Windows into infinity

  

Every book is a window into another time, place, reality, or mind. 

Apparently, just over half of adult Americans read at least one book a year. That's terrible. Every adult should be reading at least a dozen books a year - minimum. Older adults read more than younger adults. Is that because older adults grew up with reading as the primary means of obtaining information and younger adults are accustomed to plugging their brain into a screen through which someone who has already evaluated and condensed the material can tell them what they think they should know? Or is it because reading books has become a completely foreign activity which they've never tried or from which they've divorced themselves?

I haven't been in a bookstore in quite a while. I can't remember the last time I was in a bookstore. The new books I get are almost all ebooks because they're cheaper than paper books, I can carry an entire library on my phone, I can change the print size, and they're easy to mark and search. Also, I just don't have room for more physical books. On the other hand, I don't trust the ebook supplier not to whisk my books away from for entirely arbitrary reasons.

 I know. As long as there are young women, romance novels will always sell. Of course, that doesn't help me. 

Here's what the Skynet predecessor says about which of my books you would enjoy:

The Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Series: This series is perfect if you love high-stakes fantasy set against real history. Expect dragon hunts, historical figures, magic artifacts, wartime intrigue, and a satisfying blend of action and character growth. The first book is a strong entry point, and later volumes maintain momentum while deepening lore. 

Smoke: If you’re a fan of hard boiled detective fiction—with witty narration, period style, and clever plotting—this one delivers a satisfying standalone mystery, mixing charm and noir intrigue.

 Justice in Season and Justice Resurgent: Great if you appreciate historical westerns infused with moral dilemmas, local history, and action grounded in real-world frontier life. 

 

I object

 

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. An evil soul producing holy witness Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! -- The Merchant of Venice, Act I, Scene 3.

I object to the subversion of good and evil. It has become popular to retell old tales and make the evil villain a misunderstood hero or heroine. Likewise, symbols of good are subverted to malicious ends. It's one thing for a character to attempt to make use of such symbology and association for his malevolent purposes--that's exactly what we expect from a great villain, as in Richard III, Act I, Scene 3:  

But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture,
Tell them that God bids us do good for evil:
And thus I clothe my naked villany
With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ;
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.

It's quite another to twist the story to make the villain the sympathetic hero of the story - which in turn, requires giving evil motives, self-serving aims, and other vices to the representatives of good.

We see this in the movies and stories which subvert fairy tales or other beloved stories to cast the traditional villain in the role of misunderstood and sympathetic hero. Witches, orcs, goblins, trolls, and other monsters were created specifically as representatives of profound evil. The trope is often said to "humanize" the characters. Do we really need to have evil humanized? Good must then also be "humanized." In other words, good becomes evil and evil becomes good. The proponents may call it "making things real" or mention something about bringing out the gray realism as opposed to the stark lines of black and white. Good and evil become less than opposites in favor of blended shades of gray.

Alexander Pope described that in his Essay on Man, Epistle II, and also wrote:

Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,
As, to be hated, needs but to be seen;
Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

We've been in the embrace for years.

Even Christmas horror movies and Christmas themed haunted houses rise from the polluted hues of the subversion swamp to upend traditional symbols associated with joy and the love of mankind in favor of fear, terror, and horror. Must Halloween's hand grasp to restrain the glad tidings of great joy? 

I object to the subversion of good and evil and the pollution of our happiest of holidays. Perhaps the subversive movement will soon run its course, but the taint will remain. It's easy to blend the colors to form the gray; it's not so easy to return the shades to their places. The classic tales had a purpose. They taught morality and virtue through simple, easily understood stories; that's why they've endured. If today's storytellers want to deal in shades of gray, let them create their own stories and characters instead of attaching themselves like debilitating parasites to enduring tales of the past.

I had some pithy thoughts that produced a witty phrase. I didn't write it down. I can't remember what it was. I know it wasn't, "Nobody is interested in your politics when you're coming through the broken window with your arms wrapped around a flat screen TV." I read that--or something like it--somewhere else. If I remember correctly, my thoughts had to do with the irony that protests against the lock down were discouraged and law enforcement was to enforce lock down and social distancing restrictions, and curfews were strictly enforced for reasons of public health, but mass protests and gatherings nominally against police brutality are encouraged and should not be obstructed in any way. While people trying to run business and support themselves and their employees were arrested and jailed, rioters and looters run amok with impunity. Funeral gatherings are restricted, and church services are prohibited for reasons of public health--except for a service for a victim of police brutality.

The mask has come off. The public safety wizards have been revealed as horses of a different color. The flying monkeys of social justice have irreparably damaged property, businesses and human life in their frenzy of destruction. We've seen the man behind the curtain and his name is The Great and Powerful Political Agenda. He's a humbug and a very bad man. Let's use our brains as well as our hearts, find our courage, click our heels together, and get back to Kansas. End the farce and march America toward the principles of freedom and liberty upon which it was founded. Back to work. Back to the protection of property, and economic and social freedom.

