tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45790113768636759602024-03-14T03:56:39.217-04:00Random VerbosityRants, Reviews, Stories, and CommentaryJonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.comBlogger150125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-81663384042101827152020-04-20T14:34:00.000-04:002020-04-20T14:34:04.491-04:00To acquire a computer, to discover programming, and to eventually be eaten by a GrueGreen text placed me in an open field, West of a white house. I didn't know how I had arrived there, only that I was looking at a boarded up building with a mailbox, and surrounding this house and field were thick woods. I was in Zork.<div>
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I didn't have a computer growing up. The only one I had some access to was my maternal grandfather's IBM PS/2 system, on which I was only able to play with a golf game, interactive educational software, Minesweeper, Solitaire, and Paint. It was important that I didn't do anything else with it, and there was no attempt to teach me more about how it worked. It was basically a limited-use toy, when it wasn't being used for grandpa's business. </div>
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It wasn't until I received a grant for my first year of college that I was able to afford to go out and buy a PC of my own. The machine was supposed to be for school work only, but I knew that its primary use would be gaming. I even knew the games I was going to buy for it, and when I picked up the HP PC bundle from Walmart (which I understand now is not the way or the place to buy a decent computer), I also purchased Star Wars Jedi Knight II: Jedi Outcast and a Doom collection which included Doom, Doom II, and the extra levels. </div>
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After a couple of years of fooling around with my greatly treasured PC, exploring how it handled and played games, and using it to write papers for English and History, I eventually decided to switch my academic focus over to computers. I had always wanted to know more about them, but I had no idea where to begin. It actually wasn't until I watched a making-of documentary which came with the collector's edition of Halo 2 that I realized that programming was a thing and a major part of making these beautiful machines do everything they do. So, along with a series of technical classes which spanned telecommunications to office application usage I also took an introduction to programming course. </div>
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Every Saturday morning I would bus down to Grand Rapids Community College and spend three hours, 8am to 12pm, to take an involving and exciting Introduction to Programming class taught by the affable and inspiring Donald Hruby, a former Bell Labs employee, IBM remote project manager, and adjunct professor. While there we'd move between writing pseudo-code and drawing flowcharts to understand logic structures and mapping logic to getting into building programs with QBASIC. It was a terrific environment, a sterilely lit computer lab with a sizable group of people, all there because the prospect of programming computers was too fascinating not to pursue. We worked in teams, analyzed each other's code, and we learned how to avoid common pitfalls and the sin of producing a mess of spaghetti code. All the time Mr. Hruby would walk around encouraging us and telling us, sincerely or not, that if he could he would hire us all into IBM because we had what it took to do the work. </div>
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I took what I learned in that amazing course and brought it home. I dabbled in writing small QBASIC programs, and I read and re-read the class texts on logic design. That was the only year I didn't sell my textbooks back to the college bookstore because all of them seemed so invaluable, especially for what I wanted to do. </div>
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Unfortunately, my depression and self-doubt swooped in and began chipping away at my confidence with programming. I fell off the rocket ship that was code and watched it sail away without me into the stars. I felt lonely and insufficient here on the ground, seemingly incapable or undeserving of taking the stellar trip which programming appeared to offer. My mind told me that this was how it had to be for me. For years after I avoided the idea of taking up the keyboard with the intent to program, and sadly, this did more damage to my general prospects and confidence than that initial doubt.</div>
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I hadn't entirely abandoned everything from that class and that period in my life, though. While there, on breaks between coding segments, a peer in the classroom would talk with me about video games. He started bringing me CD-Rs full of emulators, classic console ROMs, and various other types of gaming software. On those discs I discovered several games I had missed from my childhood as an Atari and Nintendo kid, but they also introduced me to an era of computer games I hadn't known. Through those discs I discovered text adventures. </div>
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Zork was legendary, and it didn't take long to find out about it through research. I hit the college computer lab internet hard after trying out one of the random text adventures included on those discs, the title of which sadly escapes me. I learned about Infocom and their contributions to the world of games. I learned of Colossal Cave Adventure, Steve Meretzky, and a universe hidden behind text parsers and entrancing cover art for old game boxes. I didn't know how to acquire a copy of these games, though, as I didn't have home internet access. I had a computer but no internet, because the monthly fees for maintaining even dial-up service were too much for me at that time. </div>
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Years later, I moved in with my girlfriend, who would eventually become my wife, and I discovered how the internet was not only amazing, it was absolutely necessary. She had constant access to it and treated it as a utility, which to this day I strongly feel it should be. It was through that regular home access that I was able to download games and dive further into the world of computers. I started programming again, because readily available resources restored some of my confidence and eliminated some doubts. I found and experimented with games and software I had only heard of or seen glimpses of through my early research. Then I found games I had never heard of. A new world opened up to me. </div>
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Eventually, I found my way to a copy of Zork. I had to learn how to make it work on my miraculously still-running HP PC, which I kept going for about ten years after the original purchase. The game deceptively appeared to be so simple, as many text adventures do at the beginning, but as I put in time I realized how many layers it had and noticed how deep the experience was taking me. Of course, I became Grue food on several occasions, but each time I failed I started over. The value of graph paper, which I had only used for D&D up to that point, became apparent after a few attempts at running through the game. It became an experience which tapped into so many parts of my brain and my creativity. Zork, though a mere text adventure, was, for me, an awakening. </div>
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So, here we are in the present, the cursed year of 2020. Zork is still available, and it is still as entertaining and as entrancing as ever. It can be played on PCs, tablets, and phones. It's available on archive sites, ROM sites, and through <a href="http://www.gog.com/">GOG</a>. Last year internet archivist Jason Scott uploaded the entire collection of <a href="https://archive.org/details/infocomcabinet">Infocom source code</a> to the Internet Archive. There's no excuse for people not to play it at this point. </div>
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I will always return to Zork and the Infocom library. Those games are priceless, and they have inspired me in so many ways. One of the most important was that they helped me trick my stupid brain into getting back into programming. It's a tough uphill path for me to climb, and there are times when I scare myself off of it, but every time I think of Zork, Grue, the phrase and documentary "Get Lamp," and those Saturday morning programming classes which started me on the road to Zork, I find inspiration to once again go back to the keyboard and keep trying. </div>
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Maybe some day I'll be able to finally begin a career programming. Maybe I'll eventually be able to make my own Zork. Maybe all of it. Maybe some day. </div>
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Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-68703744410564621642020-04-20T13:10:00.003-04:002020-04-20T13:10:58.082-04:00Thoughts from a Sick World - Entry 3The period of isolation continues. Anxieties are still running high, and the news which pops up across the internet is sensationalized and grim.<br />
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I can see the green glow of bobbing leaves outside the dining room window as I type this, and I am, for once, thankful for the coming of Spring. The only season I have ever really enjoyed is the Fall, but I guess the renewal which comes with Spring, this year specifically, has finally seeped in and gotten to me. At least nature seems to be doing well, or so it seems.<br />
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Humans are terrible. That doesn't really need to be stated, but I needed a transition and to just type that sentence to get it out of me, because it's been bouncing around in my mind, all chrome and shiny, like the wobble text screensaver from Windows XP. We are under assault by a dangerous virus and a tremendous number of people are only thinking about themselves and defying logic, good sense, and science to stupendously live up to and redefine the term, "Sheeple."<br />
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We should have seen this response coming, though. For years the anti-intellectual movement has been growing, bolstering itself on a sturdy diet of anecdotal evidence, fallible logic, and the strongly worded sentiments of shallow, mentally deficient talking heads who actively seek out an audience to net them sponsorship dollars so that they can live lavishly in spite of being the exact human equivalent of slimy turds. In short, these people have thoroughly exhausted their rights to expression and influence upon our society as individuals. They should be shut out, dismissed, and fought with tooth and nail and dagger and pistol at every opportunity.<br />
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This is the great conflict of this age, this battle between humanity and virus, between science and ignorance. It's not as simple as Republican or Democrat, conservative or liberal. We are in a fight for our existence against other humans who, consciously or not, are tearing at the foundations of civilization in order to advance utterly stupid and intensely greedy individuals who are as obsessed with power and the high they get from being central to everything which has nothing at all to do with them. The intelligent and logical are at war with the myopic, moronic servants of a gluttonous class of scum.<br />
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The glow of the leaves is still visible through the dining room window, and I'm getting lost in it as I try to calm myself. The northern hemisphere might be experiencing Spring right now, but the world of humanity is deteriorating. We're in a fall, and not the natural, charming Fall I enjoy. This is the era of decline, and I'm wondering how to get off of this planet before the bad people win and bring about a Winter which will set us back so far that we'll lose everything of actual value to our existence. If they succeed, most of us will fade away, choking on the noxious waste of their decadence until true humanity, the humanity good people struggle to preserve, disappears entirely from this universe.Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-57661240338409111222020-04-10T12:09:00.004-04:002020-04-10T12:09:47.938-04:00Thoughts from a Sick World - Entry 2I used to think that I could sing. The other night, though, I was told that I was tone deaf and that it's something which has been bothering others for a while.<br />
