Every once in a while a game comes along that challenges everything that game before it.  Simply put:  Scribblenauts is one of those games.  So original, so unusual, so never-done-before that even if it was lousy, it'd still deserve a permanent place in video game history.  But Scribblenauts does not suck.  In fact, it's a damn fine game.

Scribblenauts is for Nintendo DS, and it shows that once again, the most innovative gaming system on the market isn't found in your living room, but in your pocket.  Really, the DS continues to shine.  So much so that I just don't see the point in buying any other system myself.  The DS proves that it's not the hardware that makes a great game (although it is a well-designed system), but the software behind it.  And nowhere is that more obvious than in Scribblenauts.

Okay, okay.  "Get on with it," you're probably saying.  What is it about Scribblenauts that makes it so cool?  And that's where it gets tricky because Scribblenauts is not a game easily categorized because it is its own category.

The basic premise of the game is that you're collecting special starites.  You do this by solving puzzles or navigating simple levels.  This isn't what makes the game cool.  What makes it cool is that you achieve this goal by creating a variety of objects on the fly.  "What kind of objects?" you ask.

Pretty much anything you can imagine.  All you have to do is write down a word, and POOF it appears.  The vocabulary of the game is absolutely immense.  If you can think of it, the odds are that it is in the game.  Using this nearly unlimited tool of your imagination, you can achieve your goal in almost any way.

An example might be clearer.  In one level, a cat is atop a house.  Your goal is to get the cat down to the waiting girl.  Here are just some of the solutions I've employed.

1) Write LADDER.  Use it to climb up and pick up the cat.
2) Write FISH.  Give the fish to the girl.  Cat jumps down.
3) Write MOUSE.  Put the mouse on the ground.  Cat jumps down.
4) Write FIRE.  Set house ablaze.  Cat jumps down.
5) Write BAZOOKA.  Blow up house.  Cat jumps down.
6) Write TRAMPOLINE.  Jump up and pick up cat.
7) Write PEGASUS.  Ride winged horse up to pick up cat.

...and these are just a few of the solutions possible.  I'm sure there are many more.  The only way to "master" a level on advanced mode is to complete it 3 different ways, using different objects every time.

Lest you think all the solutions are this easy, I'm still working on figuring out many of the levels.  Although a game like this isn't about difficulty, but imagination and novelty.  The title screen acts as a sandbox-style default where you can just throw all sorts of ideas together.  The fun at first is seeing if you can outsmart the game by thinking of something it isn't ready for.  While it's possible to end up with something a little different than you expected, it is really unusual to draw a complete blank.  And often, the game will surprise you with its attention to detail.  This is a game that knows there's a difference between a T-rex and an allosaurus.  And if you're wondering if there's a big difference between a regular devil and the fabled Jersey Devil, this game will assure you that indeed there is.

Chupacabra, Cthulhu, Tank, Flamethrower, Forest, Machinegun, Yeti, Bigfoot, Ghost, Wraith, Zombie, Ghoul, Sword, Castle, Apartments, Mall, Skyscraper, Kracken, Skateboard, Butler, Fairy.  This is just a small sampling of random words that I've created either to solve a level or just for fun.  And here's where I draw the strangest comparison in any game I've ever played.

Scribblenauts reminds me of Colorforms.  Am I the only one who remembers these things?  You get a simple background and apply reusable sticky images to create scenes.  I had a big Smurf Coloforms set when I was a kid, and I loved it.  I even did my own Do-It-Yourself Colorform with paper, scissors, dinosaurs, and double-sided tape.  And now, my Colorform joy is back in this handy little game.

Maybe I'll craft my own little city.  Or I'll design my own dinosaur park.  Or maybe I'll just pit Cthulhu against wave after wave of werewolves.  Whatever strikes my fancy.  This alone would probably make the game worthwhile, but there is actually a challenging game here as well.

Will you love Scribblenauts?  I can't guarantee that.  It's too bizarre, too unusual for easy comparisons.  But this is a game that almost deserves to be bought just because it is so fascinating and unique.  Or not.  Ultimately, if the idea sounds interesting to you, then it's probably worth checking out.

Saw Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs today.  Damn good movie.  Really.  Fun.  Exciting.  Funny as heck, with multilayered writing and a terrific energy.  I really, really enjoyed it.  I think Cloudy just might be my favorite disaster movie.

Every time an animated movie like this comes out, I reflect on my own goals as a writer.  Because, when you get right down to it, this is the stuff that I love.  This is the stuff that I aspire to write.  I've admitted it before (and I'm sure I'll admit it again in the future), but this is what I want to create with my own work.

