Slave to the Traffic Light

Driving is something that I've become very interested in over the past year or so, and something that I've been interested in learning more about. It's very rare that I come across a book that really challenges a lot of the perceptions that I have about something, but Tom Vanderbilt's fantastic examination of driving, Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (And What It Says About Us) really did the trick. Traffic looks at, well, Traffic, in all of its numerous and complicated elements, and in doing so, has become a book that is absolutely essential for everyone who gets behind the wheel of an automobile, and even those who come across a road with any regularity. Vanderbilt has put together a wonderfully comprehensive, exhaustive and accessible read that explains just why we drive the way we do and what it says about us.

There are several main arguments and elements of driving that Vanderbilt covers over the course of the book. The first is largely psychological, looking at the first major aspect of driving: The Driver. Without a driver, a car just sits in the driveway or a parking lot, and is for all intents and purposes, harmless. Putting a person behind the wheel subjects the car, driver and passengers to the judgment, attention and skill of the driver.

Attention seems to be the most important element for the driver, and this is something that Vanderbilt tackles right away in the book. Driver error is arguably one of the leading causes of crashes, and in this day and age, there's certainly no shortage of things to distract the driver, from other cars on the road, to mobile phones that are increasingly more complicated. Vanderbilt explains that driving is an extremely complicated process, and that in order to drive around safely without crashing into anything, the brain receives and processes a lot of information - eye tracking cameras have found that a driver is looking all over the place, to the side of the road, in front of the car and ahead, all while analyzing their surroundings and making decisions accordingly that minimize the risk to the occupants. In the instance of driving, eating, talking, fiddling with the radio and so forth, the brain has to essentially divert resources and stimuli in order to properly make those actions. Drivers who look down to text on their phone take their eyes off the road while moving, which creates an incredibly dangerous situation, as the car, moving at speed, is now captained by a driver who isn't acting on their surroundings.

Besides the driver looking at the road, the mentality of the drivers also comes into play. Vanderbilt describes the road as a place where a number of people who don't know each other must interact and cooperate, for the good of the system. Humans are social creatures - look to the difficulty of communicating online, where you are deprived of access of someone's voice and subsequent inflections, facial cues and so forth, and think back to the last time someone honked at you, passed aggressively, and so forth - the road is a place where numerous people come together, with a huge variety of training, habits and attitudes, and where there is virtually no feedback as to how you are doing on the road. Vanderbilt notes that just because a driver doesn't get into an accident, that doesn't necessarily mean that they aren't a poor driver - they've just been lucky. Most problems on the road stem from these relationships between drivers - miscommunications, the absence of communication and drivers not interpreting traffic correctly. As more drivers enter the road - and Vanderbilt notes that traffic is on the rise in the United States - it becomes more crucial for people to work better together while on the road.

Congestion and traffic is the next major issue that is covered in the book. It is noted several times that as highways were constructed in the 1950s and 1960s, they were put together with a certain intent for capacity. In the ensuing years since these roads were constructed, the ceilings for traffic volume has shot through the roof and roads are carrying far more than they were ever intended for. Vanderbilt looks at several issues associated with this: the various ways in which traffic is dealt with, but also how some solutions are really not solutions at all. With a higher volume of vehicles on the roads, Vanderbilt notes that traffic systems have to jockey all these cars around - traffic lights and signs have been longtime elements that have managed traffic, but have severe limitations. Similarly, their very presence impacts the behavior in of cars in ways that are sometimes counter to what is good for the overall system. Traffic lights stop cars completely, which stops the vehicles behind them. Once the green light clicks on, cars go though, but there is an inherent risk there, as cars travel through a projected path of the cars to the side of the intersection. I've long been a fan of rotaries - there is one here in Montpelier, with another one just opened after a couple months of construction, and I believe that they should be put into far more widespread use, as it not only keeps traffic moving smoothly (once people get used to using them), but it keeps drivers on their toes, rather than automatically expecting that they will be safe going through an intersection.

A major issue with congestion is traffic volume, and how driving impacts the rest of an overall system. Vanderbilt notes that often times, roads can handle a high number of cars, provided that there are no bottlenecks, such as accidents and slow-moving cars. He compares the system to a bucket of rice going through a funnel. A certain volume can be handled going through, but with more and more added, everything backs up. He cites one example of stop-lights that monitor the volume of an interstate, and will allow cars on accordingly, at lulls in the system, allowing traffic to move smoothly as a whole. At times, what is best for an individual driver can be harmful to the overall health of the system.

With that in mind, consider that the best thing for the system as a whole is the health and well being of the driver, and in order for that to be achieved most often, drivers need to drive safely, and to be alert. Vanderbilt suggests an argument that on the face seems very counter-intuitive, but one that makes a lot of sense: In order for drivers to be safer, they need to drive in unusually unsafe conditions. Think back to the time when you drove in unfamiliar territory, or a road that was somewhat dangerous, such as a mountain road. I've done that recently, and remembered that I was more alert, a little slower, and more conscious of my surroundings. Thus, I was paying far more attention to the road, and less on what was far less important, such as my mobile phone. This argument has been tried out in various countries, where municipalities have removed road signs from the road in order to make drivers more aware of their surroundings. The result was fewer accidents, not more, as drivers were forced to pay more attention to the cars and roadside than before, where they could not assume safety in the regulations.

Branching off from that argument, Vanderbilt notes that there is an increasingly seductive move to give drivers more space, more warning, and more comfort in order to take cars further apart from one another, or to give drivers more warnings about hazards. The result is that drivers feel more comfortable with their surroundings, but instead of making the road safer, it provides a sense of security that allows drivers to drive more hazardously. Top Gear, the popular BBC show, has ranted about an excess of road signs, placed in towns to mitigate liability for accidents, such as 'Falling Rocks' (What am I meant to do with that information) and 'Changed Priorities Ahead' (I'd been thinking that I'll be more responsible, pay off my mortgage and eat healthier, but when I saw that, I said screw it, I'll go to the pub). Similarly, cities with large numbers of bicycles and pedestrians have noted trends that follow this information: as drivers are more aware of less protected people, they tend to act accordingly. I recently read an article on a city that saw an increase in bike traffic, and rather than a rapid rise in collisions, there were fewer. The problem as I see it is that that drivers do not realize that driving is an inherently risky activity - seatbelts, airbags, crumple zones and the like give us the illusion that we are safer than we really are. To be fair, these instruments are still essential - it may make drivers feel safer, but in an accident, they will absolutely help to save people's lives.

The overall effect of this book is taking a familiar activity and looking at it in an incredible amount of detail. Prior to reading this book, I had no idea of much of the information, and after reading it, I've noticed a number of bad habits with my own driving - things that I'm mindful of now that I'm going to be working to correct. At the very least, I, and I'm sure far more people, are largely unaware of how our actions impact those around us. I've gone, in my mind, from a good driver to an average one, and I'm honestly surprised that I haven't been in an accident before. It's a revelation that needs to be imparted to the rest of the driving population, simply because of one chilling statistic: every time you drive, you have a 1 in a 100 chance of dying in a car accident over the course of your lifetime. This book, in a way, is about risk-management, and examining driving in a way that helps us become more aware of the risks that we take every time we get behind the wheel of the car. Similarly, it helps to put into perspective just how traffic works. It will certainly make me more responsible, knowing the overall context the roadway.

Byron Clark: A Model Progressive

This past weekend, I attended the annual conference for the Northeast Popular Culture Association in Queens, New York, for my first presentation in an academic setting. It's something that I've been quite excited about for the past couple of months. The Byron Clark paper is one that I have been working on for several years now, off and on, and it was nice to finally get some real research done on the paper in order to present a viable argument and my findings.

Byron Clark was born in 1866 in Strafford, Vermont, and throughout much of his youth, lived in both Vermont and New Hampshire. By the age of 19, he had joined the Episcopal Methodist Church, and began travelling around the United States, from New Hampshire to Florida, to California and back into Vermont by 1893. There, he settled into the community and ingrained himself for the rest of his life in Burlington Vermont.

Clark is best known for his creation of YMCA Camp Abnaki, a boy's camp run by the YMCA and one that is still in operation to this day. On July 10th, 1901, Clark took a small group of boys and volunteers and brought them to Cedar Beach, in Charlotte, Vermont, where they camped out for two weeks, before returning. The trip was a success, and Clark repeated the excursion. Eventually, he and the YMCA made the Camp a more permanent fixture of the YMCA, by selecting North Hero as a lasting campsite. From there, Clark and camp workers began to expand the camp, installing buildings and by the time of his death, making the camp a well known and respected institution throughout the state of Vermont, and indeed the world.

Clark, is widely known to this day for his role in the founding of Camp Abnaki. While looking at his life outside of Camp, one can see that he was heavily involved in the Burlington community, and can be regarded as an example of the progressive era. Looking over a list of the organizations that he belonged to, a clearer picture of his motives and drive become apparent. Between the late 1890s and mid-1910s, Clark joined a number of different organizations, such as Vermont Society and Sons of the American Revolution, Vermont Antiquarian League, Vermont Humane Society, Order of Descendants of Colonial Governors, Vermont Anti-Saloon League, Society of the War of 1812, Society of the Army of the Potomac, Boy Scouts of America, The Green Mountain Club and several others. Each of these groups are generally aimed towards building a better community, either through recognizing one's roots, or actively working to build better people - a key part of the Progressive Era.

In Clark's instance, his motivations stemmed primarily from his faith. The Episcopal Church was part of a larger movement of progressive churches, ones that saw movement on a number of fronts, such as prohibition and education, and two fields that Clark was actively involved with. It was suggested at the conference that Clark might have been an Evangelist, given his drive to convert people in order to better themselves, which certainly seems to be something Clark advocated. Still, within the context of the times, Clark seems to be best described as a sort of progressive.

Looking at Clark's record, it's easy to see that he has left a lasting legacy of sorts through his work with Camp Abnaki. 'Help The Other Fellow', the Camp's Motto, is a mantra that in essence, sums up the Progressive era in a few short words. Over the past hundred and eight years that the Camp has been in service, hundreds of thousands of campers who have come through Abnaki's programs have been impacted by this thinking, even if they were only there for a couple of weeks. I have a feeling that it will continue to teach and inform campers in the years to come.

