Zombies aren't the end of the world, but should be

Given that we've had so many lovely slices of high-profile cannibalism popping up in the news lately (but seriously, it happens more than you think, and the Mayans aren't high-fiving each other right now) I thought it prudent to weigh in on the "zombie" situation a little bit more conversely. Can we really look at zombies conversely? Of course we can. Just do so at a safe distance with a loaded shotgun.

First off, I subscribe to my friend's commentary on the matter: It's not zombies in the news. It's Reavers. Which, granted, doesn't exactly make the whole situation more pleasant to endure, but at the very least you now have ample reason to utilize a southern drawl with your Chinese swearing, don an honest-too-goodness leather duster and boots, and sling around sage wisdom or variations on your intentions to misbehave. I call that a win-win.

Ok. Maybe not absolutely win-win. Close enough.

But just because the real-life zombie apocalypse may not be extremely fucking nigh (to paraphrase the Brits circa 28 days later) doesn't mean we can't take a moment to revel in the glories of the undead. Or at least I will. You can do what you like. It's my blog, and by Romero I will revel in zombiedom if I so wish. Stop judging or I'll down these bath salts and use your face as an aperitif. (Too soon? Probably.)

I'm a well-rounded horror genre fan, but my first love (you always remember your first, right?) is zombie flicks, and that runs the gamut from the quasi-to-literal voodoo variety (in the Hatian vein: White Zombie, I Walked With a Zombie, Plan 9 from Outer Space, Serpent and the Rainbow etc et al) to the current macguffin-esque stand in of the absolute undead (...of the Living Dead series, Zombi, Return of the Living Dead, Re-Animator, Braindead *Dead Alive here in the States, etc etc). I say macguffin, because over the past decade the undead variant of the zombie has gone from Archetype status to trope in so many mediums. What was once equal parts social commentary and nightmare fuel is now relegated to little more than a game type for FPS games.

Even the once-locked down defining traits of the undead zombie are in flux; to be altered and eschewed at the whim of whomever is at the wheel of the hearse, so to speak. Fast zombies. Intelligent zombies. Mutant zombies. General-infected-that-behave-in-a-mindless way so they count as zombies zombies. Not-mindless-but-still-infected-stand-in-antagonists zombies. Take your pick. It may sound fantastic that we're being treated to such a glorious Baskin Robin's of zombie flavors, but I have to be perfectly honest with you: keep your other 30 flavors out of my menu. I really do just want vanilla for a change. Shocking, yes, but let me plead the case for the mundane.

I can't believe it's come to a point where I long for the mundane when talking about zombies.

So I'd like to offer you up my list of what works for me in a Zombie flick; a plea for a return to form. Here are some key things I'd personally like to see, things that should be played out, and things that have just gone one foot-dragging step too far.

1. The story need not be your term paper on psychology or anthropology in a post-apocalypse world.

This is happening way more than it absolutely should. Granted, there are some really choice zombie-centric stories floating about right now (World War Z, The walking Dead, Boneshaker to name a few) and these work even as they tend to re-tread familiar territory concerning humanity versus a zombie apocalypse. You know the gig, right? Well let me spell it out for you in the simplest of terms: Humanity sucks. When the shit hits the fan in the Zed-ocalypse, and then said fan stops working because electricity inevitably becomes a past-tense luxury, we find that humans are the worst enemy to humanity; which is fitting because, let's face it, zombies are US. We find that the threat quickly goes from an external aggressor hungry for our flesh to an internal parade of douchebags who have been given a golden ticket to be more of what they already were.

We. Are. Doomed.

Small aside, I say flesh and not brains because horror fans in the know realize what movie the zombie-to-brain-diet meme came from, and how really niche that concept is overall. I assure you, zombies find the whole of us appealing, and the brain gag was a specific plot point for a very specific group of the undead. Moving on.

Luminaries like Romero combine the whole "humanity is our own worst enemy" idea with a different offering of social satire with every film. Sometimes it is married beautifully (racism/McCarthyism in Night, Commercialism/Mall Culture in Dawn) and sometimes it falls flat (Anti-Bush Administration/Class warfare in Land, Voyeurism/Media Saturation/Us-too Blair Witch/Cloverfield camera work in Diary). Romero's unique, at least to me, in that he obviously sympathizes with the undead, and steers the story in such a way where the viewer finds themselves in the strange position of rooting for the zombies. It's actually a lot of fun and cathartic when he does it right, which says a hell of a lot more about us than we ever really like to contemplate.

So yeah, the focus on the devolution of society can be done, and can be done in an entertaining fashion. That being said, fucking stop it. We get it. We suck. when things go wrong, we find ourselves no better or more civilized than the poor schmucks we're looking down our noses at on the 6 o'clock news after a major hurricane sweeps through. We can plot and plan and fool ourselves from our lofty perch on that high horse about what we'd really do in a zombie-infested world, but the truth of the matter is that horse is the first thing we're grilling up when the twinkies run out. This is the death-knell for good zombie stories when it's played too far. You can keep the elements that work without making it the primary focus. Look at the television version of The Walking Dead. Now do a quick search for meme images of the show. I'll wait.

For those of you refusing to play along, here's a macrame owl. Suffer, you uncooperative asshole.

So, aside from learning that Carl has a rampant case of claustrophobia (as he can not seem to manage just to STAY IN THE FUCKING HOUSE) and that Lori is a horrible parent, you'll notice that the characters have been reduced on all levels down to parody. Why? Because instead of the breakdown of humanity being a story component balanced against the horror aspect of the undead, the show now seems content to make the idiocy and backbiting of the humans the primary focus, with zombie sprinkles. It's a fuck sundae, is what I'm saying. We didn't sign up to eat a fuck sundae- at least I didn't. We came on board for some horror escapism. We already know people are horrible flesh-suits with massive self-preservation complexes that infringe on the very fabric of reality around them. We knew this. We're all students of this philosophy, even when we're not complete misanthropes. I see the greatest horrible hits of The Walking Dead's critique on humanity every day just by being exposed to rush hour traffic.

Look, if I really wanted to spend an hour watching bickering morons with too much time, too many guns, and too little sense fuck up their chances for survival at every turn, I'd just wait for the producers of Jersey Shore to have a psychotic break and lock the cast in a room with crystal meth and loaded Glocks. At least that would be compelling.

Dear sweet cartwheeling Christ... please let this happen.

Zombie media that does the story better without beating an undead horse: Shaun of the Dead, Zombieland. Granted, these are comedies, and they have something to say about the pathos of humanity and blah blah blah, but they mix in some genuinely visceral moments of horror even as they go for the gags. Another good take, though not without flaws (more on that later) is the Dawn of the Dead remake. Here you see the usual breakdown of society, but also shows what can happen with semi-sensible people who can put aside the ugly bullshit and erudition of being human and work together. No, it's not a happy ending, but it doesn't have to be. It's a zombie flick. Give us that in abundance, and save the sprinkles for the characters.

2. Give us our shambling zombies. Stop with the alterations/knock-offs.

Zombies should move at a slow lurching gait at best. I'm setting up the speed limit on zombies, and I plan to enforce that with extreme geeky prejudice.

"Fast" zombies aren't scary to me. They're just not. While I'm not enough of an anal-retentive commentator to wax specifics on anatomy, rigor mortis, putrefaction and decay and their effects on fine motor skills and balance, I am of a mind to bitch about my loathing for the "fast" zombie strain. It's simply silly to me. When I see fast zombies, I'm not chilled. I'm instantly reminded of zombie-themed 5k runs, or at the very worst it looks like a bad night at the goth club when some poor schmuck opens a pack of Djarum Black cigs in a room where everyone else is completely out.

Oh my God! He has CLOVES! Get 'im!

Seriously. We didn't have to improve on the effectiveness of the zombie by giving them the speed boost upgrade. The reason why zombies work so well on their own merits is our deep seeded fear of others- especially in crowds. We've all been there in a mass of people at one point or another; be it a concert, a convention, or just a gathering of people at a protest or large outdoor event. We're surrounded by strangers. We wonder what would happen if the crowd turns ugly. Now consider what would happen if that same crowd turned cannibalistic, and you were suddenly the tastiest looking value meal they've ever seen?

The horror aspect, then, is something that keeps coming; a wall of animate flesh that can not be reasoned with- speed has nothing to do with it. It's the fear that you can keep running, keep shooting, keep bobbing and weaving, but eventually you have to stop and rest. Eventually, the undead will catch up - slowly, inexorably. You will find yourself surrounded and laid siege to. The only way to survive is to either establish some manner of well-stocked fortress, or keep on the move and hope your luck holds out, akin to Easy Rider, only with less Dennis Hopper and more ghoul action.

Bearing that in mind...

Call me a purist. Call me an elitist. I don't care. I'm calling it right now, forever and always: a zombie that is not of the African/Haitian persuasion should be characterized as a reanimated and effectively mindless corpse that seeks out the living to consume them. Period.

28 days/weeks/whatever later = not zombies. Resident Evil 4 = not zombies. Evil Dead 1 and 2 (sorry, but it's true) = not zombies. Omega Man = not zombies. Any instance of a human being turning into a snarling mindless monster without being dead first/ relying on demonic possession or the like = NOT ZOMBIES.

Pictured: Something other than a zombie.

This follows on the same train of thought that brought us fast zombies. People, listen: the saying holds true. Zombies ain't broke as a monster, so don't fix them. If you really need fresh material, the present it in a new context. Change up the locale. Switch up the paradigm. Just leave them be in terms of their basics. You know what happens when you decide to screw with a tried and true monster and it's basic traits?

You get Twilight.

Because sure, THIS worked out supremely fucking well for vamps' street cred, didn't it?

Even if you must push zombies onto the back burner as your primary antagonist/threat, they serve a useful function when left alone; certainly useful enough to meet whatever narrative needs you have. They can be a threat, a goal, a motivation, a danger, a cathartic resolution; all of this while being ambulatory cadavers without any need for mutation, alteration, or dissolution of the lore.

Leave the zombies be. Give us zombies, or try something else. Don't call it what it isn't just to attract the demographic.

4. Less can really be more

This is really more nitpicking than anything else, but it's a hook that really does work. The reason that Romero's "of the Dead" series works so well as a concept is that the catalyst for the zombie outbreak is never really explained. Death has simply said "screw this nonsense" and has taken an extended leave of absence. If you die with your brain intact, you come back. If you get bitten, that only speeds your body's inevitable shutdown, and rebooting of your mental OS to the factory settings of Windows ME.

