A Spider-Man Christmas.

And now, in a celebration of the spirit of the holidays, we take you to the Spider-Man Christmas Spectacular, and one Peter Parker, enjoying himself at Ben Grimm's annual Hanukkah party at the Fantastic Four's home in the Baxter Building.  

However, Peter's seasonal celebration is interrupted by a call from his Aunt May, who has booked a Christmas cruise, leaving Spider-Man on his own for the holiday season.  (This is sadly on brand, Peter is one of those people who would have no luck at all if it weren't for bad luck.)  

Peter, always gracious, tells May to have a great time and reassures her that he will be fine over the holidays on his own, but immediately tells the attentive Thing that he's leaving early, returning to his empty apartment and looking regretfully at a gift tagged May underneath his lonely Christmas tree.  With a sigh, he goes to bed.

The next morning, he's awakened by a phone call - it's an invitation to a Christmas party at the Impossible City, the Avengers' orbital headquarters, where he is swamped with holiday invitations as he mingles with the guests: Iron Man invites him to go skiing, the Vision suggests that he could spend the holiday break with him, Wanda, their son and his boyfriend, Thor wants him to come to Asgard for the Holy Day*, Hellcat is having a rager, Doctor Strange encourages him to come to the Dream Dimension, and so on. Overwhelmed with invitations, he thanks everyone and makes his exit.

Christmas Eve finds him on a Hell's Kitchen rooftop with Daredevil, preparing to sneak into an refugee center with a bag of gifts for homeless children. 

At this point, Peter has become a bit suspicious of all the attention, and ask Daredevil if he's one of his charity cases, to which Daredevil replies that maybe he's the one who didn't want to be alone on Christmas Eve, and that Spider-Man is the one being merciful.

Surprisingly, Christmas Day starts with Peter arriving at the New Orleans airport.  He's greeted by Wolverine, who drives them to a house in the bayou, where the X-Men are celebrating Christmas together.  They're welcomed by Rogue and Nightcrawler, and when Peter thanks Rogue for the invitation, she says that "...when Logan told us you were going to be all alone on Christmas, you know we couldn't have that." Peter turns to Logan and begins to ask "How did...?" but Logan dodges the question.

Gumbo is eaten, ugly sweaters are judged, gifts are exchanged, pie is eaten, and then the group moves outside for a game of baseball.  Isolated in the outfield, Peter finally pins Logan down as to how he knew that Peter was on his own.

As Peter talks to Logan, one of the younger X-Men interrupts with Peter's ringing cell phone.  It's Aunt May - her cruise has been cancelled due to mechanical problems, and she's back in New York.  Peter immediately drops everything, and begs for someone to fly, teleport or throw him back to Manhattan.

As it turns out, Gambit has a friend with a plane who owes him a favour, and Peter is able to spend the rest of Christmas Day with Aunt May, and then the New Year on her rescheduled cruise a week later. 

It's a charming little story, without a punch being thrown, and it points out the degree to which the superhero community is exactly that - a community, in which there are friendships and feuds, where people date, hang out, spend holidays together**, and which rallies together when one of their own is in need of a little seasonal love and support. 

As should we all.  Merry Christmas, everyone! The very best of the season to all, and to all, a good night.

- Sid

* One feels that there should be some kind of religious conflict of interest here, but Thor simply says that he doesn't pass up any noble holidays, and it's left at that.***  

** I assume that Hollywood works in a similar fashion. 

*** As it turns out, Jesus has a canonical existence in the Marvel Comics Universe - which makes sense, given that the Ghost Rider's origin story is that he made a deal with the Devil, and there's a character named Daimon Hellstrom who is the son of Satan.  Logically, if you include Hell and Satan in your worldview, then Heaven and God must also be part of the picture.

IYKYK.

 
Art by Cliff Chiang

The Red Knight returns.

- Sid

With apologies to James Cameron.

Hello, Mr. Cameron. I hope you don’t mind if I call you James?

