Going down to Zedtown

(Disclaimer: the following is written entirely from my point of view. Any and all inaccuracies, misconceptions and typos are mine.)

Rumours swirl of dark events in the city. The CDCP have set up quarantine zones throughout the area, but are denying anything is wrong. Whispers speak of the walking dead and other, darker, creatures. The Apocalypse has come, but will you survive the night? Gather your comrades and load your weapons amigo, and welcome to Zedtown.

Zedtown is an 850 player zombie apocalypse Nerf war that ran at Sydney Olympic Park last Sunday. Basically, it’s a giant game of tag played by adults with toy dart blasters. The basics are as follows: if you shoot a zombie, they have to return to re-spawn. If a zombie tags you, you become one of them. Simple. That’s really all you need to know, though being able to engage the following helps:

Your inner 10 year old.
Your inner paranoid maniac.
The feeling of machismo you get when sugared up and watching 80’s action movies.

At the start of the game, the humans are split into 3 factions (Red, Yellow and Blue), with a small number of zombies released about 20 minutes in.There’s also 3 special zombies, known as Original Zombies, or OZ for short. The OZ’s are special in that they’re in disguise, resembling normal human survivors, and from 5 minutes in can start tagging them and turning them into zombies. This results in Cold War levels of paranoia, with a frantic race to try to identify them being one of the few things that the factions will work together as one to complete. The squad I’d joined up with (Not knowing any other players in my faction) kept weapons trained on me for most of the opening hour (To be honest, I can’t blame them), with a joke from another player almost leading to shots being fired. Nerves were starting to fray early. This event had introduced survivor vs survivor fire, which seemed to work well, despite some complaints leading up to it. (Basically, if you got shot by another human, you had to go back to your faction’s base to respawn.) It added an extra element of ‘Humans are dicks and will fuck each other over happily!’ when the sensible response is to combine forces and fight as one. Maybe next event…

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The pre game briefing, shortly before all hell broke loose.

I’m now horribly tempted to sign up as an OZ for a future event and keep myself hidden until about an hour to go. Rest assured I’m not actually going to, cause that shit takes effort and I have a horrible poker face (Seriously, I’m an awful gambler – even in video games). But the looks on people’s faces if you could pull that off would be magnificent.)

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Who else would you trust to save the planet?

Other random moments of awesome: Incredibly Shouty Guy and his slightly quieter counterpart, Slightly Less Shouty Guy Who’d Lost His Voice. The incredibly efficient Russians and Red Berets. Walking with a horde of zombiers to the last enclave of survivors chanting “ONE OF US!” The observation from a squad member that the factional conflict is showing us how racism works (We hadn’t met them and already hated Blue and Yellow) and discussing whether hiking up my kilt at zombies would break the rules (Yes, I was wearing underpants. I don’t kilt up without them, no matter how much my wife complains) The Holly Jolly Christmas Squad (Who attended the previous game dressed as the Brides from Mad Max: Fury Road), and the dancing zombie with a speaker on his back (I’m guessing in homage to Doof Zombie from the last event who apparently had thrown his back out and couldn’t attend). Escorting a zombie close to our base who claimed to want to talk peace. It was an interesting idea (Leaving aside the whole ‘zombies wanting peace thing’ which was pretty bloody weird), but an NPC corporate exec shot him, so that idea went down the gurgler pretty quick. And at some point I’ll make it out to investigate the bar that’s hidden somewhere in the play area.

Survivors, strut!

FUN FACT: We also discovered that yelling “WOAH” repeatedly and randomly pointing guns at people is an impressive distraction tactic.

At first, the zombies are seen in small groups, and a group of survivors who don’t panic can deal with them without too much trouble. There’s also the Witch, a fearsome creature considered unkillable (Rumours persisted she could be pacified with sugar, with our faction being issued with fun size Snickers bars just in case). Initially restrained by the CDCP (You could go visit the cage she was in!), she broke free about halfway through the day and roamed the grounds, a terrifying scream announcing her presence. She swiftly became an object of such fear that large groups of players would simply run rather than confront her, which worked wonderfully. Case in point: late in the game (After I’d become a zombie) we were pursuing a large group of players who’d formed a defensive line. It was Mexican standoff time and all we needed was the guy who’d been whistling the theme to ‘The Good, the Bad and the Ugly’ to turn up to help soundtrack things. Then one of our group screamed and the players (Who had been looking rather cocky up till that point) broke and ran immediately. Causing fear is a wonderful thing.

The CDCP and their… creation.