It's Gonna Be The Future Soon

One of the main elements of the science fiction genre is the future. Looking to the future extends far beyond just the world of Science Fiction, but to speculative fiction, religion, the business and military worlds, and indeed, is a question that everyone inevitably asks, can we predict what will happen next? George Friedman's latest book, The Next 100 Years: A Forecast for the 21st Century purports to just that. While Friedman makes a number of interesting, and at times, good points, the resulting work is deeply flawed in its reasoning. I've since reviewed this book for io9 - much of the summary for the book can be found here.

There are three major points that I took issue with when it came to this book, which are instrumental to the book's findings: lack of sources, an overemphasis and reliance on history and the assumption that the world will return to similar political connections that characterized the Cold War. However, while this is the case, Friedman imparts a very important lesson through this book, reminding the reader that history and nations work with a sort of cause and effect mentality, where x event causes y reaction over z time. Major events take years to build and grow, and an essential thing for the reader to keep in mind is that the world and political structure can change over the course of twenty to thirty years.

This book has no index, notes or sources anywhere in the book, which is odd, considering the number of places that there should be some sort of citation, such as a UN report citing declines in birthrates, or historical information on the political stance of a country. The result of this is a lengthy opinion piece that gets stranger and stranger as the decades pile up. Unfortunately for the book, this does nothing to help with the book's credibility, despite the author's credentials, and essentially turns it into an extended op-ed. With no scholarly information to back up the author's assertions, the book rests on the idea that the author knows just what he is talking about, and given some of the things that he comes up with, I am more inclined to file this under fiction, rather than non-fiction.

Much of the book's reasoning seem fairly flawed to me. Friedman, right off the bat, suggests that what he terms the US-Jihadist war (This should probably be Western-Jihadist war, in all actuality) is merely a small problem that will go away within a couple of years. I'm not well versed in the intelligence community or up on the current information, but I would imagine that that's as far from the truth as you can get. The conflict that's ongoing in the Middle East is one that has been brewing for years, even decades. Israel, Palestine, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan and others close by have long-seated issues with the United States and the Western world, fueled by extremists who believe that our way of life is detrimental to theirs, and have literally been killing themselves to try and stop us. This is not a problem that will vanish without many of those underlying problems being corrected, which I don't see happening. Furthermore, Friedman fails to take into account how things will change with time - the importance of petroleum, for example, which is not a sure thing. What will the effects of climate change legislation have on nations, and how will changes in these resources affect countries. Furthermore, South America, Oceania and Africa are barely mentioned throughout the book.

Friedman hangs his hat on this one assumption - that the global war on fundamentalist terrorists will go away, and that the world will resume tensions that were in existence during the Cold War. He predicts that Russia will consolidate its power and a Russian bloc in Europe. While there are indications that this is happening, I don't believe that it will be anything like what happened before, and that the US will essentially enter another Cold War. Furthermore, down the road, he predicts that the eventual demise of Russia will lead to the rise of Japan, Turkey and Poland, which I find somewhat more unlikely, at least with Poland and Japan.

Much of his reasoning in these instances depends upon historical record and what has gone on before with these countries. He notes that Japan, despite its recent pacifism, will return to warlike routes and eventually challenge the United States. Turkey will do the same. I find Turkey's case slightly more reasonable, because of its diplomatic ties, stability and economy. In addition to these two countries, he also cites German and Russian tendencies to war. This to me is a particularly dangerous assumption, because countries and cultures are redeemable, as seen with Japan. Countries will not go to war or suddenly become aggressive simply because they have done so in the past. Japan has become incredibly tame, with a culture and multiple generations of people to support that. Germany similarly. Warfare, as Clausewitz notes, is an extension of political policy, and with a culture that is largely against war and conflict supporting a political structure, a highly militant Japan rising again seems unlikely. Friedman's assertions that by the middle of the century, with lunar bases and 'Battle Stars' operated by the United States, are on the face ridiculous. (The cost alone of creating the International Space Station, which houses 6 scientists is in the trillions - the prices for stations that house people in the hundreds is magnitudes higher. Even then, with a mindset of defense against other nations, this still doesn't fly.) But, even then, the idea that the Japanese will bomb these US facilities in a Pearl Harbor-esque attack on Thanksgiving evening is just nothing sort of laughable. History certainly has its place, but it cannot be used reliably to predict the future with an instance such as this. Analyze trends and motivations, yes, but using a country's prior methods of warfare, in this manner, is pure fiction.

This is unfortunate, because the book is presented as fact and not necessarily as an exercise in history or how to think about how these events might work in the future. The result is a ridiculous and absurd argument for a return to older political thinking from people who were immersed in that world for so long.

The Brakes

I replaced the rear brakes on my car at the end of last week. It's been a long-standing issue that I've been waiting to fix for a little while now, and once you can hear the brakes working, it's generally a good indication that things need to be replaced. There's been a bunch of things that have gone wrong with my car since I've owned it, ranging from the more serious (transmission failure) to the incredibly minor, (windshield wipers needing replacement). When I've had the opportunity, I've opted to fix things myself. There are two main reasons for this. The first is that it's much, much cheaper. The estimated cost of brake replacement for the Mini was somewhere in the $300-$350 range. That's doable, but it takes a huge chunk of cash away from me. Fixing the brakes myself does more than save me money, however; it gives me some time learning just how my car works. Pulling the tire away gives me a good view of the suspension, and while I'm unscrewing or removing something, it gives me some time to actually examine how this works. It also gives me a bit more ownership of the car, making it a bit more my pride and joy, in a way.

Still, waiting to do the brakes, while possibly not the smartest thing to do, has imparted me with some lessons that have affected my driving habits. Coupled with the mindset of trying to save gas, I've come to change my driving habits in a way that makes me a better driver overall, I think. At the very least, it's gotten me thinking about how I'm driving, which few people seem to be able to do.

With the brakes going, I've learned better how to avoid using them. This doesn't mean that I didn't use them, but used them more sparingly, and drove in a way that meant that I didn't have to use them to the extent that I did. This means driving at a bit of a slower pace in traffic, giving myself more space between myself and the car ahead of me. Instead, I'd coast, downshift the car and take my foot off the gas, which helps bring down the car's fuel consumption a bit.

And it's worked - driving carefully, I've noticed a slight uptick in my car's fuel mileage, which is good, but I've also been a better driver around people. In doing so, I've noticed other bad habits that I've seen people doing - braking constantly, riding their brakes, tailgating other cars, braking while going uphill and not paying attention to the road through a variety of means.

While I've taken ownership of my car and responsibility for its maintenance, I've found that I've become more interested in the road and my own driving habits. Hopefully, with fuel at high prices and people watching where they put their money, they will do the same things.

The Nobel Prize and The President

This morning's news that President Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize was an enormous surprise for both me and the President, who was informed earlier this morning of the news. The Nobel Prize Committee, in a short press release on their website, cited that the President has "created a new climate in international politics", as well as reemphasizing the role of the United Nations and work towards nuclear disarmament. While I am surprised that the President has been awarded the prize, I believe that this award comes too prematurely, and could serve to undercut the short-term credibility of the organization. President Obama has really done little thus far to deserve such an award, in my view. While I am a fan of the President, and largely agree with a number of his policies, many of the major policy initiatives that he has sworn to undertake have not been fulfilled yet. The prison facility at Guantanamo Bay is still in operation, despite orders to close the base, attempts at a peace between the Israeli and Palestinian governments have not changed in any significant fashion and two wars in the Middle East still rage on.

Despite that, I think that the awarding of this prize is a significant marker in the way that the tone has shifted towards the United States because of President Obama. Given that the nominations for the prize were due around the time that he went into office, I have to think that this wasn't because of any specific policies, but more about the post-election period where his administration began to plan out their strategy for the next four years, which included ending the war in Iraq, closing Guantanamo, and working on fixing the country domestically, all things that have yet to happen, and most likely won't for the foreseeable future. The fact that the prize seems to have been awarded on the potential of a person is a bit disturbing, because a failure of the Obama administration to achieve some or all of these goals will undermine the award. The speeches and talk prior to the election sounded good - fantastic, even - but it has to be remembered that it is the actions that will distinguish the president, not his words.

Still, the mere presence of a riveting figure appears to be worthy of the prize, and there are some good indications that his entry into world politics has yielded some results. Iran has agreed to open nuclear talks with the rest of the world, and the US has made some significant moves towards reducing its nuclear arsenal, along with Russia. What is more important, I feel, is the overtures that the President is making, pushing for a more important role for peace, apologizing for some very wrong things that the United States has undertaken and showing that at least there is significant efforts to change the very standoffish stance that the United States has undertaken in the past eight years. While these have not been backed up with the same significant actions, the United States has shown the first efforts towards this with renewed efforts in the State Department.

Is the president deserving of this award for his actions in office thus far? Not really, no. But, as the New York Times points out, it's not unprecedented, that individuals with potential have been awarded the Prize, such as West German Chancellor Willy Brandt. As the Times suggests, there is already something in progress with the election of President Obama. I just hope that it will play out as expected.

Review: The Windup Girl

Paolo Bacigalupi‘s debut novel The Windup Girl is a frightening, realistic and brilliant look at the near future of the world. Taking place in Thailand at some point in the future, Bacigalupi paints a picture of a world that is caught between several major problems: climate change has affected the lives of many people around the world. At the same time, a rise in global agricultural corporations has devastated the global ecosystem while global energy resources have been depleted, forcing major changes in the way people live their lives. In a post-oil world, people have adapted, and trade is once again bringing things to people around the world. Corporations have run amok with trying to maintain their profit margins, and released a number of plagues upon the world that devastated the planet’s ecology upon which we all depend. Because of their actions, civilization remains just a single step ahead of the latest mutation of blister rust and other diseases. Amongst all of this, Thailand has thus far weathered the storm – the royal government has maintained a fierce isolationist policy to keep the country from succumbing. As a result, the country has a precious resource that western companies desperately want: a genebank, containing thousands of new strains of crops that could be utilized to combat the ongoing struggle against plagues and hunger world-wide.

The story follows several interlocking storylines and characters, each with their own motivations and demons. Anderson is a ‘calorie man’, a westerner who ostensibly manages a factory that manufactures kink-springs, a renewable power source. Jaidee is a member of the Environmental Ministry, tasked with maintaining a barrier between Thailand and the rest of the world and the dangers that it poses. Emiko is a windup, a genetically engineered woman, designed by the Japanese for servitude and for sex, who was abandoned in Thailand and fears that she will be found by the Environmental Ministry's White Shirts and disposed of. In addition to these main characters, there are a number of other background characters who are just as complex as their counterparts. Anderson has come to Thailand on the behalf of a major agricorporation that is hoping to gain a foothold in the country in order to obtain rights to the country’s gene banks. While he is ostensibly looking for ways to combat the plagues, Thailand officials believe that the corporations have far more sinister and selfish motivations for the gene banks. While in the country, he has to walk a narrow line to stay in the country, as the Environmental Ministry intends to keep Thailand free.