So, if you have to break it down into pathogen terms, it's not a scenario where the Zombies carry some insidious virus that they transmit to the general population like some Spring Break STD outbreak on crack...

No, seriously. Make this happen. STD's alone should make the CDC jump on this.

...but more of a sickness that's inevitably worse in that you are already infected with it just by being on Earth. Once you die, the final stages of the sickness take it's toll and you pop back up with a serious hard-on for the Atkins Diet: Long Pork Edition. Getting bitten just kicks things into overdrive. The Walking Dead and Shaun of the Dead pull something similar, even with Edgar Wright's playful jab at 28 Days Later about rage-infected monkeys.

Having a man-made origin for the undead is fine. It tracks with the whole "humanity sucks" school of thought, but it can just as easily defeat it's own purpose by choking the narrative with that philosophy, or present an 'apocalypse" that's really just an outbreak waiting for a cure. That's fine if that's your overall endgame/goal/deus ex machina for the story you're trying to present, but let me extol the virtues of the supernatural/simplified/unexplained for a bit here.

Origin stories can be fantastic. Origin stories can be necessary, especially with Horror. They can also be an albatross around the neck of your zombie tale. The why of it only becomes important, at least to me, if there is an endgame to that WHY. If you're more concerned with the survival aspect, social commentary, or the end of all things (TM Howard Shore) then it really doesn't matter what scientific malfeasance unleashed the undead on us. Can we fix it? No? Then bugger off and find me more shotgun rounds. Try something new here, if you really want to tie in an origin...

How about supernatural origins? It's the apocalypse, so you can have some fun here. Bust out the greatest chart-toppers from the Revelations of St. John. Or how about a play on the Epic of Gilgamesh? What about the angel of Death being involved, and in some twist of plot decides to levy punishment on humanity by taking away the release of death? Pull from the religions, mainstream and fringe. Create new venues for an otherworldly reason for there being no more room in Hell, etc etc. Pull from those who've come before, like Lovecraft (yes, Re-Animator is a take on Lovecraft's Herbert West–Reanimator, but go further with it). Have fun.

Pictured: Too much fun.

Or, leave it unexplained. Let the theories fly from your characters in a very human reaction to the inexplicably bat-shit insane world they now inhabit. Some will wax scientific, others religious, still more will offer up other catalysts; none of these help them survive, and they will have to come to terms with that.

5. The final nail in the coffin: stop using the zombies for the sake of using the zombies

I love zombies. Noted. I loathe how over-saturation has turned them downright meme-worthy. Some might say it's a boon, pointing to their popularity in various mediums. That's not popularity. Here's how it works out:

2002, 2004, and 2007 gave us box office hits with zombies. (I have to cite 28 days/weeks as helping this along, even if they don't fit the exacting zombie definitions I've laid out. There's others I can cite, but let's keep it to general public focus here). Zombies are a hit again. This leads to other stand out movies and direct-to-dvd sales of "fresh" zombie material. Following trend, we see an influx of zombie-related games (Left 4 Dead, Plants v.s Zombies, Urban Dead, Stubbs the Zombie, etc) which lead to game modes and add-ons in otherwise non-zombie-specific games (CoD zombie mode, Undead Nightmare for Red Dead Redemption etc etc). Aside from the flood of indie zombie-centric games, boardgames, and TCG's, novels, and comics, you have zombies being shoehorned into places where they've no business being simply because producers want to cash in on the apparent craze. It MUST be popular, because college kids are LARPING about Zombies on their campuses with Nerf guns!

There is absolutely no social commentary/ school violence allegory to be had here. None. Move along.

1. They're not LARPing. Shut up.

2. If popularity can be freely exchanged for willful saturation, then I declare Reality T.V. to be a cultural renaissance.

I hate to invoke it again, but think of Twilight. When you're done shaking and hugging yourself, think of when it first dropped. Now think of the utter slew of vampire or supernaturally-tinged books, shows, comics, movies etc that have arisen in it's wake. Some good, most just cashing in. It's categorically no different for zombies. We're finally starting to see it trickling off, but the problem is that content developers won't see this for what it is: a cautionary tale that provides a unique opportunity.

Here and now is the best time to think outside of the box concerning zombies- not with what they are, but with what they could be and how they can be presented. Here's the chance to really make a stand-out balls to the wall zombie flick that uses the best of what works, eschews what doesn't, and provides new turns in the mythology without sacrificing the core characteristics of the humble zombie. Quality over quantity.

If you, like me, raise the banner for zombies, or pray at the altars of Romero, Fulci, Kirkman, Lovecraft, Priest, Savini or Nicotero, you're already in-the-know when it comes to all things in Zombieland. I'd challenge you to come up with the next great offering for the mobile living-impaired. Hell, I may take up that challenge myself one day; to right wrongs and celebrate the virtues. I promise you, on that day, I'll do it because it's an act of love, not because it's an easy buck. The hallmark of anything good- truly good - concerning zombies is that the effort and production should be as difficult as, well, raising the dead.

Pictured: Not the bright furutre I had in mind. Try again.

Abandon all hope, ye who bitch about Diablo 3

It's been an interesting position that I find myself in; as far as the Diablo 3 back and forth goes, I'm comfortably sitting on the sidelines. I've got my chair, my drink, and a bit of time to kill to watch the volleys sling back and forth. It's like being a bystander at some Civil War reenactment group's event, only someone thought it would be a super-sweet idea to randomly throw live ammunition into the mix, in a fit of mad science, to  "see what happens".

I'm not even referring to the whole tosspot conversation regarding the "always online" baggage, either. I'm not here to write up the great dissertation of media protection versus consumer ownership. That ship has sailed, and those of us standing on the docks waving after it have only to sigh, give each other meaningful looks, and wait for news of its sinking to funnel back to the mainland. We all know it's a problem. It's not the breakdown of fluid economics- it's simple math. Your money no longer equates to your basic use being a guaranteed factor.

My unique position is thus: thanks to a kind friend, I have a copy of Diablo 3. It's there. It's mine. It smells awesome, and I'm employing servants with fresh towels to dutifully mop up the cascade of drool I'm producing. I can not wait to sink my teeth into a hot, fresh, newly minted character. Only, I have to. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I'm currently relying on a local free wi-fi. A wi-fi, I might add, that has not-so-stellar signal strength and that routinely boots you off every 30 to 45 minutes. I can not play Diablo 3, because I can not muster up the means to meet the towering prerequisite. What I'm saying is, I'm having performance issues versus "always online". They don't make a pill for that. I just have to wait until we move for the problem to sort itself out.

Honestly, baby, this has never happened to me before.

But that's on me. I've made peace with the notion that I won't be enjoying my friend's gift until later this summer. What I can not fathom is the unfortunate scenario that those people who dropped full retail price are experiencing. Welcome to Bizarro World; we don't thank you for your money and you are now not able to play the game. I don't have to argue the functionality of Blizzard's choice. It's superlative to their model; it is simply the proprietary "easiest solution" to the problem of IP protection. I won't knock them over that. They're already knocking themselves.

No, what I want to go on about it the back and forth between the online denizens concerning the protracted recurring hiccups that the launch of this title has experienced. I'm going to peel back the veneer of our glossy habits regarding fandom, and I shall share with you the eldritch truth that I'll pry from the labyrinthine depths. Come closer, and bring the light; there are things out in the darkness that would strip your soul for an aperitif if they knew that you knew the horrible secret I've discovered. Closer now. Stay awhile, and listen...

Blizzard fucked up.

No- flee not. You know this in your heart. That's not the secret. The secret is: that's ok. The idea that a company you love has made a gross error or miscalculation is ok. No one is torching the temples. No one is razing their edifices to the ground and salting the earth.

That's the key piece of real estate being contested in the current war; the idea that either a company can fuck up and we can be angry about it versus the idea that we don't have the right to complain. While my own position on the matter is one of outside-looking-in, I gotta say it plainly, folks: of course we have the right to complain. Don't be foolish.

The bulk of the commentary from the pro-sacrosanct crowd is not only laughable, it's downright hypocritical, and it seems to stem from two variables: 1. They are in a position where they've managed to log in and enjoy their experience with little to no interference or 2. They are hiding behind the idea of a perfect monolith, and falling back on the concept that to complain online, about anything, follows some predetermined law of physics that stipulates that the person presenting the complaint MUST be an idiot, immature, or a n00b. Postulation about the geographical location of said complainer and their proximity to some ephemeral "parent's basement" is an integer that can be slipped in at need.

Let me address the obvious here: Blizzard made a mistake. Fact. It's not the cry of a forum poster seeking out the Blue overlords concerning a percentage change to their class' preferred talent. Blizzard did not have the system in place ready to receive the overwhelming traffic that inundated their servers once the clock hit midnight. Was it poor planning? Did they not understand that 15 years of anticipation might equate to a geek tsunami through the series of tubes? It really doesn't matter, people. I don't care about the why- the why is moot. They made a mistake, and the end result was people stepping up to meet them half way (by being always online) and finding themselves at en empty crossroad, with only a signpost denoting which server error they had encountered, and the closest destination for them to return to.

I refuse to argue this point. This point shouldn't even be a part of the larger conversation. Sadly it is, because there's this group that unleashes the salvo when their love boat is rocked. Guys, gals, please: they made a mistake. It's ok that they made a mistake. The company's not perfect. The company's run by humans, and humans err. Until we accept our new-forged titanium overlords, these things will keep happening. The idea that a complaint - especially a valid one - is null by virtue of it being against something you like is not only a mind blowing logical fallacy, it's destructive to the process. Let me break it down:

-It's hypocritical

I've cross checked here, and in my own small sampling of the populous I've found ten examples of people who are raising a dismissive hand to the complainers, and their rejoinders are all variations on the phrase "shut up, you're stupid". I point out these ten examples, because those same ten individuals can be found on the World of Warcraft forums displaying all the grace of rabid howler-monkeys in regards to tiny tweaks to their class mechanics; they're railing at small changes that might decrease damaging abilities by a fraction and screaming oaths of "BROKEN!" to the heavens.

Your class changes slightly, and you're ready to storm the fucking gate; yet people who paid cash money to simply play a game itself are somehow self-entitled idiots? Please.