It’s when the numbers start getting higher (And they do) that things start to tip in the zombies favour. Watching the survivor count, or the faces of other players, drop when the count is announced get’s tense. In fact, it’s remarkable easy to buy into the whole experience – at a certain point it stops being a game and turns into a desperate life or death struggle, albeit one that we all survive. And that’s even before it got dark, which amped up the paranoia even further. Walking through the stadium watching over the group planting beacons, then hearing the zombies scream over the other side was a real “oh, bugger” moment. It was shortly after that when I got tagged, while hiding behind a fence. I was a bit miffed, but I’d laster till nightfall, much farther than I’d expected to get, so I was well chuffed.

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In all fairness, if you thought she was coming round the corner, you’d run too.

FUN FACT: Cowardice and unfitness is a remarkably useful survival strategy! Not a good or efficient one, but it worked well for me.

From 850 survivors at the start, only 13 brave and lucky souls made it out to be evacuated. A mere 13. Around 48 made it out of the last event, and that only had 700 players. The Blue and Yellow bases both fell relatively early (I believe it was still light – I didn’t spend much time at Blue), and there seemed to be a last stand late at the Red base, but I was walking back to the re-spawn area and missed it. It was a glorious day, albeit one that my legs are still complaining about.

Looking to survive the next event? Here’s some tips that may help you!*

Comfortable footwear. I can’t stress this enough. Comfy shoes are a must, even before weapons. You can make it through the day with minimal firepower, but you still need to be able to move.
Bathrooms. Shelter is useful, as are comrades who’ll watch your back. But knowing a safe spot to pee is incredibly useful. Even more so when you badly need to and realize the closest toilet is in enemy territory.
Comfortable costume. It will be hot, you will be running. Being decked out in masses of camo gear may feel awesome, but there’s no point in wearing it if you’re going to melt. I can’t throw stones though, as I (For reasons unknown but I’m claiming awesome) decided to wear a kilt. Why? Breeze. Breeze is good.
Stake out sources of water and food. Ideally, you’ll have a bottle of water (Which you’ll need) and some snacks in a back pack, but more never hurts. Don’t forget though: the zombies also know this.

As for weapons, there’s two main schools of thought on this. The first is pack a pistol, maybe a small rifle and go lightly armed, relying on stealth, speed and cunning. The second is to tool up with the largest most intimidating blaster you can find, carry enough ammo to last you through a small war (Or a Schwarzenegger film) and spend the day quoting Jesse Ventura from Predator. Both schools of thought have their adherents and it’s not up to me to pass judgement. I prefer to run lightly armed myself, mainly because I’m lazy and unfit and prefer to have less stuff to carry to and from the event. Whatever works for you and, more importantly, let’s you feel like the lead in your own action movie.

There’s no word on the next event, but I’m itching for it. One of the housemates and I are planning to costume like we’re in a spaghetti western. Between us we should be able to handle a fistful of zombies…

NOTE: All photos were taken from the Zedtown Facebook page.

*Tips may not actually help. I claim no responsibility if my advice get’s you tagged in the first 30 minutes.

On workplace decorum

Things I have almost yelled at work: “Hey, it’s Bargearse!”

The long version: a recent promo for Brooklyn Nine-Nine used the theme from Bargearse and it took a lot of willpower not to call attention to it, at volume. However, given the A: age and B: comedic taste of my coworkers, I elected not to. Probably for the best that.

For those unfamiliar with early 90’s ABC comedy shows, here’s the saga in all it’s flatulent glory:

Bond, James Bond…

Musing recently about the lack of an Assassin’s Creed style James Bond game (How has this not been done already?), the thought, as my brain frequently does, turned to LARP. What followed was a couple of minutes of brainstorming with a housemate and a train ride or two of writing.

1: SPECTRE

It’s that time of year when Number 1 summons all of SPECTRE’s top brass for the annual meeting. Sadly, owing to the activities of a certain British secret agent who shall remain nameless (*cough* Danger Mouse! *cough*), things aren’t looking too good. Can you wheedle enough cash/resources/favours out of the other top brass in time to please Number 1? Perhaps you’ve been skimming and need to get some fast cash, dislike another boss enough to frame them to want to move up the pecking order or are you just James Bond in disguise?

So, what sort of shenanigans can SPECTRE’s top brass get into before Number 1 show’s up? Each member will have a different area of expertise (Smuggling, trafficking, extortion etc) and a certain amount of resources. Naturally, everyone is running short on something and everyone should have something the other wants. Oh, and evereyone hates each other. No honour among thieves after all.

2: PRE CREDIT’S SEQUENCE

Obviously/sadly most LARP’s won’t have the resources to build a lair in a hollowed out volcano, but the pre credits scene from Goldfinger, something resembling that is more doable. What follows is a 10-20 player NERF war scenario.