Captain Jaidee is a leading member of the Environmental Ministry, and throughout the book, it is clear that the country is not necessarily unified in its position to remain away from the rest of the world. Limited trade and imports occur through the actions of the Trade Ministry, which is at frightening odds with the Environmental Ministry, to the point where open bloodshed and crimes are committed on both sides to try and force their position upon the rest of the country, which eventually interrupts into violence, which helps to push forward some of the plans that Anderson and others have laid to gain more traction into the country.

Emiko’s titular character is somewhere between the various storylines. As an artificial biological construct, she is a representation of what is wrong with the outside world in the eyes of a secular nation that believes heavily in the value of one’s soul and rebirth. To the Thai people, she is a soulless being, one who is against nature, and essentially lumped in with the problems of the world. Thus, Emiko, who is unsuited for Thailand’s climate with reduced pores (she overheats easily) and a body structure that makes her stutter while moving, which makes her a literal odd woman out, and thus a target to the Environmental Ministry who see her as a threat to the country’s independence.

Futuristic worlds are a common element in Science Fiction, but it is very rare to have one that is so deeply realized as Bacugalupi’s Thailand, one that takes the current state of existence for the country and extrapolates into the future with hypothetical events. The portrait that he paints of the world is very scary indeed, and the constructed world has reacted accordingly though a number of levels. What makes this novel so interesting is just how everything fits together. There are economic elements that make sense, social, biological and political, all of which are not mere exposition in a prologue in the novel, but where they are an active part of the storyline. This, in a way is one of the best examples of show, don’t tell, a writing exercise that I remember from creative writing courses. What is even better (or sobering, depending on how you look at it), this world makes sense. I can see major corporations putting profit ahead of common sense, and I can see the world going to hell in much more vivid detail now. Furthermore, Bacugalupi posits the power struggle between various departments of government, each with their own agendas and motives, both at odds with one another, which trails up through to the very end of the book.

There’s a strong look at morality and ethics when it comes to bioengineering and the eventual fate of the species, and how our role fits within a society such as what we see in the future. Emiko, a Windup, is shunned, hated, in reaction to what she was, and what she represented: something highly unnatural. By the same token, there are holes in that sort of feeling, as one character confronts towards the end of the novel. One thing that particularly stuck in my mind was how much of evolution is an unnatural, random occurrence, verses how much of it is conscious decisions that any sort of creature makes that better enhances their chances of survival? In this world, survival is predicated on the work of gene rippers and scientists who remain just a couple of steps against plagues – it is noted that the windups are built for a purpose, and that they are immune to most problems in the world because of their unique design. Like the clashes in the Thailand government, there is a larger struggle at stake, survival, with both sides making valid arguments for their continued existence. In a sense, this story is a look at how the human race might choose to survive, and enter a new stage of development. To me, this is a very profound element to the story.

When all is said and done, there is one big theme that goes through and through with this book: survival. Each element of the book deals with this very issue, from the ultimate survival of the human race in a hostile world, to the immediate survival of several characters who are neck deep in political and economic conspiracy to the various branches of government who want to see their vision of the future for their country to survive the coming turmoil.

What truly stands out for this book is the rich detail and fantastic prose. I’ve purposely taken my time with this book so that I could absorb as much as I could. What Bacugalupi puts together is a superior story, one of the best science fiction novels that I have read in a long time, one that takes the best from well thought out characters, plausible economics and science and a complicated story.

Stargate Universe

On Friday, the SyFy channel unveiled its latest addition from the Stargate franchise, Stargate: Universe to high ratings, showing that the third series has a good potential at life for the newly relaunched channel. This new version is an enormous leap forward for the series, evolving characters, storylines and the entire universe in which the show is set to bring about what looks to be a very promising addition to both the franchise and the genre.

Stargate: Universe opens quietly, with several location shots of space and the Destiny, the ship on which the show will be taking place, with an eventual cut to the familiar image of an active Stargate. A single soldier flies through the opening (Lt. Matthew Scott), falling and quickly checking his surroundings. What happens next is a mad rush of people and equipment. There is no explanation, no introduction of characters or their situation. It proves to be one of the most compelling moments in the franchise to date, and is so out of character for the Stargate Universe that this could very well be a different show, unrelated to the Stargate franchise, one that utilizes only one of the elements of the original show to any large degree, the titular Stargate.

The rest of the episode is shown through alternating scenes, the frantic scenes onboard the Ancient ship and the moments leading up to their predicament. Notable characters, such as Daniel Jackson, Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter all make short cameos, which helps transition this universe from the familiar world of SG-1. I was happy to see that the characters got their moments, (they did the same for Atlantis), but I was equally happy that these appearances were just placeholders, showing that the franchise and storylines moved on after SG-1, and that there were other things to explore. The episode storyline is also very different from what longtime viewers of SG-1 or Atlantis might expect, both in story and execution. With the unconventional start to the episode, we go back to see Eli Wallace, a typical geek-type, solves a puzzle on an MMORPG and is visited by O'Neill and Dr. Rush, who tell him that the puzzle was to help solve a problem that the SGC was having off world. Eli is brought to a spaceship (where we see Daniel Jackson at his best, explaining things in long form) and brought to Icarus Base, where Rush is working out an equation to uncover the meaning behind the 9th chevron of the Stargate. Because of the planet's unique properties, this is the ideal place to study, for power reasons. Shortly after the delegation's arrival, the planet is attacked and the team, with Eli's help, is able to dial the new address with the 9th Chevron, bringing the storyline to The Destiny, an Ancient ship designed to explore, but that is also falling apart.

Thus, the series begins, not with the very typical elements that defined the earlier shows, but with even more basic ones - air supply (the first three episodes are called Air, Parts 1, 2 and 3, with 3 airing next Friday) food and water, with the very survival of the people, all unprepared for this unexpected journey. This is a huge change from the two prior series - the characters were laid out, the story generally involved a new planet or technology, and everyone was home by supper. This changed over the evolution of the shows, but by and large, this formula didn't change all that much. This, on the other hand, takes the formula and throws it through the Stargate. While this isn't BattlestarGate like a lot of people had thought, it's clear that SyFy has realized that the method of storytelling that Battlestar Galactica utilized would work well for this show, and from all appearances, it's been utilized very well.

What I liked most of all was that this isn't a rehash of SG-1 like Stargate Atlantis was. SG-1 was a very fun show, one that really grew with time, but a show that really held to many of the same conventions throughout. Thus, it was consistent, but as viewers tastes in shows matures, the show did not. Atlantis was essentially a rehash of SG-1, just with different characters in a different galaxy, but with many of the same stories and even situations carrying over. This show, on the other hand, seems to seek out a very different path with the overall intent of the storyline, going over some new territory and retreading some very basic older ground.

What the show does to the franchise is that it removes many of the assumptions that the earlier shows held. Travelling to another planet, after a while, became very routine and as such, much of that energy and enthusiasm vanished in the first couple seasons, and were aptly replaced by the major storylines that developed. This is in no way a bad thing, but it was a noticeable thing. With Universe, that sense is back, but with it is much of the danger and feeling of the unknown. Where SG-1 sprinted through stories, Universe is taking the slower and more deliberate route, which should be more realistic, but more interesting to the modern viewer.

Like in SG-1, the core of the story is exploration; really capturing what I believe is the central essence of Science Fiction, exploration. This is demonstrated after the refugees from the base find themselves on the ship, and it is explained that they can fulfill something important while onboard, exploring the universe around them, essentially making the best of what is a really terrible situation. This is where the show delves into new territory, with a race for survival for basics - security and air. This was explored a bit in Atlantis, but not nearly with as much urgency as here. SGC members tread around the ship, almost getting killed when they open the wrong doors, and they race to repair the atmospheric conditions on board by plugging a couple of leaks that they find and fixing the air scrubbers. This is something that never seemed to happen in the original shows, and to some extent, it feels a little more like the original film upon which the shows are based. This is something that will most likely continue with the rest of the series, as the characters begin to inventory what they have - tape, paper, but not much when it comes to necessities. Hugo Award winning author John Scalzi has been brought in as a consultant, and noted that the crew has a finite number of resources, such as bullets and food, and that this figures into the style of the show.

What is also very promising for the rest of the series is the characters. While initially reading over the early plots and character descriptions, I wasn't very hopeful for how the show looked. Fortunately, SyFy has assembled a very promising cast of characters, each with their own moments in the limelight as the story progressed in the first episode. There is enough background hinted at for each character for a whole multitude of upcoming stories, somewhat along the lines of what was done in LOST, which is good. We have a number of characters that really aren't the cut and dry, good and bad sort of characters. Rather, we're treated to numerous shades of gray, and I'm not sure where these characters will end up by the end of Season 1. Of the entire cast, however, Dr. Nicholas Rush, played by Robert Carlyle is the most intriguing, with a hinted tragic past and unclear motivations, and will clearly be a person to watch during future episodes. A number of the other characters are also quite interesting, and I am eager to see what they do with a couple of them.

Universe, when it was first announced, was not a show that I was looking forward to. Early news reports did not look good, and even with the first trailers, I wasn't won over by the premise. It was not until I began to hear that this show would be different, not only in how it was shot, but how it was structured, that I began to take more of an interest, and watching the results, I was amazed at how the franchise had grown up to what I saw before me. This is a good move for SyFy and the Stargate franchise, because it shows that the story can move onto different story models and styles, rather than essentially rehashing much of the same, as Atlantis did with SG-1. Atlantis failed after only five seasons, compared to SG-1's massive run of ten seasons. Indeed, the eventual failure of SG-1 is most likely the same as Atlantis's - the show simply did not change enough from the original model, even with a fairly new cast and set of storylines that would have carried it into future seasons. Universe seems to be that change that the franchise has so desperately needed, one that retains the familiar aspects of the shows that we know and love, but with newer elements that have been shown to work very well in a number of newer shows.

Air, Parts 1 and 2, are a fantastic start to the new show, and if they are any indication of how this season will fare, it will be very interesting indeed. Already, it is amongst the best two hours in the entire franchise, and I have a feeling that the rest of the show will put Universe as one of the better shows in the franchise, if not the best of the three. I am now eagerly awaiting the rest of the season.

The Progressive Era, Government and Industry and Trust

The political climate over the past year has gotten me thinking about the relationship between government and the economy, and it's turned my thinking around in a number of different ways. It's an incredibly difficult subject to approach, and I've often found myself caught between both sides of the argument.

I've recently been studying the Progressive Era, especially in the state of Vermont, in the early 1900s. From the mid 1800s to that point, Vermont underwent a bit of a technical revolution, with larger industries, namely with Granite in Barre, coming into the state, with their own histories with organized labor and several incidents of unrest. In my current research, I'm examining Byron Clark, a Burlington man who I feel exemplifies the Progressive era as a model representative, and through this research, I've come across several sources that have noted that the Progressive Era was a time of massive social reform in response to industry.

"The progressive era has long been recognized as one of substantial contribution to social legislation. Working through state and national legislatures, reformers rewrote child labor laws and safety and factory inspection statues. They cast the society's response to industrial accident and death into the new form of workmen's compensation. They limited working hours for some women and in a few cases, for men. In some states, night work became illegal. By 1915, several states had passed minimum wage legislation." (1)

As business and the economy grew in the United States during this time, many of these reforms were left to the states. As the economy likewise began to nationalize, so to did reformers, who saw a need for uniform legislation to cover a more uniform economy. (2) Clark wasn't involved with this level of the Progressive era, as I've found little evidence that he worked in state-wide or national politics, but his actions clearly indicate that he saw a need for the sort of things that industry detracted from in society - the need for a well rounded education in the body, mind and spirit of children, for example, which still lives on with him today through the continued operation of YMCA Camp Abnaki in North Hero, VT.

My point in all of this is that the unfettered rise of industry in this country is one that is not pretty. It was exploitative on a wide scale level, by industry bosses who raced to undercut their competitors at the expense of the workers who made up their bottom line. One of the more interesting reads that I've come across is David Von Drehle's book, Triangle: The Fire That Changed America, which looks at the Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire that killed a number of workers because the company's upper management felt that the risk of workers taking too many smoking breaks outweighed the risk of proper safety. As it happened, workers died because the fire escapes were chained up.

A friend of mine, in her blog, pondered the question, why is it more important to distrust government over industry? There are valid arguments for distrust of any sort of governmental setup - an overabundance of regulation when it comes to industry can harm the innovation and expansion of market power that helps keep the economy robust, as many Republican members of congress have noted in their oppositions to the current reforms that are ongoing in legislation at the moment.

This, I think, is where the Progressive era can be extremely helpful. Faced with the excesses of industry and overwhelming legislation, the Progressive Era is a transitional point between the two extremes, from a laissez-faire part of history prior to the era, to the New Deal reforms of the 1930s and 1940s. The Progressive Era was the middle ground that seems to be so coveted by the American public, but for some reason, it seems to be unobtainable.

Like Amber noted in her blog, I don't trust Industry. From its own history throughout its rise, it has proven, time and time again that the interests of a nation and the well being of the people are not at the forefront of any sort of industrial agenda, aside from the added effect of raising a country's GDP and economy. In this excuse, it seems to be okay for companies to contaminate our ground and air, duck responsibility for accidents and try to deceive the general public. While I was in college, I worked with a small company that helps to inspect and analyze groundwater contamination, and by Dad, who's worked at the company, has been called as an expert witness on the behalf of some, going up against larger oil companies who try to pass off the problem to those who ultimately are not responsible. Similarly, with companies such as Union Carbide, Pfizer and Monsanto Corporation are all modern companies who have had similar accidents for which they have shown that while they can provide much good for the well being of the nation, they can also cause a great amount of harm for those who are unfortunate enough to live in the same areas. People who argue that industry can be responsible may have some valid points, but they miss or disregard most of the arguments that prove that this isn't the case. Industry cannot be responsible for its own actions because it has shown that. Regulation, in many cases, not all, helps to keep this behavior in check, to keep industry responsible for its actions. This is the greatest lesson out of the Progressive era that I've come across.

From the past and present, we have to look to the future. The current argument of government vs. economy is one that will rage on for a long time, and I've found myself thinking about it while reading Paolo Bacigalupi's first novel, The Windup Girl. It's a hard SF novel that deals with this very issue - a world that is overrun by industrial greed, in the form of large agricultural companies who have decimated the planet with artificial plagues that have run out of control. I'm hoping to write up a review for the book in the coming week or so (I'm taking my time with it right now), but I think that there are some valuable lessons here - industrial and corporate powers are really not the ones to be trusted - their interests lie elsewhere. While generating a profit is hardly a bad thing, it should not be at the expense of the lives of the people around them.

1 - William Graebner. "Federalism in the Progressive Era: A Structural Interpretation of Reform." The Journal of American History, Vol 64, No. 2 (Sept 1977), 331 2 - Ibid, 332

Recommended Readings

My friend Tyler copied an idea from another blog about his ten must-read books. I figured that I'd get in on the game with a list of my own essential books. I'll try and avoid some of the more obvious ones, as he noted, such as Lord of the Rings and The Golden Compass with some stuff that usually doesn't get enough attention. I can't, however, promise that I'm going to limit it to an arbatrary number. I will limit it to geek-related reading, however. SF, Science, Fantasy, etc.

The Magicians, Lev Grossman. I read this book late in the summer, and was really impressed with the storyline and direction that it took. While ostensibly a ripoff of Harry Potter and The Chronicles of Narnia, this book explores more realistic feelings of a young man being trained in the art of magic. Wired for War, P.W. Singer. This was an earlier read this year, for which I wrote a review for io9, and had a chance to meet and speak with Mr. Singer. This book is ripe with SF references and potential, looking at the introduction of robotic entities into warfare, and how that effects not only combat, but our military's structure. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, Susanna Clarke. Suzanne Clarke is possibly one of the best fantasy writers of our generation. JSMR is a stunning book, rich in depth and prose, and is a very deliberate book to get through. It's long, challenging and absolutely fantastic. Men of Tomorrow: Geeks, Gangsters and the Birth of the Comic Book, Gerald Jones. This book is what got me interested in social history, which has then gotten me further interested in the field and writing. This book presents a very interesting chronicle of the comic book industry, linking it to major events throughout US history, and traces the beginnings of the first comic strips to the industry that it is today. Coyote, Allen M. Steele. Coyote was initially published as a series of short stories by Steele in Asimov's Science Fiction, and is a great read on intersteller travel, near future politics (this was born out of the Bush Administration, and while it's interesting, it's not necessarily accurate or really in depth) and the colonization of a world, a sort of parallel with the foundation of the United States. The World Without Us, Alan Weisman. Alan Wesiman askes an interesting question: what would happen if humanity just vanished? He then goes on to say what would happen - infrastructure would collapse and vanish quickly, and this premise was used in the recent film I Am Legend. However, there's a really good part of this that examines our relationship with nature. The Lies of Locke Lamora, Scott Lynch. Scott Lynch's first novel is an absolutely riveting read. Lynch is a master at epic world building, creating a detailed fantasy society that includes the darker elements that most Fantasy series seem to avoid. His followup novel, Red Seas under Red Skies is also well worth reading. The Icarus Hunt, Timothy Zahn. This is an older book by one of my favorite authors, Timothy Zahn. It's fairly light fare, but it's an entertaining space opera novel that holds up well. In the Shadow of the Moon, Francis French and Colin Burgess. With the 40th anniversary of the Lunar Landings, there has been an influx of interest in the history of space travel. The University of Nebraska has been on the ball for a couple years now, with the release of In the Shadow of the Moon, which has no connection to the wonderful documentary of the same title. This book examines the history of space travel, on the behalf of the US and Russia, from Gemini to Apollo 11, covering the territory in fantastic detail. The other books in the series are also wonderful. City of Pearl, Karen Traviss. Karen Traviss's debut novel is the first of a six book series and helps to establish her as one of the best new SF writers of the decade. Her stories take place in a number of well concieved worlds and looks over near-future technology, environmental issues and corporate demands. Oh yeah, and some interesting first contact situations and interstellar warfare. American Gods, Neil Gaiman. What's to say about American Gods that hasn't been said before? Gaiman has put together an incredible story. Altered Carbon, Richard K. Morgan. Richard K. Morgan is another up and coming SF writer who has just burst onto the scene in wonderful fashion with this book, Altered Carbon. Morgan puts together a fantastic futuristic world through the story of a noir-esque mystery. Ringworld, Larry Niven. This is already a classic in the SF world, but I wanted to include it because it doesn't get as much attention as some of the other heavyweights of the genre. Ringworld combines epic science fiction from the best elements and lofty themes of the 1970s with another classic theme of SF, exploration. Soon I Will Be Invincible, Austin Grossman. Austin Grossman's first novel about a group of Superheroes in modern society is a fun, exciting and interesting read. These superheroes are a far cry from those of the classic superheroes that are in the comics: these guys have affairs, problems and a rich comic book-style history behind this world. Fans of Watchmen should enjoy it. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Michael Chabon. Michael Chabon's Pulitzer Prize winning novel is the story of the creation of Superman, and I would actually recommend reading it along with Men of Tomorrow. It's a wonderful and engaging read. The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Vol 1, Robert Silverberg. This last book is one that I would recommend above all others. If there was ever a situation in which you could only read one SF book, this is the one that I'd recommend. A collection of superb SF stories from the best minds of the genre, this book is one that is absolutely essential. The stories, writing and authors are all top-notch for their times, and this collection of their best works is easily the best snapshot of the genre that I can think of.

Return to Waldens

Last night, after a two year absence, I've returned to work at Walden Books, where I worked for about a year while in college. I didn't leave on the best of terms in my mind. Two of my best friends who worked with me had just been fired. I'd just graduated college, lived at home and wasn't making much money, and I was often paired with a dull woman whom I couldn't stand. The Norwich University job was a welcome change, one that I've never regretted taking. I still stopped by the bookstore regularly - I still had a couple of friends who worked at the branch, and because Borders was kind enough to continue to send coupons via their rewards program, I had a good incentive to shop there.

The past year, I've missed working at the bookstore - a bit. When I first worked at the store, I had a very positive outlook on just how a bookstore would be, and that lasted for a little while, before it became a form of hardened cynasism - the bookstore wasn't a place of books, it was a store, one with goals, objectives and key items that needed to be sold. Rewards cards had to be checked, signed up and logged, drawers had to be counted over and over again, and the customers take on an attitude that we're not there to help them, we're there to serve them. Thinking back, I wasn't sure why I really missed working there.

Stepping back behind the register desk, going up to customers and everything came flooding back when I went back last night. I actually remembered my old store code, how to work the register, and everything that I really needed to know to start up again. The Berlin Mall hasn't changed from an employee's point of view. The same customers walk up and down the hallway, the food is still just as greasy and bad as I remembered it. Essentially, almost nothing has changed.

But, returning there, I realize just how much I've changed in the meantime. My entire view of customers, the business process and the book industry has changed as a result of my work at the bookstore and the ensuing years of different customer service sort of work, as well as how I think about problems and approach solutions, for the better, I think. I still anticipate customer problems, but I'm far more confident in myself and how I work that I can address these sorts of things in a much better and more mentally-stable fashion. That's the plan anyway.

The Decemberists and the Hazards of Love (9-20, Burlington, VT)

I never got around to formally reviewing The Decemberist's latest album, The Hazards of Love, when it was released this past spring, but when I saw that they were coming up Vermont, I elected to hold off until I'd watched them in person and kill two birds with one stone.

The Decemberists is a group that I admittedly have a hard time with. They were largely introduced to me through a now-ex girlfriend, bringing back some memories that I've not really thought about for a long time. Initially, I really disliked these guys to begin with. I hadn't gotten to the point where I would sit down and process songs - I just didn't like the sound. That changed when I listened their first major record, The Crane Wife, which I really enjoyed. Listening to them a bit more, I really got into their lyrics and began to enjoy some of their earlier songs as well, although I still think that the Crane Wife is one of their best albums to date.

The Hazards of Love, then, was an interesting experience. Initially, I wasn't as fond of it. It was a little too out there, I remember thinking, after my first listen through it. A friend of mine told me that he liked it more, because of the prog-rock roots and connected nature of the entire album. This prompted me to go back and listen to it a couple more times with this in mind, plus a little research through the internet to some of the themes and references throughout, and I enjoyed it a lot more.

The Hazards of Love was initially conceived as a rock-musical, of sorts. Several additional singers (Becky Stark of Lavender Diamond, Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond and Jim James of My Morning Jacket) were brought in to sing the various 'parts' that make their appearances throughout the story. The first song really sets the story in motion, when Margaret, voiced by Stark, comes across a shape-shifting fawn, and they fall in love. She then becomes pregnant and goes off to find William (the fawn). We later learn that his mother, the Forest Queen had cast a spell upon him (this is influenced by a number of mythologies - she had saved his life in a river when he was a baby) and he can only remain human during the night. The Queen caught William, and he bargains her for a single night of freedom to be with Margaret. The Queen agrees, at a cost - one night, and after that, his freedom is hers. We're then introduced to the character of the Rake, who's killed his children and when he comes across Margaret, he kidnaps her and takes her to the Annan Waters (the same river where William was rescued). The Queen comes across the Rake, and knowing that Margaret is the only thing that can take William from her, she offers to take Margaret and the Rake across to cause everyone some misery. The Rake continues to escape, but is haunted by the ghosts of his children, and in the struggle, William catches up, and kills the Rake. However, to cross the river the first time, William offered up his body to the waters once again, and when they attempt to cross, and together, they drown in the river.

Like the rest of the Decemberists songs, this is a very complicated album. The themes alone are characteristic of the group, as are their lyrics, and after working out just what this album is about, I absolutely love it. When I finally realized the good parts of the Decemberists, their lyrics, complicated stories and sound, I really got into it, and this is much the same case here. The Hazards of Love is a stunning, complicated and beautiful album. I highly recommend giving it a good solid listen - be warned, this is the sort of album that requires you to really pay attention to the lyrics.

Last night, The Decemberists appeared at the Flynn Theater in Burlington, Vermont, opened by Laura Veirs and the Hall of Flames. The Flames were decent, but a newer band that really sounded like they were learning their sound. At times, they sounded fairly good - when all were singing together. Veirs on her own felt very unsupported, and out of place. Hopefully we'll hear a bit more from them, improved, in the future.

The Decemberists as a group are a fantastic live act, and the Flynn was a fantastic place to see them live. Unfortunately, my phone died, and I was unable to take down the set list. According to Colin Meloy, they intended to play The Hazards of Love in its entirety, but because Becky Stark's flight was cancelled, they improvised, playing a mixed set of old and new songs. There were a number of notable songs that they played, from 16 Military Wives, Apology Song, The Crane Wife 3, as well as a couple of older, more obscure ones that I didn't know the names off the top of my head.

One of the things that really impressed me was at how much of the show was a group act, not Colin Meloy supported by the remaining band members. Throughout the show, given the nature of the album and their songs, it seemed like the sound was put together by everyone, each with an integral part that made the result what it was. While Meloy was certainly one of the more visible parts of the group, it's a group effort, through and through.

I was also impressed with the sheer energy and drama that they brought forth from the stage. The group was already fairly theatrical, from what I'd heard, but once again, given the nature of Hazards, there was certainly a bit of acting between some of the singers during those songs. Shara Worden provided a stunning stage presence with her other-worldly like appearance of the Forest Queen, as well as her cover of Crazy On Me, originally by Heart. I really wish that I had been able to see the full performance of Hazards, because I suspect that would really be something to see. Hopefully the group will feel the need to make it up to Burlington, and return again in the near future.

Barre St. Market

I stopped by the small corner market on my street last night. It's not a place that I've visited much, despite it being just down the street from me, within an easy walk. I only went into it because while cooking dinner last night, I found that I didn't have any milk. Part of my meal was already cooking, so I grabbed my jacket and walked down to pick up something, and seeing that Shaw's was about a half-mile down the road, this would be quicker. I honestly don't know why I've never stopped by the place. I think I've been in there only once before. I think the perception of that street and the shop's size has just led me to think that there's not much there - the larger supermarkets in the area carry just about everything that I need, and as such, I tend to drive right past this place. When I walked in last night, I wasn't necessarily expecting much. I picked up my milk (Which I suspect, is currently sitting on the counter after using it last night. Crap.) went to the counter to pay, only to be told my the owner (who I think is Bangladeshi) politely told me that there was a ten-dollar minimum on debit purchases. Annoyed, I turned and looked around for something else to get so that I could complete my purchase and walk through the rain to my apartment to finish my cooking.

The store was immaculate. I hadn't so much as glanced around the room when I walked into the shop as I made a beeline for the milk. Now that I had a chance to look around the store a bit more, I saw that the shoulder-high shelves were laden with goods, and they were organized, their bright labels facing outwards, each one perched on the edge of the shelf with care. The floor was spotless, and the candy bars were behind a pane of glass, neatly arranged. Further browsing for a second revealed that this wasn't like a gas station convenience store, with the stock number of goods designed for a quick grab by a traveller looking to get in and out - there was a genuine selection here.

I grabbed a six-pack of beer, one of the things that sprung to mind that I knew I didn't have, and planned to pick up, and returned to the front, where I waited for the shop owner to sell a boy a candy bar while his dad browsed. The exchange was very homely, comforting and alien to me. In the past two years that I've lived in Montpelier, I don't think that I've exchanged more than a couple of words to the vendor, who looked about as interested in my day as I was in theirs. Similarly, I've never seen the same amount of devotion and attention to detail in the larger stores.

I'm not likely to shop there as much as I do the other stores. There's a reason why I'll make the drive over to Berlin or down the street to one of the larger stores - they have a larger selection for what I generally buy, and probably a bit cheaper. When I go shopping, I tend to go cheap, and get everything at once. But having gone down to this small street market, I'm far more inclined to stop in more. I like the feeling and ambience with the place. It is far more welcoming and interesting. Not to mention closer.

Currently Reading

It's been a little while since I've done one of these updates...

Reading Now: Consider Phlebas, Iain M Banks - This is Bank's first book in his Culture Series. It's fast-paced, engaging, and interesting, but it's not making any favorites list for me. The plot's a bit scattered, but it's incredibly rich in the culture (snark) that's inhabited the galaxy. There's epic space warfare, orbital ringworlds, politics on a vast level and a cast of interesting characters. Honestly, this is a very cinematic and fun read. I'm blowing right through it - 200 pages in 2 hours!

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, Mark Haddon - I started this book a while ago, about an autistic man trying to solve the reasons for a dog's death. How Starbucks Saved My Life, Michael Gates Gills - Old, White guy gets job with black boss in retail after a high powered job, learns about self. Meh, it's nothing that I'd buy full price, but it's interesting. Blood and Thunder, Hampton Sides - I've had this book on the reading list for over a year now. It's fantastic, but I'm so burned out on history that I'm not sure when I'll get around to finishing it.

To Read:

The Windup Girl, Paolo Bacigalupi - This is the next book that I'll pick up after I finish Phlebas. It's gotten a bit of buzz around the SF blog world. It takes place in a future Thailand, involving GMOs, Genetic engineering and Politics. I'll probably begin it tonight. The Forever War, Joe Haldeman - This has been a long recommended read for me, and I've been on a bit of a military SF kick lately, so this is one that I'm really looking forward to tackling. Shadowbridge, Gregory Frost - Gregory Frost came to my attention about a year ago when Borders dropped his books. I complained about it here. This looks like a really fun book, part of a duology. I've got both books, Shadowbridge and Lord Tophet, and I'll likely get to them sometime this fall. They look to be quick reads. Traffic, Tom Vanderbilt - This book has long facinated me - I love driving, and this book porports to talk about why we drive the way we do. It's something that I've given quite a bit of thought to, especially while in traffic. The Power Makers, Maury Klein - This book looks really interesting, about the struggle between Nikola Tesla and Thomas Edison, looking at their work and how they helped to bring about a modern United States with electricity and steam power. Tesla has been a figure in American history that has long facinated me, and this type of history is really interesting, something that I love to read about. The Next 100 Years, George Friedman - This book's popped up on a couple of SF blogs as well - I got it along with The Windup Girl. It's a look at the next 100 years and how the economics, politics and wars of the future will play out. I wonder how much of it will come to pass. The People's Tycoon, Steven Watts - This is another personality/history book that I'm really looking forward to - Henry Ford. I'm going to be ramping up a project that has to do with automotive history, and this is going to be the first step towards that project in background research. Theodore Rex - Edmund Morris - This is a biography of Theodore Roosevelt, one that's been highly acclaimed, and a person that I'd like to learn more about. This has been on the list for a while. Time to actually read it when I can get to history again. The Ghost Brigades, John Scalzi - This is the sequel to Scalzi's Old Man War, which I reviewed here. I really enjoyed the first book, it was a fast-paced, entertaining read, and it really set up for this second book. Tales from a Perilous Realm, JRR Tolkien - A collection of Tolkien's short stories, 5 of them. It looks like a fantastic read.

To Read, Tier 2 - These are books that are on the to-read list, but not a huge priority... yet.

Andvari's Ring, Arthur Peterson A Game of Thrones, George RR Martin The Echo of Battle, Brian Linn Kindred, Octavia Butler The Warded Man, Peter Brett Woken Furies, Richard K Morgan Anathem, Neal Stephenson

Today, We Watched the Sky Fall

There is something that's been bothering me on this day, and it's something that I've noticed happening for a couple years now: "Remember 9-11!"

This year, I've been seeing more and more of this, people pouring out a simple one or two sentences, sometimes all in caps, reminding me that I need to remember the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the thwarted attack on United 93. As if I could forget. The events of September 11 will likely remain with me for the rest of my life - I can remember that day as clearly as I remember last week, and in the ensuing eight years, it has changed our world far more than any event that I can remember.

These simple status messages just don't cut it for me. I'm sorry, but from where I'm sitting, status messages are more about the person than anything else, and I've always seen these sort of messages as a simple reaffirmation that whichever person posts something like this, they want everyone else to see that they remember the day, that I'm honoring their memory in the maximum 140 characters and that with that out of the way, I can resume the next 364 days without issue.

What a fucking shallow thing to do.

September 11th was an incredibly complicated and vile act. Just under 3,000 people have died as a result of the attacks, either as passengers on the airplanes, bystanders or rescue personnel. The attacks were planned well in advance by Al Queda, and those plans were spurred on by larger actions on the part of many individuals and nations. In turn, it has unleashed some of the absolute best and some of the absolute worst this nation has to offer upon the world.

I am saddened by what happened. I remember the absolute horror that registered while I watched online as the news poured in. I remember the confusion and the terror of the unknown, wondering if another airplane would come down somewhere else. I can remember the smoke rising and the countless pictures that poured in. It's something that I don't think that I could forget if I wanted to. In the meantime, we have launched two major conflicts around the world, changed legislation, opened prisons and distrust anyone with a water bottle on an airplane. Every single one is a pointed reminder of what happened eight years ago. I can't forget, and I refuse to simply honor those who died on one single day. They deserve better, especially in this nation with such a short attention span.

We are reminded every day that something terrible happened, and I am so tired of being told to support the soldiers overseas, otherwise I'm unpatriotic, I'm tired of the idea that any opinion that differs from the larger public consciousness is nothing short of treason in some people's eyes, I'm tired of the polarization that has infected this country and I'm tired of 9-11 and the memory of those innocent people being used, manipulated into serving an administration's agenda. I'm tired that despite all of the remembering that is going on, we've largely forgotten why we're in the situations that we're in today.

Today, we watched the skies fall and change the world. I'll never forget that.

Review: Old Man's War

Now that I'm done with my Master's, I've been finding myself with lots of free time. Fortunately, I've amassed a small pile (okay, quite large) of books that I'm starting to tackle. Right close to the top was Old Man's War, by John Scalzi, which was recommended to me by a number of io9 readers after releasing a list of top military SF books and films. I hadn't included this book because I was unfamiliar with it, but after reading it, it certainly deserves a place on the list.

Old Man's War was Scalzi's first science fiction novel, and for it, he won the John Campbell Award for best new writer. The story follows John Perry, a seventy-five year old man on Earth who has joined the Colonial Defense Force (CDF). People of his advanced age are specifically recruited because of their lifetime of experiences. He receives a new body, bonds with new fellow recruits and goes into training to become an advanced soldier. Humanity has spread to the stars, and its numerous colonies are largely under constant threat from other alien races throughout the galaxy. Perry goes into action with his unit against numerous races in a number of various battles, before a fateful final battle that leaves him the only survivor.

This is a fun read. Scalzi does a good job conceptualizing a futuristic warrior, the training and captures the battlefield and training bond between soldiers. A constant theme that is explored throughout the book is the idea of fighting for humanity, as a race, despite being a radical variation of said race, while not fighting specifically for a unified government or planet. The soldiers go from fighting for a grand concept such as the survival and foothold of the human race to something much smaller and more concrete, fighting for the survival of their unit.

Fans of military science fiction will really enjoy this book for the tech and action. Scalzi sets some fantastic battles throughout the story, and does a good job linking some of them together along with John Perry's reaction to warfare and his role that he's playing. A particular draw of military science fiction is the advanced super soldier, and Scalzi's green, cat-eyed, rapidly healing and computer interfaced soldiers are nothing new to the genre, but they are fun to read about, and provides just enough new twists to the concept to make it modern and interesting.

On the whole of it, the book is a very standard military science fiction novel. It is a fun read, but it has a number of flaws throughout that substantially weakened the novel. The first of these is the title of the novel, and the gimmick that is relied on - the use of old men and women as soldiers, because supposedly their lifetime of experiences will help with their combat experience. This is only touched upon in the book - it's noted that soldiers have a lifetime of experiences to undo, and throughout the novel, Perry only references his old life back on Earth a handful of times. There's very little practical help that a long life really provides for a soldier, save for one, and that's the link to humanity and earth, but even then, that is not utilized in a way that it really could have been, and all in all, older soldiers are really no different than younger ones, given the tech and upgrades that they receive. Furthermore, the end of the book sees the introduction of the Ghost Brigades, experimental soldiers who have grown up fighting, who seem to be generally more effective than the regular soldiers. This entire aspect of the book left me wanting for more.

The last quarter of the book felt incredibly rushed to me. An alien race has utilized a new technology that proves to be devastating to the human ships during one of the final conflicts in the novel, and Perry is assigned to help the Ghost Brigades capture the devices on the planet. This to me seemed to have very little relation to the experiences that Perry had accumulated throughout the book, breaking an overall good story and character arc, and it misses the vital arguments above that would have helped link Perry's motives in the military with the rest of the human race. Instead, it was a final bang and exposition to which the book ends and it left me both disappointed that there wasn't some revelations to be found from the characters, and that it seemed to just exist for the sole purpose of the next book, titled The Ghost Brigades.

Scalzi falls into a trap that a lot of military science fiction writers seem to fall into: take soldiers, enhance them, and then turn them loose against alien foes. Essentially, most military science fiction novels utilize military doctrine and tactics that seem to be right out of the Second World War 2 or Vietnam, with little exploration to how the military actually works, and how military tactics change to reflect new technology. Infantry warfare is one of the earliest types of warfare, and I honestly find it difficult to believe that it will exist in the future as it is portrayed. There is no mention of other styles of fighting, such as maneuver warfare that pairs up infantry with armored forces, or the capabilities of air power against infantry forces. A quick survey of warfare in the past couple of decades will show that both are as equally important as infantry forces. Indeed, this is the future, with far advanced technology - what advances might there be in the next hundred years, and how will that inevitably impact warfare as we know it? People with guns in hand fighting as they do in this book is a fairly unrealistic method that places characters in an extreme situation to extract some sort of revelation - that never really comes - from the protagonist.

Furthermore, while Scalzi has put forth a fairly well worn and conceptualized universe, the entire system of the CDF and colonies isn't fully explained or realized in the book. There doesn't seem to be any unified system of government between the colonies, and the CDF is deployed at a moment's notice to wherever there are problems with one of the colonies. For a massive government waging constant war against aggressors, it seems illogical that there doesn't appear to be any sort of overall plan or guiding strategy that both utilizes diplomacy to secure its borders and military force as a way of enforcing those borders, if you're a student of Clausewitz. Military forces are not deployed willy-nilly in the real world, without extensive benefits to that government. Here, the colonies seem to be fighting holding actions, with some allies, to hold onto their planets. The absence and outright rejection of diplomacy in this world seems even more illogical.

That all being said, this is an interesting, fun and light read for anybody who is inclined to read military science fiction. While the book doesn't really add anything significant to the subgenre, that's not necessarily the requirement for a good read in the genre. I am interested to see where Scalzi will take this world and characters, and as such, I've already picked up The Ghost Brigades. Hopefully some of the issues will be corrected at some point in the upcoming novels in his series, and if not, it's not detrimental to the world that has been set up.

A Library Without Books

The other day, I came across an article that really shocked me. The Cushing Academy in Ashburnham, MA has decided to eliminate their twenty-thousand book library in favor of a digital one. According to the article, they have spent $500,000 to transform the library into a 'learning center' which will be outfitted with several widescreen televisions to display data from the internet and can interface with student laptops, while they have purchased 18 e-book readers (Most likely the Kindle and Sony Reader) which will have access to a large digital library. To cap it off, a coffee shop is being built in place of the circulation desk, including a $12,000 cappuccino machine.

While this really annoys me, I can see why the change is being made. The internet is becoming far more prevalent in our lives, and e-books are going to be on the rise with the successes of Amazon.com's Kindle device and other similar brands. The school is certainly making a logical, and enormously expensive effort to modernize their library to tap into these new changes in how education might go. With this upgrade, students will have access to quite a lot of material.

There are a large number of flaws with this idea, however. The first thing that came to mind for me was what happens during a prolonged power outage? My iPhone, with an e-book reader will barely last a day as I use it, and in a situation such as that, it's going to be going off until I can plug it in. While I can understand the desire to switch to a completely digital library, I can't understand why this would include eliminating the traditional stacks and contents of the library.

This doesn't necessarily stem from a desire to keep books because of the tactile feel and ease of reading - that is certainly a consideration, but that is not the sole virtue of keeping books on the shelves. The biggest concern that the teachers should feel here is the missed opportunities for students to utilize a working library in all aspects - being able to accurately locate a volume on the shelves, how to conduct searches, and simply browsing the shelves for related content. These are skills, especially in the humanities and social studies fields that will be vital for students to learn, for one simple reason: there are many archives and libraries with content that is not digitalized, and nor will it ever be, because of the sheer volume. Computers have successfully been integrated into libraries for years now - they are an invaluable resource for tracking books and their locations throughout a library. I myself have my own tracking software on my computer at home, called BookDB.

The introduction of online shopping and browsing, such as like on Amazon.com or BN.com, is something that has never really felt comparable to actually going into a bookstore and browsing the shelves. I've come across numerous books, some of which I never would have come across on my own by just browsing the web pages for books. With every advance, you lose something in the process. Nostalgia aside, presence on a shelf can also make or break an author.

