Author Archives: Kevin McFadyen

About Kevin McFadyen

Kevin McFadyen is a world traveller, a poor eater, a happy napper and occasional writer. When not typing frivolously on a keyboard, he is forcing Kait to jump endlessly on her bum knees or attempting to sabotage Derek in the latest boardgame. He prefers Earl Gray to English Breakfast but has been considering whether or not he should adopt a crippling addiction to coffee instead. Happy now, Derek?

Novelber… Nanovember…

I can’t really come up with a witty title here.

You may notice things awfully quiet on the somewherepostculture front. It is November and for many, that means growing a moustache in support of prostate cancer. Most of us here already have one, however, and sadly it’s not for charitable reasons but because we’re dirty, unwashed swines. Except swines can’t grow beards. Hm…

Accessed from http://cavalierhousebooks.com/nanowrimo

NaNoWriMo advisory. You can follow, join and support NaNoWriMo by visiting their site: http://nanowrimo.org/dashboard

Anyway, November for us means lots and lots of writing as it’s National Novel Writing Month (also affectionately called NaNoWriMo). All of us are busy pounding away at keyboards to get words into documents that, unfortunately, don’t really get posted up here for your amusement. I would have liked to have some articles saved up to post in lieu of actually focusing on the site but, alas, I was ill-prepared for this annual event.

However, Kait and Derek were equally ill-prepared so at least the blame is diffused amongst the three of us.

And yes, this is a long winded way of saying there’s probably not going to be any updates for the next two weeks until we get some loads off our plates. For that, I apologize on behalf of all the somewherepostculture website.

See you in cold, blistery, wintery, snowy December!

The Alliance of the Century Part 2

So, I may have gone overboard with my prior post and ended up writing way too much about something that I haven’t even gotten my grubby hands on. So, instead of editing it down like a reasonable person, I split it into two parts. I’ll repeat my warning in the last post, just in case people forgot it. This is all purely speculation based on the cards revealed during the sneak preview on Plaid Hat Games website. I have no great insight into the game beyond what I’ve learned through playing with my kin. That said, my judgments are still good, damn it!

Summoner Wars and its art belongs to Plaid Hat Games and Cupidsart. Find Alliances at their website http://www.plaidhatgames.om

Summoner Wars and its art belongs to Plaid Hat Games and Cupidsart. Find Alliances at their website http://www.plaidhatgames.com

5. Fallen Phoenixes

I don’t care for the undead. I don’t really care for haughty elves either but at least they have the decency to look pretty. Unless they’re the Phoenix Elves. Then they have nothing going for them.

The Fallen Phoenix faction is… interesting. The Phoenixes trick was that they alleviated the inherent randomness of Summoner Wars by making many of their units hit for their strength in damage without needing to roll. The Fallen Phoenix take this idea and balance it. Now they have “precision” only when Immortal Elien spends magic to increase their die roll. So, you can still be screwed by bad rolling but if you’re David Windrim and rolling in the money, you can just throw enough magic at it to make the problem go away. 

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The Fallen Phoenix are the only faction to get really picky about what their abilities target. Good, old Karthus here only grabs Fallen Kingdom units from the enemy’s discard pile. Thankfully, alliance units count as both factions so out of the box there aren’t any worries. It’s an interesting idea though the execution is kind of a mixed bag.

The biggest downside to the faction, however, is that they are costly. Not only do you want a large pool of magic of Immortal Elien’s “cheating” but all three of his common units cost 2 magic. He wants lots of magic to kill things and he needs to kill things in order to have lots of magic. There’s a slight way for the Fallen Phoenixes to skirt around this. A few of their events have adopted the Fallen Kingdom’s raising of the dead though the triggers for these abilities are often rather specific and finicky. Karthus can pull your units but only from your enemy’s discard pile and if you pay for them. From the Ashes can pull them from your own discard but only if they’ve been killed by your units (and only those associated with the fire elves). 

They’re strong but pricey and require just the right set-ups in order to excel. On the plus side, they have better all around options and Forced Conversions and Purge can really open up an opponent’s defence to let you break through and strike with those unerring Phoenix attacks.

6. Vargath Vanguard

Revenge of the ugly goats.

I like the idea behind the Vargath Vanguard but I can’t help but feel they’re a faction designed to make their parent factions better than to actually offer a good deck on its own. Moyra is a poor man’s Sunderverd. Seriously. Her special ability lets her grant 1 strength and 1 extra movement to a single common each turn within two spaces of her. Sunderverd gives all your commons 1 strength when close to him. The question here is whether 1 extra move is worth 2 overall strength. 

Nay, I say. The Vargath Vanguard are all about positioning with all of their units getting stronger the closer you bunch up all your guys. But this sacrifices board control in order to make your units more powerful. Unfortunately, Moyra doesn’t really offer her units that much in terms of events or even her presence. Throw all her troops into Sunderverd and you’d have a much stronger deck. He allows repositioning with Muster and Fall Back. Greater Command lets him extend his influence to four spaces. Sure Superior Planning and Toradin’s Advance are dud events and while Moyra’s are stronger I just don’t think they’re strong enough to lose what Sunderverd offers.

And that is three cherubim attacking for 3 strength each turn. The largest failing for the goats was that in order to succeed they had to march themselves and their summoner across the board into enemy territory. Unfortunately, walls make it effortless to raise an overpowering defence that will chase them away. Now, Sunderverd can create a Roman Phalanx of impenetrable troops which loose endless volleys upon their enemies. Two cherubim sandwiching a defender gives both of them the Shield of Light power. Stick a crusader behind one and they’re under constant Blinding Light. Yes, both of these can be mimicked or played by Moyra but these effects don’t stack and are easily replicated by commons alone. 

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Moyra. I want to love you because you don’t wear boobplate. Unfortunately, it’s just not working. I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s me. (It’s totally you, you useless woman!)

That is kind of Moyra’s problem. Her strength is solely in her exportable cards. Her event suite isn’t terrible. It’s just unfocused. Lightning Strike is great but you only have one. Change Form is wonderful but incredibly time limited (to a single turn and thus very susceptible to Mimic as you must hold on to the event until the proper turn). Divine Intervention is not something you want to play if you’re planning on running Moyra in with Change Form and there situations where you want to trade summoner health for common health is pretty limited. Even more disastrous, her only healing option is Father Benny which, thankfully for Sunderverd, can also be carried out from her deck.

The Vanguard Vargath are interesting but ultimately underwhelming in all but the cards which will be poached by the Vanguard and Mountain Vargath.

7. Deep Benders

If Moyra was suffering from burglarizing then it’s an absolute epidemic of Endrich. The Deep Benders seem to have the opposite problem. They weren’t designed to make the Deep Dwarves or Benders better but to not be obsoleted by their powerful constituents. The Deep Benders offer an interesting mechanic with Boost but, unfortunately, the execution leaves something to be desired. 

The general idea is that Deep Bender commons is kind of the inverse of Filth mutations. You can summon them on the cheap in order to get a mediocre unit or you can pump them up to make them really strong. Of course, you’re investing magic either way but you’re deciding at the point of summoning whether they are cheap or powerful.

Unfortunately for Endrich, he is entirely replaceable. His unique ability is a worse version of Sorgwen. Yes, you can combine the two to get a bonus two extra attacks after the attack phase. Unfortunately, Endrich has to be close to his target, they have to be boosted (thus restricting him to just the three commons in his deck) and you have to pay for it! Course, Endrich starts on the board but that’s less of a problem when you are Tacullu and can just search for Sorgwen with an Hero is Born event. Not to mention that Endrich can’t use his ability until he starts getting boosted units so he can’t double attack out the gate either (which would require building a magic pool as well anyway). 

Nearly everything about the Deep Benders feels “balanced for Deep Dwarves and Benders.” The Owl Gryphon has lots of exacting requirements so he doesn’t combine with Tundle’s meditate. Which is irrelevant since Tacullu is going to be the one to grab the Gryphon in order to make him one of the top decks. The actual interacting with boost tokens is mostly in the commons themselves, which is Moyra’s issue. Endrich has a couple of interesting economy cards to try and play with the boost mechanic but it ends up being irrelevant because Tundle can meditate for his economy and Tacullu can grab the Owl Gryphon for his (on top of both generally playing incredibly defensive). Endrich, on the other hand, loses if he attempts to play defensive even with the Owl Gryphon being overpriced and useless on his arm.

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Ugh, the Deep Benders are so infuriatingly bad, I’m just going to stick a Swamp Merc event card here instead. Look, it’s a worse version of Magic Pulse!

Basically, the stars need to align in order for the Deep Benders to win. They need to establish an economy advantage with opportune plays of Unlock and Reclaim then push that advantage with a fast assault from their Deep Dragons, Geopaths and Keodel. Course, this opens them up to the age old problems of turtling play. Magic Drain will cripple him and Endrich relies on his units for board control and economic tempo. Any event that outright murders his boosted commons will swipe what economic advantage he can wrangle with his boost tokens. And, ironically, Tacullu can just mind control his units if they try to assault him for a truly crippling economic swing that Endrich can’t respond.