In short: M has ordered James Bond to blow up a SPECTRE facility, preferably without being detected. Runs should be from 10-20 minutes each (Depending on the venue size), with Bond’s player changing each time.

1 player is James Bond, everyone else is a SPECTRE mook. Bond must infiltrate the enemy base, plant the explosives and get out unseen. He has a silenced* pistol with 2 full loads of ammo, the explosives he needs (Set to a short timer), and his wits. His pistol will kill anything in one shot (No matter where it hits), but he has limited ammunition and probably be shouldn’t be pissing about trying to kill everyone he can when there’s women with sexual innuendo based names he could be trying to seduce. Priorities right?

The mooks start out unaware of Bond and wander the area at random. They can be taken out either with pistol fire, or by incapacitating them with either a tap on the shoulder (Simulating the Bond/Shatner/3^rd Doctor shoulder chop) or by wrapping something soft around their throat from behind – maybe crepe paper or a sock, this takes them down immediately. Bond’s player can drag them into cover if they wish (with the help of the knocked out player). Any mook dragged into a bush must hide and can give no information if found by other players.

The mooks all carry machine pistols (fly wheel guns, in order to distinguish themselves from Bond’s gun). There are several alarms bells scattered throughout the map, as well as the location that Bond has to set the explosives at, which will change with each run. (This is done to stop sneaky players noting where everything is in order to help themselves along.) All mooks will know where the alarms are– if the alarm bell is rung all mooks should head towards the alarm area.

(Whether or not Bonds player wants to wear a tux underneath their spy clothes isn’t necessary, but is highly encouraged.)

The difficulty could be boosted by adding more mooks, shortening the time or allowing them to make a loud gurgling sound when taken down. Alternatively, you could add a SPECTRE assassin stalking Bond (See the opening scenes of From Russia with Love), or another freakish henchman such as Oddjob or Jaws. I’ve not seen a LARP safe version of Oddjob’s hat, but I’m sure one could be worked up.

*Obviously we can’t fully silence a Nerf gun, but between the mooks having motorised guns and playing dumb, we should be able to represent it.

I bloody love Black Sabbath

Yeah, I’d like to be able to say something profound or mind altering, something that would help heal the sick, help the poor and win the war on terror, but sometimes all you can do is express your love for a band. (Actually, that’s something I do frequently, but that’s beside the point) I recently re-purchased their first album and listening to it again reminded of just how damn good this band is. (Yes, I consider it the first metal album – Purple and Zeppelin come close, but none are more black than Sabbath) It’s hard for me to imagine how much of an impact that thing must have made when it first appeared all those years ago. I first heard it many years back (On vinyl no less!) and it scared the heck out of me. I thought myself familiar with all things metallic (Being young and ignorant), but that thing genuinely unnerved me, in a way I’d not felt since I saw Who Framed Roger Rabbit.*

I could talk for hours about the guitar work of Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler (Bass) and Bill Ward (Drums) are one of the greatest rhythm sections ever to take the stage and there’s Ozzy. By all rights, a voice like that should work, especially not not compared to the metal singers to follow him. For someone who helped birth a genre, he sure doesn’t sound like those who came after. It’s a voice like no other, thin and kinda whiny, nothing like the leather lunged screamers like Rob Halford or Bruce Dickinson or the more guttural technique of Tom Araya or Chuck Billy.

I’m not a musician, so I can’t discuss musical technique or theory. Yeah, Iommi strings his guitars differently after his accident (That cost him several fingertips on his fret hand) but I’m stuffed if I can work out how it makes his playing different. I don’t know how to explain what they do, but what I do know is this: IT’S FUCKING AWESOME. I’m sure you’ve heard Iron Man thanks to it’s inclusion in the MCU,but there’s more, far more to them. There’s the rumble of bass that opens Children of the Grave, the 7 minutes of DOOM that is War Pigs, the solo in Wheels of Confusion or the opening of Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, a guitar riff that can LEVEL CITIES. Don’t believe me? Listen and BE PROVED WRONG. Just reinforce your house first.

I didn’t see them when they toured on the 13 album a couple of years back, lack of funds and the public slanging match between Osbourne and Ward put me off. I did however get to see the lineup led by Ronnie James Dio (Who joined after Osbourne was fired) in 2007 and it was one of the greatest nights of my life, even with the idiot a few rows over who spent the whole show screaming for Paranoid. You’re up in the nose bleeds of the Entertainment Center – do you really think the band are going to hear you? The best part was when someone finally explained the band would only play Dio era material and he started yelling for Holy Diver. *sigh*

I guess my final words (For know) are this. Ignore the mud slinging and public wars of words, the reality TV show and every word that Sharon Osbourne ever says. Just listen to the music. It’s more than worth your time and the damage to your hearing.