While other writers might aspire to achieve the fame of Hemmingway, the skill of Steinbeck, the paycheck of Rowling, I want to write the next Kung Fu Panda.  In novel form, of course.

Perhaps the weirdest thing about my own pretentions is that I aspire to have fun.  But I don't think fun is automatically mindless or that dull is automatically mature.  Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is an incredibly fun movie, full of life and joy, and it manages to be both absurd and touching at the same time.  Yes, I said it.  I cared about these characters and their personal struggles.  And, yes, these characters do indeed have a surprising amount of depth and personality.  Even the monkey.

So damn it, I am going to just accept this.  I am going to embrace it.  If this is the writer I am, then I see no shame in that.  Fun, thoughtful, absurd, fantastic adventure is my genre.  It's who I am.

Your average comic book fan might go on and on about Watchmen or Killing Joke.  I'll stick with Walt Simonson's Mighty Thor and Red 5's Atomic Robo.  Film scholars will discuss the subtleties of Chinatown and Schindler's List, but I can pass half-an-hour easy explaining just how awesome The Incredibles and Monsters, Inc. are (although that should be obvious to anyone with a lick of sense).  And I'll take the Godzilla saga over the Godfather saga anyday.

I'd feel awkward about it, but I'm making a pretty good living doing this.  So if these are my influences then they've done me good.  A humble novelelogist couldn't ask for anything more.

I like games.  It should be readily apparent to everyone who knows me.  And I figure that one of the best ways to distinguish this blog from most every other novel writer's blog is to exploit that.  And if I should happen to enlighten the general public on this terrifically underrated and oft misunderstood hobby, so much the better.

So today, I'm going to review Ad Astra ("To the Stars" in Latin) from Fantasy Flight Games.  ( http://www.fantasyflightgames.com/edge_minisite.asp?eidm=81&enmi=Ad%20Astra )  Yes, it's another FFG game.  And I do love these folks.  Almost every game they've published since the late, great Discwars has been fantastic.  Although I'm not a fan of Cosmic Encounters, a game I find thoroughly unremarkable.  But even that is technically a classic and most every other game player seems to really love it, so I'll try not to hold it against FFG.

The theme of Ad Astra is that far in the future, humanity has evolved into 5 different species.  These species, with their common background, are still basically in harmony.  This is not a game of cosmic war, and that's one of the things I find refreshing.  Your goal is to spread throughout the universe and create the most vibrant, successful civilization.  But you can do this best by cooperating with your fellow players.  And, while it's true your competing for resources and status, aggressive action like attacking your opponents just isn't possible.  (I really love the idea that in the future, humanity will be civilized enough that blowing each other up isn't our first response to problem solving.)

Ad Astra has some truly unique ideas.  For one thing, the game doesn't take place on a traditional board.  Instead, the universe is spread out as groups of larger discs (the systems) surrounded by smaller discs (representing the planets in that system).  This not only allows the universe to be different every game, but allows a nifty cusomizability for how the universe is laid out.

Another nifty aspect is that players don't take turns like in a traditional board game.  Instead, they start by taking turns playing down cards on a track.  When the track is filled, the action round begins.  The cards are resolved in order, from first to last.  It's entirely possible for one player to take several turns in a row, although with every card revealed, everyone gets to do something.

Sound complicated?  Trust me, it's much simpler than it sounds.  And here's an example:

Production Cards produce resources.  Every Production Card lists two resources on it.  When the card is revealed, whoever played the Production Card picks one of those resources.  All players who can gain that resource do so.  So while the player who owns the card determines what is produced, other players can benefit from it.  In fact, if there's a shortage of a certain resource, it's not impractical to use one of your own Production choices to produce a resource you don't even have, just to get more of it in the game.

Trade is another interesting action.  A player who has played a Trade Card can trade with any other player or the bank.  The bank is sort of a default trader, able to transform two of any of the same resource into a single resource of any type.  But it's often more cost effective to trade with your opponents, giving them something you have too much of for something you really need.

Your Build Card allows you to build as many colonies / spaceships / terraforming stations as you can afford on your turn.  Your opponents can build too, but only one thing, regardless of their resources.

This dynamic means that an effective player who guesses what his opponents plan on doing can really make the most of his turn.  However, there's also a gamble there because if you assume that your opponents have laid a build order somewhere down the line, so you've used your actions to place Production Cards only to discover no Build is coming can lead to a delay in what you're planning to do.  (Although you still get the resources, so it's not like you're completely screwed.)

And this is what makes Ad Astra such a fascinating game experience.  There's no "bad" moves, no "game over" decisions.  Every decisions comes with its own risks and rewards, and even if you aren't playing as effectively as you can, you aren't going to sink like a stone while your opponents' soar into universal glory.