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These kinds of revelations can be shocking, sure, but when you have so few abilities in which you're confident, it's devastating to learn that you've been kidding yourself. It breaks a piece of you, in a way, and it's difficult to recover.<br />
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This might seem silly, but I only have a couple of things which I seem to be decent at doing. Those things aren't the focus of my life, and they don't define my daily existence. However, it's believing that I can do them which gives me a sort of comfort and hope in my abilities and this helps me to keep going. Now I'm unsure if I'm actually decent at any of them. Maybe I've been lying to myself this whole time, and my reality is based around lies of comfort in which I've been hiding.<br />
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It's a dark time, these days of pandemic. It's hardly the time to have one's foundations compromised, especially when existence seems so pointless already. But here I am, shaken, shattered to pieces.<br />
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I hope that there aren't too many others out there who are each, like me, being slowly consumed by some darkness produced within their own minds, but I know better. I've met others. Who knows how many of us will actually make it through this period.Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-24397904007547490452020-04-03T12:32:00.000-04:002020-04-03T12:36:25.419-04:00Thoughts from a Sick World - Entry 1Two days ago, on Wednesday, it was my birthday. It was a relaxed day at home. I turned thirty-five, my wife did her best to celebrate it, and the world outside continued in its decline in this age of viral devastation.<br />
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That's a thing now. We're in a time of existential dread brought about by a virus which has, so far, killed over 50,000 people around the world and is still spreading amongst the ignorant and irresponsible, who fail to heed warnings from scientists and experts. We have been given shelter-in-place orders to limit or stop the spread of the virus, but a great many people are actively ignoring or defying this. This is our reality, a world in which a virus is killing us and stupid people are accomplices to it because they don't feel sick, hate being told what to do, or just can't grok how viruses work. The ignorant and foolish are the hammers which will shatter the foundations of our species.<br />
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Well, it looks like we made it. After so many years spent dreaming of a dystopian or devastated world we have finally achieved it. It's like my college English professor would say, if you aspire to something, good or ill, you will achieve it. He cautioning us by referring to mediocrity related to writing, though, and not the downfall of humans and their society.<br />
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It's a great time for people to see lies revealed, fallacies unveiled, the confirmation of the fragility of systems we took for granted, the confirmation of the ineptitude of leaders who should never have been, and how truly horrible and selfish our neighbors can be. It's a period in which we can and should learn so many valuable lessons, but I have sincere and powerful doubts about our ability to do so. The people of today are incapable of something so simple, useful, and intelligent, it would seem.<br />
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My natural pessimism and misanthropy are bolstered every day now. It doesn't feel good. It's like getting kicked awake when you're trying to sleep after not resting for years. Every negative confirmation is like an earthquake of sadness.<br />
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I'm trying to look up, though, to be more positive. I'm trying to do things which help my mind and take me away. I've been playing a bunch of video games. Thanks to these wonderful digital experiences I have been and continue daily to successfully escape. It's doing my sanity wonders.<br />
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I haven't expressed it here before, but I've been wanting to create and live in worlds beyond the physical for most of my life. One day, if it all works out, I would love to be a part of creating an alternate existence for humanity. In the worlds to come we wouldn't have fears like this coronavirus (the type of virus currently plaguing the species), and we wouldn't have to worry about leaving important decisions regarding supply and care to imbeciles who craved power and have thus far been woefully incapable of doing the work part required of people in their roles.<br />
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One day I will create, or help to create, a world, or worlds, in which we will be able to live the lives we need to live in order to satisfy our hearts and relieve our minds of the burden of existence which was forced upon us by chance. I have to be a part of such a thing, not because my ego demands it or because I feel like I'm somehow exceptionally equipped to do so, but because I want it to be so badly that every moment I am aware of such a thing not existing I notice that it's absence feels like a hole in who and what I am. Such a thing has to exist because it would help complete me. I need to bring about and confirm a better world to finish the being that is me, to be made whole.<br />
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Well, that's enough of that. My mad ramblings will continue some other time. Now I need to go back to living at home, in isolation from others, all so that I don't contribute to the spread of the virus through my flawed human body, which has no choice in playing its part in the distribution of disease and death. Sadly, we are apparently designed to break ourselves and each other, one way or another.<br />
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Until next time, kids, stay safe, stay healthy, help others, and dream of better times and worlds.Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-83105165748515272042020-03-06T01:56:00.000-05:002020-03-06T01:56:06.031-05:00It is finished...5,000 Words LaterMy spin on an updated version of a classic ghost story is complete. I have some editing to do, for sure, but I handed it over to my wife for a read and she seemed quite affected. I had to clarify her opinions, but her reaction was ultimately positive, though she admitted to feeling disturbed.<br />
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Once this story is completely edited and print-ready, I have about six or seven more to prepare before I will be able to start down the road to publication.<br />
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When I reach the end of the line and can hold the completed collection in my hands, I intend to throw a party or something. I mean, I’m not a very social person, but why the hell not?<br />
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Now, to bed and then on to the next tale!Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-85254524658449810902020-03-05T20:55:00.001-05:002020-03-05T21:00:25.644-05:00Writing Progress and Feeling Weird About GhostsYesterday, I spent most of the day working on a weird tale which borrowed from my experiences as a boy in Florida as much as it did from my interests in odd and horrific fiction. I wrote for hours, getting out well over three thousand words, but as I surveyed my progress and the consistency of the tale I realized that I was making a mess of my original intention.<br />
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I have abandoned that story for the time being.<br />
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Today, though, I am in the midst of another series of hours of pouring out words. This time the story is different, and I'm getting a little too invested in it. I decided to write my version of an update on the model of a classic ghost story. Like the story from yesterday, this one also borrows from my past experiences, as I find myself loosely following the old, "Write what you know" directive.<br />
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I'm tapping into a cold February from years ago, in a historic town where my wife and I managed to escape for an unforgettably strange, yet charming Valentine's Day. The story doesn't involve the holiday as much as it focuses on the oddity which is the Victorian bed and breakfast, and it goes into the feel of an old town and the old establishments which comprise the town. There are also ghosts, because a ghost story would be kind of crap without them.<br />
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The trouble with trying to capture the feel of a good ghost story, I find, is that you tend to creep yourself out and cultivate a mild paranoia about the quiet corners of your home. I try to get into the moments and the atmosphere when I write, and when I do this in a ghost story it creeps me out, thoroughly.<br />
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Regardless of my personal terror at my own process, I'm hoping to try and sell this story, if at the end of its composition I am satisfied with it. However, if it doesn't sell, I will certainly be placing it in my short story collection.<br />
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Anyway, back to the writing. Progress updating and blog massaging for this day is complete!Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-54086124687381612942020-03-04T14:10:00.000-05:002020-03-04T14:10:01.075-05:00Cringing, Sighing, Shame, and What's Been Happening Here for Almost a DecadeIf you want to embarrass most writers, or at least knock them off their guard, you should seek out their old work and show it to them. You will probably witness eye rolls, looks of revulsion, sighs of shame, and maybe even a knowing chuckle.<br />
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I have been writing since I was a small child, and I have been writing here, on this blog, since May of 2010. I know for a fact, having reviewed my old posts here and the notebooks I've carried around for decades, that I have trailing behind me a legacy of shame and embarrassment. But as they say, "It is what it is."<br />
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Through writing all of this awkward, unquestionably bad, painfully embarrassing, and occasionally surprisingly decent material I have learned so much. Without the scraped knees and broken bones of failing to pull off the voice of others or moronically abusing the thesaurus, I wouldn't be capable of writing how I write today. Hell, I'm sure that in a year or ten I'll look back on what I create today and shake my head.<br />
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Regardless, I have to keep going. One letter after another, making words which will follow words, and eventually they'll communicate ideas or tales which may or may not shame me greatly in times to come. It's the process, and I embrace it, wincing all the way.<br />
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To those of you who have read my odd posts, ignorant ideas, silly reviews, and dumb-dumb opinions, thank you. I'm sorry for the pain, but I appreciate your support.<br />
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Maybe I'll look back on this blog in another ten years and write a similar post. Who knows?Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-73576667254907432912020-03-04T13:35:00.002-05:002020-03-04T13:36:03.739-05:00News of an Upcoming Self-Publishing Project, and Other Things...After years of self-doubt, uncertainty, apathy borne out of depression, and other nasty things, I have managed to drag myself free from the mire of creative paralysis and dedicate myself to publishing a collection of my short stories. I even have an artist in reserve for the cover, which I've been told is something quite rare for those who travel down the pathway of self-publishing.<br />
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These stories are mostly new, having been written within the last year and over the next few months. However, some of the ideas popped into my mind years ago and have sat in a sort of file box in a dusty corner of my brain ever since. It never hurts to horde ideas, but it would damage the integrity of the ideas less if one were to act on them while they were fresh instead of letting them sit unattended, to deteriorate with time.<br />