*It’s been at least 25 years and I still refuse to watch that film again. I am unashamed of that fact.

Musings

There are many things that annoy me.

Some have said too many things, and I’d agree with that. I also agree with the people who think I should see someone about this, to try to identify the cause and maybe help me mellow a little. But, no matter what I do, I can’t help having to restrain myself from a ‘Malcolm Tucker meets the Hulk’ level of grand fury (Also a great album by The Bellrays) upon seeing a badly stacked dishwasher full of un-rinsed dishes. We all have our irrational hatreds…

In other thoughts, a question that’s been plaguing me of late: ‘How is Mark Gatiss’s work on Sherlock so good, and yet his Doctor Who’s are so average?’ Yes, I’m one of the few that are on record as enjoying Victory of the Daleks and Dame Diana Rigg’s scenery chewing in The Crimson Horror was a delight, but that’s balanced by the relative blandness of The Idiot’s Lantern and Robot of Sherwood. No, I don’t think Robot was as bad as some say (It’s no Fear Her or The Time Monster), but I’d put money on it working better for Matt Smith’s Doctor. I’ve really enjoyed Capaldi’s Doctor, even when the stories haven’t been as good. I won’t go into spoiler territory (As my wife will read this and she’s not caught up yet), but I think this year has gone really well, despite an un-named recurring monster still not getting very much to do despite great hope.

There’s also the whole ‘everyone has heard of the Doctor and seems to worships him’ aspect, which has mercifully been cut back of late. I don’t know exactly why it irritates me, but it does. That may be due to my increasing hostility (To further escalate the hyperbole) to the Tenth Doctor, or I’m just a cranky old git. It’s a combination of Russell T Davies not being able to write a season ender if his life depended on it (See Last of the Time Lords or Journey’s End) and the way that Tennant’s Doctor was being written (Tooth and Claw and The Shakespeare Code come to mind first). People have died, many of them messily and horribly, and you’re joking about getting the Queen to say ‘We are not amused’? Fuck you. Another script run through might have picked that up a bit – it also could have made Nightmare in Silver a bit less shit (It was well acted for the most part, but I hated those two children).

I guess I just prefer the ‘mysterious stranger arrives and horrible stuff happens’ approach to the show, cause there’s more, well, mystery. (Yes, very fucking profound) It’s the era I grew up with (I have a weird mishmash of the 7^th and 4^th Doctor themes in my head and can still remember my first cliff-hanger – Ep 1 of The Deadly Assassin) and that I identify most with. Mind you, as my wife pointed out, with her wonderful knack for irritating logic, the former is a natural consequence of the latter, so yes. (I still have hope that someday I’ll win one of those arguments, despite all evidence to the contrary.)

I still remember the feeling of ‘what the hell is this?’ when I saw that moment…

Lastly, I’ve been contemplating joining another LARP and the system has all but guaranteed I’m going to play Rogues and nothing but Rogues. Why? Because the damage system requires the player to call “Sneak Attack” before striking and being a long-time fan of the webcomic The Order of the Stick, that’s an opportunity I can’t pass up. Ah, so you’re distracted by reading this are you? SNEAK ATTACK!

You Rebel scum…

So yeah, it’s been a while… *cough*

It’s been an amazing week for nostalgia, with the re-release of classic space combat games X-Wing and TIE Fighter. My response to this has ranged from an initial scream of HOLY ZARQUON SINGING FISH to having to restrain myself from squealing with joy (Hey, I was at work) to walking round with a grin on my face so wide that it threatened to snap my face in half. And this is in the same week that Captain Marvel and Black Panther movies got announced, so it’s not like I’m short of geekgasm.

That’s basically how I looked when I first saw the press release.

Those games are a massive part of my adolesence, since it’s not like I was doing things like partying, drinking or spending time with the fairer sex. Ahem… X-Wing let me live out a childhood dream of taking part in the attack of the first Death Star, which I then never managed to complete owing to it being ludicrously difficult. TIE Fighter, on the other hand, was where I took my first steps on the dark path and found that playing the bad guys can be incredibly fun. (See the TV show Leverage for more of that) It also had several features that X-Wing lacked, such as backing up your scores if you got killed, being able to match speed with your target and the TIE Defender, the most broken Starfighter EVER. You also got a second campaign, where if you talked a with a mysterious Cloaked Figure, and completed a bunch of hidden objectives, you got an awesome tattoo slowly branded on your arm by FORCE LIGHTNING, a tattoo that I’m unashamed to admit I wanted badly when I was 14, and still do a little at 34.

See – told you it was awesome.

