"Heroes" is an interestng show, one that I like a lot more than I thought I would based on what I'd read and heard about it. (For the record, the same holds true for "Lost", which I am now hopelessly addicted to.) While the show has some issues in the writing department, it's overall very enjoyable, and I've enjoyed watching the 1st season alongside my darling wife, who turned me on to the show (she's already seen all of it, including up to most recent episode of season 2, while I just finished the penultimate chapter of the first season.) While much of the plot/story is somewhat derivative of....well, most every comic book I've ever read...the show has some great ideas for how super powers would work and be used in the real world (including some highly creative uses for telepathy and telekinesis), nicely developed characters, and an undeniable momentum that carries you along even when you're not sure if the writers know where they're leading you. (In case it doesn't sound like one, that little review there was a recommendation: it's a great show, and I can easily see why it's become so popular.)
Coincidentally, quite a few months ago, before I knew anything about "Heroes", I ran into this Youtube video while searching for music by Imperative Reaction (a talented agro/electro/dance industrial band that I like). This video (made by one Evilatino) puts scenes from the episodes "5 Years Past" (one of my 3 favorites of Season 1, with the possible exception of the unseen finale) and "Landslide" to the song "Closed In", to pretty good results. (Of course, I knew some of the names of characters but didn't know what any of them looked like, so when I viewed this video for the first time I was completely mistaken about what I thought was going on.)
(Be warned that the scenes here contain spoilers to those episodes, and to the season in general, so if you haven't watched through the end of season 1 and you're interested in the show you may want to skip this. Also note that there's a bit of violence in the video, what with people getting their heads telekentically opened like tuna cans, and whatnot.)
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Sunday, December 9, 2007
The Best Snowman Ever
Snow in Washington! (No way!) Truth be told I'm not all that fond of the stuff...it's nice to have around for the holiday atmosphere, but it does murderous things to my commute, and try as I have to come to appreciate the whole "melting snow inside of my socks" thing, that particular sensation has yet to find a fond place in my memories.
But, in any case, we don't get much of the white powdery stuff here in Washington, so the kids and I seized the opportunity when this early portent of a White Christmas decended earlier today and constructed the beautiful snowman that you see above!
Now...before you get too critical, please keep in mind that we don't have a lot of experience with snowman construction. In fact -- and I'm prepared to be as incorrect about this fact as I've ever been incorrect about anything, which is qite a bold statement indeed when one considers how incorrect I am half of the time about everything else -- so far as I can recall this is the first snowman I've ever built. Sure, I may have participated in the construction of somone else's snowman back when I was in elementary school in the 1600s, I grant you, but such duty was likely akin to holding the carrot nose (which I was allowed to do only in exchange for not speaking) or else fetching one of the grown-ups a beer while they made the snowman (one of my favorite grade school activities, I must say...my Dad used to pay me $1 a beer!).
No, I do believe that this was my first tour of duty as Head of Snowman Construction Operations.
Yes...he's a little dirty. And...sort of...lacking in tallness...but hey, with the aid of my trusty minions (aka son and daughter) I think "Whitey" here is a fine first attempt in what is destined to be a future saturated with snowman construction!
Thursday, November 29, 2007
I Did It!!!!!
While I'm nowhere near to being finished with this silly little project, I surpassed my 50,000 word requirement for Nanowrimo (though my week has been so crazy I honestly couldn't tell you if it happened yesterday or today). "The Ending Dream" isn't even remotely finished (I've barely scratched the surface on Part One of the novel, to be perfectly honest) and I won't even say it's my best work (my writing has taken something of a strange turn this year...which isn't necessarily a bad thing, mind you), but it was a fun distraction, and since I'd so long intended to work on this project I'm going to try my best to keep rolling with it. Of course, I also have about four novels worth of already written material that desperately needs revision...oh, well, one thing at a time.
In other news (and I should have blogged about this days ago), M&M (or "Mom & Michael", as they're more popularly referred to) are moving to Washington! Michael actually arrived on Tuesday after a very lengthy drive, and we're excited to have them about...it'll be nice to add to the repertoire of local family folks (and it seems that my baby bro may be joining us, as well...it's going to get crowded, I think).
In the meantime, I'm going to lay off on the excessive blogging for a while. My darling wife signed me up for Nanoblowpo...no, wait...Nanoblomo...wherein one was supposed to blog every day for the month of November. Well, I nearly did it (one post was eaten, and I missed one day this week), but in the meantime I'll be back to my once a week or so blog postings.