Congratulations, it looks like Avatar: Fire and Ash is off to a good start, that’s a nice little Christmas gift - first weekend pulled in $88M USD in the US, and $345M globally. Admittedly, that's against a $400M budget, so a few more people need to head out to the theatres over the holiday before there's a profit, but it's still pretty good.  The film builds on the look of epic grandeur that the first two installments have taught us to expect, and also brings some new perspectives of Pandora to the screen.

All that being said - James, I’m very sorry, but I probably won’t be seeing it.

Again, it looks spectacular, but I don’t know if that’s enough for me these days. I’m enjoying Pluribus right now, but even with things like mocking up Air Force One* and the occasional grenade explosion, I suspect their special effects budget is lower than the bill for their crafts services.  

Which is significant, because it demonstrates that it’s possible to tell a thoughtful and intriguing science fiction story without spending $400M on world building or a 3D IMAX screen.  In saying that, I feel I’m doing Avatar and Pandora an injustice: there's no denying that it's an astonishing feat of creativity, but after seeing the trailer, I somehow felt that it had told me everything I needed to know about the latest entry in the franchise without having to invest three hours and $22 for all the details.

So, once again, my apologies. As a long time science fiction fan, I do feel a bit guilty that I’m not representing, but I honestly don’t think that my minor defection will stop Fire and Ash from being a success.

However, it’s not over ‘til it’s over.  I wasn’t going to see James Gunn’s Superman** movie and that ended up happening after all, so there’s still a chance - I’ll keep you posted.

All the best for the holidays, 
- Sid 

* I assume that wasn’t the actual Air Force One, but who knows, it’s not difficult to imagine that the current administration would be happy to make a buck by renting it out.

** It’s interesting that DC has done so many reboots of both Superman and Batman without being able to hit the groove that the MCU seemed to find so effortlessly, hopefully Mr. Gunn will be able to establish a firm foundation for the new DCU.

Pluribus: 48.729%.

When I was watching the first episode of Pluribus, the new science fiction series from Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan, my first reaction was, "This feels familiar." 

I realize that this might not be everyone's reaction, but I've been a science fiction fan for my entire life, and as such I have a substantial database of references to draw upon for things like this.  There's a bit of Michael Crichton's The Andromeda Strain to it; a lot of Robert A. Heinlein's 1951 novel The Puppet Masters*; and a hint of Darwin's Radio, by Greg Bear.  It's not really The Invasion of the Body Snatchers or The Thing (From Outer Space), although they're both close cousins, there's maybe just a dab of Blood Music in there someplace, also a Greg Bear novel (based on a short story), and, when you think about it, a suggestion of I Am Legend, Richard Matheson’s three-time movie adapted novel, but with more smiling.

But none of those were the first thing that crossed my mind.  That honour goes to My Little Golden Book About Zogg, an obscure parody by cartoonist Jason Yungbluth, who chose the same method of transmitting the viral code as in Pluribus: encoding it into an interstellar message carried by a modulating wave carrier.

And, as in the page above, you do have to wonder how much of the known Universe has decoded a mysterious message from the stars...

- Sid

* The Puppet Masters details exactly the same kind of extraterrestrial takeover and amalgamation, except the aliens are macroscopic rather than microscopic, about the size and shape of a starfish.

"Jack and Jill went down the hill."

Another October, another Night.

- Sid

775,454 Days Later.

Full points to Vancouver's Trinity Baptist Church for celebrating Hallowe'en by posting a bible verse* that sounds like the elevator pitch for a zombie horror movie.

- Sid

* And it's canon:  

Colossians 1:18 
And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. 

By any other name.

I've been casually re-reading Robert E. Howard's Conan the Barbarian stories - the originals from the 1930s, rather than the 1960s Lancer/Ace pastiches or the later efforts by other authors* -  and I'm currently finishing off The Hour of the Dragon, Howard's only full novel-length tale of the grim Cimmerian warrior's adventures.  Howard has a deft hand as an author: he's no Tolkien, but his style is well suited to his chosen material.  However, even the best writers occasionally slip up, and Howard is no exception.