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If you were to attempt to categorize the stories which will be collected you could assign them to the genre of horror, though some fantasy might creep in, depending on the tale. It has felt most natural to write about the horrific and to meditate upon darkness, and in a way it always has. This isn't because of the ridiculous state of the world, as I'm sure most would shallowly assume or declare. It is due to the fact that my interests in literature have always tended to lean toward the dark and macabre.<br />
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I'm not some self-labeled goth, or aspiring edge-being, who's trying to express some contrived dark persona through excessively grim and cliched writings. I'm just a person who has always enjoyed the stories of the supernatural, mysterious, chilling, and unfathomably horrific, whether I read them myself or heard them spoken aloud by the people who influenced me most in my formative years. Considering the exposure I have had to horror throughout my childhood, it's actually not at all surprising that I would naturally end up outputting tales like these.<br />
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I will chronicle any and all developments here, on my now nearly decade-old blog. So, please look for the updates and blurbs I deposit about the experience. It is possible, depending on the publication and plans for marketing the book, that I will set up a separate site and blog for it, but until then, this is my home for writing my mind on the vast and unsettling Internet.Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-57246544234050729602019-03-30T20:17:00.001-04:002020-03-05T21:01:46.326-05:00Batman Turns 80The Caped Crusader. The Dark Knight. The Batman.<br />
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One of the greatest masked crime fighters in all of comics turns 80 this month, and his masters at DC Comics have published a ninety-six page comic to commemorate the occasion. Detective Comics #1000 is now for sale at your local comic book shop, and if you're a fan of the character and his world then you owe it to yourself to pick up a copy.<br />
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I first met Batman through Tim Burton's 1989 film adaptation, which my father purchased on VHS from a grocery store when I was a very little boy. The dark, stylistic setting and the operatic characters of the movie were astounding to me. I eagerly watched from a hunched position in front of the television, memorizing scenes and occasionally trying out my version of the, "Batman voice." Movie tie-in toys followed as holiday and birthday gifts, and I was able to create my own Batman scenarios upon the floor of my bedroom.<br />
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I next officially encountered the character, shortly after, on the shelves of the comic book shops to which my Uncle Jeff and grandmother would take me. The comics were magical and immediately felt sacred. There was a power in the images of those books and the stories they told. As far as I'm concerned, Batman began in that four colored world, and he will always be at his best there, no matter how banal and idiotic the ideas and decisions of the writers at his publisher have been or currently seem to be.<br />
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After experiencing the comics I would occasionally see the Adam West Batman rerun on cable. The wackiness of the old Bill Dozier series felt off to me from the start, but it was nice to see any version of the character I had come to admire. I couldn't get over the quality issues and the camp, though. I mean, Batman once bested King Tut's brainwashing by drinking copious amounts of buttermilk, if I remember correctly. Even to a kid, the natural reaction was, "What the?!"<br />
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Next to the comics, the most powerful interaction I had with the character was through Batman the Animated Series. Bruce Timm, Paul, Dini, Alan Burnett, and so many others expertly crafted a show which was deep, rich, and spellbinding. The city and character designs, the atmosphere, and the average story quality were above anything else on television at the time. To this day, the influence and success of this series drives superhero animation at Warner Brothers, but things have fallen off in terms of quality and direction, it seems. It's too bad they lost sight of where they were so right not that many years ago.<br />
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At 80 years old, Batman is still with us, and he's still changing the lives of his fans through various forms of media. The character might not always feel like he's in the best hands, and many mistakes have been made with his handling over the years, but I feel that the core of who and what the character is will always see him through.<br />
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Here's to another 80 years of Batman!<br />
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Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-75441912627063392972019-03-29T18:45:00.003-04:002019-03-31T16:07:56.659-04:00Joe Bob BriggsI remember Monstervision. It was one of the few programs on cable television which really meant something to me as a kid. Along with early Nicktoons, Are You Afraid of the Dark?, MTV's Liquid Television and Oddities, and Mystery Science Theater 3,000, it created an atmosphere unlike anything else I had encountered. Altogether, through tone, aesthetic, and rich content these shows provided near endless entertainment and helped drastically shape who I would become.<br />
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The host of Monstervision was one of those personalities who boldly stood out on the ridge of excellence above the depressingly mediocre valley of TV content. Joe Bob Briggs was the charming, witty, and insightful guide to a world of some of the strangest, worst, and best horror films to have ever been printed upon celluloid. His Southern qualities made him seem disarming and familiar while his knowledge of cinema astounded many who happened upon his program. The set for his show, a kitschy sort of trailer, which almost seemed like a less surreal Wayne White design, was incredibly enchanting, and it made me long for such a trailer in a movie set-like desert landscape where I could one day move and contemplate film.<br />
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Unfortunately for many of us television viewers, Joe Bob eventually moved on from Monstervision after TNT altered and eventually brought it to an end. He continues to write with an entertaining voice and an admirable outlook on life and movies. In the last year he made a return to a sort of televised host position, reprising the role of himself on Shudder where he once again takes the time to talk to an audience which is settled in for the best and worst of exploitation films and horror cinema.<br />
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Television and cinema history owe a debt of gratitude to the work Joe Bob did and continues to do. He's one of the more qualified and reliable voices which expresses itself in regard to film and film history. If you're someone who needs a compass to guide you toward worthwhile viewing experiences, you can't go wrong with Joe Bob's recommendations.<br />
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Reaching for a tonally appropriate quote with which to draw this brief blurb about a beloved Southern television host and movie critic to a close, allow me to paraphrase and slightly alter a line spoken by Sam Elliott's "The Stranger" in the movie The Big Lebowski: "Joe Bob Briggs abides. I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe Bob Briggs, back in the Monstervision days.</td></tr>
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<br />Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-66179550316113524372019-03-28T16:38:00.000-04:002019-03-28T16:38:34.623-04:00The beginning of a daily routine designed to go on forever...It has been some time since I wrote anything, especially here. That's mainly because I lost a lot of hope and a lot of faith in myself, which lead to the loss of a great deal of time. Too much time.<br />
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Today I decided to fix that. I decided to make daily writing a mandatory exercise. It's time to get to work. It's time for regular output. It's time to get to going somewhere different than I've been.<br />
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I'm continuing here on Random Verbosity, because I hope that putting the new beside the old will allow readers to see some development over time. Seeing that development might explain some things about who I am or who I became. It might be like a useful copy of a marked, notated, and raggedy map from some great journey.<br />
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I'm here to write. I can't think of any other reason why I was born or why I continue to live. So I will write. I must.<br />
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I hope that you'll join me and read.<br />
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Thank you.Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-64868176155545167282015-02-28T00:38:00.000-05:002015-02-28T00:38:07.408-05:00Leonard Nimoy - A Great LossI was little. By little I mean I was three or four when my uncle first introduced me to the original Star Trek. It's been in my life since such an early stage that it's a part of how I began to perceive the universe around me. It's practically a part of my personality's core, its DNA. Basically, I can't remember a time when I didn't know the Enterprise and her amazing crew or think about them as regularly as I thought of family members. <br />
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While I didn't grow up in the 1960s, or the 70s when the original series was in syndication, Star Trek was present at such an early period that I feel an ownership of it similar to the folks who were watching back when. Before I saw The Next Generation, which was a whole other part of my childhood, I was aware of the men I'd come to call my "Three Dads." James T. Kirk, Leonard McCoy, and Spock were the power trio of the Enterprise and each an equal part of my early concept of manhood. They taught me to think, to feel, and to face life in both good and bad times. There are days throughout my life when I know I would have faltered and possibly shattered if I didn't have their lessons ingrained in the structure of my thinking processes. <br />
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So, to simply state my point, Star Trek is such an important series to me that it defines me in a way. That being said, the news I received today that actor Leonard Nimoy passed away hit me like train. I read a text from my wife before my lunch break at work. It just read, "Leonard Nimoy is gone." Like that, gone. Even at this moment I'd rather think of it in those terms than to use the word "Dead." To say that he is gone or that he's away is accurate, and it's certainly far more comforting. Not to mention, it's appropriate for a man who seemed to be the kind of celebrity and actor who was able to transcend this existence and become a genuine living legend. He's gone. The legendary Leonard Nimoy is away.<br />
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Not only was Leonard Nimoy a great actor who defined one of the most iconic characters in Twentieth Century Popular Culture, he was also an incredible artist and from most accounts he was a kind soul. I never had the chance to meet him. I heard he retired from conventions years ago anyway, so I didn't expect to ever get the opportunity. I wish I could have, though. There are so many things I would have said. I would have thanked him for his acting, his art, and for his contributions to my personal development. I would have asked silly questions about Star Trek, and I would have thanked him for his part in The Pagemaster, an animated film which really affected me when I first saw it (I knew his was the voice of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde as soon as I heard it when I first saw this movie).<br />
