A few more HP series links and debates. I'm not necessarily agreeing with all of the content of all of these links, but all of them have interesting things to say.
R.U.I.N.S. Can't Stand Deathly Hallows thread. An ongoing forum discussion of Deathly Hallows and the other books from several angles. Small but thorough. The link takes you to the 7th topic, you can move back and forth from there.
Daniel Hemmens at Ferretbrain comments on Chapters 1 - 12 of Deathly Hallows. I don't agree with everything Hemmens says, but it's humorous.
Red Hen Publications essays on the Potterverse. Mostly very long treatises on what was left OUT of the books. Conjecture and implication, not fanfic. Hard site to navigate, check out the sidebar.
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I have been searching, ever since the last book came out, for other Harry Potter fans who disliked Book 7, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I've read the book through a few times, and it gets worse every time. It's garbage. This is not the kind of thing you say on even the most neutral HP fan site. You will get death threats. But surely I could not be the only HP fan on the planet who didn't like the final book and didn't think it was even written very well?
Finally, I found via the Confused Matthewforum a link to a Youtube review of Book 7. These guys pretty much nail my thoughts on Deathly Hallows, except for the section on scenes Rowling left out that they would have liked to see. I don't care about that, whether I agree or not. There's also a section in the second video with one of the reviewers upset that his fanshipping didn't turn out the way he wanted. But the rest of it is right on.
I mentioned a few posts back that I was reading a fanfic titled "Shinji and Warhammer 40K." This novel-length offering by Charles Bhepin takes the story of Neon Genesis Evangelion and tweaks one "minor" detail in Shinji Ikari's past. Bhepin's purpose appears to be to present the NGE story with a different Shinji, one who is truly a hero and mankind's savior rather than, well, what you get in the story.
POSSIBLE SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT
As presented in the anime, Shinji Ikari was abandoned at a very young age by his father Gendo to an unnamed aunt and uncle after the "death" of Shinji's mother Yui Ikari. This leaves the boy with massive emotional and psychological damage. When the anime starts, Shinji, now eleven, is effectively a hollow shell. He feels unloved, unwanted, useless, and has practically no sense of self at all. From this point, the anime tells the story of man fighting desperately for it's own existence against invading space monsters called angels. In the end, after all of the backstory; the betrayals and secret plots, have been revealed, the future of the human race (maybe) is left in Shinji Ikari's hands (maybe) and he has to fall back on everything that happened to him during the course of the series to make some enormously crucial decisions (maybe). All of the "maybe's" are because the ending of the series (supplemented by rewrites and two movies, and a current retelling via movies) is an ambiguous mess. What I summed up above is one possible (and simple) interpretation of the ending. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about.
NGE is one of the more important and influential anime series ever produced. It's not necessarily the best liked; in fact Evangelion would make the top ten hate list of many anime fans. Lauding the merits of Evangelion (as well as taking the opposite tack) is one of the biggest hot-button issues in anime fandom. I personally love the show, while acknowledging that the story is full of holes, the production is a mess, and it's possible that you may wish to commit suicide after a viewing. The bottom line for me is that I can see greatness peaking out from behind many corners in NGE, and I can really glom on to the massive epic taking place behind what is actually shown
One of NGE's biggist faults, it's gaping plot holes, is also it's greatest asset. So much of the series is left unexplained, or is explained by characters who are shown repeatedly to have imperfect information or an agenda that prompts them to lie about the backstory; that the viewers can easily, if they wish, provide the details themselves. It is entirely possible to change almost anything in the given story without actually screwing with established canon. In fact, this appears to be the deus ex machina Charles Bhepin uses to re-tell the first half of the series. You could watch large portions of the series as reference material to Bhepin's work; the changes he has implemented all occur behind the scenes or at the level of subtext. This part of "Shinji and Warhammer 40K" I quite enjoy. In the second part Bhepin strikes off on his own on a quest to provide an entirely different ending to the series, and this part doesn't do very well. Instead of working within the boundaries established in the first part, the author intentionally devolves his epic into a pun-a-minute commentary on anime and fan-fiction tropes. As I said, Bhepin does this intentionally (according to his notes); unfortunately I feel he lost something great when he moved the series in that direction.
However, the first half of "Shinji and Warhammer 40K" provides not only a funny but fascinating "what if"; it actually tells the NGE story in a much more appealing way. All of this, initially, is accomplished simply by providing a Shinji Ikari who is not *the Shinji*.