Oddly enough, the overbalancing of the Deep Benders was directed at the summoner and his events when it should have been focused more on his units. It’s incredibly odd how poorly designed the Deep Benders appear especially since the route to take was done on the Cave Filth and Sand Cloaks above. Make them based around their Boost mechanic and the commons will be less valuable for the parent factions. Give Endrich lots of advantages for using boosted units to discourage him from poaching the super strong commons from the Deep Dwarves and Benders. Then you would have differentiated summoners without potentially unbalancing the game.

Instead, we have a summoner that looks underwhelming but brings lots of incredibly powerful tools to the factions that already held most of the good tools in the first place.

8. Jungle Shadow

Well, someone had to be on the bottom.

If Endrich and Moyra’s issues were lackluster abilities and events, Melundak’s is exactly what I rambled about in their entries. The Jungle Shadow have, by my estimation, the worst suite of units in the Alliance box. Granted, they don’t have the worst card, that still belongs to the Tundra Guild scribes, but their shadows, stalkers and shamans are certainly vying for that position. 

The biggest issue with Melundak’s army is that they’re money pits. All three commons require extra expenditure of magic. To haste, spend 1 magic. Want to make your stalkers 2 strength? Spend 1 magic. Trying to maintain board presence with your shadow? Yup, spend another magic. And yet, Melundak has absolutely nothing to help generate magic for all these effects. Even worse, he has one of the best summoner abilities and nothing to use it on. Shadow Weave lets you treat any unit as a wall for a common once a turn. Hogar has to enchant his stupid golems to get that. Rallul needs to use an event. Glurblurgderp needs to cultivate his horticulture. Melundak, on the other hand, just wills someone to pop out of a furry. 

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If there’s one thing I really like about Alliances, it’s that the art is has noticeably improved almost across the boards. Unfortunately, if there is one point of criticism it’s that Cupidsart isn’t very good at drawing goatmen and other furries. Though, I have to wonder if that is truly a criticism…

But two thirds of his army are ranged with 1 health so want to come from his back walls anyway. It would be really good if he could extend his power to champions but all three of his champions come with extra mobility anyway so it’s irrelevant. Furthermore, Melundak’s events give bonuses to sneak attacks and greater movement which is wasted on his army composition. His deck is geared all around getting all up in his enemy’s face but its used on a force that wants to anything but that. 

Melundak is the one summoner who just screams to be deck built. Almost any Jungle Elf unit in his deck is terrifying. The Shadow Elf champions are clawing to emerge from Melundak’s walls to rampage across the board. There’s an absolutely monstrous unit pool waiting just beyond Melundak’s grip and he was offered the possibly worst dregs of an alliance between his two factions. He’s the unwanted third child with nothing but raggedy hand-me downs while he gapes enviously at the sparkling toys in his siblings’ grasps. 

And his units wouldn’t be too bad if they were lent to the Jungle or Shadow elves either (seriously, stalkers with Abua Shi are like lioneers that can be chant hasted). Together, they’re a horrible combination but I can see them being useful in separated pieces amongst the rest.

Barring shadows, of course. I still don’t see how they’re anything but a gimmick.

The Alliance of the Century Part 1

Summoner Wars and its art belongs to Plaid Hat Games and Cupidsart. Find Alliances at their website http://www.plaidhatgames.om

Summoner Wars and its art here and below belongs to Plaid Hat Games and Cupidsart. Find Alliances at their website http://www.plaidhatgames.om

I’ve written a few words on the board game Summoner Wars before. It’s a fun little 2-player game that Derek will never discuss because it lacks the deep strategic element found in Netrunner or Tanto Cuore. However, my sister enjoys the game, the rules are pretty simple and the gameplay itself is straightforward enough that you don’t need a lot of investment into it to have some fun.

So as Kait gets more and more involved with the game, I’m hoping it serves as a gateway drug so that one day she may actually want to play Diplomacy or the Republic of Rome.

Hey, a man can dream.

Anyway, there is a big release coming up for Summoner Wars. For those not in the know, Summoner Wars is a cross between a board game and a collectible card game. Each player chooses a summoner which comes with a preset deck of cards that is customizable–to a point–which they then play upon a 8×8 (I think, I’m too lazy to check the box) grid that adds an element of positioning to an otherwise simplified game of Magic: the Gathering. We got into the game with the Master Box release that had six different factions to choose. Since then, we’ve grabbed three separate faction decks to add a little more variety bringing our total options up to nine.

Summoner Wars: Alliances will add eight new summoners. That nearly doubles our current holdings. Even more exciting, for me, is that each summoner represents a union between two factions. An “alliance” if you will. A couple of these new pairings has resulted in unique game elements and mechanics but all of them follow the same deck building rules: an alliance summoner is free to add any cards from its composite factions to its deck. Essentially, the Alliances box will give us the tools to customize all the factions we’ve bought so far. If I were to get this product (wink, wink) then I would be nearly doubling the content which I currently own and expand the possibilities for decks even further.

So, yeah, I’m a little excited. In the lead up to the launch of the box, the developers at Plaid Hat Games have been giving weekly teasers for all the cards which will be released. Furthermore, if you pre-order from their website, you get all four of the promotional champions only available through purchases on their website. The lead designer will also sign… something, but that’s nowhere near as important as four mercenaries and a second play mat so we can hold 2v2 battles.

Hint, hint.

I’m telling you, Kait, that I want this for Christmas. Pre-order would be better with all the goodies it includes.

At any rate, in my excitement, I’ve been analyzing the revealed factions and comparing them amongst those already released. While the deck building possibilities amongst all the cards released thus far makes a true measure of each summoner’s strength quite difficult (especially for those which I haven’t yet played) I’m going to judge the factions and briefly discuss my thoughts towards game design, balance and functionality. This is a long winded intro do say that I’m doing a pre-review of the Summoner Wars: Alliances product before it even releases.

Yes, there’s very little going on in my life at the moment.

immortal_elien___sw_alliances_by_cupidsart-d7vy24wTo start off, the eight combined factions being released are:

  • The Fallen Phoenixes: The “controversial” Prince Elien of the Phoenix Elves has partnered up with the ever decaying Ret-Talus of the horribly ineffective Fallen Kingdoms. Since I’ll never buy a starter box (they only contain two factions but come with more boards, dice and tokens that I don’t need anymore) I’ll never have to worry about those awkward Elien vs Elien battles as though we were recreating the epic battle between Luke Skywalker and the Swamp in The Empire Strikes Back.
  • The Tundra Guild: The Tundra Orcs and Guild Dwarves are considered two of the best and most frustrating factions to fight… if you’re stuck on the game’s iOS version. Personally, I think they’re overrated but, once again, their first summoners feature in a product which I’ll never purchase. A curious decision to combine the two which has led to the revealed Rune Events which adds an interesting twist to improving units seen in both faction’s second summoner sets.
  • The Cave Filth: Ermergerd erts teh ferth!
  • The Vargath Vanguard: Missed labeling opportunity. They should have been the Mountain Vanguard. Mountain Vargath and the Vanguard regularly come up on the short end of the stick when people discuss tier lists so the question lies whether their alliance will actually improve their original summoners.
  • The Sand Cloaks: I love Cloaks. I love Sand Goblins. I’m going to love Sand Cloaks. Kait is going to hate them.
  • The Jungle Shadow: In our impromptu tournament with the factions we owned (Master Box plus Cloaks and Filth) the Shadow Elves managed to get into the top four. We just recently grabbed the Jungle Elves. They make sense as a combined faction as both play fast and aggressive but how will their alliance play on these themes of mobility and assassination?
  • The Deep Benders: Now here is an actually controversial pairing. The Deep Dwarves and Benders are two of the most powerful factions despite not being expanded with a second summoner like half the other factions. The Benders came out on top in our tournament and, had Kait not sabotaged the Deep Dwarves, they probably would have been second. Will their first real expansion be even more dominating?
  • The Swamp Mercenaries: Kait loves the horribly misleading Swamp Orcs. They grow vine walls (I know, they should be Jungle Orcs or they should grow root walls but here we are) which spread like a plague across the board choking out strategic locations and being generally obnoxious. The very close second place finisher in our tournament their combination with the Mercenary faction is a little odd but someone had to be stuck with the sellswords, I suppose.

Obviously, all that comes next is going to be speculation. I could do indepth posts on each faction and what I think of them but, in the sake of time, I’m simply going to give them a short ranking and a small blurb on why I think they deserve their spots. Let’s begin with the best.

1. Ermergerd erts teh ferth! (Cave Filth)

Personally, I think the original Filth faction is a top bet for being the best in the game. It’s certainly top three and balancing the faction is incredibly difficult because the Filth play incredibly different from everyone else. In a metagame that has revolved strongly around defensive play and heavy champion line-ups, the Filth stand out as being neither. Their unique mechanic, mutations, allows them to change one of their common units into a unique summon which is neither champion or common but something in between. The original summoner The Demagogue is especially powerful for his inherent ability allows him to search his deck or discard for the mutations he needs as well as give him a slow economic advantage by pulling cards from his discard pile which he can then burn for magic at the sacrifice of an attack.

Put simply, the Filth are a mid to late game deck that looks to play defensive until they generate a strong economic advantage by fueling their summoning costs with recycled mutations before flooding their opponent with powerful units that will tear apart commons and champions alike. I love them. Kait even loves them. All hail the Filth!