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One often reads or hears accounts of how Star Trek actors are confronted with the differences they made by just putting on a suit and standing on a sound stage for hours, days, months, and years. I can't imagine what it's like to be a working actor who suddenly, one day, is told that they actually saved a life by bringing their craft to some words on a page. Leonard Nimoy, I'm certain, was informed of this constantly, and I'm equally certain that almost all of those claims are true. For my part it is, at least. If it wasn't for his portrayal of Spock I'd have had no model with which to confront technical and complex forms of work or thinking strategies to sort out the chaos of life. Whenever things get rough I I think of his Spock and I get a sense of clarity. I can't explain it more than that. I just do.<br />
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I hope he's well wherever he is. He's done more in his long life than most people ever do, and that is really amazing when you think about all he accomplished. It's heartbreaking to know that he's gone, but he'll never be forgotten. I'll see him again soon, sitting there at his station on the Bridge of the Enterprise or in a documentary. I'll hear his voice when I go "In Search Of" one mystery or another through his classic series on the strange and paranormal. He's one of the amazing few who, unlike most who pass on, will always be with us. That's comforting, enough to diminish the sadness. He will still be sorely missed, though.<br />
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Thank you, Mr. Nimoy.<br />
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<br />Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-75564647491119353182015-01-17T15:54:00.002-05:002020-03-05T21:01:30.335-05:00Nintendo Kid - The First GlanceI'll take you back in my timeline for a moment. It was a Christmas in the late 80s. The fog of age slightly obscures certain details, but there are those portions which remain crisp regardless. We, my little sister and me, were handed a large box and told by our grandparents that, "This is for the two of you to share." The wrapping paper quickly gave way as clumsy kid hands desperately assaulted the generic holiday designed layer to tear free a box with an image which will remain burned into my memory for all time. There, in front of a star field background was the image of a grey and black box with two rectangular items adjacent to it. Above this curious-looking object was emblazoned, in silver and white, the name "Nintendo." At that moment I had gazed upon one of the things which would influence my creativity and provide me entertainment in various ways for the rest of my life. <br />
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I wonder if the heads of the Nintendo company could have realized the impact of their decision to branch out and experiment in the video gaming industry. This was something beyond mere novelty items, toys, or hanafuda cards. They were going to be making legendary items which would be revered by millions for many generations to come. They were, themselves, becoming legends. <br />
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I look back on my early Nintendo days and can't help but feel that warmth which pervades the center of my being whenever I gaze back fondly on the good times of old. I spent so many hours beating bosses, wandering through dungeons and levels, and bathing in the flickering glow of power-ups and in-game success. Those were truly halcyon days for a kid who didn't have much else. Nintendo, comics, cartoons, and some toys all made my childhood and shaped who I was and who I became. I owe so much to those stern old Japanese guys (and that one amazingly eccentric guy, Shigeru Miyamoto) in suits from years past. It's been almost thirty years since I first joined the elite of "Club Nintendo." My glob, has it been that long?!Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-64408925163241826412015-01-15T14:15:00.001-05:002015-01-15T14:19:54.675-05:00Akira Toriyama's Jaco the Galactic Patrolman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9kyRu1bJY-9B5P4gwc8sQ80u1ZoBj4-1P7I-a9th_eAJwrV23shpkXj-Au8YhQ11TsXWacILHaUWKafn0oOr6Yx0t1acsULHRbd6ekBlWshPmj3cNKiuqtkAYA-bvbb9GjVwr5j_r3E/s1600/toriyama.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit9kyRu1bJY-9B5P4gwc8sQ80u1ZoBj4-1P7I-a9th_eAJwrV23shpkXj-Au8YhQ11TsXWacILHaUWKafn0oOr6Yx0t1acsULHRbd6ekBlWshPmj3cNKiuqtkAYA-bvbb9GjVwr5j_r3E/s1600/toriyama.jpeg" /></a></div>
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Akira Toriyama has been providing me and thousands of others with
entertaining material for decades. He is definitely amongst the elite in
my opinion, which is why he's safely within my "Top five" favorite
mangaka. After creating many amazing and beloved works - such as the
Dragonball series, Dr. Slump, Sandland, and others - he's returned to
offer up another charming title, which I feel will soon find as
dedicated a fanbase as his other creations (even one apart from the
Dragonball/Z fanbase, <b>**SPOILER**</b> to which this title should technically be tied).</div>
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Jaco the Galactic Patrolman (or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jaco_the_Galactic_Patrolman"><span class="t_nihongo_kanji" lang="ja">銀河パトロール ジャコ</span> <i>Ginga Patorōru Jako</i></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" title="Help:Installing Japanese character sets"><span class="t_nihongo_icon" style="color: #0000ee; font: bold 80% sans-serif; padding: 0 .1em; text-decoration: none;"></span></a>)
is a single volume manga which consists of 247 pages of what I think is
some of Toriyama-sama's best work. It details the Earth-bound
adventures of an egotistical, clumsy, "Elite" Galactic Patrolman, named
Jaco, a member of a galactic police agency which serves the Galactic King. After bumping into the moon on his way to Earth, Jaco makes a
less-than-graceful landing in the ocean just a few feet from the docks
of an unnamed island upon which only an old man resides. After bringing
his damaged craft ashore the relationship between this quirky alien cop
and old man Omori, the narrator of the tale and a scientist/engineer living amongst the ruins of
his failed time travel experiment, begins to awkwardly grow. Through the
events which follow their meeting a bizarre friendship is formed, one
which I would gladly continue to read if Toriyama ever decides to revisit these
characters.</div>
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In terms of characters, this manga has
some interesting folks to offer. Omori is a quiet, aged, misanthropic
man who keeps a simple home, overlooking the destruction caused by his
attempts to meddle with time - meddling which cost him his wife's life.
He remains in a sort of hermitage away from the rest of the world and
even harbors a strong resentment toward other humans. Jaco, somewhat
annoying yet fascinating to Omori, is a braggart who fails to grasp the
gravity of his consistently clumsy nature. He is on Earth, though stuck
here because of the damage caused by his moon collision, in advance of
the arrival of a potential world-destroying alien being who is supposed
to land on Earth sometime in the days following his arrival. He is to
eliminate the alien threat or, if he proves unable to do so, he must use
an "Extinction Bomb," which would wipe out all human life on Earth. It
would also be of tremendous interest to him to be able to acquire some
"Sky Gold" in order to power his ship so that he can return home, though
he and Omori realize that this would require something like seventy-six
million yen to pull off. So, not easily attainable, to say the least.</div>
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Eventually the two head
toward the mainland for supplies (Jaco craves milk and cheese, the
closest approximations to items from his regular diet) and encounter the first of
several other characters, a girl named Tights (I'm sure some
of you might note that this is yet another Toriyama character named after
clothing, hmm...wonder what the connection could be?). Jaco meets her as he goes to her aid while she is
being harassed by a gang of anachronistic street toughs, which Jaco
pummels along with two policemen which he mistakes as being part of the
gang. To show her gratitude she helps the two escape the attention of
the police and get back to the island. Other characters show up as the
story progresses, most of them are tie bear-collecting government agents
trying to take the island from Omori or capture the "Mask Man," the
name applied by the media to Jaco, much to his supreme dislike.
Eventually we learn who Tights is and how she connects to an annoying (annoying to Omori) background element of a pop idol who is soon to be soaring into space aboard a rocket as a publicity stunt, according to the television media. That's not the only or most interesting connection Tights has within this world, though, but I'll let you read the manga to find out the rest.</div>
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Regarding the style and feel of this manga, as I've already state, I feel that this is one of Toriyama's best works. I found myself constantly studying his simple, beautiful line work. The dynamic posing and simple character design of Jaco is something I feel only an experienced artist, such as Toiryama, can attain. With any character created by someone who has been doing such work for years, Jaco is minimal in detail and yet so very expressive. He might be my favorite manga character in terms of design alone. Also, I was often lost in the detail of Omori's face, and speaking of Omori's design, the scars marking his body tell his back story better than any flashback sequence. You only need to read that he was present for a technical accident and see him to know that some rough stuff occurred in his past. </div>
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The world has some wonderful design as well. Occasionally you'll see crabs, cats, some dinosaurs, or the random ant-eater on the island or in the city on the mainland. This is typical if you've read Dragonball, but it's such a nice touch which does so much to place you in this unfamiliar yet Earth-like world. In terms of landscape design, I think that Omori's island is one of my favorite sets from any graphic story. I badly want to live on that island, so much so that I've been dreaming about it since I started reading this manga!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEgNX36tb4nNcDtgN6HnBYfhvWobNkDN6pJ3EigaIfO_3VjY71sWuxIsIdq6Nwjw84Sk5TFsv7VhhQbb78yq9IAXKLsYhw0l-Kz0JXmk0yQqUa01ktBtaykBEWJ-5mdieNOFL-eD32xA/s1600/Omori's_Island.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEgNX36tb4nNcDtgN6HnBYfhvWobNkDN6pJ3EigaIfO_3VjY71sWuxIsIdq6Nwjw84Sk5TFsv7VhhQbb78yq9IAXKLsYhw0l-Kz0JXmk0yQqUa01ktBtaykBEWJ-5mdieNOFL-eD32xA/s1600/Omori's_Island.png" height="254" width="320" /></a></div>
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Now, the ending chapters of this title are what will matter most to long-time fans of Toriyama, especially those who are dedicated to the Dragonball universe. That being said, this manga is a perfect stand-alone which offers a complete story and incredible characters, so don't be turned off by the end tie-in to Dragonball if you're not interested in that series. What you get at the end is a look at the Saiyan people and Goku's origin, which is advertised on the cover of the manga so this isn't really a spoiler. Turns out, and this <i>is</i> a <b>spoiler</b>, the world-destroying alien Jaco was sent to destroy is a sort of refugee from planet Vegeta. If I tell you that a certain Son Gohan discovers this child alien and adopts him I would have done enough to tell you just who was meant to be in Jaco's sights, but since Jaco is Jaco, and you'll understand this better when you've read the manga, he misses his opportunity. Would you believe me if I told you it's because he was explaining how his species pees to Tights? This is surprisingly the most immature moment of this manga, one obviously meant for the shonen audience.<br />
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So, there you have it. My review of one of the best new manga I've read in a while. I first learned of it through an email advert from Viz, and after looking over the preview chapter (available for reading through the <a href="http://www.viz.com/manga/print/jaco-the-galactic-patrolman/11119">Viz Media</a> app on Android or iOS) I decided to rush out and buy a physical copy (because paper is always going to be better to me!). I'm happy with that choice, and if you do the same I'm certain you will be, too. Here's hoping we see more of Jaco in the future, but if we don't I'm happy with what we have. What we have, by the way, is a fun and endearing manga. </div>