This is, however, one of Ad Astra's weaknesses if you're playing with the wrong group.  Since every decision, every action, has negative and positive consequences, players who want clear and obvious decisions might have a hard time deciding what to do sometimes.  You might try to monopolize the food supply in the galaxy, but it will be at the cost of resource variety.  You might decide to explore the remnants of a long lost alien civilization, gaining powerful artifacts but relying much more on other players for your resources.  You might decide to build the biggest fleet in the universe in order to get your feet wet in every system on the board, but it'll be at the cost of establishing a strong colonial presence elsewhere.  Simply put, each of these strategies (and more) are possible winning strategies.  And for many players who are used to straightforward victory conditions (kill all your opponents, get the most cash, stomp your opponent's monster into dust), this could be a bit overwhelming.

Nevertheless, Ad Astra is a unique and interesting game, thoroughly engaging, and fast-paced.  If you're reluctant to buy a civilization building game as too cerebral or dull, you might find Ad Astra changing your mind.  But at an asking price of $60, it might be a bit too big an investment for a non-gamer looking for an entryway game.  Or maybe not.

For this game at least, it's a great addition to my library.  And seeing how I own too many games already, that's saying something.

FOOTNOTE:  The game is listed as a 3-5 player game.  When I first played, I played with only 2, and it didn't seem imbalanced.  However, a 3rd player joined us after only a few rounds, so I can't tell for sure.  However, I do think some simple house rules would allow for a successful 2 player game.  The only change I made for my 2 player version was to keep the total actions in a round down to 8 instead of 12, and it seemed to work.

Hey, hey, everybody.  So Fencon has come and gone, and it was a fantastic time.  If you live in the D/FW area and are a science fiction / fantasy fan and aren't checking out Fencon when it rolls around you're missing out.  That's all I'm saying.

There was a lot of great stuff at Fencon this year, and I'll get to it in some later entry.  Right now, I'm pretty damn tired, and I'm about to keel over.  But there was something at the very end that I thought is worth talking about.

The last panel of the con was called 70 Years of Marvel Comics.  I was on it.  As were several other cool people.  And Paul Cornell, a writer at Marvel.  I mention Paul Cornell specifically because I'm hoping that, by some chance, he might stumble upon this entry and possibly read it.

First of all, I wanted to apologize.  Near the beginning of the panel I got pretty heated, and while I'd like to think I didn't cross any lines, I also want to be sure and say that Paul Cornell handled himself with grace and wit.  He was patient with my angry fannish ways, called me on some bullshit when I deserved it, and listened to my valid points when they came up.  The guy was just a class act (probably doesn't hurt that he has that cool British accent), and I'm sure he's sick of taking crap from fans.  No doubt, he was more patient than I would be if I had to put up with the constant fanboyish ways of we comic book readers.

Some great points were brought up though, and some I think are definitely worth thinking about.  Now, Mr. Cornell isn't here to express himself, so I'll do my best to offer his point of view because he had some great points.  But I'd also like to explore my own afterthoughts on the panel.  And we'll do that first because A) it's my blog and B) if Mr. Cornell can't be here to speak for himself, he should at least get the last word.

The most heated point of the discussion came when I mentioned Tigra's brutal treatment at the hands of Marvel.  Personally, this bugged the crap out of me and it still does.  And it still cheeses me off that she's little more than someone to be kicked around for dramatic effect.

Mr. Cornell said (with some justification) that Tigra is a C-List character, and the fact that she wasn't killed for extra drama is more than I had any right to expect.  On that point, he's absolutely right.

He followed this up by suggesting that Joe Quesada, Marvel's current Editor-in-Chief is tired of feeling like the fans seem to care more about the characters on the paper than the real people behind the scenes.  And he's absolutely right about this as well.

And here's where I get a little contentious again.  Just a little bit.  Because if the writers at Marvel (or anywhere for that matter) have a hard time accepting that the lives of their imaginary creations don't mean more to the fans than the creators, then I just don't understand what they think their job is.  I have no reason to doubt that Joe Quesada is a fine human being and a good person.  But that's all I really do know about him, and most probably, all I ever will.

Tigra, on the other hand, is a real person to me.  I know her.  I care about her.  She's more real to me than a stranger on the street.  Heck, there are people I see every day that I know less about.  And she's just a C-lister.  She's not important.  But, as a character, as a person, she's more realized, more concrete, than anyone in the Marvel Comics offices (at least to me).