The new dude, The Warden, is interesting in that his alliance with the Cave Goblins is anything but an alliance. Presenting himself as an antiquated tyrant, the Warden introduces the “Prison Pile.” This acts as a sort of economic “bank.” Abilities that affect a player’s magic pile do not affect the Warden’s prison pile. Thus, the dreaded Magic Drain event can possibly be mitigated by the Warden by leaving his magic pile empty and undrainable.

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This guy is probably the worst mutation coming out. Just so… you know… you have some idea of the faction’s measure when the worst is a 4 strength, 3 health for 3 magic.

For the most part, the Prison Pile doesn’t add a lot of strategic depth. The Warden can, for free, shuffle a single card from the prison pile to his magic pile. More than anything, the Prison creates an extra step for him to interact with his army. This would be an issue if the Cave Filth weren’t designed along the same vein as the Filth: make everything so damn amazing that the extra hassle is irrelevant. Technically, the Filth require two cards to get their “mutations” going and when they die they give twice the magic power to their opponent.

On the other hand, you can spend 3 magic to get a 3 strength, 3 health monster which enemies are too terrified to strike back and if it gets weakened you can always mutate that baby back to your hand to inflict upon your next devotee. The Warden has a similar “flawed advantage” which is really just an advantage for him. His basic unit, the Prisoner, has a 50% chance upon being summoned to just pop into your Prison. Course for a 1 strength 2 health unit for free, it’s a bit of a steal on its own. Combined with the fact the Warden himself can just turned “failed summons” into magic once per turn, the Cave Filth player hasn’t lost anything with his unruly subjects.

Furthermore, a lot of his cards require fuel from the Prison. Legion, Soul Eater, Scabbicus and Hector all need or grow stronger the more suckers you’ve locked up. The Warden will start stockpiling subjugates long before his inherent enslaving ability of sending destroyed units to Prison kicks in. To “balance” this “negative” the Cave Filth come with some of the best priced units. 3 strength 7 health for 4 magic is something you won’t find anywhere else. Plus they can have the most powerful unboosted unit in the game: 5 strength and 6 health. Granted, you pay out the nose for that guy. Hilarious enough, even Hector can grow astronomically if enough pressure isn’t applied to the Warden and he can get a rowdy Prison built. He gains 1 strength for every two prisoners beneath his care, has 6 health and a measly 4 cost. To compare, Leah Goodwin is the only other 0 strength card in the game who grows with an increasing economy pool and she has 5 health for 3 cost and maxes out her strength at 4.

Yeah, the Cave Filth are silly.

2. I’m not biased! (Sand Cloaks)

The Sand Goblins were the faction with which I was introduced to Summoner Wars. The Cloaks were my first faction received after the Master’s Box. Both hold a fond place in my heart even though they’re a little lackluster without second summoners or reinforcement decks. The alliance, however, is easily the top in the box.

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The scholar both makes the Sand Cloaks and is easy builds for magic. Free (yay 0 magic!) and melee means he’ll be hiding in the back just quietly keeping your event abilities coming back and pumping your troops.

The Sand Cloaks introduce Event Abilities. These events are like prior summoners’ upgrades which went under a unit to improve them. Unlike Bolvi and Torgan, however, these cards can be moved around and synchronized with all the pieces of the deck. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the two stand out factions in the Alliance box are also the two decks that introduce their own unique mechanics which almost every unit reinforces or improves. All nine abilities open to Marek are strong abilities and they can not be lost like Filth mutations. Though they can only improve one unit at a time, Marek’s inherent ability lets her grant the bonus she holds to another unit once per round. Considering that you can enchant her with Camouflage (which makes it that she can only be attacked by adjacent units), you can make a very robust force with very few individuals. Nearly every unit in this deck is ranged as well, the sole exception being the unobtrusive scholar who allows you to move around your event abilities even from your own discard pile.

The only weakness the Sand Cloaks have is that there isn’t inherently any source of strong damage amongst their cards. Only one card naturally has 3 strength and all the commons natively have 2. However, their champions are cheap (4, 5 and 6 respectively) as are their units. That you can then give abilities to each of them to strengthen them or make them hard to kill gives the Sand Cloaks a very strong advantage that will overcome their inherent frailty.

3. Swamp Mercenaries

I’ll just say it: Glurblub, the new summoner, is worse than Mugglug. Yes, the swamp orcs have stupid names. No, it’s not a good idea to say that to their face.

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It’s the god damn Boarboon! RAWR! I actually don’t hate the guys. They’re taking the place of Savagers so they’re slightly weaker (1 less strength after the first turn) for cheaper. It’s amazing how much of a difference 1 magic can make.

Mugglug has the far stronger ability to spread his swamp. Any unit next to his walls which dies grows a vine wall. Glurblub only gets vine walls natively from his ranged attacks. Overall, I predict smaller swamps with Glur but faster invasion of the enemy’s board with those swamps. Which is good because the real strength of the walls is giving advanced summoning positions to overwhelm defences. Glur even takes this further by having a 2 strength, 1 health for 1 magic swordsman which is a statline I love for its pressure and aggression. The boarboons, his cheaper ravagers, have 3 strength on the turn they’re summoned. Though they essentially lose any extra abilities beyond the first turn, this is not actually a big negative given the proliferation of “nullify” abilities or cards that are starting to return units to their owner’s hands. Glur also finally comes with a 0 cost common though he can’t attack them for free walls. But the slippery swamp rats are open to his Spore Carrier events which lets him destroy his units to grow walls where necessary. Glub won’t choke his opponent out of the board but he will plant a garden in their front yard and immediately attack the house with it. And while Mik was designed for Mugglug’s deck (finally a useful champion below 6 magic), Glurb has a 3 attack 3 health 4 cost champion that can negate one attack so long as he is beside a vine wall.

It’s a good thing that Glurb flings his walls too since his deck is entirely composed of melee units.

4. Tundra Guild

They’re good and bad. I don’t know what else to say. Hogar was just recently revealed and my gut instinct is that he isn’t that great. I’m looking at scribes as the old, Master Box design of “always include one auto build as magic unit.” Scribes are probably one of the worst units released in the entire box. They have 1 attack, 1 health and 0 cost which I don’t super hate but their special ability lets them look at one card from the top of the deck per scribe and allow Hogan to put those cards back in any order whenever a Rune Event is used.

So, to get the most out of their ability, you need at least two scribes sitting on the field. You also only get 6 chances to trigger their power since that is the total number of Rune Events in Hogar’s deck. You can’t fling scribes at the enemy and immediately kill them to deny their magic since you need them to stick around the board. With them being melee, you aren’t likely to attack with them at all. So they’re just going to sit on your side of the field being useless hoping that you get a good Rune Event draw which will let you manipulate your pile for your rather lackluster champions to be a little less awful.

They’re bad. At least the swamp rats can be killed for vine walls.

The marauder doesn’t fare any better. It’s a 2 attack, 2 health for 2 magic. When he is enchanted with a rune, he can attack at range. However, you’re never going to waste one of your very limited Rune Events on these guys. So he’s a 2/2/2 which doesn’t really live longer than a 2 strength, 1 health unit but at twice the cost.

The only really great card in Hogar’s deck is the Ice Golems and they are really good. Rune Events are, essentially, Event Abilities that can stack on a single unit. However, unlike Event Abilities, any player can spend 2 magic during their event phase to discard all Rune Events on one target. So, yes, you can pump Hogar up with a ludicrous number of enchantments to turn him into a murder machine. And yes, the opponent can clear all of them for the low price of 2 magic on their turn to leave Hogar naked and sad.

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Single handedly putting Hogar in the top four of the upcoming releases. Ice Golems rock. Or… chill?

On the up side, the cost to erase the runes is the same as Magic Drain so it’s a pretty hefty price. More than that, the previously mentioned Ice Golems get counted as Ice Walls when they are enchanted. This means they operate as mobile summoning platforms much like the Swamp Orc’s vine walls if they were on legs and could punch idiots in the face. Plus, Hogar’s boring ability (walls are only damaged on rolls of 4 or higher) stacks when the Ice Golems are enchanted making them extremely hardy.

Unfortunately, Hogar’s champions are all really expensive despite their abilities being pretty lackluster. He has two 6 cost champions and one 7 cost but only one of them actually has 3 strength. But it becomes 4 strength if you happen to have a Rune Event on the top of your deck when he attacks! At least he’s better than Dagger I suppose. Except Dagger can be built into Marek’s deck so he can gain Greater Sneak on top of his Backstab…

The “random chance” of the Tundra Orcs is represented in these champion abilities but, unlike most of the tundra dwellers, the champions aren’t really that great if they aren’t getting lucky.

Kevin and the Pursuit of Entertainment

Accessed from http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/7d/Hector_and_the_Search_for_Happiness_poster.jpg

Hector and the Search for Happiness belongs to Koch films, Egoli Tossel Films and its associated peoples.

“You hold all the cards, Hector” grins the Tibetan monk. It’s a shame that he’s not playing poker.

It’s Thanksgiving up in somewherepostcultureland and that means that we are dragged back to the quaint little hamlet of our births in order to massacre turkeys in the name of some hungry god of year-end feasts and despondent familial gatherings.

It also means that Derek has no excuse to not spend time with me since he’s in the area. To celebrate this coming together of such intellectual forces, we felt it prudent to strive out and experience something that had not been done in quite some time. We wanted to see a movie.