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Thank you for reading.</div>
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Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-81345428588572940742015-01-12T20:50:00.000-05:002015-01-15T14:15:42.635-05:00Giant Monster Movies and ChildhoodThere was a time during my early childhood when my family would
gather and watch a large assortment of bizarre science fiction and monster
movies. To this day I still can't recall how my uncle acquired copies of
some of those movies, whether through some unknown cable channel or a
video source. Regardless of how we were able to view them, we watched all kinds of films and classic series, some of which
I can't easily find today. It was during that period that I learned of
Godzilla, Rodan, and several other amazing Japanese giant monsters. Come
to think of it, that was probably also when I watched my first Ray
Harryhausen films, as we would occasionally throw old black and white American monster films into the mix. No offense to the great Harryhausen, but I found and still find the Japanese monsters to be the best.<br />
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I've been fortunate to discover so many other giant monster-related
wonders such as the Ultraman and Gamera series. I was that kid who took part in one those
typical and silly discussions with classmates about which was the
stronger monster, Godzilla or Gamera. I even attempted to draw the great daikaiju legends from time to time, never quite to my satisfaction.<br />
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These days I find that I keep returning to those old films. Maybe it's my subconscious reaching out for a connection with my childhood. Perhaps it's just the nerd in me flexing itself in a different direction for a change. Whatever the reason, I have to say that I can't help but dismiss the poor effects, the floopy storylines, and the overacting. I feel compelled to embrace the "Suit-mation" created and perfected by the mighty Eiji Tsuburaya. Kaiju Eiga (Japanese monster movies) was and remains a genre which knows itself, and it's that confidence and the continued honoring of that approach to movie-making which makes it so endearing.<br />
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So, join me when you can. Pop in Destroy All Monsters or Gamera vs. Barugon. Sit back and enjoy the high sci-fi look into a world where giant monsters walk the Earth!<br />
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<br />Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-49307278377642550812014-08-12T20:42:00.000-04:002015-01-15T14:15:29.283-05:00Robin Williams<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sifting through tears over the last nearly twenty four hours I realized that the death I first heard about yesterday evening after completing the unpacking of our library was the most powerful death of a non-family member I could possibly endure. Robin Williams' passing was like hearing that a beloved uncle or father-figure had died. It was, and still is, like an unrelenting shockwave of sorrow.</div>
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I interact with entertainment media with an open heart, and if it's media I enjoy then I embrace it wholly - I suppose it's why I'm such a fan of movies and such. Robin Williams' work has been some of the easiest to embrace and the warmest, most beautiful to enjoy. I grew up with Mrs. Doubtfire, Aladdin, Hook, Bicentennial Man, What Dreams May Come, Patch Adams, and others. In some way each character Williams played in each of those films reached me. They were pitiable, loveable, and they led the viewer into the heart of humanity and, to a certain extent, the meaning of existence. If you were to watch them with the right eyes and in a certain emotional state you could find yourself understanding them and, surprisingly, better understanding yourself.</div>
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I can't get rid of the thought of a lonely, horrifically depressed genius making a horrible decision because all hope had fled. The thought is like a nightmare which won't fade no matter how distracted I attempt to be or how much I think of other things. I just replay the imagined scene of a crying man lost in despair. I think about that and I unfortunately relate. I've known something akin to those kinds of feelings. I even believe that I can in some way understand what led to that tragic choice. </div>
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Even now I'm still processing all of this. At this point I'm certain that I need to escape the world for a few days to clear my thoughts. It's difficult not to be in a dark place now, especially since a person who seemed to posses the soul of joy surrendered to the darkness surrounding life. What good can possibly be left if the good people willingly lay down?</div>
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I hope that Mr. Williams' family will be able to get through this and that they will be well. I hope that they can process all of this at some point and move forward. I hope that they can find a reason in their lives to illegitimatize the shadowed logic of their lost loved one.</div>
Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-58320175360899593542014-07-20T11:26:00.000-04:002015-01-15T14:15:51.974-05:00Fenian's Irish Pub - A Somewhat Hidden Emerald In An American Landscape<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you wind your way back through the crisscross of country roads around the Northwest region of Grand Rapids, Michigan and then beyond, traverse some hills and dip through modest valleys, pass orchards where the smoke from wood fires carries the aroma of dreams, and remain vigilant for a sign which reads "Conklin," you might just find <a href="http://www.feniansirishpub.com/home.htm">Fenian's Irish Pub</a>. It's positioned prominently on the village's Main Street, which is an apt name for it appears to be the only street in Conklin of any importance. So, cease the aimless wandering which carried you over the distance, park your vehicle, and shuffle on inside. </div>
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My wife and I made such an excursion a few years ago and have found ourselves drawn back randomly ever since. Whenever we hear a spot of Irish music or if I find myself suddenly salivating over the thought of a Guinness with a basket of fried pickles and chips we, like enchanted pilgrims, strike out near the end of day, Conklin-bound. </div>
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Truly, there are few places which hold any significance for us around Grand Rapids (where we've lived for too many years). Most of the places in this area which one might haunt are geared toward a clientele consisting of neophyte drinkers, aspiring alcoholics, or sad folk who have become so invested in the idea of having themselves defined by the fleeting fancy of a fad-fueled scene. Organic, comfortable environs are a rarity in this burg of cheaply manufactured culture and hollow motivations. It is its distance from such a shallow hive, not only in miles but also in spirit, which makes Fenian's a wondrous escape.</div>
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I learned of its existence and heard hints of its character while attending college. It was during Professor Roger Schlosser's Irish History course that I was informed of Fenian's charm and warmth and its owner's ability to pour what might possibly be the best pint of Guinness in America. After a time, well after I started living with the woman who would one day be my wife, I suggested that we locate the pub and give it a shot. It turned out to be one of the best suggestions I've ever made. </div>
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For years since we've made a point of paying as many visits as we can. It's especially magnificent toward the fall when the apples are ready for picking and the Fall weather is at its most magical. It's then that the shimmering green hills and the multi-colored leaves of the Autumn season inspire dreamy thoughts. It is this aspect of Fenian's and its surroundings, often enhanced by drink-fueled mists of the days and nights of pint guzzling, which I think will stay with me and forever preserve it in my mind. </div>
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Now we're readying ourselves for a move to Atlanta, Georgia, and we've spent the last couple of weeks making an attempt to visit the few places we hold dear. Last Wednesday, Irish Music Night naturally, we ventured out to hear the old songs and enjoy the food and drink. Classics were played and sung, with the usual renditions of "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hxqm24MTdBs">The Old Dun Cow</a>" and "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWilmT36RGc">The Old Triangle</a>." We drank and ate and conversed with familiar faces, and some new ones as well. At the end, riding high in a fog of Guinness and joy, I had the opportunity to finally personally thank the owner, Terry Reagan, for everything he and his pub have done for me. Quite the bittersweet moment.<br />
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And so ends an era of my life. The pub lives on, though, like the legend that it is and still lies out amongst those beautiful hills and stands of marvelous trees. If you find yourself in Grand Rapids, Michigan, do yourself a favor and go exploring out Conklin way. Tell Mr. Reagan that Jonathan Sample said, "Hello." <br />
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Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-5454197728030276822014-03-23T17:45:00.003-04:002020-03-05T21:02:20.421-05:00Batman: The Cult<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Four prestige formatted books, bound together in a Mylar bag rested upon a glass-encased shelf at one of West Michigan's greatest comic book stores. In spite of the sizable bundle of single issues I had already selected from the numerous back issue boxes which crowded the center of the store, and the fact that I was in the process of exceeding my self-imposed ten dollar budget for comics, I scoffed at the $12.95 price tag and asked the clerk to pull the set for purchase. It never hurts to have too many comics to read, I thought, and besides, I had been anxious to read Batman: The Cult since I first heard Kevin Smith discussing it during an episode of his Batman-centric podcast, Fatman on Batman. </div>
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I won't extensively delve into my history with the character of Batman here, but I have been a dedicated fan since I was a very small child and my father thrust me in front of the television while Tim Burton's film played. My father had just purchased a VHS of the movie from the local grocer Winn Dixie (we resided in Florida at the time), and the hype he raised for it completely sold me on the character before the tape even left its box. So, I've known of and loved the character since then and have only become more familiar with and dedicated to him since. </div>
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Returning to the present and my tale, I eventually made my way home after a Saturday afternoon spent observing the holiest of days in the week of any fan of anything either cartoon, comic, or in any way related to either cartoons or comics. After bagging and boarding something like thirty single issues, all great stories published within the last twenty to thirty years, I pulled out The Cult and proceeded to dive in. </div>
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One of the first things a reader will notice about The Cult, and one of things for which I was most excited, is the exceptional and atmospheric artistic style of Berni Wrightson. Having co-created Swamp Thing with Len Wein, Berni Wrightson has been a brilliant force in the medium since the late 1960s, working with characters like Batman and various others from both DC and Marvel Comics. I first discovered his work through a House of Secrets reprint, which bore a cover depicting a stunning Swamp Thing being assaulted by a posse of random townsfolk; a reprint which Mr. Wrightson was kind enough to sign for me at a comic convention a few years back. </div>