Just flying a TIE Fighter itself was amazing – the sound of the things is practically engraved on my eardrums. Hell, the only reason I’m writing this and not playing the games is my lack of a joystick, something I intend to rectify over the weekend. Then I’ll be 14 again, it’ll be back to my youth, or at least the bits of it I actually like remembering. Now, if they can also re-release X-Wing vs TIE Fighter and X-Wing Alliance, then I may be so happy the universe will shatter.

PS: I still want one of the Imperial Officer uniform caps, despite the fact I’m sure I’d look ludicrous in it. But I did once buy a pair of WW2 flying goggles solely to wear to a Crimson Skies Clix tourney, so I have some history in that department.

The Babylon Project: Part 1

It was the dawn of the third age of mankind, ten years after the Earth/Minbari war. The Babylon Project was a dream given form. Its goal: to prevent another war by creating a place where humans and aliens could work out their differences peacefully. It’s a port of call, home away from home for diplomats, hustlers, entrepreneurs, and wanderers. Humans and aliens wrapped in two million, five hundred thousand tons of spinning metal, all alone in the night. It can be a dangerous place, but it’s our last best hope for peace. This is the story of the last of the Babylon stations. The year is 2258. The name of the place is Babylon 5.

Ahem. As a large component of this blog is me yelling at you about things I love (Or it would be if I posted more often), I’m going to take you through one of my favourite shows, Babylon 5. I’ll try to avoid spoilers where I can and I’m also not going to touch on the whole ‘Which came first?’ issue with B5 and Star Trek: Deep Space 9. Suffice to say that issue has kept internet message boards flaming for years, with the two fandoms openly hostile, something that helped prompt Majel Barrett Roddenberry (Widow of Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry) to appear during season 3, as a gesture of goodwill to calm things. More about that later…

Beautiful ain’t it?

The show was planned around a 5 year arc, unlike much episodic TV at the time. There’s no end of episode reset button either – events carry on, relationships mend and fracture and plot points from early episodes can and do come back. Yes, this means you have to watch it all, just in-case you miss an obscure bit of plot. It also has an impressive knack for quality, even if the A plot of the episode is a bit weak, the B plot will make up for it. This also got us genuine character development – look at the evolution of Londo and G’Kar over the 5 seasons and the changes are astounding. Oh, and in another important distinction from Star Trek, humanity are still frequently a bunch of dicks. There’s none of the utopian society hippie nonsense from the 60’s, just humanity – flawed and emotional, as capable courage, compassion and acting like total *bleeps* in equal measure. All that and the station has toilets and the uniforms have pockets!

The main cast of season 1

I was introduced to the show around the time season 5 began airing, which left me with a lot of questions, not all of which could be answered without spoilers. It took a few episodes, but I was soon hooked. I also have the show to blame for my love of the mandarin collar and for almost any foreign accent I do to turn into Londo Mollari within about 30 seconds. (My wife thinks it’s a great impression by the way) It’s near unique in that its creator J. Michael Straczynski (AKA JMS or the Great Maker if you’re being formal) wrote 92 out of the shows 110 episodes –including all of seasons 3-5, bar 1 episode and that was written by some guy named Neil Gaiman. (Fun Fact: He got an an alien race in the show named after him!) It also had ships that obeyed the rules of physics in space (And the Starfury is a beautiful thing), the first large scale use of CG in televison and a wonderful knack for episode titles – Parliament of Dreams, And the Sky Full of Stars, The Geometry of Shadows and Ceremonies of Light and Dark to mention but a few.

The Star Fury – almost as cool as the X-Wing and scientifically accurate to boot!

The titular station is the fifth of the Babylon stations, intended as a diplomatic outpost in the wake of the Earth-Minbari war, which started thanks to the mother of all diplomatic SNAFU’s and ended in mystery, with the Minbari surrendering on the verge of victory. Why? That would be telling… As for the station’s name, that’s simple – it’s the fifth of the Babylon stations. The first 3 stations were destroyed by sabotage and the fourth, well that’s an interesting story…

In true SF tradition, each of the races has a distinguishing feature – the Narns are lizards, the Minbari have bones coming out of the backs of their heads and the Centauri have some of the most awesome hair ever seen. One of the things that JMS was striving to avoid was the rubber forehead look so common to TV aliens and for the most part he succeeded. Perhaps the greatest example of thing was Vorlon ambassador Kosh, who resided in a sealed encounter suit and spent his time being mysterious.