I didn't really include many spoilers, I guess. Bhepin's work is incomplete, but he has apparently spent the last few years editing the earlier parts of the story. I do in fact want to know how he ends the series, as the current stopping point feels very much like the end of the second act in a three part epic. I definitely recommend a reading, especially if you want to dig a little deeper into the original story or if you would just like to see Shinji Ikari as a true, intentional hero.
I like Uncyclopedia. If they would get their sh*t together, the site could challenge The Onion and other related sites for sheer witty, satirical brilliance. Unfortunately, they also feature many entries that are comprised almost entirely of joining random strings of curse words and sexual paraphernalia to form in-cohesive and unfunny diatribes.
But sometimes, you get something amazing like the entry on Global Warming:
Global warming is a fact (or a theory, or a theology) over which humankind has come to unanimous agreement with unprecedented speed. The Earth is warming, or else it's cooling, or else it's not doing either very fast. If left unchecked, this will lead to the destruction of civilization, probably, in a Biblical flood that will happen around 1995. Humans, prosperity, rich diets, breaking faith with Nature, and anything else you may feel guilty about, are the cause of the phenomenon, or else it's sunspots, and it might be totally random.
And:
Scientists first observed global warming in 1895. Then in 1920 they said it was global cooling. Then in 1935 they said there was global warming, but then in 1975 they said it was the verge of a new Ice Age but then it became global warming again. But that is all old news. Let's stop talking about discredited work and move on to the real history...
And:
The scientists' eyes met and they knew they were all thinking the same thing: A soft life through endless government research grants. Lifetime sinecures not just for cousins of legislators! This was the first case of scientific consensus. In fact, science previously had not been conducted through votes and consensus at all. These scientists reached an equally unprecedented conclusion that has echoed through legislative hearing rooms ever since: The science is settled!
Nothing I wrote, of course. While I have a keen interest, I'm just not that good of a writer. However, quite a while back I found this link via Kaedrin. It's a good read for any scifi fan or political student. The article investigates the history of Science Fiction and the genre's implicit political bindings.
Probably. Anyway, I've always been a big fan of David Lynch's Dune. Although I owned the book, I never read it until a few years ago. Going back and watching the movie again...well, yeah, there were some problems...but the movie just FELT like Dune. I tried to watch the miniseries a year or so ago, and just couldn't get into it. I talked about it here. I really need to give it another try, but in the meantime, here's someone else who generally felt the way I do:
I enjoyed talking with my grandfather on many occasions prior to his death and, not surprisingly, our conversations often strayed into the realm of his greatest creation - Dune - and its marketing to the general public. There were many times when Grandpa laughed about this, because he saw Dune as something unique and far removed from the marketable world. Later he began to realize Dune wasn't just unique but was a parable of human life that would endure thanks to the very things the book preached against. The making of the 1984 movie (directed by David Lynch) seemed the epitome of one of Dune's no-no messages [that of creating a cult following of one man or his vision - Editor]. So if you chuckle a few times while reading this, rest assured that Frank Herbert would probably be laughing right along with you.
The man in the utilitarian, white uniform went to the bar, and tapped the counter to get the bartender's attention. He said something, probably ordering a drink, although she couldn't make it out from across the room. However, as he spoke, the man in white slightly jerked his head torward the back of the club; the management alcove. Ryan, the bartender, responded to the order, probably repeating it, she thought; but also very quickly shook his head: No.
That she hadn't seen this man before, or this particular exchange, didn't surprise Tania too much. Her relationship with the club was informal; she wasn't in here every night. But this guy was intriguing. He was youngish, no more than thirty, and looked like a repairman. But it didn't look like he was here to work; he had brought with him no tools or equipment.
The repairman had his drink now; clear and bubbly. Tania decided to head for the bar and see if Ryan would tell her what was up. She gathered her things and circled around the floor on the stage side, in case the man in white headed for the alcove while she was en route. Even then, by the time she reached the bar, he was gone, his drink sitting where he had been standing. She quickly turned and scanned the room, and thought she saw the white uniform moving opposite of her, near the steps to her dais, heading to the management entrance. He must have circled clockwise. The man in white never looked her way that she had noticed; Ryan must have seen her coming and sent him around the long way. But why?
Tania sat down by the man's drink, which was half gone. Looking over her shoulder now, she saw that the man himself was completely gone. She turned her head to stare at Ryan, letting him know she wanted to talk, without drawing attention to the fact. Ryan glanced at her from down the bar, took a deep breath and seemed to hold it in for minute, looking down at the bar. Was he going to try to ignore her? But then he turned, grabbed a bottle of vodka from a low shelf (which meant it was cheap, and therefore, hopefully, free), and a brandy glass.