And like it or not, these fictional characters, their lives, their welfare, their hopes, their dreams, mean more to most fans than any real person involved in their creation.  Now, I'll admit that if The Mighty Robot King appeared before me and said that I had to choose between no more Tigra stories or Joe Quesada getting struck by lightning, Tigra would lose that competetion.  But barring some sort of Twilight Zone-ish twist, I am far more invested in Tigra's happiness than Joe's.  (Sorry, Joe, but it's the harsh truth.)

Which brings me to my point.  Comic books are shared universes.  Not just shared by the writers, but by the fans themselves.  And while I don't think the stories should be held hostage by the whims of the fans, I also have to say that to abuse a character and then act surprised that some fans get upset is confusing to me.  Because just because a creator has no affection for a character, that doesn't mean someone else doesn't.  And odds are, no matter how obscure the character, no matter how C-List they might be, someone really, really likes that character and will be annoyed, even possibly enraged, to see a character they enjoy sacrificed for (sometimes necessary) dramatic effect.

(I've actually gotten used to this myself since almost all my favorite characters are B and C-Listers.  I may be the only person in the world he hated that Quasar had to die so that Annihilus could earn his villain cred.)

I'm reminded of a funny story when the current Robin was killed.  The editor at DC walked into a bar, and when he said what he did, someone turned to someone else and said, "Hey, this is the guy who killed Robin!"  It was then that he realized he wasn't just an editor, but a keeper of something larger than himself.

I do think that it wouldn't hurt for the writers at Marvel / DC / etc. to keep this in mind.  You aren't just writing stories, gang.  You're playing with our friends and family, and if you screw it up (or if we think you screw it up) you're going to end up catching a lot of hell for it.

Of course, let's also be fair.  You can't handle every character with reverence and delicacy.  You'd never be able to tell any stories that way.  But you also can't just say, "She's C-List" as justification because that can end up being even more irritating.  Imagine someone comes up to you and says you're favorite aunt / best friend / personal hero is irrelevant.   You'd be pretty irked, I imagine.  And Mr. Cornell was definitely irked when he assumed I was attacking his friends at Marvel.  (I wasn't, and if that's the way it came across, I apologize again because there's no reason for personal attacks in this situation.  And these attacks do indeed happen, so he can hardly be surprised for expecting one.)

And now for Mr. Cornell's excellent points:

He observed that the accusations of chauvanism, racism, & other assorted sensitive topics can easily become entangled in these conversations and thus derailing them.  He's absolutely right on this.  While there are indeed complex issues often at the heart of these discussions, these are larger than any single comic book company and the icons they represent.  Too often, it's easy to pull out the big guns of Prejudice & Sexism to make a point and then end up confusing every element of the talk.  (It's like pulling out the Nazi card.  Just because it shuts people up, it doesn't mean you're right.)

Mr. Cornell also said that Marvel perhaps has a tendency to follow the market and sales too closely, but that this was difficult to avoid.  Because a great comic that sells three copies a month, no matter how great it might be, isn't really doing the company any good.  He's absolutely right on this too.  It's easy to play Monday morning quarterback, to say "If I was running Marvel Comics, here's what I'd do!" and then sit back, smugly, thinking how easy it would be to save comic books if only we were given the chance.

And that's bull.  Because Joe Quesada and his staff don't want to destroy comics.  They want to make good comics AND make money.  And, like all of us, they judge their success on what draws an audience.  Or at least what justifies their jobs by what sells.  And this isn't "selling out" or innately "bad writing".  It's necessity.

(As a writer myself, I struggle with the question of whether I want to be commercial or true-to-myself or if these two things are even in conflict.  And I have the advantage that I've finished my book by the time it's come out so even if it bombs, I don't have to second guess that particular work, whereas a writer of a serialized story might discover at any point that, hey, you've put your heart and soul into this story and nobody gives a damn.)

Once we got through the rough patch at the beginning, it appeared that Paul Cornell and I had a lot in common in actual comic book tastes.  (Both 70's comic book fans, both thought it would be great if comics could keep their mature sensibilities and be appropriate for all ages at the same time, and both of us wished new characters could be allowed to develop and flourish.)

So anyway, I hope that I represented Mr. Cornell's opinions properly.  He really did seem like a terrific, sensible sort, and I have no reason to suspect that he is nothing other than a dedicated, thoughtful, hard-working writer out to create the best stories he can.  (Seriously, check out the man's resume.  He's working his butt off.)

More importantly, I respected his thoughts, and while I rarely change my opinion
(like everyone) he gave me some things to think about.  I certainly know that I won't be so cavalier in my criticism (intentional or not) of the people behind the scenes at Marvel, who, despite any gripes I might have with their decisions, are just trying to make a living like the rest of us.