Unfortunately, Derek already saw Gone Girl which left us with woefully nothing else to watch. When your options are Dracula Untold and Hector and the Search for Happiness, you have to wonder if you’re really left with a choice at all. Neither Derek nor I knew anything about Hector and his happiness but we certainly knew enough about Dracula and his untelling to choose the former. Course, that Hector was featuring only once a day at the late hour and in the small theatre should have been hint enough but we both enjoyed ‘That Guy from Hot Fuzz” enough to give the movie a shot. We arrived just as it was starting to a theatre that must have literally held six other people. Well, at the very least it would give me something to talk about on the blog.

I think Hector’s greatest failing is in it being so… safe. It’s generic. It’s a movie. I don’t really know how else to describe the experience. It was fine, both Derek and I intoned as we left the theatre. The biggest problem was that it wasn’t made for us. It’s a rom-com, likely the one genre least likely to spur our interest. Had we taken dates and not been each other’s date, I’m sure we would have gotten something by the end to warrant the ten dollar admission. Overall, the movie is light on the comedy, light on the romance and heavy on the sentimentality.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Those that want to skip having to look up the wikipedia article to learn the movie’s narrative can read on! Those that are already bored with this movie, well, congratulations I just saved you two hours.

Hector opens with probably its best scene. Simon Pegg (see, I do know his name after all) is flying a little yellow biplane with a great French flag on its ass, dressed in clothing reminiscent of a nineteen-twenties silent pilot film. In his passenger seat is a black and white pug with goggles and scarf with both passengers grinning from ear to ear as they soar amongst the clouds. Hector, getting wrapped up in the whole adventure, decides to do a barrel roll. My first thought as the plane starts to tilt is “There is no way that dog could be strapped in” and, sure enough, as the plane flips upside down, the little black and white pug falls out like a stone to plummet through the bottom of the screen. Well, now I’m grinning ear to ear as Hector slowly realizes the horror of his actions.

Then some cartoon villain pops out from the seat and tries to strangle Hector.

Needless to say the protagonist wakes up. We’re then greeted to Hector’s day to day life, narrated in a children’s storybook style with a grandfatherly narrator that details how Simon Pegg lives a structured, orderly life with toast properly squared each morning and his dutiful girlfriend happily settled into a mothering role of caring to Hector’s near OCD needs. We discover that Hector is a therapist who has a seemingly complex door arrangement in order to keep his patients from ever seeing one another. Of course, the film is quick to point out that, much like his morning routine, Hector is disconnected from the routine of his job and simply returns stock replies to his patients all the while doodling pointless pictures on his notepad and arranging a follow up session the next week. Hector’s girlfriend, Miss Frost from Die Another Day, is some marketing member of a large pharmaceutical company and during a celebration for their latest successful ad campaign she is teased for still being unmarried while Hector sits silently at the table.

And by now it is absolutely clear the entire plotline of the story. Hector is going to realize that his job is a sham and is going to go on some grand journey vaguely reminiscent of the Grand Tour in order to discover that true happiness is in his heart and putting a ring on his girlfriend’s finger.

And that’s exactly what happens.

It’s a story filled with cliches and empty moralities in order to give the audience “the feels” of thinking they’re watching something touching, sweet or profound. It’s none of those. Hector is safe, standard and espouses traditional ideals. Presumably that’s what its audience is there to see.

Personally, I find it boring. For what it was, I can’t say whether it was any better or worse than any other movie with the same aspirations. As I’ve said, I have no interest in the genre or the story-telling. Ostensibly, the biggest conflict in the movie is that Hector is longing for some old girlfriend Agnes and his whole trip to “research what makes people happy to help his patients” is simply an excuse to check up on Agnes to see if she wants to hook up again.

What I personally found, however, was beneath all the generic sentimentality was a rather hilariously morally bereft story. The very first day Hector is on this journey of “self-discovery” he invites a prostitute back to his room in Shanghai and tries to bed her while listing some rubbish about “Happiness is the ability to love two women simultaneously.” Of course, Hector has no idea that the young Chinese girl is a prostitute and when he discovers this, he is absolutely devastated. The movie then moves on as if something of value was learned.

Except, not once is Hector’s lack of fidelity truly addressed. Presumably his disconnect with Miss Frost for these last five years stems from his emotional affair he’s having with the photograph of him, Michael and Agnes on a beach during college. And the first thing he does on his trip is physically fool around behind his girlfriend’s back (which he never discloses to her). Hector supports this unpleasant prostitution by indulging and endorsing his banker friend’s lifestyle. When in Africa, he assists a well known drug lord which, presumably, we’re suppose to believe is led to reform his wicked ways because Hector showed him a spot of kindness.

Of course he doesn’t. Not to mention his continual habit of stealing people’s property and never returning it. Though, I suppose we’re meant to take his pen thefts as a charming quirk. Clearly whoever wrote this story was not on the receiving end of a perpetual pen thief. It becomes less charming when it’s your only pen they nab.

And what movie would it be if there weren’t some awful, convoluted and ultimately empty science thrown in as a cheap mechanic to try and justify the sappy tale. When Hector does meet up with Agnes he discovers that she’s happily married with children and not pining after Hector and his gallant return in the august years of her life. When learning of his “Happiness Search” she instructs him to visit with some crackpot scientist who is researching happiness. The audience is then introduced to the narrator and, thankfully, the initial impression is that this man is off his rocker than an honest to god scientist doing serious science. I mean, he walks around spouting nonsense like “It is not the pursuit of happiness which is important but the happiness of pursuit” while wearing some ratty toque and looking slightly deranged and possibly high. His “experiment” is to shove someone into an isolated box which looks suspiciously like a soundproof booth and have his participants think of three random memories which invoke either sadness, happiness or fear. He then guesses the order of the conjured memories based on neuronal activation monitored on his end.

Oddly enough, his booth doesn’t block cell phone signals which makes you wonder why he’s shoving them into an isolation booth in the first place if it doesn’t isolate anything. This is the moment when Hector gets a call from his girlfriend and after his sad thought (her marrying someone else) and his fear thought (being killed by African warlords) he confesses his trip and… does something? Possibly says he loves her, it’s kind of vague and the scientist exclaims with triumph as if he’s witnessing something profound “It’s all three!”

This, of course, is transposed over images of the Tibetan monastery with its stupid little coloured flags whipping in the wind with the scientist’s stupid coloured brain flashing the same colours. The music swells as actors hemorrhage emotion from their eyes and we all feel better about ourselves even though nothing is being said or learned. Hector’s problem was ultimately solved by having a telephone conversation with his girlfriend which could have easily been held back at London and didn’t necessitate him promoting destructive behaviours like the excess of Shanghai investment banking and Africa drug trading. He then returns to London to continue conning his patients out of their money with his weekly sessions but this time everyone is doing it with a big grin so presumably that makes it all better.

No, ultimately what I wanted to see would be an investigation of happiness. What makes people happy and is happiness ultimately something worthwhile to pursue? This movie seeps with Western standard armchair philosophy that happiness is the be all and end all of our life goals. And yet, we get some glimpses of things otherwise. The investment banker is incredibly rich and has traded traditional happiness with the accumulation of money and the fake reality which he is able to buy with it. He builds his happiness in the illusion that hookers are young college students who fall enormously in love with these old, out of shape white men who come and are just the hippest thing at their little dance clubs.

Then there’s the African drug lord who sells a very different kind of happiness. People who partake of his drugs are getting euphoria just as fake as the bankers and, presumably, just as destructive. There’s a parallel between the drug lord and banker which goes completely ignored. Not to mention there’s the unspoken association of wealth and happiness. Hector and his girlfriend joke a couple of times about Hector’s experience in Shanghai being “so that’s how the rich live” and yet both of them have lucrative work and live extraordinarily well in London (their flat has its own, private elevator!).  Even married Agnes is living quite well with her mathematician husband in a grand house with its own pool.

Ultimately, Hector’s search for happiness is the well-to-do, white upper class westerner’s search for happiness. It’s peering through the tiny Skype box at a world of lavish bathrooms trying to find that one item or object that will bring meaning and joy to their life. I can’t be the only one that finds it incredibly shallow that the best Hector can scrape from his experiences is that happiness is some girl and getting married. It’s about as meaningful as his little book filled with those delightful phrases, “Happiness is not know the full story.”

Plumbing the Well

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/r/rembrand/26group/05group.html

The Nightwatch by Harmenszoon van Rijn Rembrandt (1642).

Last week I wrote about how ideas come to pass. This week, I’m going to examine a current short story which I am working on. Its tentative title is The Affairs of Catherine Hill, Incorporated. Mostly because I like titles that are more than one word in length.

