It’s Not Like Anyone’s Reading This Anyway

That night when LITERALLY THE ENTIRE FUCKING CITY OF CALGARY ALBERTA crams into the call queue at once when there are only two people including yourself on Saturday overnight to report flooding and hailstorm damage, because apparently the Western Plains of Canada might as well be fucking Venice if it ever rains, and after FIVE STRAIGHT GODDAMN FUCKING HOURS of nothing but back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back calls, you FINALLY get a Goddamn fucking lunch break and realize you can’t eat because your jaw has been clenched for so long that it hurts too much to chew.

Star Trek Picard: Season One

I really wanted to see Star Trek: Picard and Season 2 of Discovery, but didn’t want to pay for CBS All Access, so when they announced their 30-day free trial offer, I jumped on it.

To recap the pilot, Picard was haunted in his retirement not only by the death of Data but the deaths of Romulans that Picard failed to save after the implosion of their homeworld. But then he is approached by Dahj (Isa Briones), a girl who seems to be Data’s offspring, and who is hunted and eventually killed by Romulan agents. And in trying to find out exactly what is going on after the fact, Picard discovers that Dahj was created with a twin sister.

Picard’s main staff, Romulan refugees, tell him that the Tal Shiar intelligence agency is only a front for an even older and more sinister conspiracy called the Zhat Vash, which is specifically dedicated to the extermination of all synthetic life on the premise that it will inevitably destroy organics. This conspiracy has reached into the highest levels of Star Fleet Intelligence and turns out to be behind the android attack on Mars that led to the Federation ban on synthetic life.

So the episodes confirm that the Federation, once democratic and tolerant, has become creepy, prejudiced and crypto-fascist, because it’s been secretly under the influence of a defeated enemy which has always preferred to act with espionage and skullduggery.

I’m not sayin’, folks… I’m just sayin’.

Having already decided to find Dahj’s twin, Picard is required to find a ship and a crew and ends up with a party who are each dysfunctional in their own way: “Raffi” (Michelle Hurd) a former aide to Admiral Picard turned burned-out conspiracy theorist; Dr. Agnes Jurati (Alison Pill) a young scientist who Picard interviewed for her android research but who is conflicted about helping him; Captain Rios (Santiago Cabrera), once a promising Starfleet officer who quit after witnessing his commander commit murder-suicide, and Elnor, a young Romulan warrior (Evan Evagora) whom Picard had befriended as a refugee but was abandoned when the Federation withdrew its support for Romulans. In the course of all this, Picard, after decades of diplomatic service, seems to have bought into his own hype; several times he thinks that his powers of reason and persuasion will save the day, and he usually gets shown otherwise.

Star Trek: Picard Season One is a story about a familiar hero in sunset, if not necessarily decline. I found it to be often moving, well-acted, and usually well-directed. (It stands to reason that the most fun episodes are the ones directed by Jonathan Frakes.) However, I didn’t think it was that well-written. For instance when Dr. Jurati shows up at Picard’s home at just the right time, it’s an obvious Romulan set-up, yet nobody seems to notice even after the set-up later becomes more obvious. It’s a bit pat that all the supporting characters (including Riker, Troi and Seven of Nine) all have traumas that trace directly to the current sociopolitical situation. And the scripts completely fail to address the conflict that sets the story rolling: If synthetics are being hunted by Romulans, and are banned by the Federation, and there turns out to be a whole planet of them where Dahj and Soji came from, why was it necessary to raise the twins on Earth as though they were Human?

This leads to a huge spoiler that I will have to go into because it is part of the whole premise of Season One and will reflect how things proceed with Picard in Season Two.

In the Next Generation series, the main theme of Commander Data’s story lines were his attempts to become more human (for lack of a better word). This was sometimes thwarted by prejudice against him as both an officer and a sentient being. There was at least one episode where a Federation scientist attempted to procure Data for scientific experiments, which required Picard and his crew to defend Data in court. And after Nemesis (where Data discovered his ‘B-4’ prototype and later died to save the Enterprise), it seems that B-4 was disassembled by Federation scientists and and some point after that a drone class of androids was created as a labor force. And after those androids destroyed the Mars colony, the Federation outright banned artificial life.

This is the spoiler: Dr. Soong’s descendant (Brent Spiner) found an isolated planet and used it to create an entire race of synthetics who mostly kept to themselves. Their first contact with the Federation was aborted when Rios’ captain killed the emissaries. And once Picard and Rios reach the homeworld, the androids discover that there is an entire “federation” of synthetics who are willing to exterminate all organic life to protect themselves. And in order to protect this planet from Romulan attack, the synthetics must weigh whether to summon this force, knowing that it would kill the Romulans and Federation alike and thus justify the Romulan fear.

This is the REAL spoiler: after Picard helps resolve the final confrontation, he succumbs to his previously diagnosed terminal illness. But the scientists on the planet download his brain patterns into an artificial body. And before he wakes up, Picard has a final goodbye with Commander Data, who was indeed downloaded through B-4, but who asks Picard to terminate his consciousness, having decided that life only has meaning if it is finite. (Just as well, frankly: all the gold makeup in the world can’t disguise the natural sag of Brent Spiner’s face.)

This denouement creates a certain symmetry (it also explains the digital title sequence), but there are also a couple of themes in Season One that it cuts across. One, the prejudice against synthetics would have been that much more a source of conflict if Picard himself is now an android, but now that the Federation has exposed the Romulan conspiracy in Starfleet, it’s announced in passing that the ban on synths is lifted. Not only that, the show seemed to lean heavily into the theme of age and death, with a certain parallel between character and actor: Patrick Stewart is not terminally ill, but the show is promoted as though it were Picard’s last adventure because it isn’t clear how many years Patrick Stewart has left, either. And even if Picard’s new body is basically the same as the old one minus the fatal abnormality, the fact that he has a second lease on life means that the central message of the finale – embracing mortality – is somewhat blunted.

But overall: Not bad. This series has presented a new cast of characters and reset the table on the “Prime” universe (as opposed to the setting history of Discovery or the parallel ‘Abramsverse’) so things could go in any number of directions with Star Trek: Picard Season Two. And if Patrick Stewart has to bow out, the producers could always shift focus to Cristobal Rios, The Most Interesting Captain in the Galaxy.

Life in The Time of Corona

In Nevada, Governor Steve Sisolak declared a 30-day shutdown of non-essential businesses – including bars and casinos – effective March 18. My roommate, who was working conventions in Las Vegas, has been laid off for at least 90 days. My sister, who is handling the mortgage on my house, has been laid off from her casino job. I find myself in the unusual position of being the most financially stable member of the household.

Since Donald Trump has been made aware that taking the coronavirus seriously would do less damage to his polls than standing with his thumb up his ass and blaming the Chinese and Democrats for a “hoax,” the Trump Organization has been floating some initiatives to provide relief for people who have been made unemployed by the crisis. One plan pushed by Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin is to provide each American adult with at least one $1000 check.

So as an anti-tax, anti-deficit libertarian, am I gonna take that thousand-dollar check? FUCK YEAH! Why? Well for one thing, let’s not be too quick to assume that Trump is gonna keep the government’s promise on that. I’m still waiting for him to lock Hillary up.

Second, liberals always tell me that “taxes are the price we pay for a civilized society.” Well, as far as I’m concerned, we need a money-back guarantee. That’s how I think of this check. The government has failed to provide a civilized society, so I want my fuckin’ money back.

And if anybody’s got a problem with spending so much money, then maybe somebody shouldn’t have voted for a reality TV star and his short bus full of sycophants because “owning” was more important to them than qualifications. See, there’s being a capitalist and there’s being just plain greedy, and if you wonder how capitalism got such a bad name, it’s because so many declared fans of capitalism can’t seem to tell the difference. Y’all didn’t care that your boy was pissing on the Constitution and putting migrants in (non-socially isolated) cages, because “sure, Trump has problems, but the economy is great!” Well, now this week, YOUR president has had the stock market go under 20,000 and virtually wiped out the gains made by the Dow Jones since Trump was inaugurated, now that Las Vegas, and New York, “the city that never sleeps” have been put into forced hibernation. If it makes you feel better Trumpniks, at least now your 401Ks know what the rest of us have felt like for three years.

So yeah, gimme that government money. Cause it’s government‘s fault that able-bodied people who would otherwise have jobs can’t work. They need to pay us, because we are their victims.

Lest that last line seem like hyperbole, I refer to the other scandal that hit the news in the past two days.

Richard Burr (BR.-North Carolina) is the head of the Senate Intelligence Committee, and NPR reported that on February 27 – when Donald Trump was saying “One day, it’s like a miracle. It will disappear” – Burr told a social club meeting, “(The virus) is much more aggressive in its transmission than anything that we have seen in recent history,” according to a secret recording of the remarks obtained by NPR. “It is probably more akin to the 1918 pandemic.”

The article says, “Meanwhile, ProPublica released a report Thursday evening showing that Burr had unloaded a substantial amount of stocks in mid-February, before the recent market volatility.

Burr sold personal stocks worth between $628,000 and $1.72 million in 33 separate transactions on a single day, February 13th, according to public disclosures. It was, according to ProPublica, the most stock he’s sold in a single day in 14 months.

“Asked by NPR for a comment on the senator’s stock sales, Burr spokesperson (Caitlin) Carroll replied, “lol.”

It turned out that Burr was not the only Senator who sold stock after hearing briefings on the coronavirus. Others included fill-in Senator Kelly Loeffler (BR.-Georgia), Jim Inhofe (BR.-Oklahoma) and allegedly, Ron Johnson (Br.-Wisconsin).

And yes, Fox News, I am perfectly aware that Dianne Feinstein (D.-California) was one of the Senators who sold off stock, but frankly that is the sort of thing people have come to expect from Dianne Feinstein. The fact that whataboutism sometimes has substance is half the reason people are still voting for Republicans.

The problem is, tu quoque works both ways. If “everybody does it”, then everybody does it, and what reason do you have to prefer one party to another? It’s almost like BOTH parties are crooks, isn’t it? And if you suspect one party would screw up the response to coronavirus, but you know the ruling party HAS screwed up the response to coronavirus, why support them?

Look, I have no problem blaming the virus outbreak on Communist China. Why? Cause not only did the virus start in Wuhan (Hubei province), the one-party state, rather than getting expert advice to contain the spread, they censored at least one doctor who tried to inform the public, who later died of the disease himself. Why? Because they didn’t want the government to look bad.

In Iran, the disease may have taken out even more of the population than it has in Italy, but we may never know because of their government censorship. We do know that various officials in the government, and 8% of all Members of Parliament, have been infected, because no one wanted to announce special precautions until now. Why? Because no one wanted to make the government look bad.

And in the US, the government had access to World Health Organization tests, that they refused to use, there were Senators who were informed about the threat, and not only did they not tell the public, they took advantage to sell stock before the crash. As this opinion article puts it, “Imagine the situation we might be in — even without the Pandemic team that Trump disbanded — if he’d just taken the threat seriously 2 months ago and ordered some f**king masks, gloves, swabs, and tests. Trump could have saved the economy trillions of dollars in losses in exchange for half a billion in supplies.”

This is a global pandemic. It would have crashed the economy regardless, because even if Trump had instituted his xenophobic travel bans to Europe and China in advance, we still would have been cut off from Europe and China. That would have cut off business ventures right there. But the spread of the disease would have been largely contained, and the drastic measures that state governments are announcing would not have been necessary. The government would not need to be spending billions to support able-bodied Americans because we wouldn’t have had to stop going to work. All of this could have been avoided if we had known weeks ago. And we didn’t. Why? Because no one wanted to make the government – specifically, Trump – look bad.

So, to all of you Facebook socialists who say that all of this would have been addressed if we’d had a socialist government, remember that this started in a Communist country because it’s a one-party state where the people closest to government get helped first and everyone else is expendable. Remember that Italy has a social-democrat welfare state, and look where they are. If you want a socialist state, I strongly suggest you vote Republican in November, because they’re doing more to bring that condition about in America than the Democrats. And if you’re a conservative who knows that socialism fails because it protects a political elite at the expense of the rest of the population, I strongly suggest you stop voting Republican. Assuming, of course, that socialism isn’t what you wanted all along.

REVIEW: Star Trek: Picard

I forgot that YouTube was given a promotion to stream the premiere episode of Star Trek: Picard, which means I actually did get to watch it while still boycotting CBS All Access.

In this setting, which is in relative real time from the number of years that Star Trek: The Next Generation went off the air, the Federation is in a dark place. After the implosion of the Romulan sun (which unbeknownst to most people in the ‘Prime’ universe, actually created the Abramsverse), Admiral Jean-Luc Picard led a convoy to escort Romulan survivors to Mars, only to be suddenly attacked by a conspiracy of androids which destroyed much of the Romulan ships along with the Mars colony and Utopia Planitia shipyard. As a result, the manufacture of androids like the late Mr. Data is banned. Picard (Patrick Stewart) is haunted by the loss of Data (who actually died in Star Trek: Nemesis) and by the Mars fiasco, and has retired to live on his ancestral vineyard assisted by some of those Romulan refugees, writing historical analyses.

But when a young computer student in America is attacked by mysterious figures to keep her from “activating,” she experiences a psychic vision that draws her to France to seek Picard’s help. And what happens to her sets Picard on a quest to get to the bottom of a strange conspiracy. And in the last scene, where both Romulans and Humans are investigating a certain artifact, the conspiracy is very sinister indeed.

I haven’t decided if I’m going to succumb and subscribe to CBS All Access for this, but Star Trek: Picard is well worth the effort so far, combining the humanist values of Picard’s best TNG episodes with the skullduggery and intrigue that the setting has gone towards since Deep Space Nine.

Of Captains and Kings

This is another Trump commentary. Sort of.

This Thursday, the new Patrick Stewart series Star Trek: Picard came out, and I still haven’t decided if I want to pay CBS All Access any money when I’m already paying too much for satellite. (I still haven’t seen Discovery Season 2.) But by coincidence, the next day (January 24), the Trump Administration officially unveiled the new symbol for Space Force (which earlier revealed its desert-camo colored uniforms, you know, to blend in to SPACE) and as many of us Trump haters pointed out, the arrowhead with ‘orbit arc’ streak bears more than a little bit of resemblance to the Star Trek Federation military logo. Well, of course this mockery brought out all the Trumpniks on Quora and elsewhere to point out that it’s really just as much the other way around, and that technically (as in, ‘that’s our story and we’re sticking to it’) the logo is actually based on the old Air Force space command logo, as explained in this article. The startrek.com site even says that Gene Roddenberry took the “delta” arrow design as “a direct descendant of the vector component of the old NASA (and later UESPA) logos in use during Earth’s space programs of the 20th and 21st Centuries.”

All quite true, but this is merely eliding the point that the reason the Trek comparison comes up more easily than the Space Command comparison is that the Trek logo is far more prominent in the public sphere, and in this most publicity-conscious of administrations, it is unlikely that the first thought that came to mind was “Hey! That looks just like the Air Force Space Command symbol!”

It’s like how Trumpniks know their boy bankrupted multiple casinos, stiffed his creditors and ended up in debt to shady characters, but they still think he’s a financial genius because he played a billionaire on TV.

But the whole thing indirectly reminded me of a very obscure bit of Star Trek trivia.


Did you know the Star Trek theme has lyrics?

You probably didn’t know this, because they have never been used. As it turns out, there is a very, very good reason for that.

Alexander Courage had written the famous theme music as an instrumental. But midway through the show’s original run, creator Gene Roddenberry, as part of his increasingly desperate attempts to monetize something that wasn’t making much money for NBC, developed lyrics specifically for the purpose of sharing the songwriting credit. And naturally, this pissed off Courage, because this cut his royalties in half. Having contributed to background music for Star Trek’s first two years, Courage never worked with Roddenberry again. And in any event, the lyrics were not only never used, they were never really intended to be used. And if you’ve read them… you know why.

I mean, it’s fairly easy to look up “star trek theme lyrics” on the net, and I could give you the link I found… but I won’t. Gene Roddenberry was a great idea man and an inspiration to multitudes. A poet, he was not.

Really, finding these lyrics was like one of those H.P. Lovecraft stories where the protagonist searches for knowledge not meant for Man, and after discovering how horrible reality truly is, is left bereft and at the verge of insanity.

What this did was inspire me to create my own lyrics for the Original Series theme music, which I would like to present here. After all, every branch of the military has it’s own theme song, and if Trump’s Totally NOT A Ripoff Of Star Trek is going to be a real military service, somebody needs to give them ideas for a song and lyrics, since clearly the Administration has no ideas of its own.

We all know the tune, let’s sing along:

Star Trek – it’s a trek to the stars

Star Trek – we fight Klingons in bars

I can’t

Understand what it is Spock is saying

I hope

No one sees that my hairpiece is fraying

Star Trek – it’s an hour of fun

And then – something happens and somebody dies

Where

Do I go? Who knows-

UN-TIL

NEXT

SHOW!!!!

Neil Peart, RIP

What you say about his company

Is what you say about society

On Friday January 10, it was announced that the drummer for Rush, Neil Peart, had died. This was probably one of the biggest shocks that I’ve had in a while. The cause of death was announced as a brain cancer that he had apparently been fighting for three years. So already 2020 is looking to be a suck-ass year. As far as I’m concerned, 2016 really started when Lemmy died.

Rush started out as an Ontario hard rock band in 1974, composed of guitarist Alex Lifeson, bassist-singer Geddy Lee and drummer John Rutsey, and gained a certain level of Great Lakes fame with the song “Working Man.” But due to health issues complicated by drinking, Rutsey was replaced with Peart after Rush’s debut album. (In the retrospective documentary Beyond the Lighted Stage, Peart is still described as ‘the new guy.’) Not only was Peart a quantum leap ahead of Rutsey as a drummer, he became Rush’s lyricist, at first basing songs on contemporary Fantasy themes like those that inspired Led Zeppelin and would later inspire the creators of Dungeons & Dragons. Rush attracted more attention, not all of it positive, when Peart drew inspiration from writer Ayn Rand, actually naming a song “Anthem” and dedicating the 2112 suite to Rand directly. In later years, Peart was at pains to disassociate himself from Rand, but 2112 – which resembles Rand’s Anthem but is even more dystopian – was the album that really put Rush on the map after early years of struggle. It established Rush as “the thinking man’s metal” and Peart himself as one of the most talented lyricists in rock in addition to one of its most talented drummers. In fact, as Peart continued to explore the themes of individualism and progress against superstition and collectivism, he did so to a greater depth than Rand, going in different directions as in the Permanent Waves song “Natural Science”: “Science, like nature/ Must also be tamed/ With a view towards its preservation/ Given the same State of integrity/ It will surely serve us well/ Art as expression/ Not as market campaigns/ Will still capture our imaginations.”

Not exactly the same approach as Rand, whose work came across to many as a right-wing capitalist mirror to Soviet Socialist Realism.

Peart was not afraid to change his mind or admit his limitations, as when he famously restructured his entire percussion technique after being invited to play with the Buddy Rich Big Band and realizing he couldn’t keep up. It’s generally agreed by journalists and fans that Peart’s transition into what he called a “bleeding-heart libertarian” was pushed greatly by his first real brush with death. That is, not his own. In material terms, if death is simply the end of existence, then none of us really experiences death, because “experience” ceases. What most of us call death is the loss that we feel from the death of other people. In 1997, Peart’s only daughter died at the age of 19 in a car accident. His wife Jacqueline died of cancer just 10 months later, although he described it as the result of a “broken heart.” Utterly devastated, Peart left Rush for several years to take stock of his life. While he did eventually remarry and have a child – and did of course return to Rush – he spent an unscheduled amount of time traveling North America on his motorcycle before returning to music. In 2002 he wrote a book based on his notes of the experience, called Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road. I had been told this is a great book to read even if one never got into Rush’s music. But I just never found the time to buy it and read it.


I will have to make the time.

But today, I can only give thanks to Neil Peart as a true role model for living with integrity, and for writing my personal fight song:

You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice

If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice

You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill
I will choose a path that’s clear

I will choose free will

REVIEW: Star Wars Episode IX – The Rise of Skywalker

A long time ago – 42 years, specifically – George Lucas began what Lucasfilm is now calling “the Skywalker Saga.” And when Lucasfilm allowed JJ Abrams to produce the long-awaited final trilogy of Star Wars, he deliberately chose to model his story on the original trilogy, with similar results. In the first movie, a plucky young hero(ine) stuck on a desert planet meets a cute droid whose files happen to include data that the bad guys are desperate to get. In protecting the droid, the hero meets a new family of friends and discovers a great potential of inner power. In the second movie, the hero separates from the main group to train as a Jedi, while that main group gets progressively more and more screwed. And then in the third movie, the big bad guy turns out to be the pawn of a much worse villain, and in getting the whole thing wrapped up, they cram in a bunch of stuff, and the result ends up being considered the weakest of the three movies.

Episode IX – The Rise of Skywalker is hardly the worst Star Wars movie. That would be Attack of the Clones, which had some of the worst acting and dialogue in any movie period. This film has good acting and likable characters, and it wraps up the main story in dramatically appropriate fashion, but it’s just so busy and takes so long to get there. Plus, while JJ Abrams’ directorial style is often very effective, in this movie, you have the opposite of “lens flare” in that the scenes in Palpatine’s throne room are too dark to see.

But given that Rey is the central character of the trilogy, the reveal of her origins makes perfect sense to me, and it seems like the only way to explain how she developed such natural power before even being trained. And since the central quest of her character was to find her family, the lesson of the story seems to be that family can be self-created.

The other good thing about Episode IX? Maybe all these butthurt fanboys can agree that Rian Johnson wasn’t so bad after all.

REVIEW: Watchmen (HBO) – Further Thoughts

I am writing this piece in reference to my original review of Damon Lindelof’s adaptation of Watchmen for HBO, namely in light of recent episodes and a recent discussion I had about where the last few episodes seem to be going.

Specifically, there was a lot of discussion of episode 6, “This Extraordinary Being”, where it was revealed that Will Reeves, who killed Angela’s mentor Judd Crawford, was not only her grandfather but none other than Hooded Justice, the first costumed hero in the world, a revelation that addressed the whole premise of how black people could get justice in the United States. Even in the short time that the episode has been out, it has gotten a lot of praise for its storyline.

Yeah, but unfortunately this is one of those areas where the right-wingers bashing the “woke” agenda of this series almost have a point.

Mind you, I can understand WHY the producers took this route, since if Alan Moore’s original story had one blind spot, it was that it had no black principals in a story that was all about American politics and culture. In some respect that is the result of an Englishman doing a deconstruction of a white-dominated medium. In other respects, it’s kind of the point. The original series was about a community of costumed heroes in New York whose common element was Captain Metropolis, a charter member of the World War II Minutemen who tried to get the new generation of heroes together in the 1960s in a meeting that ended disastrously. In the background material, Hollis Mason (the original Nite Owl) said that Hooded Justice had made certain pro-Nazi statements in the World War II period, and Captain Metropolis hadn’t really disagreed with them. In the 1960s meeting, Metropolis has a series of cards on the map addressing issues for superheroes to address such as “Promiscuity” and “Black Unrest.”

Under the Hood, the in-story autobiography of Mason also implied that Metropolis (Nelson Gardner) was having an affair with Hooded Justice (and that Silk Spectre I was Justice’s ‘beard’). The total impression being that the two men were a couple and were also united in their racism, even if Metropolis was less overt with it. In retrospect, this might explain the lack of black vigilantes in the original story; they simply weren’t let into the “community” by Metropolis.

“This Extraordinary Being” can be reconciled with Moore’s story, but only to some extent. Given that he is seen in closeup as a Caucasian, it was an interesting point to have Will’s wife suggest he wear makeup under the hood; it conveys the point of a black hero having to wear a mask under the mask. (It also parallels Angela’s use of face paint in addition to a hood to conceal her features as Sister Night.) And Hollis never actually did see Hooded Justice without the mask, so we cannot establish that HJ is NOT Will Reeves. Except: in the comic (drawn by Dave Gibbons) Hooded Justice is depicted as a LOT larger and more muscular than the average man. In the TV show, Jovan Adepo (who plays Reeves in the ’40s) is above average physique, but not that large. For another thing the character has a secret identity as a policeman, and while he would have stood out in that day for being black, he would have stood out even more for his height. This is why, in Under the Hood, Hollis deduced that Justice was actually Rolf Muller, a German-born Bundist and circus strongman who is pictured side-by-side in contrast to a picture of Hooded Justice. Hollis also ascribes racist motives to Hooded Justice that obviously aren’t depicted in the Will Reeves character.

This gets to one more problem in the identification of Hooded Justice with Reeves. Episode 6 does include the idea of Hooded Justice and Captain Metropolis having an affair, but it doesn’t include the one scene in the comics where Hooded Justice actually appears. In this scene, the Comedian (then a young punk) attempts to rape Silk Spectre I, her “boyfriend” Hooded Justice accidentally comes across them and proceeds to thrash Comedian, at which point Comedian deduces his real secret: that he is a sadomasochist who gets off on beating men up. Shocked, Hooded Justice just tells Comedian to get out. The Nelson-Will relationship has some rough-sex elements, but it doesn’t seem as dark as the relationship implied in the comic, nor does the TV Nelson seem racist except in the sense of Nelson telling Will that racial oppression is Will’s problem and not his.

And then the fact that the Comedian is not a factor kills one of the implications of Moore’s Watchmen: That everything happens in cycles. It is implied that once Hooded Justice refused to unmask for the House Un-American Activities Committee he was disgraced and eventually tracked down and assassinated by the Comedian as revenge for his prior humiliation. In the main storyline, Comedian is beaten and killed by Ozymandias, not only because he beat up Ozymandias in their first encounter but because Comedian destroyed his illusions by sabotaging Captain Metropolis’ hero meeting in the ’60s.

And this gets to an overall problem with the series. A recurring motif is the use of Jeremy Irons as a now-elderly Adrian Veidt (Ozymandias) who for reasons unexplained has been exiled to somewhere else in the solar system after his plot against New York was exposed. I think that if the Zack Snyder version of Watchmen fell down anywhere, it was in its effete depiction of Ozymandias, whose motives are central to the story. (And for another thing, if they were going to make Ozymandias openly gay, then why didn’t they let him wear lavender with gold trim?) You have a similar issue with the Irons character, who is an unqualified bad guy. Now, from the racial angle, the ethnically-German Veidt is an Aryan superman, but if you are a right-winger (like Rorschach) you could interpret him as the ultimate example of leftist altruism gone wrong, someone who was willing to kill millions for the sake of the “greater good.”

Thing is, because Moore is a leftist, and specifically opposed “black and white” morality as represented by Rorschach, he didn’t make things as simple as making Veidt an unqualified bad guy, however terrible his actions are. Indeed, Moore set events in such a way that Veidt’s choice seems like the only one to make.

For one thing, the mere presence of Jon Osterman (Doctor Manhattan) as an agent of the US government tipped the superpower balance such that the US could win the Vietnam War, among other things. This parallels the leftist critique that the USSR balanced the USA as well as vice versa, and that since the fall of the Soviet Union, the unipolar world order under America has been neoliberal dystopia at best. (Watchmen was actually written before the fall of the Soviet Union.)

Veidt also deduced that with the humiliation and containment of Russia under this unipolar order, this would actually increase tensions (in a way that they did not in our world) and that the only thing stopping nuclear war was Dr. Manhattan. He further deduced that as Jon (who is like God, only with less people skills) became more alienated from humanity, he would eventually leave it altogether. And after Comedian destroyed Captain Metropolis’ meeting by burning his map to show how nuclear war was inevitable, Ozymandias decided to “save the world” and to top Comedian, decided to do so by what he described as a practical joke: convincing the two superpowers there was a greater threat. And while Veidt deduced that Jon was going to leave Earth anyway, he arranged events to make that outcome more likely, so that he could proceed with the rest of his plan. So while Lindelof’s Watchmen has been both provocative and subtle in addressing the racial politics of America, it has not been nearly as good at depicting the global struggle that Moore addressed in his comic and that informed Ozymandias. Most of what we see proceeds logically from what has been established: Rorschach and Comedian are dead. Nite Owl II is in jail and Laurie, the last Silk Spectre, is working within the government in hopes of getting him out. But what we see of Veidt is a rather hollow depiction of the original character, and if he is not believable, then the premise of Moore’s story collapses, and if there isn’t a payoff in regard to the main plot, then there is little reason for Lindelof’s series to depict him.

Which leads to the last character from the original series. The show had been leaving little hints that if Manhattan was on Earth he was in fact Angela’s husband Cal. For one thing, Laurie is attracted to him. (Though as a strictly hetero male, I will concede that Yahya Abdul-Mateen is hot.)

The last episode established not only that Cal is Jon, but that Angela has been aware of this the whole time and Cal has not. It was also established that Senator Keene’s Seventh Kavalry plot was in fact an elaborate attempt to find Dr. Manhattan and steal his power. As Lady Trieu put it, “can you imagine that kind of power in the hands of white supremacists?” So Angela raced home and actually killed Cal, in order to pull a device out of his skull that was suppressing his true self.

So a few days ago, my Facebook friend Robert asked me, “so where do you think this Watchmen plot is going?”

And I said, “did you ever see a Doctor Who storyline called The Family of Blood?”

In this story, a race of asshole aliens, who cannot survive very long outside of their hosts, decided to steal The Doctor’s Time Lord essence in order to live forever. They were about ready to destroy the TARDIS, so the Doctor and his companion Martha decided to lay low in 1913 England. And because the aliens were able to track his essence, the Doctor used the “Chameleon Arch” of the TARDIS to contain that essence in a pocket watch, actually transforming his biology to human and creating a whole new identity and history that he believed was real. Thus, he couldn’t reveal himself to his pursuers. What the Doctor didn’t anticipate was that he would settle down and fall in love. So when the aliens came to the town and started terrorizing the people, Martha told “John Smith” the truth and he was forced to choose between becoming the Doctor and his happy normal life. Eventually the Doctor used the pocket watch as bait to get into the aliens’ spaceship and destroy it, and once he did he punished his enemies by locking them in individual moments of space -time. “We wanted to live forever. So the Doctor made sure that we did.”

The Family of Blood storyline encapsulated a theme that the producers of Doctor Who had been running with ever since the 21st Century reboot and especially during the David Tennant era. That theme being: The Doctor is not an eccentric but kindly Englishman who just happens to have been born on another planet. He is an Elder God who just happens to be on the side of the Good Guys, and if you get him sufficiently pissed off, you will literally regret it for all eternity.

I predict that we are going to get a similar resolution in Watchmen, but again with a deliberately racial angle, given that you have a racist conspiracy going against Doctor Manhattan, who is now a black man. The difference being that Manhattan’s superpowers make the change in identity a more plausible retcon than with Will Reeves.

Again, it’s a great story. It’s just increasingly removed from the one Moore actually wrote.

The reason I don’t cry more is because of a certain irony that I don’t think Alan Moore himself wants to admit. He’s been bitching for years that DC took his characters and used them for commercial purposes that he didn’t intend, but the whole point of Watchmen was to be a politicized retcon of someone else’s work – specifically, the Charlton Comics line up of heroes that DC Comics had just obtained. And Dick Giordano, a former Charlton staffer who helped obtain the characters, asked Moore to produce a story with these new intellectual properties, and had to reject the first proposal where Peacemaker was killed right off the bat, The Question was a whackjob (as in, BY Objectivist standards) and Peter Cannon, Thunderbolt was the mastermind of a plot that killed half of New York.

REVIEW: Pathfinder 2nd Edition (Part Two)

Last time I went over the first six chapters of the Pathfinder Second Edition core rulebook. Since I’m off on Thanksgiving, I am releasing the second half of the review, since this book, like the Thanksgiving feast, is a bit overstuffed.

Chapter 7 is Spells. There are several changes in how spells work. Some of these are just clarifications to terminology. In addition to the nine schools, spells are classified on “the four essences” of Matter, Spirit, Mind and Life. For example, Enchantment and Illusion spells almost entirely deal with Mind. Then you have four magical traditions: Arcane (Wizard, basically), Divine (Cleric, but also anything dealing with the Outer Planes, which actually makes demons and devils divine casters), Primal (Druid) and then Occult. So far, Bards are the only example of Occult casters (‘The practitioners of occult traditions seek to understand the unexplainable, categorize the bizarre, and otherwise access the ephemeral in a systematic way.’) but if they ever bring psionics back into the system, it will most likely be under Occult. As mentioned before, a Sorcerer could follow any of these traditions depending on their bloodline.

They also changed the spell slots so that most spell levels, even 1st, only get a max of 3 spell slots a day, although some classes get around this. Specifically, most casters have a focus pool that starts with 1 point that can only be used to cast a specific spell or group of spells (for instance a Champion uses the focus pool to cast lay on hands, and specialist Wizards gain a focus pool that can only be used to cast their specialist school spell.) This focus pool can be added to but can never go above 3 points. In addition, casters still have cantrips, basic abilities that don’t use up spell slots. Characters are also able to cast heightened spells, which means casting a spell with a slot higher than its base level. For instance, casting 1st-level heal as a 2nd-level spell increases the damage it heals by 1 die. The book also states that cantrips are automatically heightened to half the caster’s level rounded up, so that the cantrips of a 5th level caster count as 3rd-level spells.

In terms of actually casting, this is defined in game terms as the Cast a Spell activity, which takes a special number of actions based on the spell’s description. Usually material (or focus), verbal and somatic components are each separate actions, so a spell that requires three components takes three actions (of the three allowed in the round).

The spells themselves are either buffed or nerfed compared to previous editions, depending on how you want to look at it. For instance magic missile is a 1st-level spell, that still does 1d4+1 base damage, but this goes up by one missile for each action taken to Cast the Spell, so a full-round cast can throw 3 magic missiles. Each 2 levels of heightening means you shoot one additional missile for each action used. On the other hand, wish is now an example of a 10th-level spell that can only be cast at the highest experience levels, and generically speaking it allows a Wizard to duplicate any other spell of 9th level or lower.

Pathfinder 2 also has ritual spells, which require some material/gold piece outlay and more than one caster, taking at least an hour. However, they also have long-lasting effects. Creating undead, controlling the weather and consecrating a holy site are examples of rituals.

Chapter 8 is The Age of Lost Omens. This is a mini-gazeteer reviewing the realms on one continental area on the planet Golarion. Prior to the events of the previous edition, the two most important parts of world history started with “Earthfall”, ten thousand years prior, in which a meteor swarm destroyed civilization, and the rise and fall of Aroden, a mortal-turned-god who had lived in the time before Earthfall. Aroden became known as the patron god of the Human race as well as the god of prophecy. However, Aroden was killed, and this event also killed the reliability of prophecy- thus, the time since is called The Age of Lost Omens.

This chapter deals with the regions of the “Inner Sea” surrounding Aroden’s former home on the island city of Absolom. The regions are broadly defined, where for instance “Old Cheliax” refers to the territories around the kingdom of Cheliax including the countries that declared independence from it. It’s mentioned that as time advances in the real world, so it also advances in the game history, such that the official calendar as of 2019 AD is 4719 AR (Absolom Reckoning). Chapter 8 discusses the events that have changed the world since the publication of original Pathfinder (some of which are described in the previous Adventure Path modules), such as the old empire of Taldor, after a period of long decline, entering a reformist era with the rise of its first female monarch. However the main world-shaking event for adventuring purposes was the recent return of Tar-Baphon, “the Whispering Tyrant”, an arch-lich who destroyed the frontier nation that was set up to guard against his return. Though he was prevented from immediately conquering the rest of the area, Takofanes – uh, Tar-Baphon – is now the “Big Bad” of the Pathfinder setting.

Chapter 9 is Playing the Game. This goes into greater detail on all the basic concepts that were briefly described in the Introduction. Again, there are three modes of play. “The most intricate of the modes is encounter mode.” In addition to the previous rules for dice tests, and degrees of success or failure, there are also certain combat modifiers. There is a multiple attack penalty, which normally is -5 for a second attack per turn and -10 for “the third time you attack, and on any subsequent attacks”. Given that characters only get three actions in a turn, this would seem to indicate that you can use a basic Strike action with multiple attacks if you’re willing to take the penalty. It’s mentioned that you can do this with spell attack rolls, but given that most spells require at least two actions to Cast a Spell, it’s doubtful you can use a multi-attack with more than one spell a round.

Most of the rules for “encounter mode” (combat) are in fact discussed before describing the various modes, because they’re rather brief compared with the rules for what you are able to do in combat and what happens if you get damaged. In addition to various damage types from weapons (slashing, bludgeoning, etc.) you have damage types based on magic or the environment (such as fire or electrical). In some cases a target of damage may modify it based on immunities, resistances or weaknesses: Immunity is flat-out immunity to a damage type, resistance is a category (fire resistance 4 means you reduce any fire damage by 4 points) and weakness is like the opposite of resistance (if you have weakness 5 to fire, any fire attack does +5 damage).

There are also conditions that describe other effects of damage or failing to resist a spell. How many conditions are there? Let’s see, on page 454, there are… … …43. Yes. This page is simply a summary of a more detailed glossary of conditions in the back that goes from pages 618 to 623, for example, Wounded: “You have been seriously injured. If you lose the dying condition and do not already have the wounded condition, you become wounded 1. If you already have the wounded condition when you lose the dying condition, your wounded condition value increases by 1.

If you gain the dying condition while wounded, increase your dying condition value by your wounded value.”

Of course some of these conditions are actually terms used to describe an NPC’s base opinion of your character (‘Unfriendly: An NPC with this condition doesn’t like you.’) but that kind of gets to a big problem I have with Pathfinder 2 compared to the previous version or other games: It is heavily dependent on gamespeak. And depending on gamespeak to the degree that it does, in my opinion, causes PF2 to lose its “immersive” quality in the way that Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition did, where your character felt less like a character and more like a game piece. Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition has its own large glossary of conditions at the back of the Player’s Handbook, but the text is about half as long, partially because D&D 5 is more prone to use simple and concise English. More on that comparison later.

After some length, Chapter 9 actually gets to the modes of play. Encounter mode (combat) starts with the roll for initiative, which in PF2 is normally a Perception check, although the Game Master may have players roll another skill (for instance a social encounter could use Deception or Diplomacy checks). Notably if a player’s roll ties with an NPC, the adversary goes first. In addition to Stride (move up to your Speed score) and Strike (attack) this section goes over various other actions, which include Crawl, Drop Prone and Stand (‘You stand up from prone’) which are all helpfully marked with trait markers like “Move.” After this there’s a relatively concise explanation of using movement points (Pathfinder characters are assumed to be moving on a square grid where each square is 5 feet, so a Small character with a Speed of 20 moves up to 4 squares per Stride). There are also brief but effective rules for combat in unusual environments, like underwater, which leads to rules for drowning or suffocating.

Exploration mode is self-explanatory; it “lacks the immediate danger of encounter mode, but it offers its own challenges.” Instead of measuring movement in tactical 5-foot squares, it is measured in feet or miles. The characters’ Speed (which is 20 feet for Small races, 25 for most races and 30 for Elves) is converted on a table to the number of miles one can travel per hour or day (a Speed of 25 is 2 1/2 miles per hour). Difficult terrain reduces the rate. There are certain activities that are only done in exploration mode (and of course are labeled with the Exploration trait) and there are also skills that can be used in this mode, such as using Survival to track creatures. Notably, encounter mode includes “preparing” after the nightly rest, preparing including memorized spell slots, and equipping armor and weapons, including “investing” any magic items.

Finally, there is downtime mode. This is just the game time between combat or travel scenes. Normally characters who rest each night recover Hit Point damage at a rate of 1 (or Constitution modifier) times level; long-term rest in downtime mode doubles that natural healing rate but assumes the character is resting the entire day. An experienced character can also “retrain” and swap out certain abilities like feats or skill increases. There is a brief list of skills that can be used in downtime mode, namely to earn income or survive off the land, or perform long-term medical care.

Chapter 10: Game Mastering is the point at which the corebook becomes the “Dungeon Master’s Guide” (which is why the Pathfinder game book is so thick, cause it’s both the ‘player’s handbook’ and GM manual). It includes a few gaming tips like “drawing a line” or allowing a player to tap an “X-Card” to limit or edit descriptions of disturbing or objectionable material. It also describes the concept of “social splash damage” if the game is being hosted in a public place; basically have respect for your hosts or the people nearby. There is also a sidebar for using disabled characters – even though basic rules don’t describe how battle injuries could create permanent disabilities. Some of this advice is politically correct, but still generally useful.

In more concrete terms, this chapter includes the tools for creating an “XP budget” for encounters. The figures used for XP are relatively small numbers because the XP system is not based on linear numbers (a creature is worth X number of experience points and higher level creatures are worth more XP) bur rather in scale with the party’s average character level. If for instance the party is a party of four 4th level characters, a “moderate” encounter would be a budget of 80 XP with a 4th level creature (or ‘Creature 4’ in the language of the game) being 40 of that 80 and “lackey” creatures being 20 each. Parties of greater or larger size have an adjustment to the XP budget; in the case of the 80 XP budget, each player more than four adds 20 to the budget and each player fewer than four subtracts 20. Note that because of the divisor the XP award to the individual characters doesn’t change- in this case each PC would get 20 XP for the encounter. All this goes back to the first chapter of the book: On page 31, “Leveling Up”, each experience level is exactly 1000 experience points. When characters reach or exceed 1000 XP, they level up and then subtract 1000 from their total and carry over any remaining. Thus this system greatly compresses the “unit economy” for totalling XP and makes the numbers a lot simpler for the GM.

In this regard, the chapter also goes over how to award XP if that whole pre-planned encounter was avoided by player choices. The GM may have to move the encounter to a different location if it is truly necessary for things to proceed, otherwise they may award the full XP for the encounter if the party avoided it because of ingenuity, diplomacy or other deliberate means. There is also guidance for social encounters that involve role-playing and skill, such as trying to persuade a mob or a judge of a person’s innocence. This usually relies on the Society skill for initiative and requires skill rolls to persuade the opposition.

It’s also mentioned that in exploration mode, the GM will be making judgment calls on almost everything that happens. Part of what’s involved is typical D&D type stuff like marching order and setting watch overnight, and since “rest” for game purposes means 8 hours, they have a little chart as to how long a watch period would be depending on how many people are in the party. The chapter also goes over downtime, and it is possible for player characters to use downtime mode for several long-term events.

Chapter 10 also has a GM guide for setting the Difficulty Class (DC) for certain rolls. For instance, some tasks require a minimum skill level (like Expert) to even succeed. This is not necessarily known to the player, so they can still attempt it (‘after all, she needs to have a chance to critically fail’). Chapter 10 mentions character rewards. Hero Points (described more thoroughly in Chapter 9) can be used to re-roll a d20 or save a 0 Hit Point character from dying. The book recommends handing out 1 Hero Point per each real hour of play after the first (for instance, 3 for a four-hour session). There are also guidelines for XP awards for miscellaneous accomplishments other than victory in combat. The chapter closes with the rules for environmental conditions, and hazards (including dungeon traps) since after all, characters can take damage from sources other than themselves.

Chapter 11, Crafting and Treasure says: “Characters acquire treasure from the glittering hoards of their foes, as rewards for defending the innocent, and as favors from the grand personalities they treat with.” The actual treasure tables are on page 508 in Chapter 10 (which is another problem I have with this book: It really isn’t well laid-out) but this chapter includes not only magic and alchemical items but the rules for using them. It’s mentioned that some items have to be “invested” in order to be fully active (similar to attunement in D&D 5th Edition) and most characters can only invest 10 magic items at a time, which the book says should not be an issue until characters are high level. A character can change out which items are invested on a given day during daily preparations.

The tables that follow list special items by level, and in addition to alchemical items include other “consumables” such as magical talismans. Thus the tables are separated by “Consumables” and “Permanent Items.” While most of the miscellaneous items are similar to those in Pathfinder 1 and Dungeons & Dragons, the rules for weapon and armor enchantment are different. The enchantments on these items are done through runes; runes for adding straight to a weapon’s hit bonus or damage are called fundamental runes, and more exotic runes (like to create a flaming weapon) are called property runes. Engraving runes uses the Craft skill. Furthermore with fundamental runes there is a distinction between potency runes (which increase the base bonus), resiliency runes (which add to a suit of armor’s bonus to saving throws) and striking runes, which actually add to the weapon’s damage dice. Potency runes only go up to +3 and also determine the number of property runes that can be added (resiliency and striking don’t count against the limit). Thus a +3 weapon could also have a “major striking rune” causing it to do four (instead of one) die of the weapon’s normal damage type. This is interesting for two reasons: One, the use of striking runes means that a Fighter’s weapons can “scale” with level similar to how a spellcaster’s combat magic does, and the use of runes as an element is an interesting setting element that distinguishes Pathfinder 2 from other D&D-based games where these enchantments are generic and unexplained.

However while most of these items only matter once characters are high-level enough to get them (assuming the GM is properly generous), some of them are tools actually created by characters on a regular basis. Specifically, the crafting of consumable items is the whole schtick of the Alchemist class, and Rangers also have the ability to create snares (which of course are their own category of item with the ‘snare’ trait). So while spellcasters have to flip from Chapter 3 to Chapter 7 to look up spells, Alchemists have to flip from Chapter 3 all the way to Chapter 11. Which is another issue with layout: if you got this book as a PDF off the back of a virtual turnip truck, you could just use Ctrl+F to flip to the right page, but I assume that Paizo, like most publishers, wants to make its sales off hardcopy books. And not only is this book expensive as I’d said before, it’s friggin’ BIG.

CONCLUSIONS

If all this makes it seem like I am ambivalent about Pathfinder Second Edition, well, I am. Every thing they do to radically simplify the system (combat action economy, encumbrance, the experience system) is outweighed by something that over-complicates things compared to previous Pathfinder (almost everything else).

At this point, since we’re dealing with a comparison of Pathfinder 2 to the first edition, and this in turn leads to a comparison of the Dungeons & Dragons 3rd Edition (which inspired Pathfinder) and the D&D that came after it, I need to bring up a concept from the latest edition of D&D: bounded accuracy. https://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Understanding_Bounded_Accuracy_(5e_Guideline)

See, in D&D 3rd Edition (and therefore, Pathfinder 1st Edition), most abilities progressed equal to level. Level cap in most products is 20. A 20th level Fighter in D&D3/PF1 has a Base Attack Bonus of +20 before counting any other modifiers at all, which means that any opponent has to have an equally ridiculous Armor Class difficulty to not get hit routinely. D&D 4th Edition curbed this somewhat with the concept of the “level modifier” – where all characters got a modifier of half their level, rounded down. Thus, a 10th level Fighter only has a +5 to hit. The newest version, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, refines the concept even further. The term “bounded accuracy” isn’t in the rule books, but it is in the various online discussions, including some from Wizards of the Coast designers. In player character terms, it comes down to most abilities being based on a proficiency bonus that starts at +2 at 1st level and peaks at +6. This mechanic applies to even class abilities; a Fighter and a Wizard of the same level have the same proficiency bonus, but a Fighter has that bonus with most weapons, and a Wizard only gets it with the limited number of weapons he is proficient with. However the Wizard (and other spellcasters) apply the bonus to attacks made with spells as well as the difficulty numbers to save against (resist) those spells.

There’s also a separate mechanic in D&D 5 that further compresses the number crunching. It’s called advantage vs. disadvantage. Simply, if you have advantage on a d20 roll (for instance, flanking an opponent) you get to roll the d20 twice and apply the better of two rolls. However if you have disadvantage (for example, a Dark Elf forced to fight in sunlight), you have to roll the d20 twice and take the worse of the two rolls. Most of the little situational modifiers that were used in previous editions of D&D (and some other non-d20 games) are replaced with this mechanic.

There are various reasons why the Wizards developers went with these methods (discussed in the link) but from the player perspective it is simply a matter of not having as many numbers and modifiers to deal with. This makes D&D 5th a relatively simple game to learn and teach to others.

Pathfinder 2, by contrast, goes in the opposite direction, taking the level-scale approach of prior Pathfinder and turning the amp up to 11. It’s specified that if you have Trained proficiency with weapons or non-combat skills, the proficiency modifier includes your level in addition to the bonuses you get for Trained, Expert, Master or Legendary level of skill. This would mean that a 20th level Fighter who has Legendary skill with weapons is now at +28 to hit. Before other modifiers.

Generally, I think Pathfinder 2 takes the same wrong turn that Wizards of the Coast took with D&D 4th Edition and that Hero Games took with HERO System 6th Edition – throwing in a whole bunch of new elements that veterans of the previous edition do not need and that will not make the game easier for new players. Even if the actual core of the game is quite simple, there’s so much “cruft” that it’s hard to see.

I could be wrong, because again, this game does a lot to clean up the basics of play, and there seems to be positive buzz so far. This just isn’t the direction I would go, and if I did want to do a root-to-stem rewrite of Pathfinder, it would probably look more like Starfinder than this game does.

GAME REVIEW: Pathfinder 2nd Edition (Part One)

A while ago I had reviewed the Starfinder role-playing game from Paizo Publishing, mentioning at the time that it was part of a design process that Paizo was using for a new edition of its signature game, Pathfinder, which was originally based on Dungeons & Dragons 3rd Edition. Well, Pathfinder Second Edition is now out. A friend of mine tipped me off to a sale at Barnes and Noble and I picked up the last available hardcopy that was 20% off sales price. That still made it over 50 dollars with tax, by the way. I’m not quite sure if it was worth it.

The hardcopy is a large book, 642 pages. Wayne A. Reynolds (‘WAR’) is still the signature artist for Pathfinder, but more of the pieces (including the cover) are painted rather than inked, and I don’t think the results work as well somehow. The text is is larger print than the original (PF1) and includes sidebars and explanations, but I don’t think the font is easier to read.

Overview

Chapter 1 (Introduction) is actually very important, because it reviews the basic premises of game play. There are three modes of play in Pathfinder Second Edition (PF2): long-term travel and negotiations with non-player characters are the exploration mode. Combat (or non-combat situations that can lead to combat) are in encounter mode. Even more long-term descriptions of game time, in which characters train, build things, and develop their craft, are in downtime mode. These concepts were already implicit in earlier D&D paradigm games, but PF2 makes them explicit game terms, which is in keeping with the rest of this book.

Encounters work similarly to PF1. The main difference is a clarification of the “action economy.” Characters get 3 actions in a 6-second round. It’s not quite as simple as that, of course; some things are “free actions” that don’t count against your allowance, while other actions are “activities” (such as casting a spell or doing another activity that could take two actions or more. Each character also gets one reaction that they can perform per round, but only in response to another activity, and only if it’s part of their abilities. For instance only Fighters get an Attack of Opportunity at 1st level, and other warrior-types don’t get it until at least 5th level. That simplifies combat right there.

One critical part of this whole setup is on page 17 with the Format of Rules Elements. This includes a sidebar with the various little symbols used in the rest of the book, with “reaction” being represented by an arrow circling on itself, and a single action being a black arrowhead. A “Three-Action Activity” is three black arrows atop each other and a Free Action is a clear arrowhead. This is simple enough once you grok the symbol format, but you NEED to grasp the symbol format to grasp this game.

The Introduction chapter likewise goes over the format of the various skills, feats, etc. These show what the ability is, what category it belongs to (Feat, etc.), what level you are eligible to get it (e.g. Feat 2) and other aspects of the ability. For instance, reactions and some free actions operate on a “Trigger,” like an Attack of Opportunity, which is allowed only when another character within your reach takes a move action or a “manipulate” action like casting a spell. The stat block format also includes various traits that the ability belongs to. Some skills, for instance, have certain traits like Downtime, such as where most Craft abilities can only be used in downtime. Again, this can be quickly learned, but if you obtain or get to read a copy of this book, you need to learn the text block format in Chapter 1, because this is what ALMOST THE ENTIRE REST OF THE BOOK looks like.

After the Introduction, Chapter 2 gets into the first steps of making a character, Ancestries & Backgrounds. There was of course some grousing from older gamers that they replaced the term “race” with “ancestry.” I’m not sure what difference it makes, except that in the premises of fantasy the term “race” is a bit more clear than it is in the real world where “race” really is a misnomer in that we’re all the same species. If there’s any oldthink game term that really ought to be adapted, it’s “class.” Character class has nothing to do with class in a psuedo-medieval world; a Fighter could be either a peasant or an aristocrat. In “meta” terms, your class is the role you play in the group, like your position in a football team. The concept would be more accurately defined as “profession”, “role” or “to be what one is not and to not be what one is,” but I’m not sure most gamers read Sartre.

So I’m cool with “ancestry.” I’m also okay with Half-Elves and Half-Orcs being simply variant “heritages” of the Human ancestry, given that they were mechanically presented as such in PF1 anyway. What I didn’t like was turning Goblins into a player character race. Uh, ancestry. Yes, I know that in their First Edition products, Paizo made Goblins their cute little mascot characters, but transitioning them from joke villains into potential heroes strains my sense of disbelief. I also don’t like when producers take loathsome creep characters and try to give them a “face turn” by suddenly making them as sympathetic as possible. Sorta like Andrew in Buffy Season 7.

In any case, Ancestry is the start of the character creation process, and that includes the mechanics. See, characters start with a string of 10 in the six “D&D” attributes. Each ancestry starts with two “ability boosts” for +2 in two specified attributes, and a free boost in a third attribute of choice. Each also has an “ability flaw” that reduces one stat to 8 (except Humans, who get two free boosts where they choose with no flaws). Goblins get a boost to Dexterity (which makes sense) a flaw to Wisdom (which makes sense) and a boost to Charisma (which makes no sense at all).

In this section you also get Backgrounds, which in combination with ancestry and class can create interesting character premises. Your background gives you another assigned ability boost and another free boost, plus at least one relevant skill and one feat. The Warrior Background, for instance, gives a boost to either Strength or Constitution, a free ability boost, Trained in Intimidation and Warfare Lore skills, with the Intimidating Glare skill feat (a feat that modfies a skill, in this case Intimidation).

However, the Ancestries & Backgrounds chapter also displays the real emphasis in creating a character in PF2: the selection of feats. If you look at the options of ancestral feats, you can only pick one at 1st level. Comparing to the first edition Pathfinder, some of these abilities are what used to be considered default racial features. A Dwarf, for instance, used to have both familiarity with Dwarven weapons and Stonecunning ability by default. In PF2, these are both feats, so you have to choose. You also get an additional ancestry feat at every 4 additional levels (5th, 9th, 13th and 17th), but there are also higher level ancestral feats for 5th, 9th, and 13th level, some of which have prerequisite ancestral feats.

Chapter 3 is for Classes. There are now 12 “core” classes in Pathfinder, which is much reduced from where PF1 was after all its various sourcebooks came out with supplemental classes. One of those supplemental classes, the Alchemist, is one of the PF2 core classes, perhaps because the “iconic” example Alchemist in the game is a Goblin. Which does make sense, given that both Goblins and Alchemists like to mix chemicals, play with fire, and blow shit up. The other big change in PF2 classes was with the Paladin, which is now generically referred to as the Champion, on the quite logical basis that deities of other than Lawful Good alignment would have their own champions. In PF2 core rules, Champions are limited to Good alignment, which is probably for the best. You can still play a standard Paladin (lawful and militaristic), but you can also be a Chaotic Liberator, who can help other characters break restraining effects, or a Neutral Good Redeemer, who actually takes an oath to try and redeem evildoers before killing them. (!) Also, they’ve decided that since Sorcerers can get their powers from non-arcane sources (like fey and demons) they can draw power from non-arcane sources, such that a Sorcerer could cast divine (‘cleric’) spells if they have the right bloodline.

The structure of how classes are written shows an even greater reliance on feats than ancestry abilities. And again, these sometimes replace what were class abilities. The Paladin’s Divine Health ability, for instance, is now a Feat 4. In addition, most characters get a class feat every even level, a skill feat every even level, and a general feat at 3rd level and every 4 levels thereafter.

Notably, this chapter includes Archetype options, which are similar to where older Pathfinder sourcebooks would offer options to characters in certain classes by trading off some of their class features. What’s significant about the PF2 approach is that Archetypes (or archetype feats) are now the only way your character can multi-class. For example, Alchemist Dedication is a Feat 2 that gives some of the basic Alchemist abilities. Taking it requires using a class feat. Once taken, the character is then eligible to use class feats to take other feats in the archetype tree, which allow the non-Alchemist to pick Alchemist feats or increase the potency of Alchemist abilities. To me, this is the part of the game that most resembles D&D 4th Edition; whereas D&D 3rd Edition was extremely liberal with multiclassing (such that every time you leveled you could add a different class and simply add each class level together, such that a 2nd-level character could be a 1st-level Fighter and 1st-level Wizard, for example), D&D 4 simply assumed that you always stayed in the same class and could only simulate branching out using a feat system very similar to this one. This kills a lot of the class flexibility that Pathfinder had allowed, and given that you have to cross-reference your secondary abilities via the main class, I’m not sure that the result is less complicated than multiclassing in PF1.

Also, the phase of picking a class also affects one’s ability scores in the character generation process; each class has a key ability score, which is usually fixed but sometimes variable. For instance, Intelligence is the key ability for Alchemist. A 1st-level Alchemist therefore gets an ability boost to Intelligence. Once ability adjustments are made for ancestry, background and class, a character gets four boosts in different abilities, meaning no more than +2 in any one stat. If you follow the process, you’ll see that it is possible for a character to have exactly one ability at 18 to start – 10 base, +2 from an ancestry, +2 from a background, +2 from a class and +2 from the last set of four free boosts. And given that (as with multiclassing) the new game prefers specialization to generalization, the results tend to favor characters with one excellent stat and a few fair ones, or maybe 2 scores of 16 and the rest more like 12. And after this point, the real number-crunching begins.

Class 4 is Skills. The base works like other d20 System games: Roll a d20, apply modifiers (such as an ability score) and try to beat a Difficulty Class (DC), with higher numbers representing greater difficulty, so you always want to roll high. The previous version of Pathfinder gave characters a certain number of skill ranks per level based on class (modified by Intelligence). These applied directly as a modifier to the skill roll, and you could only have 1 rank in a skill per character level (a 5th-level character could only have 5 ranks in Stealth, for instance). You also got a +3 “class skill” bonus if that skill was one of the ones approved for your class (Stealth being a Rogue skill, for instance). This is simpler than the D&D 3rd Edition skill points system but still requires keeping track of the points.

Pathfinder Second Edition changes this system in at least two significant ways. Characters get a certain number of skills per class. These are not point-based, these are proficiency ranks. You are Untrained in a roll unless otherwise skilled. An Untrained roll only allows the character to add their ability modifer and they can only perform minimal actions with that skill no matter how high they roll. Selecting a skill during character creation places it at the Trained level, which is a bonus of character level +2 (so a 1st-level character’s skills will be at +3). In some cases a skill may be raised to the next level, Expert (level +4). At 3rd level and every 2 levels thereafter, a character gains a skill increase. This can be used to take a previously unselected skill to Trained rank or raise the rank of a previously bought skill. At 7th level one can use a skill increase to take an Expert skill to Master rank (level +6) and at 15th level one can raise a Master skill to the Legendary level, which is level +8 bonus.

The other change is that this skill mechanic is how pretty much every d20 roll works in Second Edition. For instance, d20 games usually have 3 categories of saving throws, Fortitude, Reflex and Will. Instead of a class providing a certain bonus to these, each class describes the skill rank that the element is trained to. For instance the Ranger starts at 1st level as Expert in Fortitude and Reflex and Trained in Will. This is also the system used for skill proficiency with weapons and unarmed attacks, which stands to reason, but it also includes proficiency with armor, including unarmored defense. For instance, the Monk starts as Untrained in all armor but Expert in unarmored defense. Also, each class has certain abilities with a “class DC” that is the number the opponent rolls to resist the effect. Characters start as Trained in their class DC. Each class describes at which level the proficiency ranks for saves, attacks, class DC and defense increase; these do not require skill increase picks.

There is also a third element in this d20 system, which is varying degrees of effect. Almost all rolls (not just combat) can have a critical success (‘hit’) or critical failure (‘fumble’) and this is not necessarily a natural 20 or natural 1 but a margin. When a check meets a DC by 10 or more that is a critical success. When a check misses by 10 or more that is a critical failure. Needless to say, this can cause a certain variation in results if either the skill bonus or the DC are extremely high. (And at some point in the game, both will be the case.)

Otherwise, within these premises, the skill system is pretty straightforward. Certain skills have a common use (like using X Lore to Recall Knowledge within the field of the Lore skill’s title). Others, like Craft, are used during downtime to make items, including magical items. Skills can sometimes be used in combat; in fact the Athletics skill is now used as an opposed roll to cover all the unarmed “Combat Maneuvers” from the first edition. No more Combat Maneuver Bonus? Well, there’s one reason to endorse this game right there!

Chapter 5 is Feats. As in, the general feats that aren’t in the separate lists of class feats and can be bought by all characters. There is also a separate category of skill feats; as mentioned above, characters get skill feats every even level. “When you gain a skill feat, you must select a general feat with the skill trait; you can’t select a general feat that lacks the skill trait.” This quote, incidentally, is a taste of what the text usually reads like. There are exactly 17 feats which are general feats that do not apply to skills (like Toughness, which increases Hit Points and durability). All the other general feats are applied to skills, and some have a prerequisite that you have to be at a certain skill rank (e.g. Expert in Lore). As mentioned, each Background includes an assigned feat in addition to background skills, which means you really want to shop for your Background, because (as in other d20 games) some of these feats are better than others, and in this game some can provide special benefits when selected for the creation of a 1st-level character. For example, Bargain Hunter (a skill feat for Diplomacy that requires being Trained in Diplomacy) not only allows you to earn income in downtime by hunting for bargains at the bazaar, if you take this feat at 1st level, you start play with an additional 2 gold pieces.

This leads to the subject of Chapter 6, Equipment. All characters, even those who don’t wear armor, start with 15 gold pieces (GP). Lest that seem piddly, Pathfinder Second Edition is a silver piece economy – 1 GP is actually worth 10 SP. Lest that seem generous, chain mail is 6 GP and a longsword is 1 GP. PF2 directly lifts the Starfinder system for Bulk to determine encumbrance – a character can freely carry up to 5 Bulk plus Strength modifier. This is on a scale where a small item (like a piece of chalk) is “negligible”, a dagger or similar weight is “Light” bulk (each set of ten light items equals 1 Bulk) and larger items like swords and suits of armor are whole numbers.

The benefits of armor are less than they were in PF1. For instance, chain mail only provides +4 to Armor Class. However the new player has to factor in the aforementioned armor proficiency bonuses. Most characters are considered Trained in at least one type of armor (or ‘unarmored defense’) so that a 1st-level character who is unarmored or just wearing clothing, with no Dexterity or other modifiers, is at AC 13 for Trained proficiency. (If it’s a Monk with Expert proficiency, the AC is 15.) Thus a character who is Trained in chain mail (Medium Armor proficiency) increases the base AC to 17, and it will go up further if the proficiency level is increased. It also goes up automatically with level. Certain armors create a specialization bonus, which a character can only take advantage of with a certain feat or class feature. Chain mail for instance can absorb some of the effects of a critical hit.

Likewise weapons have a whole bunch of specialty features in addition to just doing damage. For example “Deadly” adds an additional damage die on a critical hit. This is distinguished from “Fatal” which means that on a critical hit the weapon’s base damage die increases to the listed die code. (A Pick that does 1d6 has the trait Fatal d10, which means a critical hit does d10 instead of d6. A Rapier that does 1d6 has the Deadly d8 trait, so it does a d8 on a critical hit in addition to standard crit damage.) All this is in addition to critical specialization effects, which again vary by weapon type and require certain qualifications to use.

Very conveniently, page 289 features “class kits” showing what a character of each class would best spend their 15 GP on, although even heavy armor characters like Champions and Fighters end up with a lot of extra GP because they’re only using hide armor. Basic gear lists include consumables like alchemist bombs, potions, and short-term talismans.

NEXT: Overview of Chapters 7 through 11! No! This isn’t done!

REVIEW: Jojo Rabbit

I have to confess: I’ve always thought Nazis were cool.

There is a certain theme in culture where people identify with Evil. In some cases it’s because of image (or as one supervillain called it, PRESENTATION!). We think of great villainy as being cool, badass and invincible, like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wxL8bVJhXCM

When in point of fact, villainy is usually a lot more like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hn1VxaMEjRU

If you actually read about history, especially Shirer’s Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, you’ll see that most of the Nazis were pathetic mediocrities, and even the ones who had brains, like Albert Speer, essentially gave up their free will to become robots operating on faulty programming. Why? Fear. Fear of the people they hated, certainly, but also fear of themselves: fear of making a mistake, fear of taking responsibility for bad or unpopular decisions. Far better to join a personality cult where the Leader says he can do everything.

And if you wonder how, in Nazi Germany, one-third of the country could exterminate another third while the last third looked on, it’s because that last third was in fear of what the bad guys would do. You can see the psychology even now. Friday November 15, former Ambassador to Ukraine, Marie Yovanovich, was giving her public testimony to Adam Schiff’s Congressional committee, as to how and why she was fired by the Viceroy for Russian North America. During the session, that person currently running the occupation government tweeted, “Everywhere Marie Yovanovitch went turned bad. She started off in Somalia, how did that go? Then fast forward to Ukraine, where the new Ukrainian President spoke unfavorably about her in my second phone call with him.” Apparently he didn’t know (or care) that Schiff’s people were reading Twitter in real time and gave Schiff the tweet to read to Yovanovitch. Even Ken Starr, who knows a thing or two about impeachment, told Fox News, “The president was obviously not advised by counsel in deciding to do this tweet. (It was) extraordinarily poor judgment.” But after Schiff read the tweet to Yovanovitch, he asked what she thought, and she replied, “It’s very intimidating… I can’t speak to what the president is trying to do, but I think the effect is to be intimidating.”

Well, enough of that. Half of the reason this is going on is because a third of the country is intimidated by people that we can all perceive to be incompetent clowns, and the other half is because another third of the country identify with said clowns and think they’re badass. What we need is to let the air out of their tires. We need to go back to the approach of Mel Brooks and Hogan’s Heroes.

We need to Make Nazis Funny Again.

Jojo Rabbit is a film by New Zealand filmmaker Taika Waititi (most famous in this country for Thor: Ragnarok). It is about Johannes “Jojo” Betzler (Roman Griffin Davis), a 10-year old going to youth camp with the Deutsches Jungvolk, or junior arm of the Hitler Youth. This was a literal Nazi Boy Scouts where kids were expected to learn manly fascist pursuits like hunting and military exercises, as opposed to suspicious activities like reading and thinking. Jojo is a short unpopular boy whose sister has died of illness and whose father is presumed missing in action on the front, and so for companionship he has turned to an imaginary friend – Adolf Hitler (Waititi himself).

At first, Waititi’s character seems like a wonderful playmate for a 10-year old boy (apart from the whole Hitler thing). But after his peers brand him as “Jojo Rabbit” because he refused to kill a bunny rabbit with his bare hands, Jojo’s imaginary friend inspires him to a reckless act that renders him unfit for military training. Thus, he has to go back to live with his free-spirited mom (Scarlett Johannson) and soon discovers that Mom has sheltered a Jewish teenager (Thomasin McKenzie) in the walls of the upstairs room. And as with other stories about Jewish girls being forced to hide from the Gestapo, wackiness ensues.

In addition to Waititi using Hitler as the chorus of Jojo’s subconscious, the film has a whole slew of absurdities, like Aryan clones, the inevitable “German shepherds” joke, British rock songs and American actors using contemporary slang and fake German accents as they talk about “blowing schtuff up.” In short, Jojo Rabbit takes Nazism with all the seriousness it deserves, which is to say, none.

I mean, yes, there is a very sad turn of events in the last act, but you can’t set a movie in the last two years of Nazi Germany and expect it to be a complete barrel of laughs.

And at the end, what is the moral of the story? Some might say: “Love conquers all.” Others might say: “Don’t assume that your imaginary friend always has the best advice, especially when he’s Hitler.” My take is: “Don’t turn your government over to racist Know-Nothings who are only going to get people killed.” You would think we wouldn’t need to hit people over the head with that message, and yet, here we are.

Well, that’s the review. So until next time:
“Heil Hitler, guys.”

REVIEW: Watchmen (HBO)

Watchmen, written by Alan Moore, is quite likely the greatest story ever written for comicbook format. It started when DC Comics obtained the rights to use old characters from the Charlton Comics company (including Steve Ditko’s The Question) and then hired Moore to write for those characters. When Moore proposed a murder mystery where at least one of DC’s new characters got killed, his editor proposed that he make slightly altered versions of those characters in a new setting- which had no continuity with the universe of Superman and Batman. The result was both very adult and very philosophical, in which Steve Ditko’s Objectivism was transmuted into Jean-Paul Sartre’s existentialism: in an apparently random universe, the only thing that gives life meaning is the responsibility of making a moral choice. Even if that means putting on a mask to fight crime.

The thing is, Moore and artist Dave Gibbons also wrote Watchmen on the condition that the rights would revert back to them once the comic series was no longer in publication – which given its success, means never. So Moore was so pissed he now refuses to let his name be associated with any of the work he did for DC- even though the Watchmen characters he made were themselves based on someone else’s material. In any event DC continues to exploit its intellectual property for all it’s worth, such as Zach Snyder’s semi-successful adaptation of the Watchmen story, a recent comic book crossover where Moore’s universe was in fact merged with the DC Universe, and now this TV series by Damon Lindelof (Lost, The Leftovers).

Given that the comic was a complex limited series with 12 issues, with sex, profanity and a FUCKTON of violence, a lot of us thought that a Watchmen adaptation should have been a limited series on HBO in the first place. But since the story was already done by Snyder, DC actually decided not to reboot something they’d done only a few years before (like Batman) and instead went in a totally new direction.

Whereas the original story was set in the 1980s, the Watchmen series goes into 2019, meaning that Lindelof’s story is set in the same universe, over 30 years after the events of the comic. What makes this piece interesting and valid is that it takes the background universe and uses it to present a setting that actually has some relevance to the current situation. For instance: Latter-day critics of Moore’s Watchmen point out that despite the series being set in 1980s New York, there were no black characters among the principals. (In that respect, it was sort of like Friends, if Friends was a R-rated drama about murderous vigilantes.) This series is set in Tulsa, Oklahoma, with a multiracial police force and a cast of characters centered around Regina King, who plays a police operative called “Sister Night.” Now, why cops have to have secret identities and costumes is a background element that isn’t immediately explained in the pilot, nor is the connection between King’s character and the bloody massacre of Tulsa’s black community by racists in 1921. Presumably this is the sort of thing that gets drawn out and explained over the course of the series, in the same way that the comicbook drew the reader in by gradually explaining details, like how Nixon became president-for-life partially because another superhero won the war in Vietnam.

So given that the story starts in progress (as it did during the comic) it really isn’t necessary to have read Moore’s Watchmen to see this series, although the tie-ins are important for anyone who has. In the comic, the vigilante Rorschach left his journal with a right-wing publisher, hoping to expose the main plot of the story after he was killed. Well, in the ensuing period, his journal apparently became the inspiration for a masked racist goon squad called The Seventh Kavalry who seem to be the main bad guys of this series. (Historically, the 7th Cavalry was the unit under General Custer that got trashed at Little Big Horn.) And this was one of the things I didn’t like about the TV pilot. Rorschach in the comic might have been a right-winger with a LOT of issues (namely misogyny) but he never seemed actively racist. Now again, that might be because the main characters weren’t interacting with black people much at all. But given how many heroes in this setting (especially from the World War II generation) had racist opinions, Rorschach didn’t seem like that type. Given his other positions though, he didn’t seem like he was directly opposed to racism, which may be the point. This wouldn’t be the first time that racist goons took the writings of some dead person and interpreted them to support their position whether it fit or not.

In this respect, the other thing that distinguishes Lindelof’s project from the comic is that this world seems to be the mirror image of liberal fears of conservative dominance and the ultimate expression of the conservative paranoia that drives them to seek dominance. Since Nixon died, Robert Redford has been president for over 30 years, racial reparation is called “Redfordations” and gun control is so strict that cops have to go through bureaucratic procedure just to access their pistols in the field.

The one bit of this production that rings false is the median scenes featuring Jeremy Irons as “Lord of a Country Estate.” Because if he is supposed to be Adrian Veidt, the script does him even more of a disservice than it does Rorschach. It’s always fun to watch Jeremy Irons chew the scenery, but his character actually is a Republic Serial villain. In the comic, Veidt would freely kill people as a means to an end, but not as gleefully as Irons does. Plus, Veidt was supposed to be an American of German background. Producers have so far cast him as a decadent Eurotrash played by Matthew Goode and now Irons. Whereas the original dialogue and artwork conveyed more a plain-spoken American type. If anything, the elderly Veidt should have been played by Robert Redford himself, or maybe Brad Pitt.

But if nothing else, you can say that Damon Lindelof’s Watchmen is timely (so to speak). So far, I’d say this is like a couple of other bastard progeny of Alan Moore’s DC Comics work: The Sean Connery version of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (LXG) and the Constantine movie starring Keanu Reeves. If you went into them assuming they had anything to do with the source material other than the starting premise, it would only make your head hurt. But if you looked at them as their own things, they were surprisingly entertaining. I think of Watchmen the same way, and who knows, it might actually have something to say at the end of it.