Life begins at 30.

It did for me anyway, and part of me hates saying that because I feel like one of the problems we tend to make in American culture is waiting too late to start our lives, treating grown people like children, and generally acting as if we have all the time in the world.

But, for me at least, I have to say that if you were to judge my life by the first 30 years, you'd see a guy who wasn't going anywhere with no prospects of going anywhere.  I wasn't a loser.  I was just a guy with no girlfriend, no successes under my belt, and drifting without a plan.  Yes, I knew I wanted to be a writer, but that's like knowing I want to be a dinobot.  Just because you know what you want out of life that doesn't mean you'll get it.

Have I mentioned lately that I didn't lose my virginity until 27?  Or that, up to that point, I hadn't even been on a single date.  And while I had a couple of jobs, I wasn't exactly setting the world on fire.

Look at me now.  I'm a professional novelologist with 6 books on the shelves, another on the way, and three movie options.  While I'm an obscure li'l writer, I'm significantly less obscure than I was only 6 years ago.  And, most importantly, I make a living doing this, and that's pretty damn lucky.

(Also, I've dated several women, had one serious previous relationship, and am currently in another serious relationship.  That might be a normal achievement for most humans, but sometimes, that amazes me more than the writing stuff.)

I guess I'm just a late bloomer.

It's not all great.  I suppose my biggest regret is that it's only now that I'm in a position to seriously consider having kids.  But that's a small complaint, and the fact that, as a guy, having kids past 30 is easier than if I was a woman.  (Not that many women haven't managed to just that with relative easy.)

So I guess, if I consider myself a role model (and let's just pretend that I am for the sake of argument), I'd like to think that it's not just because I'm a professional writer (which is actually pretty cool, no matter how often I see that phrase), but also that if you're a late bloomer, you aren't out of the game yet.  That you're reading this blog post alone should be proof enough.

So I asked my friends and neighbors in the Twitterverse to give me a topic to blog about because I’m pretty lazy and at this point, I sometimes feel like I’m repeating myself.  At least if I do it with a suggested topic, I can pretend like it’s semi-worthwhile and not an exercise in self-indulgence.

I had a couple of good suggestions.  My favorite was “Grandma Takes Rainbow Kitty to the Dentist”, but that is far too complex a subject for me to just write a spur of the moment blog about.

Someone suggested Heroscape, but I’m just not sure what else there is to say about Heroscape except that it is as awesome as Teddy Roosevelt and Grimlock combined into one super duper, evil crushing force.  So topic covered.

Another was It’s Shredding Time.  I’ll admit I’m not even sure what this might be about.  Shredded wheat?  Ninja turtle villains?  Surfing?  Paperwork disposal?  No, far too inclusive a topic.  So let’s move on.

Then finally someone suggested The 7 LAST Superheroes I Would Like to See at the Movies.  And since I ruled out all the others, I guess this is the winner.

However, this isn’t an easy subject.  To begin with, I’m not a big fan of superhero movies in general.  There are some great ones, no doubt.  But superheroes really are designed to exist in a comic book medium.  Outside of a comic book, there’s no reason to dress up in a distinctive costume and fight crime.  It usually looks silly.  The exceptions I feel are the characters whose costume is their power.  Iron Man was a pretty cool film, and Tony Stark’s armor is a functional weapon that he just happens to wear.  Bruce Banner literally explodes into a giant green raging monster, which is absurd but at least it makes sense why he looks like that.  Even Hellboy is a monster in or out of clothes.

But Spider-Man?  Spider-Man just looks dumb in real life.  There’s no reason for Peter Parker to adopt his distinctive costume.  A ski mask and a plain unitard would work just as well.  Batman deliberately crafted his costume to strike terror into villains, but Spidey?  Spidey is a big red and blue target.  But maybe that’s because Peter Parker loves to sew and is just happy for the outlet.

But we’re getting off track, aren’t we?  Funny how that happens.  So, without further ado, let’s lay down the 7 superheroes (in random order) I do NOT want to see on the silver screen.

DEADPOOL

I know that a while ago, I posted how I wanted to see Deadpool get his own animated movie.  So why am I contradicting myself now?  Simple, really.  I want Deadpool to have his own movie, but if it’s not animated, my enthusiasm vanishes like a butterfly on the winds of hope.  (Oh, poetic.)

Everything I said about superheroes looking bad outside of comic books applies to Deadpool, triple-strength!  The guy is a walking scab.  No matter how you try to work it, there’s no way around that.  Other than to ignore that about him, which they most probably will.  But without the walking scab problem, he’s just another regenerating hero who kills people.  A big part of why it sucks to be Deadpool is because of his deformity.  He’s like the Thing, except the Thing gets to be a cool rock monster and Deadpool gets to be . . . a scab.  (The next time Peter Parker whines about getting to lift 10 tons and stick to walls, someone should remind him that he gets to take his mask off at the end of the day.)

