This has become something of a tradition. BioWare’s games tend to eat up a lot of my time, and the habit has become to dash out a post as I push myself towards the usually somewhat disappointing ending. I’m doing my best to keep my fingers in my ears to drown out all of the entitled whining, bitching, and moaning going on regarding Mass Effect 3, so before I reach the conclusion of an overall fascinating sci-fi trilogy, let me break up the crusty surface of cynicism that is current gaming-related writing and talk about something sweet.
Or rather, someone.
Back when I first played the original Mass Effect, I thought all of the characters had something going for them. Even if Ashley Williams was a horrible racist, she was interesting. Saren, despite being the villain, did what all good villains did and had nuances to explore and motivations that, while extreme and ultimately very wrong, one could understand from a certain point of view. But as much as I loved sniping with Garrus or headbutting with Wrex, over the appeal of a blue-skinned bisexual bookworm, I was taken by Tali’Zorah nar Rayya.
From the very start, Tali showed she was fully capable of taking care of herself in a galaxy poised to swallow up a young woman out on her own for the first time. Very smart, unflinching in combat, and with a wicked tongue adept at snark, Tali’s experience with machinery made her an invaluable asset in the fight against Saren and the geth. Indeed, her experiences not only helped her complete the Pilgrimage her people all took on the cusp of adulthood, but also allowed her to return to the Migrant Fleet with more information and confidence than she could have imagined at the start of it all.
My primary Shepard is male and is trained as an Infiltrator. This unfortunately meant that he and Tali shared some redundant skills, so the adventures they shared on that first outing were not as numerous as they would have been otherwise. I took the time to talk with her as much as I could on board the Normandy, at least, but there was no option to really get to know her better, not like there was with Liara or Ashley. And considering I wasn’t about to let Kaiden die if I could help it, that limited the infamous romance options to Mass Effect to exactly one.
And then BioWare announced the option to romance Tali would be in the sequel, Mass Effect 2.
Sing, choirs of angels.
Considering this was long before Lair of the Shadow Broker, it seemed that Liara would remain a distant figure throughout the second game. I was okay with this for two reasons. One, it added a lot of much-needed depth to her character and made a great deal of sense given her brilliant mind. The other one, of course, was that I could look into Tali’s feeling without feeling a great deal of guilt. That was my rationale for that play-through, at least, and it was worth it to hear Tali stammering a little when the subject came up. Seeing Tali grow between games into a full-fledged adult Quarian with responsibility and leadership skills was heartening. Tali’Zorah vas Neema (and, later, vas Normandy) continued to show exemplary skill in Mass Effect 2, and provided an emotionally charged loyalty mission that is still very much worth doing even if you’re not pursuing her romantically.
I know there are some out there who consider romancing Tali a somewhat creepy option. It’s possible to see her as just another video game damsel in distress, a fulfillment of some sort of juvenile male power fantasy involving a young and ineffectual girl unable to survive without the strong hand of a man behind her. When I look at Tali, though, I don’t get that. Setting personal bias aside, her first encounter on the Citadel has her brushing off unwanted attentions, easily evading capture through clever deception and explosives use, and immediate participation in the ensuing firefight. She can handle herself. She doesn’t need a man in her life. And being attracted to that capability, that bravery, and those smarts is creepy? Seriously, I do not get “cool” cynical hate-filled gamers sometimes. Making decisions in Mass Effect 2 specifically so she has no option but to stay with you, though, that is creepy, and a little sad.
Anyway, after a Hardcore play-through as a female Vanguard, I resurrected my Infiltrator to play through both games on Insanity. Revisiting the first game was fun, and also afforded me with an opportunity to make a few decisions differently, including deflecting advances from both female characters. Basically, I held out for Tali. And considering how things have turned out so far, now that I’ve completed events on the planet Rannoch in Mass Effect 3, I can tell you it was definitely worth it.
Games need more characters like Tali. Her presence is strong, a good mix of smarts and combat capability, with occasional touches of femininity and deep emotion that make her far more interesting than most obligatory video game love interests. To me, at least, she’s one of the best things about the Mass Effect trilogy in general, and this final game in particular. So far, at least. We’ll see how that bears out at the end.
