The End of The World – But Not As We Know It

There are many ways the world as we know it might end. Plague (man-made and natural), nukes, asteroid impact, alien invasion, collapse of the global economy, agents that destroy petroleum and its by-products, electrical storms and even conspiracy by machine intelligence. You name it. It could even be a soft apocalypse (the term is copyrighted – so don’t even think of nicking it for your indie band) – a degeneration that takes centuries but still reduces humanity to scavenging troglodytes.

I have always loved discovering, along with the protagonist, relics of the world that came before – a burnt out car, a copy of Gone with the Wind or an old wind up turn-table with a suitably nostalgic disc ready to go (We’ll Meet Again etc. - Why is it never something like Falco – Amadeus?).

The ‘I am Legend’/Omega Man set-up, copied by more zombie films than I can count is especially satisfying. A lone survivor, maybe with dog in tow, roots through the dusty shelves of a supermarket for tinned ham, or tries on a shiny new tracksuit at the sporting goods store. Maybe he (or she – the genre has ample female leads) meets a survivor and takes them back to the hideout for a bit of jiggery-pokery with a view to repopulating the planet with their hideous mutant offspring.

Sometimes we encounter the after-the-apocalypse-roughly-half-of-society-suddenly-decides-they-want-to-be-punks set-up. The music would probably be better than pre-apocalypse, but lets face it, most punks are wankers who think spitting makes you look hard/interesting and that a meccano bike with a flame thrower on the front is a good way of getting around. Geebags. The set-up, however, works as an excellent device for the writer and audience to work out their angst at being trapped in a world full of proto-Morlocks. It makes for difficult reading because it confronts us with our greatest fear. No! Not ourselves! I’m taking about those other assholes (ie. everyone NOT like us, gentle reader) who want to make a balls of everything just so they can run around with spears and play with angle grinders. William Golding was right!

Anyway. Enough of that. Here is my list of the Top Ten Post-Apocalypse Novels:

1. Earth Abides. George R Stewart
One of the great works of speculative fiction of the 20th Century. Intelligent, compelling and moving.

2. Mockingbird. Walter Tevis
A hopeful and deeply satisfying tale of a futuristic idiocracy and the struggle of both man and machine to escape the world they have made.

3. Where Late the Sweet Bird Sang. Kate Wilhelm
A lyrical, poetic novel that introduced concepts on the subject of cloning that manage to appear cutting edge nearly four decades after its first publication.

4. Parable of the Sower. Octavia Butler
Followed by Parable of the Talents. In the future, our greatest enemy will be tosspots with the angle-grinders and spears. But the stars will remain our destiny! Far out! Featuring a protagonist that is more complete than 60% of ‘real’ people.

5. Emergence. David Palmer
So the kid was a genius, black belt, fully-qualified doctor capable of flying a plane? Who would have known?

6. The Amtrak Wars. Patrick Tilley
Yes, all of them. The guilty pleasure of the bunch? I read through all five in about two weeks and can’t remember any of it. Other than that I really enjoyed it. (But that was about 17 years ago! And I probably should have been studying at the time).

7. The Postman. David Brin
Is Mister Brin the most intelligent writer currently putting fingertips to keyboard? Probably. Don’t let the Costner connection put you off.

8. The Stand. Stephen King
Yeah I know. Sorry.

9. Davy. Edgar Pangborn
Lusty & funny. but I ran out of patience with it a bit towards the end.

10. This is The Way Ends. James Morrow.
I’m cheating! I just bought this one but didn’t start it yet! Bet it will be good, though!

Also rans:

Lucifer’s Hammer by Niven & Pournelle. The ultimate disaster movie put to paper.

Snow by Adam Roberts. If his books ended as well as they started he’d be 70% better than he is. If you know what I mean.

Honourable mention:
Fallout 3. We are not worthy. I still dream of Super Mutant headshots. As soon as my Xbox comes back from the fixing people, I will be there once more for the game of The Year Edition.

Planet if the Apes by Pierre Boulle.
Yous maniacs!
For the movie version: Charlton Heston 1 (Get your stinking paws off me you damn dirty ape!), Mark Wahlberg 0.

Idiocracy.
Yeah, it was a pretty dodgy film overall, but how compelling was the central premise?

The Girl in the Blue Bikini by Me
Longlisted for the 2009 Aeon Award. Like nothing you have ever read. Features Jessica Alba.

Do not read even if you are in prison and are afraid to go into the yard in case Mr Big takes a fancy to your fresh little ass:

A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter Miller. Undecipherable muck. Not just uninteresting, but annoying to boot.

The Road by Cormac Mc Carthy. Absolute shite. What point does it serve to have a novel without the slightest redemption? What purpose does a study of unremitting despair serve? Is it just apocalypse porn? Plus, unfettered by the likes of plot, character development or meaning, McCarthy gets to concentrate on language to the exclusion of all else. It might be the kind of thing that makes Booker Prize judges jizz their jim-jams, but I warn you! Stay clear!