-It's not universal

The ESRB makes it a point to warn us (mostly parents with impressionable larva) that our content experience is subject to malleability when we make that jump to playing online. It's truth, and in a bizarre twist of fate we find that it holds here offline. I'm finding commentary from people that are whittling away the hours on their fresh monks who are inexplicably attempting to mount the high horse versus people who are staring at an error screen. You were able to get online- that's awesome! You love the game? Sweet! Your experience is not THE experience. As of the launch, your playtime was bought and paid for with several hundred people who must huddle in the outer dark, awaiting some luck or minuscule window of opportunity to squeeze into your universe to see what all the fuss is about.

There IS a hell of a universenextdoor - now serving number 4.

-It's not your post, soldier

There's always a kneejerk reaction to criticism of things we enjoy among us geeks. It's an ingrained conditioned response to years of "mundanes" hammering at us because they don't "get it". The fascinating thing to me is how often and how brutally we lash out at each other. "Stop hating what I like!" is the traditional greeting to anyone bad mouthing our loves, valid point or no. People, please: Blizzard's a big one. Blizzard can take care of themselves. Once more, I have to point out that it seems it's only okay for them to make a mistake, insofar as it does not affect YOU. Stand down, warrior. Let Blizzard handle this.

-It's a legitimate issue whether you agree or not

This is a problem. This is Blizzard's problem. They have a game requiring a constant net connection to play it at all, yet their own servers were being knocked offline. Irony? Yes, but more importantly it's a problem from a business standpoint regardless of your association with it or good fortune to avoid it. They want you online to play the game, and they themselves can not bolster their online presence to meet you halfway. Call me crazy, but that's pretty much a textbook business issue that not only needs to be addressed, but one where I can actually agree with the customer base when they fly to Twitter to vent their frustration. Speaking of which...

-It's not your place to dictate rights

This goes out to the camp that are shooting people down under the aegis of revoking the "right" to complain, or trying to sideline it by pointing out that there are worse scenarios. First off? Shut the fuck up. Secondly? You are not the arbiter of rights - they paid, and they are unable to play. It's that simple. Thirdly? Seriously? Other problems more worthy of attention? Look, buddy - there's not a queue for this nonsense. There's no Jungian stream of consciousness regarding things that piss us off that we have to wade through on any particular path to reach the other side. We don't have to delegate which issues we choose to vent on in some preordained pecking order.

I'm fairly sure that after they vented regarding Diablo 3, those people were free to return to worrying about bills, the state of the economy and government, the global community, etc et al. Lord knows that they've got the time to do it, since they're unable to play Diablo 3. If only there was something to preoccupy their minds; some form of escapism that they received in exchange for currency that would prove a healing salve to their minds. If only you had simply been grateful for your playtime without the need to belittle the less fortunate. But sadly...

-It's not helping the PC gaming argument. At all.

PC gaming is rightly maligned, and this is coming from a man who loves PC gaming. PC gaming is losing ground versus console gaming, and it's really no wonder why. For years, gamers were held to the standards of the next big thing- a conflux of technology, sound, graphics and engines aligning that always foretold of one crucial event: the UPGRADE. And how did the community at large react to our fellow gamers who did not have the additional funds to bankroll the delicate housing for the next big thing? The blame was placed on them with sneering impunity. Rude, yes, but in that case the onus for being able to play falls on the consumer. But consoles streamlined it- buy this machine, and play games. After a good stretch of time, you can opt to buy the next machine improvement, but won't have to replace cards, drives, or chips to keep up in the interim. Now we live in an age where the PC upgrade flux is a bit more stable, yet it's still the minor trials and tribulations (driver updates, replacing bits here and there) that we take for granted with PC gaming versus the literal plug-and-play ease of console gaming. (sans the whole PS3 update issue and pre-Jasper Xbox 360 snafu, of course.)

Console gaming caught up, and in many areas surpassed what PC gaming had to offer. Seriously. Look at just a decade ago versus today, and how many titles are routinely ported to console? So, you have people who are coming back into the light after living in the long Winter of abandoning their PC gaming; their bleary eyes flutter and they hunch in supplication as they step up to try PC gaming again with a beloved franchise. Only, they find that not only can they NOT play what was paid for, but their comments are being met with the same self-righteous mien they experienced when they lamented that they would not be able to play Quake, for fuck's sake. It's not a hardware issue, nor a software issue. At least, not on their end. Yet I'm seeing commentary painting them as the villain in some wag-the-dog attempt to protect Blizzard's credibility. Ridiculous.

And how in the hell are people drawing comparisons to the Portal 2 scenario? Yes, it was silly that people complained because they had to wait an additional 15 minutes or so for the Steam servers to come back up to allow them to download the game, but we're not talking about content delivery with Diablo 3. I can load up Portal 2 right now, and play it. No muss, no fuss. I can't play Diablo 3 due to lack of consistent connection (that's on me) and others can't play it due to lack of server stability (that's on Blizzard). Yes, that ship has sailed, and these current problems (and the truly stupid defense of them) isn't going to result in a Renaissance of PC gaming.

It's simply going to drive more people to the console, and more third party developers off the PC in a (smart, I might add) bid to give them the best venue for making sure their customers are happy. Your dismissive attitude ain't helpin' squat, kids. There will come a day where the two merge not to complete a long-coming symbiosis, but because it's that much easier for a developer to make their game compatible with one or two sets of architecture rather than a mile long laundry list of sound cards, graphics cards, processors and auxiliary tech. You will see a persistent world MMO delivered on console in the next decade or so- that's just the way the wind is blowing.

And finally...

-It's not the right tone from EITHER side of the argument

I've bashed plenty on the people who are being snide to those in want, but it must be said that some of the commentary coming out of the complaints department has been less than savory. I mentioned in my ME3 ending article that I don't buy into the whole idea of making these complaints a personal matter and painting the company responsible with the same insult brush, or launching into threat territory. I get it. I do, but one can understand where racism comes from and still do their part to fight it. Blizzard isn't evil because of this- they're simply capable of mistakes. Once you accept the idea, the conversation on both sides becomes far more civil.

Anger's fine, but the idea that this is willful malfeasance on their part is counter to the basic concept of business. They have a product. You bought that product, but can't use it. So, logically, they are working hard to correct the error to make sure you are happy and will return at a later date to buy more products. Why is that so hard to comprehend?

I loathe the fact that I can not play offline just as much as you lament the fact that the servers are full, or being slammed into oblivion. The bright side is, as I type this, Blizzard is fixing the issue. You will be able to play soon. Your complaints were heard, documented, and actionable plans were put into play. Go you. Do we really need additional commentary singling out specific people and their sexual habits? No. Do we need additional forum posts wielded like cattle-prods to speed things along? No. The elevator will arrive at your floor in it's own sweet damned time; going Tito Puente on the button isn't going to augment that timetable. Voice your valid concern, and wax patient. Anything else isn't helping the overall situation.

Both sides could do with accepting the dark secret I revealed earlier: Blizzard fucked up, and that's ok. What would constitute as "not ok" is if there was nothing done about it at all. We can't change their policy about LAN capability or how you get to play the game. At least, we can't with words. The flip side of the horrible secret is that money talks, and the only true way to wage an effective campaign against a game company's choices regarding content is to adhere to the wisdom of The WOPR: the only way to win is not to play.

But hey, that's no fun. Ignore the derision, or ignore the complaints. If you can't enjoy your monk, then perhaps you can enjoy something on the console. That's where I'll be until I can jump into the loot-fest, and at least I have the back-and-forth to keep me company and keep me entertained.

Well, until the problem is fixed... and a new one pops up down the line.

On the Geek vs. The Creator (with special guest commentary by Space-Kanye!)

Since this concerns Bioware and Mass Effect, I thought I'd invite a guest commentator in, who's a well-placed and knowledgeable company insider.



Behold Space-Kanye. Internet demagogue.

Yes. I've already conveyed my thoughts concerning Mass Effect 3's ending, and why it irritated me so much as a writer. We're good. We don't need to pull from that well again, so you can rest easy. This isn't another foray into that. Though, to be perfectly honest I could go on at great length as what I see to be pure ad hominem attacks from both the pro and con camps, as well as what I see to be the completely idiotic adoption of the pedigree/opinion problem from some gaming "journalists". For those of you playing along at home, the pedigree/opinion problem is basically the idea that an opinion, however properly constructed or rationally delivered, is directly proportional in it's legitimacy and weight to the pedigree of the person giving it.

Basically, it means that if you're some nobody online, the chances of your opinion actually carrying any gravitas is about as likely as your newest gamer webcomic becoming a smash hit. Why? Because you're from the internet, silly - don't you know that everyone online is nothing more than self-entitled misinformed barely-human blog-goblins? It doesn't matter if you've done your homework, refrain from logical fallacies, or deliver your opinion in anything resembling a grammatically correct statement, or clever Oscar Wilde-esque rejoinder. You're a whiny basement dweller from the web. The funny thing I see about certain game "journalists" adopting this stance is that journalism in and of itself was partly aimed as a check against this kind of class establishment mentality. Hence the oh-so-sublte quotation marks.

I'm so damned witty.

But this isn't about the ME3 ending(s), or knee-jerk labeling. This is about the possibility of a new conversation between creator and consumer.



Before I shuffled off of DeviantArt, there was an interesting article posted up concerning the developments at Bioware and the conversation between fans and creators that pulled on quotes from the community- including established personalities within the professional side of the venue. It was a pretty involved read, as these things are wont to be, but there was a lot of high-concept hyperbole being thrown around that I can't help but think damages the discussion more than it helps.

I'm paraphrasing here, but one comment in particular amounted to stating that this development with Bioware constituted a new dialogue paradigm; a new situation that was as important to communication as the invention of the written word itself.

At the risk of engaging in an ad hominem juvenile slugfest . . . lol whut? I believe the words you are looking for here are "presumptuous", "pretentious", "misleading", and "what is this, I don't even...".

Off kilter stumping aside, I have to point out something that's patently obvious here. The discussion, orBioware's seeming capitulation to the mob (hardly a surrender, as they're not changing the ending at all, only providing MORE of what some online were railing so loudly against) is not a shocking turn of events. You see, this isn't a new discussion, for one, and for another thing it's hardly any kind of new development in the life cycle of the creator versus the consumer. There has been a constant back and forth for ages, only exacerbated by the acceptance of the internet itself.