The source of this story actually came from my desire to write something in the near future that isn’t a cop drama. Cop dramas are pretty ubiquitous in modern media. If it’s not superheroes cleaning up streets, then it’s the rugged and persistent police force in such wonderful things as CSI, Criminal Minds, Law and Order, Castle, Almost Human, Skorpion, Bones, Rizzoli and Isles, Blacklist, Person of Interest, Dexter, Foyle’s War, Midsomer Murders, Hawaii Five-O, NCIS, The Mentalist, Murdoch Mysteries, New Tricks, Republic of Doyle, Rookie Blue, Sherlock, Elementary, The Listener, True Detective, White Collar, Death in Paradise…

Needless to say, it’s a lot. I understand the appeal. It’s an easy format, very monster of the week that doesn’t require a lot of memory on the part of the viewer. Relationships aren’t particularly complex and you can really jump in at any point you want in the series because the status quo is necessary to maintain for both the format and the setting. Police departments don’t undergo rigorous changes and upholding the rules is their job. You watch one cop drama and you’ve essentially seen them all. There’s comfort in the familiar. There really isn’t a lot of variation in their presentation.

It’s also the easiest, most convenient way to work in action for a modern setting. Unlike fantasy, modern society is known for being safe and stable. You don’t really have bandits striking in the night to burn down villages and create heroic orphans. You also don’t have dragons who inherently need slaying. If you’re going to get the violence and action of a fantasy flick, you’re going to have to explore crime. And the people who would lead lives that interact in a relate-able way is the police officer. Every day, according to the TV universe, is an action packed struggle with the elements that are undermining the very structure and safety which allows the viewer to watch from the comfort of their home after a long day at work.

So, yeah, I understand the police procedural. I even wrote a short story with a police officer since it was the easiest way to work in a protagonist to explore the mystery I’d developed. But I’ve always argued that the strength of speculative fiction is its ability to take us on journeys beyond the ordinary. Science fiction and fantasy are great at taking old concepts and looking at them in different ways. Or simply jumping off into entirely different ideas.

Thus, I wanted a future story that wasn’t following a police officer. Ok, I thought, what else is fun? Well, I’ve always enjoyed espionage. It’s a genre that’s sort of been on the decline. So, I have a natural interest in that subject and it’s something that could use a fresh look. Alright, I’ll write a futuristic spy story.

Then I asked myself the niggling problem. How does the future change the face of espionage?

Therein lies the rub. And the fun. The future. What sort of future would we be seeing? I ruminated on the various directions I could take. I decided I wanted to have a future very different from our own. I mean, society has changed dramatically over the last hundred years it is silly to think that it would stay the same for the next hundred. What society driving factors would I take to change the face of society? Well, a current issue we face today is the economy. There were elements I could take from there.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/r/rembrand/26group/13group.html

Sampling Officials of the Drapers’ Guild by Harmenszoon van Rijn Rembrandt (1662).

Corporatism is a pretty omnipresent factor in the modern economy. We’re getting large companies that control greater and greater shares of the market. Consequently, they exert more and more political influence in the public sphere as they’re able to turn their massive profits into lobbying for laws and changes that benefit them. What were to happen if we took this to its extreme?

I began to envision a corporatocracy. Instead of individuals electing representatives to a national body, it would be corporations electing their spokesmen in order to negotiate for more favourable laws for their interests. I had this thought that, given in America corporations are recognized as individuals, what if Monsanto decided they wanted to run for office? If they were large enough, they could “convince” their employees to vote for them and insure they get the position. Surely, if one corporation did it, others would follow suit. And the cost for elections is so enormous in the United States that corporate sponsorship is mandatory for anyone with aspirations for Washington. So what if the corporations simply cut out the middle man?

Well, public office would simply disappear. What could civil servants truly hope to do in the face of these huge economic powerhouses? But what would this mean for the little guy? How would people be handled by this shift? This isn’t big government we’re looking at but big corporation.

I then remembered my time in Japan and how the face of business was changing over there. At one time, it was socially expected that a young man would get hired on with a company and that company would, essentially, take care of him for the rest of his life. Unlike in the United States, there was extremely little job changing. Perhaps this would become the new normal. Companies still need people at some level to keep them running. And if the government isn’t going to provide the basic necessities (because it doesn’t exist) then companies could offer them as incentives to keep their workers.

I was beginning to broach upon medieval serfdom. In my research for my novel we hunt dragons. I came across the surprising information that the relationship between liege and serf wasn’t entirely as one directional as I had believed. There was a defacto contract between ruler and ruled. The ruler was expected to provide safety and sustenance (in the face of poor crops and droughts) to their farmers and in return the farmers provided a (hefty) tax to their protectors. Should a ruler fail in his duty to his farmers, there were in many places recourses that the serfs could take to protect their livelihood. This often manifested as taking the lord to court with the greatest threat the farmer could leverage was the freedom to remove their self from their lord’s protectorate and seek out a neighbouring realm which he could work and live.

This structure would work incredibly well in the case of my rising corporations. The company a person worked for would be their entire structure. It would set their laws and protections as well as the rewards and compensation for their efforts. As long as I was a member of a company, I was safe. I would essentially sign my life to these corporations for their benefits. Had I no affiliation, I would have nothing. Someone commits a crime against me and I would be forced to shoulder the financial burden of paying the police to track them down and prosecute them. I would have to be the one to pay for that criminal’s prison sentence. I would ultimately have to cover the damages that were done. But if I were an employee, all of that would be taken care of by my company.

It was medieval servitude and I liked this association that the future of our current business practices was ultimately our past.

There was a further wrinkle, however. I felt that public interest wouldn’t ultimately die to the Cokes and IBMs of the world. I could see professions living on if they incorporated themselves. It was the rebirth of the guild system. Once again, the parallel with medieval economic structure was perfect. And its explanation for its recurrence was simple and elegant. Instead of being gobbled up by the burgeoning medical fields, the doctors and surgeons would unite and form their own corporation. They would hold exclusive right to practice, train and sanction official doctors. If companies wanted their service, they would have to pay for them. In this manner, the doctors could insure that healthcare didn’t fall to the rich. If they were in charge of their own services they could have humane scales of payment depending on an individual’s income. Company members would have to pay out the nose because they could. Unemployed people could pay in service if they had no credit to their name.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/r/rembrand/26group/01group.html

The Anatomy Lecture of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp by Harmenszoon van Rijn Rembrandt (1632).

Thus, the labour force wouldn’t entirely disappear but would play the same game as the corporations.

But how would this be enforced? What would stop the big business from gobbling up the smaller?

I knew I wanted some national body to draw parallels with our current democratic governance to highlight how different the world had become. With everything revolving around the almighty dollar, I realized that the principle organization would have to be a bank. Only that institute would hold the interest of all the various companies and fields that would arise. Every company would want to be able to influence loan rates and inflation. Most importantly, the bank would have the power to settle inter-company disputes.

For the one niggling problem I had with my set-up was I couldn’t explain how the justice system would work if two different company employees did harm to each other. They, after all, lived by different laws set by their employer. Thus, the solution had to be an independent voice who held the ability to punish severely any group that did not co-operate. The bank then became more than just a place every company could deposit their money at the lowest possible risk. It was a place that held the power to remove a company from the economic structure and deny them the unified currency which every company would trade. It also had the ability to allow the Guilds to thrive. For the bank would recognize any account it approved as a valid company. If every company had a vote, then the Guilds could certainly insure their persistence through sheer solidarity and numbers. They could vote for the bank to give loans to labour start-ups in order to dilute the power base of the big business. But it’s a double edged sword. Should those companies fail to pay back their loans, then the bank would take shares from their company. Once the bank owned all a company’s shares, they would be dissolved and belong to the bank. Of course, there is nothing that would stop those people from trying to open a new account… save the bank and its voting base itself. And on a council that would be very willing to buy and sell votes, spending on an already failed venture seemed a losing proposal.

Needless to say, this world is starting to come together.

The Wellspring of Ideas

“Where do you get your ideas” no one ever asked me. But I have read a number of interviews with successful authors and that is a frequently recurring inquiry. Some day, I would like someone to ask me it. But until that day comes, I’ll just pose it to myself and pretend it was someone else that was interesting.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/m/memling/2middle3/15allego.html.

Allegory with a Virgin by Hans Memling (1479-1480).

The fun thing about ideas is that they sort of spring from nowhere. The process of writing and creating is an exciting adventure which I’m never one hundred percent sure where it will go. There may be some writers who know exactly every detail of their story, development of their character and exacting quirk of their locations before ever putting word to processor or pen to paper. I am not one of those people. I very much fly by the seat of my pants. That first draft is much like the first read. It’s thrilling and mysterious. There are twists and turns and unexpected surprises. Characters say and do things I would not have predicted. Betrayals are committed and more questions than answers arise.

However, I don’t want to paint a picture of absolute chaos and anarchy. It would be completely misleading to say that I didn’t have some grasp of the narratives that I create. Generally speaking, there is a core idea or theme which I want to explore. Often, this means I know how the story is going to end and much of the journey is dragging my characters, kicking and screaming, to that final point. But this final destination isn’t the seed of my idea. Usually it’s the result of preliminary research, rumination and organization. I’m thinking of my stories well before I’m actually working on them.

So that’s three paragraphs of skirting the question, “Where do you get your ideas?” My most recently completed short story is thematically exploring the concepts of self and the existential question of what makes us individuals. Course, when you read it, it’s not likely to come across as some heavy handed philosophical musing. For the most part, it’s presented as a silly cop drama. The theme was the plant which germinated from the seed. And the seed itself which I planted for Buddha, was I wanted a person to discuss his host’s umbrella stand made from a human leg.