Ryan stopped in front of her, set the glass down, and splashed two fingers of vodka in. He then bent over the bar, looking for all the world like he was about to chat her up, and said quietly, with a fake grin but no anger or anxiety, "Ok. Go ahead."
Tania raised her eyebrows. "All right. Who..."
"No one." Ryan interupted, but again, conversationally.
"The guy..." she tried to continue.
"No guy." Ryan supplied this time.
"In white..."
"Didn't see him."
"Who just went..."
"And neither did you."
"That's his drink!"
"Nope." He lazily picked up the man's abandoned glass, and took a sip. Still grinning, as if they were having a wonderful little tet' a tet'.
"You're not supposed to drink on the job."
"Soda and lime."
"Really."
"Want some?" He offered the drink.
She took it, tentatively, and sniffed. Lime. Carbonation almost made her sneeze. She sipped.
"Soda and lime," she said.
"Soda and lime."
"This is your drink? That's what you're saying?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Not..."
"You see anyone else here?"
"I don't see men in white?"
"What men in white?"
"Do I talk to men in white?" She was grinning now, too. She felt like she was in a Red Scare spy movie from the eighties.
"I don't." Ryan took another sip.
"As in 'don't talk' or as in 'don't talk'?"
"As in," said an amused voice beside her, "you can't talk to someone who isn't here. Is that right, Ryan?"
Tania jumped, looked to her right. The man in the white jumpsuit had come up and sat down without her noticing. Ryan cleared his throat and tapped her left wrist sharply, causing her to jerk her attention back to him. His face was in the same position, still staring straight at her, still grinning.
"There's no one there, remember?"
Tania's smile began to droop. What the hell had she gotten herself into?
5) Garlic is not an issue. If you were allergic before you were sired, you may now eat or smell safely. It will, of course, still affect your breath.
6) The Cross, as in any Crucifix or Christian symbol depicting a cross or specifically the Crucifixtion of Jesus Christ, has no inherant affect on you, unless you are a violent atheist or member of the ACLU. Your religeous beliefs are your own concern. For those of you who are interested in your role in the natural universe, you may call a Service operator to receive a recommended reading list by email or post.
7) Somewhat pertinant to the previous point, there are those who will not react favorably should they discover your new lifestyle. At best, even those you love and trust, quite simply, won't know how to respond to your disclosure. SDS, Inc. tried a family counseling program at one time, but it didn't go over very well. And, as vampirism isn't taken very seriously in the public mind, we must recommend that you keep your condition to yourself when amongst the uninitiated.
Continuing with this issue, there are in fact still some people in the world who actively hunt, with the intent of killing, vampires. They are rare, and generally highly misguided. Unfortunately, popular fiction does not paint vampires in a positive light: world conquest is generally the order of the day. Falling short of that, the average vampire is depicted as a lawless, amoral hedonist. Now, these are certainly options, but we must remind you again that it is generally to your favor to keep your identity quiet. Regarding the hunters; they are few in number, and not typically effective, as their methods tend to be dictated by the more violent flights of fancy idolized by their fictional heroes. The Service attempts to stay abreast of their activities, and will warn you if we feel you need to exercise caution in your daily routines.
9) When you learn how to transform into a bat, wolf, formless mist, or juniper tree, you can share with the rest of us. Seriously, how are you supposed to turn into a bat?
10) Vampires are not inherently magical in any way. Sorry!
11) You can have sex, but it takes some effort and practice. Your body doesn't respond as well to sexual stimuli as it once did, being dead. It is effectively impossible to procreate.
12) Feeding: SDS will provide all necessary blood and relevant nutrients. Your canine teeth, you may have noticed by now, have responded to the same genetic impulse as your eyes and have grown out a bit. While dental work imitating "vampire teeth" is very popular at the moment, this image may be incompatible with your lifestyle. If you would like to have your teeth fixed, SDS can recommend a qualified and discreet surgeon. Although, for emergency purposes, we generally recommend that you keep your canines at least somewhat elongated, and sharp.
The lead singer was obviously trying out for Green Day, just in case. The guitarist apparently had tried to channel Jimi Hendrix's technique while emulating Keith Richards' laid-back style, but kept getting it backwards; he looked like Eddie Van Halen on a mood swing day. The drummer grew up on 80's hair bands; he wailed away at the cymbals while flinging hair-spray-smelling sweat into the crowd. She was sure the bass guitarist was throwing in Crash Test Dummies licks.
