The Breaker Rig – Part 1

Well people, the truth is I have not read anything of late. I have traveled a little, worked a little and written a little. But I have not been reading. So, to follow in the footsteps of others, I am going to foist my short story upon you.

** ** ** ** ** P1040326

Sophie’s stomach lurched upward as she gripped the edge of her seat with white knuckles. Her knees curled tightly around the chipped, hard edge of the two-person bench she blessedly shared with no one. With strained determination Sophie stared straight ahead.

The dark red carriage-car shuddered. Worn wooden benches shook against wrought-iron feet bolted to the floor. Glass windows rattled and the entire conveyance dropped suddenly before settling at its new altitude.

‘Mama, mama!’ The child on the opposing bench giggled. ‘Look. I can see trees.’

‘Indeed. See the ribbon of blue? That is the Kalska River. Can you spot any boats?’

From the corner of her eye, Sophie saw twin-braids bob as the child shifted in her seat. The girl pressed her snub nose to the glass. Bracelets of small dangling charms clinked as the child’s hands were placed to either side of her face. Her breath fogged the window in a gentle aura spreading out from the girl’s face, no doubt obscuring her view of the land below.

Sophie fretted her bottom lip between her teeth. The carriage-car and its collection of passengers held steady. Beneath the hum of conversation, there was the gentle whirl of the steam-powered engine propelling their transport north. Very cautiously, she relaxed the muscles in her hands. Gradually, she eased their hold so the edge was not as painfully biting.

‘Incredible is it not?’ The mother said directing her warm brown eyes to Sophie. ‘To believe we will reach Dawn City in only one day’s flight from White River!’

Sophie grimaced. ‘Air carriages are certainly much faster.’

‘Indeed, it would have taken us a week by steam ship. My husband made the journey this spring. They make you bring so many supplies when you move North. The Territory Guard are quite particular when it comes to immigrants. Every man heading to the gold fields must bring enough to last the winter. Inconvenient for those who will only prospect during the summer.’

The air carriage jostled in some unseen breeze. Sophie’s stomach knotted.

The woman continued to chatter, oblivious to the turbulence. ‘As family, we of course don’t need to bring as much. Besides I hear you can find anything you want in Dawn City, just as you could in the major cities farther south. Yes, Yuki, that is the river and the trees. No, child, it will be some hours yet before we arrive.’

The girl twisted on her seat in a manner Sophie assumed was designed to garner a better view of the earth. The earth that was so far from them at present.

‘You must also be meeting someone,’ the woman prompted.

Sophie pried her jaws apart enough to answer. ‘My sister.’

‘Of course! How lovely it is to have siblings in other parts of the country. I was always so delighted to visit my older sister, Suki. She married and moved back east; to the coastal capital Bington. What an adventure it was to cross the entire continent; it had such varied scenery to enjoy. I was fascinated by the wide sweeping plains, so flat you could see for days in any direction. That is the spread of our family: coast to coast. Of course, we didn’t have these marvellous creations when I was younger. Just regular rail-carriages running on tracks.’

‘I like rail-trains.’

P1040327‘Naturally, there is much to like about an entire string of carriages speeding along a well laid track. I will concede the level of comfort in the sleeper and dining cars is far superior to our limited confines. But this view’–the woman gestured to the window–‘is incomparable. This is like an adventure you would read in the papers. Oh, how exciting it is to be part of history. Is this your first time North? Of course, it must be.’

The woman nodded at Sophie’s rigid posture. ‘Well, welcome. I know, I know. I too am new to the North, but I can just feel it. Dawn City is going to be wonderful.’

‘Mama, what’s that?’

The woman shifted on the bench–sweeping her skirts to the side–she half stood to peer over the head of her child at the distant ground. Sophie saw the carpet bags stowed carefully under the seat. There was also a food hamper, likely obtained from their hotel in White River just for this portion of the journey. Sophie’s stomach gurgled softly, torn between nausea and hunger.

‘That appears to be some rapids. Yes, I do remember your father mentioning something of the kind in his letter home. They have cables; I believe they help the ships navigate this stretch. Slow going, another reason why it is better to travel by air than water.’

Sophie thought of her own letter, neatly folded in a similar carpet bag stored at her feet. It was well creased now. Only two months old and already it was showing signs of age.

‘What brought your sister North?’ The woman resumed her position demurely on the opposite bench. Everything was proper about her appearance, Sophie noted while keeping her eyes from roaming.

The brown hat with its fabricated flowers was pinned to a large, thick bun of dark, glossy black hair. The colour reminded Sophie of Anika, though her sister hated long hair. She complained it took too much work to keep nice. The woman’s dress had the structured bodice and military cut reflecting a war that raged across an ocean. The skirts were full but clearly lacked the extra crinoline layers favoured by fashionable women in the large southern cities. Sophie felt drab and poor in her faded brown cotton dress.

‘Did she move with her husband, or…’

‘She had a letter from our father,’ Sophie replied keeping her voice steady and factual. Anika received a letter and then was suddenly gone. ‘He found his way to Dawn City and started working a gold-field.’ At least that was what Sophie remembered. She didn’t have that letter anymore, only the echo of Anika’s words two days before she was gone.

‘Claim, the term they use is a claim. Though, I suppose in a way the gold is harvested from the ground. A family reunion, that is wonderful! I am certain you are most excited and nervous too no doubt. We give up so much to support our families. As exciting and adventuresome as it is I confess I was hesitant to leave everything familiar for the great unknown. It will be worth it though, when we are a family again.’

Yes she was going to be with her family too. She was going to see Anika again. Sophie thought of her sister, of Anika’s large brown eyes and energetic personality. Anika loved to move. She hated to sit still. Soon, they would be together again. The tension in Sophie’s shoulders eased. Anika was always good at taking care of things. Everything would be sorted once she got to Dawn City.

‘Sadly my husband is at the claim now. It is not so easy to move between the various claims and the town. There are no air carriages, only unkempt dirt roads.’ The woman sighed. ‘It seems like he left an age past, though of course I know it has only been a matter of months. I do worry though.’

Sophie watched as the woman’s fingers rubbed absently at the red bead charm on her left wrist. She recognized the worn protection charm. Everyone had one or something similar. It was one of the first charms attached to a child’s bracelet. It was a charm to keep the wearer safe; it offered general protection from the small accidents in life. There were other more specific charms. Sophie wore one to protect against disease and falling. Anika had another charm to protect her from sharp blades as she was prone to nicking her hands in the kitchen.

‘Mining is such dangerous work,’ the woman sighed.

‘I thought they were plucking gold from river beds.’ Anika had been interested in the gold discovery from the moment the stories appeared in the papers. Anika, who hated to read, was inspired to pour over the broad sheets twice daily for any scrap of information she could find. Any hint of gold or even of the far North was enough to still her restless body for a few minutes.

‘If only it were that easy. I suppose it must have started that way. Certainly the papers described the first discoveries as happenstance: gold nuggets glittering from beneath the creek’s trickle of water and awaiting discovery. If the gold was only found in rivers and streams then I am certain we wouldn’t be heading North now. No, I am sure all the gold hunters would have already stripped every once from the land. Indeed, there is nought by dust left in the waters and little enough of that.’

‘But Dawn City is growing. Anika, my sister, said it was a bustling place filled with – well everything. Tons of people still line the docks in Chesico to catch a ship.’

‘Is that where you are from? Chesico is a beautiful city. I love the spectacular views of the bay you get from the surrounding heights.’

Sophie nodded absently. She didn’t want to think of her home, now so impossibly far away. Sophie had never left Chesico before. Absently, Sophie’s fingers found the small silver charm. The precise strokes spelt the city’s name.

‘Is there no gold left in the North?’ Sophie wondered.

‘Oh, it is still there,’ the woman said leaning back in her seat. Her gaze drifted for a moment to a distant spot over Sophie’s shoulder. ‘It is buried deep within the land. It is a game now, trying to find it and then extracting it. That is what a claim is: a section of land leased from the government on which the hopeful dig for their riches.’

Sophie frowned. ‘It sounds like a lot of work.’

‘Dangerous work too.’ A shadow passed over the woman’s features. ‘There have been accidents on the claims and moving between the claims and town. The North is wild country filled with all sorts of challenges. Freezing cold, long winters, wolves, bears…’ The woman cast a sidelong look at her daughter, still happily peering out the window at a never ending ocean of wavering pine trees.

‘There are charms,’ Sophie said. ‘Protection against cold and wild animals.’

The woman shook her head. ‘Charms might help but the digging for gold… there is danger in the process. The mechanicals they use, well no one is entirely certain how well charming and mechanicals work together.’

‘Charms only enhance,’ Sophie said, the words of her teacher flooding through her mind. ‘They are a way to direct our actions and our futures. Charms have been sung into existence for thousands of years. If mechanicals fail, then how can we know it was a result of the charm and not the contraption?’

‘Spoken like a charmer.’ The woman smiled at Sophie. ‘I always thought charmers were a mysterious breed, cloistered away in churches and low ceilinged shops.’

Sophie laughed weakly. ‘There is nothing particularly mysterious about what I do.’

‘You must have a beautiful voice. I always wished I was better at singing. Yuki, though, has potential.’ The woman turned a fond look on her child.

A lull fell between them. Only now Sophie wished her companion was busy chatting. The constant stream of words had been a good distraction for all the uncertainties that lay before her. Sophie shifted in her seat. The cushioning had worn to threads. It did nothing to soften the hard wooden.

She could feel her eyes drawn to the window. The deceptive beauty of an azure sky lay beyond the stuffy confines of their carriage-car. With effort, Sophie resisted the draw of her thoughts out of the carriage and the immediate future. Instead she thrust her arm awkwardly forward and plastered a smile on her face. ‘Sophie Tammerik,’ she said. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Mrs. Lynda Yamata and my daughter Yuki. The pleasure is mine.’

*P1040255

‘We are falling!’ a passenger shouted.

‘Of course not, you old fool. We are descending. Just go back to sleep and everything will be fine.’

Sophie’s mind estimated the damage that would be done to the carriage-car should the two altitude balloons release all their gas without pause. Would the main bladder hold enough air to slow their descent? Would they crash in a splintering mess of metal and wood and bone?

‘We must be almost there, for I am sure those are cabins I can see,’ Mrs. Yamata said softly.

‘Look Mama, there are houses and streets and…’

‘And what my dear?’

‘Trees and water and rocks. There are piles of rocks, big ones.’

‘Ladies and Gentleman, please hold onto your hats we are approaching the platform for Dawn City.’

The voice rose above the general chatter of the carriage-car, stilling conversation to a low hum.

‘Who was that?’ Yuki asked twisting in her seat.

‘That was the conductor,’ Sophie supplied grateful for the brief distraction. ‘There is a bronze horn half way down the carriage. It connects to a mouth piece in the cab perched atop the car. The conductor, navigator and propulsion engineer are up there flying the air-carriage.’

‘Oh, have you been on an air-carriage before?’ Mrs. Yamata was just as calm as before.