November is nearly finished -- have a great weekend, and bring on December! I can take it! (Wait, no...not in the face!!!!...)
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Tis' the Season
Christmas Shopping!!!! Ahhhhhhh!!!!!
I actually enjoy Christmas shopping. I love the buying of "loot" for others (especially kids) and anticipating their opening it days/weeks/months down the road. I love searching through wish lists, standing in line at stores and hunting down great sales. I love trying (generally unsuccessfully) to come up with new, original or even just unexpected ideas of what to grab for people. I love hiding the loot, wrapping the loot and then showing off the wrapped/hidden loot in oblique manners to pique the curiosity of the intended gift recipients.
I may be a bit insane for liking all of these things. But so be it.
What I DON'T like is budgeting for Christmas. This year, we've had unexpected car repair bills, unexpected medical bills, the unending headache of mortgage and credit card payments, and a trip to DC for my daughter looming juuuuust over the horizon. Because of budgeting headaches, I think I can understand why some people don't like Christmas, or at the very least don't get as excited about it as perhaps they used to. I'm trying -- desperately trying -- not to become one of those people. It's tough, but I know I can do it.
To everyone who may be feeling a bit dragged down by the whole "sick of gift buying/gift budgeting" flu this holiday season, here's what I tell myself when I feel the bite: keep your chin up. You'll work through it, just like you always have. And, in the end, you'll be a happier person for all your efforts. :)
(This unusually chipper blog post brought to you by the letter "A", for: Accountant who's finally done with stupid a$$ meetings for the day...)
I actually enjoy Christmas shopping. I love the buying of "loot" for others (especially kids) and anticipating their opening it days/weeks/months down the road. I love searching through wish lists, standing in line at stores and hunting down great sales. I love trying (generally unsuccessfully) to come up with new, original or even just unexpected ideas of what to grab for people. I love hiding the loot, wrapping the loot and then showing off the wrapped/hidden loot in oblique manners to pique the curiosity of the intended gift recipients.
I may be a bit insane for liking all of these things. But so be it.
What I DON'T like is budgeting for Christmas. This year, we've had unexpected car repair bills, unexpected medical bills, the unending headache of mortgage and credit card payments, and a trip to DC for my daughter looming juuuuust over the horizon. Because of budgeting headaches, I think I can understand why some people don't like Christmas, or at the very least don't get as excited about it as perhaps they used to. I'm trying -- desperately trying -- not to become one of those people. It's tough, but I know I can do it.
To everyone who may be feeling a bit dragged down by the whole "sick of gift buying/gift budgeting" flu this holiday season, here's what I tell myself when I feel the bite: keep your chin up. You'll work through it, just like you always have. And, in the end, you'll be a happier person for all your efforts. :)
(This unusually chipper blog post brought to you by the letter "A", for: Accountant who's finally done with stupid a$$ meetings for the day...)
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Lost while waiting for "Lost"...
I don't want to dwell, or sound like too much of a fanboy, but I'll admit it right now: I'm a "Lostie". I'm re-watching Seasons 1 and 2 in anticipation of acquiring my DVD copy of Season 3, which I of course plan to devour and re-watch in preparation for Season 4, which should, at the very least, prove interesting.
The only thing I don't like about "Lost" is that most other shows just can't even compete with it for my attention. Do I know every secret and every connection? Do I fully comprehend what the heck is going on and where things are going? Do I have my expectations on how things should turn out so I can be disappointed when the ending doesn't fit my theories? The answer is "Heck No!" on all counts, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Lost" is, quite simply put, a continually intriguing, exciting, and entertaining slice of intellectualized science fiction/mystery, and, in my humble opinion, it's getting better and better as it rolls along. Some have accused "Lost" of spinning its own wheels or being directionless, but I almost hesitate to acknowledge those arguments. "Lost" is consistent with delivering what it's viewers have come to expect. It is a show that delights in presenting mysteries, not solving them. It is a show that delights in the journey as much as -- if not more than -- the destination. It is a nigh unsolvable labyrinth of Byzantine connections and intriguing plot twists.
In the end, when the series is finished and all secrets have been revealed, the payoff will probably pale in comparison to the build up that got us there, but no matter: I've thoroughly enjoyed the journey much more than I have with almost any other television show I've ever watched, and I'm glad to be a part of the "Lost Experience", wherever it may end up going.
