"Láthspell I name you, Ill-News!"

A couple of weeks ago, my friend Chris e-mailed me a link to an article in the Vancouver Courier about The Storm Crow, a newly opened fantasy/science fiction and gaming themed bar over on Commercial Drive. (For those of you unfamiliar with the derivation*, Stormcrow is one of the names by which Gandalf is known in The Lord of the Rings.)

I've always felt that there was room in the marketplace for a bar that would show the third Star Wars movie instead of the fourth game of the Stanley Cup playoffs, but to be honest, details in my mental picture have been fuzzy (outside of a few unfortunately juvenile ideas regarding costumes for the waitresses).  As such, I was interested in seeing what an actual implementation of the concept would look like.

Apparently the new spot has been a hit, to the point where I've read a few online comments on their difficulties dealing with the crowds. I'm off work this week, and I thought that I would take advantage of the opportunity to go over to the Drive early enough in the afternoon to avoid the rush and scope the place out in relative peace and quiet over a contemplative pint.

So this afternoon at about three, after putting on my London Doctor Who Experience 2011 souvenir t-shirt (hey, if you're going to a gang bar, you got to wear your colours) I was out the door and onto the Number 22 bus.

Fifty-five minutes later, as I was making my way up the last bit of a hill to Commercial, I thought to myself that generally I wouldn't patronize a bar that required a two hour round trip.  SF and fantasy motif or not, it's a big city, there's lots of bars.  However, I had high hopes that it might prove worth it now and then just for the ambience - and, you know, the opportunity to hang with my peeps.

I rounded the corner onto Commercial Drive, there was the sign for the bar, I started to unlimber my Nikon for a picture, and what do you know - CLOSED TODAY FOR STAFF FUNCTION.  So I took three shots of the frontage, a closeup of their sign, and trotted back to the bus stop.

A little investigation revealed that there had been a Tweet announcing their closure at about 2:30, and the fine print on their Facebook™ page also said that they were closed until tomorrow.  Sadly, I didn't decide to follow them on Twitter™ or friend them on Facebook™, I just went to their web site for the address - which, by the way, did not mention any sort of closure in their Events calendar for September 24th.

I realize that these things happen, and that no lives were lost as a result of this. I'll make another attempt to visit The Storm Crow later this week.  However, I would like to suggest to the management of the bar that if you're going to be closed for a full day, you should have that information EVERYWHERE - including, perhaps, your web site.

- Sid

* There are some other genre references to storm crows, but Gandalf Stormcrow is probably the best known one.

Voight-Kampff machines - your tax dollars at work!

Photo by Chris Sumner

I think I speak for everyone when I say that I'd like to see a little more transparency in the British Columbia government's handling of the Nexus Six replicant situation.

- Sid

Take Me Back to Another Time and Place.

(Contributed by Laurie Smith)

Since Sid broached the subject of time travel and made me the central character of his exposition, I felt it only fair to write a short response.

Everybody wants to be part of something meaningful and grand, and the opportunity to experience a pivotal moment in history would be a huge temptation. Time-wise, the ill-fated journey of the Titanic is a brief event. Would I want to spend four days of my life immersed* in that world? Sure. Being a witness to the Hundred Years War? Not so much.

I figured that being a first class passenger would not only provide one with the best amenities that the White Star line had to offer, but also increase the odds of survival; namely because first class women and children were ushered into the lifeboats sooner rather than later on the night of April 14, 1912. As Sid pointed out though, I might not enjoy the experience – no modern conveniences, no hot stone spa massages and only weird food available (cucumber sandwiches, champagne, candied quail eggs, what have you)….rather than protein powder, chicken wraps and stir fried Chinese vegetables. I wouldn’t have my TRX or laptop with me, and the ship likely did not have a proper gym on board.

Dr. Robert Ballard spearheaded the first successful recovery efforts in 1985. Considering the “twonky” issue, what if I had brought my BlackBerry™ onto the Titanic with me and had kept it hidden, but had lost it when the ship sank? The salvage team in the mid 80s would have been almost as puzzled by it as the passengers from a century ago, had I brought it out at the Captain’s dinner table.

I firmly believe that time travel will forever remain in the realm of fantasy, despite its popularity as a topic in science fiction. H. G. Wells was onto something with his 1895 publication of The Time Machine. Far more possible is the future emergence of a Choose Your Own Adventure trip down memory lane, à la Total Recall. They actually had something like this in the 60s and 70s: back then it was called LSD.

- Laurie

* Mild pun intended

September 1st update:  as it turns out, we are guilty of not performing due diligence in our research.  The Titanic gym was located on the starboard side of the Boat deck, adjacent to the second funnel.  Between the rowing machines, the stationary bikes, and whatever other pieces of steampunk exercise arcana were available, Laurie might be able to get an acceptable workout.  In fact, it might be an unexpected bonus for her to have the opportunity to work out in a Victorian gym, just to see what state of the art was like a hundred years ago.

- Sid