I've also been intrigued by the idea that some cities plan to disband their police forces. That's a proposal to throw the baby out with the bathwater--along with the tub, and burn the whole house down. There are endless terrible potential outcomes from that course. The very best that could come of such action would be:

Here endeth the rant.

***

Enough belaboring the obvious. I've got other dead horses to beat.

Clamorous Harbingers is finished at 124,000 words and change. I've proofed it once. I will proof it again before I make it available on Amazon. I still have to come up with the book description.

***

Fun Fact: 
By early 1775, militiamen were training in many of the colonies. Charles Lee, in a rebuttal to many who warned against war with Britain, called the redcoats "the refuse of an exhausted nation." He insisted that Americans "are accustomed from their infancy to fire arms," as well as being skilled with spades, pickaxes, hatchets, etc. Thomas Jefferson wrote at the time, "[F]ear ... is not an American art." The British leadership decided upon war. Nevertheless, the ministry did adopt the North Peace Plan, which would have abandoned parliamentary taxation of America in return for a pledge that the colonies would raise the revenue to meet their own defense and other governmental responsibilities. However, London would decide the amount of revenue with quotas assigned for each colony. The colonies would only get to decide the kind of taxes to impose upon themselves. The plan's purpose was to divide the Americans. While preparing the plan for the public, Lord North sent 3,500 more troops to the colonies, and directed General Gage to use vigorous force to seize the leaders behind the Massachusetts protest. Many dissenters in Britain argued against hostilities. General Gage warned that armed rebellion could only be suppressed by a very respectable force of regulars, and he requested significant reinforcements.

On April 19, 1775, Gage began a plan with two objectives. He sent troops to capture John Hancock and Samuel Adams who were thought to be in Lexington, and which would then continue to Concord to destroy stocks of rebel weapons and powder. He expected to have his troops back in Boston by noon.

Bond and Thor - because girl power

Every time word of a movie remake with a gender swapped lead appears, the articles praising it sprout like noxious weeds. The latest word concerns the upcoming entries in the Bond and Thor franchises.

This article explains that gender swap remakes have fared poorly in the past.

Some claim the continuing cavalcade of lame gender swap remakes is a sign of progress. Others say it's an indication that women aren't capable of carrying their own original movies and can only climb aboard franchises already made successful with male stars. See this article. Of course they're both wrong. It's only a sign of progress if "progress" is defined as failure to learn and insistence upon a false narrative. It's like claiming that communism just hasn't been implemented correctly yet, and it's going to succeed beyond our wildest dreams if we just get the right people in charge (meaning those who want to be in charge this time). As for the other claim, I believe women are perfectly capable of carrying a movie. This article even claims that movies starring women make more money than movies starring men. There is some fine print to read about what "starring women" means in the context of the study--because it doesn't mean what you think it means. I'm not going to argue with how the study defined "starring women" but it may be like "teen pregnancy" which drops off significantly after age 25 because the studies decided that "teen pregnancy" would be defined as pregnancy up to age 25. So without arguing, I'll agree that a female star can successfully carry a movie or a franchise with original stories. Of course, it all depends on the story, the script, the acting, and the directing.

Notwithstanding the fact that female stars can carry a movie or franchise, I'm of the opinion that most of us tend to get attached to the characters (and actors) in stories and roles that we love. We don't want to see them significantly altered. Although J.J. Abrams may have made many errors with his Star Trek reboots, he didn't try to makeover (bad pun intended) Kirk and Spock as women, or Uhura as a man. Anyone who wants to see through a glass darkly how badly that could've turned out need only watch a few episodes of Voyager--but I digress. Box office bucks don't seem to be the reason for such switcheroos because those movies are not box office successes. Is it possible that the reason is simply an expensive attempt to destroy something whose success is based upon (obviously and always toxic) masculinity? Or is it simply a political maneuver to raise awareness, to elevate the "woke" quotient? While it may well be the latter, it seems that the former may be the actual result. The wreckage leaves a pretty clear trail: Last Jedi, Ghostbusters, Ocean's 8, whatever that thing was/is with Rebel Wilson and Ann Hathaway, Overboard, etc. Replace the male leads with females and destroy the subject. (I'm aware that Last Jedi doesn't really fit this category. Rey was great, in my opinion, but the feminist/SJW freight train that drove through the middle of LJ left no survivors of interest for me in that franchise--so I admit including LJ in this list is sloppy on my part, but I'm entitled to rant outside the lines).