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The only thing I don't like about "Lost" is that most other shows just can't even compete with it for my attention. Do I know every secret and every connection? Do I fully comprehend what the heck is going on and where things are going? Do I have my expectations on how things should turn out so I can be disappointed when the ending doesn't fit my theories? The answer is "Heck No!" on all counts, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Lost" is, quite simply put, a continually intriguing, exciting, and entertaining slice of intellectualized science fiction/mystery, and, in my humble opinion, it's getting better and better as it rolls along. Some have accused "Lost" of spinning its own wheels or being directionless, but I almost hesitate to acknowledge those arguments. "Lost" is consistent with delivering what it's viewers have come to expect. It is a show that delights in presenting mysteries, not solving them. It is a show that delights in the journey as much as -- if not more than -- the destination. It is a nigh unsolvable labyrinth of Byzantine connections and intriguing plot twists.
In the end, when the series is finished and all secrets have been revealed, the payoff will probably pale in comparison to the build up that got us there, but no matter: I've thoroughly enjoyed the journey much more than I have with almost any other television show I've ever watched, and I'm glad to be a part of the "Lost Experience", wherever it may end up going.
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Saturday, November 24, 2007
Excerpt from "The Ending Dream" (Chapter One, Further Continued...)
All eyes turned in his direction. Dane stood as tall as he could, and raised his sword over his head. The gust of wind that rushed at him was almost strong enough to pitch him off of the cliff, but he stood firm and tightened his frozen fingers grip on his vra’taar. One Gorgoloth held firm to their Crujian prisoner, while another stood over the humans, maul poised over the head of the woman, who chose that moment to stop screaming: her eyes were locked on the enormous stone and metal hammer head, which was easily as large as she was.
That left one Gorgoloth to advance on Dane. The giant’s leonine mane flowed like a pale cape in the thick wind; his pale simian fangs were stained red, and his thick and knotted ebon muscles were bound in a mesh of chain and bone. He stood just over eight feet tall, and he held a massive flail in each hand; their spiked tips dangled close to the stone as he advanced, where they struck down and flared like flints.
Dane held his sword high. Coming up the incline, the Gorgoloth would have little height advantage over him, even if his reach with those flails would be difficult to get around. Movement flashed in Dane’s eyes on the other side of the bridge, but he focused on the advancing giant. He felt the Cruj’ inhuman eyes on him, watching, more intent than all of the rest. He felt himself teeter as the giant ascended: the slope was ice blue stone covered in brittle snow and scree as sharp as blades. Dane glanced over the side: the bitter bank terminated like a cut into the endless stale fog that choked the air like a rancid breath.
He heard the chain snap, saw the iron head sail towards him, but he was far ahead of his opponent: in a fluid motion Dane rolled forward, well within the arc of the swinging stone, and in a quick cut he severed the chain and sent the flail head flying through the air behind him. They were frozen in a dream: Dane dreamily watched the Gorgoloth draw back his left arm and pull the other flail into the air, but Dane dove at him, and moved up and into his chest with the vra’taar with such speed that the giant’s body shuddered as it folded itself over the blade. Cold blood fell onto Dane’s arm and neck as he twisted the blade, shifted the massive weight away from himself, and with a heave sent the massive body over the side. The giant cried out as his black body was swallowed in the bed of frothy smoke below.
Voices sounded up above. Dane saw another woman – a warrior, from the looks of her, familiar and yet entirely unknown to him – ascend from the opposite end of the bridge, a mirror of his own position. More Gorgoloth trailed behind her, rushing at her with axes and enormous spears while she made a dangerously fast descent down the slope; bits of loose stone and black ice fell away before her.
Dane felt the ground shift, and he heard a loud crack of stone. There was too much weight on the bridge. The ship’s wood creaked, loudly, as if voicing its protest. The Gorgoloth on the bridge looked back and forth between Dane and the dame. Time seemed to freeze as Dane readied himself for the hammer blow that would follow. The dame, he saw, also had a vra’taar in hand, and for a moment, even though he couldn’t clearly see her at that distance he knew that at that moment they locked eyes, that they saw in each other a kindred that would last only moments before they both died protecting people they’d never before met. They raised their blades overhead at once; their radiant blades refracted the dead light of the pale sun.
For that moment – perhaps the first moment in his entire laugh – Dane was proud of himself.
