SF/F Commentary

The Black Santa Chronicles (or, Why Size Really Matters)

This is the story of Black Santa and his wife, Black Santa’s Wife.  They also go by Black Father Christmas and Black Father Christmas’ Wife (I assume the missus has a proper name or title of her own, but I can’t find it). Don’t they look like a happy couple?  Well, perhaps not, but that may have more to do with my brother’s photography skills and subject placement than anything else.  Still, with that bushy beard and the beautiful purples and pinks and those adorable gold wings, you’d think they’d be a happy couple (unless, of course, that additional statue in the background is there to imply that Black Santa is, in fact, an unfaithful jerk; but that would be too easy a stereotype, now wouldn’t it?). Now let’s bring White Santa into the picture, shall we? Wait a tick…is White Santa really that much taller and larger than Black Santa?  Yes, he is.  And while I would love to think this is all an unfortunate misunderstanding — that, in fact, there is a small version of White Santa too, and vice versa for Black Santa.  But no such figure was available in the Michael’s we visited that day.  Rather, there were one or two giant White Santas and a whole bunch of tiny Black Santas, implying more that Black Santa is akin to a helper elf than a proper Santa for anybody who likes to think that the race of Santa really doesn’t matter.  (Of course, White Santa’s Wife was not in large form either, though I have no picture to prove that.) If I were a betting man, I’d gather most people would see a problem with the size differential. Has anyone seen anything like this before?

SF/F Commentary

Fantasy and Moral Ambiguity: Repetition Rears Its Ugly Head

Author Bryan Thomas Schmidt has taken a stab at author/editor James L. Sutter’s Suvudu post on why moral ambiguity in fantasy is a good thing.  In said stabbing, Schmidt makes some well-worn arguments about why moral ambiguous fantasy presents problems for society, but the bulk of his argument — in my mind — rests on a bed of false assumptions. For example, Schmidt argues that our world is one beset with nihilism and moral ambiguities fermented by the entertainment industry.  He suggests that We are bombarded with images of violence, sex, language, etc. which of things, people, places being torn apart. We are shown these as motivated by impurities and negative motives more often than pure motives. And we are told that’s because human beings will always go that way by nature. While I do believe in the depravity of man, I also believe man has the capacity to grow and reach beyond natural tendencies and become so much better than that. And that’s what I want from my heroes. While I don’t want unflawed, perfect heroes—who can relate to those either—at the same time, I do want to know who should win; who is on the right side.  Underlying this argument are two problems:  1) the assumption that the media overwhelming fails to provide us with morally ambiguous or questionable heroes who we can root for, and 2) the absolutist logic the continues to dominate colonial and imperial ideology to this day — namely, the idea that we can easily determine who is right in a given situation based solely on their apparently moral behavior. The first assumption is false the second you look at what gets put on our screens and on our shelves.  Most of what we view/read for pleasure contains flawed, realistic characters who are still our heroes.  Is it not possible, for example, that a semi-violent police detective can still be someone we root for even if we disagree with the occasional abuse he launches at his wife?  True, we would mostly all agree he must get help, and perhaps end up in jail, but we can also agree that his pursuit of the bad guy (who may have very difference motivations of his own) is right.  Or perhaps a better example is a police detective who drinks too much, sometimes putting himself and others at risk with his drunken behavior.  Flawed?  Yes.  Needs help?  Yes.  But can we still root for him?  Sure.  Just as we often root for the detectives on Law & Order:  Special Victims Unit, some of which have roughed up suspects and so on in the pursuit of justice which is never pure and almost always slightly disappointing.  It doesn’t matter that Stabler is kind of a douchebag; we still want him to get the criminals. Most of the right/wrong elements in the above positions are only absolute if one holds to a puritanical view of the human species, one which cannot take into account the variations of human believe, the variations of human psychology, and the variations of human biology.  Schmidt brings up genocide and rape as specific examples of pure morality.  While genocide and rape are certainly detrimental to society, their activity is shaped by ideologies that are absolutist in themselves.  Those who freely commit genocide believe fervently that they are doing a service to society.  We can only say they are wrong because we come from a different moral framework, one which has done little to stifle murder and rape within itself. But none of this means that those positions are right, nor does it mean that adding moral ambiguity to fantasy means that anti-murder and anti-rape are questionable positions.  In fact, it’s quite the opposite.  What moral ambiguity tells us is this:  things are far more complicated than it is easy to admit.  Murderers may need to be punished, but every murder is not committed for the same reason.  The same is true of genocide and rape.  We punish these people not because they break moral codes (recall, for example, that it wasn’t all that long ago that there were no legal rules to prosecute rapes as rapes), but because they do things detrimental to society or other people.  But their motivations cannot be discounted.  To do that is to shut ourselves away from the variations of selfhood that make up the human species.  We’re a complicated bunch. The second piece to the above puzzle is a slightly more problematic assumption.  What we’ve learned in the last 50 years is that #2 is always already false so long as there are at least two sides to an issue.  That doesn’t mean we have to agree with the other side, whatever that may be, but it does mean that there are always two sides to a given coin.  We might, for example, argue that Al Qaeda is purely evil based solely on what they say and what they do, but to do so would mean ignoring historical precedence, religious tutelage, and a host of other factors which paint a different picture.  In the end, most of us would agree that Al Qaeda deserves to be stopped, but we might also agree that some of the people who are a part of that organization may not be there for reasons we would consider morally questionable if the roles were reversed. It is, however, false to argue that America is purely right and Al Qaeda is purely wrong in a moral sense.  To do so would require one of two things:  1) a head-in-the-sand view of reality, or 2) an open acknowledgement that every action made by the “right” party must be questioned unless or until a pure moral position can be found.  Neither of these are particularly good options. Yet if we take Schmidt’s moral positioning seriously, it’s perhaps his first volley of questions that exposes the fundamentally flawed assumption trapped beneath his entire post: [How] can it be wrong to write stories which show a clearer sense