We geeks are a passionate lot, and can flashmob online like nobody's business when it comes to causes we believe in. No cause is more ready-made for our virtual ire than a poor ending or rationale-breaking change to a beloved piece of entertainment we've invested ourselves in. See also: anytime a class is changed in an MMO, the ending to Battlestar Galactica, "Nerfing" in any video game, changing established characters in a television series in bizarre fashions, delays concerning sequel releases (hello there, Half Life Episode 3), certain TCG cards being ruled illegal at tournaments, radically different versions of tabletop RPG franchises being released, etc etc etc . . .



You get the idea.

Yes, sadly, there are a LOT of geek campaigns and geek campaigners out there who are charging up their respective hills to achieve victory purely under the "we are owed this" banner. We do so because we're passionate, and at times it honestly feels that it's the only way to affect the world around us; or that the time we spend invested in and supporting the things we love automatically (or should) guarantee a payoff; or at the very least some kind of soul-soothing refund. But this is hardly a universal constant, and the idea of a company or creator actually listening to the fans being presented as a new or radical concept is out and out ridiculous, if not completely misleading.

IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME.

So why the big to-do over it now? Because it's Bioware, and because the Mass Effect franchise is something of a milestone in interactive story-telling and content experience. However, that's not why it's so hard for people to accept, or even acknowledge as business as usual. It's because the idea that these creators are inherently against us sounds far more plausible to our minds. It's the acceptance of the conspiracy theory - it makes us feel smarter, more informed, and able to outmaneuver the machinations of "them". When we feel that something we love is ruined, we quickly switch mental modes from "the creator is AWESOME" to "torchesandpitchforks.exe". This is unfortunately perpetuated based on two huge misconceptions, flavored with some truth, a dash of conjecture, and a huge dollop of pre-programmed mistrust. Let me tackle those, and I'll use the current situation with Bioware as an example.

1. They are evil, and only out to make money. They don't care about us.

This one kind of boggles my mind in a whole circular-reason-come-lately vein. I get it. We've been bred on the idea of a corporation as an evil entity bent on pure unfiltered malfeasance. The fallacy here is that one trtuh does not validate the following suppositions. Yes, they are out to make money. That's kind of the idea behind a business. The notion that such a drive is fundamentallyevil, because of power or greed or what have you, is one best left to people who really miss the hammer and sickle days.



If you've taken any kind of economics or business class in high school or college, you should know by now that a company that doesn't listen (at least on some level) to their clients is doomed to failure. I mean, seriously? If Bioware was the monolithic pillar of indifference you're thinking them to be, then we'd never have played ME2 at all. They would have folded early on - like Baldur's Gate 2 early on. I get the allure, though; the reasoning follows that since Bioware was acquired by the Evil Empire That Is Electronic Arts (he who controls the spice controls the future DLC)-



- it follows that Bioware has immediately taken on the mantle of evil apprentice to EA's sith lord. But that's just oversimplification - it's the cry of foul from the jaded gamer.

Bioware's in it to make money, and has chosen to do so by trying to make products people love. How do you get there? By listening. Like it or not, believe it or not, Bioware and companies like them DO listen. It's utter nonsense to believe that they don't; their survival depends on it. Before the PR catastrophe that's lately occurred, Bioware was adamant about handling issues in house. Artists would routinely check out the latest fan art offerings on DeviantArt to see how their creations were being digested. Hell, one of their newest artists got his position based solely on the virtues of his fan art of Mass Effect characters. Even with the flubs concerning community managers, Bioware is savvy enough at what they do to ingest community feedback, filter out what's non-applicable (we're not all genius creators, let's please stop fooling ourselves) and apply what's best not only for the fanbase, but the product itself. Yes, all of this erudition and interplay is aimed at a profit, but you can't MAKE a profit if the quality of the work suffers. They know this equation, and it's in no way shape or form a red flag pointing to their allegiance to the Dark Side.



Good Game = Profit, and by extension, Listening + (Following Trends + Innovation where needed)( Attention to detail and quality) = Good Game. Sure, they could have handled the current crisis better, or not allowed EA to step in on something they've routinely handled themselves, but that's no an issue of them being malevolent; it's simply an issue of bad PR management, and some of the suits at EA adopting that whole pedigree/opinion gig I mentioned earlier.

2. They hole up and create without ANY feedback or input from us.

Now this is a bit more understandable. It's easy to get depressed and take on this tunnel-vision of not being able to make a difference when a creator does something you don't approve of. Why should they listen to you? What good is it to reach out and appeal to someone who gets paid to create? Won't that make them instantly know that they know more about things then you do?

Well, yes. Chances are they do know their craft. That's why they get paid. But that's not to say that they aren't capable of making mistakes. We get to a point where our fandom blinds us to the basic fact: talented though they might be, they are human and fallible. They can make mistakes. I think one of the fumbles with the PR regarding the ME3 extended ending DLC is that Bioware or EA seem unwilling to accept that notion themselves, and instead of simply stating "The ending wasn't as clear as we initially thought it was, so we're adding content to solve that problem," we get the the obfuscating advertising jargon that the press release seems to be littered with.



But even if we take the idea of the two head writers sequestering themselves in a room to craft the ending on their own, it's not like these creative decisions are made in a complete vacuum. The story is picked over by a team, which is picked over by various departments concerning cinematics, ADR sessions, build teams, and even the art departments and auxiliaries. Even at just the writing level, every option and story arc is agonized over and picked apart by committee long before it even gets the green light by the high ups. They're looking for continuity, clarity, pacing, and believe it or not the most important thing they are looking at is how fans might react. Not a single creative talent out there who is banking on a paycheck from their work ever goes at the craft with their fingers in their ears.

The mere fact that this DLC is coming out at all, regardless if you agree with the decision or not, shows that they're listening. You might cry out that it's just a hallmark of them trying to cover their own asses and please shareholders. Yes. It is. I really need you to go back and re-read point one again. No, it might not be the ending you want, or even touch on or confirm whatever theories you subscribe to, but to argue that Bioware's not listening at all at this point is flat out untrue by way of empirical evidence. They're listening, and it doesn't matter why you think they are listening. They do care, even if it's not on the mutual-friends-on-facebook way you want them to care. Either way, that works out in our favor.

No, seriously. It's a fantastic truth.

Warren Spector was quoted at GDC, stating "Games are unique among all media, among all art forms. We are not novels. We are not movies. We aren't television. We shouldn't try to be like that. We can do things that no other medium in human history has ever been able to do. We have to focus our energy on those things, the things that makes us unique."

Take DLC. It's simply the law of the land now, even though gamers railed against it's impetus. I was guilty of this too, because I could not stop and really explore the opportunities it presented. Now, I take full advantage of them. New weapons and armor? Awesome. New maps and game modes for multiplayer? Friggin' sweet. You're giving me expanded missions and side quests to prolong the replayability of my old game? SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY. We may scoff at the idea, or grumble that the DLC is just a way to nickle and dime us to death, but more often than not good DLC breathes new life into games we might have otherwise shelved, given away, or sold off.



It's opportunity on both sides of the equation. We accept patches now, because it gives developers the chance to fix unforeseeable issues. You can test and test and test into a comatose state, but you can never truly know what a player will find or do with your title until it's out there in the wild. The same's unfortunately true for how the story will be received.

DLC is the opportunity, as Mr. Spector stated, for games to focus on what makes them unique. And one of the things that makes them unique is that the experience is rarely a fixed affair. While player agency might not reign supreme (seriously, folks, even ME3 is the conclusion to a finite choose-your-own-adventure), that doesn't mean that the story can not be augmented, adjusted, adapted, or even completely rewritten. Published books don't have that luxury. In-theater movies don't have that flexibility. Television shows don't have that expanse of leisure.

So while there was a crowd screaming "you owe us", what they should have been yelling is "this is your opportunity- don't waste it". Bioware owes us nothing beyond what they must undertake in order to remain successful. They defended their art, and rightly so. Geeks often jump to the defense of games as an artform, but that suddenly flies out the window when they feel themselves wronged, and the volume of their ire increases based on the two wrong assumptions I just covered. There were faults on both sides of the coin, but we can't have it both ways, guys and gals. If games are an artform, then we have to be ready to respect if not accept the sanctity of the creator's work; not to refrain from critique, but to understand that we do not get the right to demand a change to anything that does not effect the mechanics of gameplay itself. The outcry to Mass Effect 3's ending is, valid or not, one concerning creative choices. It has nothing to do with whether or not the game works, and we do not get the right to scream for a fix.

However, that's where opportunity comes in. Bioware, and game companies in general, CAN leverage DLC when it comes to creative concerns. If there's anything truly new about the conversation, it's that these companies and creative teams can address these kinds of issues if they so choose. They can fix dialogue, or poor voice acting. They can combat plot holes and murky narrative elements. They can flat out rewrite things that contradict earlier developments.



If they choose to.

I would ask that, if there's a need for a "new conversation" for the sake of the current debate, that the new discussion take on the role of gentle reminder rather than screaming advisor or personal antagonist. Instead of attacking, simply and patiently remind those you support of the tools at their disposal. Will they agree with you? Maybe, maybe not. But I for one would certainly be more apt to listening to the well-intentioned and calmly delivered statement about what my options are rather than what I MUST do.

They owe us nothing, but profit aside they've given a lot, and know they have the power to make us happier so we'll buy more games. That's REALLY exciting to me.

But that's only if we can begin to accept a LOT of things that we've flatly refused to consider before now. Otherwise... well... would you really want to do anything for a group of people who are making physical threats against your person all because of an idea you thought was awesome at the time you wrote it?

Bioware, unfortunately, is now too big to fail. I don't mean that in the same way certain financial institutions and auto companies tried to convince the government of a few years back. I mean that Bioware has grown to the point in popularity where every move is triple-guessed by the outside world, and that when a mistake is made it's now a no-win situation, even if they bend over backwards to solve it. There's no version of this now where the larger portion of their fanbase will be pleased, or at least accepting.

We geeks are a passionate lot, and what fools we geeks be.

The conversation between the creator and consumer remains unchanged. What's changed, at least in the video games medium, is how content, art, and story can be handled and shared.