In The Hour of the Dragon, Conan has managed to achieve the throne of Aquilonia, one of the newer nations in Howard's Hyborian Age. However, his enemies have summoned up Xaltotun, a centuries-dead wizard, to aid them in invading Aquilonia, and they succeed in defeating Conan and his army through black sorcery.  Conan is taken prisoner but manages to escape, and then seeks to find the Heart of Ahriman, a magical jewel which can be used to send Xaltotun back to the grave and allow Conan to regain his throne.  

Howard writes the following descriptions of Conan's armour, specifically his helmet, over the course of his search for the gem:

Conan rode a great black stallion, the gift of Trocero. He no longer wore the armor of Aquilonia. His harness proclaimed him a veteran of the Free Companies, who were of all races. His head piece was a plain morion, dented and battered. 

He heard a rush of feet, a bellow of oxlike agony. He was stunned but not wholly senseless, and realized that Beloso had caught up the iron box and crashed it down on his head as he stooped. Only his basinet had saved his skull.

Conan reeled out of the chamber, sword in hand, blood streaming down his face from under his burganet. 

Whereas I appreciate Howard's desire to avoid repeating himself in his description of Conan's headgear, in this case he's actually gotten things completely mixed up in the process.  The history of arms is a catalogue of description:  the Roman lorica is distinct in its characteristics as opposed to Viking lamellar armour, and the evolution from 15th century full Gothic plate to 16th century Maximillian armour is quite clear.**  

In this case, Conan begins his trip wearing a morion, a high-combed brimmed helmet from the 16th century, generally associated with Spanish conquistadors.

 However, Howard then refers to Conan's helm as a basinet, which is a medieval open-faced helmet with a conical peak, generally worn with a chain mail aventail or scarf, and often equipped with a visor.  

Conan then staggers out of the chamber in a burganet, a full-headed, high-peaked Renaissance helmet with a brim, and neck and cheek guards.  

Admittedly, it's not like Howard could sit down at his keyboard and Google variations in armour, but it's still a surprising run of contradictory nomenclature - and a slightly ironic one, considering that generally illustrators have decided to equip Conan with some kind of non-functional fantasy helm with little horns on it.  

- Sid

* Even some of the versions of the Conan stories that claim to be "original" suffer from minor changes in the hands of well-meaning editors.  I suppose I could track down the individual stories through The Pulp Project, which has scans of early pulp magazines such as Weird Tales that published many of Howard's stories, but it feels like a lot of work.

** This is all drawn from my OTHER hobby, military history.  As with my science fiction/fantasy/gaming/comics/movies fandom, I haven't focused on a specific area, but have a general historical interest in the field.

Breaking the mould.

In addition to finding a Captain Canuck comic book that was a long way from home while shopping in Cardiff, I also spotted a bit of a curiousity, which, really, is what I most love to find in a used book store.

In this case, it was The Other Sky, a hard cover collection of Keith Laumer stories published by Dobson Science Fiction*, an imprint that was completely new to me - and I have a LOT of books.  

Keith Laumer is a bit of a favourite author of mine, and that, coupled with the unknown provenance of the book's publisher, made it an easy purchasing decision at the modest price of ten pounds sterling - along with a pound and a half for the comic book.

However, the book had more than its share of the distinctive smell of old paper, with a touch of mould in the mix.  As such, I bagged it up tightly for the remaining few days of our trip and kept it out of my luggage for as long as possible.

Once home, I did some research on the topic of old book smell, and the internet advised that I seal up the book with the contents of a box of baking soda in an airtight container for a few days. I was a bit amused to find out that the easy solution was apparently the same as dealing with refrigerator odour, and added baking soda to the shopping list. 

Once equipped wth baking soda, I emptied out an appropriately sized plastic bin, dumped in the contents of the box, and put in a couple of vintage 35mm plastic film canisters as supports. 

I added the innovation of a few toothpicks to spread some of the pages out and provide more surface area for the process, and sealed up the box. 