SF/F Commentary

Guest Post: On Science Fiction Fascinations by S. Spencer Baker

I’ve been fascinated with science fiction since I was about four years old, even though I’m fairly sure that I didn’t know it was called science fiction in those days. There were puppet shows on TV like Supercar and Fireball XL5, and I dimly remember another show that had flying saucers like wobbling spinning tops that docked with a space station, but I’ve never seen that one again so I might have dreamt it — it was all in monochrome and a long time ago. Then Doctor Who hit the tiny screen with a theme tune that could only have been made by aliens — and nasty aliens at that. UFOs and bad robots seemed to be everywhere back then.  I personally discovered a planet in 1964. I wrote an entire project about it, a huge scrapbook of cut-out pictures from magazines and hand lettered descriptions of this amazing new planet that I’d discovered in the school library called Pluto. It was a really great project, the best I’d ever done. My teacher called me a moron and sent me weeping like a baby to the back of the class. I was secretly pleased when Pluto lost its planetary status a couple of years ago. Serves it right. Bad planet. Then came Star Trek and I was enraptured. We had, on our televisions (in colour), a black and white representation of what it would look like to be on a spaceship travelling through the stars. To this day, if you want to make me happy, sit me in a cinema and project the view from the Enterprise as it slices its way through the galaxy. Watch those stars zoom past. Tiny points of light that are entire solar systems flying by and out of sight. Pure bliss. Of course when I was a kid, I wasn’t able to articulate exactly what it was about science fiction that entranced me. I did know that it wasn’t the aliens. Daleks were scary as hell and cybermen were just clumsy precursors of stormtroopers, but neither were that interesting. Whatever aliens Kirk and Spock had to battle with in their styrofoam sets were all pretty useless in the end — after all, we managed to defeat them all inside 45 minutes, right? I have to give the Borg a nod. They were really cool but they weren’t really very alien except in their social structure. They did give us Seven Of Nine though, so they will forever hold a special place in all young heterosexual male hearts. But no, it wasn’t the aliens that held my interest. It wasn’t the weapons either. Nuclear-ionised-plasma, mega-warp-reverse-polarity, pulse-phase-modulated photon-this and electro-that are simply a writer’s way of getting themselves out of a problem they deliberately created in order to put tension into the narrative and keep everyone glued to their seats. If the future is to be about technology (and I sincerely hope that it is) then the weapons side of future tech is the least constructive and most boring. No, what fascinated me then and fascinates me still today is first, the idea that the future holds the solutions to today’s problems (I admit this may be weak-minded of me) and second, that one day we will get the hell off this tiny, stinking, life-infested, doomed rock and get out to the stars. Yes. Ever since I was old enough to understand that we were on a planet, I’ve wanted to get off it. As far as I’m concerned, this is a perfectly natural response. After all, if you lived on an island all your life, and could see another land over the sea, are you telling me you’re not going to go there? You aren’t going to walk down the track every day and look over the water to a huge lump of rock and not think ‘I wonder what’s over there?’ Of course you are. You’ll invent technology that floats and you’ll go there. Then you’ll look out at the horizon and think ‘I wonder if there’s anywhere out there that’s better than this place?’ And until you’ve gone to wherever you think ‘out there’ is and found out if it’s better, you will never be able to rest. That’s just the way human beings are made. If we weren’t made that way we would never have left Africa and we would have died out like 99% of all the species on earth that ever existed. We are genetically programmed to be curious. It’s a survival characteristic. Get over it. We have to go. Not only in order to survive (because only an idiot would expect life on Earth to last forever) but because we’re made that way. —————————————————– About Slabscape:  Reset: Take the most sophisticated A.I. designed mind that has ever existed, encase it in over fifty million cubic kilometres of diamond nano-rods and send it off on a twenty-thousand-year odyssey towards the centre of the galaxy. Then screw it all up by allowing thirty-two million humans to go along for the ride… About the author: S.Spencer Baker (1956~2106) fled formal education and family at the age of seventeen and refused to ever return to either. He spent a subjectively interminable, but retrospectively finite amount of time learning how to exploit the intellectual property of others until he re-remembered that his childhood obsession was to create his own intellectual property and get other people to exploit it on his behalf. Somewhere around the beginning of that seriously weird century that began inauspiciously in 2001 he started creating the not-at-all-weird universe of Slabscape. By 2011 he had published his first science fiction novel; Slabscape:Reset – a webback (being backed up by information, back-stories, glossaries and complete irrelevancies in an online resource at http://slabscapedia.com). By 2020 he had published several more novels and short stories in the series, including Slabscape:Dammit, Slabscape:Reboot and a compendium of the first three books along with a contemporary text dump of the ever-expanding Slabscapedia entitled; Slabscape:Thank Dice That’s Over