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Few other artists can capture anatomy in as powerful and as effective a way as Wrightson, whose Cult renderings of Bruce Wayne in particular display a weight and dimension as well as a sturdiness seldom seen in other depictions of the character. In moments throughout the mini-series he composed several memorable panels which conveyed Batman's suffering, the grim nature of Gotham after the main events of the story, and the gradual restoration of Batman's psyche as he struggled to free his mind from the hallucinogenic effects of the antagonist's tools of manipulation. Also, his skill with what is often labeled a "Horror Style" is evident in sequences throughout the series in which Batman is exposed to macabre piles of corpses and the many hanging bodies of Gothamites on display in order to discourage rebellion. In my opinion Wrightson's work was most definitely the best part of the series.</div>
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In regard to the story itself I found that I was both impressed at the scale of the events which transpired and disappointed at how the writer, Jim Starlin, used the character of Bruce Wayne/Batman throughout the series. Firstly, for those who are unaware of this fact or have not yet read this series, The Cult was one of the greatest influences upon the story of Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer's The Dark Knight Rises. From the secret society of driven individuals operating out of the "Underworld" of Gotham to that society's charismatic, extremist leader to the shift in power in Gotham into the hands of the band of extremists, so much about The Cult is familiar after having viewed Nolan's film. In terms of scale, what occurred in Gotham City through the four issues of this series was incredibly epic and dramatically altered the landscape of this familiar comic book setting. </div>
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To provide some background before proceeding into my opinions of the story, The Cult follows Batman through both maddening internal struggles and his physical journey through a crumbling society which slacks permissively before the forces of chaos which aim to surge forth from the sewer tunnels of Gotham City. His adversary this time is a character named Deacon Blackfire, a shaman with a mystically enhanced vitality and a desire to bring Gotham under his control by utilizing the down-trodden and unstable members of society. Through religion and chemical manipulation Blackfire manages to convince a sizable portion of Gotham's homeless to aid him in combating the criminal elements of the dark metropolis, and any non-criminal obstructionists, so that he might seize control of the city.</div>
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Batman falls into the hands of Blackfire after making an unfortunate mistake while dealing with street toughs attempting to rob a food vendor one evening. Having suffered a wound from a gunshot, Batman hangs chained in captivity from the beginning of the series. From there he's drugged by Blackfire and indoctrinated into "The Cult" as the Deacon discusses his warped philosophies. We follow him then through torture, mental anguish, drug withdrawal, and the crumbling and eventual rebuilding of his personality and crusade against crime. </div>
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Starlin wrote a version of Batman in The Cult which, in my opinion, proved to be both fascinating and incredibly disappointing. I found his Bruce/Batman to be interesting because he was a version of the character which seemed more human than in most other story lines. This Batman actually seemed to feel fear, he explored that fear, and often expressed serious doubts which almost completely shattered his mind. I consider this to be a brave approach to a character who is often written to be a near-deific archetype. </div>
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What I found to be disappointing about the character of Batman in The Cult was the way in which he seemed so unprepared for what occurred while in Blackfire's custody. This wasn't a version of the character which seemed to have trained himself to combat various types of mental manipulation and physical torture. He collapsed quite easily, and was almost willing to completely abandon his philosophies and mission simply because he had been starved, abused, and chemically manipulated. Now, I understand that Batman is a human - though, he is an idealized one - and that my complaints might suggest that I expect him to be handled as the archetype and immutable hero he's become, but he is also a character who exists in a world detached from reality and has conditioned himself in such a way that it's understandable to expect him to be damn near impervious. Also, he has been driven his entire life by a mission which has caused him to go beyond, establishing hard set principles from which he could not possibly stray, for such behavior would betray the very fabric of his being. </div>
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I don't believe, having read and watched various incarnations of Batman/Bruce Wayne for most of my life, that being starved, drugged, beaten, and pursued through the corpse-ridden bowels of Gotham would cause Bruce to take up a gun or cower from combat or allow the citizens of his city to be victimized. These things occurred throughout The Cult as Batman wrestled with horrific nightmares, fled from the bloodthirsty members of Deacon Blackfire's fold, crawled about in a drug-tinged stupor, allowed Robin to take a beating while leading him out of the tunnels, and sat by as an innocent woman of Gotham was dragged into an alleyway to be brutalized and slowly murdered. These things, in spite of the events through which he travailed, are not things that Batman - the man who has trained himself for every possibility and holds firmly to strong beliefs - would allow. But this is my opinion of the nature of the character and my response to how he behaved throughout this particular story. </div>
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Despite my complaints, Batman: The Cult is a compelling read for any fan of the character because it's sure to, at the very least, incite a genuine emotional response, whether positive or negative. It's aided by the masterful renderings and compositions of Berni Wrightson through which any reader can be transported to the Stygian bowels of Gotham where madness, chaos, and suffering dwell. It features a different approach to Bruce Wayne/Batman, a glimpse into the inspiration for plot of Dark Knight Rises, and one of my favorite depictions of The Joker (again, Wrightson nailed it!). It's an experience few comic books offer. </div>
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Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-82503560408375894142013-12-15T12:36:00.003-05:002013-12-15T13:12:04.830-05:00The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug - Post-Viewing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I discovered the works of J.R.R. Tolkien when I was about twelve years old (sometime in 1997). It began when I chose The Hobbit at random from a list for a Seventh Grade book report, not knowing anything about its history or its exceptional and incredibly interesting author. Reading it opened a whole new world to me. </div>
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During my freshmen year of high school I read The Lord of the Rings. I didn't leap right into the trilogy after reading The Hobbit, even though I had heard of it in passing, because copies of the books were unavailable to me, and for some reason the idiom "Out of sight, out of mind" described my way of life in those early teenage years. However, I did see the title and cover images for the other books inside the cover of my copy of The Hobbit and I wondered at them, but I was unable to track them down until later. Though it took me a couple of years to explore the rest of Tolkien's writings, after reading The Lord of the Rings I completely immersed myself in the world of Middle Earth. I learned of its history, its peoples, its languages, and its heroes and villains. It became my universe for escape and fancy, especially when life fell apart around me. </div>
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When the films of Peter Jackson's trilogy were released I excitedly watched all of them, anxious to see my beloved literary universe brought to life. They came to theaters during a time when my family was going through several extreme rough patches and was rapidly dissolving. In those days the books and movies were a powerful comfort and very much my "World beyond the wardrobe" or simply a spiritual link for me to the beautiful dimension of imagination. They sustained me long into adulthood. </div>
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Then came Peter Jackson's take on The Hobbit, about ten years later. </div>
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News of an adaptation of The Hobbit to film had been around since just after Jackson wrapped his Rings trilogy. I, along with many of my fellow appreciators of Tolkien, were naturally very excited for this news. Even though initial reports suggested that it probably would not involve Peter Jackson, I was simply anxious to see another piece of Tolkien's Middle Earth brought to the screen. When it was eventually announced that Jackson would once again take up the reins I was thrilled because he had already given us a fine adaptation of The Lord of the Rings, and in so doing, proved his understanding of and respect for the source material - even though he did take <i>some </i>liberties with The Lord of the Rings. Then I heard that he wanted to convert the novel into another trilogy. A single novel into three films. At that announcement I suddenly remembered my concern when I heard that he wanted to add a sword-wielding Arwen to Helm's Deep. Odd changes were afoot. Frustration and concern began to set in. </div>
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The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (which I wrote on last year - <a href="http://random-verbosity.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-hobbit-unexpected-journey-review.html">here</a>) was an enjoyable film, though I did have some issues with certain aspects of the movie's story progression. In the end I chose to view it with the idea that it was an adaptation apart from the source material in several respects and should therefore be appreciated for what <i>it</i> was. So, time passed and I waited patiently for the second part of what I still considered an unnecessary trilogy.</div>
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My wife and I went to see The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug last night, the Saturday of its opening weekend. My initial reaction after viewing the film was one of anger and supreme disappointment. This stemmed mostly, again, from my feeling of unease with Jackson's desire to produce a trilogy and, considering what I had just seen, his decision to justify and make that trilogy by packing in absurd filler, seemingly to placate simple-minded movie audiences who care nothing for the source material. At least I hope that's why some of that material was included, though I detect a certain Del Toro influence in some of the story decision making, which is likely since he co-wrote the screenplay. What I mean by that statement is really a reference to my opinion that Del Toro tends to include sudden, heavy, awkward, and lengthy action sequences and to explore aspects of the characters which interest him and generally tend to have little to no connection to the source material, if he's adapting. </div>
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To state it plainly, my biggest issue with the movie was the excessive insertion of additional material and the strange diversions from the original story. Without giving too much away, I found myself bothered by the inclusion of a ridiculous and highly unnecessary love triangle, which included a character created by the filmmakers. One not pulled from Tolkien's writings. Then there was an alteration of a certain major player toward the end of the The Hobbit's tale, the addition of a video game-like sequence which went on for far too long, the poisoning of one of the dwarven party so that the filmmakers could include a nod to Frodo's plight in Fellowship of the Ring, and finally, the games of "Tease the Dragon" and "Let's Light the Forge" played by Bilbo and the dwarves near the end of the film. There were other additions to the original story, but in my opinion, those made sense in terms of creating a film experience for the every-viewer. </div>
