely negative traits, and needed to be removed from pretty much the entire militia, that “Not in the face!” and “Better them than us” were a mixed bag, and that nobody wanted to lose the “Survivor” aspect. The player characters proceeded to pull teams of militiamen from patrol and watch duty to drum undesirable traits out and cultivate new desirable traits. The skill challenge aspect encouraged them to play to their strengths. Can you guess which groups received a lot of attention from the party Rogue? Or the Fighter with multiclassed Cleric? Or the Wizard?

I didn’t really know how this would turn out. Some possibilities that crossed my mind included that they would set some portion of the militia to work building fortifications or crafting new equipment for themselves. I suspected they would make diplomatic gestures towards a neighboring Halfling despot for some kind of mutual assurance pact or to hire mercenaries from there. Once my players got made up their mind to focus on whipping their cannon-fodder redshirts into shape, they stuck to it.

The good people of Freehold now have a spectrum of men-at-arms, united in an ethos of self-preservation. Half of them are characterized by excellent discipline, nearly half a well-versed in dirty tricks, and a handful have specialized roles that reflect certain facets of the party dynamic. These fighting men reflect their leadership, and for once I’ve got dozens of NPCs whose primary characteristics were far more the product of the players than of the DM. In a D&D game. How ’bout that?

Sharks Drinking Game

For a while now it’s been common knowledge on The Internets that every time Drew Remenda or Randy Hahn say the word “schnide” during coverage of a San Jose Sharks game, everybody watching the game was obliged to drink. Without getting too caught up in any particular game performance trend at the moment, what are our other drinking game rules?

I propose the following humble ruleset. Drink whenever:

  • Drew or Randy say “schnide.”
  • Somebody tries to take a run at Douglas Murray and bounces comically onto his own ass.
  • Jay Leach tries to pick a fight with somebody for standing near the Sharks goaltender.
  • Anybody in a chatroom or forum thread brings up “playoff mode” (good only once per game period).
  • Joe Thornton makes an unbelievably dirty play and gets away with it
  • Evgeni Nabokov buys his teammates an extra thirty seconds talking to a ref after an icing call.

Suggestions are welcome.