A Definitive Absolutely Accurate Ranking of James Bond Theme Songs
The title says it all. Mostly. It doesn’t tell you why I have decided to put together a ranking of every James Bond theme song. I could tell you that there are great reasons for this, but I would be lying. The real reason: I’ve been watching and re-watching James Bond movies on and off for years, both as a kind of weird comfort watching and because the culture critic in me wants to understand them. The other real reason: cause I want to. In preparing for this, I had to consider two factors: first, what criteria to use to judge these songs, because no ranked list would be valid if we didn’t pretend to some kind of objective measure; and second, how to use such a list to incorporate my brother’s feedback, as he was coaxed into participating in this fiasco for our mutual amusement. The second of these, I simply decided that we’d use the ranking average of our two scores for the final score in one of the criteria categories. The more difficult task was coming up with the criteria in the first place. And so with much deliberation with myself, a little with my brother, and a little more with other folks who also have opinions about things, I came up with this list of five:
Fan Fiction vs. Tie-In Fiction: A Framework
Every once in a while, fandom is beset upon by a series of somewhat aggressive arguments about the function of accuracy in film/tv adaptations. The best of these follow my own path, which involves assessing the work on its own terms before going back to look at how it functions as an adaptation. The worst of these, however, fall into a familiar trap of damnation by comparison — typically by comparing an adaptation to fan fiction. Essentially, the argument goes, substantial deviations from the source material make a work more fan fiction than adaptation; by doing so, these works become worse off. Fan fiction, in other words, is, by implication, a lesser form of art. None of this, of course, is particularly surprising. While many fan fiction writers and the community which surrounds them find great value in fan fiction and its various related works (fan art, etc.), there has always been a side of the broader fan community which views such works as a lesser fan pursuit, artistically weak, or, in the most brutal rejection, contemptable garbage (sometimes verging on a kind of moral decay).
An Adventure in Style Over Substance: Snyder’s Army of the Dead (2021)
There are times when I turn on a thing and realize it was a mistake. Sometimes it’s a terrible 80s horror film like Edge of the Axe (1988) or a TV series you don’t realize will leave you disappointed until it’s too late (ahem, Jupiter’s Legacy). This time, it’s Zack Snyder’s Army of the Dead. If I’m honest, I came into this with high hopes. Unlike most people over the age of 25, I actually quite enjoy Snyder’s Dawn of the Dead (2004) – even though I agree that the original is a better film. I thought the film handled its zombie universe well, built up meaningful personal stakes for its characters, and had sufficient tension to make for an occasionally terrifying adventure. It is upon that experience that I came into Army of the Dead with certain expectations for the kind of film we’d get. Alas, a heist-y Dawn of the Dead we did not get.
Towards an SF Canon: Curiosities
Due to circumstances beyond my control which involve several people raising interesting ideas in reply to my tweets about my essay “Why the SF Canon Doesn’t Exist,” I’m now neck deep in a massive research project on the formation of literary canons and their placement in SF scholarship (and wider discourse). In reality, I’ve been curious about this for a while, but I’ve never taken the time to do the deep dive because my research has demanded my attention elsewhere (ugh, tenure needs) and there hasn’t been an urgent need to do the work. After all, most people are either pretty satisfied about there being no official SF canon OR perfectly fine with the de facto canon, which we can piece together through a combination of “important anthologies” and aggregating the works people decide are Important™.1 One might, for example, start with NPR’s reader-selected list of the Top 100 SF/F books and its related list of the 50 best SF/F books of the 2010s.2 I, however, want to look more deeply at why these types of lists and the “de facto” argument are so prevalent in SF discourse AND what efforts have occurred to put together a legitimate canon of SF works. With that in mind, I’d like to turn to two curiosities on the path towards canonization in SF: Robert Silverberg’s The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One, 1929-1964 (1970) and Mark R. Hillegas’ “A Draft of the Science-Fiction Canon” (1961; in Vol. 3, Issue 1 of Extrapolation). Two other groups also exist. The first argues that there is a canon — or, at least, that there are classics — and then yells at other people about it. The second hates that the canon — or, at least, the classics — doesn’t much care for that version of the canon and hates being told they have to read that stuff (though some of them may read those things anyway). ↩ For the record, I don’t think general popularity is a good way to form a literary canon. It should be considered, of course, but we must also consider factors such as influence, presentation, representation, etc. More on that another day. ↩
Why the SF Canon Doesn’t Exist
As is periodically the case in the SFF community, we’re once more in the midst of a conversation about “the classics.” If you’re reading this now, it doesn’t actually matter that I wrote this in 2022; this conversation happens so often that the context above could apply in any given year going back decades, albeit more frequently today than before social media. The conversation typically features the following claims: You DON’T need to read “the classics” for reasons (there are many) You DO need to read “the classics” for reasons (there are many) There are no “classics” for reasons (there are many) I’m not going to list the various reasons offered for all of these. Instead, I’ll note that we usually see two common claims for the first two: 1) that you don’t need to read them because they do not represent where genre is now; and 2) that you do need to read them because they’re necessary to understand how we got where we are now. These are incredibly reductive versions of those common arguments, and both are technically correct but typically uttered in the wrong context.
10 Caribbean Books You Should Read At Least Once
As a fan of Caribbean literature who has spent quite a lot of his life reading and thinking about it, it seemed appropriate to finally do one of those “hey, these are the books you should read” lists. And so, I sat down to think about the works I think everyone should read (at least once) from the Caribbean, both in fiction and non-fiction. The list below reflects a combination of my personal interests in Caribbean literature and my academic research in postcolonialism, the Caribbean, and transnational American literature (though not my other academic interests beyond science fiction). This list will, by the limitations of numbers, be incomplete. It will reflect the reading experience of one person. There are hundreds and hundreds of other works of Caribbean literature and criticism and numerous islands not represented here (a list of 10 cannot possibly get them all). Heck, that’s why I included “alternatives” here because there were people left off a list of 10 and it made me sad. Treat this list as a fun starting point of important works. If you’re not familiar with the literature of the reason, this list might help get you started. If you are, maybe it will fill some gaps! And for those who have read all of these, consider leaving a comment letting me know about other works you think folks should read at least once! Here goes: