Showing posts with label Brian Michael Bendis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brian Michael Bendis. Show all posts

Thursday, November 13, 2008

BBC Breakfast Watch! World Of Warcraft Will Kill You Stone Dead

I've not watched BBC Breakfast for a while, replacing the misery of watching Bill Turnbull and Sian Williams (aka Mail-tuttery-personified) with the endurance test that is Atlas Shrugged. Well, I say that, but I will admit to taking a break from that as well, so that I could binge on Ed Brubaker's genius run on Captain America (surely the classic Cap run) and Ultimate Spider-Man by Bendis (on top form, thankfully) and Stuart Immonen. I know! I should end that frigging book, but I needed to see the new Captain America kick some right-wingers around, especially now that they're feeling so down. Obama's got a mandate, bitches! A mandate! Suck it up!

Anyway, this morning I paid more attention to BBC Breakfast than is healthy, primarily because today some evil corporate bastards have unleashed a new weapon against humanity, striking against our precious children by chaining them to an artificial reality in order to drain them of their resources, their souls, their potential. Such an apocalyptic event deserved full expression of their dismay, as they tried valiantly to prevent the theft of an entire generation. Yes, though it sickens me to say it, Blizzard released another WoW expansion pack. Those evil mind-controlling motherfuckers! Save the children from that thing we don't quite understand but will distrust anyway just to be on the safe side!


As soon as I saw the two disapproving parent-archetypes sitting on their sofa with all of the moral authority of two angry bags of compost, announcing the imminent discussion with all of the severity their little brains could muster, my heart sank. As I have said before when railing against this most insultingly alarmist show, I understand that early morning TV is meant to be light, but surely the release of an MMORPG expansion pack for one of the most successful, popular, and beloved games in the world is not going to bring about the death of childhood, and so acting like it is is surely the antithesis of "light chatter". I missed the start of the show, but Canyon informed me that even before their little snippy piece about the game began, they predictably brought up the death of a South Korean gamer from exhaustion which, in traditional BBC Breakfast style, was linked to World of Warcraft when, in fact, the guy died playing Starcraft. A small point, but indicative of the rigour with which the disapproving Luddites had researched the piece.

I almost didn't watch. It's been a while since I spent time watching Bill and Sian, simply because they make me so mad I can barely stand it. For all I know they have been railing against gaming with miserable regularity. "The release of a game called The Force Unleashed has raised concerns that children may turn to the Dark Side after playing it." "This game, Spore, encourages children to cultivate and eat diseases!" "Your children are at threat from LittleBigPlanet, which might make your children sew themselves into sacks!" Of course, this morning they were particularly terrible, using their stern faces to register disgust over the thought of anyone daring to play computer games which corrupt minds and destroy lives and many other imaginary things.

Though they've done this before, and even though they were talking (down) to three WoW fans instead of having some typically ineffectual and token balanced debate (which is usually conducted with the inclusion of some non-gaming crazy person with a head full of suspicion and fear), their behaviour this morning was even more snotty and dismissive as usual, probably because they resented wasting their time discussing something as "silly" as a game when OMG! They had the thrill of introducing a previously filmed clip of a BBC journo on a press junket interviewing Angelina Jolie about Changeling! The glamour of presenting BBC Breakfast should never be sullied with something as decadent and corrupting as a mere game. Get off our sofa, worthless fools, I could imagine Sian saying, as Bill sits and devours numerous custard creams while humming the theme to Dixon of Dock Green.


I felt especially bad for one player, Marijke Jensen, who was still clad in the Night Elf costume she had been wearing to the special release event at HMV Oxford Circus last night. It was a cool costume, and after Bill had expressed a somewhat unhealthy interest in it, she seemed to not expect his sneering "Whyyyyyyyyyyy?" because, you know, you don't think a TV presenter would be openly rude and dismissive like that, though she was friendly enough to defuse the moment with a genial acknowledgement that wearing something like that might seem extreme to, say, a trad-dad square from the McCarthy era magically transported to W1, 2008. The other guests, a hardcore player (Ben West) who had also attended the launch, and Tim Edwards from PC Gamer Magazine, then had to put up with Bill and Sian stumbling to understand what the game involves, not to mention returning to the same goddamn question, over and over again, about how long people play it. The poor guy who attended the launch, who had waited 36 hours in line, was mocked by Bill for waiting so long, but at least he tried to explain that he did it for the feeling of being a part of something, a community of like-minded people, that playing the game is a social thing and leads to real friendships (as regular Shades of Caruso visitor Jaredan can attest to). It's something Bill can't understand, as the only community he belongs to is Daily Mail Island, and they despise the BBC. It must be horribly depressing for him.

The piece continued for only a few minutes, but it felt like a million years, with both presenters tut-tutting at the amount of time devoted players spent on the game, and then reading out one viewer email from a Concerned Mother who complained at her 18-year old son's daily WoW marathons (12 hours a day, which seems excessive and probably exaggerated for effect), stating that he has no friends. Of course, anyone who plays the game will know that it's very easy to make friends online, and the game depends on social interaction and cooperation, but parents (and Bill and Sian, obviously) won't accept that because internet friends can't possibly exist or mean anything to their children, oblivious to the fact that they are probably grateful to meet people with the same hobby as them, who don't judge them for doing something they enjoy. After that single negative email Sian deigned to read a positive one, prefaced with the dismissive and frustrated bleat, "I have to say, the majority have been positive because they do play the game," which is the perfect example of how her mind remains closed against new information. Closed, because otherwise all of the Hypothetical Idiots she has invented will come spilling out, babbling hysterically, running into traffic, or eating quicklime, or maybe even playing a computer game for eight days without a break and then dying from dehydration.


As I said earlier, this anti-gaming suspicion is something I've gone on about before, and it's a really silly thing to get annoyed about, but the Today Programme is also getting in on the technophobia with a depressingly one-sided report, and the BBC News homepage features this special report, which makes me suspect the corporation is secretly really pissed at the failure of Fightbox. (Night Elf Marijke is on the far left on the homepage picture.)

Still, despite the depressing blanket suspicion across the BBC's coverage, I'm most incensed by Bill and Sian's obnoxious behaviour, telling their guests off for playing WoW for any amount of time (Bill kept tutting, "That's still a lot" no matter what the response), frowning constantly and belittling them for having an interest in something they don't understand. With the only "professional" interviewed being a young journalist, they felt free to treat their guests like ill-behaved delinquents, sniping at them and their hobby with distasteful arrogance. Even Bill's "jokes" about the Night Elf's ears were framed as a nasty side-effect of playing too long.

Obviously there is an issue about compulsive playing there; I'd be crazy to deny it (probably driven crazy by obsessive gaming!). However, any pursuit can potentially create obsessive behaviour in those who follow it, and many of the complaints about WoW are coming from parents whose children, who have retreated into what they see as a pointless fantasy world, would probably retreat into some other world away from their parents if they weren't gaming. It's called adolescence, and is a fact of life. Nevertheless, that coverage is not what annoys me. It's the distrustful attitude of much of the mainstream media, possibly resentful that young eyeballs are being stolen by gaming (or whatever the dehumanising term for viewing figure decline is this week), that gaming is always framed in terms of the harm it must do to children, that it is never seen as a positive thing or a potential source of much artistic value, that the fact that it brings people together is treated with much amusement by commentators stuck in their 20th Century world and unable to believe that social networking via any new form of technology can be enormously empowering and, at its most base level, a lot of fun. Families are being formed or brought together because of these developments. It's not threatening our way of life, it's enhancing it. Embrace our machine friends!