That’s it. That’s really the starting point for that short story. The idea for it was drawn when perusing the contents of Ingrid Newkirk’s will. She’s the president of P.E.T.A and desires to have her body, upon expiration, to be chopped up and dispensed in a manner that continues to bring awareness to her viewed cruelty and exploitation of animals. In particular, she wanted to send India an umbrella stand made from her foot. When reading that, I got the thought “What would it be like for someone to walk into an office and see a foot just lying there on the ground, ready for an umbrella.” It was this absurd picture of a person faced with a seemingly atrocious display of human cruelty that was treated so nonchalantly that got my wheels turning. My mind, honed on lateral and logical explanations for inexplicable situations that arose from improvisation, began churning through a long chain of events that could make this stupid conversation about a token foot possible.

And a story was born.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/bio/b/bosch/biograph.html.

Triptych of Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymous Bosch (1500).

Thus, ideas for stories come from unexpected places. If anyone had passed my Ingrid’s will and said, “Read this! It will give you a great idea!” I would have laughed at them. Likewise, the idea for the Clockwork Caterpillar came from a rather unassuming angle. While Derek was living in Ottawa and on my many visits, he had a tradition of taking me to one of the many museums located in the nation’s capital. One time we went to the science and transportation museum with Felicia in tow. She had never been before, you see, and was excited to cross off the last of the major museums from her to-do list. It was cold and wintery and I was mostly happy to be inside though this museum was no R.O.M or Science Centre. They had some rather maudlin exhibits covering dry topics like the creation of morse codes or telegraphy or the Canada-arm but nothing that really grabbed my interest.

That was until we headed up the old transportation wing. We entered a rather large warehouse which was basically a storage room for old trains. I thought nothing of them, I’ve seen trains before. My brother even had a toy train set when he was little that I’d play with when he wasn’t around. But Felicia, she just lit up at the sight of the enormous engines. She was laughing and crawling all over them like a child in a candy store. I laughed at her: not for her exuberance but because my sister also has a silly thing for trains. I’m sure Kait’s appreciation of them is partly based on a long running joke but to see two unrelated women overjoyed for an outmoded vehicle amused me. It got me thinking and wondering what it was about trains that they appreciated that I didn’t. I thought perhaps it was a sense of freedom and exploration coupled with an older time full of charm and simplicity.

Suddenly, the gears were working again. I could see a woman back in colonial times looking up at the enormous machines and pondering the direction of the future which they would chart. I imagined the allure of such a machine and the power and wonder that she who lived on it would experience. Slowly, the Red Sabre was taking shape.

It’s a similar kind of story for some of my other creations. Some of them were more theme focussed. I knew with Eternal September and Pasithea Reassembled that there were two sorts of phenomenon I wished to criticize. With Pasithea, it was the hollowness of the club scene which strives for some emotional connection on shallow and superficial levels with individuals. I wondered how that institute would change as our technology and cultures changed. On some level, I felt they wouldn’t. No matter our progress, we’d still have judgmental opinions and biases against strangers. We’d still show insensitivity and cruelty. And thus, I envisioned a scene between two women in a dank and grungy bathroom where one was going to steal the dress right off the other.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/e/eyck_van/jan/02page/26barbar.html.

St. Barbara by Jan van Eyck (1437).

As for Eternal September, it originally brewed up from my disappointment with the world building of another work. There was a video game that was designing a space exploration experience filled with various alien races. Unfortunately, one of those races I found really lack luster. Their design seemed mostly to be “Let’s take Japanese culture and make the people fish!” It frustrated me because science-fiction is so good at exploring different ideas and for an organism so vastly different from our own to develop to our technological level would have a very different perspective to society than we would. These aliens did not. And so my mind began to wonder “What would they look like? How would this impact their vision of the world and the development of their culture.” Eternal September was the product of those musings. Course, as I was writing a short story, I dropped the alien physiology and so that change alone necessitated a whole slew of other changes to the story structure. However, the initial ideal–that these people worshiped Essentialism–was maintained and the consequences of a society based around those views was formed.

There’s really a story behind all my stories as I’m sure there is for every other writer. It’s a curious process of spontaneous happenstance and self-reflective musing that culminates in these exacting pieces of work. I love the process, I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. And though no one else is really interested, I always enjoy the journey it took for ideas to come to life.

First Impressions

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/d/durer/1/01/04self22.html

Self Portrait at 22 by Albrecht Dürer (1493).

My posting is a bit erratic and for that I apologize. It’s been a busy month of writing and editing as I try to make this deadline which is an issue that sort of crops up every other month. Alas. In theory, somewherepostculture has two other contributors to pick up the slack when someone gets bogged down with work. Derek, however, continues his unending quest of dying and with the start of the new school year, both he and Kait are busy with those duties as well.

In positive news, I’ve seen Kait reading a batch of new books so there should be some reviews on the horizon. Also, next month is rather dead for me (right before the incredibly busy November) so hopefully I can be a bit more consistent in my posts then too. Also, I came across a short little topic I wanted to discuss while I was editing.

Specifically, I want to spend some time on first sentences.

Pretty much every writing advice source will say that the initial sentence is very important. It’s the first impression you, as an author, get to make to your fans. Its your one chance to hook them into your book and keeping them going from line to line until the very last pages.

And it’s a bit of a lie.

I’m not saying that first sentences aren’t important for they really are. But it’s not truly the first impression you make on your reader. Common knowledge teaches that first impressions are important as they form the lasting associations a person has for that work (or individual or whatever). Anecdotal evidence abounds to collaborate this position and there are even psychological studies which delve into it. I won’t dwell on this fact further but I do want to say that, as a writer, you are making an impression even before someone opens up and reads that line.

In this day and age, book covers are the first window into your work. Unfortunately, for the vast majority of writers, what makes that book cover is well out of your hands. But there is one component of the cover which you have some control over. Well before we had lavish artistic pieces adorning the protective sheafs, we had first line of contact between creator and audience: the title.

I hate coming up with titles. Unless I have an idea for a title before the work, I can almost never come up with anything I like. They are really hard to make and it’s for the same reason that writers struggle for that first line on the page. The title is supremely important. It sets expectations in your reader as well as being your largest chance to get a potential reader to pause in the bookstore and pick up your book. It needs to be eye-catching. It needs to be inviting and entice the fantasies of idle passer-bys. It’s a lot riding on what amounts to, on average, three to six words.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/d/durer/1/03/1self28.html

Self Portrait at 26 by Albrecht Dürer (1498).

I make this comment because I’m going to call out my sister. She is finishing a short story tentatively called Sacrifice. I understand what she was going for but the issue with that title is that it’s too generic. It tells the reader nothing. I’m certain there are droves of stories through history all called Sacrifice. There’s nothing in the word itself which entices me to look into the story. It’s the equivalent of Sister Marjorie Brushes her Teeth.

Writing is a strange little art. It’s less like sculpture and more like performance. With a painting, it takes seconds for the audience to really consume the piece. I don’t have to truly sell the idea of the painting, I can sell the painting itself. Show it off and people can decide whether they like it or not. The first impression is almost the only impression it gives. Obviously, there is more complexity to paintings and sculpture and longer viewings can reveal more about the piece but what you see is really what you get.

A novel, however, is not the same. A writer is more of a showman. You need to entice your audience to step through the curtain and purview the wonders you’ve locked away in the dark and behind curtains. Each step needs to be teased. At any point, your reader can simply duck out the tent’s flap and never return. You may have the most wonderful scenes, poignant character development and thrilling action but if you can get them to take that first leap into your arms the reader is never going to see it. You need to dress up, throw on some glitter and mystery if you ever want to compete with all the authors doing the same.

There are, essentially, three important teases: the title, the first sentence and the first chapter. The title gets the reader to open the book. The first sentence locks them to your page and the first chapter should insure that they’ll never put it down.

Of course, there are plenty of examples where poor titles or lackluster opening sentences have not held a book back. ‘Twilight’ is not a particularly inspiring title. ‘My name is Kvothe, pronounced nearly the same as “quothe.”‘ is about as dry as they come. But both Twilight and Name of the Wind managed to be hugely successful despite these flaws. So, there is some silver lining to all this unnecessary drama I’m wrapping around this first impression spiel. But why give your work that risk–that handicap–of a weak appearance? You wouldn’t let your child head out to his first formal dance with his fly undone or shoes untied. Sure, he may still impress his date and she may even find a certain charm in his inept demeanor. Ultimately, however, it’ll be his personality that wins her heart so you want that to be the first thing she sees when he arrives on her door.

I will end on a positive note. The reason I wrote this post wasn’t because of my sister’s bland title but because I absolutely love the first sentence of my new short story. I didn’t even write it: Kait did. It’s important to learn from our weaknesses, I think, but to also celebrate our successes. My favourite kind of first impression is one that leaves me immediately unbalanced. It intrigues me to be left a puzzle that can only be solved by continuing on. I’ll always step through that curtain if there’s a sense that what lies beyond will make some sense of the bizarre and strange greeting you give me.

So here we go:

“With stooped shoulders, gangly walk and a morose disposition, you would not think Ed was the Buddha.”

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/d/durer/1/03/1self28.html

Self Portrait in a Fur-Collared Robe by Albrecht Dürer (1500).

No Free Will For You!