Overall, they were a good emo-rock band.
The pretty brunette ran a finger down a strand of black ribbon hanging from her thick hair, rolling out the drummer's sweat, wondering if it would make good mousse.
The crowd was light; twenty-somethings and a few teens congregated in loose groups, most of them sitting at cafe booths arranged around the walls. Just enough bodies to dampen the horrible acoustics of the room. Just enough noise and movement to keep people from getting too bored and watching the service areas of the club.
Tania watched the service areas of the club. She was mature enough to be bored by the "scene" and pretty enough to get free admission and drinks from hopeful employees or other club-goers. She was also observant enough to notice when someone spent too long in the bathroom or wandered down the wrong hallway. A few months ago, she had tipped a bartender off to a group of casual-looking headbangers (which should have been enough of a clue, she thought) who needed to use the men's back restroom frequently with many different people. The new manager had been thankful, and continued to be thankful with $50 bills whenever she "observed" something new. She watched video monitors for the Transit Authority during the day, which didn't pay as well as most people thought, so the new night job was useful.
At the moment, Tania was hoping the flash of red she had noticed in the crowd a few minutes ago wasn't the nylon jacket of an acid-tripping punk who had been escorted from the building last week. She had noticed him discreetly displaying the interior of his jacket to various people. The punk may have just been proud of the stitching in the lining, but Cap and Bongo, the head bouncers, didn't bother asking.
But, Cap was off today, and his backup was new. Bongo might miss an obvious repeater, especially if red jacket came in with one of larger groups.
Tania was in the back corner of the club; a converted an expanded Denny's resaurant. The back corner was a step-up area with cocktail tables and bar-stools, removed a bit from the main area, more popular with the older and more sedate clubbers. Her back in the corner, she could see the hallway to the front bathrooms in the opposite corner, the entrance down the wall to her right, the bar running along the wall from the front bathrooms to the rear bathrooms, and the stage to her left. Between her throne and the stage was a hard-to-see alcove that let into the management and maintainance areas of the club. She kept her head down, feigning reading a Thor comic book while she scanned the main floor.
She heard voices moving closer; a quick glance to her right revealed three young men, not regulars, taking seats at one of the cocktail tables on the dias. They took turns sneaking peaks, their conversation would stop whenever one of them shifted his eyes in her direction.
Shit. When you're pretty enough to get in free and get free drinks, you're pretty enough to have to fend off the chimpanzees when they attempt a mating ritual. They weren't wasted yet, she would have to be subtle. She faked a startled expression, quickly looked down to her right, then left, and pulled her cell phone from a jacket pocket.
"Hi, honey!" she gushed, just loud enough to carry to the oglers. "How was your day? Fifteen arrests! You must be in a lousy mood by now! Why don't you come down to Ninety-Nine? I was just having a drink on the way home, a couple of screwdrivers will calm your nerves. Good! I'll see you in a few minutes! Love you!"
Tania tapped the phone off, gave it a loving look, and slipped it back into her pocket, then made a show of primping. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her would-be admirers bang their heads together; one of them jerked a thumb towards the bar. They vacated the dias without another look to the corner. Hopefully, they would leave before she had to back up her bluff with one of the security guys in the back.
She was distracted from the three retreating backs by a splash of unusual (for Ninety-Nine) color at the entrance. A man in a white service uniform had entered the club. The band's confused guitarists decided it was a good time to perform a duet between Mark Knopfler and Brian May.
Vampires In The Twenty-First Century, A Primer
Revision 3.5A
Welcome, initiate! As you will discover soon, vampirism is a wonderful lifestyle to pursue. Now, it is true that you may not have asked for this pathway to be opened to you. However, Service Delivery Services Corporation, or SDS, or more commonly "The Service", as most describe it, prides itself on helping your transition regardless of the circumstances of your arrival. SDS will be a continuing asset in your life, should you choose to avail yourself of all our services. We'll cover these in detail at a later time, though; for now you need to know a few basics.
A supply of blood, enriched to your needs, has undoubtedly been left with you by this time. You should be aware of this, as this pamplet is freqently left with the initiate at the time of the Service's first delivery. If you are not aware of this delivery, please check your refrigerator now; we imagine you're quite hungry.