The Jukebox. (Kids, ask your parents)

So, I’m giving you a brief look at big episodes season by season. We’ll try to avoid spoilers, but some minor ones may slip past, more so as we move into the later seasons. It’s an average first season, containing more than a few of the standard SF tropes (Alien martial arts tournament, rubber suit monster etc), but those episodes are saved by either the B plot (As previously discussed) or by dropping hints at future events. Yeah, the CG is dated, but this was done 20 years ago on a tiny budget (Rumor has it roughly the half of an episode of Star Trek, but what shines are the story and character, something it shares with classic Doctor Who. And there was a rumour that JMS wanted to hire Tom Baker to appear in his Doctor Who costume in the background of an episode…

I’m bypassing the pilot movie, (The Gathering), mainly because I don’t own it. Instead, we kick off with the first episode aired, MIDNIGHT ON THE FIRING LINE:

Well, it’s a pilot, and as pilots go it’s not bad. We meet our main cast (Well, most of them), get a fair whack of exposition (The Narn and Centauri hate each other while the Vorlons take cryptic to new levels) and the scene is set for the show. I’ve seen better pilots and I’ve seen worse. Still, the payoff for the running gag about Garabaldi’s (second) favourite thing in the universe is magnificent.

MIND WAR:

Wait, is that Mr Chekov dressed in black? Why yes, that is Walter Koenig and he’s fantastic. We know human telepaths exist (As they do in several of the others races), but it’s our first look at their governing body, the Psi Corp and well, they dress in facist black. What were you expecting, pastels?

SIGNS AND PORTENTS:

The episode that gave the season it’s title, the first time we meet Mr Morden and the first major revelation of what was to come. And it all starts with a simple question, just 4 little words: “What do you want?”

A VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS PARTS 1 AND 2:

Londo Mollari reciting the Hokey Pokey. There’s a hell of a lot that goes on in the two-parter, with some great revelations and future events hinted at, but really, what more do you need?

BABYLON SQUARED:

One of the great mysteries of the show is answered (Well, sort of…) and more questions are asked, which is what happens when you involve time travel. We also meet Zathras and to hive any hints as t what I’m talking about would be criminal.

CHRYSALIS:

The first season finale, in which a conspiracy is unearthed, Ambassador Delenn embarks on an alternative lifestyle and a whole lot of stuff happens. There is happiness and doom in equal measure and a dark cloud on the horizon, with none of that ‘everything wrapped up nicely’ BS, cause that’s not what this show is about.

And so we come to the end of season 1. Uneven and in some places down right terrible (TKO, I’m looking at you) in places, but worthy of praise, it did it’s job of introducing characters and hinting at things to come pretty well. What really makes it was when you’d seen the entire show and realised just how much of the ground was laid during season 1.

So, what does Ambassador Kosh actually look like? What the hell happened to Delenn? What is this mysterious new enemy? Some of these questions may be answered soon, when we look at season 2, The Coming of Shadows…

WHO’S USELESS NOW?

We’re a bit short this week, as I’ve been busy being gainfully employed. Naturally, this has curtailed the amount of time I can spend writing for you, but A: they pay me and B: I have an ID photo that’s not too bad, which is a nice change for me, given that my driver’s license makes me look like I’m about to commit an act of jihad. (ASIO, I’m joking. Please don’t break down my door)

Anyhow, we’re here to talk about one particular item of news. You might say there’s been a deluge on this subject, possibly a flood or maybe a drenching. Certainly a shower, or maybe an oversaturation. Calling it a tsumani is more than a bit tacky, but it’s certainly more than a drizzle.

What could have produced such an ocean of watery attempts at humour? Well, it’s finally been confirmed that Jason Momoa is playing Aquaman in Batman vs Superman. As you remember, it was rumoured a few months back, but no-one had the decency to actually confirm anything until now. As far as I’m concerned, this is a really good thing – Momoa’s a fine actor who has the physicality to pull it off. That and given his early stint on Baywatch Hawaii, he’s used to wandering around wearing little, which I’m confident will be part of the marketing. (Look at what Marvel did with Thor for starters…)

My biggest worry is that Snyder will GRIMDARK it up, also my biggest complaint about Man of Steel – Superman walking the Earth to find himself was an interesting interpretation, but the orgy of destruction that was the end of the film just didn’t seem right to me. That’s not what I go to see a Superman film for – he’s the guy you look at and think ‘If only more people were like him’, rather than the guy who broke Metropolis. I guess I like seeing heroes who are enjoying themselves, like Chris Evan’s Johnny Storm in the otherwise forgettable Fantastic Four films. That might be my love of Batman: The Brave and the Bold talking, but that show’s Aquaman was amazing. If it’s wrong to want a hero who thinks everything is OUTRAGEOUS, who calls people ‘old chum’ and bursts into song from time to time then I DON’T WANT TO BE RIGHT.

How can you not love that?