Apparently, I’m a compatibilist. I wasn’t aware of this fact myself but Sam Harris has informed me as such so it must be true. I, certainly, didn’t consider myself as such but that is irrelevant because I am not the author of my own words. Or, truly, the author of anything at all. Thus, I should preface all my work with, “I would like to thank the universe for writing all my stories for me. I would further like to blame the universe for not unloading a helluva lot more success upon me for this work that it did on my behalf.”

For those who aren’t in on the minutia of my life, I’ve been spending the last week in a heated debate about Free Will. Mostly, this has revolved around my inexplicable compulsion to engage in Derek’s annual year moving when he likes to box all his worldly possessions and shuffle them a few feet or hundreds of kilometers depending on whether the sun is trying to murder me or not. Why have I felt compelled to consistently assist him with this duty when he has never returned the favour? I could tell you a lengthy tale about how he’s my friend, how I like to help those I’m close with and the dated ideals of social reciprocity and bonding suggest that this is advantageous to my survival as it enables me to enlist his help at a future date should I so desire.

Sadly, I have discovered all of this is a lie. Thanks a lot Sam Harris.

Accessed from http://americanhumanist.org/system/storage/2/b8/d/2962/fw.jpg

Free Will obviously belongs to Sam Harris and whatever publishing house has claimed its rights. You can find the book here: http://www.samharris.org/free-will

I just finished Free Will but the aforementioned good doctor. It’s, ostensibly, a rejection of free will based on neuroscience and psychology. The book was, considering it’s subject matter, a surprising 65 pages. Needless to say, it wasn’t the most verbose argument I’ve ever read but at least it made for a quick read. For all that I can (and will!) say about Sam Harris, the man does take an approach similar to Derek’s–focus on comprehensibility over a stuffy and impenetrable air of academia.

By Mr. Harris’ admission, it is “difficult to think about law, politics, religion, public policy, intimate relationships, morality…without first imagining that every person is the true source of his or her thoughts and actions.” Of course, Harris wouldn’t have a book if he didn’t propose that all of this is an illusion. The jacket of the book goes on to explain that Harris will enlighten us all on the truth of the human mind while not undermining society’s morals or the importance of political freedom all the while changing our understanding of life’s most importance questions.

At least, that’s what the cover claims. In sixty-five pages, I too would have been impressed if he’d accomplished this. If you hadn’t picked up my tone yet, I am unconvinced. Not that some lowly blogger in some remote part of the Internet must try be impressed by Harris’ work for legitimacy, especially when our only traffic are copyright lawyers hunting down malicious use of intellectual infringement, but here we are anyway. Thankfully, it’s not my fault (the infringement, to be clear, though I’m not to be blamed for the forth coming ramble on psychology and philosophy).

Let’s jump into the meat of things, shall we? Free will has been a hot debate in the course of philosophy for… I don’t know… longer than I was an undergraduate that’s for certain! You would thusly imagine that someone who so definitely claims to put the subject to rest would have some lengthy treatise on his position. Alas, only the first fourteen pages of the book are devoted to actual research–which made the work even quicker for me to finish.

If you haven’t heard of Libet’s experiment then you are not alone. The poor man is already dead and only now does his work seem to be gaining any traction with the wider public. Isn’t that always the case? To be fair to Mr. Libet, we really didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Benjamin Libet’s experiment, however, is somewhat interesting in the discussion of consciousness and decision making. I won’t bog the blog down in details that no one is truly interested in, but he demonstrated through the use of a digital clock that when people “consciously” choose to make a decision via button press on when to pause the clock, neuronal reading of their brains demonstrated that there was a build-up of activation which predicted said behaviour upwards of ten seconds before conscious awareness.

This, Harris hinges upon, is the definitive evidence that free will is an illusion (e.d. – ok, there’s a bit more research but this is essentially the launching point so forgive me the simplification). He puts forth the “controversial” position that our wills are simply the byproduct of background causes of which we are unaware and lie beyond our control. I place controversial in quotations because, ultimately, if you have engaged in a discussion about free will, then you know ho incoherent the concept is.

As Harris puts forward, our thoughts are not spontaneously generated within our conscious thought. This shouldn’t really be that surprising. You don’t determine that you are hungry after long consideration. Likewise, you don’t will yourself into sleepiness but realizing you’re tired or hungry are both realizations of your own body’s feedback. Likewise, Harris purports, we are not the creators of our conscious thoughts and that these very words which I’m typing upon this page sort of congealed from some unspecified void and was enacted by my fingers longer before my consciousness truly became aware of them.

It is this assertion which we can begin to see the problem in Harris’ position. Reading through his book, he seems to be intrinsically motivated to disprove the concept of conservative or religious thought–that we are truly independent beings being held back by either our own laziness (conservatism) or disobedience (theology). Ironically, Harris seems primarily motivated to reject the dualism philosophy of consciousness: we are biological beings being manipulated by a disconnected soul or mind. And yet, Harris argues just as vehemently that there is a dualism nevertheless. He never specifies what the “self” is and thus, when he argues our thoughts are never self-generated, he fails to say where the hell they come from. By Harris’ description, there’s some mystery “thought void” which simply shunts thoughts into our minds which we misconstrue as originating from ourselves like a petulant redditor who has stumbled across a humorous cartoon and wishes to post it under their own name to reap that delicious, delicious reddit karma.

To Harris, the unconscious mind is some masterful machine ultimately directing our bodies. It’s this mysterious black box formed by our genes and shaped by our environment into a highly predictable machine that makes us dance to its invisible puppet strings. His book is nearly sixty pages of repeating this statement again and again, “You do not generate your thoughts. You do not generate your thoughts. You do not generate your thoughts.”

Of course, he can’t say how our thoughts are generated. They’re simply intrusive worms into our mind garden which we are forced to tolerate as they eat through our mulch. He poses this problem without giving an inch on the obvious answer: a person is the combination of their unconscious and conscious processes. This seems, to me, immediately obvious. I would have thought that the global penetration of Freudian theory into the public consciousness had made this concept a clear alternative. It is the interaction between conscious and unconscious thought, motivation and action which gives rise to the entity of individuality. It’s a unique combination influenced and formed by the genes we inherit and the environment we inhabit that structures our heuristics, biases and perspective.

But for Harris, this is not enough. Even Libet didn’t argue that free will was absent but proposed a sort of conscious “veto” which our higher cognitive processes were able to dictate to our unconscious urges. We can “feel” hungry but stop ourselves from eating in a garbage can until we get home for a proper meal. Harris concedes  (and must as there’s an incredible body of research to demonstrate) that our abilities are formed based on our personal reflection and motivation which often leads to overcoming short-term desires to follow better long-term goals. But this isn’t good enough for Harris because the initial drives are produced in the unconscious. The heuristics you utilize are, according him, nothing more than previous reasoning and influence on behaviour which are nothing more than reasoning and prior influences before that. Down and down we go with turtles upon turtles with no end in sight. Somewhere down the line, someone spilled a glass of milk and that’s made you the angry, aggressive driver you are today.

I had, initially, written a lot of words to discuss the theories Harris proposes, but the format which he writes makes a lot of them redundant. Essentially, the crux of his argument is this confusing and contradicting statement:

“Choices, efforts, intentions, and reasoning influence our behaviour–but they are themselves part of a chain of causes that precede conscious awareness and over which we exert no ultimate control. My choices matter–and there are paths toward making wiser ones–but I can not choose what I choose. And if it ever appears that I do–for instance, after going back and forth between two options–I do not choose to choose what I choose. There is a regress here that always ends in darkness. I must take a first step, or a last one, for reasons that are bound to remain inscrutable.”

Harris has, essentially, framed the discourse in such a way that he can never be wrong. Free will, he proposes, can only be demonstrated if you can be the sole and uninfluenced source of your own thoughts. But this is a ludicrous position. We have, by nearly all consensus, evolved from organisms which had no such capabilities. Our consciousness is not the sole attribute of our personhood. We are the culmination of both our conscious directive and unconscious motivations. Think about that for a second. How would you describe yourself? And how many of those attributes did you consciously generate?

Not a lot, I presume. I never choose to be a male. I didn’t ever make the conscious decision to be gay. My self identity is based upon my own introspection, interaction with others and capabilities I have demonstrated. There is no value in thinking I’m a terrific basketball player if I have never picked up a ball in my entire life. I did not separate and exist as my own entity the moment I achieved some sense of consciousness. The two spiders on my wall are not one entity because they have no demonstrable higher cognitive functioning.

Harris puts forth a hard vision of determinism. All things are, essentially, preordained by his estimation. The only component he’s lacking for a truly religious view is a sentient, all-powerful creator to kickstart the process. He tries to argue that there’s a difference between determinism and fatalism but he provides no evidence for this. If we truly are just passengers in this twisted machine of genes and history, then we have no capability for altering its course. All thoughts originate in that unfathom unconscious and we are powerless to stop whichever ones bubble out and we blindly follow. And yet, Free Will is chalk full of the importance of our choices, motivations and intentions. He dislikes fatalism because it’s an unpleasant consequence of his theory but he never disproves it from his position.