If you’re into Warhammer 40,000 I heartily recommend the blog For Holy Terra. They recently had a cool little “Reverse Painting Contest,” and I thought I’d share my entry with you, since this week has been extremely busy and I have nothing else prepared.
++++++++++ CLASSIFIED INFORMATION FOLLOWS – EYES ONLY – PUNISHABLE BY DEATH ++++++++++
We were unprepared for the sheer amount of civilians turned by this cult. You have to understand, most of the men under General Corvinus’ command were career Guardsmen who’d chosen to settle on Serevar, raising families and establishing homes. To see those homes burned and familes and friends turned to mindless, screaming followers of some blaspehmous god was too much for some to bear.
Even the sight of the Chaos forces arriving through tears in the Warp didn’t shake some of them from their catatonic states. The laspistols of the Commissars were working overtime. I was worried that so many summary executions would leave us without adequate forces to defend ourselves. The cultists had taken out our orbital links. Help would not arrive in time. It looked more and more like my Kasrkin and myself would be the last line of defense between those stalwart enough to hold to their faith and the seething, stripping, screaming tide of human flesh craving their blood.
We’d taken our positions. Thoroughfare barriers made for poor fortifications against the traitors and their archaic plasma weapons and artillery, but it was all we had. We told people to stay in their homes. We checked and re-checked our hellguns. We listened as the command post was overrun, General Corvinus falling back to behind our line. And I lead my men in prayer.
When I heard the bike engines, I feared the worst.
I couldn’t see them, at first, but I could hear them. When I did catch a glimpse, it took precious seconds to register what I’d seen. It wasn’t the garish colors and deadly spikes of the enemy armor. It was gray, like slate or cold steel, blending into the ferracrete of the buildings. Other figures took positions on top of the buildings behind us. I heard the phut-phut-phut of sniper rifle fire, and former friends and family began dropping, perfect holes in their faces, trampled underfoot by the meaty shields pushed by the traitorous warriors.
The sight gave my men hope. We opened fire with our hellguns. We burned body after body as they hurtled towards us. I couldn’t count on our weapons being as effective on the ancient but powerful armor once worn by the Emperor’s finest warriors, but what choice did we have? Kasrkin don’t back down. Even when the traitors broke rank and charged us, raising vicious chainswords and opening fire with their bolters, we stood fast. We began to fall but we returned fire. I prayed I would live long enough to take at least a few of the blasphemous monsters with me.
And then the drop pods began to fall.
The one that landed directly behind us shook the ground, forcing us to our knees. By the time we recovered, between each one of us left standing was a Space Marine with a heavy weapon. In the field, the pods split open and gleaming warriors in the same grey armor I’d seen poured into the fray. One was sheathed in blue, the mark of the psykers they call Librarians. Was he the reason they’d arrived when they did? Had the path of the Chaos forces through the Warp gained their attention? Whatever the cause, the Space Marines destroyed the traitors and their heretic followers in short order.
General Corvinus came out to greet his saviors. I was too tired to protest. The Librarian met him, then stepped aside for an even taller warrior. He carried his helmet under one arm, his right hand resting on the bolt pistol holstered at his side. I heard Corvinus greet him as “High Commander”. They traded a few words before the High Commander drew his sidearm and shot General Corvinus in the head. The Space Marine then turned his attention to me.
“You will lead these men.”
With that, he and his battle-brothers left the field. My promotion was waiting for me when we returned to the garrison. We later learned Corvinus was engaged in heresey and Chaos worship himself, at least according to Inquisitorial sources. The agents who informed me of this also disclosed the Inquisitor who employs them is upset that the Space Marines arrived here before they could. That is, however, their opinion even if it is only one I share.
Repairs on the planet’s surface continue and members of the Ecclesiarchy minister to the survivors. All is well, for now.
++++ THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: Educate men without faith and you but make them clever devils. ++++
History:
The Imperial Wraiths were mustered out of the Imperial Fists during the Second Founding. The goal was for the Force Commander at the time, Titus Obscurus, to take initiates showing promise in infiltration and develop those skills along with standard combat training to carry out covert operations against the enemies of the Imperium. The Imperial Wraiths were ceded the second moon of Xellious VII in the Hawking Sector, with other planets in the sector serving as recruitment worlds.