Plus, Deadpool is funny.  Spider-Man funny.  And we’ve already seen how that works out in cinema.  Spidey said maybe four funny bits of dialogue in the entire Spider-Man movie franchise.  And that’s because it’s a lot easier to cram clever dialogue into static panels that depict dynamic action scenes than in actual live action scenes.  Because in comic books, it’s perfectly acceptable for characters to deliver thoughtful exchanges while throwing punches.  Film. . . not so much.  Animation is more fluid, more flexible.  It can get away with this a little more.  Still, Deadpool would suffer somewhat from any real-time method of portraying him.

Finally, since Deadpool is supposed to be funny, I would worry about someone writing him as funny.  Humor is subjective, and there’s a lot of chances to screw it up.  And the only thing worse than not funny Deadpool would be failing funny Deadpool.

So for all these reasons, Deadpool is a character I would never want to see in a (live-action) movie.

SUPERMAN

What’s that?  Superman has already had a movie.  Several of them, in fact?  Yep.  And they’ve mostly sucked.

Superman is the definition of a larger-than-life hero.  He is nothing less than a titan among terrans.  If the guys who made Independence Day, The Day After Tomorrow, or any other disaster movie could really go nuts with Superman, it could be amazing.  They could throw a real challenge his way.  Because unless Superman is fighting a giant robot from space or trying to keep the earth from spinning into the sun, you’re just wasting his (and our) time.

Because nobody respects Superman for his strengths and wants to re-invent him out of some misguided desire to “humanize” him, I would very much like it if Superman stays in comics and cartoons and off the silver screen.

CABLE

Cable is dumb.  I’d actually like it if he wasn’t in comic books at all, but for cryin’ out loud, let it end there!

Wow.  Seven sure is a large number.  Starting to lose steam here, but I carry on.  Because I care.

GAMBIT

It’s not that Gambit is a bad character.  He’s just so easy to screw up.  He was an irritating Cajun “Tarzan” in the X-Men cartoon.  And the Wolverine movie didn’t have a clue how to handle him.  (After watching that movie, I dare you to find a non-comic book fan who could explain what Gambit’s power is.  Heck, after watching it, I’m not sure I understand it anymore either.  Yes, it’s retrograde confusion, which, if I recall correctly, is a 10th level magic-user spell.  Or it should be.)

Gambit is a daring rogue, a thief, a “bad boy”.  Although really, he’s not.  Even in the world of comic books, he’s never cemented his “dangerous” reputation.  So until they get the character right in comics, they don’t need to try foisting him on the big screen.

PRETTY MUCH EVERY IMAGE HERO

Image characters should stay in the 90’s, where they belong.  Which why I’m proposing the invention of a time barrier that will prevent all the shoulderpad, giant-gun-carrying, chain accessorizing bad ideas of the past from infecting the future.

WONDER WOMAN

I like Wonder Woman as a character (or at least I want to), but her costume is a great example of something that was never meant to be portrayed in real life.  Linda Carter may have been hot, but she certainly never struck fear into cowardly and superstitious evil-doers.  Outside of comic books and fetish porn, it’s a liability.

Changing the costume is possible, but that’s just going to give the movie producers an excuse to start monkeying around with the entire concept.  And before you know it, she’ll be a genetically modified cyborg from the future with the ability to sprout claws from her knuckles who was raised by female ninjas to defend the earth from space dinosaurs.

Okay, that does sound awesome, actually.  But that’s not what’s going to happen, so let’s just move on.

POWER PACK

Young kids with superpowers who fight evil aliens.  While the comic books are actually pretty good at exploring what it might be like to be superheroes and kids, charming and subtle, thoughtful and daring.  Naturally, Power Pack has always had a hard time finding an audience in the comic book world because they’re not teens and they’re not angsty and kids dealing with responsibility and absurdity in a strange and intelligent manner is always going to be a tough sell, no matter where you try it.

Who thought that would play anywhere?

Nevertheless, Power Pack keeps plugging away.  Their ongoing series may no longer be, but they still show up every so often.  And usually they’re pretty cool.

Now that Disney owns Marvel, Power Pack WILL get their own movie.  There’s no way around that.  They’ll probably be aged up and saddled with a “be yourself!” message (and a toy line and an endless marketing assault).  Heck, they might just get a talking monkey and be in a band.  The Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus are Power Pack!

Shudder.