That wasn’t the first piece of news though – earlier in the week Zack Snyder was on his way to work and heard two radio DJ’s making fun of Aquaman, so he proceeded to call in to defend him. (It’s worth noting this is pre-announcement, give the ‘Not to say he’s in my movie’ denial) So, Zack Snyder, you had my curiosity, now you have my attention. By way of apology, I take back two of the horrible things I said about Man of Steel!

To top it all off, there’s word that Warners is working on not one but two scripts for an Aquaman solo feature. Apparently, this is to ensure the best quality script while ensuring it meets deadlines, but to me it’s a shitty thing to do to a writer. I get you want to get a movie into production, but making writers compete in some sort of script writing Thunderdome doesn’t guarantee you a better film, just more stress and one guy pissed off his script wasn’t chosen.

Look, I’ve made my fair sure of jokes in the past, when I probably shouldn’t have. As my wife pointed out, Namor doesn’t get jokes made about him, but who outside of comic’s fans has heard of Namor? I guess all I can hope for is the movie takes a character best known for being a joke and make him awesome again, the way he should be. And failing that, I’d be happy with footage of Jason Momoa singing the ‘Rousing Song of Heroism,’ if that’s not too much to ask?

I’ll be singing that for the next week. Pity my housemates.

GABBA GABBA HEY!

Some have asked after reading my recent piece on the Ramones for more on just why this band means so much to me. Well, be careful what you wish for.

Firstly, I stand by my original recommendation, which is go out, buy the first 4 albums (Ramones, Leave Home, Rocket to Russia, Road to Ruin) and It’s Alive, then take them home and listen to them, preferably at a police attracting volume. But, since you require more than that before committing your hard earned monies (Sensible in this day and age), then HEY! HO! LET’S GO!

To begin, consider the opening lyrics to Rockaway Beach, from the album Rocket to Russia:

Chewing out a rhythm on my bubblegum.

The sun is out and I want some.

It’s not hard, not far to reach,

We can hitch a ride to Rockaway Beach.

What, you mean you aren’t already sold? Tough crowd you are…

Let’s look at the music then. It’s simple 3 chord rock, with little more than guitars, bass, drums and vocals, played at a speed that may sound tame today, in an era that contains Slayer, but in the mid 70’s was faster than light. Why is this so special? Consider the state of ‘popular’ music. Pro Tools, Auto Tune, an ocean of manufactured pop acts and bands that only exist in the studio (You want to call yourself a musician, you play live) and all those goddamned TV talent shows, stuffed full of people singing the same shitty pop songs and deluded into the belief that they’ll be ‘stars’ for longer than 5 seconds. Yeah, I’m sure they’re lovely people, but I don’t care. It’s that instant stardom mentality that’s destroying music as far as I’m concerned. Anyhow, back to my point. There’s something refreshing about a song that’s nothing more than 3 chords and verse, chorus, verse. Solo’s? Fuck that. Extended instrumental passages? Go away. Virtuosic playing? You must be joking. It’s liberating, inspiring and all those other bullshit motivational words. You didn’t have to sit in your bedroom for fifteen years practising, all you needed was 3 chords and the guts to get onstage and that’s something that’s needed, badly.

It’s no bullshit music, all killer, no filler and even if there’s a song you don’t like, at the speed they play it’s over before you know it. It’s wasn’t any one person, but a mix of all four of them that made the band what it was. Combine Johnny’s ferocious down strumming (Which was basically all he knew how to do on the guitar), Tommy’s rudimentary drumming (He was set to manage the band, until their lack of suitable drummers put him behind the kit), Dee Dee’s autobiographical song writing (53^rd and 3^rd wasn’t just a song…) and Joey’s amazing voice (It should be the dictionary definition of teen angst) and everything just worked, like a musical Frankenstein’s monster, or Voltron.

And they wrote about everything. There were songs about teenage boredom, cretins, loneliness, axe murderers, bizarre family, shock treatment, drugs, violence and other subjects that make for great pop songs. And love. Oh, were there ever love songs… From ‘I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend’ (Fun Fact: that played at my wedding) to ‘She’s a Sensation’, ‘She’s the One’, ‘Oh Oh, I Love Her So’ and ‘I Just Want to Have Something to Do’, which contains possibly the most perfect opening lines in anything*:

Hanging out on Second Avenue,

Eating Chicken Vindaloo.

I just want to be with you,

I just want to have something to do.

But if you really want to know just why I love this band so much, go and listen to Blitzkrieg Bop. That’ll explain it better in 2 minutes than I could given a million years.

*Yes, even Neuromancer.

I sold my soul for rock and roll

“Rock and roll ain’t no riddle man, to me it makes good, good sense”

Truer words have rarely been spoken.

I am, and probably always will be, more than a bit intense about things.