Now, a quick list of important facts:
1) Vampires are not immortal. You can die; repeated research shows that vampires age just as mortals, only much more slowly. Sooner or later, your body will wear out, although some manage to hang on even after that. Of course, you can be killed, as well. We'll talk about this in a minute.
2) Vampires eyes are very sensitive to light; this appears to be a genetic trait of vampirism that will activate over the next few weeks, although some vampires seem to have a higher tolerance than others. The initial instinct of most initiates when they discover this problem is to withdraw into the dark, which only exacerbates the problem. Get several pair of nice sunglasses and take whatever steps you can to get used to it, is our advice.
3) The fundamental issue with being a vampire isn't the blood-drinking, it's the fact that you are mostly dead. The sensation in your nerves is greatly reduced; your control over your musculature is almost completely lost, you get the picture. You can hurt yourself very easily when your body doesn't stop you from over-extending yourself. The positive side is that the intelligent vampire can reasonably and safely push himself or herself well beyond the limits of mortals. Think of it as leperosy, with side benefits.
4) As you may have guessed, it's not all that hard to kill a vampire. A wooden stake through the heart will do it; it kills most living and other semi-living beings, after all. For that matter, anything that fundamentally disrupts the flow of blood through your vital organs will kill you, as it would anyone. A wooden stake that does not functionally impair your heart, however, won't kill you. In fact, you won't feel much pain (limited nerve response, remember?) and you will suffer very little limitation to your mobility. Remove the stake, don't worry too much about splinters, your body is mostly dead. You will heal up, typically, in a month or two. If you're in a hurry, SDS can recommend a number of discreet surgeons.
Steve the vampire laid the glossy brochure on the counter.
"Huh."
He turned, opened the fridge, pulled out a shiny object that appeared to be a juice pouch. It looked like something you would find in a hospital room, except for the straw taped to the back. Steve pried the small straw off of the package and popped it out of the cellophane wrapper. Flipping the package in his hand, he was surprised to see a sticky-tape label with simple, black typeface: T.A - VitEnA.B.C - MangoBerryPink.
The punch slammed him into the wall. He opened his eyes; saw a leather boot coming down fast. Lunging along the wall, the man in white felt the kick connect with his knee; heard the loud crack; screamed.
Laughing. The bastard was laughing at him now. Don pushed up with his hands and nearly collapsed again when the pain in his knee doubled. He checked that his tongue was secure, then gritted his teeth hard and fought his way up, pushing back against the wall, lifting with his good leg.
His .45 was on the floor, empty. A foot away, the limp body of Tania, maybe still breathing, her black skirt torn and arrayed carelessly, laying high on her thighs. Her face was angled away from him, and covered by her still-glossy hair and a strand of black ribbon.
Don cast his eyes quickly around the floor, seeing nothing useful. The vampire stopped laughing.
"I've been told you were a good delivery man, Donald. A real favorite of the initiates. It's too bad you're employment has to end this way...the service has a wonderful retirement plan."
Don shuffled along the wall, his eyes on the vampire, his hands feeling for any defense the bricks might offer.
The vampire didn't bother watching him. The injured knee effectively prevented escape. He examined his fingernails, looking detached.
Don's right foot hit an obstacle, and the shock to his knee almost caused another yell of pain. he looked down, his eyebrows arching a bit. Once again bracing his muscles against the pain, he slowly lowered himself down on his left leg.
The vampire finally turned to Don, a slight grin on his face. The grin faltered slightly as he watched Don painfully straighten up and face him; the vampire's face reflected in the zinc studs of Tania's bat, now held by the man in white.
Don flexed his fingers, tensed and relaxed his biceps. His face was taught and trembling as he shifted his weight onto his injured right leg, adjusting his stance. Don's lips were pulled back, his teeth bared and grinding tightly.
"If I'm going down," the delivery man's voice was hoarse. "I'm going down swinging."
Continuing with this issue, there are in fact still some people in the world who actively hunt, with the intent of killing, vampires. They are rare, and generally highly misguided. Unfortunately, popular fiction does not paint vampires in a positive light: world conquest is generally the order of the day. Falling short of that, the average vampire is depicted as a lawless, amoral hedonist. Now, these are certainly options, but we must remind you again that it is generally to your favor to keep your identity quiet. Regarding the hunters; they are few in number, and not typically effective, as their methods tend to be dictated by the more violent flights of fancy idolized by their fictional heroes. The Service attempts to stay abreast of their activities, and will warn you if we feel you need to exercise caution in your daily routines.