However, not long after the chapter was established, tragedy struck. An excavation on Xellious IV unveiled an ancient artefact of unspeakable power. Before the Inquisition could intercede, the artefact was activated and Chaos energies swept over the planet. Aspects of every unclean god overthrew the minds and bodies of the population, and traitorous legions spewed forth from the Warp. Within a fortnight, the entire sector was in turmoil and the fortress-monestary on the second moon of the seventh planet was scoured by the fires of Tzeench.
After pitched combat with these forces, the Imperium managed to reclaim the sector. It seemed, however, that the Imperial Wraiths had been lost. Decades passed before evidence to the contrary emerged. On the other side of the Imperium, before any other Space Marines could respond to a planetary distress call, a massive cathedral-dreadnought dating back to the Horus Heresy emerged from the Warp. Drop pods in shades of grey rained from the sky, producing Space Marines with grim determination and heavy weaponry. They bore iconography that was a pale reflection of their previous symbols and called themselves the Tenebrous Wraiths.
Rumors are that it was one of the Wraith’s own Librarians who oversaw the excavation of the artefact that nearly destroyed the chapter and they have chosen to remain apart from their battle brothers out of shame. An even more insidious contention is that they are in the throes of a Chaos god, a tool of deception to lull mankind into a false sense of security. While no injunction has been issued forbidding them from approaching Holy Terra as yet, the Dies Irae Veniendum Est invokes as much dread as it does relief when it appears in orbit around a world. Their unpredictable movements, taciturn behavior and nihilistic prayers make others uneasy, but in combat they are every bit as implacable and righteous as their more boisterous battle brothers.
Organization:
In an attempt to allay some fears amongst the Inquisition, High Commander Brutus Obscurus submitted a general report on chapter strength to the Ordo Hereticus. His first contention was that at no time has the chapter deviated from the Codex Astartes, despite tumultuous periods in which the chapter astropaths struggled to navigate their massive home successfully through the Warp. He claimed the cathedral-dreadnought is home to four battle companies, each consisting of three tactical squads, three devastator squads and two assault squads, as well as a dedicated recruit company and a command company of five librarians, six chaplains, four squads of veteran space marines. The report contains a total mustered strength of just under four hundred battle brothers.
The only individuals permitted to ascend to the Dies Irae Veniendum Est are recruits. Dignitaries, regional commanders and other Space Marines are always met elsewhere. This makes it difficult to gauge the exact nature and capabilities of this vessel, which is slightly larger than a battle barge but appears to carry fewer weapons. The Chapter does not maintain any other battle barges, only a handful of strike cruisers to escort their final bastion. Manufactorium parts and raw materials are either acquired in the field of battle or ‘requisitioned’ from planetary governments. Still, the Techmarines of the Tenebrous Wraiths appear to be up to date on current pattens of Imperial wargear, and no Space Marine of the chapter bears any appearance of Chaos influence.
Recently the Tenebrous Wraiths acquired the means to produce Terminator armour from the forges aboard the cathedral-dreadnought, but the Techpriests of Mars insist that such manufacture is time-consuming and costly in raw materials. Nevertheless, the chapter’s armored strength remains diminished, with only six Land Raider variants, eight Predators and two Vindicators. They have no Whirlwinds or Land Speeders to speak of. They do, however, have a great number of Rhinos, Razorbacks and bikes, and it appears that the Dies Irae Veniendum Est was retrofitted in such a way that most of its planetary bombardment capabilities have been replaced with increased Drop Pod capacity.
Heraldry:
The cloaked spectre of the Imperial Wraiths is gone, replaced with the stark skull-and-scythe iconongraphy the chapter now bears.
Previously, the colors of the chapter were white with yellow trim, in honor of Dorn’s Imperial Fists. After their disgrace and absence, they opted for a gray pallate with brass trim that harkens back to the glory days before the Horus Heresey. The left pauldron always bears the icon of the chapter, while the right is colored to match one’s squad: white for scout, green for tactical, orange for devastator, red for assault and silver for veterans.
