Speak Stiltedly and Wear a Yellow Shirt

Jeff Percifield has a couple of good entries on the religion of peace: the religion of evil and the religion of child-killing. I commented in Lori’s blog on how the existence of religions (or sects thereof) that encourage the slaughter of innocent schoolchildren disproves the belief that all religions teach the same moral or spiritual values. If you’ll pardon a Chesterton quote:

Is one religion as good as another? Is one horse in the Derby as good as another?

I’ve reviewed the movie The Return of the King two and a half times already—once for the first time I saw it and noted all the plot problems, once for my second viewing where I appreciated the scenery, and half a time when I discussed M. Garcia’s opinion that heroic fantasy is becoming unfilmable.

I saw the movie again tonight; I think it was the final Noreascon event, though the con officially ended at 3pm. Some of the major plot changes still bothered me, especially Theoden’s “what has Gondor done for me lately?” line, the absence of Sam’s moment of decision over Frodo’s jaundiced body, and Denethor’s overdone insanity. I also had problems with Jackson’s horror style in the flaming palantir scene, the rotting, glowing green Dead scenes, and the unexplained pillar of light over Minas Morgul.

On the other hand, I thought Shelob was great. The “As you know, Smeagol” scene between Slinker and Stinker (Gollum’s two personalities) amused me as infodump, and I thought Gollum came off very well. I’ve heard that Elijah Wood can act, so I’m transferring blame for the failure of Frodo as a character from the pretty face to the script and the director.

But the little glimpses of the unfilmable heroic fantasy that wormed their way into the movie outweighed all the problems. Theoden’s “Death!” speech and Aragorn’s “not this day” speech are lovely. Even Gandalf’s speech to Pippin about heaven (which, in the LotR universe, he’s actually seen) is nice, mainly because those lines were stolen from an actual description of the way to Aman. Mainly, though, what appeals to me is the fighting and dying for a hopeless cause; the world is coming to an end and honorable men (not to mention the occasional honorable shieldmaiden and shield-hobbit) go out there and fight the overwhelming hordes of orcs and trolls and oliphaunts despite the futility of the endeavor. In fact, the Rohirrim seem to be enjoying it because it’s hopeless.

Hope is for wimps.

There was one Stargate (SG-1 and Atlantis) panel at Noreascon, and it was one of the most entertaining events I attended. Because most of the attendees I know are Real Writers, the comments on media fan writing have been snide at best, so it was great to see panelists get up in front of a huge room of people and admit to writing fanfic and lusting after Michael Shanks.

The most interesting comments were about the future of Atlantis—that the characters are blander than the SG-1 cast and the situation inadequately dramatic. More than one comparison to Voyager was made, and outside of VOY fandom such comparisons are not positive.

Unfortunately I had to leave right after the panel, so I didn’t get to meet my fellow SG fans. I suppose there’s always the Internet.

Now that was a crowd. The Hugo Awards were given out at Noreascon tonight, with only a few glaring technical difficulties. Though I’m not particularly thrilled by Neil Gaiman as a writer, he made a terrific Master of Ceremonies. He’s quite cute, and the accent doesn’t hurt, either.

I wouldn’t say that the best stories won, but at least the worst stories didn’t win.

WorldCon is big. Very, very big. And yet it’s like Boskone ate the little cake that said “Eat me” and grew to fill the Hynes. (The AC at Hynes was nasty; I think I caught something.) The schedule is similar to Boskone’s, but with more of everything.

Everything doesn’t seem to include TV fandom, unfortunately. If only I could find a panel of Stargate fans, I’d be in fan heaven. Instead I’ve been going to writer-oriented events—writing tips and general info (e.g., elves in mythology, cool science, etc.). I even ran into a fellow non-fen.

I went to a couple of readings: Connie Willis, who filled a small room, and Walter Jon Williams, who had just a handful of people in the same room. In a perfect world, WJW would be as popular as Connie Willis. I’d love to write like he can, and yet, it would be depressing to write like he does yet have so few people show up to my WorldCon reading.

Ballot stuffer of the day: Diebold

Mac links, old and new:

• Did you know you can wall-mount that new G5 iMac? I’m still waiting for the rumored Tablet Mac, myself.
• Crazy Apple Rumors has a fun take on the Paris Expo.
• Skype has come to Mac OS X.
• Camino is up to version 0.8.1.

It’s moving time again in Boston. Every spring and fall the dumpsters fill up with discarded furniture and the other detritus of migrant student life. Permanent residents pick through the leavings. Neon tickets for overflowing dumpsters collect on the doors of apartment buildings, though how they get back to the absentee landlords is beyond me.

This year, however, there’s a new participant in the dumpster-picking ritual: bedbugs. Allston is the hotbed of bedbug activity, but I spotted the new bedbug warning label [bottom of the page] on a lovely blue loveseat as far east as Back Bay. Somehow I doubt the Allston bedbugs are that close to Beacon Hill.

Gnomi provides a guide to Boston for the newbies, but she leaves out both the bedbug risk and another vital piece of information. As explained previously in this very blog, the wooden ties with long steel rods laid across them are train tracks. Trains run on them. If you are on the tracks when the train comes, you get squished. Surly T employees will have to scrape you off the rails, and that only makes them surlier.

I mention this because a New Zealander electrocuted himself at Haymarket station this weekend. The NZ news and the young man’s mother blame inexperience with the third rail of Boston transit. I fully admit that the DANGER THIRD RAIL signs are small and poorly-lit, and that they date back to a time when Bostonians were expected to read, understand, and obey simple English imperative sentences. Yet the unfortunate Kiwi does seem to have had a rudimentary knowledge of the English language—certainly enough to handle “no trespassing” and “danger,” if not up to the subtlety of “third rail.”

In any event, the argument from ignorance is bosh. Matthew Gallagher died because he was walking on the train tracks. The third rail was merely a complication—a bonus, if you will. The MBTA cannot save people from their own stupidity. Bad Transit should be recommending a Darwin Award for Gallagher, not a lawyer.

Tasteless Toy of the Day: the 9/11 toy (via Backspin)

Magister Mundi sum!

Which Weird Latin Phrase Are You?
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Seema blogged recently about what makes a successful blog, but I think a bigger question is What makes a successful blogger? Forget about the fame - what makes one blogger happy and the next one frustrated?

I was writing to a friend who’d burned out on blogging about the flood of information that any blogger faces. Even if you’re just blogging about your own personal life, there are 24 hours a day of that to be distilled into a few paragraphs of blog. The secret to blogging joy is being able to write exactly as much as you want to write to convey what you want to convey.

Maybe you have deep ideas or maybe you have cutesy links, maybe you want to keep your finger on the weak pulse of the MBTA or be an alpha geek content provider. But there will always be more ideas, more links, more T derailments, and more geeking. You have to draw the line somewhere, and do it without guilt.

That’s where the little psychopathy comes in handy. Once upon a time, blowing people and responsibilities off was considered impolite. Now it’s expected and necessary. The internet is a world of procrastinators, where only the most interesting things get done, and whole websites, fandoms, and people fall by the wayside when the interest wanes. You won’t be happy on-line unless you can put off answering email or blogging that so-so blog entry indefinitely (which is to say, forever). You need to be one with the asynchronous nature of the net, which is to say, you have to be able to procrastinate your troubles away or you’ll get an ulcer.

The net belongs to the slackers.