Also of interest is the fact that the gender swap tends to run in but a single direction. Until we see a Wonder Woman remake with a male lead...and I have no interest in seeing that either. Leave Wonder Woman as she is. I see no reason we can't enjoy The Six Million Dollar Man and The Bionic Woman. (Those of you under 40 may have to google those). She does not have to replace him to be successful and it's moronic to think that she does, or that she can effectively do so, and vice versa.

As for Bond and Thor... I suppose it could have been worse, they could have tried to give Bond a man-bun.

***

As for my work in progress, Power to Hurt (which no one will want to read after taking offense at the little rant above), I should finish the actual writing this week. That means 5K words or less should wrap it up. It's currently at 86K words and 90K is the new target for completion, but it may go as high as 95K.

Lost in Space (2018 episode 1) No Spoilers
(But with completely unnecessary quotes from Shakespeare's Richard II -- in italics)

After viewing the first episode, I have mixed thoughts about the show, but "To be a make-peace shall become my age." I was thrilled to see Toby Stephens in the role of John Robinson. I remember him from one of the James Bond movies, and from Vexed in which he played the charming and hilariously politically incorrect male chauvinist DI Armstrong. Naturally, I was disappointed to see, in this first episode at least, that he was relegated to fulfilling the role of the ineffective father who is only allowed to think and act for himself when his wife (some kind of scientist/engineer/astrophysicist/geologist/etc is unconscious); even then, it's the whining son who proves more useful than the father. It's as though John Robinson is forced to say, "I am disgraced, impeach'd and baffled here, Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear."

But before I go off on that thought, let me say that I liked the show. I will watch episode 2. Although the science is more fiction than science, and the script/story has holes through which you could fly a Constitution class starship, and even though I had to say to my disbelief, "Therefore, we banish you our territories," I found the episode imbued with a certain enchantment. The special effects were great but not overpowering; it never felt like those superhero movies that are currently popular where the effects rule and the actors are mere props.

Molly Parker plays Maureen Robinson. "Men are but gilded loam or painted clay," but Mrs. Robinson is some kind of wonder woman; although I didn't see a golden lasso. She apparently made everything happen while Mr. Robinson was away doing soldier stuff. June Lockhart (and Linda Carter) would be jealous. 

As for the Robinson children in this episode, we mostly saw Will and Judy. Penny was present, but she didn't really get to shine in the episode. Taylor Russell plays Judy Robinson. There may be some explanation about the obvious difference between her and the other children, but it wasn't given in this episode. I almost hope no explanation is ever given. Mina Sundwall has the role of Penny. I didn't see that she had the charm that Angela Cartwright brought to the role,

but it was only the first episode. I'm sure that future episodes will feature her talents more prominently. 

That leaves the boy whose name is associated with danger. Maxwell Jenkins has taken the roll formerly played by Bill Mumy (who has a cameo in the episode that took me by surprise). 

He was fine. He possesses that expressively childish face (he does have the advantage of being a child--but he really sells it with the eyes). On an unrelated note, that reminds me of what I really liked about the episode: no Fanning child screaming incessantly. Sure, it's a small thing, but it's something that I always appreciate.

If the show doesn't get to taking itself too seriously, I'll keep watching--but I won't be offended if there are no giant carrots or green women with salad bowls on their heads. 

***

And now on to the rant, but "Our fair eyes do hate the dire aspect of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword," so I'll keep it short and vitriol free. Let me speculate upon the demise of the American male (as portrayed on television)--without saying anything that hasn't been said more eloquently elsewhere. And I'm shooting from the hip here, painting with a broad brush and with half my brain tied behind my back. 

At one time father knew best--at least often. Ward and June, and Marcus Welby and Spock's mom, and Gomez and Morticia, and many others, typically worked together to solve weekly crises. Sometimes father knew best; sometimes Donna Reed had all the answers. Each parent had talents that helped the family. With the possible exception of Herman Munster, no parent was always the idiot. 

Then came one of my favorite childhood shows: Bewitched. Darin, no matter which Dick played him, was almost always an unreasonable idiot; only his beautiful wife's witchcraft could save him--although, it was usually the witchcraft that had originally caused to the problem. It was mostly downhill from there. Ben Cartwright may have been the last of the fathers who was always right--of course, we can't say as much for his sons. However, Pa Ingalls did a highly admirable job.

The effective father as portrayed in television series fell from grace. Eventually, he fell out of the show entirely. "For thee remains a heavier doom, which I with some unwillingness pronounce: The sly slow hours shall not determinate the dateless limit of thy dear exile." Single mom's ruled. They did it all; they didn't need men (and not just the men who prefer the alternate spelling of potato--which reminds me of two good rules: 1. Never bet against a Sicilian when death is on the line, and 2. Never argue with sitcom characters). 