Tactics:
The Wraiths often dispatch a Thunderhawk with scouts on bikes before making their main assault. These scouts report on enemy positions and strength. Once the field is mapped, drop pods rain from the sky. Against entrenched enemies, armored units may be dispatched, but in those cases the task of the armor is to breach the enemy defenses to allow rapid transports to surge into the enemy and dispense death by bolter and chainsword.
++++ THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: It is better to die for the Emperor than to live for yourself. ++++
“Let it be known we choose to stand in shadow.
We who have seen Man’s heroes become villains.
We who remember the best of us falling to the worst.
We who seek to cleanse our Galaxy of our weaknesses.
Let it be known we protect the light of the Empire,
and in its shadow we stand eternal and vengeful.
We are the Wraiths. We shall not forget.
From the Shadows! To OBLIVION!” – Pre-battle benediction of the Tenebrous Wraiths
{no audio this week – sorry for the inconvenience!}
Many authors have speculated that we as a species are walking a knife’s edge between transcending our previous limitations in terms of body, mind, and spirit, and falling into an inevitable downward spiral of self-destruction we’re simply too lazy to avert. It’s a resonant message and especially popular in the genre of cyberpunk, where near-future technology that pushes the envelope of human potential is often juxtaposed with the plight of have-nots struggling to keep up with the haves. Films like Blade Runner, books like Snow Crash and games like Deus Ex: Human Revolution drive these points home in stunning ways, and to that list I would add the 1988 Japanese animated feature Akira.
The year is 2019. Tokyo, having suffered major losses during a cataclysmic event in 1988, has been rebuilt as Neo-Tokyo. Violence is breaking out on its streets between rival biker gangs the Clowns and the Capsules, the latter lead by a young upstart named Kaneda. His friend, Tetsuo, nearly runs over a small child in the course of a fight, but the child turns out to be a psychic, the result of experimentation by the military in the wake of Tokyo’s destruction. Tetsuo, in turn, is discovered to possess a great deal of psychic potential himself and is taken for testing. While Kaneda hooks up with an underground dissident movement to help his friend, the military moves to stop the experiments on Tetsuo by killing the boy, lest he realize his potential which mirrors that of the child who destroyed Tokyo in the first place, the child named Akira.
Like many works of its type, Akira began life as a manga in the 1980s. Rather than hand the 2000-page magnum opus to someone else, the production team ensured that the author, Katsuhiro Otomo, wrote and directed the film adaptation. The result was something new for the art houses of anime. Notorious for cutting corners and running out of money before production was complete (look no further than Neon Genesis Evangelion as evidence of this), Akira boasted not only a robust budget but fully lip-synced dialog and animation as fluid as possible, resulting in a film that holds up in terms of both style and substance over 20 years later.
Didn’t Edna Mode say something about capes?
With golden pixels each costing the price of a meal flying around in modern productions, seeing hand-drawn animation this detailed and imaginative is incredibly refreshing. Watching Akira unfold, either for the first time or on repeated viewings, makes the skill and dedication of the artists at work obvious without them needing to impose themselves upon the work. Even when the film delves into its more symbolic and psychological elements, the crux of the film remains the narrative and the characters, allowing the theme and mood to speak for themselves rather than making them overt elements in the storytelling. I know a few auteurs who could take notes from this kind of film-making.
A large part of Akira‘s success is due to the characters being fully realized individuals, not just cyphers. Kaneda and Tetsuo clearly have a strong bond, even if the gang leader picks on the smallest member of his crew quite a bit. It’s realistic dialog that conveys a great deal of emotion and history without needing to dive into overlong exposition or diatribes on feelings. The stoic, pragmatic Colonel at the heart of the experiments that unlock Tetsuo’s powers may seem one-dimensional at first, but his relationship with the test subjects and utter contempt for government corruption quickly deepen and expand his character. Even minor roles, like the dissidents and other members of the Capsules, have a force of personality that helps Akira proceed in a very natural and straightforward manner, even towards the end when psychic powers start going incredibly haywire.
You wish your ride was this sweet.