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Many things in The Desolation of Smaug excited and very much pleased me, though. Beorn was fantastic, though he was underused and the sequence in his home was unfortunately diminished. The Mirkwood sequence was well executed, and they even thought to include Bilbo's time above the canopy of the wood, surrounded by the butterflies. The elven hall was exceptional, though the film did not need either Legolas or his manufactured counterpart Tauriel. I also thought that Lake Town was well done, and I appreciated the culture of the Lake Folk which the film represented. There were other moments or locations which were exciting to watch, and for most of the film I found myself wanting to both desperately reread the books and to quickly strike up a game of Dungeons and Dragons. </div>
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In regard to any feelings of inspiration or longing generated by this film, the largest impulse I had when leaving the theater was to go and seek out a copy of the Rankin-Bass animated feature. Of all the Tolkien adaptations, the Rankin-Bass Hobbit came closest to the tone, style, and overall feel of what I felt was at the heart of the novel. Sure, it left out some great sequences from the book, but the character and world design along with the flow of the story matched my original feelings when I first read The Hobbit. Perhaps I'll pay a visit to Amazon after writing this post so that I can finally own a copy.<br />
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It was not my intent to write a scathing review of the movie, but I did want to explain my perspective and my reaction to the film in hopes that other Tolkien enthusiasts would read this and use caution when viewing it or contact me with their opinions of the movie. The above consists greatly of my opinions, so know that I don't claim to have the correct outlook on the film or the only valid view. Basically, see it and decide for yourself, but know that someone who grew up loving the books upon which this film was based felt mixed-to-disappointed about the film. </div>
Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-92070362192010395662013-11-02T02:05:00.000-04:002013-11-02T02:05:31.773-04:00Ender's Game - A Review<div style="text-align: justify;">
From the off I'll just state that it's unfortunate that the man who wrote the book upon which the film Ender's Game was based is the reason why so many of those who chose to boycott it won't be viewing it. I understand that there is a lot of anger and quite possibly a bit of hatred out there for Orson Scott Card because of the fact that he chose to share his ridiculous opinions, but the film and the book, for that matter, don't represent or support the negative opinions of the author. So, whether you see it or not, let me get into what I enjoyed about the movie Ender's Game.</div>
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Humanity is preparing for war, frightful and driven by their hatred toward an extraterrestrial enemy which suddenly appeared and threatened them fifty years prior to the period of the main story. Since that time humans have gone further out into space and evolved their methods for combating this ominous foe. Children have been recruited to train as leaders in the coming war because of their abilities to learn and adapt in a manner superior to adults. This is the universe of Ender's Game.</div>
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This movie was the type of science-fiction film which excites me. In design and composition, it closely resembles a future which could very well be our own. Like all great science-fiction it explores who we might be and how we might function in the future. It's a film with advanced technology and aliens, but most importantly it's a movie about humanity and life. </div>
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The components of Ender's Game which really made the film for me were the cast and the design. An exceptional cast brought to life a variety of deep and complex characters. Ender was well represented by Asa Butterfield, who managed to display the curiosity and sensitivity of a child while maintaining the calculating, tactical, and sometimes cold demeanor of Ender Wiggin. Harrison Ford, Viola Davis, Ben Kingsley, and others filled out the cast wonderfully as people who both shaped and shared the life of the main character in a universe of impending war. </div>
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In regard to the design of the film, it appears that those in charge of its look chose to build upon our currently technology to create a future which feels not only possible but, in some ways, probable. The station upon which Ender and his fellow cadets train appears to be an extended International Space Station, though with segments supporting artificial gravity (if only we had something like that available currently). The carriers and other ships appeared to be logical projections of what our current battle and space exploration tech might be in a future of a little more than half a century away. These decisions grounded the film so well that I found myself at times experiencing the awe I feel whenever I read or behold dazzlingly prophetic sci-fi. </div>
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There were points in the film which could have been better developed in my opinion. For one thing, the ending lacked the power it deserved, especially considering what occured. I think it's safe to say that it fell a little flat toward the closing portion. Also, there were portions of character development and story progression which felt rushed. I don't feel like we were given enough time with Ender as he made his way through training toward the end. Overall, the story either needed more screen time for proper development or an adjustment of some of the less important portions, though this is only my opinion.</div>
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Regardless of the poor and public decisions of Orson Scott Card, specifically in regard to the expression of his opinions, I think that those who appreciate the novel and the science-fiction genre will love this film. From what I've gathered it's release was one which caused many long-time fans to grow a bit more than concerned, but I think many of them, if they can accept this as an adaptation (something that is based on the book and not a direct filming of the book), will enjoy it for what it is. For everyone else, I think it will be entertaining as just an exciting space tale about humanity in the future as we deal with who we are and how we interact with other forms of life in the cosmos. This will be one of those films science-fiction folks will be discussing for quite some time, I think. </div>
Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-44558433108961807652013-10-08T23:40:00.001-04:002013-10-08T23:40:45.316-04:00ForcedWhy can't I just write like me? That's all I want to do in this moment, but I am instead finding myself incapable. The writing sounds off or foreign. It sounds like attempts at being someone I'm not.<br />
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I had a voice once, or so I was told. Professors, confidants, and my wife have all identified it at one point or another. It was mine. Leave it to me, the guy who couldn't detect it in the first place, to go and lose it.<br />
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I've been away from writing for too long. So many plans were made in the last few months, plans to redirect my path toward something more profitable and bearable as a future career. Plans to do anything other than write.<br />
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I was writing. Eventually I discovered that writing wasn't something I could continue. I became afraid of it. Too afraid to try, apparently. So, here I am, a clock-punching stooge like a majority of people in the world. I've turned my back on the last year of half-hearted attempts and failure of self. <br />
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I still have ideas. There are pages and pages of notes and fragments detailing potential stories, comics, plays, movies, etcetera. All of it is going to sit there, now because of avoidance begotten by dread. Why?<br />
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I'm going to try and break through. I don't know if this will work.<br />
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This is all I could get out tonight. Maybe I'll manage more some other time. Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-22014859193059849282013-10-01T22:52:00.001-04:002013-10-01T22:52:35.727-04:00Return to the Life of SisyphusThe dream has ended and the work is frozen. That line accurately describes both the status of my life and of my ailing sprout of a writing career. The development of the composing of stories has been arrested by the needs of life. I have had to return to a punch-clock job to help my wife and I recover and maintain. Once again it is time to push the boulder back up the hill and then to chase it down again, to repeat the process without ceasing.<br />
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I must admit, the work I do for my new employer could be worse, and it does pay very well, but a tiny portion of me, powered by a nagging trait carried by my unfortunate genes, demands that I dissect this new way of living and never give up on finding a reason to complain. I tire of being me, or at least that version of me. So, I've all but completely dispatched my inner self and found a way to bite down, ignore the life that moves around me, and ride out this ride known as "The Way Things Are."<br />
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I mean, it's only for now. Right?<br />
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As for creative pursuits, I'm sure that I'll find the will to continue them and to continue trying to put stuff out there for people. Eventually malaise will evaporate, giving way to partial numbness, and I'll feel okay about continuing my efforts. For now things of that sort are the last things on my mind.Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-55574568009672347402013-08-31T05:10:00.006-04:002013-08-31T05:11:17.536-04:00Home Intruder<div style="text-align: justify;">
My wife and I arrived home after attending a gathering at her friend's house. I was exhausted and Trudy was a little tipsy from a few drinks. All we wanted was to unwind and drift off to sleep. </div>
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As soon as we walked into our apartment, though, I noticed an offensive odor. It was a revolting amalgamation of ammonia and dung. I immediately assumed that one of our cats had released some foul waste product in their litter box, but the smell from the "Cat hallway" was not as nearly as offensive as the smell in the dining room. </div>
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After half an hour of wondering what was causing the smell, relaxing, and swearing harm to the cats if they took up urinating in the dining room, I noticed a flicker in the air beyond our bedroom door and a sudden wave of panic which rushed through our cat Molly and our dog Goldie. When they both settled into a half-seated stance we noticed that they were both gazing at the top of the refrigerator. What the hell, I wondered?</div>
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Some more time passed and they became less concerned with the fridge. We assumed that it must have been some noise from our upstairs neighbor and nothing more. We assumed incorrectly. </div>
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My curiosity eventually got the better of me, and I went out to begin to remove items from the top of the fridge. I took down some spray bottles and a box of garbage bags. I grabbed the dog food bag and a container of dog treats. I then went for one of the two last things atop the icebox, a package of paper towel rolls. That's when the panic returned in full force and all sorts of hell broke loose. </div>