Sophie shook her head. ‘I studied the model during boarding. They have an extremely accurate miniature of the air-carriage, complete with three canvass balloons and panelled interior. It is a superior charm,’ she added in appreciation for the craftsmanship that went into making the model.

Pressure built up in Sophie’s ears reminding of where she was. She moved her jaw in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. As her heart rate increased, Sophie scrambled to focus on something beyond the end of her short life. She hummed the charm for general protection. It was old and familiar: a child’s song. She had not actively sung its chords for some time now; her focus was on more advanced charms. The familiar notes loosed her tongue, until she was softly singing the words that accompanied the music.

The final drop slowed. With a jarring thump, the air-carriage landed.

‘Ladies and Gentleman,’ came the conductor’s brisk voice. ‘We have arrived at our final destination, Dawn City. Ensure you have collected all luggage before disembarking.’ Pause. ‘And thank you for flying with Northwind Transit.’

Sophie stood on shaky legs. Around her people unbuttoned coats and collected their bags. The car was quickly becoming hot and stuffy now they had reached ground-level. She followed the shuffling chatting crowd off the conveyance and into a clearing.

White and pink wildflowers added colour to the carpet of weeds which spread out to the boarder of wavering pine trees. The air was brisk and filled with foreign smells; tree resin, wood smoke, and crushed grass. It was different from the city, though not unpleasantly so.

The single platform was crowded with laughing and shouting people. Passengers, in crumpled clothes and wilted hats wobbled forward. Their movements were hampered by arms loaded with bags and packages. Townspeople, Sophie guessed, stood welcome before them. They were different from the travellers. Their clothing was rougher, dirtier and muted in colour. They stood with causal confidence watching the spectacle of new arrivals.

All around her, the constant throb of chatter was punctuated by shouts of joy as excited greetings were exchanged. Sophie searched the waiting faces for some familiar signs. She felt her stomach slowly sink as Yuki squealed and rushed forward into the waiting arms of an older man. Beneath the wide brim of his dusty hat, Sophie saw the scraggly edges of a beard a moment before the man embraced Mrs. Yamata.

P1040256Caught by the crowd, which had grown too large for the rough plank platform, Sophie spun trying to orientate herself. Behind her was the air-carriage, the late afternoon sunlight glinting off brass fittings and glass windows. A crew of uniformed workers were busy cleaning the interior and making ready for tomorrow’s departure.

Before her, along the western edge of the clearing was the station house. It was a log-structure, presumably made from the local pine. The round logs had been cut with notches at the corners and the town’s name had been carved into a sign that hung over the wide front stairs. The covered porch wrapped around the building, the only building. Where was the town?

Sophie’s eyes followed the shuffling mass of people, who appeared to be heading around the station house rather than into the building. Readjusting the handles of her carpet bag, Sophie followed. Though it seemed unlikely an entire city could be hidden by a single structure.

As she moved, Sophie checked each female face in view. Could she have forgotten the shape of her sister’s eyes or the pull of her mouth? Had it only taken a few months for Anika to become a stranger? None of the people in sight looked like Anika and certainly none stepped forward to greet her.

Around the back of the station house, was another platform that jutted out over the steep slope of a hill. From glimpses she caught between the trees, Sophie could see painted buildings at the base of the hill. She had not yet arrived in Dawn City. Hopefully the city would be more modern than the station house.

As she waited with the crowd, a heavy cable pulled a large basket to the edge of the platform. The metal wheel clinked to a stop and the man inside the basket called for people to load up after paying the required fee.

‘What is that?’ Sophie wondered, not realizing she had spoken until her neighbour answered.

‘The cable-basket,’ the older woman replied. ‘It ferries people between the town and the station. There are actually two. One will currently be loading people at the bottom, while this one loads them at the top. Then the cables will pull one up and the other down.’

‘How do they know when to move the baskets?’

‘The ferryman there,’ the woman said pointing a bent finger at the man collecting fees. ‘He rings a bell when everyone is loaded. There is a third man in the powerhouse operating the cables.’

Sophie swallowed. ‘Is that the only way down the mountain?’

‘You could always walk. I hear there is a narrow path that winds its way down, somewhere over there.’ The woman waved a dismissive hand back towards the station house. Sophie frowned and bit back her next comment. Instead she watched the full basket bob and bounce as it started its descent.

It was a slow process. Stuck in the middle of her basket, Sophie swayed and rocked with the constant movement. She bumped into the people around her, unable to keep her balance. While most were too dazed by their first ride in a cable-basket, several of those she assumed were townspeople scowled at her.

Welcome to Dawn City, Sophie thought glumly. The man standing with his arms crossed over his barrel chest nudged her away from him. They were more than halfway down the hill when the trees thinned and the city came into full view. Unfortunately, Sophie could see little past the tall shoulders of the other passengers.

In the small spaces that appeared between swaying people Sophie caught sight of buildings, streets and the glitter of light on water. What she did see was not evidence of a bustling city like Chesico, whose streets were paved with stone. Chesico’s downtown had buildings rising four and six stories tall. Dawn City looked small. It did not look any bigger as Sophie was pushed from the basket.

From the smaller platform, Sophie left the cable-basket and entered into Dawn City proper. People and wagons shuffled along packed dirt streets. Individuals with determined looks stood beside massive packs and crates. A year’s supply of rations piled together blocked the street to wagons. The raised boardwalks on either side were crowded with the better dressed and cleaner looking members of society. Men in dark trousers and white shirts watched carts of goods and people pass. Women in long skirts and wide-brimmed hats fanned themselves as they chatted with each other.

Timber buildings were painted in a myriad of different colours with garish trim around the windows and doors. False fronts made the buildings closer to the river appear taller and more imposing than the structures hidden behind.

Sophie walked in a bewildered daze through the streets. The press of bodies seemed to close in on her. It had looked so small from her position in the cable-basket. Yet walking from one full hotel to the next made the town feel expansive.

Her carpet bag grew heavy and banged awkwardly against her shins. The smell of bread and grilled meat wafted through the air causing her stomach to grumble loudly. How long had it been since she ate? Looking at the sun was of little help. The orange ball of light sat low on the horizon, a swollen orb that refused to surrender its place in the sky.

Fatigue and worry pulled at Sophie’s nerves. Her fingers played over the charms on her wrist. She needed help and rest; food and shelter. She turned down another smaller side street and spied the vibrant pink building. The fourth hotel Sophie had stopped at in search of a room had recommended the boarding house. She read the pealing orange letters painted on the side of the building: Patal’s Palace Lodgings.

Sophie rubbed the charm on her wrist as she climbed the wide front stairs towards the dark opening. She smiled at the miniature house nailed to the right of the front door. The carefully constructed replica of the boarding house shared the same garish paint job. It was also chipped and peeling. A nail had loosened and the miniature tilted on its perch just as the boarding house listed to the left.

The wide front door hung open. Inside the dim interior the front hall was painted golden yellow. The floor was scuffed green painted wood.

‘Hello,’ a young man said. Blue eyes sparkled curiously at her. ‘Are you new here?’

‘I hope so,’ Sophie replied licking dry lips. ‘Do you know where I can find the proprietor?’

‘I think Ms. Patal is in the kitchen,’ he waved his hand towards the back of the building, the charms dangling from his wrist jingled musically.

At the end of the narrow hall was the kitchen. Aromas of curried stew wafted out. Three young girls moved purposefully around the space from work counters to sink. The clatter of dishes and pots filled the air. Sophie salivated as leftover food was put away and dirty plates were cleaned for the night. At the centre of the dance was a tall woman dressed in bright pink and gold. Her long black hair fell in a single braid down her back. She wore a long sleeveless tunic over a split skirt.

P1040265‘Hello, hello,’ she sang spotting Sophie. ‘Welcome to Patal’s Palace.’

Dislodging herself from the kitchen, Ms. Patal flowed toward her. ‘A recently arrived adventurer? What has brought you to our magical land?’

‘I have come after my sister.”

Ms. Patal smiled. ‘Come to join your sister?’

‘To find my sister,’ Sophie amended.

‘So you will not be lodging with her.’

Sophie shook her head. ‘I … I don’t know if she is in town. I think she said she was working a gold-field–I mean a claim.’

‘Of course, of course. No doubt she will be here to greet you shortly. Until then you need a place to stay, yes? Well, let me think. I don’t know if I have any rooms left, summer is a very busy season for us…’

‘Where else can I go?’

‘There is no place like Patal’s Palace,’ the landlady sang. ‘I have just the thing. Follow me.’

Ms. Patal lead Sophie up three flights of stairs to a room stuffed in a small corner of the attic. The roof sloped. The bed creaked and sagged. The window was permanently shut in its orange frame. Atop the chest of drawers was a chipped ceramic washbasin and mismatched jug.

The landlady smiled as she gestured exuberantly at the room. ‘Meals are included: breakfast and dinner. The cost is paid by week.’ She looked expectantly at Sophie as she noted the price.

Sophie sputtered. ‘You want how much? For this miniscule space! I could easily get three times the space back in Chesico.’

Ms. Patal’s smile faded. ‘We are not in Chesico, now are we? If you don’t want the room, I am sure someone else does.’

‘No, no,’ Sophie hurried. She had already been turned away from several hotels. ‘I will pay.’

‘Don’t worry, I am sure we can fit the rest of your supplies somewhere,’ Ms. Patal said as she left.

‘I don’t have any other supplies,’ Sophie told the room. ‘And that is a good thing. I am glad Dawn City isn’t any bigger. I don’t think I could afford to stay here another week.’ She moved over to the window. ‘Don’t worry Anika, it shouldn’t take more than a day to find you. Then we can be on our way.’

Slipping out of her shoes, Sophie curled up on the bed. She let the fatigue of the journey pull her into the sweet oblivion of sleep.

Outside, the sun skimmed along the horizon. The sky dimmed but never fully darkened even Sophie drifted away in the realm of dreams.

The Good Bad

Making a movie is difficult. Making a good movie is really difficulty. And making a good “bad movie” is an art in-of-itself.

This past weekend was the Great Digital Film Festival which, I can only assume, was an initiative started by Cineplex Odeon Cinema to try and shore up some extra sales during that post Christmas lull where nothing but movies expected to die are released and most the populace is either recovering from holiday feast induced comas or are desperately trying to keep to their optimistic New Year’s resolutions until the end of the month when it’ll seem less pathetic when they invariably give them up.

How’s that for an opening sentence?

The Digital Film festival is filled with old cult classics–presumably because cult hits are the only type of film apt to still draw viewers years or even decades after release. I’m sure there’s some sort of commentary somewhere in there about the disposable entertainment of our generation and how art is meant to be immediately consumed and forgotten in an never ending pursuit of the latest big releases from our dominant industry overlords. We’re on the precipice here for some good, old fashioned futuristic dystopia with the way our tastes are dictated to us but, alas, this is probably just a moment of “old man yells at clouds.”

Mostly, I want to say that I saw Big Trouble in Little China this weekend. And I had fun.

Accessed from http://bitterempire.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/big-trouble-in-little-china.jpg

Big Trouble in Little China belongs to John Carpenter, 20th Century Fox, SLM Production Company and many more.