Most immediately, though, I'm furious about the rude attitude of Bill and Sian, who acted like stern parents to these total strangers, all of whom are over the age of 18 and surely deserving of some respect. It was bordering on bullying behaviour, to be honest, and I'm sick of seeing gamers treated like potentially unstable children. Even worse, I feel especially bad for gamers who have been up all night, filled with excitement about the release of a long-awaited expansion pack and happy to have been part of a joyful event populated by people who share the same interests as them, turning up to a BBC studio to enthuse about their hobby only to be treated like delusional freaks or criminals by the sub-moronic presenters of this appalling, amateurish, poorly researched piece of shit show.


Compare Bill and Sian's awful treatment of the three gamers with their fawning interview of singer and sentient oil slick Jonathan Ansell, whose oleaginous insincerity was only matched by their boundless delight at his dreary anecdotes about how wonderful he is. A truly nauseating display. If I could I'd organise a boycott of the show by bombarding gamer and legendary literary leviathan Charlie Brooker with incensed all-caps emails, but that's just the fatigue-induced temporary insanity talking, and has nothing to do with my recent Civilisation Revolution binges, which have lasted for up to five hours. Nothing to do with that at all.

Still, it was not all misery. They also had Dragon's Den judge Duncan Bannatyne on. I've yet to express my immense frustration at these pompous, self-aggrandising sinkholes who have convinced the BBC, a publicly funded corporation, to air a show that allows them to interview inventors and cherry-pick the best ideas for investment, from which they then make a fat wad of cash. Truly imaginative entrepreneurial thinking, there. Of course, I take great pleasure every time I hear that one of their rejects, usually dismissed with derision and laughter, has become a huge success without their minimal investment (usually offered in exchange for almost punitive shares in the new businesses). If I came up with a solid idea, the last thing I would do is give these crooks a chance to absorb my profits with their rapacious plundering.


Anyway, Bannatyne was on, and looking grumpier than usual. I wonder why? (There was a copy of the Sun sitting around the studio earlier in the show, during the sports news, and I can imagine it was whisked away and hidden with a quickness once they were done with it. Poor Duncan.)

ETA: Good to see I'm not the only one annoyed by Sian and Bill's arrogant embrace of technological ignorance, and worded with far more elegance than I can muster to boot.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

This Week In TV Year II (Week 3, cont.)

As promised yesterday, more of the same.

Potential Plagiarism of the Week:

This week's big scientifical revelation in Fringe, that some ill-defined bad guys are using a mode of tech-lepathy called The Ghost Network, sounds awfully like something Warren Ellis would cook up, right down to the cyber-hip name. It sounds so much like one of his ideas that it gave me deja vu that persists days later. Has Ellis come up with this concept before? Did they rip him off? He's so prolific that can't keep track of every mad thing he has come up with, so until someone sets me right, I'm going to fret about it.

Actual Plagiarism of the Week:

Tim Kring has been eager to stress that he doesn't read comics, thus making any similarities between the show and anything in any comic ever a total coincidence. So does this mean he's now going to say in interviews that he's never seen Cronenberg's The Fly?


Our jaws dropped at the shockingly obvious plagiarism of Suresh's transformation into a wall-climbing superhuman shag-beast whose body is turning into something slimy and unpleasant (much like his original personality). It was just like the movie, even down to the shots of him staring into a mirror in horror, and scaling the walls of his loft before ravishing the nearest hott woman.


Still, even though this means, as Canyon pointed out, we've had to put up with way too many shots of Suresh coated in lard, it does mean we'll get to see him pontificate on insect politics before having his head blown off by a sobbing Maya. I'll get the popcorn ready for that turn of events.

Self-Plagiarism of the Week:

Announcing the season arc for Heroes with a flourish of impressive special effects, we were unfortunately treated to some not ao impressive ideas. Just like the first season, Hiro travels into the future and sees a city (this time Tokyo) destroyed by an enormous explosion.


I mean, this is a joke, right? Or there's more to it. There has to be. Maybe it's a bomb that has the Shanti virus in it, just to rip off the second season as well.

