Friday, May 22, 2015

Happy Memorial Day

Monsters are real. Vampires feed off of others. Werewolves tear people apart. Zombies overwhelm and devour as a mindless mob.

Villains are real. Masterminds plot and scheme. Henchmen and henchwomen follow orders to do evil. Hooligans bully and vandalize.

Heroes are real. A hero will drive a stake through a vampire's heart, shoot a werewolf with a silver bullet and fight off zombies so his friends can escape. A hero is the archenemy of the mastermind. He slaughters henchmen and henchwomen in droves. He pummels hooligans.

There are always more monsters and villains than there are heroes. The wicked vastly outnumber the good. Alas, the hero prevails.

Whosoever does not have a leg to stand on shall fall for anything. Whosoever does not have eyes to see shall see only darkness. Whosoever is deaf shall not hear. Whosoever is dead shall not feel or do anything. The wicked are missing parts or the parts are broken. Their light is dim or out. Their temperature is lukewarm or deathly cold. Heroes bury the dead so that the living shall not be sickened by the rot.

A hero does not always win. He may be slain by even the least of villainy for all flesh is weak and doomed. Alas, unlike monsters and villains a hero is a man of spirit. His life shines by a fire not fed by worldly kindling. He shall die as he has lived: doing good. The wicked are doomed to perish in every way for their way is death. The hero shall live forever in the light from whence he came.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

My Three Favorite Themes

We all have our tastes. My own are my favorites, of course. As a reader, viewer, writer, artist, game designer and game player my favorite themes are silencing the sentry, hero versus throngs and useless henchwomen. I especially like them together as parts of a whole.

I have always found silencing the sentry grimly amusing and contextually erotic. Its ironies are its distinct appeal: vigilant yet oblivious, armed yet helpless, easy yet violent and impersonal yet intimate. The significance is the insignificance of the victim. The kill must be quick, easy and inglorious or the moment is without its thematic luster.

My favorite combat is always the hero versus throngs. It is the individual battling relentless waves of mediocrity. The common withers in droves as personal prowess is finally unleashed. Hot burns through lukewarm in a thrilling clash of one or few against many.

I have always loved fiction's foot soldiers of villainy. They live to die unceremoniously for our guiltless pleasure. The useless henchwoman is the sexy version of this expendable character. She is the comely victim of my beloved silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs. She is as much a girl as any heroine or villainous dominatrix but as one of the little people. She is as much a baddie as her twin brother and just as delightfully useless.

We like what we like. Our fancies are what they are regardless of what we suppose we should fancy. Shame is never inspiring. Inhibition is always stifling. To do what is best requires unabashed honesty and artful gumption.

I like what I like. I appreciate it when I find it. I do it my way when I create it. I never let enthusiasm go to waste. I have yet to exhaust mine. As I delve into my fancies I find them deeper than I anticipated. I keep digging, finding treasure all the while.

Monday, May 4, 2015

My Favorite Fictional Moments

The silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs are my favorite action-adventure scenarios. Both are individual excellence outmatching collective mediocrity.

My favorite silencing the sentry moment of all time was when I was browsing the pages of a Star Wars comic book. I happened upon a scene in which the large hands of Chewbacca were reaching for an unsuspecting Stormtrooper. The hands grabbed the sentry by his shoulder and helmet and snapped his masked face past the shoulder. The victim was left sprawled and forgotten as Chewbacca and friends made their escape.

The sentry was armed, armored and vigilant yet utterly useless. His violent death was inflicted with unceremonious ease. He was nothing to the hero who killed him and an expendable resource to the villains he served. Interestingly, he was only a baddie because he was following orders.

I shall never forget my grim amusement while watching the movie Where Eagles Dare. A crowd of German soldiers were hurrying up steps when suddenly finding themselves face-to-face with the intruder they sought. The startled throng hesitated only to be gunned down en masse. Interestingly, these men would later be harmless civilians had they survived the war.

I do not cheer for the little guy being little. The better man is always the bigger man and I want the best to win. I favor the silencing the sentry and hero versus throngs because they demonstrate the extraordinary putting the ordinary to shame. They are personal prowess besting the impersonal many.

I love heroes for being individuals who use their excellence to do good. I admire masterminds for having the gumption to do something big. As for helpless bystanders and useless thugs: I do not value their insignificant lives nor do I mourn their inconsequential deaths. Alas, even the useless can be put to good use: The helpless bystander is the screaming victim whose plight gives the hero selfless purpose. The useless thug is the cannon-fodder for acts of heroic violence.

The anonymous are smug in their anonymity. The worst evils are always committed by normal people following the rules to the letter. It is so much fun to see them spent as the disposable resource they really are.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

You Are Legend

Most people are aimless and unappreciative. They feel entitled because life is unfair and righteous because they were wronged. Such people are useless or worse and worthless if not costly. They are the impersonal many who live and die in vain.

There are the few who gain insight and develop a sense of purpose. Whether such are good or evil they are righteous in their endeavors. They strive boldly and cannot be disheartened. They prove tireless even when weary. Such are the individuals who make a difference, for better or for worse.