Yes, me. Yes, fun. It was as unexpected an event as world peace or a tasty English meal. Now this isn’t to say Big Trouble is a fantastic movie that everyone must see and totally a forgotten masterpiece that changes lives. It’s stupid fun but not the sort of “stupid fun” that I complain about in pretty much every other single release that hits the screens.

See, Big Trouble in Little China is a “bad movie.” By all reasonable measurements, it fails in every category worth discussing. It has undeveloped characters. It has a nonsensical plot fill with enormous holes. It has terrible special effects and awful cinematography. Its dialogue is oft-times incomprehensible. But unlike so many other movies, this is done intentionally. This was a beast of a movie made solely to be “bad.” And it is. And it’s great.

It reminds me of the type of comedy movie that I enjoyed as a child (and given the age of the movie itself–released in 1986–it’s probably made in that style). I’m thinking of the Leslie Nielsen pictures of yesteryear. The Airplanes and Naked Guns and whatnot. These movies were all parodies, deriving their humour by poking fun at the faults or cliches of the genres they spoofed. Then you have the Mel Brooks films which also steer into parody but also have a strong farcical component to them. I mean, one of Mel Brooks recurring jokes is having production elements slip into the action on the screen, whether it’s a boom microphone breaking a window interrupting Maid Marian’s song in Robin Hood: Men in Tights or Dark Helmet accidentally cutting down a cameraman during a mock lightsabre battle in Space Balls.

It’s a style of comedy that I haven’t really seen much nowadays. You could argue that Spy was a modern attempt at that parody/farcical style but it leaned far too much on gross humour and the standard “fat person falls down” that’s rampant. And it’s stupid but it’s not the same kind of stupid. That may be a strange claim to make but it’s true. There’s an air of “Screw it, let’s just do this,” in Big Trouble. It’s not dumb because the creator’s couldn’t do better. It’s dumb because it’s silly, fun and weird. I mean, I have no other explanation for the weird beholder monster or ugly Chewbacca that show up with little to no explanation in the movie. It shoots for the unexpected without trying to strike at shock value humour.

There’s a deliberateness that doesn’t come off as artificial. It feels like the creators set out to specifically make a bad movie, spoofing the elements that plague poorly created works much like Mel Brooks spoofs the technical gaffs of production. It’s in the little details, like villainous Lo Pan’s first name being David even though he’s depicted as an ancient Chinese sorcerer. Or Miao Yin arrives with a big box of baking powder. And, of course, there’s the bigger detail that Kurt Russell spends much of the action either knocked out, trapped under bodies, stuck in wheelchairs or chasing after knives. Course, he’s ostensibly only in the film because the villains stole his truck for no apparent reason other than, I presume, Lo Pan needed a honeymoon vehicle.

And yet, the strangest thing about Big Trouble in Little China is that somehow a movie thirty years old somehow bucks a lot of the issues prominent in our media now. Its female characters, while ostensibly serving as damsels in distress, end up getting involved in a number of rescue attempts and action. And their uselessness in combat is negligible given the plethora of female villains that the protagonists have to combat. Since, you know, everyone in China knows kung fu and the movie is most certainly happy to fall into Wuxia tropes at the drop of a hat. And outside of the principle male and female role, near everyone else is a minority. And while the narrative frame is to try and put the focus on Jack Burton and Gracie Law, the action and story is most assuredly set around Wang Chi and Miao Yin. Perhaps its because comedies aren’t expected to hold to conventions.

Accessed from http://cdn.hitfix.com/photos/6057863/Big_Trouble_In_Little_China_remake_news_article_story_large.jpgBut there’s a delicate balance in making a good “bad movie.” And while you can have some skill in doing so, like John Carpenter, you can also be completely clueless so long as you’re earnest.

I couldn’t help but draw some comparisons between Big Trouble in Little China and The Room of Tommy Wiseau fame. Both are pretty nonsensical, with perhaps The Room maintaining even less coherency than Big Trouble in Little China. And that’s without the aid of lightning riding martial artists or a man whose soul looks like a creepy, black haired Ronald McDonald. Whereas there’s so much deliberate shoddy work in Big Trouble, Wiseau addresses his film with all the earnestness and solemnity of an actual drama. You can tell that John Carpenter is in on the joke and yet he is still able to make you shake your head and leave you guessing where he’s going next. Wiseau, however, isn’t aware of any joke and the complete fumbling of his film is near an exact copy of everything that Big Trouble is mocking. The characters, narrative and pacing is so poorly done that you, as the audience, can’t help but laugh. In a sense, the fun of The Room is mean spirited but I can’t feel bad about it. First, The Room is really bad. Second, Tommy Wiseau is perhaps far more famous than he has any right to be. Finally, The Room is entertaining even if it’s not in the manner it wanted.

So, to make a good bad movie, you need to either be entirely clueless and talentless without the self recognition to realize you need improvement or you need to actually possess the skill to appear as if you don’t. Otherwise, you’re just making a bad movie and while that may be just as much work, it’s significantly less fun.

In short, I had fun with Big Trouble in Little China. On the other hand, I’ve just discovered that they’re going to make a reboot of this movie and now I’m back to being sad about the empty hearted consumerism of modern entertainment.

Forged in Blood – Book Review

Image from the internet of the book cover.

Image from the internet of the book cover.

The Emperor’s Edge series is seven books long – sort of. Book six was split into two books, literally called Forged in Blood I and Forged in Blood II. Of course, then the author, Lindsay Buroker, returned to the world and characters with at least two more books, but they are not part of the main series arc.

I want to start by saying that I really liked the Emperor’s Edge series. I think the writing and in particular the characters were really strong. I was fond of the way Buroker dealt with sexism in the world. Yes, there was a role for women. Unlike so many stories that have oppressed females tied to hearth and home, women’s role was that of businesswomen. They were the owners and managers of companies. The main villainous female wanted to create some powerful bank that would rule the world through its economy! While women are not part of the military base, a significant exclusion for a culture based around fighting and war, they were part of the city’s law-enforcement (granted that was a recent development in the world). I liked the way the author dealt with racism with her use of other cultures in that world.

While many would argue the dialogue used by the characters is not authentic to everyday speech, I would say: excellent! Have you listened to people talk to each other? It usually very boring and highly repetitive. Fortunately the author was far more creative in her use of language. The expletives may be a bit silly at times, but overall I really liked the character’s speech patterns. I enjoyed the witty, fast-paced banter. I actually liked that the author used words even I am not familiar with. I think using a bigger vocabulary than your audience does is a positive attribute. The words are easily understood through context and they have the potential to expand the vocab of the reader (or not as the reader chooses).

Most importantly I really liked the characters. Amaranthe, our feisty female lead was the only voice that was the same throughout the entire series. Buroker made an excellent decision to have the second voice in each book a different important character, a member of Amaranthe’s group of misfits. The different perspectives provided an engaging second window into the characters. It made for a very interesting read as we dealt with different perspectives and side quests.

P1050593That said, there is much of the world I didn’t like. I really am not a fan of the alien technology. I cannot say way, other than it feels so foreign (hehe, alien – get it!?) and disconnected from the rest of the world. I also am not a fan of the magic. They talk about it as though it is a skill, a Science, to be learned. Yet at the same time you seem to be either born with this ability or not. Further, magic can do anything it is seemingly limitless. Perhaps it is this lack of clear limitations to the magic and how it works that rubs me the wrong way. Or perhaps I am too akin to the Turgonians and their anti-magic prejudices. While I may not be able to articulate my dislike for the magic in this otherwise interesting, steampunk world, I was not a fan.

I suspect that my disinclination for the magic and aliens is related to the apparent power creep that happened over the series. As the heroes got stronger, the author felt the need to have bigger and scarier villains. Hence, the incongruous use of alien technology (the aliens have been gone for 50 000 years – the vast amount of time did not help endear me to these ancient space going peoples) and unrefined magic systems. Yes, it made the opponents more deadly, but was that really necessary?

P1050611While I liked the base concept of the last two books, I found the story steps more clichéd and less interesting to read than the earlier books. I feel that these last two books suffered from too much trying to happen. There was a lot of political manoeuvring and downright intimidation. Even the author struggled to find ways for our lovable band of misfits to stay relevant in the dramatically changing political landscape.

Further the introduction of Starcrest and his family, clearly characters from another story in the same world, also pulled attention away from the main caste. It was rather late in the series (which was in theory wrapping up) to have new faced shoved in taking centre stage. I have not read the other books related to Starcrest and his wife, so I was not inclined to love their ruthless inclusion into the rest of the story. I am sure their introduction could have been handled with a bit more tact.

P1050593If nothing else, if the author really wanted to finish on such a grand massive war stage, then don’t force the team together for smaller side quests. Have them split up and integrated into the larger fight. Instead, we had some strange struggle between our familiar core of main characters, bouncing about rather haphazardly, and this revolutionary plot occurring at the same time. It was messy. As a result, the author created smaller problems for our loveable main heroes to overcome. Unfortunately, mind controlling the assassin was silly. Blaming and burying Amaranthe in guilt for disastrous results of events largely outside her control was a bit forced. Books death would have been predictable, if I had been thinking about it in any way. Really, what other character could you kill off by the wise, old man; the voice of learning, experience, and sage advice? He is expendable for that clichéd emotional pull at the end to show that even our noble heroes must make the ultimate sacrifice (with one of the more tangential character’s deaths). When the rest of the series had felt so new and engage, the end was a trifle flat.

Conclusion to this seven book journey: I liked it. Even with all the flaws at the end, I thought it was fun, highly enjoyable read. I prefer earlier books to the later ones. This is largely because the earlier books have less alien technology and I can more easily ignore the magic. The later books rely too heavily on both these elements for my tastes. But the characters are compelling and strongly written. I would recommend the series, at least to the conclusion of the main arc. I am not yet convinced revisiting the world was the best choice, or one that will result in me getting the books.

The Returner

I see my sister has started posting. Perhaps the guilt was starting to get a bit much for her. I mean, it had been almost two whole months since she decided to place something on our little piece of the Interwebz.

Still doing a lot better than Derek, however. Apparently, he’s too busy running doomsday cults and trying to summon great Elder Ones to end Earth and all existence in a maddening song of death and delirium. But that’s fine. I got to see him and as a reward for trekking to his distant and damp apartment, he paid for a viewing of Oscar nominated and likely winner Leonardo DiCaprio’s The Revenant.

So here is my movie review:

It’s ok.

Yup, that’s it. Just ok. I’ve seen worse. I’ve seen better. DiCaprio isn’t the best actor in the film unless you consider lots of heavy panting noteworthy acting. Tom Hardy was quite good, however, and demonstrated a vastly different range of skill portraying the cowardly and inconsistent Fitzpatrick. Though billed as a “white man gets revenge flick for the death of his native family” the film is actually a “see North America beat the crap out of DiCaprio and him trying to eat every living thing in response” film. There’s light characterization, little plot between the three overlapping but ultimately shallow narratives and a bunch of poor decisions made by the principal actors in order for the story to move along.