The Gorgoloth moved closer. The maul in the giant’s hands was covered in fetishes and jagged bone protrusions, and the sling that dangled from the hooks at hammer and hilt was woven of beaded human flesh. Dane crouched down and set his blade. The white eyes of the black giant fell on Dane, and then past him. Dane saw a shadow in the reflection of those eyes: a cloaked wraith that floated through the air in a haze of silver and grey.
The maul swung, and missed, and even as the resounding impact against the stone sent up sparks and echoed through Dane’s skull he leapt forward into the air and arched his vra’taar down to take the giant in the throat. At that moment, a funnel of churning flame violently tore the world apart: it was a lance of cold white fire, and it tore through the sky and ignited the air.
Everything happened at once. Dane felt hot blood wash up over him as his momentum forced the dead Gorgoloth to the ground; the impact knocked the wind out of Dane and jolted his limbs with such terrible force that he felt his bones nearly snap. Shouts and steel hammered his skull as he rolled forward and onto the slope, where his motion rolled him painfully forward down loose stone and a rain of sparks. Dane’s eyes opened for a moment, long enough to see the dame escape down from the opposite hill, long enough to see the Cruj struggle against his captor, long enough to see the Gorgoloth sentry walk towards him, languidly. Its bare and clawed feet crunched ice and rock beneath their path as the giant almost playfully advanced to where Dane would end his uncontrolled descent. Its axe was ready, and Dane almost felt it cleave in half well before the haft was even raised and his executioner’s massive teeth gleamed in the white fire, which was just moments before the sky seemed to explode.
There was, for the briefest of moments, a splotch of darkness in the sky: a blot of ink, a hole. Then there was the fire, which erupted in a whirlpool of churning white and blue that had the consistency of ice but that burned with such intense heat Dane almost screamed. Bits of the flaming goop sprayed onto his armor, and if not for his continued fall towards the nadir of the stone bridge the heat would have undoubtedly eaten through his armor. His would-be executioner was not so lucky: the Gorgoloth’s eyes and face were burned in a spray of flaming ice that latched onto its black skin and clung there like a burning parasite. Heat lashed against Dane like whips of fire. Something died in front of him; sticky drops of red rain hailed down onto the snow. The sound of the explosion shook the air.
Dane landed at the bottom of the bridge, hard on his face. He tasted blood and felt ice pressed into his face like splinters. Though the air had been knocked from his lungs, Dane struggled to rise. The fire was gone, but the sonic vibration left in the air in the wake of the strange explosion still resonated. Dane came to his knees with the help of a beautiful blonde-haired woman. She had deep green eyes and a scar down one side of her face, and she wore the black and purple armor of The Fallen, even if she bore a Dawn Knight’s blade. Dane looked behind her, and saw that all of the Gorgoloth had shared a similar fate as that who’d been ready to kill him: their flesh had been burned away by the same dreadful fires, the fiery plasma vomited up by their burning hole in the sky. Their bodies writhed on the ground all along the bridge and on up the slope that led to the far ridge; smoking vapors rose from their immense corpses.
© 2007 Steven Montano
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That left one Gorgoloth to advance on Dane. The giant’s leonine mane flowed like a pale cape in the thick wind; his pale simian fangs were stained red, and his thick and knotted ebon muscles were bound in a mesh of chain and bone. He stood just over eight feet tall, and he held a massive flail in each hand; their spiked tips dangled close to the stone as he advanced, where they struck down and flared like flints.
Dane held his sword high. Coming up the incline, the Gorgoloth would have little height advantage over him, even if his reach with those flails would be difficult to get around. Movement flashed in Dane’s eyes on the other side of the bridge, but he focused on the advancing giant. He felt the Cruj’ inhuman eyes on him, watching, more intent than all of the rest. He felt himself teeter as the giant ascended: the slope was ice blue stone covered in brittle snow and scree as sharp as blades. Dane glanced over the side: the bitter bank terminated like a cut into the endless stale fog that choked the air like a rancid breath.
He heard the chain snap, saw the iron head sail towards him, but he was far ahead of his opponent: in a fluid motion Dane rolled forward, well within the arc of the swinging stone, and in a quick cut he severed the chain and sent the flail head flying through the air behind him. They were frozen in a dream: Dane dreamily watched the Gorgoloth draw back his left arm and pull the other flail into the air, but Dane dove at him, and moved up and into his chest with the vra’taar with such speed that the giant’s body shuddered as it folded itself over the blade. Cold blood fell onto Dane’s arm and neck as he twisted the blade, shifted the massive weight away from himself, and with a heave sent the massive body over the side. The giant cried out as his black body was swallowed in the bed of frothy smoke below.