There’s been talk of a live-action adaptation of Akira since Warner Brothers acquired the rights in 2002, with the typical rumors of casting flying around even as it waffles between in-production and shut down. Personally, I don’t know how one could pull off an effective adaptation of Akira in the United States. A big part of Akira‘s success is its haunting callback to being the victims of nuclear assault and needing to rebuild in the wake of terrible cataclysms. While there’s a lot of interest in the States in terms of cyberpunk, civil unrest, delinquent youths, and the nature of corruption and maturity, we would approach these things from an entirely different perspective and I think Akira would suffer for that. The film as it is tackles each of these themes within its running time without feeling dull or overly preachy. It presents human nature, terrifying and limitless and raw and wonderful all at once, as it is and as it could be.
Given that the film is so thoroughly Japanese, from its themes to its soundtrack to its setting and culture, I would recommend watching Akira in that language with subtitles. Many nuances of the language can get left behind even by the most skilled dub artists, and there’s also the fact the film was re-dubbed in 2001 which inevitably can lead to arguments over which version is best. Regardless of how you watch it or in what language, however, Akira is undoubtedly worth your time. It’s a superb blend of action, intrigue, and young existential angst, all conveyed with some of the finest hand-drawn animation you’ll ever see. Over two decades after its release, it still holds up. After all, where else will you find a movie that, without skipping a beat, contains magnetically-driven motorcycles, freaky child psychics, space lasers and the true meaning of friendship?
Josh Loomis can’t always make it to the local megaplex, and thus must turn to alternative forms of cinematic entertainment. There might not be overpriced soda pop & over-buttered popcorn, and it’s unclear if this week’s film came in the mail or was delivered via the dark & mysterious tubes of the Internet. Only one thing is certain… IT CAME FROM NETFLIX.
When I was growing up there were plenty of books to be had in my house. My parents owned a set of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, but that wasn’t what kept me up past my bedtime. I never read any of my mother’s paperback romance novels, either. No, for the most part I started by reading books by Paula Danzinger, the adventures of Tom Swift and the Hardy Boys, and flipping to the back of the newspaper for the latest Calvin & Hobbes. As I got a bit older, I found myself curious about a few dog-eared paperbacks my dad owned, penned by one Mickey Spillane. So I guess I really have him to thank for this writing thing I have going on. In addition to the book that got me juiced to write in the first place, The Cat Who Walks Through Walls, he introduced me to a guy by the name of Mike Hammer.
Mike Hammer, a private detective and somewhat caustic fellow, is most often described as “hard-boiled.” His rage, violence and rather selfish outlook on life and the law are far more emphasized than in the likes of Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe. His influence can be felt throughout Frank Miller’s Sin City and in modern, more esoteric detectives like John Constantine and Harry Dresden. My curiosity about this form of storytelling is probably where my fascination with pulp really began.
This interest grew when I discovered Robert E. Howard and his musclebound sword and sorcery heroes, Conan and Kull. These blood-soaked tales were quite different from others I’d experienced growing up. In addition to the sex and violence, though, was the difference in protagonists between Conan and, say, Luke Skywalker. Like Mike Hammer, Conan was not a hero that I always liked. There were times he struck me as a complete selfish jerk. Thus pulp adventures introduced me to the concept of the unlikable protagonist.
But most of all, pulp showed me how concepts and settings that might seem weird in other, more straightforward works could be pulled off with bombast and appeal. Specifically, Flash Gordon’s world of Mongo and the Mars in which John Carter finds himself are filled with exotic aliens, dangerous creatures and shockingly beautiful women; in other words, they’re fantastic places to which many would love to escape. They showed me that no world is beyond creation, that with refinement even the most screwball idea can yield something interesting to read.
Time has passed and we live in an age that tends to be a bit more cynical and straight-faced, with such flights of fancy often looked upon as juvenile or even sophomoric. The failure of pulp-flavored adventures on film like Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow and Sucker Punch haven’t helped matters. Call me sentimental, but I feel there’s still room for the pulp in which my fascination with writing is rooted today. I know I have enough on my plate as it is, but in the back of my brain there’s something going on involving rayguns and war rockets.
Then again, that could just be my daily coping mechanism.