Accessed from http://www.ew.com/article/2015/10/24/revenant-poster-leonardo-dicaprio

The Revenant, its images and all associated rights belong to Alejandro G. Inarritu, 20th Century Fox and whoever else.

It’s pretty, though. Not sure it justified the larger screen but there are plenty of moments you can forget you’re watching a movie desperately trying to win an Oscar and think you’ve stumbled across David Attenborough’s fevered dreams of the Secret Life of North American Fauna While on Crack. Though, I’m sure that mountain of elk skulls is meant to be artistic or symbolic or something.

The movie is simple, brutish and harsh which I suppose was the goal in order to communicate how much it sucked being a fur trapper on the edges of colonial America. There’s probably some other dialogue meant to occur that, beyond the confines of civilization, man just sorts of reverts to a barbaric and violent state of nature but that’s such a boring, tired and ultimately unfounded argument that I’m not going to indulge it any further. At the very least, I can tell you that the production crew were very meticulous in making sure their representation of fur traders and the frontier was accurate. I say this with confidence because Kait keeps dragging me to pioneer villages and everything I’ve learned from Fort William Historical Park to The Fort Museum in Fort Macleod was front and centre on screen.

Anyway, I don’t wish to go into the finer merits and demerits of the film. I’d rather complain about the Oscars.

Mostly, I don’t understand the appeal of the awards show. I know there’s been a large discourse over the institution and its implications for the entertainment industry in general in regards to representation. It’s a worthy conversation and one where the issues are pretty plain to see. Course, with such huge gobs of money involved, change will no doubt be slow and painful even as television starts making greater strides to prove that widely held truisms simply aren’t based on reality. Look at Marvel’s Agent Carter. There’s a show that’s presumably doing well, lead by a prominent female protagonist and (second season at least) has a minority co-star and love interest. Granted, you can see that in the new Star Wars too.

Anyway, I don’t want to bang on the social justice drum. I mostly want to express how baffling I find people’s obsession with the Oscars is in general. I simply do not understand the appeal. I mean, it’s an awards show. I don’t get why I should care. I especially don’t understand why I should care when the awards are doled out in an arbitrary fashion following the tastes and judgements of unnamed individuals who never need justify or provide oversight for their decisions. At least something like the People’s Choice Awards involves public polling to provide some sort of attachment for the viewership and the results.

But not the Oscars. No, their arbitrariness is meant to be accepted. It’s meant to be enjoyed.

I suppose it’s a testament to the entertainment industry that they can turn their own industry awards into a public spectacle that lots of people tune into and discuss fervently. You won’t find co-workers gathered around the water cooler who have obsessively tuned into the Queen’s Award for Enterprise to vehemently argue how Bonds Limited was robbed in the International Trade (Export) category in 2010.  And yet, you’re practically a philistine if you haven’t some horse in the race for Best Picture or haven’t heard of Spotlight let alone seen it. There’s tons of articles covering the politics of the Oscars and how actors or films will be rewarded not for the quality of their entry but as a sort of “pity award” for being ignored prior until the individuals had established their careers. When talking about likely winners, people are more likely to debate whether someone is too young or if the award should go to the guy who has been nominated six times and still hasn’t won rather than whether their specific performance deserves it or not.

Accessed from http://d2ciprw05cjhos.cloudfront.net/files/v3/styles/gs_large/public/images/15/12/duane_howard_0.jpg?itok=N0d5hqsaThis should probably sound familiar, given the opening of this rant. I wouldn’t be surprised if DiCaprio wins for his nomination despite, as I said, his acting in this movie boils down to learning about twenty lines then rolling around in dirt for an hour and a half. People will debate how this is such a great injustice. People will argue how the films nominated don’t deserve their recognition when other films were snubbed.

But for me, I think it’s stranger that we’re talking about this. Unless you were involved in the production itself or are cheering for a family member, I simply don’t understand why you’d care. It’s the same reason why I never understood the Spike sponsored Video Game Awards. My life is literally unaffected whether The Revenant wins best picture or Fallout 4 continues to be loved by critics and fans despite being one of Bethesda’s worse products in recent years. Of all the awards in all the industries, why is it people are so interested in the Academy’s movie awards?

I don’t mean this to ruin anyone’s fun or detract from the conversation regarding its process people wish to hold. I am merely perplexed and can’t help but wonder why there’s such public involvement in this sector and why no one has been able to harness that involvement to improve it for the better.

And why can the average person riddle off all the Oscar Best Actor nominees but not name a single Nobel Prize winner for the same year? Where have our priorities gone?

Age of Adeline – movie review

This image belongs to the owners of the film and its distribution rights - not me.

This image belongs to the owners of the film and its distribution rights – not me.

It has been a terribly long time since I posted. I apologize. There have been many reasons. I had password issues that meant I was unable to log onto the blog for a couple of months. I have been travelling (as Kevin has already mentioned). I have been busy living in Japan and so have consumed little media (certainly little worth comment) and I have been a little lazy. Well, I am back and while I do not make promises to be regular I will certainly try to do better.

The first thing I would like to review is a movie. It is not a new movie. In fact I watched it in August while on a 14 hour flight from Japan to Tokyo.

I knew practically nothing about The Age of Adeline when I selected from the limited pool of available movies. Whatever I might have thought it would be about (something through time based on the costume clips), it wasn’t. It was however, surprisingly good. A movie that I really enjoyed enough that I have actually watched it again.

The Age of Adeline was released in April 2015 to moderate reviews – apparently. I was just looking this up on the internet. Sometimes it is best to go into a film with as little information as possible. It certainly worked to my advantage for this one. The movie tells the story of Adeline, born January 1, 1908. Through an accident and science-magic she stops appearing to age when she is 29 years old. The story is mostly told from the present day with a few flashbacks to various points in her life. It is a romance in the classic, predictable way of romances. However, knowing how it is going to end does not spoil the journey, at least for me.

What I liked about this Sleeping Beauty-esq tale was the voice of the film. Not literally the man who did the voice-over exposition at the start and end of the movie, although I liked that choice. It was the feel. I liked the costumes, the cinematography, the way the characters conversed, and the flow of the story. I suppose I liked the clean, simple tale of life that had nothing to do with massive explosions, overly dramatic moments or superheroes. Perhaps it was the change that appealed most to me as other people didn’t seem to enjoy the film as much as I did.

This image is also from the movie and not owned by me.

This image is also from the movie and not owned by me.

I thought the story of Adeline Bowman to be interesting. It may not have touched on her past as much as I would have liked, but I think it hit all the key moments. I also enjoyed those small moments that connected past and present. For example when she is attending a New Year’s Eve party at a fancy hotel and looking at photos on the wall, which include her with a different group of people some fifty or sixty years earlier. She was a classy character and I found Blake Lively’s soft-spoken performance compelling. I liked the costume choices and the touch of old that even the modern Adeline incorporated into her wardrobe. Visually, the film was appealing.

The rest of the cast was also engaging. Adeline’s daughter was the most interesting relationship and unfortunately the weakest. It would have been interesting to explore more of the hardships of watching your child age as you do not. Though they did try to do some interesting things between the characters, it was not the greatest strength of the film. After all this was a romance. As such it focused mostly on the present day love interest of Ellis Jones and the older love interest of William Jones.

This is not my image and I do not own it.

This is not my image and I do not own it.

Yes, those two are related as father and son – one of the more … awkward moments. Though no one seems to really make much of a deal that William had been ready to propose to Adeline long before he married Ellis’ mother. I recognize the use of this sort of relationship (father and son both falling in love with the same ageless woman) was done in order to move the plot forward. It was used to force Adeline to face her own life and choices. Still I thought it a bit much that Adeline’s Prince Charming was the son of the man who wanted to marry her some 45-ish years earlier. I suppose it did add for an interesting exploration of William’s character and whether he was still happy with his choices after so much time had passed.

The Age of Adeline was a nice story. I really enjoyed watching and would recommend it as a good, sweet romance.

Gonna Have Your Mana

So let’s continue where I left off last week regarding Summoner Wars and it’s design… decisions.

To summarize, the game does not seem to meet its assumed design goals with numerous detractors complaining about how the game promotes and encourages stalemates, passive play and general undesirable attitudes. Last time, I pointed out a few of the game rules that I feel contribute to these issues. Today, I want to discuss my way of overcoming them.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/framex-e.html?file=html/a/aelst/stilliff.html

Fruit Still-Life by Willem Van Aelst (1677).

Way back in the summer, I shared my lovely discovery of house rules and homebrews–how a personal touch can take a game and make it all the more tailored to my tastes and preferences. I got to thinking to myself, since I won’t be playing this game with anyone but my sister, it doesn’t matter if I explore a few tweaks and changes to the game that would improve the style of play that my sister enjoys. Namely, she wants to rush across the board and smash face. Coincidentally, this style also appears to be the same that beginners and the Android app utilize so I figured if I could get the system to work as such it would be closer to the design goal that Plaid Hat Games set out to achieve.

So, to accomplish this, I took a moment to stop viewing Summoner Wars as a player and started looking at it as a designer. I thought to myself, “What would I do if I were approached to design Summoner Wars 2.0?” I let the sky be the limit with the tweaks and changes I could accomplish. I looked at the system and pondered what were the key elements to its identity and what parts of it drew me to it. What sets this boardgame out from the rest that should be highlighted?

Really, it’s the blend of board and card that I found the most intriguing. Without the strategic movement and zone control, Summoner Wars is just an incredibly watered down and less dynamic game of Magic: the Gathering. It struck me as such a missed opportunity that the game didn’t have a greater interaction with the board itself. Sure, placement of walls could help funnel or block off avenues from an opponent but the size of the board, the numerous movement options available and the forward summoning off walls mechanic helped to really reduce what strategic value there was in controlling the spaces on the board itself. There is little gain moving your forces and fighting for those spaces between your side and the enemy’s when he can instantly summon reinforcements on his turn and undo all the work you’ve done on your turn.

And the more I thought about it, the more I really didn’t like the summoning mechanic. Ostensibly, it’s made to advantage the aggressor as a forward wall should allow better reinforcement of an assault into enemy territory. The unfortunate reality is that wall summoning wholly benefits the defender. So something there had to change.

I remember a number of suggestions from people in the community was to remove the benefit of gaining magic from killing your own troops. And while I could understand the reasoning behind that, I didn’t like it for several reasons. One, I didn’t think it would encourage more common troop usage since you wouldn’t be able to reclaim some of that investment when you played the card. And two, it didn’t address the fact that building commons for magic was near universally the better move.

And that’s when I started to think about the resource management of Summoner Wars. In my review of the Alliance set, one of the things I harped on repeatedly was that cars with abilities which cost magic were, invariably, worse than ones that didn’t. The biggest reason was that their abilities were never really worth the additional payment. As I pointed out in the last article, if you wanted to play all three of a standard set of six costed champions, you’d have to build every single common in your deck (and thus have to self kill the ones starting on the board) to afford them. Having commons with abilities that cost magic was even worse. On the one hand, you can generally view it as a one time payment since commons only last a turn, but if chance goes your way and that card doesn’t die then you’re now invested way more into that card that is ever worth the price of its ability. Or you don’t use it on the second turn in which case it’s a blank card ability wise.