What bothers me more is the attitude that books are unimportant. Books are easily one of the most accessible methods in which to introduce a person to reading, as opposed to an e-reader, which is not only expensive, but is a largely inaccessible technology for most out there - you need an internet connection, computer, amazon.com account, and so forth. While the successes of the Kindle are well known, proving that there is a market for it, there is a portion of the population that may not have ready access to something like this. People who aren't inclined to read aren't going to go out and go through all the steps, as opposed to a bookstore, where they might browse the shelves and pick up a cheap paperback book.

Another problem with internet only and digital databases is the tendency to rely far too heavily on information gleaned from the websites. Coming from background with a Master's Degree from an online university and working for the same school, I've seen a number of examples of students utilizing Wikipedia as a credible source, as well as other online websites, without carefully scrutinizing or questioning them. Websites such as Wikipedia certainly has their places in the world - it's a fantastic resource for any number of facts, but due to the nature of its existence, it is hard to trust much of it beyond a glance. Online databases are much more reliable, such as JSTOR, but they can be difficult to access and aren't universal to much of the general public, unlike libraries or public archives.

My own experience with online and digital learning was a positive one, but the experience was not completely digitally based. Norwich University's School of Graduate Studies MMH program switched from digital readings to printed coursepacks to alleviate the burden on students printing out everything, and continued throughout to issue books each course. I personally found being able to sit down with a hard copy reading was much easier on my eyes, allowed me to take copious notes in the margins, and were something I could turn to without having to restart my computer after I went to bed.

I personally wouldn't trade books for anything digital. The lesson here that needs to be remembered is that hardcopy books and digital readings are both delivery methods that bring information to a reader, who then does with it what they will. Physical books have the inherent advantage, in my opinion because they are cheaper for the consumer, easier to handle and don't require additional hardware to access. E-books are a fantastic idea to supplement a student body, either through digital textbooks that could be easily updated and distributed, but not as a replacement to a library system in place. Libraries are far more than just for pleasure reading - they serve a scholarly interest, and their use is something that needs to be taught. Plus, walking around stacks of books is just an outstanding way to get carried away.

iPhone

The future is here, I'm sure of it. For the past couple of years, I've owned a variety of Apple iPods to keep up with my growing interest in music. Looking back at my record with the devices, I'm a little surprised that I actually stuck with the product - since my first one, I've gone through five. Two 3rd generation Classics, 2 2nd generation Nanos and a 2nd generation iPod Touch, which has since been swapped out for an iPhone. Fortunately, I've only paid for a couple of these, because of Apple's fantastic warranty, which covered the first couple devices when their hard drives broke.

I resisted the idea of buying an iPhone for a while, which was one reason why I bought the Touch from a fellow 501st member earlier this year. That was where I realized that there was quite a lot to these devices, and partially the reason why I went out and got a phone. The sheer functionality of the two devices have been a very interesting one, and I believe that it's something right out of science fiction.

I'm finding that the iPhone is an invaluable tool - just carrying it around with me allows me ready access to my calendar, a camera, my e-mail, a calculator, notebook, dictionary, thesaurus, first aid guide, an e-book reader, maps, a compass, the weather, and the internet, among other things, as well as being my phone and music player. I'm slowly getting into the habit of tracking my bills, 501st and work events, concerts and a bunch of other things by using it as a planner, while noting down my food shopping list, interesting books as I browse and looking up the occasional word when I come across something I can't readily remember.

Essentially, what I can hold in my hand is an entirely new method of communicating with the world. I know I'm preaching to the choir here on the Internet. But I'm absolutely astounded that I can check my e-mail, various discussion forums, the news, weather and so much more, practically everywhere I go. (Given AT&T's crappy coverage of Vermont, my options are pretty limited in places). Thinking back to my family's first mobile phone, a clunky, bulky thing that could hardly be put into a pocket, and could only do one thing: call another phone. Here, calling another phone is almost an afterthought.

Star Trek is largely credited with the idea of a hand-held communicator, and the idea has been used throughout the SF genre for years. Taken back to the 1960s, an iPhone, even without having any form of cellular network to operate on, would still be a pretty handy device - it already would be more powerful than the Apollo spacecraft, and considering that the computers of the time were the size of a room. No wonder that the idea of a handheld, wireless communications device would have been a radical idea at the time, and even throughout the next couple of decades, this sort of thing can be used as a prop in the genre.

What interests me more is that for such a rapid development in our society, the influence of something such as a smart phone doesn't seem to make its appearance in Science Fiction as prominently as it might have been. During the Golden Age of Science Fiction, the knowledge that someday, people could walk around, constantly in contact with one another via an impossible technology would have made prime story material for some of the authors. Indeed, some of the effects of these devices would probably fulfill some science fiction authors worst nightmares about a healthy society. The declines in reading, the mutilation of reading and writing abilities, the shorter attention spans and other, similar troublesome trends that we are seeing now help provide the need for such devices.

I for one, have noticed the changes in my own behavior with my phone. Before, I existed without internet at my apartment, although I could check my e-mail on my prior phone. I didn't have television and most of my news updates came from my commute to and from work. Now, I find myself checking my messages every hour or so, while being able to access an incredible amount of information whenever I think of it. Should I want to learn anything about the Faroe Islands (an island group in Northern Europe between Norway and Iceland), or if I need to look up the meaning for the word 'causerie' (light informal conversation for social occasions) or tomorrow's weather, (Mostly sunny, highs in the mid 70s, Light and variable winds...), I have it at my fingertips. I've made a conscious effort to fill my phone with things that are useful, and as such, I've found that in this regard, the phone is a very powerful tool, akin to the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, or the Encyclopedia Galactica. But at other times, I just want to put it away, and just read a book.

Unfortunately, the phone has that covered. I downloaded the iPhone's version of Amazon.com's Kindle technology, which further adds to its already impressive array of uses by turning it into an ebook reader. I've downloaded a handful of the free offerings from the website. I'm currently reading Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, Naomi Novik's His Majesty's Dragon, Kim Stanley Robinson's Red Mars and China Mieville's Perdido Street Station, which is sure to keep me occupied at the next time that I am stuck in a line or away from my books. I can't say that I'm sold on the idea of an ebook reader, but with the option, and the occasions when I've found myself away from whatever I'm reading, I find it to be incredibly useful.

A couple years ago, this sounded like something out of a science fiction novel or film - the advances in technology and miniaturization over the past couple of years has the potential to change how we learn, access information and communicate with one another, but it doesn't change the way in which we interpret that information - it just gives us more and more as people's appetite for information over knowledge increases, which I find more worrying. I like to think that I have customized the programs in my phone be of use, for communications and information access, as well as for entertainment, and as a result, it's by my side constantly. It's handy, but I'm happy that there is one feature on it that has been a staple of all computers since their creation: an off switch.

The Limitations of Tie-In Fiction

A year ago, I wrote up something about the perceptions of tie-In fiction and how it compared to other, more original stories. Author Karen Traviss came up at one point, because she has remained a staunch supporter of tie-in fiction as a sort of professional writing, on the same level as other, more original stories. I've never really come down on either side as to whether tie-in fiction is better or worse than other ones, but Traviss's recent announcement that she was pulling out of the Star Wars universe came with a bit of interest from me. Karen's approach to tie-in fiction is one that I think needs to be emulated by other writers. There is a reason why this sort of genre is looked down upon, I suspect, because authors essentially work from a script, and do little beyond transcribe the script and a couple more details. In contrast, Karen seems to get the stories, and really makes them into a worthwhile book while she's doing it - Matthew Stover has done much the same thing with his own books, as well as a couple other authors who have dabbled in the Star Wars universe for their various tie-in books. The Star Wars editors and LFL have a pretty good grasp of their universe, which ultimately helps things.

Because of this, and because of Karen's article, Sprinting the Marathon, I'm honestly a little surprised that she decided to pull out. Though out this essay, she stresses the importance for authors working in the tie-in field to be creative, and just how this field quite literally forces one to be far more creative than other avenues of the literary world - working within a tie-in universe has many constraints, and especially something with Star Wars, the challenges in putting together a book are far more frequent.

In a recent blog entry on her website, Traviss announced that she was going to be moving on from the Star Wars universe. The reasons that she listed are mainly that the established story lines that she's put into place over the past couple of books, and with the new Clone Wars series, there will be conflicts with the higher up canon within the universe. While I'm happy that she isn't going to be changing over a couple of the story lines and screwing things up more for the literature people to argue about, I'm a little annoyed that she's throwing in the towel, because she's one of the better writers to have come to the Star Wars universe in a while.

I have to wonder if there's more at play here. Traviss is clearly aware of the limitations that are placed upon her as a writer, and that the story lines that she comes up with - original within the universe it might be - but essentially, they're hers to come up with, not to totally own. Therein lies the big difference, I think, between tie-in fiction and an author's original story: ownership. There are limitations to what you can do with a story that you don't own, even if you're given relatively free rein, because the higher ups at LFL can do pretty much whatever they want in the universe, no matter how it tramples on other stories. This was a big issue that a lot of the books and authors had to dance around prior to the prequel trilogy. Authors who got it wrong, got it wrong, and these are bits of the books that fans will endlessly argue over.

When it comes to tie-in fiction, and the ownership distinction, I'm a little baffled at this sort of distinction - if it is just ownership that separates the two (I think that it is), at least on an academic level, why is it that people take such notice and relegate the significance? I think the answer there lies in precisely why I think that Karen's books are a step above, say someone like Max Allen Collins or Keith R.A. DeCandido - the writing style, attention to the story and the focus on the story over a mere paycheck is the deciding factor (Not to say that these guys only write for the money). Traviss's books are different because there is the attempt to make these books a real reading experience, while other times, I get the impression that other authors don't care nearly as much, and essentially are just trying to pay the bills. Whether this is intentional or not, I don't know, but as a reader, I appreciate being able to read a story that is more than the screenplay. If I wanted that, I would just go see the film.

Really, the ownership issue is a really minor one - it all comes down to the one thing that I continue to gripe about, and that's the story, story, story. The reason why tie-in fiction is disliked and looked down upon is the long bibliography of less than stellar, and if Karen's example is anything to go by, the number of restrictions and lack of ownership tend to put off other authors who might otherwise write for a franchise. I find that second part a little more sobering than the first, because with more authors willing to write tie-in fiction, the genre as a whole would improve quite a bit.