Voices sounded up above. Dane saw another woman – a warrior, from the looks of her, familiar and yet entirely unknown to him – ascend from the opposite end of the bridge, a mirror of his own position. More Gorgoloth trailed behind her, rushing at her with axes and enormous spears while she made a dangerously fast descent down the slope; bits of loose stone and black ice fell away before her.
Dane felt the ground shift, and he heard a loud crack of stone. There was too much weight on the bridge. The ship’s wood creaked, loudly, as if voicing its protest. The Gorgoloth on the bridge looked back and forth between Dane and the dame. Time seemed to freeze as Dane readied himself for the hammer blow that would follow. The dame, he saw, also had a vra’taar in hand, and for a moment, even though he couldn’t clearly see her at that distance he knew that at that moment they locked eyes, that they saw in each other a kindred that would last only moments before they both died protecting people they’d never before met. They raised their blades overhead at once; their radiant blades refracted the dead light of the pale sun.
For that moment – perhaps the first moment in his entire laugh – Dane was proud of himself.
The Gorgoloth moved closer. The maul in the giant’s hands was covered in fetishes and jagged bone protrusions, and the sling that dangled from the hooks at hammer and hilt was woven of beaded human flesh. Dane crouched down and set his blade. The white eyes of the black giant fell on Dane, and then past him. Dane saw a shadow in the reflection of those eyes: a cloaked wraith that floated through the air in a haze of silver and grey.
The maul swung, and missed, and even as the resounding impact against the stone sent up sparks and echoed through Dane’s skull he leapt forward into the air and arched his vra’taar down to take the giant in the throat. At that moment, a funnel of churning flame violently tore the world apart: it was a lance of cold white fire, and it tore through the sky and ignited the air.
Everything happened at once. Dane felt hot blood wash up over him as his momentum forced the dead Gorgoloth to the ground; the impact knocked the wind out of Dane and jolted his limbs with such terrible force that he felt his bones nearly snap. Shouts and steel hammered his skull as he rolled forward and onto the slope, where his motion rolled him painfully forward down loose stone and a rain of sparks. Dane’s eyes opened for a moment, long enough to see the dame escape down from the opposite hill, long enough to see the Cruj struggle against his captor, long enough to see the Gorgoloth sentry walk towards him, languidly. Its bare and clawed feet crunched ice and rock beneath their path as the giant almost playfully advanced to where Dane would end his uncontrolled descent. Its axe was ready, and Dane almost felt it cleave in half well before the haft was even raised and his executioner’s massive teeth gleamed in the white fire, which was just moments before the sky seemed to explode.
There was, for the briefest of moments, a splotch of darkness in the sky: a blot of ink, a hole. Then there was the fire, which erupted in a whirlpool of churning white and blue that had the consistency of ice but that burned with such intense heat Dane almost screamed. Bits of the flaming goop sprayed onto his armor, and if not for his continued fall towards the nadir of the stone bridge the heat would have undoubtedly eaten through his armor. His would-be executioner was not so lucky: the Gorgoloth’s eyes and face were burned in a spray of flaming ice that latched onto its black skin and clung there like a burning parasite. Heat lashed against Dane like whips of fire. Something died in front of him; sticky drops of red rain hailed down onto the snow. The sound of the explosion shook the air.
Dane landed at the bottom of the bridge, hard on his face. He tasted blood and felt ice pressed into his face like splinters. Though the air had been knocked from his lungs, Dane struggled to rise. The fire was gone, but the sonic vibration left in the air in the wake of the strange explosion still resonated. Dane came to his knees with the help of a beautiful blonde-haired woman. She had deep green eyes and a scar down one side of her face, and she wore the black and purple armor of The Fallen, even if she bore a Dawn Knight’s blade. Dane looked behind her, and saw that all of the Gorgoloth had shared a similar fate as that who’d been ready to kill him: their flesh had been burned away by the same dreadful fires, the fiery plasma vomited up by their burning hole in the sky. Their bodies writhed on the ground all along the bridge and on up the slope that led to the far ridge; smoking vapors rose from their immense corpses.
© 2007 Steven Montano
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