I don’t do casual very well. I was raised in an Anglican household, but left in my early teens. My only memory of church is the look on the face of a clown that was trying to involve me in the day’s games, a look I’d like to say was fear, but was more like “That little prat’s not going to want to do anything.” Religion never did much for me – if more people followed the basic message of ‘Don’t be a dick’ the world would be a much better place, but the higher aspects never interested me. What replaced that in my life was music.

I started slow – I was, and still am to a certain extent, a Dire Straits fan, though I’ve no recollection of how I first heard them. You may laugh (And you’d be entitled to), but I still regard Mark Knopfler’s guitar on Tunnel of Love as a thing of beauty. It was AC/DC that started the path I walk today, when I first heard Who Made Who, then got their Live album as a present later that year, an album that was something of a revelation for me. I stuck with that for a few years before branching out, with detours into Guns and Roses and Nirvana fandom, but there are three bands that stand above all: Iron Maiden (Who I’ve spoke of previously), Radio Birdman and the Ramones. You see, in case you missed the news, Tommy Ramone died recently, which means all 4 of the original line-up are no longer with us. Lymphatic cancer took Joey in 2001, a heroin overdose took Dee Dee, prostate cancer took Johnny in 2004 and now bile duct cancer has taken Tommy. Yes, we still have Marky, CJ and Richie (And Clem, though few talk about him), but all the originals have left us. Numerous end of an era clichés have been banded about, but as much as I hate them, they’re true.

Johnny, Tommy, Joey and Dee Dee

To say the Ramones mean a lot to me is an understatement, like calling invading Russia in a winter a bit of a cockup. I remember an interview with Pete Porker where he said he recalled something from a fanzine, that said “True love is when she means as much to you as the Ramones”, and I’ve basically felt that way since I heard them. From the first seconds of It’s Alive, I knew this was for me. 4 guys, 3 chords, 2 minutes and 1 surname. How can you possibly improve on that?

That band spoke to me in a way that nothing else has – when things were horrible, as they are for all teenagers, the Ramones were there. It was a great purging of emotions, taking all that I felt was shitty in my life and venting that in a blast of audio rage. I can’t claim to have had a shitty childhood (If I could I’d nominate my mother for a well-deserved sainthood), but what teenager doesn’t feel like that at one point or another? You have to have an outlet, and since I wasn’t interested in booze, drugs or God (As almost everyone else I went to high school was), music fitted that quite nicely.

I never got to see them live, the closest I came to that was seeing Marky Ramone in spoken word mode, followed by him drumming with the Spazzys, which was a great show (The story of having to watch Rock and Roll High School to remember making it was a highlight, followed by the random outburst of swearing at a chunk of the audience) It’s not much, but I can say I was in the same room as a Ramone and that’s enough. Hell, during a farewell at my last job I damn near wept when the staff band played Blitzkrieg Bop. Couldn’t help it. Same as when the Dictators played it when they toured in 2003. Couldn’t help it then either.

Live at CBGB’s

I’m too wrapped up in them to try and explain the appeal without you listening to them. I could try, but it’ll be a lot easier if you just go out and buy the first four albums (Ramones, Leave Home, Rocket to Russia, Road to Ruin) and It’s Alive and put them on. It won’t cost you much and will take you less than half a day to listen to, but your life will be all the better for it.

I could (and probably will at some point) go on about some of the other artists who’s work I adore: Radio Birdman’s Radios Appear (Which I listened to for a fortnight straight when I first got it) Sonic’s Rendezvous Band’s City Slang, a song as glorious as the lyrics are changeable or Warren Zevon’s tales of addiction, perfectly coiffed werewolves and headless Thompson gunners. There’s Dub War (and later Skindred’s) ability to take almost every musical genre there is, chuck them in a blender and have music emerge, the about to collapse drug fuelled clatter of the New York Dolls, the effortless brilliance of the Sunnyboys (Who’s Alone With You is up there with Alice Cooper’s I’m Eighteen for best teen angst song ever recorded) or everything about Motorhead, but I’ll spare you. This time…

I guess what I struggle to understand the most is how people aren’t as moved by music as I am. Yeah, I accept that everyone has different taste (the fools), but how you can you not be moved by it? Can you listen to Creeping Death and not want to scream DIE MOTHERFUCKER DIE at the top of your lungs? Does Battle Hymn not want to make you act like Conan the Barbarian (or join a gym)? Can you listen to Tony Iommi’s guitar on Heaven and Hell and not want to weep with joy? Cause if music doesn’t affect you like that, well, you have both my everlasting sympathy and pity. That’s what it does for me and I can’t imagine my life without it.

I suppose I should finish this up, so I’ll leave you with this message: LEMMY IS GOD.

END OF STORY

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Category rambling