And on that note, I flee into the night, shrieking in silent madness.

Jeepers, is it that time again?  I should be in bed, but since I'm not, why don't I take advantage of this last burst of energy to write a li'l blog?  Why not?

I realized today that, despite my profession, I am not really a science fiction fan.  Kind of weird, isn't it?  I don't like Stargate.  Or the new Battlestar: Galactica.  Or Doctor Who.  Or Torchwood.  Or Primieval.  Or Lost.  Or Heroes.  Or 95 % of what is on the comic book shelves.

I'm going to admit that this is my problem.  And it's probably more of a current storytelling style than an actual problem with science fiction.  I don't watch much non-sci fi TV, don't read many fiction books.  My annoyances with the way stories are told is too nitpicky and out-of-sync with your average Joe that it's really not worth talking about in detail.  So maybe it's not fantasy / sci fi I have a problem with.  Maybe my problem is just with the new trends.

And I don't know if I find that comforting or not.

It's no wonder I consider myself a pulp writer, carrying on a tradition that doesn't seem to have a comfortable place in this day and age.  At times, I'm amazed I have a career at all.  I know I'm a solid novelologist.  I know I can tell a unique and fun story and tell it well.  But am I offering what people want in this day and age?

And, yes, I know that if you're reading this, you probably think I am.  Thanks for all your support.  Much appreciated, but I'm not writing this for an ego stroking since no ego stroking is necessary.  I do have a career, after all.  Someone thinks what I do is worth enough to write me a check every so often anyway.

Time for bed, so I guess I'll leave the topic unexplored.

Nighty night, gang.

Wolverine is actually a pretty pathetic superhero.  I don't mean as a character.  I mean, just in terms of his basic level of competence.  He's pretty bad at "being the best there is at what he does."  Unless what he does is "getting his butt kicked repeatedly."

Don't misquote me here.  Wolverine is tough and deadly.  There's no arguing that.  If Wolverine was walking around in real life, he'd definitely be someone you wouldn't want to screw with.  But here's the catch.  Wolverine doesn't live in the real world.  He lives in an imaginary realm of superhumans, aliens, and gods.  And by that standard, he's pretty laughable.

Let's look at it this way:

Wolverine cannot engage in any fight without getting shot, stabbed, or otherwise beaten to hell.  He regenerates, but it doesn't change the fact that he can't avoid getting creamed every fight.  Just because he grows back his eyeballs, doesn't change the unavoidable truth that his chief fighting technique is just to outlast his opponent.

Also, Wolverine's primary weapon is his claws.  He uses these to maim and slash his opponent to pieces.  While they're effective weapons, there's no indication that Wolverine is a capable fighter without them.  Heck, when he was stripped of his adamantium skeleton, the writers decided to retcon claws of bone.  Because Wolverine is useless without his claws.

Now, you might argue that this applies to every superhero.  Peter Parker without superpowers wouldn't last five minutes against Doctor Octopus.  Cyclops without his eyebeams would just be a mopey dude no one would give a crap about.  But Spider-Man does have superpowers, and those superpowers have turned him into a supervillain-busting machine.  And he does so without getting shot and stabbed, without having to carry around machetes strapped to his wrists.

Captain America manages to beat a room full of heavily-armed thugs with his bare hands and an indestructible shield.  Even Cyclops, who has the power to blast lasers out of his eyes, is better at avoiding getting stabbed than Wolverine who is, according to popular legend "The Best".

Also, for someone who is so deadly, Wolverine seems terrifically incompetent at killing anyone important.  The guy has claws that can cut rhough anything.  If he's fighting the Hulk, all he has to do is decapitate the green goliath.  Bingo.  End of fight.  In fact, all it takes is a quick decapitation to end pretty much any fight Wolverine is in.

Some might argue that Wolverine is holding back when he fights other good guys.  Fair enough.  Until you realize that he hates Sabertooth and hasn't managed to kill him yet.  Or Omega Red.  Or any of his other mortal enemies.

In alternate realities, Wolverine can kill people like crazy.  But those realities don't count.  So let's move on.

So, when you break Wolverine down, he's a marginally competent fighter at best, a guy who couldn't fight his way out of a paper back without his indestructible claws   That's a scientific fact, gang.  Deal with it.

Speaking of another useless superhero, Dr. Strange is so absolutely worthless that you wonder if he didn't send away for his Sorcerer Supreme certificate.  Let's take a look, shall we?

It seems to me that if you know Dr. Strange, the most powerful sorcerer in the universe, that a lot of your problems would be ridiculously solvable.  Yet over and over, the good doctor illustrates just how pathetic he is.