SF/F Commentary

Guest Post: Writing Fear in Appleton by J. Stephen Howard

Dear Brave and Steadfast Reader, Writing the horror novel, Fear in Appleton, was a grueling yet enjoyable process that took me over three years to complete. During that time, the book went through several drafts, including one where Michael Garrett, Stephen King’s first editor as credited in King’s On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, provided input. The idea that sparked Fear in Appleton was: What if the reader could follow the journey a person takes from madness to death to becoming a ghost? Then, if the reader were given a front seat to the hauntings occurring thereafter, it would make for an exciting, creepy roller coaster ride.  Adding to the fun, I thought: What if someone who was afraid of everything in life, with a million phobias, could flip that around as a ghost doing all the scaring?  Thus, Professor Terrence Crawford, a self-absorbed creative writing teacher with a fragile ego, was born. Naturally, since he was a writer, he’d want to narrate his ghost stories. I realized that with a ghost narrator, I needed a warm, live body as a vehicle for typing up his exploits. It made sense to make Professor Crawford’s old boss, the English department head named Professor Starkley, that vehicle. So Crawford, after pushing people over the edge, would float back to Appleton College to induce Starkley to record his escapades. As a big fan of edgy HBO shows like “True Blood” and “The Sopranos,” I began to imagine these hauntings as separate episodes that shared some connective tissue. However, I needed a way to link them. That linking agent, Angela Lacey, who was Professor Crawford’s obsession in life, became his opponent. But first, she had to become aware of his supernatural presence. I made Crawford’s victims varied to give the sense of a ghost haunting an entire town. He could be anywhere floating around, trying to sniff out the fears of the populace. Yet, even as an incredibly powerful supernatural force, a residue of his humanity remained, and as a result, he couldn’t keep away from Angela. At this point in the novel, the stories go from the victims being varied and having nothing in common with each other to involving Angela in some way. Finally, to send the roller coaster ride to its conclusion, I needed to get the ghost out of the English department and onto the campus for one last showdown. The character of Wesley sprang organically from the novel’s writing process. It just seemed like, after hopping around inside the minds of various victims, the ghost finally found the perfect host for his devilish purposes. Then, as for the heroine Angela, she required something from the past, something clouding her present and causing her to fear life. It made sense to give her this burden so there could be a final battle between the ghost and her. I had a great time writing this novel, and it’s gratifying to see it published on Amazon/Kindle. I hope you’ll download a copy and post a review after reading it. With forums such as this one, reading and writing don’t have to be mutually exclusive or isolating. Let’s keep the communication channels open so the ghosts and other things that go bump in the night won’t keep us under the covers. Sincerely,  J. Stephen Howard You can learn more about Fear in Appleton here or on Facebook.  The book is available on Amazon.

SF/F Commentary

Quickie Review: Hanna

I got a chance to see Hanna with my brother and sister the other day and thought I would offer some short, but sweet thoughts. Plot:  Living in the middle of nowhere, Hanna is raised by her father, Erik, to be a skilled soldier in order to assassinate the woman who killed her mother.  When Hanna is ready, they activate a distress beacon and put a plan into action.  But Hanna must venture out into the real world with all its luxuries and technologies — a world she knows little about. Pros:  Hanna is an action-packed thriller which shows why Saoirse Ronan is one of the best young actresses in Hollywood.  She is simply brilliant in this film (with her German accent and perfectly stunned expressions when she’s shown something her character has never seen).  Cate Blanchett is equally amazing as the psychotic Melissa, and Tom Hollander (Beckett from Pirates of the Caribbean) puts on one of the creepiest performances I’ve ever seen. Cons:  Honestly, I thought the soundtrack (by The Chemical Brothers) was lackluster and, at times, overbearing.  Half of the background noise involved annoying groaning electronic noises with drum machine rhythms.  The film really deserved a better soundtrack. I also thought that the ending left a lot to be desired.  There’s a major twist towards the end, but it needed more development in the actual story.  Likewise, some of the action involving Bana looked forced. Overall:  The film is entertaining.  The plot moves quickly, the characters are fascinating, and the concept is slightly science fictional — all good things for readers of this blog. Directing: 3/5 Cast: 5/5 Writing: 3/5 Visuals: 4/5 Adaptation: N/A Value:  $6.50 Overall: 3.75/5

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