I'll just end here with a quote from Ken Levine from Irrational Games: "I think this whole thing is making me a little bit sad because I don't think anyone would get what they wanted if that happened." He was referring to the prospect of Bioware completely scrapping the ending they delivered with Mass Effect 3 and implementing (trying to implement) an ending that would please the fans.

The only winners here are the companies who don't have "Bioware" written on their letterheads. Perhaps we could simply accept that, and hope that the next opportunity is seized, or considered, before we reach for the digital muskets.

More info about my upcoming novel

Here's yet more details from my upcoming novel. This covers some of the major-player groups that can be found in the world, and even how they relate to one another. To set this up, there was a global empire that existed before the timeframe of the novel, known as the Vizier Empire. The Vizier themselves were, effectively, wizards. Their power was unchallenged until the invention of the Airship, and a literal Industrial Revolution that rose up to destroy the reign of the Vizier.

After that, came a man known as Absalohm the Enlightened, who showed all the hallmarks of genius even from a young age. He perfected the existing airship technology and the sciences that surrounded the art. His works pushed the world of Calopa into a renaissance of progressive advancement  in nearly all scientific, communication, and creative disciplines. Then, seemingly without warning or preamble, Absalohm launched a devestating series of attacks across the world that nearly brought it to the brink of collapse. Absalohm the enlightened was then known by many unkind names, none of which so appropriate as Absalohm the Betrayer. His flagship, the Golden Aegis, was the pinnacle of innovation and unrivaled in the skies. The novel takes place after his defeat, and the detruction of the Golden Aegis itself.

The Mechana Templaris
A paramilitary group only loosely associated with the Admiralty, The Mechana Templaris are a group of warrior-engineers who are equal parts vigilantes, mercenaries and renowned heroes. They augment their bodies by utilizing mechanical limbs, powered exo-suits, and other inventions to overcome personal injuries or simply give themselves an advantage. They ally themselves with no particular group, choosing instead to fight for whatever they perceive to be the most noble cause (or contract) at a given time. They are located mostly on land, but maintain a small group of sizable airships to allow them to take their fight to the skies.


Their motto is: A posi av esseh - from Old Common, meaning "From the imagined to reality". The group also includes ambulatory constructs known as Wardolls, that are used on ground missions.


Arithnomancers (Church of Sums to detractors)
"The Grand Ordered", as initiates refer to the group at large, is one of the splinter sects of the original Vizier Empire, and the only one to maintain any manner of influence and funding among the governments of Calopa. Members of the order all have retained the hereditary trait of being able to affect probability, and possess keen insights into the mathematics that make up the world around us such as it relates to physics, architecture, meteorology, biology, and limited precognitions based on probability. They maintain a guild-structure, with adherents being bound by a strict code of conduct, and all disciplinary measures being effected in-guild. Outside of the Guild, it's members are held to Admiralty Law; a Guild member must be present on any ship as crew or brought aboard before said ship is allowed to dock with any Admiralty or Sha-Mercantile Skyhold. This eliminates the natural dangers that are ever-present for at-altitude operations, and greatly reduces the chances of mid-air disaster.


Other laws and strictures include: Arithnomancers can not hold political office, preside over mercantile services, nor are they allowed to captain a vessel themselves. Moreover, any person that is identified as an Arithnomancer must submit themselves to the Guild for membership, or be declared anathema. Rogue Arithnomancers rarely enjoy freedom for long, as both the Guild and the Admiralty take all measures to hunt them down before they can wreak lasting harm with their unique abilities.


Theurgists
Another splinter group of the original Vizier Empire, the Theurgists are considered the most rare, but least dangerous branch of the Vizier bloodline. Because of their limited numbers and less dangerous powers, Theurgists enjoy personal autonomy, and do not organize themselves into any kind of larger group structure. Depending on the nation you find them in, they are referred to as Witch-fey, bone-throwers, glamourists, sages, lokir, shamans and wisepeople. They can speak with the dead and elemental spirits; create minor visual illusions; but their chief strength comes from their ability to heal the sick and wounded through apparently entirely magical means.


It's this unique ability that convinced The Admiralty to employ a group of Theurgists who aid in medical matters aboard Admiralty ships or at Skyhold hospitals, and who can also provide limited illusions for defensive or offensive means. World-bound Theurgists tend to revile these Admiralty ilk, referring to them as Hollowmen, and seeing their loyalty to The Admiralty as a sign of sickness and betrayal of the “natural order”.


Augir
The Augir are the most mysterious and therefor feared branch of the original Vizier Empire bloodline. Their talents lie predominantly with elementalism, spell-craft, and awe-inspiring displays of destruction when they feel threatened. The Admitalty clearly remembers the war of attrition that brought the Vizier empire to an end, and how the powers of the Augir were largely responsible for the vicious nature of the fighting. To that end, persons born with this branch of the bloodline are deported to the southern land of Ahmshere, where the Augir have formed into a separate nation. Ahmshere maintains an uneasy truce with the rest of the world; agreeing to take newborn Talents into their care, in exchange for diplomatic and economic relations as overseen by the Sha Mercantile. Such a truce ensures that the purges of old will never be necessary again, and that the Augir themselves can not raise the Vizier empire from the ashes. The Augir possess no airships and no sea vessels, relying only on the trade lines from the Mercantile for any imported goods and services. 


However, the main harbor into Ahmshere (called simply The World Gate), is heavily defended, and no ship of the air or sea is permitted to enter without clearance. To that end, the nation of Ahmshere is considered a no-fly zone, and the Admiralty will not prosecute cases of wayward travelers vanishing in Ahmshere waters or airspace.


The Azure Admiralty
Initially formed in the twilight days of the Vizier empire as a mercantile guild to monopolize on the invention of airships and airship trade, the Admiralty quickly grew into a powerful military and diplomatic force that is credited as the key influence in bringing down the Vizier and restoring democratic rule to the world of Calopa. Since that victory, their power and influence has grown to such heights that they now oversee the greater portions of Calopa's air-travel, air-trade, and upper crust citizenship. They are funded through taxes collected from nations that are signed members of the Accord. In exchange for these tithes, Accord nations enjoy the protection of the Admiralty's sky-ships, and the Admiralty maintains the air-based ports, docking structures, cities and security interests. The Admiralty is considered a nation unto itself, with the unique quality of being a nation that is almost entirely based in the sky.


Admiralty citizens (often called “skyborn” or “pigeons” by detractors) enjoy unfettered access to all Admiralty holdings and comforts (which often exceed the quality of life of their land-based counterparts) without having to pay the nominal fees or taxes other nations must to utilize Admiralty holdings.


The Admiralty enforces the law of the air and it's influence over Calopa via the Grand Aeronaut Armada; a collection of airships outfitted for war and unmatched in the skies. Decades of development from lessons learned during the fall of the Vizier empire have produced the most effective and devastating weaponry and ship-building sciences to date, and all aspects of development fell under the Admiralty's control. That is, until Absalohm created the Golden Aegis.


Sha-Mercantile
Once the admiralty had secured it's hold on the skies, a few of the original guild members abstained, and created a world-wide merchants guild to bridge the needs of sky and earth alike, and to rebuild the shattered global economy and supply chains of Calopa after the fall of the Vizier Empire. Altruism aside, the shrewd masters of this new global guild set the odds in their favor to net a tidy profit while providing such services. Sha-Mercantile agents control the individual trade nexuses in the sky, and the Admiralty gives them autonomy (within reason) as the Sha-mercantile fulfills a necessary role that the Admiralty had relinquished responsibility over. The Sha-Mercantile itself is broken up into smaller guilds, with Scions leading them and representing the particular interest or trade they manage. As the Sha-Mercantile deals more with the world at large than the admiralty, they are more in tune with the political, geographical, spiritual and monetary needs and differences of various countries, and therefore often act in a diplomatic or advising role on behalf of the Admiralty.


The Unaligned Nation/ The Corsair Fleet
A growing group of malcontents and dissidents who have managed to gather an impressive number of sea and air ships, the Corsair Fleet call no single country home, and while the bulk of the Fleet is perpetually on the move one can find their holds hidden away in almost every major port of Calopa, including key Admiralty Skyholds (without their knowledge, of course). First emerging at the tail end of the war that ended the Vizier Empire, the Fleet was comprised originally of patriots who had fought in the war itself, and who pushed for a system of government that provided sovereignty not just for every nation, but for the skies above them as well. The rise of the Admiralty saw those dreams come to an end, as one group monopolized the air, and enforced their “blue rule” above ever country save for Ahmshere. Today, the Fleet gathers more and more support even though they are branded as pirates by the Admiralty, Sha-Mercantile, and most countries. The ultimate goal of the Fleet appears to be the breaking of the Admiralty's monopoly and hegemony; which the Corsair Fleet equates to the same level of oppression visited upon Calopa by the Vizier Empire.


The Stone Brethren
The stone Brethren are a fanatical group that has been labeled as a cult and terrorists, and outlawed in most countries. Their core belief is that any branch of the Vizier bloodline is demon-tainted, and that the byproduct of their reign (flight) is an affront to what they call the All-Mother; their matron deity. To that end, they will viciously attack any airship unlucky enough to have to land outside any Admiralty or Sha-Mercantile terra-hold (earth based docking platforms)., and will go out of their way to purge whatever land they find themselves in of any trace of the Vizier bloodlines. Recently, their numbers have swelled in the wake of destruction that Absalohm and the Golden Aegis rained down upon Calopa.


The Acolytes, Absalohm's Chosen, The Scions of Absalohm, The Illuminated Echelon
Known by many names, these were the most dedicated of the legion of followers that flocked to Absalohm's cause and helped him to build the Golden Aegis. Since the apparent defeat of Absalohm and the destruction of the Golden Aegis, they have largely attempted to blend back into society, though some operate openly in bids to co-opt the discoveris and inventions of Absalohm the Enlightened. The Corsair Fleet is rumored to be currently guided by the more even-handed and freedom-centric former lieutenants of Absalohm.


As Absalohm was tried in abstentia for his crimes against Calopa, there is a standing bounty for any and all of his officers, soldiers, scientists, or crew that served aboard the Golden Aegis. Those found face a swift trial followed by an execution in the manner of the Admiralty or sovereign nation's choosing.


More details soon, including a sneak peek at Chapter One! Stay tuned.

Why I am a Geek and what that means to me

My name is Xero Reynolds, and I have a confession to make.