Cockney Orcs

Hilbotron and I have had a few Lord of the Rings nights lately and we had a couple of questions*:

The first question is why did the Mordor orcs have a cockney accent?

I know using real world accents provides a short cut for the creators to give us somewhere to hang our prejudices and stereotypes on, and can only hope those cheeky cockney chappies don't mind the comparison.

Personally, I would have given the Mordor crew Cork accents:

Come on lads! Lets get this little langer back to the tower, like!

Then Saruman's orcs could have had a Dublin skanger accent:

Stoooaaary bud. I'ne doin a nixer for Sarumaaaaaaaaaan, y'know?

The second question is this:

Why did the elves insist on straightening Aragorn's hair? Every time he went to sleep somewhere elvy, they snuck in during the night with tongs and blow-drying spells, so that each morning we awoke with 'a bit of a Noel Edmonds' on (that is not a new way of describing morning wood).

Better than the dwarves I suppose. They only put goat dung in your beard.


*(All views expressed in this blog belong to Astrodog. My Hilbotration Unit cannot be blamed or held responsible for any of the opinions expressed).

Calling all Artists!

Considering the fact that all the other Longstoners are artists, you may wonder why I'd be looking for even more people to work with. The answer is simple enough really - it takes a relatively short time to write a script or story that can tie an artist up for months, meaning that I generally have a backlog of scripts, stories and ideas.

So, I'm looking for people to work on projects of various types and sizes. I mainly do sci-fi, with a bit of horror and fantasy on the side. I don't really do superheroes, but when I do, I prefer things like Concrete and Madman rather than the standard Marvel fare. (These are my favourite comics along with stuff like Adrian Tormine and Craig Thompson.)

I am open to collaborating on pieces, so that the finished work will reflect both of our interests and play to what the individual artist prefers to draw or is best at. We could use existing scripts, or come up with new ones. It might be useful for those wishing to build some first-class sequential work into their portfolios.

As far as publishing and distributing goes, I'm happy to work at every level, from photocopying and stapling at home, to full colour production. All expenses and profit would be split 50-50, although I retain all rights on all characters, concepts, plots etc. (This is open to negotiation if we are using characters, plots and settings the artist approached me with in the first instance. My aim in stating all this is not to be a pedantic pain in the hole - I just want to have things clear and up front!).

I warn you, though! Being indie producers, we are unlikely to make any money! Personally, the whole thing for me is about exercising my creativity, increasing my profile as a writer and hopefully coming up with something that people will find stimulating and enjoyable. So, if you think you'd like to get involved, leave your email in the comment box and I'll give you a call!

Cool Stuff

Every now and then, you stumble on stuff that is so cool that just just can't help feeling all is well with the world and life is worth living etc etc.

Currently:

Music - Junior's Eyes by Black Sabbath
Film - District 9
Books - Cryptonomicon

Nice.

Down with the The Singularity

The tyrannosaur stumbled down the beach, his scaled feet sinking in the fine dayglo pink sand. This was heavier going than he had expected. Plus, his back was itching. He needed a cliff-face or stand of coconut trees for a good scratch. No sooner had he thought it than a large bowed palm tree appeared in front of him in a cloud of nanodes.

Tony sighed with relief as he scratched. These little t-rex arms were definitely not built for administering a good scratching, that was for sure. Just then, the force-field surrounding the beach shimmered, stretching and bending the starlight beyond.

A smile hung in the air, then Kurzweil the cat wafted in on his intellicarpet...


You might recognise the name Kurzweil. He's the guy who predicted a technological singularity in around 30 years, when the exponential increase in the power of computing will result in machines with the transcendant intelligence to herald a new era for man and machine. No problem there.

There are those who feel that there will be a biological singularity too. This one is even further in the future, and postulizes 'post-humans' with the power to transcend the limitations of flesh. These post humans might no longer require bodies, or may have the power to download into fantastic, fabricated bodies - to be a dinosaur, survive a vacuum or finally become immortal, trying out different bodies with each incarnation. I suppose, given time, anything is possible.

My problem with the whole singularity thing isn't with the theory. It is all exciting stuff! My problem is with the fiction that goes with it. Of course, writers should be free to let their imaginations go as nuts as they want, and little allows that better than the singularity theory. But when characters can do whatever takes their fancy - and writers can indulge themselves unreservedly, we run into difficulties. The whole thing becomes too metaphysical. It becomes a cartoon. Where is the dramatic tension when characters have complete control of their environment? How can we relate to these characters or the settings? I do admit that some writers can pull it off. Check out Greg Egan's Diaspora, for example. However, having just thrown WJ Williams Implied Spaces in the bin on top of A Fire on the Deep and Dan Simmon's Ilium, I'd have to say Egan is an exception to the rule.

If you want to read more of Tony the T-Rex's story, maybe you should check those authors out. You'll be on your own though. I'll be in the corner reading some John Scalzi or Cory Doctorow.