Fashion Faux-Pas of the Week:

Outside the Heroesverse it was either the new, relaxed Daniel Meade, who is only a backwards baseball cap away from total Durst-ocity...


...or Michael Le Traceur and his military beret that looks way too much like a moob stuck to his scalp.


Inside the Heroesverse it was either the futuristic angry garb of Peter "Greaser" Petrelli...


...or Maya Goopez who, as a Hispanic woman, is obviously required by TV law to dress like Hilda Suarez from Ugly Betty.


The costume department couldn't think of any other way to dress her? I guess part of it was so that BrundleSuresh could yank her clothes off and have his way with her at a moment's notice, but otherwise, it's unimaginative and a bit insulting.

Bitchface of the Week:

Robin Tunney spent most of the running time of The Mentalist rolling her eyes and looking really hacked off.






Whereas House's antics exasperate those around him, they still respect him and his intelligence. The cops that work with Patrick Jane, aka The Mentalist, seem to just hate him, and barely even appreciate his Amazing Powers of the Brain. It's enough of a difference to make the formula work without seeming to be more of the same.

Mystery of the Week:

That subtitle makes it seem like I'm really fascinated by the big mystery in Fringe, i.e. who or what is the CEO of Massive Dynamics, what is his connection to Dr. Walter Bishop, and should the company's name be spoken a la Alan Partridge, with the emphasis heavily on the MASSive? To be honest, I'm only mildly intrigued by this (and what The Pattern is), especially when compared to the WTFness of Lost's pilot, with its many fascinating mysteries. However, the Fringe questions are definitely interesting enough to keep me tuning in, and that's before we get to Dr. Walter Bishop and the soothing voice of Anna "Vanatron" Torv. So, here are my guesses for who William Bell, CEO of MASSive Dynamics, is.

  • The clone of Dr. Walter Bishop (this is a popular theory on the internets).
  • The male clone of Olivia Dunham.
  • A miniaturised man operating Nina Sharp's arm from a little operating booth within said arm, as a homage to box office titan Meet Dave.
  • The Fringe universe itself (with the various characters representing different aspects of his personality).
  • A steam-powered clockwork robot constructed by Alexander Graham Bell, Charles Babbage, and Michael Faraday.
  • A swarm of black nanobots that can be repelled by a sonic fence.
  • Doktor Sleepless.
  • Albert Einstein after drinking from the Fountain of Youth.
  • A heckuva guy!!!
  • A cloud of living thoughts in a jar, made crazy in isolation and now plotting revenge.
  • The secret child of Rock Hudson and Doris Day, conceived at the behest of a cabal of Cthulhu-worshippers, and fated to bring about the return of the Elder Gods, Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!
  • An unholy genetic hybrid of Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Walt Disney, Rupert Murdoch, Masaru Ibuka, and Andy Dick.
  • Keyser Soze.

  • I demand prizes if any of these is right.

    Passive Aggressive Jerk of the Week:

    Upon being confronted by his annoying mother about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, Greaser Petrelli snaps, "Sorry mom, I'm too busy saving the world right now."


    We were hoping he would follow that up by saying, "Saving it with string, mom. String!"

    Unedifying Sight of the Week:

    Paula Garces, who spent a period on The Shield being unbearably snotty and unprofessional to everyone else working at The Barn while being groomed by Dutch Wagenbach in a particularly depressing subplot, has taken a break from appearing in televisual excellence to be treated like a big sexpot on Knight Rider. Seeing her disembark from a car with gullwing doors from a seat that is way too low was utterly depressing. It's not her fault, obviously, but did no one realise that showing a hott spy struggling to get out of a car had the opposite effect of that intended, i.e. to get the teenage boys at home all excited?







    The series of pictures above range across about five minutes of screentime. (This is a lie.) If you could see it in motion you'd understand why it's so awful. Poor Paula Garces, forced to dress like someone from an Austin Powers movie.