I am a geek.

No, that's not the confession- that's a statement of chest-swelling pride.

No, the confession is that it wasn't until the past seven years or so that I could proclaim my geekdom without any sense of irony or slight shame. It's surprising, given the nature of things even seven years ago, but it really did take the explosion of the geek as an idea of celebration to really make me comfortable with the notion; the idea that I'm not the weirdo or the pariah. I am welcomed. I am valued. I am home.

Now before this begins to sound like grade A undiluted maudlin, I need to qualify the tone of this piece, so hopefully you will be able to see where I'm coming from and how earnest this confession really is. I'll be freely dating myself with examples here, so bear with me. Yes. I'm 31 years old. Yes, I saw the dawn of electronic man, utilized the crudely-shaped but purposeful tool that was dial-up, and bore witness to the ominous black monolith that bore the sigil of America Online. Can we all accept that and move forward? Excellent.








My cane has a +20 vs. Youthful Exuberance.

Get off of my lawn, etc etc.

The tone needs to be established, because this is a very personal piece for me. In my heart of hearts, I wish this could be the message I could send back to my younger self – provided, that is, that I could get a hold of a DeLorean, a flux capacitor, and an arbitrary speed prerequisite for time travel. I would love for past-tense me to be able to read this, but sadly he can't. He can't this see message, that is; I assure you that past-tense me is literate. He can read. Stop judging.

And, once again, I'm turning to humor to sort this out. Only this time, the humor's decidedly self-referential (necessity) and perhaps a bit self-effacing (unintended but ultimately unavoidable).

Right now, I have the latest sonic offering from Felicia Day and Jed Whedon (I'm the One that's Cool) blaring on my laptop, and I have to give credit where it's due. This song gave me the much needed push to write up this piece, and is in and of itself an empowering anthem in it's own right. I know, I know. That sounds completely fanboyish and silly of me. Yes, it is. I'm a fanboy. But silly?

Absolutely not.

After watching it with me last night, my wife Katy admitted that parts of it made her tear up as she remembered similar experiences that happened to her in school. I replied that it made me smile to the point of face-splitting threshold. The song says it all: You tormented me to secure your popularity and cool factor. Too bad that it counts for nothing outside of school.

While I'm not trying to co-opt an excellent campaign, the phrase “it gets better” really does apply here. That's what I want to convince my younger self of. It gets better. Not only does it get better, it gets downright fantastic.







This is what Google returned for "fantastic". If I have to suffer, so do you.

Up until my last two year of high school (and sometimes even then), I was in Hell. It was bad enough that I was almost perpetually the new kid due to my family's propensity for moving, but when you couple that with an introverted mien, add in a voracious love of knowledge and learning with little regard for sports, supplement a popular kid's wardrobe for whatever my mom could actually afford at the time, pump in a very early acceptance into the Gifted/Talented curriculum program, and liberally sprinkle in a runt's frame and penchant for actively seeking out trivia and pastimes that few others (at the time) cared about, you get a recipe for a world-class whipping boy.







This a completely accurate representation of my usual commute home from school. only, replace Jack Sparrow with a younger me, the cannibals with bullies, and the soaring orchestration of Hans Zimmer with my blubbering cries for help and shrieks of pain. Completely accurate.
Elementary and Junior High held a lot of similarities for me. I was perpetually beaten up. I was ostracized and ridiculed to the point of staying home as much as I could; not out of some slacker hooky mentality, but just to escape the aggressors. Those days found me in the Library on my free time, the Counselor's office, or hiding in my bedroom. I would poor over science and history books. tear through video games and sci-fi shows, and gorge myself on nerd-friendly memes before that word ever became a commonplace entry into our lexicon. The few (very few) friends I had were my only other outlet, and they too would often choose retreating to their room over any other social interaction. Instead of going out to the hang-out spots, we were beating the crap out of each other in Eternal Champions on the Genesis, or navigating out way through poorly lit pixelated hallways in Aliens vs. Predator on the Jaguar.







Don't laugh. This was the shit as far as we were concerned. Ok, you can laugh a little.
Yeah, my friend's mom was cool enough to buy him a Jaguar. I think they both feel very silly about this decision now, so let's not salt wounds.

We would opt out of wine-cooler laden underage parties in favor of anime marathons on the Sci-Fi channel. We'd argue the nature of A.I.'s and what the future would really look like. We'd rent Nintendo, then Super Nintendo, then Playstation games and anime titles from the video store, and annihilate our weekends. We'd drown ourselves in a whirlpool of liquid nerdgasm.

We'd have fun, and I'd hate myself even more for it.

Bruises healed, clothes were replaced, lunch money would come again, but nothing would convince me that things would ever improve. So, like any awkward geek-fledgling, I retreated even further into my off-kilter pursuits as a form of escapism. The problem was, I began to associate my hobbies and favorites with the trauma of whatever fresh torment was visited upon me.

In short, my geeky loves (the things I pursued to comfort myself) were not only the solution to my pain, but they were the cause of it. I was a Geek because I loved what it offered, and I was routinely punished for being a Geek. It's easy for me to disabuse myself of such a circular fallacy now, but remember that at this point and time I was a scrawny nothing with no support system and no other empirical evidence beyond the simple equation that Dungeons & Dragons earned me a black eye, and that the only way to feel better or forget about that fact was to roll up another character.







For me, "parties" had a significantly different meaning, and I could get drunk with no real lasting harm, save to the campaign.
The only thing that seemed to alter this infernal-circle-that-Dante-forgot-to-mention-in-his-fucking-book was a late term growth spurt that shot me up almost a foot and added almost one hundred pounds to my frame during my last two years of High School. (Thanks, genetics. Had to take your sweet fucking time, didn't ya?) Suddenly the visual cue for the bullies went from “he's a dorky toothpick, sic'em” to “He's in my weightlifting class, and can bench 250...let's just walk around him”.

Now, by no means did my metamorphosis suddenly transform me into one of the cool kids ala a John Hughes wet dream. It just meant that the ridicule was no longer overt. It also bears saying that at this point I discovered my high school's outstanding theater and AV program, but that hardly helped my credit score with the popular-crowd loan sharks. I was still a social pariah. I was a geek, a theater-nerd, a chess-club-member spaz, and all-around uncool character. I spent more on Magic: The Gathering cards than my mom did on my first car. You know: back when Chaos Orb was still something new, and whispered about in hushed tones of paralyzing deck-destroying fear.

I'm old. Shut up.







In my day, we had standard lands for our mana pool, and we LIKED it!
Oh, and did I mention I was on the school newspaper, culminating in an Editor position by my senior year? Toss in a stint with the marching band and I'd be a perfect storm of youth-culture leprosy.

Oh wait. I did do a stint with the High School marching band. Fuck.







This wasn't me, but good lord it might as well have been.
So if anything could be said for those last two years, it's only that my Hell became more quiet, with less active clear-and-present torment. Fortunately, Dante DID describe that circle. It's the one that describes the Ice Capades as directed by H.R. Geiger. I went from physical torment to purely psychological torment, and for the life of me I still can not decide which one was worse. Is it better to at least get some form of social interaction, albeit twisted and corrupt; or to stand on the fringes and deal with it in forced silence?

It doesn't help that this was also around the time that the female sex became REALLY interesting to me, and I was still only as interesting to them as a creepy insect might be interesting to your average high-school prom queen candidate.

But still, I had friends here and there. I repeated process with the games and movies and tabletop adventures and futurism debates. I hated myself some more. Lather, rinse, repeat.

By the time I got out, I had made it a point to forgo everything I loved, because I had come to the mistaken conclusion that my hobbies were intrinsically linked to how I was to be accepted or rejected by society. In short, I became a raging asshole on the same echelon of the ones that hurt me. I abstained from the slices of fantasy and sci-fi that thrilled me and gave me hope; or at least license to dream. I laid aside video games in the pursuit of getting “mad game”.

And I hated myself even more for what I was turning into.

My life in the years between 18 and 21 were a sublime (sublime here having the meaning of soul-crushing) stint of introspection and identity search. I came to more incorrect conclusions; the chief of these being that there was simply something undeniably wrong with me, and that I was simply destined to not be happy. And then? I met Katy.







Halle-fucking-lujah!
Katy must be credited here, because she was instrumental not only in snapping me to my senses, but making me feel comfortable in my own skin. Here was a Geeky gamer chic who was beautiful, smart, independent, and most importantly proud of the things she loved to do. We watched toonami together, Rurouni Kenshin on old VHS tapes, played Dead or Alive on Dreamcast till the wee hours of the morning, and she introduced me to her group of friends who were all like me. We started up a roleplay group, watched the Gorillaz special on Cartoon Network, ran a Highlander marathon-







There can be only one ... television series. There can be as many movies as we damned well please.
We drowned in a whirlpool of liquid nerdgasm. Again. Only this time, finally, I was coming around to where I did not feel completely ashamed.

The years passed, and I slowly but surely became more comfortable with the idea of being a geek. Being me. The taunts and jeers faded into the background, muffled by the love of my then fiancee and the solidarity of the circle of geeks I had found myself lucky enough to stumble upon. The internet began to take shape and form under the guiding influence of like-minded geeks, and I realized that there was something magical happening; Geek was slowly but surely becoming something to not only aspire to, but to completely revel in.

This was further impressed upon me by the conventions I went to, first as a visitor, and then as a special guest. I felt even more welcomed and wanted and appreciated, and suddenly my vast catalog of trivia and knowledge was no longer a handicap, but something bordering on a celebrated mutant power.

Excelsior, bitches.

I suddenly went from feeling beaten down by the world around me to feeling empowered by it. Here was the nation without borders, and our standard is whatever we personally want it to be at any given time. Our Constitution is written in ascii, pascal, java, c+; printed on the vellum of html, css, flash; it bears the legendary signatures of millions of fans and creators; its tenets are ever in flux and ever the same. Here is the promise of equality- where politics, religion, sex, and creed might intrude, but never truly guide our laws and interactions with one another. Here is the country where the fiercest debates are the pros and cons of Picard or Kirk, Baker or Tennant (or any of the timelords). Trek or Wars; Apple or Windows or Linux; The Three Laws or the Prime Directive; Dub or sub. Here, finally, was home.

We are the Geek Nation. Look upon our works, ye jocks, and despair!