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/framex-e.html?file=html/a/aelst/deadbird.html

Still-Life with Hunting Equipment and Dead Birds by Willem van Aelst (1668).

This turned out to be the biggest problem. The hard limit on the amount of magic in the game wasn’t actually an interesting strategic element. It was a restrictive one that strangled gameplay into one of two styles: either you commit to the subpar common spam and hope that lucky dice will see you through an assault that will otherwise flood your opponent with far more magic than she’d normally expect to have, or you save all your cards to fuel your three big hitters. And the great irony, once again, is that going champion focus is more advantageous because if you’re building all your commons for magic then you’re going to be drawing lots of cards at the start of your turn. You get enough economy in two turns of building in order to play those champions as well as get the draw you need in order to find them in your deck.

And this was the crux of the issue. Magic generation was too good. It is my opinion that if you want to play a champion then it should come at some sort of equitable cost. Say, if there was a way to restrict the amount of magic earned per turn, then you couldn’t be assured you’d have the resources to pull out that champion on your next turn if your opponent realized your plan and tried to counter your passive play with an aggressive attack. Furthermore, if we divorced magic generation from being restricted solely to your deck then it would diminish the influence of paid abilities on your economy management. It wouldn’t, however, diminish the strategic weight of using abilities.

So, after making a rather lengthy design document of changes and ideas, I sat down to start testing them. What I discovered was actually surprising. Very few changes needed to be made to completely flip Summoner Wars on its head. While I would still explore a different direction if heading Summoner Wars 2.0, I didn’t actually have to create an entirely new game to save the original.

Here are the Major Changes (TM):

  1. Magic Drain: There’s simply no way to address the game without touching on this event. Everyone recognizes it’s a problem. I wanted to weaken it but not make it useless. Thus, Magic Drain was turned into, “Choose an opponent. Remove up to three cards from the top of that opponent’s Discard Pile and place them on top of your Discard Pile.” (As a side note, I personally removed all “fewer Unit” restrictions on every Event card since this was an unnecessary element that encouraged people to not play commons.)
  2. Summoners: All summoners have a generic ability inherent to being a summoner. It reads, “Instead of attacking with this Summoner, you may move the top card of your Discard Pile to the top of your Magic Pile.”
  3. Summoning: The summon phase was revamped. Instead of summoning beside a wall, all players summon units into a Reserve Pile. While in this pile, a unit is not considered “in play” in regards to being targets for events and abilities. During the Movement Phase, however, they may enter the battlefield from the back row of the player’s board. During the summoning phase, however, a player may spend 1 Magic to place one Unit from their Reserve Pile adjacent to a Wall they control. To be clear, this ability is limited to once a turn. You can reinforce an attack but it is slow and costly. Likewise, you can try and dislodge attackers from your walls but it will cost you magic and unless you have board control, it will be without reinforcements.
  4. Building Magic: The Build Magic phase is split from the Discard Phase and occurs first. All Units, when killed, do not go to a player’s Magic Pile but to the killing player’s Discard Pile. During the Build Magic Phase, the player rolls a die. On a result of 1-3, the player may add one card from the top of their Discard Pile to their Magic Pile. On a result of 4-6, the player may add two cards from the top of their Discard Pile to the Magic Pile. During the Discard Phase, players place any number of cards from their hand into their Discard Pile.

So what does this confusing mess mean?

Every player has a passive 1-2 Magic generation during their turn assuming they have cards in their discard. That said, generate magic is very difficult on your first turn unless you either play an event (I’m currently testing both players draw a full hand at the start of the game instead of only the second player) or you make a kill. This makes the first turns very interesting. Obviously, killing your own units is easiest since you’ll have more cards in position to attack your units. On the other hand, having less units means that you have fewer answers if your opponent rushes across the board. With so little magic, your second turn you’re very unlikely to put more than one unit on the board and chances are it’s coming in from reserves instead of being summoned off the wall.

Suddenly, the early game has become incredibly important. Starting with five units on the board is now a boon instead of hindrance. And playing defensively got so much harder. The game really changes when, at best, you can generate 3 Magic a turn. That means if you want an average costed champion, you have to save up two turns worth of magic. Possibly three if your dice are poor. Which brings me to an interesting point: Why make magic generation random?

Accessed from http://www.wga.hu/framex-e.html?file=html/a/aelst/stilmous.html

Still-Life with Mouse and Candle by Willem van Aelst (1647).

Summoner Wars is a game that relies inherently on chance. Even with the best planning, everything can turn on a dime if you roll all misses and your opponent rolls all hits. I feel part of the skill of Summoner Wars is understanding the odds and adapting to misfortune. I wanted specifically to make economy generation an uncertain action. If I’m sitting with Silts in my hand, I want the player to have to make a decision informed by the fact that they don’t know with 100% certainty whether they can have Silts out next turn or the turn after. It, once again, encourages common play since their low cost is now an advantage. You probably have one or two magic floating around in your pool since you automatically generate that at the end of your prior turn. Is it more important to get out a defender now to protect Krusk? Or can you afford to wait one or even two more turns to get the powerful Silts to the board?

And with the slower arrival of champions, it gives a greater window for a common focused strategy to gain board advantage and momentum. Before, an aggressive player basically had one turn to try and win on an assault unless they had secured a large economic advantage earlier in the game. Now, an aggressive player can have up to three turns of an advantage against a defensive player.

So, the good news. These changes made the game very exciting and very different. Not only is aggressive common play viable but it’s practically the default. In my testing, I’ve noticed a huge inversion in the decks that are really powerful. Suddenly, the Mountain Vargath have become a powerhouse which, when looking strictly at their numbers, they should have been from the start.

There is bad news, however. This doesn’t balance the game by any means. This just makes a new power balance. Sadly, the difficulties of the game have made it such that my goal of not needing to rebalance specific factions or cards (outside of Magic Drain) a near impossibility. Oddly enough, the Filth seem to come out even better with the new changes and I’m toying with a specific change to their faction to bring them more in line with everyone else. And the biggest losers? Turtlers. The Deep Dwarves and Tundle in particular have really taken a hit. Turtling and defensive play right off the bat is a much harder strategy to adopt. I don’t have a problem with this, however. While Tundle is a lot worse beneath these rules (I changed his ability so that he can Meditate for 2 Magic instead of 1, by the way), if he does manage to sit back and make a massive stack of magic, he is really powerful. Getting to that late game, however, is a slog.

Overall, I’m really happy with these changes. Granted, there’s a lot of finicky situations that arise and I often have to errata some interactions or powers on the fly to adapt to the new system. For example, I move the choice of boosting units to when they enter the battlefield and not when they are summoned into the Reserve Pile. Partly, this keeps from having to balance tokens on a stack of cards. Mostly, this makes it so they aren’t completely awful to use.

But I’m really happy with the outcome of these tweaks so far. While not perfect, it’s surprising how big and how positive an impact they’ve had on the game so far. I’d recommend people to try it out if they are looking for a big change up to how Summoner Wars can play. At the very least it casts old mechanics into a new light that’ll make you look at the game in a way you hadn’t before.

Too Common for Me

One thing not mentioned about my sojourn to Japan was the long hours reserved for myself away from friends and creature comforts of home. One of the defining element of our lives which we hardly pay much attention to (or too much depending on who you ask) is the importance of entertainment. Part of the whole idea behind the Industrial Revolution was to develop more leisure time for the average individual that they could enjoy personal pursuits and self-improvement without being enslaved to the daily toil of the farming life.

Which, given Victorian sensibilities, I can only assume is code for them trying to get people to stop drinking so damn much.

Well, unfortunately, I’m already on that Victorian bandwagon and am hardly going to fret away what few pounds sterling I have on something so ephemeral as alcohol. And in this glorious age of technology, we’ve done a pretty thorough job of expanding the options for amusement. Games, movies, television, songs and art are all available for a pittance with the connectivity of global telecommunications.

But despite the global reach, there’s still a strong regional influence. All of this is to say that there’s not a hell of a lot to do in Japan if you don’t like watching Japanese variety shows, observing Japanese baseball games or drinking in Japanese pubs. I didn’t have my precious computer either so most online options were restricted especially given Kait’s rather spotty Internet provider.

Thankfully, some of the local ALTs thought to band together and hold a boardgame night. Unfortunately, they did it once while I was there. However, it did remind me of the digital program for running the games I owned at home. Course, then I remembered that Kait hates the digital interface and won’t play with me on it.

So, the long and the short of it is I ended up spending a fair bit of time playing Summoner Wars by myself. How’s that for a rambling lead-in?

Yes, this is going to be another damn Summoner Wars post. Yes, this is mostly because I’m busy with other work and haven’t done much that’s exciting since coming home other than lie in bed and try to recover from this flu. Such is life.

Actually, if I’m being honest, my discourse today didn’t come quite as organically as I pretend. What truly got me thinking and poking around with the game systems of the heavily flawed game was the four hour bus ride to Hirosaki. I tried to download some Android app games to amuse us on the road only to find that most mobile games are utter trash. Sorry, that’s elitist. Most mobile games do not meet the stringent requirements of my refined tastes.

That’s better.

However, while we spent most of our time lobbing digital artillery in a free version of battleship, I remembered that one of the things I found fascinating with Derek’s smartphone (back in the day) was how he was able to play the boardgames we usually pulled out when I visited on his bus rides to and from work. I poked around what was available (read: free because I’m not convinced I’m going to use any app enough to warrant a purchase) and lo and behold Plaid Hat Games had a version of the game online. I gleefully downloaded it, then had the damn thing crash on my four or five times while I refused to register my Google account with its psychographic services.

I did manage to get it working… somewhat. I’d be more annoyed if I properly signed up for it and it was still this unstable. But I’m not here to review the software. Instead, playing the game repeatedly with only the Phoenix Elf summoner Prince Elien made me realize something important about Summoner Wars:

It’s a bad game.

http://www.plaidhatgames.com/fulfillment/sites/default/files/3d-box-right-sw-peto.png

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

I know, I’ve complained about its design before and at this point I’m unlikely to be selling anyone on it anyway. My continued discourse around it, once again, lies in my sister’s interest and the fact that it is so simple that analyzing it is much easier. It’s like learning to dissect a fetal pig before plunging wholesale into a dead body trying to figure out what killed it. I’ve listed the numerous issues that Summoner Wars has faced before. But it wasn’t until I was playing match after match against the AI and soundly trouncing it in games against decks and cards I’d never even seen before that I realized just how poorly the game is made. And we can argue subjectivity and whatnot until we are blue in the face but I can categorically state the game is bad on one objective criteria:

Summon Wars is highly unintuitive.

This is to say, the way to win at Summoner Wars is not the way you’d expect to play when you first look at the rules. Course, pick up any game and you’re not going to understand its intricacies or nuances, however the design of the game itself seems to underline the intent of its design. Perhaps I’m putting too much credit in the programmers hands, but when the official mobile app isn’t even programmed to play in a manner that would lead to victory it makes me think that the design itself is doomed to failure.