    Still, at least she inspired Jerell when coming up with a pop-style outfit for the odious and bratty Kenley on this week's Project Runway.


    Lose, you whiny brat, LOSE!

    Career Move of the Week:

    An end to our pain...


    Run, Stephen Tobolowsky! Run for the hills! And if they want you back for a flashback or dream sequence, just say no.

    Gupta of the Week:

    Zoe, the button-pusher in Knight Rider, is so ill-conceived, mean, and relentlessly smug, that it shows up the entire awful show for the mistake that it is. There is no charm here, no humour, no excuse. Lowlights include:

  • Reacting to the imminent fiery death of Michael Le Traceur and Sarah Blandhott by sleazily delivering the line, "This just got interesting."
  • Reacting to the lucky escape everyone gets from being killed by a napalm-coated morphing supercar crashing into a closed door by saying, "That was awesome." She trots out another awesome when her colleague, Billy, "comically" passes out.
  • Saying "Owned!" to Billy after KITT chides him in Kilmeresque monotone. That one was for the kidz!
  • Sneering at a highly stressed Billy that, "You'd better hope this works, because if it doesn't..." meaning, "...our two colleagues will burn to death," all the while smiling at some fixed point off camera, which is the least inspiring comment ever given to a rapidly-typing computer nerd during an emergency.



  • Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put a catty bitch in this cast? Is she meant to be funny? Sassy? All she is is a skinny burr under our mind-saddle. It's like someone wandered into the Knight Rider HQ from an America's Next Top Model photoshoot. There is no scenario conceivable that makes this decision work.

    Silliest Exposition of the Week:

    While going through a list of supervillains, Noah Bennett tells newly glum daughter Claire what each of their superpowers are. The German is Magneto, Pyrokinetic Man is Pyro, and Jesse... Well, you don't want to know! Except that anyone with the superpower of being able to read can see that his superpower doesn't sound so bad.


    So, basically he's Paul Oakenfold.


    I'm shaking in my boots.

    Over-Used Plot Device of the Week:

    Brain surgery! It's grisly, it's scary, it's slowly becoming boring. If it's not Chase the Moron poking around in Felicia Day's medulla oblongata...


    ...it's Dr. Walter Bishop moving a blob of liquid metal around Bill Hicks-lookalike Zac Orth's visual and auditory centres...


    ...or it's Sylar doing... well, something nasty to Claire's brain.


    I love that Tim Kring said we would get an answer to the question of what Sylar does to brains in order to acquire powers. Well, now we know. He does something nasty. Thanks Tim!

    Improbable Transformation of the Week:

    After an act of stupidity so profound that it drove Canyon into a fit of rage, Betty ends up renting the worst apartment ever without viewing it first because of an attack of plot-contrivitis.


    As if that wasn't annoying enough, in the final scenes Hilda, Justin and Ignacio save the day with about eight hours of decorating, leaving the apartment looking so good Betty and her heinous stockings have a little dance to celebrate.


    I have to keep reminding myself that this is a fairytale, and that in the Ugly Bettyverse, nothing can trump The Power of Family. Still, though.

    Intensity of the Week:


    It almost burns, the intensity.

    So, a busier week than I expected, but with a bit of actual entertainment, a promising new show, and lots of unintentional humour. So what does Brian Michael Bendoom think?


    That's some dastardly indifference right there.

    Friday, September 26, 2008

    Reed Richards Is Brane Smart

    From Secret Invasion #6:


    "Hold on, Tony, sorry to interrupt. Reed? I know I'm just your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, and I'm not as brane smart as you are, but seriously, can't we be detected even though we have a cloak? I mean, it stands to reason that a fleet of cloaked ships would need to know where the rest of the fleet is, otherwise a bunch of invisible ships would keep crashing in mid-air because they can't see each other, which means the Skrulls probably could detect us, right?"
    "SHUT UP PETER I AM SMARTER THAN YOU!"


    And don't you forget it.