To be a Geek is a wondrous thing in a time where your nation is just clicks of a mouse away. Sure, there will be struggles; there will be hurdles set in your path by the school kids who don't get it. There will be times where you will think that you're a freak, and damaged, and that what you love is wrong. I'm here to tell you, because I can't tell my past-self this: that is utter and complete bullshit.

I won't wax the platitude about “we're running the show in the real world”, because that's simply not true. The reality is so much better than that. SO much more exciting and fantastic. The truth of the matter is, that geeks are not running the world outside of your school days. We're not in charge of the goings on. We do not rule the world. However...

Look at the most popular money-earning television shows. Check out the past five years of blockbuster movies, or other entertainment. Check out the rise of gaming. Smartphones? Computers? Text-speak? Fashionable bits and accessories and art for all of that? Increased speed and bandwidth in your lovely wi-fi connection? Notice anything, yet?

We did that. You're most welcome. Feel free to bow, or kneel in awe.







Hey. The man said KNEEL.
We drive the industries, and other industries benefit because of it. Like your celebrity gossip? Think it's not geeky? Bitch, please. We crafted the allure and dedication to trivia and communication needs necessary to bring you TMZ. Like football? Enjoying the new graphics and animated segments and real-time information relays that help you know what's-what? Hi. We're the gamers that you can thank for informing those creative decisions at the corporate level. Don't even get me started on “fantasy football”. Did you enjoy The Dark Knight or Iron Man? Ha. We have number 1 issues, mint condition. Love being able to text those silly little acronyms to save you time on your smartphone? Lovely. Newsgroups, alt.vista, mIRC, IM, Lan games, MMO's. We ARE your precious shorthand Oxford.

No. We do not rule the world. We fucking CREATE it.

To my past self, and all adherents and patriots of our proud Geek nation: you are powerful and needed. You are the dreamers that will craft the future, even as you argue over what that future might be. Like the 10th Doctor, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

To the cool, the bullies, or the tragically hip of the world, I'll simply leave you with this, as Felicia and Jed said it better than I ever could:






Now WE'RE the ones that are cool. The rest of the world failed their saving throw.

My name is Xero Reynolds, and I am a proud Geek.

Whatchu Whatchu Whatchuwant?

I've been asked if I intend to delve more into ME3's ending in a new Clockwork Geek article, given recent events. Nah- I think what's been said already is fine (and in most cases said far more eloquently than I could ever muster). At this point, it's almost a trope to continue hacking away at the already exposed viscera of this poor horse. I've said my fill on the matter, and still love the game itself. I'm already chopping through my followup playthrough with my FemShep engineer on a higher difficulty.

I'm not sure what the next article on my blog will cover, (been kind of a slow geek news week for me) but the ME3 issue's already been thoroughly tread through. If there's something in particular you'd like discussed otherwise, I'm always open to suggestions, and I'm sincerely thankful for the people who're slogging through my blog.

Make yourselves heard, people, and I'll gleefully take a +2 axe-of-greater-article-dissection to whatever interesting topic-beholder you manage to summon. I've got a few personal articles on the docket concerning my writing process, love of movie-making (and why I write and draw instead) and even some interesting bits from my upcoming novel, but I'd much rather sprinkle those slivers of myself onto this salad sparingly.

Hit me up.

On Misleading Titles, Steampunk, and Unnecessary Subculture

((no pics on this one. I want this to stand on it's own, given the subject matter. Funny pics later, quasi-serious discussion with humorous input now.))

I have been contacted by the outside world, a veritable pantheon of the walks and ilk of humanity under a single standard, and raising their voices in a single chorus, and the message they bring is: “We are confused”.

Ok, so maybe only a few people are confused. I just enjoy couching that in dramatic imagery.

So, given that the title of the blog is “The Clockwork Geek”, it's easy for me to understand the confusion. I'm not entirely blind or blameless to misleading copy. It's easy to assume that the blog would be yet another entry into the sphere who's pre-programmed targeting guidance would seek out only the most valuable of targets in the Steampunk genre alone. Where are the DIY brass-and-gear tchotchkes? Where can I find the filligree-slathered corsets? WHERE ARE MY FAUX-BRASS RETROFITTED NERF GUNS?! WHY THE HELL IS HE WRITING ABOUT MASS EFFECT 3?!?!?!

...Some may cry. Dramatic, no? Yes.

I'm sure the title image for the blog does no favors to clear things up either; what with it's arabesque swirls and hipster-come-lately subtitle typeface. Perhaps next time I'll employ comic sans or papyrus, and listen to the soothing sounds of millions of font-obsessed designers cry out in ultimate suffering. Well, not really. Again, it's just nice dramatic imagery. Besides- I'm not popular enough to inspire more than a derisive sneer and a closing of the browser.

Oh, the slings and arrows of outrageous helvetica.

(warning: Xero is not a hipster, but is not above self-depreciating humor.)

So I get the confusion, given the title; it's a misleading bait-and-switch when taken at face value. Well, that's kind of the gag. Steampunk's only one small part of the wide and sprawling landscape of geekery that I choose to stroll through. It's a side-destination; a curiosity to visit and revisit as I cruise down the mental Route 66 of my fandoms. It's one more flavorful bit that's thrown into the collective stew.

I now want a road-trip and a bowl of soup. Ffffffffffffffff-

Don't get me wrong- I'm not diminishing it by any means. I love Steampunk. I've loved it since I first discovered Jules Vern and Steampunk-flavored off the shelf RPG supplement books back in the early 90's. But that's not the catalyst for the blog title. You see, I'm fascinated by clocks. More specifically, their inner workings. So the leap from “gear-driven devices are cool” to “gear driven technology/aesthetic is cool” was a simple one for me. “The Clockwork Geek” is about as literal a handle as it gets. I'm a geek, and I adore clockwork machines. It's just that simple.

But since we're here, and you and I are having such a lovely discussion about it, I'd like to delve into Steampunk for a bit, if I may.

I'm going to assume you said I may. I'm also going to assume that you've officially blamed me for bringing sexy back. You can assume I'd thank you for both of these suppositions.

The first novel I'm currently writing is a Steampunk Fantasy work. You better believe I loves me some punk-o-the-steam. (note: no one in their right mind ever calls it “punk-o-the-steam”, but I've never been accused of being in my right mind.) The works of Vern, Wells, and Gernsback are as stimulative to me in terms of my fascination with futurism as the contemporary works of Pullman, Westerfield, Hunt and Priest are to my adoration with alternative reality period pieces.

I love the former authors, because I genuinely consider them dyed in the wool futurists. Regardless of the fantastical trappings they employ, these guys were trying to preemptively call the future. I'll grant that there were luddite overtones in there, but by and large it was all about looking ahead. They used terms and descriptions that appealed the a broader audience while relying on the technology of the time as they understood it, with a narrative push that took it from mundane to the wondrous “what if” of tomorrow. The example I often use to explain the mindset of these forefathers of science fiction is Warren Ellis. Seriously, check out this guy's work not only on Extremis, but on his personal writings too. Ellis is constantly keeping his finger on the pulse of developing technology and using that to give his narrative a little push to explain fantastic concepts. I could easily name other like authors, but Ellis and his I-shot-a-fanboy-at-Comicon-just-to-watch-him-die beard always pops up in my mental contact list first.

Meanwhile, the contemporary counterparts take a route dictated by the developed fandom; this results mostly in alternative history pieces; i.e. pieces using the radical far-end spectrum of steam technology and how it's used in an alternate version of locales from our past. They also, like me, delve giddily into completely new lands with their own quirky rules, birthing new realms of fantasy. All of this is, of course, the byproduct of fans of the genre and tone rather than the purposed future outlook of the authors who began it all.

So what you have, at it's core, are writers inspired by looking back at writers who were looking forward. Your mind, she is blown.

Well, my mind is, anyway.

And that's what I personally love about the genre. Mind, I'm talking about this in terms of when I personally discovered it and fell in love. This would be a time when the genre was very niche, and by and large not on the collective world's radar in terms of saturation and popularity. Oh, but the drums... the drums! The drumbeat of the emerging widespread fandom loomed in the distance, and was getting ever closer.

I remember sitting at my table at A-kon in Dallas in in the early 2k's, ( I want to say 2003, but don't pin me down. Cons blur together.) sketching out something for a customer, and a friend tapped me on the shoulder and pointed over at a young lady who was dressed to the nines in Victorian fashion laced with copious amounts of brass-and-gear couture. He asked, understandably, if that was some new take on the Gothic Lolita craze he had seen around the con.

I smiled and replied; “Nope. That's Steampunk.” Yes, I said it in such a way where the capitalization was self-evident.

He fixed me with a dubious look and said, “What the hell is steampunk?” He said it in such a way where his confusion would suffer no capitalization to pass.

I laughed and replied- and this is verbatim, “Give it a few years. You'll know exactly what it is, and it will be everywhere.”

I knew it was coming. All the signs were there. This was going to be the next big thing on the con circuit. When Weta pumped out their own line of retro-futurism laser guns shortly thereafter, I knew I wasn't alone in seeing the portents that told of the coming explosion.

And explode it most certainly did. I was thrilled, because that meant even MORE people I could geek out with about yet another subject I dearly loved. However, I was also equally terrified, because I knew what would come next. Steampunk, to me, is more than just taking something established or mundane and coating it in brass tubes and clockwork.

But that's still cool, too. I'm not immune to what I'll hereafter call the Steampunk Aesthetic. That basically means “fandom for the look rather than the substance”, and that is a perfectly viable fandom to have. But to me, it's not what Steampunk's about. At least not in it's entirety. Steampunk Iron Man is still pretty neat, though.

The problem, if you want to look at it like that (I only do in some aspects) stems from the subculture phenomenon. Note I say “subculture” here and not “fandom”. I firmly believe and can provide evidence that the Steampunk craze has achieved subculture status.

Small aside: I consider myself a well-rounded geek, but also one that doesn't fall into any one particular sect over another. I was never sequestered off into any one group growing up. I had friends from all the myriad “cliques”, and not fitting into any one category brought it's own set of unique challenges. This simply evolved into the odd genre-and-fandom spanning person I am today. I've been called a gamer, an otaku, a gear head, a fanboy, a trekkie, a browncoat, a Whovian, a comic nerd, a fantasy nut, a music snob, cosplay enthusiast, ren-faire dork, D&D geek, and many more self-contained descriptive soundbites.