So what am I getting at? Simply put, Summoner Wars hates commons. It’s a game that, thematically, is meant to simulate a combat between opposing armies. But all of its gameplay elements discourage or outright punish you for fielding an army. Common units are the most prominent piece of a player’s deck and are easily the least valuable. Worse than that, they’re negative value.

It was rather remarkable, actually, watching the AI lob legion after legion of its own forces against my side churning into an unending meat grinder of points that skyrocketed me to victory no matter which opponent I set myself against. It didn’t even matter if I tried playing with my faction’s worst cards as the matches continued to be lopsided so long as I didn’t mimic the suicidal tactic of wasting all my resources on buying the rank and file soldiers of my deck. I couldn’t help but think how discouraging this must be for newer players to be presented a system, given a baffling rundown of how it works and then intuitively play over and over again in a manner that only assured defeat.

Seriously. Can you imagine what chess would be like if the very act of moving your piece towards your enemy was categorically losing option? If you, as an uninformed player, are told the rules of a game, the mechanics shouldn’t work against the general idea of how you expect to play.

So why do commons suck so much in Summoner Wars? A shorter question to answer would be “when do commons not suck?”

Let’s look at a basic component of the game to highlight the issue. The two primary combat phases–movement and attack–are both regulated by the same restriction: a player–unless a card specified otherwise–can move with and attack with a maximum of three cards per turn. Ok, seems harmless enough. Except, the goal of the game is to kill the enemy’s summoner, a card which is permanently on the board and in play. Given the short length of the board, the high value of the summoner and the importance of keeping her alive, you’re most likely going to be using one of your three precious movement/attack options on your summoner. There is no benefit to putting a unit on the board which you aren’t planning on moving or using for an attack since there are almost no passive abilities that give you a general benefit. Playing your summoner defensively is far easier than offensively since the situations that allow instantaneous reinforcement don’t usually happen on the enemy’s side. Thus, you’re able to use your summoner with far less risk than someone attacking. Thus you’re incentivized to play defensively…

Another issue with common units is that they’re just so fragile. The vast majority are one or two health and getting two or more dice on an attack is pretty easy. This is to say that your poor common is, on average, going to live one round. If you can’t hit with it that round then you’ve just wasted your magic summoning it. Ambushing units on your side makes it more likely that you can get into position than marching them across the enemy’s empty spaces. Thus, defensively you’re at an advantage and…

It just keeps piling up. The real nail, however, is in the game’s fundamental economy. The resource you have for using many of your events and summoning your units is magic. Magic is composed of the units killed by the forces you control or the cards dropped from your hand. Since you always draw up to five at the start of your turn, there’s really no reason for you to hold onto the numerous commons that make up your deck. Furthermore, putting them on the table costs magic and if they just turn around and die to your opponent then you’ve given them magic. Most commons cost one or two magic. Champions, on the other hand, cost around six. So they’re about a turn of discarding your hand, have double or even triple the attack and health of a common and usually have unique or stronger abilities in comparison too. Champions, with their larger life, are more likely to last more than one round so can make the treacherous crossing into the opponent’s territory. They have the attack value to actually do damage while alive too. They’re so expensive you’re not likely to have many out at the same time and since there’s a limit on unit movement and attack, it’s hard to deal with them strictly through commons on the enemy’s side. Especially without using more magic to do so.

http://www.plaidhatgames.com/images/games/summoner-wars/factions/filth/chm-TheAbomination.jpgChampions are better in every way. They have a downside, of course, and that’s their cost. All decks in Summoner Wars have 32 cards (2 walls, 9 events, 3 champions, 18 commons) in them so that puts a hard limit on the amount of magic a player can generate in an entire game. If you only want to summon champions and let’s say you want to summon all three, you have to devote 18 magic to them. Using your own cards to build magic is the most assured way to get your magic so you’re devoting over half your deck to summoning those champions. And that’s not even taking into account any of the 9 events you may want to play or your 2 walls buried in there as well.

Let’s do some math!

3 Champions at 6 Magic = 18 Magic

32 Deck – 18 Magic = 14 Cards

14 Cards – 2 Walls – 3 Champions – 9 Events = well I’ll be damned.

So, in conclusion, Summoner Wars restricts the number of commons you can use per turn and makes them compete with higher valued champions and summoners. It designs them to be fragile and unable to compete with champions and summoners in a one-on-one engagement or even with each other. It then forces you to decide whether you want those commons in the first place or would you rather have the economy to afford those game winning champions. Because every common you put on the field is a common you have to kill of your opponent’s if you want a champion.

And if he’s saving up for his own champions then… well…

But this isn’t all doom and gloom. I’ve been working on an idea.

War of the Stars

Alright, it’s been awhile. Surely, the end of December silence must have been understandable (I completely meant to make a post saying we’d be off for the holidays but, well, it was the holidays). The end of the old year and the start of the new also involved a rather delightful trip through Japan’s southern prefectures so neither Kait nor myself were in a position to be making posts.

Derek, as usual, didn’t care.

Since then we’ve had some issues with logins, I’ve returned home and got a lovely cold for my troubles and so the new year has started off with a bit of a sluggish stumble.

But that’s OK because I’m here now to give you my thoughts and feelings and words.

Because I love you.

I originally was not going to post about this subject matter. I felt I had very little to contribute to the global discourse and, frankly, I had little desire to engage with the discussion in the first place. But, alas, the discussion continues and it’s hard to keep out of something that keeps throwing itself in my face.

So today I shall give you my thoughts on the new Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

I’ll cut right to the chase–I did not care for it. Surprise!

Accessed from http://www.starwars.com/the-force-awakens/images/share_1200x627.jpg

Star Wars belongs to Disney now. All hail our marketing overlords.

This isn’t to say I hate it. That reaction is reserved for my sister. It appears I’ve created a bit of a monster and I couldn’t be any more proud. She gets so angry with mass consumption media now that I hardly need to dredge up some casual ire for the factory produced schlock. Each flaw and inconsistency sticks in her craw like a… well an indigestible insect in the throat of a bird. Shallow characterizations, unnecessary action beats, clichéd conflicts and marginalization of women and minorities are all aspects that stand out in stark relief upon her movie going experience. She longs for the days when she was ignorant and blind.

So, yeah, she hated Star Wars. We both like to joke that the best thing about the movie was the mixed bowl of caramel and salt covered popcorn but it was also the truth. Furthermore, the containers were only five dollars and gave far more popcorn than I could possibly eat which strikes me as a better deal than anything I’d find in Canada.

Well, before you close the browser with fury over our misguided opinions (if you haven’t already), I’d like to discuss what does drag The Force Awakens down. For I’d like to believe even if you truly loved the movie you’d still be open minded enough to recognize its flaws. Nothing is ever perfect and it’s important we point out the good and the bad so that what we attempt next can be an improvement. Right?

So let me make a concession. The Force Awakens is not the worst Star Wars movie to be released. It’s better than the prequels–yes, all the prequels no matter which someone may have found to not be completely awful. I was hoping there would be a greater “race to the bottom” over which could possibly fail the hardest as a piece of cinematic entertainment. The fact that the Force Awakens was so competent was my greatest fear. It’s not a terrible movie, especially not in consideration with the other entries in its franchise: it’s just a boring one.

I think my uncle summed it up the best: “It’s just missing something that made the first so special.”

That something is novelty.

Kind of a strange accusation to raise against a series that hasn’t ever been anything but an homage or pastiche of space operatic science fiction. The original Star Wars drew heavily from such sources as Flash Gordon–a movie which George Lucas wanted to originally direct but was not given the privileged and led to the creation of Star Wars–not to mention practically bragging about ripping from acclaimed directors like Kurosawa and mythology as a whole. It’s a fair argument even if it ignores that all art builds upon itself. It’s also a deflection because there’s a difference between being inspired or borrowing to outright copy.

There were a lot of people that did not like J.J. Abrams Star Trek. I wasn’t one of them. I really enjoyed the reboot and I appreciated its differing direction. There was a dialogue about whether it truly contained the spirit of Star Trek or not but I appreciated the attempt to shine a new light on characters and a series that was over forty years old. If I wanted the old Star Trek movies… well, they’re still there in all their glory untouched and unchanged by Abrams brash reinterpretation. On the other hand, I loathed Into Darkness. Whereas Abrams first movie went to great lengths to untangle itself from the vast swathe of history and baggage of the Star Trek franchise, Into Darkness was nothing but an empty mimicry of one of the series most cherished instalments. It was choked to the brim with inside jokes and cheap copies of once famous scenes.

You can probably guess where this is going.

Accessed from http://a.dilcdn.com/bl/wp-content/uploads/sites/6/2015/02/EP6_KEY_42_R.jpgI feel ultimately my issue with the Force Awakens is my issue with the prequels (outside of the general issue of the prequels being rubbish). There’s this misguided nostalgia that surrounds Star Wars and blinds people to the actual films. I loved them as a child but it’s folly to believe that they’re anything other than just good films. And like all other good films, they are replete with issues and points of weakness. I mean, the special effects for their time may have been great but no one is buying that this guy is anything but a dude in a blue rubber elephant suit. However, the issues run further than poor CGI work and anyone trying to convince you otherwise is hopelessly fanatic.

And yet if you listen to George Lucas discuss his work on the prequels, he spent so much time trying to get them to “rhyme” with the originals. Likewise, it’s painfully obvious that–whether through adoration or fear of angering the masses–The Force Awakens was made to be as boringly close to A New Hope as possible. But this isn’t 1979 and the novelty of A New Hope has long since worn off. It’s flaws, however, have been left in stark relief to its rather dull paced action and simplistic characters. It seems both Lucas and Abrams seemed to miss this point. You can’t keep blindly replicating the same thing over and over again. People will tire of the same high points and the flaws will only grow worse and worse.

The Force Awakens demonstrates this point exactly. Its narrative is near an exact copy of A New Hope with a few cosmetic changes and little else. You can predict the death of characters scenes in advance simply knowing when characters died in the original. So much of the movie painfully draws itself and its parallels back to the first that I was hardly a third of the way into the film wondering to myself, “If I so badly wanted to watch A New Hope, I’d just put on A New Hope.”

If I were a person more invested in the series, I might even be insulted that all the original trilogy managed to accomplish was resetting the franchise back to state zero. All that blathering about bringing balance to the Force, defeating the Empire and whatnot and here we are with no one knowing the Force except some old white hermit and a Nazi-inspired military force that’s hell-bent on being evil and ravaging the galaxy. They even still use stormtrooper armor in case anyone might have difficulty pinpointing the group that wants to tyrannically rule the galaxy. How cute.

And let’s not let Abrams off the hook for trying to pitifully pull heartstrings with Finn the lovable stormtrooper who takes all of ten seconds to get over his traumatic experience of war and the death of his colleague stormtrooper to begin mercilessly gunning down the rest of his co-workers in droves as he busts his best friend forever Poe from jail after knowing him for less than ten seconds. It’s probably because his boss was a woman and drove him crazy, right?