So what does this have to do with Lost in Space 2018? Probably nothing. However, we might consider whether the relative ineffectiveness of the soldier-father (who doesn't do as the super-successful-scientist-wife commands) and the fortunate attainments of the whining, helpless boy-child embody the idea of the old school vision of masculinity being driven from the field, and the rise of that modern, childish, effeminate man who succeeds through obedience to the directives and teachings of the super woman.

***

I've got these leftover quotes from Richard II rattling around in my pocket. Because I like them and don't want to see them go to waste, I'm just going to toss them on the table for your enjoyment.


How long a time lies in one little word!
Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
End in a word: such is the breath of kings.


O, who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
O, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more
Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore.

Surprises, pleasant and otherwise

We left the Louvre, but I wasn't sure about our next move. One part of me wanted to find a nice restaurant in Paris where my last remaining wad of euros might be exchanged for a delicious dinner and memorable evening with my bride. I explained my dilemma. She didn't want to find a restaurant. We took the public transit back to the hotel. We arrived in a blustery storm --if that's not the name of an automobile, it should be. The tempest--which is a car name-- lashed us with the wet and windy fury of a thousand scourges. 

We made out way via the bureaucratic elevator back to our room. We had a brief rest, and perused the area for restaurants; it looked like we would have to take a taxi. The storm had ceased, but there didn't seem to be anything other than hotel restaurants within walking distance. We both agreed that we didn't want to eat at our hotel again. The rather bad experience associated with the meal from the previous evening stuck in our memories like a burr in a horse's tail. A short while later, we found ourselves, reluctantly, seated at our hotel restaurant--all of the other options involved more time and energy than we possessed. After traipsing around Paris all day, being taken in ambuscade, intimidating other would-be ambuscaders, repeatedly surmounting insurmountable stairs, wandering through museums, strolling down the Champs-Elysees, and otherwise rollicking and rolling in the history and scenic glory of Paris like dogs in a rotting deer carcass, our search for adventure had been sated; our get up and go had got up and went; our exhaustion rating exceeded our desire for more experience points.

We sat at a different table than we had the previous night. We were next to a window. Of course, it was dark enough outside that we saw little in the glass other than our own reflection. I don't remember now what I had to drink--I know that it was not Orangina. Our waiter was very nice; he was more comfortable speaking French than English. He helped me remember that the word for the bill was l'addition; by which I mean that I asked him and he told me. 

I had steak; I think my wife had the same. We really enjoyed the meal. Our expectations were guarded; by which I mean that we were just hoping not to be sick. It was really quite good. We were glad that we hadn't tried to go elsewhere. Was it overpriced? Certainly. Was it a great meal? Certainly. 

The most interesting part for me was when I took the bill to the register. A woman with whom I had spoken before was working at the register, and took my bill. Another woman who worked there walked up beside her and whispered in French, "Is this the guy you were telling me about?" I guess she either thought that that my French was so poor that I wouldn't understand, or that her whisper would not reach me. The first woman then whispered back, "Oui. C'est lui." I didn't have the nerve to ask what it was about me that they had found worthy of prior conversation. I'm pretending that it was my remarkable rugged good looks coupled with my boyish charm. I wasn't wearing the hat; so it couldn't have been that.

The meal had proved to be a pleasant surprise. The unpleasant surprise came in the dead of the night, ripping me from the comfortable and loving arms of that most pleasant of mistresses, Sleep. My bank called to see if I would like to take a survey about the kind of service that I had received in depositing a check the week before. I had the presence of mind to let the person know that I was in a foreign country, it was the middle of the night, and I did not want to take a survey. 

(Rant Notice: Pointless angry blather with no redeeming qualities follows). Of all the things that irritate me about the bank in question, the calls wanting to ask me questions about the service I have received are the worst. If I want to talk about the service, I'll call them. The calls always come at the most inopportune of times. If I could call the idiot who thought of that stupid survey idea at his/her most inconvenient time and badger him with a bunch of useless questions, I would gladly do it. I would love to have him drag himself from bed, stub his toe, bump his knee, and step on a LEGO on his way to the phone. I would ask if he would mind taking a survey about the interaction during my latest bank visit. Are the tellers able to read my signature without difficulty? Would they prefer that I turn to the left or the right as I lean on the counter while conversing with the teller? Are the camera's catching my best side? Is blue ink a problem for their scanners? On a scale of 1-10, how much would they mind never calling me again to inquire about my willingness to take a survey? 1 being, "Consider it done. It was a colossally moronic idea. We're sorry to have bothered you. It won't happen again." 10 being, "We're only in the banking business to cause you misery. We would like to shoot you in the eye with a staple gun and break your teeth out with an ashtray, but the lawsuits have forced us to settle for bothering you by telephone...forever."