Substance vs. Style in Science Fiction

Producer Jesse Alexander just wrote up an interesting guest column on website io9 recently, (which you can read here), where he talks about a couple of subjects that I've been thinking about lately: the vast difference between substance and visual appeal of the science fiction genre, particularly in movies.

In his piece, he notes that CGI-laden blockbusters have really taken over the movie theaters over the summer season, almost completely. This past summer, we've had Terminator 4, Transformers 2, GI Joe, Star Trek, and Harry Potter all costing in the hundreds of millions of dollars to produce from beginning to end, none of which were really all that great, while the two standout movies in the SF genre were Moon and District 9, both of which cost $5 million and $30 million to create, respectively. This begs the question, as Alexander does, where did these two films succeed where the others failed.

The above films all did really well at the box office, grossing back quite a bit of money (although Terminator: Salvation did pretty poorly, but it will warrant a sequel, if the rumors are to be believed) but of everything that was released this summer, only Moon and District 9 really captured the essence of science fiction on all levels. They were wholly original, influences aside, and are the ones that have come out of this summer that will be remembered for a long time as solid entries in the genre's film side of things.

One of the things that charges are laid against is the use of CGI in films, which has become far more sophisticated and prevalent in films, especially science fiction films. I'm not totally sure that CGI is really the thing to blame here, but the effect that it has on filmmaking and the entire process. CGI is a fantastic tool for filmmakers, especially in the science fiction field. The problem comes when the glamor and expanded visual field overtakes the story in terms of importance.

For me, story is everything with a film or television show, and the Science Fiction genre is a fantastic place for any number of possible stories. There have been a number of fantastic films out there that I can put forward as an example for good storytelling: Minority Report, The Prestige, Serenity, The Fountain, Pan's Labyrinth, and of course, Moon and District 9. These movies utilized special effects throughout, but did so in a way that didn't jeopardize the story to the extent that other films might have. A couple of television shows, such as Battlestar Galactica and Firefly have followed much the same philosophy with their approaches to CGI: the visuals are placed in the film/show to support the events in the story.

My favorite example is 2005's release of Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith and Serenity. Both films with significant fanbases, but with very different approaches to the stories. Serenity was a much smaller film, with a killer story to finish up the Firefly TV series, while Revenge of the Sith was a far more bloated and cumbersome film that cost a significant amount of money to produce. Given the financial troubles and uncertainty of the next couple of years, I would bet that that type of filmmaking will continue, but there will be a rise in films such as Moon, Serenity and District 9. Each of these films received a large amount of critical favor, and while none approached the same amount of money that these larger films pulled in, they didn't cost as much as the much larger films.

One thing about these huge CGI films that I noticed is that the ones this summer were already part of a larger storyline or franchise - there were a lot of numbers after the titles, and I have to wonder if that is part of this empty storytelling trend that Science Fiction seems to have picked up over the past couple decades. I don't mind sequels - There's a number of stories out there that I love seeing more of. But, when does a good franchise become a cash cow, with more of the same to it? Transformers was reportedly like that, even up to the director's level, where more of the same, but just more intense was better. Harry Potter has largely been like this from day one, and Star Trek wasn't all that impressive after you started thinking about it. This, to me, is a sad thing for the genre, one that I've always seen as being far more creative than most of the other genres out there, if only for the exotic subject matter.

There are a couple of things that bother me about this sort of thing, mainly that people are more than happy to take any sort of mind-numbing entertainment and expect nothing more. While this is a bit of a leap, it seems like this is a problem that extends far beyond the entertainment realm, from education to politics. Moon and District 9 worked brilliantly together this summer because they were two films that had intelligent plots, good characterization and an unconventional way of presenting the stories. Despite that, I read a number of reviews that noted that the plots didn't make sense, that there weren't enough explosions and the like. These sorts of reviews usually bother me, as they did with reviews about Lev Grossman's The Magicians, where people just didn't, or couldn't understand what the stories were about, and because they didn't like them, refused to think any more about the subject.

What I am hoping will come out of this is that smaller, cheaper, genre films will become more popular, with producers who are willing to take a little more of a gamble. The films this summer proved that filmmakers could get around expensive effects, by using models, preexisting locations and actors who might not necessarily be as well known. If there are any lessons to be learned from this summer, it is that when a good story is in place, the film can succeed toe to toe with any of the big blockbusters. For me, I'm happy that there's something out there that's a little different, a bit challenging and above all, something that makes me think about what I'm watching.

The Mighty Mini: 50 Years and Counting

Fifty years ago today, in 1959, a car arrived that changed the face of motoring, with the unveiling of the Austin 7 (sometimes as Austin SE7EN) and the Morris Minor, best known as the Mini. In that half-century, the Mini has become a popular icon in today's culture, and was ranked by car experts just behind Ford's Model T in terms of overall influence to the motor industry.

The Mini got its start initially with the Suez Crisis, when Egypt nationalized the Suez Canal, restricting traffic and prompting military action from Britain and France. The canal was shut down, and as a consequence, fuel prices in Great Britain rose dramatically. The British Motor Corporation (BMC) chairman, Leonard Lord, asked designer Alexander Issigonis to design a small car as soon as possible. The events of the Suez Crisis only underscored the need for such a vehicle, as it was becoming apparent that larger cars that used more fuel could become very impractical in the country.

The car had only one specification: a preexisting motor had to be used, in order to cut down on costs. Issigonis opted for several other requirements: the car had to be no longer than ten feet long, four feet high, requiring the designer to maximize space inside for passengers to be comfortable. This prompted several innovations that are now widespread in the industry. The engine was mounted sideways, in the front, which allowed for the driver and passenger in front to be as far forward as possible. The wheels were in the corners of the car, and because of the size and weight, it could go rather fast - new tires had to be designed for the vehicle. The trunk could be loaded with the tailgate down for more space. The result was a car that was small, fast, minimal and above all, fairly cheap.

Just after it's release on August 26th, 1959, the Mini's sales were, well, mini. The car didn't do very well in the market, with fairly slow sales, against the larger, more flashy cars from the United States, and consumers at the time saw a small car for a very small price, and because of that, were wary of the quality of the car, as well as its very basic approach to things. (The original cars didn't have radios, rollup windows or other things that Issigonis felt distracted from driving).

However, sales began to pick up when icons in popular culture began to buy the car. Members of the Royal family bought the Mini, as well as pop stars such as members of the Beatles and so forth. Between 1959 and 1960, production went from just under 20,000 vehicles to over 100,000, and sales increased from there. In 1961, racing car designer John Cooper collaborated with Issigonis and came up with the Mini Cooper, a racing version of the car, to much success, and a Mini Cooper S version was created in 1963.

Another element of visibility for the little car was its performance in some of the bigger races, beginning in 1963, and in 1964, with Paddy Hopkirk's victory at the Monte Carlo rally. (Incidentally, the British television show Top Gear refurbished Hopkirk's Mini Cooper S as part of a phone in vote, Restoration Ripoff a couple years ago, which speaks to the popular nature of the car.) The Mini became a contender in the racing world after that point, with its agility and speed. Top Gear did a short video on the history of British Touring Car Racing (BTC), which you can see here.

The Mini had made it's mark, and the BMC continued the car by expanding its brand in a way that really hasn't been seen with a number of other cars. In 1969, the Mini Clubman was introduced, a longer version of the Mini, while its height and wheel base remained the same. By this point, the original Mini had sold over a million units, and by 1975, it had surpassed three million units. Between the 1960s and 1980s, the original version was updated a couple more times, and several additional variations were introduced, such as the Mini Van, the Moke and the Estate, but none had the lasting appeal of the original Mini.

The Mini was built through the 1990s, when it was phased out in the year 2000. In 2001, BMW brought back the Mini under the moniker, MINI, with a Mini One, Mini Cooper and Mini Cooper S, to great success. In the years since, the company has reintroduced the Mini Clubman, and today, on its 50th birthday, unveiled a Mini Coupe Concept, which you can see here. There is an additional version in the works, set to be released sometime next year, called the Mini Countryman or Crossover.

In 1969 the Mini Cooper's enduring influence in popular culture was further cemented with the release of The Italian Job, starring Michael Caine and Noël Coward. The film is centered around a gold heist by a group of thieves, who use a trio of Mini Coopers as an integral part of the heist. The cars were the true stars of the film, with one of the best car chases that I've ever seen. The cars were used once again in the movie The Bourne Identity, with another exciting car chase. With the introduction of the new Mini Cooper to the public, a remake of The Italian Job, featuring the updated Mini Coopers, was released in 2003, and was the highest grossing film for Paramount Pictures in that year. Once again, the Mini Coopers were the stars of the film. A Rebel Without Pause, a short film done by BMW looks into the popular culture aspect of the Mini.

This is where I was introduced to the Mini Cooper, and I remember pretty clearly when I first fell in love with the car. I was in my 3rd or 4th year of working at YMCA Camp Abnaki, and on a weekend trip, I caught a ride in with a group to the theaters, where I saw the Italian Job. The Minis were spunky, quirky and fast, very different than the car that you see every day. I remember thinking: I want one of those cars. Over the next couple of years, I looked at them off and on, until last fall, when I somehow got onto a website selling them, jotted down figures and decided that I could afford a new car to replace my other one. Things were starting to go wrong with that one, and the time was good. I went out and after test-driving a couple, I found my own one, and bought it that weekend, learning to drive a manual transmission along the way.

One of the things that I'm most impressed with, looking over the history of the Mini, is the appeal to popular culture that the car has endured over the years. It has been part of movies, of celebrities and races, and it turns heads where ever it goes. The interesting thing that I see is that Mini has become a brand, something that hasn't really been done with a number of cars. There is an enduring Mini-look that is easily adapted to other vehicles, such as the Clubman, the Countryman, Traveler, pickup, Cooper, etc. This helped with the re-launch of the brand, which has made it so popular in recent years. When I drive along, I see other Mini drivers who wave, and the like, which is something that the company has capitalized on with their marketing, and far beyond just building a car, have built an entire community of people who have something in common. That sounds a bit dopey, honestly, but it's true - I've never felt any sort of connection to fellow Chevy Prism or Toyota Camry owners, that I have with the Mini.

I absolutely love my car, as I've written about before. The entire experience of driving it differs from anything that I've driven before, and I often will break out into a grin when I'm driving along. I love throwing Maxine into corners at speed, accelerating along straits and simply enjoying owning a car. I don't believe that a car should be boring, or simply just to go from point A to B during commutes. That just seems dull, and that just seems like a waste.

Happy Birthday Mini. Here's to another 50 years.