They're all true, they all fit, and not any single one of them is the whole of me.

Because of that, I've never approved of or supported emerging subcultures that seem to attempt to crawl out of the primordial ooze of the various fandoms. Subculture, by definition, breeds exclusivity. I see no reason for exclusivity in any geek fandom. Let's be honest, as geeks we're ostracized enough, and there's no sane compelling impetus to engage it it ourselves with newcomers. That, to me, is just stupid.

Before I go on, I need to point out that I'm not painting the fandom with broad strokes. No, not all enthusiasts are like this, but the love of the genre has reached the critical mass of subculture, so many are. If you're not, like my friends who gleefully embrace all aspects of Steampunk, then take no offense. I promise you, you've seen these things happen, and therefore you should take it as a call to arms rather than a critique on your person.

Steampunk has reached subculture status. It has boiled over and out of the confines of conventions, and has spilled into the world beyond to propagate itself. And, like any good subculture, it does so by differentiating itself from the established norm and rules of society by creating a new one with it's own established norm and rules. And the merchandising! Lands!

There's products above and beyond the pale of standard merch fare. You can go into any costume shop and buy odds and ends that are aimed at the Steampunk Aesthetic. Hell, even seasonal horror shops have been cranking out Victorian and Steampunk-flavored props for the Halloween fan who wants to mix his Slasher-flick sensibilities with a gilded flair. And don't get me started on the Steampunk Aesthetic * cough * sexual aids...

Now, I will never, ever, begrudge anyone who is introduced to the genre, or even the subculture, by way of “that looks cool! I wanna try!”. That's perfectly fine, and a really great way to introduce anyone to something you personally love. Getting in on the basis of only embracing the Steampunk Aesthetic is absolutely fine.

I mean, it was the look and the theatrics that turned me on to bands like Doctor Steel, Abney Park, Gwar and by extension Lordi. I'm not one to throw stones. However, that exclusivity raises it's ugly head again, when the genre fandom stumbles onto the subculture. Let me illustrate by way of personal experience:

At my second-to-last Oni-Con that I hit, they were holding a full blown Steampunk Ball. Awesome, says I. It was a fine chance to go meet other enthusiasts, and check out the latest hard work from the truly talented designers and costumers of the fandom. Sky Pirates, Adventurers, and Brigands, oh my!

Upon arriving on the perimeter, I spied a young lady who was in a fantastic setup, complete with light-up goggles with adherent superfluous gadgetry. I approached and struck up a conversation, breaking the ice by asking if she had purchased the goggles or made them herself. It turns out it was both. Fantastic! I love the spirit of creation by way of adaptation. I then, being a genre enthusiast sensing a possible kinred spirit, asked her what some of her favorite works of the fiction were. She blinked, and asked me what I meant. Undaunted, I said, “Oh, you know. Like, what are your favorite works by Wells or Verne, or Westerfield.?”

She blinked and asked “Who?”

Alert alert alert! Conversation approaching phase Awkward. Deploying topic circumvention countermeasures.

“Ok,” I continued, “who are some of your favorite Steampunk writers?”

“What? There's books about Steampunk fashion?”

At this point, you have to imagine the sound of a large balloon deflating. That's about as apt a description I can give for what my expression did. I chalked it up to her being a fan of the Steampunk Aesthetic rather than the genre. Perfectly fine. I've met Cosplayers who've never read or seen a single work featuring the characters they're made up as. Totally fine.

Then, a friend of hers (also bedecked in fantastic clockwork finery) sidled up to join the conversation. I'd like to think it's because she was really interested in what we were talking about, but given my demeanor it was probably for the intent of saving her friend from the “weirdo”. Yes, I am fully aware of the irony of that idea at an anime convention, but trust me: it's not that far fetched, and I am a weirdo to some.

Introductions are made, and explanation of the conversation is delivered. When I profess that I'm a huge fan of Steampunk, the friend gives me the up-down eyeball once-over, ending in a particularly exaggerated eye-roll, and says “I doubt it, poser,” before tugging on her friend's arm and losing themselves in the core whirl of taffeta and metal that was the Ball itself.

True, I was wearing my casual attire of jeans, sneakers, and my ever-so-rad “Know your Roots” Nintendo controller tee, but... seriously? What in the direct fuck was that about? Is it still ok to use insults like “poser” post late 90's? When did being a fan require a dress code?

And then it struck me- being a fan doesn't. Ever. Sadly, being a member of the CLUB does. Houston, we have reached subculture. Welcome to Club Gear.

I liken it to a very apt pic I saw the other day regarding the difference between a hipster and a geek. Hipster's a chosen subculture, whereas geek is just an appellation that's broad-term. If you've not heard a particular band, read a particular book, or indulged in a particular piece of entertainment or culinary creation, the Hipster is more like than not to dismiss you as a waste of their time. If you've not heard a particular band, read a particular book, or indulged in a particular piece of entertainment or culinary creation, the geek is more like than not to begin vibrating in place and going out of their way to share these things with you and introduce you to why it's so amazing. I felt that, upon seeing that I was not wearing the same ceremonial skins as they, the Steampunk Hipster Tribal Females ™ retreated back to a safe distance, away from the outlander. I was, in essence, that poor preppy sap who tried to approach the Goth kids.

Replace any of those descriptive phrases with the one of your choice and it's opposite, and you get the idea.

Is that an isolated incident? Could those two simply be stuck up iconoclasts of the scene? Absolutely. The problem is, it wasn't an isolated incident. I can point to three others I've personally had, and a score more relayed to me by friends both in the scene and out of it. I recall the slight cry of “bullshit” from some Steampunk fans over what they saw as stereotyping the fandom that came from the end of the last season of The Guild. (Don't know this show? Look it up and watch it. It's fantastic! Or I'll send you a link. You've got to watch this show!)

Sorry to break it to you folks, but that's not stereotype. That's caricature. It's parody by way of exaggerating evidenced characteristics. That's the end run and backlash to subculture saturation. It is the inevitable by-product of subculture entropy cycles. It's a coping mechanism for the outlanders.

Hi. How ya doin'?

And that's what I feared. Subculture breeds exclusivity. Exclusivity breeds ostracizing. Ostracizing, and witness thereof, breeds backlash, caricature and parody. The end of the heyday of any subculture based on a fandom is finally stereotype and bias for the sake of popular bias. Think I'm being unkind or without precedent? Ok. How many of these have you heard?

“I don't feel comfortable going into that comic store. It's like they don't want me there.”

“I was really proud of my costume, but these other cosplayers made fun of the cheap materials.”

“Anime? What. Big eyes, tiny mouths, raver hair and airplane-wing sized swords and tentacle porn.”

“Comic nerds are all virgins.”

“I wanted to give that game a try, but they just called me a noob and wouldn't teach me the rules.”

And now my own: “I wanted to talk about Steampunk with them, but they blew me off because I wasn't wearing the right clothes.”

This all sounds very one-sided, but please believe me when I say (again) that not all adherents to the Steampunk fandom or subculture (be they in it for the look or fans of the work) are like this. My problem is, realistically, NONE of them should be like this, because Steampunk shouldn't be it's own rebellious thing that's set aside. It was born in the convention. It should be one with the consensus; unique but accepted and flourishing.

Now, aside from the lucrative fan-service and promotional blitz, comic, fantasy, anime and general geek conventions work on one solid principle (or should, if they want to go past their first year): ALL ARE WELCOME. We understand you, and not only do we have kiosks and sights that appeal to your specific taste, but other panels and demonstrations and items that will introduce you to all the myriad sub-genres of the Great Geek Galaxy (patent pending). While snobbery and attitude can appear at cons, it's quite easy to find someone else to talk to about something you are interested in; most notably the professionals or staff who are running/overseeing/selling whatever you're curious about. We're all geeks, and you are welcome among us.

The subculture spilled out beyond that, and my problem with that is the backlash is going to hurt the people we have to THANK for the explosion. Artists, musicians, and the very writers I'm working hard at joining; all stand to lose once this has run it's course and the violent anti-fandom backdraft erupts.

Does this mean an end? No. I'm not prophesying the doom of all things Steampunk. I am, however, calling it a damned shame bordering on tragedy. In a time where you have a great flourishing of the creative side of a fandom, and a real opportunity for it to establish itself as medium influence rather than an oddity-turned-meme, it's downfall or decline will not be due to the work itself, but rather the outskirt fans of it: the Steampunk Aesthetic Subculture, and the Brassier-than-thou set.

You've seen it. Hell, you might have engaged in it. The point of interplay within a subculture wherein the only way to set yourself apart is to out-steampunk the rest of the people there. More gears. More lace. More tubes. More filligree. MORE MORE MORE. Finally, it becomes a self-propelled self-parodying monstrosity. Gears that connect to and drive nothing. Gears for the sake of their existence. That one lacks gears in the appropriate amount and propensity; we shall declare them anathema among us.

And who is Jules Vern? In the room where the women come and go, having no clue of Michaelangelo.

Meanwhile, there's this group. This lovely group. They've loved the aesthetic and works all along. They're reading The Time Machine. They've loaned out their copy of Boneshaker to a friend to introduce them to the genre. They're burning a song by The Cog is Dead or The Clockwork Quartet or figuring out how to work a track from Aether Shanties into Rockband for their friend to play. They're checking in on Girl Genius or Lady Sabre & the Pirates of the Ineffable Aether for updates, and sending the link over to their new-webcomics-hungry friends on Facebook. They're writing books. They're creating music. They're adding hand-crafted pieces of real working clockwork onto their old Fender Stratocaster to turn it into a Nautilus-themed masterpiece. They are the fans of the work, the inspired works, and the look, and a fair few of them avoid the larger gatherings of “the scene”, for fear of not being accepted.

I'm one of them. And you, yes YOU (hopefully) are not one of the ones who are pushing the newcomers away. They are the lovely group that is repeated with anime, comics, Sci-fi, Fantasy, novels, movies, cartoons old and new and developing and fantastic.

You and I have a lot of work to do. It's equally our due and onus to make them feel welcomed and appreciated.

Steampunk forever! Trekkies Forever! Whovians and comic nerds and gamers and Otaku and technophiles and and and...

Maybe, but how about...

Geeks forever, forever united. See you at the con.