Remember World War Hulk?  The Hulk goes on a rampage in New York City.  While I don't deny the Hulk is an unstoppable brute, he's still just a giant guy who specializes in smashing things.  I imagine that if Dr. Strange challenged Hulk to a boxing match, it'd be over pretty quick.  But Dr. Strange is a sorcerer.  All he has to do is wave his hands and transport Hulk to another dimension.  BAM!  Problem solved.

Spider-Man's Aunt May gets shot.  A single gunshot wound is somehow beyond Dr. Strange's powers to cure.  There's some stupid "law of plot device" rule invoked, but it doesn't change the fact that, despite being able to defend the entire Earth dimension from alien monster gods, the Doc can't save an old woman's life.

In the new Marvel Divas comic, Firestar has cancer.  A consultation with Dr. Strange proves that, once again, he can't do jack about it.  Can we go ahead and call this guy a loser already?

Don't give me that "Can't interfere with the natural order of the universe" bull.  That's all he does.  That's his job.  He casts spells, invokes unnatural forces, and otherwise screws with the way the universe functions on a daily basis.  I'm not suggesting he should cure all diseases in the world.  But if you can't restore even one mortal life, then what good are you?

I could, of course, mention the same thing about Mr. Fantastic, who can build time machines in his spare time but hasn't gotten around to solving global warming or a renewable energy source.  But you can probably figure out all the arguments I'd put forth by now.

So there you have it, gang.

Y'know what I'd like?  A Deadpool movie.  I'd really, really like that.

One of the things that I feel modern comics are missing is a new character to step up.  We haven't seen that in a while.  Where is the next Spider-Man or Wolverine, Batman or Superman?

I don't think a great new character has been introduced in a long, long time.  Plenty of characters have been added to the world of comics, but most of those lack that timeless quality to extend their reign.  Spawn may have been big in the 90's, but that's kind of his problem.  He's too 90's.  Spawn is to the 90's as The Hypno-Hustler is to the 70's.  Yes, I said it.  Who says I shy away from controversy?

Invincible is a somewhat popular hero, but I'm still not certain he'll have staying power.  Gravity could've been great, but Marvel threw him away without a second thought.  Nobody but me wants a Slapstick ongoing series (which just shows how far ahead of the curve I am compared to your average citizen).  Supergirl and X-23 are just lame knock offs that exist only in some half-hearted attempt to make female characters without having to try anything original.  I could name a dozen other characters, all with potential to break out, but I still say that Deadpool IS the next breakout character.  Or he could be if Marvel had the guts to actually make him work.

I know I'm the guy who is always complaining about how dark modern comics are, and I stand by that complaint.  But I also figure, if you're going to go ahead and go dark, then try to do something different with it.  And Deadpool is perfect for that because he's dark, but he's funny.  He's twisted, psychotic, but not exactly a villain either.  He might have no problem killing you, but in the end of the day, he's still not entirely a bad guy.

Bottom line:  Deadpool is the best parts of Spider-Man and Wolverine wrapped in one terrific anti-hero package.  If Marvel can't make this work, then they don't deserve to be publishing comics today.

Their new projects have toyed with bloodshed and more "mature" material.  The first Ultimate Avengers animated film was solid, and the Hulk Vs. animated film (especially the Wolverine segment) was great fun.  Wolverine actually got to stab some people, and Deadpool lost an arm.  That's just awesome.  Clearly, Marvel is willing to give these sort of gritty characters a shot.

Even in the new Wolverine live action movie, Wade Wilson steals the show until he's reduced to a mute puppet because the writers of that particular film didn't have enough sense to realize how awesome Deadpool is.

I've given comics in general (and Marvel specifically) a lot of crap over the years.  I still don't buy any mainstream Marvel comic simply because I don't have the time, money, or interest to read internimable stories that go nowhere and end badly.  Even Deadpool's promising new series lost me as soon as it delved into endless crossover hell.  (Note to Marvel: No matter how much you try and sell it, Norman Osborne will never be Lex Luthor.  Also, Sentry is a really stupid character, and you should have Mephisto retcon him away as soon as possible.  But I digress.)

That's why I want to see an animated Deadpool in his own movie.  His own PG-13 Merc with a Mouth adventure that could totally rock if they just had the balls to do it.  C'mon, gang.  Let's get on this.  Write letters or sign petitions or send out good vibrations.  Whatever it takes.

Deadpool deserves his own animated film.

If, on the other hand, this doesn't happen, then I guess I could settle for a Squirrel Girl film.  But I'm not going to settle for anything else.  Deadpool or Squirrel Girl.  Those are your only two options, Marvel.

Now get it done.