I removed the lid three days later, and a cautious sniff revealed that there was still some lingering mustiness, but that it was overall much reduced.  I put the lid back on and gave it a full week of adeodorizing, and the result is an almost odourless book - voilà, the system works, as I like to say. 

- Sid

* As it turns out, Dobson Books was essentially a one-man publishing imprint run by one Dennis Dobson from 1944 until his death in 1978.  Based in London and described as "a small but very literary and somewhat idiosyncratic firm", Dobson published a wide range of science fiction in addition to its other offerings.  To my mild amusement, the Wikipedia listing for Dobson concludes with:

After his death the publishing company was wound down and his widow bought and restored Brancepeth Castle.

I love the implication that she was just waiting for Dennis to get out of the way so that she could ditch all of this publishing nonsense and follow her passion by buying a fixer-up fortification. 

Ack ack.

 

Spotted in Kerrisdale after a ramen run - I don't know what one of these would cost, but it would certainly be a damn good start on a Martian Hallowe'en costume.

- Sid

 

 

A moment of retrospection.

Today marks the six month anniversary of my retirement.  Was it the right time to pull the plug, as they say?

Well, let's put it this way. You know you're burned out when you actually start thinking, "You know, if there was an apocalypse, it would be bad, sure, but at least I wouldn't have to go to work..."

- Sid 

 

"Mama, I'm comin' home."

For my birthday this year, we decided to use the Air Canada gift certificate generously provided by my employers as a retirement gift, and pay a quick visit to the United Kingdom.  My lovely wife Karli has some Welsh in her ancestry, and as such when I suggested that we spend a few days in Cardiff as part of our trip, she was excited to have an opportunity to see a bit of her family's origins.

After a few days in London, where I picked up an autographed Joe Abercrombie hardcover and a Star Trek t-shirt at the flagship Forbidden Planet megastore on Shaftesbury Avenue*, we hopped on the train and headed off to Cardiff.

After dropping off our luggage at our hotel**, we headed out to explore, and were instantly charmed by Cardiff.  

One of the old city's noteworthy features are the seven covered arcades, home to retail outlets, dining spots, bars, coffee shops, and various other commercial locations, making for an entertaining stroll sheltered from the fall Welsh rain that we were experiencing.  As I generally do when visiting a new city, I had done a search for used book stores, and found that there was a small book shop, Troutmark Books, located in one of the arcades near the castle - Castle Arcade, in fact.   

After visiting the castle, we crossed the street, entered the arcade, and eventually made a stop at the store.  As I was browsing their science fiction and fantasy section, Karli nudged me and pointed at the used comic bins behind me, where I saw THE ISSUE OF CAPTAIN CANUCK WITH THE COVER ART FROM THE T-SHIRT THAT I RECEIVED FOR MY BIRTHDAY.

Of course, I bought it - of course I bought it!  I can only wonder at the path that this comic book had travelled to get from Canada to a used bookstore bin in Wales, but I was not going to deny it a chance at repatriation - I'd like to think someone would do the same for me under similar circumstances. 

- Sid

* Just for the record, we also saw Hamilton and MJ: The Musical, and I bought a Yellow Submarine t-shirt at the Beatles Store on Baker Street - man (or woman) does not live by bread alone, as they say.

** An unsolicited recommendation: the Cardiff Marriott hotel is excellent.  It's conveniently located close to the city centre, Cardiff Castle, and the railway station, the staff were extremely friendly and helpful, and they were kind enough to reduce our bill when we mentioned that there was a bit of a problem with the HVAC in our room.

"Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?"

Thanks to Paul McCartney, turning 64 has become almost as much of a milestone as 65, at least for those of us who remember the Beatles.  

In recognition of my birthday this year, I was amused to receive a superhero-themed JibJab™ video from my inlaws, Faye and Steve, and my lovely wife Karli presented me with a replacement for my battered Kennedy Space Center NASA baseball hat, and a Captain Canuck t-shirt, both welcome additions to my wardrobe.  