This is, ultimately, my dislike of Free Will. It’s philosophy masquerading as psychology. The only evidence he draws upon is incredibly divisive in its interpretation. Many people debate what’s truly being measured and what it ultimately means on our conscious will. There seems intuitively, a difference between pressing a button and choosing your spouse. We have lots of research on unconscious and conscious decisions as well as a good idea of what consciousness can achieve. We, however, have very little information on how unconscious and conscious processes interact or even how decisions are made. We know so little about the brain that it is an understatement to even suggest Harris’ conclusions are grossly premature. His extrapolations are, invariably, well beyond the scope of the conversation we can have based on the research we have.

I do not begrudge him, at the end. From my reading, I ultimately agree with much of his motivations. But his conclusion seems shortsighted and underdeveloped. He provides no good explanation for why a compatibilist (the argument of our self being both unconscious and conscious elements) is wrong or how his vision truly does not change much in our perspectives of the world. In fact, there’s a very brief chapter on research which suggests that abandoning the concept of free will can lead people to acting more aggressive and dishonest. These studies he simply blithely dismisses because he, personally, has not acted that way.

And, finally, his concluding stream of consciousness ramble is incredibly incoherent. James Joyce did it far better.

Sneak Peeks!

Gearing into a big writing blitz so I don’t know if I’ll have lots of time for articling. So here’s something new, a sneak peek on what I’m working!

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/e/ender/thomas/

The Grossglockner with the Pasterze Glacier by Thomas Ender (1830).

At the Gates of Zheng He Ho

 

“I don’t like this captain.”

“I ain’t paying you to.”

“We really shouldn’t be here. They’re a lordless lot with nothing but trouble and hedonism to their name.”

“You announced our arrival?”

“Yes, captain.”

“Then go watch the sides, I ain’t looking for any extra dints on her that I can avoid.”

“Yes, captain.”

S.J’s boots beat his misgivings against the stairs as he climbed down. Felicity didn’t regard his departure, adjusting a few valves to ignite the gas lanterns adorning the front. The flickering lights danced over rough hewed stone. Ancient timbers crossed the uneven roof like elderly arms trying to hold up the heavens. The engine crawled at a snail’s pace through the tight quarters, giving the passengers plenty of time to regard the pock marked walls around them.

It was easy to feel like they were squeezing through the very bones of the earth herself. The passage was crooked and uneven. It followed a madman’s course, banking on hairpin turns and wide corners as if they were looping around upon themselves. Truth of the matter was that they weren’t originally designed for vessels but for miners. The routes were plotted along long emptied seams then a straight trajectory conducive to piloting. And with so many ancient tunnels, stretching out in long forgotten directions, it was easy to think the integrity of the mountain itself was undermined. Any amount of explosion could possibly bring it down upon itself like a paper tower.

“This kind of approach and you’d think they didn’t want visitors,” Schroeder said.

“I reckon that’s the exact impression.”

“Then why build it in the first place?”

“Why we build ours?”

He leaned back on his chair as the engine shrieked like a distempered ghost as it took a rough turn. The entire carriage shook as Felicity reached and applied more brake to control their momentum. But there was a noticeable change in elevation. But instead of rising up, they were descending deeper.

“Heard lots of stories about these mines.”

“Any that don’t involve untamed or spirits of the deceased?”

Schroeder smiled.

“Figure there might be one or two.”

“Then so be it. I don’t be needing a reminder of this place’s other reputation.”

“They say this place was once called Katahmin and that it was the tallest mountain in the entire range. Glorious was its head wreathed in a crown of pure white clouds. At its feet was a beautiful lake full of various fowl, fish and delectable weed. It was fed by the purest spring that flowed from the very head of Katahmin.”

“A savage’s story?”

“You want to hear the rest or not?”

When Felicity’s objections remained silent, Schroeder continued.

“There came a time that a young and beautiful native woman gathered upon the lake’s shore. She was out collecting the grass for her people. For she was the daughter of their chief and only she was to granted sight of the beauty of Katahmin. Her name was Patoma and celebrated was she amongst her people for never had a more radiant girl been seen. But she was still unwed and did languish at the shores of the lake, bemoaning her fate.

“’Oh great Katahmin!’ she cried, staring at its reflection in the crystal pool. ‘If but I could have a man as grand, handsome and charitable as you. For truly do you give of our tribe the bounty of your bosom and glories are you to the eye that there are none greater.’

“And on that day, pretty Patoma did remark at how the waters shook with her words. The reflection distorted and rippled. Within its ebbing folds, she could have sworn she saw a man’s face look back at her. Handsome was it more than any face she had seen. For it was strong like her fathers but full of youth, vigour and a hint of something supernaturally divine. Patoma at once recognized it for the mighty spirit of Katahmin. His voiceless mouth surely called to her and she dropped her reeds and took to the ancient forbidden trails up his side. For it was forbidden for any to set foot on sacred Katahmin as her people did fear spoiling his virgin skin and bringing ruin to the gifts he bestowed.

“Poor Patoma disappeared for three years and her tribe did grieve. Her father assumed she was taken by a neighbouring rival and did war with him. Many were killed in the conflict but no amount of blood or sacrifice could ease the pain of her passing. But then, at the end of the third year of her disappearance, she did return with child in tow. Her people were astonished and the sight of her lifted the heart of her morose father. A feast was thrown in her honour and all came to marvel upon the babe in her arms. It was a handsome child, strong of features like their people but with small eyes that gleamed like none they had seen before.

“They pestered celebrated Patoma, enquiring over the identity of the child’s father but Patoma was reticent to share the information. She claimed the child was a gift from the spirits, bestowed to them so that they may protect themselves from a coming danger. But none would stop marvelling over the curious blend of the child’s features with the round face, small eyes and brows that looked as though they were carved of stone.

“Her father, the chief, did forbade discussion of the matter further seeing how it bothered his sweet daughter. So they feasted and celebrated and made great sacrifices to their ancestor spirits. All was well with the tribe and Patoma went about raising her child amongst her people. But despite her father’s forbiddance, her people pestered her about the identity of the child’s father. Patoma remained tight lipped, saying only that the child was a gift and would protect them as long as Patoma kept her word. Her people asked what threat he would defeat but Patoma didn’t know.

“As the child grew, however, he did display remarkable traits. He was quick to learn their language, speaking eloquently like an adult when most were babbling their parents names. He was eager to learn the ways of his people, following hunters on their hunts and immediately learning their ways. Soon he was bringing home as much venison as the greatest amongst them. He seemed to have a preternatural knowledge of the surrounding area, leading his people to groves of annua nuts previously unknown. Delightful were these, more sumptuous and filling than any other they had discovered. Patoma’s child did show them how to harvest the nuts and to grow the plant closer to their homes.

“But despite these blessings it did not ease Patoma’s people. Many whispered that the child was possessed of the treacherous spirit Coyote and was only here to lure them into danger. They demanded Patoma to divulge the identity of the child’s father. Thus, the chief called all his people to him and did command Patoma before all his people to name her child’s father.

“Patoma looked at the chief. ‘Do you trust my word?’ she asked.

“’Of course, my child.’

“’Do you doubt when I say a trouble will come and destroy our tribe?’

“’I do not, my child.’

“’Do you think I would come and try to bring ruin upon my people?’

“’Most certainly not, my child.’

“’Then I say it is of no importance who fathered the child. Only that he will be a great warrior and will save our tribe so long as we respect his father’s desires.’

“But this did not satisfy the chief.

“’I ask of you, sweet Patoma, am I not both your father and your chief?’

“’You are, my chief.’

“’And do I not look after the safety of my people as if they were my children?’

“’Yes you do, my chief.’

“’Then I ask, if I am chief and I must honour my people what I should do if not quell their fears by demanding the name of your child’s father.’

“Brave Patoma would not give in however and finally her father issued his edict. ‘Either you disclose the patronage of your child or you and he must leave the tribe immediately.

“Patoma, to the surprise of her father gathered up her babe in her arms and turned to her people.

“’Know the decision made was by you. I shall do both so that you may learn the folly of your fear. Great Katahmin did give you this gift and you turned it away. Know that you shall see neither him nor I ever again!’

“Her people did protest and prostrate, crying out apologies and begging forgiveness. But mighty Katahmin did shake and shudder in rage. The river that filled their sacred lake shrank and dried up. The birds took flight and the fish died and rotted upon the salty sands that remained. The clouds about Katahmin turned black with his anger and in the chaos and ruin, Patoma and her babe disappeared forever.”

Felicity regarded the fop.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Well what of the threat to the tribe?”

“Oh. I believe they were conquered or something. Yeah, the final ruination was they were conquered a few years later.”

“Then where did the story come from if these people were destroyed?”

“I could call back S.J and you could listen to more of his condemnations if you’d prefer.”

Felicity waved away the suggestion.

“I think wrestling with the details misses the point, anyway,” Schroeder continued. “These people, they pass their history on in story. It’s not like these things are meant to be taken literally. There’s themes and lessons all wrapped in there.”

“Never trust a woman who marries a mountain?”

“I think they were aiming for tolerance and respect.”

“She married a mountain, Schroeder.”

“It’s symbolic.”

“A mountain!”

The train’s wheels screeched against a particularly sharp bend and the engine’s cabin shook. The pair could hear the steel hall clank against the pressing stone walls. Felicity reached for the brakes, slowing the lumbering beast as fast as she could. The very passage seemed to rumble with its deceleration and the patter of loose stone and gravel echoed above them like the gentle rap of an evening downpour.