Accessed from http://the-indie-pendent.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/starwars_a_new_hope.pngThere’s an endless list of these issues but this isn’t a movie that would benefit from ironing out the small details when the fundamentals are so misguided. What they should have done with the sequels was what Abrams did with his first Star Trek. Only now, you don’t have to spend so much time explaining why you aren’t following the same tired three characters for another trilogy of movies since the originals did such a thorough job already. In fact, the only thing that Abrams needed to do was the one thing he completely avoided. He didn’t talk at all about what happened with the end of the original movies. There was no explanation for what happened with the Empire or even what the hell “balancing the Force” is suppose to mean. Clearly, no one knows what to do with either of these major plot points from the originals so they were just sort of trotted out again as the typical stage horse.

Personally, I’d rather see the galaxy in the aftermath of the originals. I’d like to see a new universe that’s far, far away. I want to explore different concepts, themes and characters that are borne from the foundations of prior events and decisions. I’d like to see the struggles of people trying to find their lives in the hollow wrecks of the titanic edifices of days gone by. Why can’t we see the difficulties of a galaxy trying to re-establish order after the head of a tyrannical regime is killed leaving perhaps dozens of warlords in the power vacuum vying to carve out their own slice of territory or even attempting to forge their own throne in the chaos? Why can’t we see the Force taken in a new direction now that it’s been made whole–a Force that’s no longer beholden to these arbitrary, contradictory elements that riddled the originals but perhaps turned into simply a matter of life for some or an ideal by others?

There’s so much potential for what could come next that it’s more than just disheartening to see the old clothes pulled out to be draped over new faces and run through the paces.

It’s boring.

Matsushima Ah! Part Two

In comparison to Entsu-in, Zuigan-ji was rather disappointing. But we were expecting this with all the construction signs around. We purchased our ticket at the vending machine–a first for temples that I’ve ever seen–but still had to present them at the gate thus rendering our own fumbling with the foreign machine rather pointless. We took what peeks we could at the main hall behind its fence and passed through the gate to the only attraction we were allowed entrance. A security officer stood guard which made me worried as he kept a keen eye that all guests removed their shoes. I’m travelling with my hardy boots and… well, let’s just say that the odour trapped in them after a full day’s walking could knock out an ox. Apparently, we hadn’t explored enough as the guard was still left conscious, but I did slip my boots off and shove them as far from any other shoes on the off chance someone called biohazard disposal and I had to return home barefoot.

My photo. Copyright me. Belongs to me. No steal plz.The building we could explore served as the old kitchen and service building for the monks. Apparently the relics from the main hall had been moved for displaying here but all the signs were in kanji so we couldn’t read them. We took plenty of photos, snapping a few of the hall under construction out the window as we passed. There was a hooded passage that connected to a secondary hall in the back of the ground and here we came across a wide room with intricately painted doors. These, as it turns out, were replicas but were also a major feature of Zuigan-ji. At one time they had been gold leafed and brilliantly coloured with expensive dyes possibly as a sign of the prosperity of the sect. However, after centuries of exposure to the public and the elements, they were severely damaged. Thus, the temple decided that, after restoring them, they would store the original doors in a museum and put up the industrial printed ones instead.

The hall itself held statues of the founding fathers of Zuigan-ji, a statue of Kannon (the buddha of mercy) and some funerary repository for… someone important in history. We only learned this because a tour group came in behind us and we eavesdropped on their explanation. I also took the time to read the brochure that was handed to us at the gate.

After the tour, we wandered across a hidden street behind a low stone overhang. We skirted another temple complex (which I took a photo of before noticing the dreaded “No Photo” signs) and climbed a small hill up to a very ornate squat mausoleum. I recognized the momoyama style from my time in Nikko with its near excessive use of ornamentation and gold leaf. It’s quite the contrast to the often austere design of Zen Buddhism and the bright reds, oranges and greens (kept in top condition by the dutiful monks) really contrasts the unblemished black of its walls and supports.

Naturally, we documented every inch of it. Special detail was given to the “elephant” heads that looked more like some madman’s fevered dream than any animal which walked on earth.

We then doubled back to Zuigan-ji proper, wandered into the museum to learn the actual history and relevance of all the stuff we saw before retracing our steps back to the food trucks of Matsushima. Outside of two brief stops, we were nearly done and we still had an hour or two of touring to go. We crossed two bridges to a nearby island with a famous viewing spot. I was especially carefully crossing the second bridge which was reduced to two blanks left carelessly over the exposed cross beams beneath our feet. I wondered how many people slipped and dropped cameras and phones down the rather large cracks then tried to not wonder about that at all as I held my camera in a death grip.

This island was especially busy with tourists, all eager to get their photos at the famous spot. Kait and I took pictures of the small wooden and very weathered shrine that had a carving for each year of the Chinese Zodiac along its walls. I took ample time to sit and rest my sore feet as we debated our next move. After a good ten minutes, enough space opened for us to squeeze in and snap a few hasty headshots of the bay. We then wandered back the way we came heading for Kait’s much anticipated tea house.

My photo. Copyright me. Belongs to me. No steal plz.It was remarkable only in how much it disappointed. Our guide paper said it was one of the few remaining original buildings from Date Masamune’s period but you wouldn’t have been able to tell if they hadn’t put a large sign at its entrance. We had to spend three dollars each to enter and there was basically nothing inside. There were to tearooms selling overpriced cups of steaming disillusionment brought to you by dolled up ladies in kimonos hoping that either they or the wide view of a bunch of private jet boats would distract you from your expensive hot water. A long table on the far side of the building sold the typical kitsch you’d expect from festival tents or seedy knock-off vendors. There was a “museum” of sorts that had a grand total of five displays. The only one of interest was a map of the bay with the standard lights and control panel to highlight the areas of interest. Of course, only half the buttons worked and everything was illegible. But what made the map most interesting was that it was painted and assembled at the bottom of a fourteen foot hole right in the middle of the room. Neither Kait nor I could guess why it existed and least of all in the dingy backroom of a tiny tourist trap. The icing on the cake was a security camera place prominently over the displays that gave you the sensation you had stepped into a deathtrap horror movie rather than viewing a collection worthy of even a locked door.

We left quickly.

By now we were ravenous and Kait was her usual indecisive self. So, I suggested that we keep an eye out for sushi places on the way back and, if we didn’t find any, we could go to the kaitenzushi restaurant that she knew of in the shopping arcade. Naturally, we didn’t find anything so we were back on the ear popping train ride through the tunnels to Sendai. We were nearly running to the restaurant, stopping only to confirm from the menu outside that this sushi would, indeed, be delivered by conveyor belt.

We were seated quickly and waiting with great anticipation as the first of the coloured plates rolled by. I had already instructed Kait on how these establishments work–the cost of your plate is determined by the coloured design printed on it. At the end, the server would come by and tally your bill by your dishes. Naturally, being the frugal creatures that we were, we opted to stick to the one dollar plates alone.

Except, everything that rolled by was upwards of five to eight dollars. I wracked my brain for how you would order a specific item on the menu from the chefs stationed right in front of us, but thankfully a few tuna salad rolls started to make their rounds. It quickly became apparent the reason for our drought of affordable options was due to a pair of high school students sitting further down the line. They had mountains piled by their elbows as they spoke and I tried not to glare with resentment as they snatched salmon sushi before it had a chance to even experience the world.

We probably ended up sitting there for close to an hour as options that we could actually stomach were eventually rolled out (and carried our way once the schoolkids packed it and left). Kait bemoaned how unfilling the sushi was as she glanced anxiously at her accumulating pile. I tried to calmly remind her that we usually go to sushi buffets back in Canada, so obviously it would take us a great deal to fill up on it. In Kait’s growing starvation and desperation, she grabbed one of the gray plates instead of the yellow. I commented on her expensive tastes as she realized with dawning horror that she had picked up a six dollar option.

She then tried to sneak it back before I yelled at her.

To assuage her guilt, she shared half of it with me. It was a fatty tuna sushi (easy to mix up with the cheap cut of tuna we were normally eating) but the one bite we had explained the difference in price. It was fresh, tasty and incredibly easy to digest. Oh to eat that by the plate would be kingly! Or it would, at the very least, take a king’s ransom.

My photo. Copyright me. Belongs to me. No steal plz.However, because we were in the restaurant for so long, I was able to answer a mystery that had been plaguing me. While watching the same plate of squid roll around and around, I wondered what the store did with food no one clearly wanted. Eventually, the chef took the plate from the belt but instead of throwing it out, he swapped the offering to a cheaper plate. It was picked up within two passes afterwards.

It struck me that, if you truly wanted a fine meal, you would probably want to come when the place was near to closing. Perhaps the desperation to offload all their food (since sushi doesn’t really keep overnight) would see a lot of options at a significantly reduced price.

Either that, or all they’re making at that hour is egg sushi.

By the end, the damage was pretty light and about one thousand and five hundred yen apiece (about fifteen dollars). Course, Kait was still grumbling about how hungry she was so we packed things up and returned home so she could snack on goodies we had stored in the fridge all the while feeling guilty about eating so much.

Upon reflection, we should really do a better job of not skipping lunch on our trips.

Pauline Pearl – Shichi Go San was a festival created due to high rates of infant mortality so parents brought their children to shrines at ages 3, 5 and 7 to thank the gods their kid lived that long and appeal to them to make it to the next age.

Matsushima Ah! Part 1

Sure, you all are probably thinking, “Man, three months in Japan. That must be really nice.” Well, I’ll have you know this isn’t some spring time in Waikiki. Not only do I have a novel I must write within the month but I also have to make Kait’s bed in the evening. Sometimes I even help with the dishes or carry groceries! It’s a real challenge, I tell you. I’m not certain how I make it through the day.

My photo. Copyright me. Belongs to me. No steal plz.

Kait loves her drainage systems!

That said, with our weekend jaunts, I have extra work to do during the week so I don’t fall behind on those days we’re out of town. Mostly, this is an explanation for why the journal entries are late. I’m doing them, they’re just second place to getting my main work finished. That, and actually seeing Japan.

Of all the places near Sendai, there was really only one that I had to see. I even warned Kait that she had to take me here. It didn’t matter how many period houses I had to see to make it happen. For, you see, Japan is pretty bottom heavy in regards to its major attractions. The bright lights of Tokyo, the ancient cultural hotbed of Kyoto and even the modern travesty and revival of Hiroshima happens almost along the exact same latitudinal line. If you’ve heard of it, chances are it is down in the Kansai-Kanto region. Kait, however, had the gall to get placed up in Tohoku. This would be the equivalent of taking a trip to the United States and deciding that Minnesota would make a good base camp.

There is that exception, however. That one spot that I had longed to visit when I was first here in 2010. But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t arrange a visit to the eponymous Matsushima Bay. But why did I want to travel here? Let me leave it to Japan’s resident poet laureate to explain:

Matsushima ah!

A-ah, Matsushima, ah!

Matsushima, ah!

~ Matsuo Basho, 1644-1694

And you thought our haiku was bad.