I haven't actually been at home for a birthday for several years, but this year the timing worked out for a trip departure the day after - we leave for a whirlwind six day visit to the United Kingdom tomorrow afternoon, starting in London and then off to Cardiff for a couple of days. 

It's not a specifically geek-oriented trip, although our London stay will undoubtedly include the usual shopping trip to the Forbidden Planet megastore.  Sadly, in spite of BBC Cardiff being the home for production of Doctor Who since its 2005 revival, the Cardiff Doctor Who Experience has been closed since 2017, and the show is not currently in production.  Oh well, perhaps there will be a chance to at least visit the shrine to Torchwood's Ianto Jones, as previously documented in a guest posting by my friend Chris - we'll see how things go!

- Sid  

"Gently used."

This month's West Coast Speculative Fiction Association newsletter arrived in my In box early in the morning of September 2nd, and mixed in with the other event announcements was a promo for the annual four-day Friends of the Vancouver Public Library Gently Used Book Sale, running from September the 4th to the 7th. 

One of the advantages of retirement is having the free time to attend things like this on a weekday, so on the morning of the 4th I geared up, selected a suitably sturdy shopping bag, and headed downtown to the Central Vancouver Library to see what was for sale.

When I arrived just five minutes after the start time of the sale, I initially thought that for some reason there had been an unexpected delay. There was a line that stretched up the stairs from the lower level sale location, proceeded down the length of the main library, and looped back around the atrium.  I joined the line, expecting a brief wait while they solved whatever the issue was. 

Eventually I deduced that the sale room must have reached capacity the second that the doors opened, and that the line was being fed into the room piecemeal as the initial wave of shoppers finished up and left.  The line edged forward in ten or fifteen foot increments, and after about a 30 minute wait, I was ushered into the sale room. 

Once inside, I felt a bit of pressure to do my shopping and clear the way for someone else in line.  The selection was impressive - there were an estimated 50,000 books in the sale - and as such, it was easy to find some interesting options.  That being said, I wish that I'd felt that I had more freedom to browse, I suspect that I missed some good opportunities in the two-for-a-dollar paperback tables.

Regardless, it was certainly a shopper's paradise. When I reached the point that my stack of selections was becoming difficult to balance, I decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and called it, as they say.  The checkout system was interesting, in that one pair of volunteers was doing nothing but calculating the cost of books, and another set was just taking payments.  I settled my bill, bagged my books, and made my way out the door and past the still impressive waiting line.

The results?  Five hardcovers, four trade paperbacks, and five mass market paperbacks: total cost, $26, which seems incredibly reasonable for a bag of books whose weight made a bit uncomfortable to carry one-handed.   It was a good mix of new and old texts, although as it turned out I already had a copy of Neal Asher's The Voyage of the Sable Keech*, this is what happens when you rush through things - although, with two dollar pricing on trade paperbacks, it was hardly the end of the world. 

I'd never heard of Mur Lafferty** until Worldcon, another bonus for attending; I was pleased to pick up a 1969 copy of Poul Anderson's Beyond the Beyond for three dollars; I really should read the first two books in The Locked Tomb series before I pick up Nona the Ninth; and I was surprised to find out that Terry Carr's Universe short story collections were printed in hardcover, I somehow thought they were only available in paperback. The only real departure in my selections was the Black Spire/Galaxy's Edge novel - I don't normally buy Star Wars Expanded Universe/Legends novels, but how could I not buy a book that takes place in my favourite part of Disneyland?

TLDR: if you're a reader and like to own your books; if you're looking for affordable book options, if you're looking for something a little bit older or from the classics, or any combination of those three options, I strongly recommend that you keep an eye out for the next Friends of the Vancouver Public Library Gently Used Book Sale. 

- Sid

* I passed over a copy of Asher's The Skinner because I thought I owned it, and chose The Sable Keech and Polity Agent instead.  As it turned out, I was at least correct about already having The Skinner and not owning Polity Agent, so at least I'm two for three.

** Apparently not related to the late R. A. Lafferty, master of the science fiction short story.