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A winged shadow leapt into the air and began bobbing around about me in a mad flight. I quickly fell back into the bedroom and shouted, "It's a bat!"</div>
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A small brown bat was apparently nesting behind the paper towels inside a small cooler we were storing up there. We don't know how long it had been in the house or how it managed to make it inside. All I knew was that it was in the dining room flying circles around the ceiling fan, attracting the attention of both of our cats. </div>
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Furious, I considered my options and shouted back potential plans to Trudy who just wanted it out of the house. It took some time for me to figure out where it might be, how I might approach the removal, and to steel myself for facing a small, speedy flying grotesquerie (I'm not a fan of bats). Eventually, with winter gloves pulled over my hands, stretched as far as they would go up my forearms, and with a tan fedora atop my head, complete with a small brown feather in its band, I charged out to survey the room. </div>
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It didn't take long to find the fiend, dangling from atop a slightly ajar cabinet door. Jellybean, the older of our cats, was watching it, showing an uncharacteristic interest in this new oddity. I moved to the kitchen to retrieve a broom, certain that my initial plan of braining it with a wooden dowel would be fairly ineffective in comparison. </div>
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With broom in hand I moved up, positioning my legs for a stance which would allow a lung as well as the opportunity to dive into the bedroom should my aim fail and the creature dive at me. I swung and dislodged it, which naturally sent it back into a frantic spin around the ceiling fan. It managed to dodge the broom head several times, making several more rounds, until the broom finally connected and sent it crashing to the floor. After it hit it went somewhat limp and supine, apparently only able to move its head from side-to-side. I was certain that I'd caused enough damage to prevent it from moving, but I couldn't just let it sit there suffering or throw it outside to slowly die in agony. </div>
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I brought the broom head down upon it slowly, and with my free hand I aimed the dowel so that I could strike at it through the straw of the broom. One. Two. Three. Four heavy strikes rained down upon it, and I gently lifted the broom to verify its expiration. Based on what I saw, it was quite deceased. </div>
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The clean up was fairly easy, though. I found a spare rag to throw over and wrap around it, and then I threw that into the cooler which held a few pieces of what must have been its feces. I carried it out to the dumpster and threw it away. </div>
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Our animals have calmed down now, and Trudy seems to be resting easy, though she showed significant fear in response to my killing of the bat. Perhaps it was the irrational anger I released upon it. I know that I loathed killing it. I'm sorry that I was too disturbed in the moment to think of another way. </div>
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So, that's tonight's bat story. </div>
Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-82935513030480913222013-07-26T12:43:00.005-04:002013-07-29T12:09:48.802-04:00The Wolverine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Allow me to begin by alleviating any fanboy fears. This year's The Wolverine is ten times the film that 2009's X-Men Origins: Wolverine was, at least in my opinion. Not to say that I completely hated Origins, but this year's Wolvie movie had a superior story, wonderful cinematography, and it arranged things in such a way that the idea of a strong, ongoing X-Men film series is not only possible but so very likely (X-Men: Days of Future Past is shooting now, by the way!). Also, in writing about the movie I might give a bit more away than some are comfortable with. You've been warned! </div>
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The Wolverine brings the viewing audience up to speed on the state of the X-Men Universe after the events of X-Men 3: The Last Stand. In fact, I found this installment to be Fox's declaration that they have worked to develop the continuity of their X-Men Filmverse and they're sticking to it. This is a fantastic stand, because in doing so they are acknowledging the one thing that the fan community has yet to open itself to and that's the idea of a film continuity apart from the comic source material. It's a movie series based on a comic book series. By nature it's different, so comparisons are not only unnecessary, they're almost completely meaningless.</div>
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The story follows Logan from a flashback to the grim days of World War II when Nagasaki was brutalized by The Bomb. Then we're sent forward in the timeline to a wintry setting in the years after the death of Jean Grey and Logan's departure from the X-Men. He's hold up in a cave, drinking away his sorrows, dreaming of the woman he loved and killed. From there he runs into some troublesome hunters who made the mistake of unjustly killing a bear for which he had a respect and an understanding, catches the eye of a certain Japanese woman who has been sent to retrieve him, and is jetted off to meet with a dying acquaintance of sorts.</div>
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All of the events in the film, as we progress from the bestial Logan living amongst the animals in the wild to the warrior with a renewed sense of purpose and an acceptance of the tragedies of the past, we see a growth of character in Wolverine and a typical hero's journey. He begins the movie a hero during wartime. We then witness the wreck he has become, an animal living in the woods, subsisting, respecting and being respected by his fellow beasts. As he's pulled from his surrender to his animalistic nature he's given opportunities to process his feelings for the late Jean Grey. Logan is then given purpose when he becomes entangled in the chaos surrounding the Yashida family of Japan. Overall, without giving anything else away, we're able to witness the reforging of the warrior Wolverine and his sense of self. As must occur many times throughout his tragic life, Logan is forced to deal and, in so doing, grow.</div>
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There are many great nods to moments from Wolverine's comic heritage, not to compare the film to the events or continuity of any comic storylines. His quiet, predator-to-predator respect for the bear who in turn shows him the respect of distance harkens back to those moments in the X-Men and Wolverine comics when Logan would be out amongst nature, another animal in the animal kingdom. We are also given the classic Japanese storyline from Logan's past, though this time it's set in his post-X-Men years and, in the case of the movie universe, perfectly so. Then there's the quality and nature of the action which was definitely another comic-like aspect of this film. We got to see Wolvie being the best he is at what he does and doing it in a manner which is anything but nice. Add to this the comic book look of the costume of a certain villainess and the design scheme of one of the film's most imposing antagonists who, in a powerful way, redefines the look and function of Wolverine going forward, and you have a movie that was more comic book-y than most comic book-based films.</div>
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I do have some issues with the movie, though. There was a continuity error in one sequence when the villainess went to remove her left glove. Due to poor editing she ended up removing it twice. Ouch! Also, I found the end battle to feel a bit hammy. Sure, it's a comic book-like battle, and I read comic books, but the way in which Wolverine fights the main antagonist and what happens to him in the process seemed a bit off from the feel of the rest of the film. There were several moments, some featuring combat, in which the character-developing quality of the movie's story was abandoned so that claws and guns could go up against each other with many gratuitous "Snikts" and "Bangs" to appease the action audience. This kind of weakened the film at times. These were the only serious issues I had with the film. </div>
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Regardless of a few minor complaints, I was highly entertained throughout the film, and I am thankful that I was able to find an open viewing time at 10pm last night, Thursday. This is the kind of movie I love to see as soon as it hits, if not sooner. If you're a fan of superhero comics, The X-Men, Wolverine as a character, and exciting action movies, then you owe it to yourself to see this filmic hero's journey in theaters as soon as you possibly can. Also, <i>sit through the credits</i>. DO NOT make the mistake of walking out as soon as the screen goes dark. Trust me on this.</div>
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<br />Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579011376863675960.post-49353202883219000682013-07-24T18:56:00.001-04:002013-07-24T18:56:29.612-04:00My Work On My WebcomicComics have been a part of my life since practically the beginning. My paternal grandmother provided me with Uncle Scrooge books in my early years, and my uncle took me to my first comic book shop, which was in West Palm Beach, FL. I grew up learning the concepts behind the "Funny books," their inner workings, and the various types of stories you could tell through the medium.<br />
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For years I've wanted to create my own comics. I taught myself to draw when I was a child and have spent many years doodling in the depths of my own, technically weak style. It's been fun, regardless of the quality of what I've produced. Considering the joy and experiences I've had drawing throughout my years and ignoring the pangs of self doubt, I decided to launch into my own comic-making venture in the Winter of 2011 with a comic zine. I prepared it for a local toy and comic expo and assembled it within a week's time. The book didn't do well, but it was a terrific and humbling learning experience.<br />
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Shortly after, while considering the contents of another zine, my wife suggested that I attempt to work on a webcomic. The benefits of such a venture would be that I might gain the discipline of creating a comic work on a regular basis and so that I might attract a readership. It took some time for me to appreciate and plan this move into an area of comics with which I was mostly unfamiliar, but in May of this year I jumped in full force.<br />
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Since then I've been releasing a weekly webcomic titled "<a href="http://saves-the-day-comic.blogspot.com/">Saves the Day</a>." It's the product of my overactive imagination and a brief bit of inspiration I received after driving past a Day Labor Office one afternoon. Thus far it's attracted the attention of familiar folks from comic message boards and various friends from past jobs and school. The important thing is that it's entertaining someone and teaching me some priceless lessons.<br />
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What's the point of writing about all of this? Well, I needed a place in which to organize my thoughts and detail my future plans as they pertain to the comic medium. In the next two-to-three years I would like to move "Saves the Day" to its own website and develop it into a widely known brand. I would also like to make attempts at publishing several comic scripts I've developed over the years. I'm hoping that in time, after paying my dues and humbly learning lessons, that I'll be able to write comics professionally while maintaining some form of webcomic presence.<br />
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Sometimes one needs to spell out the details of their dreams for the sake of attaining clarity as they move forward down their chosen path. I think that's the case with this post. Wish me luck!Jonathan Samplehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10387538248245744866noreply@blogger.com0