Fiction is our waking dreams. Our legends are the world from our spiritual perspective. Everything we imagine is our fancy of something real.

Adventure and horror are, were and shall always be humanity's favorite legends. The two are often one and the same. They are only different in that horror is the grim fate of protagonists and adventure that of antagonists.

The anonymous many of the real world are the helpless bystanders and useless thugs of fiction. The individuals who make names for themselves are the heroes, sidekicks, masterminds and killers. As for the monsters of adventure and horror, they are either characters already mentioned or impersonal forces of nature.

What would you be as a fictional character? Your pride may claim "hero" or "mastermind" or "killer" or even "monster" but who are you really?

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Grimly Amusing

Dead sexy. Whether anonymous bystanders or useless thugs we are grimly amused by the slaying of unimportant characters.

The Red Shirts of Star Trek are loved for falling easy prey to strange horrors. The Stormtroopers of Star Wars are revered for being the objects of heroic violence. The scream queens of horror are the sexiness thereof. We admire our heroes and respect our villains but we relish our victims.

Sexuality and violence are intrinsically linked. Easy violence is casual sex. An anonymous victim is a one-night-stand.

Killing is thrilling and fiction is rarely intense without it. The silencing the sentry is an unusual theme in that it is meant to thrill but calmly. It is a predator-prey scenario in which one character easily and impersonally subdues another. The distinct appeal is the contrast that what is unceremonious for the assailant is tragic for the victim. The ease of the kill is an inglorious fate indeed.

Monsters are masculine even if female. Victims are feminine even if male. The hapless Red Shirt, for example, is the "vagina" and what kills him is the "penis" in what is thematically the heterosexual dynamic. Such would not be the case if the Red Shirt enjoyed a fighting chance. He is "helpless" because the feminine is anatomically passive. The "penis" does not require consent to penetrate. The prey must be vulnerable by its nature. The victims must be lambs before gathered for the slaughter.

A foot soldier of villainy is an expendable agent of someone else's evil. A bystander is a faceless face in a crowd. We are amused by the deaths of the nameless because their lives are inconsequential. They cringe and scream fearing a doom that shall make no difference. Their bodies are heaped into piles to be lost in the crowds from whence they came. In a strange way they deserve their fate... because they are nonentities.

Friday, April 10, 2015

Who and What We Are

Reality is a lackluster drudgery locked in a cycle of vainglorious futility. History is embellished as legend or propaganda. Science and religion are whatever we want them to be. Stronger, smarter, faster and tougher are the worldly standard by which some are better than others.

I am not a man of the world. I am not a minion nor a mastermind. I do not live in the past, real or imagined. My life and what I make of it are my reality.

Most lives are worthless. Never bother with those who do not bother. Never give to those who only take. To be wronged does not make one righteous nor to be needy make one worthy. Bless or curse only that one may reap what one has sown.

A good does not beget evil. What seems friendly only to prove unfriendly is like poison in an otherwise good drink.

Whosoever cares shall always care and shall act accordingly. Whosoever does not care may do good but only when it suits them. People cannot change: they are only better or worse of who they truly are.

What we are is the nature we are made of. Our experiences can only shape what is already there. Who we are is the smallest part of us... but it is the part that makes all the difference. We are good or evil by who we are. We decide who we are by the actions of our own volition.

Friday, March 27, 2015

The Love Clones

The Red Shirts of Star Trek fall easy prey to strange horrors. The Imperial Stormtroopers of Star Wars are so delightfully useless against heroes. The proud Amazons of Classical Mythology are readily slaughtered or sexually enslaved. These are the inspirations for the Concubines of the Great Seen Unseen, the hapless clone women of Strange Galaxy.

It has often been suggested that my Red Shirt-Stormtrooper-Amazons would somehow be more interesting if I gave them a fighting chance. Alas, my fancies do not lend themselves to conventional wisdom. My "Red Shirts" must fall easy prey to strange horrors. My "Stormtroopers" must prove useless against heroes. My "Amazons" must be readily slaughtered or sexually enslaved.

Armed yet helpless. Dutiful yet useless. Bold but hapless. These dramatic ironies are what I love about my inspirations. They are what distinguish them from other characters.

My Concubines of the Great Seen Unseen are an order of nuns cloned from one woman and endowed with her formative memories. They are selfless, loyal and obedient. Exploited as slaves they have since supplanted their masters in the very name of the dark deity used to control them. Cheap and easy to mass-produce the women are vast in number. Equipped with the resources and technology of an empire they have become a Galactic Power in their own right.

The Concubines of the Great Seen Unseen scour the galaxy for knowledge and resources. Their expeditions to uncharted worlds typically go missing. Their armies are readily defeated and seldom victorious. Their many soldiers captured are kept pregnant with monstrous hybrids.

As a writer if I want a hero I make a character heroic. If I want a villain I make a character villainous. If I want easy victims of heroic violence I mass-produce characters and use them as cannon-fodder. If I want underlings of villainy I make characters insignificant and servile. I do not create one thing to have another. I do not appreciate by considering something else.

I like what I like. I am not the only one inspired by my inspirations. I cannot do wrong doing what is already proven. I made something out of pure love. Enjoy.