Matsushima was held as one of the Three Great Views of Japan. If you didn’t know already, Japan loves making lists. But the Three Great Views stands in stark contrast to the others for being the original that made popular the short rankings. It has the equivalent cachet of visiting the Seven Wonders (and I mean the listing that doesn’t put the Pyramids of Giza as an honourable mention). The other two views are the floating torii gate of Itsukushima (of which you can see my head plastered over if you are so interested) and the sandbar of Amanohashidate (scheduled for our December travel bonanza). While the floating torii was of prime importance to me, Matsushima was always a close second and only because of its supposed grandeur.

Course, as I espoused my eagerness, Kait was quick to temper my expectations.

“It’s mostly like Georgian Bay.”

Well, it was a cloudy Saturday that we decided to make the trip. The nice thing about Matsushima was that it’s just outside of Sendai. Give it a few more decades and I won’t be surprised if the northern capital eventually subsumes the coastal locale in  the inexhaustible expansion of modernity. But fortunately for me, given its geographical location and shape, Matsushima had emerged relatively unscathed from the 2011 earthquake. While I didn’t expect it to still be rubble, I had concerns whether sites would be open or not.

“Don’t worry,” Kait assured, “the only places that are closed are ones that were falling apart before the earthquake happened.”

Of course. Never change, Japan. It wouldn’t be the same touring within your borders if you didn’t have some famous place fenced off and hidden behind steel scaffolding.

As it was Kait scheduling this trip, we had yet another tight schedule ahead of us. She was a little disappointed in her first trip to the word-snatching bay. She saw only a couple of expensive bridges and had to spend the entire time with Pauline. So, with full control of the itinerary, Kait was determined to get to the places she didn’t see and this meant a seven o’clock rise so we could hurry down and catch the train to arrive in Shiogama by nine.

Shiogama isn’t technically part of Matsushima, though given that it’s a bay it does have some of the scattered weather beaten islands filling its harbour. We weren’t there to see any of that, however. Kait force marched us behind the only other Japanese person with a backpack and bucket hat in search of Shiogama Shrine. This is a shrine complex over 1200 years old and dedicated to protecting fishermen and safe childbirth. It’s a bit of a tall order for a country that loves roe on their sushi. Fifteen of its buildings are labeled Important Cultural Treasures by the Japanese government and are also stinking old. It’s a place of startling beauty and tranquillity, uplifted from the busy city streets by a flight of worn, two hundred year old steps that have shifted and grown into a steep, uneven climb beneath the ubiquitous Japanese pines.

Kait couldn’t care, however, because she was too entranced by the city’s covered ditches.

My photo. Copyright me. Belongs to me. No steal plz.

Not pictured: the intense staircase.

We passed a father and son running up and down the steps, the poor father probably going to be left immobile by noon from all the climbing. The shrine itself was quite clean and orderly. It was in fantastic condition and much larger than Kait and I expected. This naturally led to us spending nearly an hour poking around its grounds, taking pictures of stone cows and clam shells the size of a rambunctious child. We saw some couples parading their dressed up children for the 7-5-3 Festival that seems to run for most the month of October. It was only as we were exiting the south gate and heading towards the gentle decline for the old ladies to reach the shrine that Kait informed me our boat was leaving in ten minutes.

Apparently, the original plan had been to poke around the shrine for twenty or so minutes before taking a ferry up through the islands of Matsushima (Ah!). However, the ferry only left every hour and if we missed the one she scheduled, Kait was uncertain we’d be able to see everything that she wanted.

We hurried through the streets, stopping for the sparse route markers and heading down random streets. After a few missteps and waiting for a light before a kindly local pressed the walk button for us, we arrived at the dock just in time to see the ferry casting off.

Well, damn.

We debated waiting for the next ferry but a look around the tiny “market” at the dock convinced us that it wasn’t worth delaying our day by two hours. Taking the train to Matsushima proper would still take about forty minutes, however, so we dejectedly retraced our steps to the station.

At least this gave us the opportunity to dig into our meagre trail mix supply. Since, you know, if we were being honest with ourselves we knew we wouldn’t be eating lunch today.

The train was as busy as one would expect for a prominent tourist spot on the first day of a weekend. We shuffled out of the crowded train and down the narrow steps into the tiny train station. We weren’t quite sure which direction we were headed and Kait was far too shy to ask anyone, so we mostly found a couple of determined tourists and followed them until coming across a guide map of the area. There was only one island Kait was going to take me to and it was solely because it was free.

We walked past what remained of the Matsushima Aquarium (everything was apparently moved to Sendai after the place was damaged during the earthquake). The route wasn’t particularly well marked and we ended up wandering through some random parking lots until we spotted the bright red bridge to a small pine covered island. We snapped our shots (as we always do) and poked around the small paths crisscrossing the island. Apparently these places were used as burial locations for the nearby temples and shrines over the years. Many alcoves had been cut into the rock with wedged epitaphs or stone statues filling their interiors. And, outside of the shrines and buddha statues, the place was as Kait described: very reminiscent of Georgian bay with its wind cleaved rock and scraggly trees wrapping their thin roots about the sharp stones. Leaves scattered across the ground while catboats cut the mirror top of the bay in their lazy circles. We found a park bench and enjoyed the pack snacks while reminiscing of sunset watching, roasting marshmallows and sleeping in tents. It’s beautiful but it’s not unique.

We poked around the island some more, snapping pictures of bleached white trees before finally giving up on the location. Kait was eager to get to the temples that she passed up the first time. We discussed meal options as we walked, likely prompted by the number of food cars parked in the centre of the waterfront park. We were hopeful to eat some sushi since Kait hadn’t truly had any since arriving in Japan. We figured that a port town like Matsushima must have some easy to find conveyor belt sushi.

My photo. Copyright me. Belongs to me. No steal plz.

Welcome to Georgian Bay!

We were wrong. It seems the place is more obsessed with its oysters than its fish. And neither Kait or I had any interest to indulge in that local delicacy.

But this was only of passing concern as we passed the restaurants outside the park to Zuigan-ji.

Kait warned me that Zuigan-ji–a prominent Rinzai Zen Buddhist temple–had been damaged in the 2011 earthquake and was under repair. I hadn’t expected this to include the walk to the temple, as a great fence separated the large tree lined path that beeped from bulldozers plowing its ground. The park was ringed not by buildings but a small cleaved hill with more rock carvings and burial markers for the temple’s graveyard. We snapped pictures as we went along, trying our best not to obstruct the other tourists eager to see the old National Treasures.

We puttered around the entrance of Zuigan-ji while Kait decided how we were going to explore this area. There are several temple complexes in the area but she was interested primarily in two: Entsu-in and Zuigan-ji. Reading some of the signs we learned that workers were currently addressing Zuigan-ji’s main hall and square. To make up for this closure (and to justify their ticket prices not being discounted) the temple had opened up one of the adjoining halls typically restricted to temple staff. There was also a showing of the mausoleum for Date Masamune’s wife, though apparently its opening was unrelated to the work going on.

Kait opted to explore Entsu-in first. It was a much smaller complex renown for its garden grounds. I should correct that: it was very renown. We had hardly paid our tickets and taken several steps inside before we were crushed in a mass of gawking bodies. A long, ponderous and shuddering line wove its way through the stone paths with hidden hands lifting cameras and tripods at every turn.

We joined in, taking what pictures we could of the rock garden. I’m assuming this was Kait’s first and it’s a shame that she had to experience it in a rushed and crowded manner. I actually quite enjoyed viewing the meditation gardens in Kyoto when there were less people and I had the luxury to sit beneath the eaves and take in the meticulously manicured piece beneath pregnant clouds. The experience is significantly less when you have people bumping into you and you’re pushed to the tightest corners of the walkway.

Things improved as we ventured deeper into the grove and the trees rose up around us as a carpet of tended moss stretched between their roots. We found ourselves before the primary attraction: Date Masamune’s grandson’s mausoleum. It was small and relatively understated, at least from the outside. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a good look at the interior with the amount of people gathering before it so I missed the little decorative details that slyly hinted at the young man’s Christianity during a time when the religion faced persecution.

We wandered the rest of the grounds which were dedicated to gravesites than enlightening tranquility. Kait looked for a yew tree or something to little success and we descended a staircase sheltered with tall bamboo stalks into the rose garden. And, in Kait’s own words, “I don’t like rose gardens.”

My photo. Copyright me. Belongs to me. No steal plz.There was a heart shaped fountain which, if you prayed before it, you got good luck or a healthy sex life or something. Really, the reason we were stopping at every spot was because Kait was looking for the fabled location where we could make our own rosaries. We finally found a hall with several shoes in boxes outside and what looked suspiciously like groups of tourists crouched on the floor and poking in boxes. Of course, there wasn’t any English, so Kait fretted and dithered, unsure whether she should ask or whether we should just leave altogether.

She eventually decided to enquire over the thirty dollar bracelet option. She poked her head inside, prompting a worker to shuffle nervously over. When it was clear Kait was only going to be speaking English, the younger worker was waved over and we were brought to a corner of the room. There, we were to measure our wrists against a pile of sample bracelets. I didn’t know this at the time but Buddhist rosaries come in specific bead sets. Typically they’re a denomination of 108 unless you have weird wrists like mine then there’s an option to settle for twenty-two beads and consider it close enough. Once sized, we were instructed to pick out a central bead that would be unique from the others. Then we had to pick two small beads that had to match but, once again, had to be unique to everything else. After that, we were given free reign to design our rosaries however we want.

Kait elected for a subtle orange and black design. I initially was tempted towards the darker colours–which surely comes as a surprise to everyone. However, I decided that I should try something different. I picked up the white stones veined with grey striations and attempted to make something pleasing to the eye that would also not be all gloomy. Kait wrapped hers up while I was still poking and prodding over half my design. Invariably, I roped her into assisting since she has loads of experience doing crafty stuff. Surely, I reasoned, that would mean she had a good head for colour balance.

The consequence of my nagging, however, meant that Kait forgot to take photos of the activity. Eventually, I settled on a combination I could live with. It wasn’t brilliant but at this time my legs were killing me as we were sitting in seiza since neither of us wanted to stand out amongst the others dutifully making their own buddhist bracelet. So, knees cracking as we stood, we shuffled to the small table where one of the workers sat. She tied and glued them together and rang our purchase. Then she waved over the older woman who, surprisingly, worked through the meaning of the bracelets as best she could in English. It wasn’t… the most coherent but Kait at least understood that she was naming which stones and giving a general idea of what they convened. I discovered that the more different types of stones you slapped on your string, the more positive benefits you apparently would receive. So, while Kait and I both shared good business fortune, I was also blessed with better health and two kinds of stress and anxiety free living!

Woohoo, Kevin wins again!

So if you ever end up in Entsu-in (which I would recommend since, as I commented to the old lady in a kimono who stopped us on the way out, the garden is very lovely) and you elect to make your own bracelet, try to slip as many coloured beads as you can around your wrist. It may look gaudy but at least the universe will smile on you!

And despite our Scottish nature, Kait was all grins leaving the temple with the rosaries in hand. They certainly made a unique souvenir!