Achievement 10 G - Liver Abuser

A combination of things made me want to get as drunk as possible last Saturday: my upcoming redundancy and general money worries, the fact that I'd just been to the funeral of someone 3 or 4 years younger than me, the fact that my house was full of friends and laughter, and the fact that I'd just finished my first short story in about 4 years.

So I decided to drink a full 75 cl bottle of Russian Standard vodka.

The results were as follows (in roughly chronological order):
Cautioned by the police for using the local playground,
Sudden bouts of bellowing,
Fits of rolling on the ground,
Fits of rolling on the gound with no trousers on,
Loss of coordination leading to suprise collapsing,
Red carded to bed by Hilbotron.
The next morning:
Vomiting orange acid,
Prayers to thank Baby Jesus that I stayed out of hospital,
Watching 3 hours of Rick Stein's Seafood Odyssey.

I would have said yesterday, in the throes of my hangover, that drinking so much was incredibly stupid and irresponsible and that I would never do it again. I certainly would not recommend it.

However, now that the remorse has passed, I'm not so sure. Maybe I would do it again.

One thing I can say for sure: Do not try this at home kids!

Even When You Win, You Lose.

Up until last weekend, I was playing Dead Space on Xbox 360. Hilbotron had a great laugh watching the mixture of fear and nausea on my face as I snuck along flickering corridors, blasting necromorphs and cursing my chronic lack of ammo. I’m glad somebody enjoyed the experience! You see, since Sunday last, I have hung up my plasma cutters. I have been cut in half, decapitated and watched my disembodied foot float across in front of my face in zero g more times than I care to count. I have been ambushed, harried, chased and otherwise abused for over 16 hours, and have finally had enough!

To be honest, I only made it so far because I was cheating. Every chance I got, I used codes to refill my ‘stasis module’, allowing me to freeze enemies so that I could shoot off their limbs in slow motion. Nice. On top of that, I had been following a walkthrough (Props to Mahalo once again!) that tells me what comes next in each room. It worked well enough, and probably saved me some laundering of underpants, but ultimately, it has proved my undoing. Because now I know what is ahead of me, and I don’t fancy it one bit! ‘In the next room you will face 5 fetus necromorphs, 4 explosive limb necromorphs, 3 black crawling necromorphs and 4 black necromorphs.’ Am I going in? Fook that! Not today Sir!

So… in a roundabout way cheating has undone the game for me. I normally wouldn’t know what I’m facing and would continue so that I found out, but now that I know, I am staying put! It’s not the first time cheating has spoiled a game for me. That was with Age of Empires 1 on PC. My civilization was still building pyramids and walled cities, but I was being harassed by enemies every step of the way. Until I found the ‘Corvette and Rocket Launcher’ cheat. I kid you not! Oh, the fun of racing over to my enemies’ settlements and peppering them with missiles! The joy! Next thing I knew, I had wiped out every enemy in the game. I explored a land that was mine from coast to coast. I sped up time and built the biggest pyramid possible. It took all of ten minutes. Then I was bored. My game was finished. I couldn’t start another, because I knew the first time anybody attacked me, I’d get the scent of blood and call up the Corvette again. How could I resist?

Games work on the principle that sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose. The uncertainty calls us back every time. Will I survive the next level? Will we win the match? Will my hand be enough to take the pot? If a cheat is powerful enough, it removes that uncertainty. Would you go to the bother of training weekly and showing up for every game if you knew you’d walk over the opposition and romp to victory? Would you feel proud of yourself as you hoisted the cup? Be honest!

But why is this topic relevant? What does it tell us about the human condition and our lives today? Simply this: how many friends do you know who have been made redundant lately, or can’t find work in the first place? How many are struggling to feed their kids, keep up their mortgage payments so they don’t lose their house, or keep the banger on the road? How many can’t afford simple necessities like booze, comics and DVD boxsets? Loads, that’s how many! And what are these people pinning their hopes on? That’s right! The Lotto! The golden ticket that will help them clear the visa, get a decent motor, fix the stupid gas boiler, get a non-recession hair cut (if you don’t know what that is, count yourself lucky. Ask Tiny Shazam!), tell your bosses to stick their pay cut, or get the hell out of Ireland for the next 50 years.

Unfortunately, the Lotto is just another cheat. Anything over 1 million is pretty much enough to hockey the uncertainty principle. Enough to break the game. Will I pay my rent? Yes! Can I afford to take a holiday? Of course. Can I stay at home all day and work on my alcohol dependency? Yes, if you like! Where’s the fun in that? Your life would be like a roller coaster that only went up, and never came down again! We need the trials, the tribulations, the tests and the tears to make everything else worthwhile, to make it mean something. We need to strive, or all our wins are hollow victories. A Lotto win is just a Corvette with a rocket launcher, and however much we think we need it, we don’t. Far better to play the game, and take life as it comes.

Having said that, tonight’s jackpot is heading for 3 million. I’m going to do three lines with Lotto plus. Can you blame me?