Behold, Whovians. My USB hub involves Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. I can connect to SO many devices. Some of them aren’t even of human manufacture! Muahahaha…
…okay, it’s a silly USB hub shaped like a TARDIS. I don’t need it. But it makes my life easier and it’s really cool-looking, in my humble opinion.
The TARDIS hub is, in a way, a lot like a video game’s downloadable content, colloquially called DLC.
I’m a consumer in general, of media in particular. Be it through conditioning or simple instinctual inclination, I like little optional extras. I like having a car charger for my iPhone that also has an FM transmitter. I enjoy samples of wine before a meal. And if there’s art or music above and beyond what’s included with media I really dig, you can bet I’ll be finding ways to check it out. Heck, as I type this supplemental material to the Internet narrative comic phenomenon Homestuck is winging its way to my door. Well, not winging so much as rolling, as it’s coming USPS, but you get the idea.
But I know none of these things are necessary. My life will not be diminished if they were absent. Plenty of people get by without things like this. I’m just in a position where I can enjoy such optional extras.
DLC is a lot like that.
In recent years it’s become the practice of certain big software publishers to bundle their new releases with DLC that is only available to those who pre-order or buy new. The DLC in question usually becomes available later for an additional fee. In Dragon Age: Origins, the character of Shale was only included in the initial release of the game if it was purchased new. If you got a copy second hand, you’d be deprived of the bird-stomping golem unless you paid $15 US. This was due to a launch date developers were struggling to reach, causing them to cut Shale from the project until the date was pushed back.
Deus Ex: Human Revolution is another example. Pre-orders of the game from certain vendors featured the Explosive Mission Pack. This includes a bonus mission involving an important character that has appeared throughout the Deus Ex storyline in both previous games. The reward for completing it is an interesting bit of continuity and a wickedly powerful weapon. If you didn’t pre-order the game, you can download the pack (as I did) for $3 US. It’s cool to have for story buffs and the like, but it’s no more necessary to that game than Shale is to Dragon Age: Origins. Don’t get me wrong, I love Shale; I just acknowledge that she isn’t an essential part of that game.
The reason I’ve decided to bring this up is the imminent Reaper invasion contained in discs and downloads around the world. Mass Effect 3 is coming, and some goofball on the Internet leaked its Day One DLC. Called “From Ashes”, it is included only with Collector’s Editions of the game and has a few neat points, which are outlined here. The biggest one is an additional character, a member of the Prothean race that has been part of the Mass Effect universe from the very beginning. From what I understand, this character is like Shale in that his content and very presence is entirely optional, and if you weren’t fortunate enough to pre-order a collector’s edition of the game, you can buy the DLC separately for $10 US. BioWare contends that the game is complete and “huge” even without this DLC.
Nonetheless, there is a LOT of uproar over this. Folks threatening boycott and saying that it’s EA’s marketing doing stuff like this that’s killing the industry and exploiting the consumer. I can see where they’re coming from. I don’t like the mentality of big business publishers when it comes to things like this, and as much as a lot of the backlash to “From Ashes” sounds like a bunch of entitled whining, this sort of behavior is a major shift from their previous Mass Effect title, which included a character and other enhancements as Day One DLC for free as long as you bought the game new.
This doesn’t change the fact that DLC is optional. Provided BioWare is honest about the completeness of the game without “From Ashes”, it seems to me that this Prothean character and the module’s other content falls under “nice to have” instead of “must have”. I’ve considered not buying the game myself as I don’t want to support toxic policies like this, but on the other hand I’ve been wanting to see for myself if BioWare can come back from its recent failures. If Mass Effect 3 turns out to be as lackluster as Star Wars: The Old Republic or as aimless and repetitive as Dragon Age 2, it’ll be the last time I buy anything from the company, unless it’s a copy of an older game I no longer have a disc for like Baldur’s Gate or something.
After giving it some thought, I’ll still be buying Mass Effect 3 but I will not be picking up “From Ashes” initially. Maybe if the game delivers on all of its promises and makes me forget all about BioWare’s unfortunate EA entanglements I’ll come back to it. But this really is like all other DLC and optional extras for consumers in general. Nobody’s entitled to it. It’s never guaranteed and while it’s nice to have, we can live perfectly fine without it. It is, at the end of the day, decidedly lavish crap.