Monthly Archives: October 2013

BOO!

It’s All Hallows Eve, the day everybody gets dressed up to scare their neighbors, friends, family, etc.  A couple of songs that fit in with today’s theme include:

“Sittin’ Up with the Dead” by Ray Stevens (http://www.raystevens.com/raytv.html?ma_id=2&mc_id=20&p=3)

and “One-Eyed, One-Horned FLyin’ Purple People Eater” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rx47qrH1GRs).

And no Hallowe’en would be complete without a viewing of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! (http://vimeo.com/52484438)

So, in parting I will say….

Picture 016

And beware of low flying pumpkins!!!

The Mithril Guardian

Air, Fire, and Water

Air, Fire, and Water

Air, Water, and Fire…an exquisite dance of the elements is at hand.  While these three are a deadly mix on earth – here, they put the greatest human painters to shame.

What do I see in this picture?  I see a horizon of possibilities.  A horizon where the bold stand, looking toward their next adventure.   A horizon where love is triumphant, where it dresses the sky with its glow and briefly makes a weary world as beautiful as it is itself.  A war between dark and light rages here: a battle for the hearts and souls of every man who lives.  The light is winning….  It cannot lose.

Perhaps I am a babbling romantic.  But if I am, then I shall go on so.  It is preferable to being sane.

Ballads of the Frontier West, Part 2

Marty Robbins Ballads

Hi, Giselle!

Are you ready for some more music, partner?  Then let’s get to it!

I don’t know if you and your family like to watch old westerns.  Most original Westerns have the bad guy and the sheriff/good cowhand/reformed gunfighter face off against each other at noon on Main Street.  They walk forward a few paces and then whip out their guns.  Usually the good guy is faster and he wins the duel.

This standard plot is no exception in the ballad ‘Big Iron,’ performed once again by Marty Robbins (you can find it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iGmUsJvRv7U).  The hero of this tale is an Arizona Ranger.  He is after a no-good 24 year old man called Texas Red.  Red has notched his pistol once for every man he has killed, twenty in all.  He hears about the Ranger who has come to town for him and decides that he will make an excellent number twenty-one.

The two walk into the street at a quarter past eleven (not exactly noon, but close enough).  The whole town is indoors, waiting with bated breath.

Then, before Texas Red has ‘cleared leather,’ (gotten his pistol clear of his holster) there is the report of a gun.  The Ranger has turned out to be the faster draw.

The song is called ‘Big Iron’ to describe the Ranger’s armament, likely a Colt pistol.  These were known back in the day as rather large handguns, and so when people saw a man ride into town with one, they said, “He had a big iron (pistol) on his hip.”

The song is great fun.  You can tap out the tune or sing along with it no problem, and it is a great addition to Western folklore.  ‘Big Iron’ is a story in the best Old West tradition.  Just like the films High Noon and Rio Bravo, it is a story that stays with you wherever you go.  There are worse stories to have following one around, I must say.

Another cheerful song is ‘A Hundred and Sixty Acres’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BbyBUtvd8oo).  Like ‘Big Iron,’ this song is also performed by Marty Robbins.  It was written when the Homestead Act was passed.  Under the Homestead Act, a man could get a hundred and sixty acres out west if he worked the land for a certain amount of time.  For the most part, the song is repetitive; it speaks about the singer being his own man, totally reliant on himself for his wages and success.  Whoever composed the song must have been extremely happy with his wide open 160 acres!

Another ballad Robbins did is called ‘Strawberry Roan,’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z81gbEhez7w).  It tells the story of a bronco buster who is hired to tame an untamable horse.  The Rider is sure he can bust any bronc.  Ol’ Strawberry is sure he can bust any rider.

I’ll let you find out which one wins.

Next is one of my favorite Western themes of all time.  This one was originally performed by Frankie Laine, and it topped the charts back in the 1960’s, the first TV theme song to do so – if my information is correct.  It was certainly the most popular TV theme to make it to the charts, anyway.

The theme song I’m talking about is the one that introduces the show Rawhide (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSHr4ubuD64).  The show ran for seven years, and listening to the theme song, it is no surprise why.  This song is harder to sing along with in some ways than any of Robbins’ ballads, but that is because the tempo is faster.  It is a song meant to match the gallop of a horse, I think; a song meant for the hard, dusty work of a trail ride.  Rawhide chronicled the adventures of a band of cowhands who were eternally herding cattle to the railroad.  It was the show that got Clint Eastwood his big break.

Then there is Kenny Rogers’ ‘Graybeard,’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdJ1irW5iWA).  It’s about a young gunfighter called ‘The Devil Kid.’  He meets an old timer in a ghost town by the name of Graybeard.  This old coot is still lightning quick with his iron, and he overcomes the Devil Kid.  And you will not believe how he does it!

Last, but not least, is a theme song from yet another Western TV show.  You see, Giselle, Westerns were to the ‘sixties what crime shows have become to the current era.  You could not trip over a rock without running into one of them, no matter where you went.  And they rewarded the actors who performed in them very well.

This theme song is from the show Have Gun, Will Travel.  The song itself is called ‘The Ballad of Paladin’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgvxu8QY01s).  It’s named after the hero of the series, Paladin, a gunman for hire.  I have not had the chance to see many episodes of the series, but from what I have seen, he is an interesting character.  The song describes him as a “knight without armor in a savage land.”

That is a moniker most cowboys wear in stories, and doubtless wore in times past.

The thing about these songs is that they are ballads in the truest sense of the word – with the possible exception of ‘A Hundred and Sixty Acres.’ I can’t help but think it was written more for a special occasion, like the song ‘Happy Birthday to You.’  That doesn’t make it inappropriate though; it is still part of the ‘Old’ West culture.

To me, there is nothing old about that culture.  It will always be there.  One would just have to get out there and find it.

That wouldn’t be too hard, especially if one found a willing guide and kept their eyes open.

I have to go.  The sun is setting.

Later,

Mithril

Much Obliged

Louis L'Amour

Louis L’Amour (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The ways of dishonest men were never as clever as they assumed, and the solving of a crime was usually just a painstaking job of establishing motives and putting together odds and ends of information.  Criminals suffered from two very serious faults.  They believed everybody else was stupid, and the criminal himself was always optimistic as to his chances of success.

The idea that men stole because they were poor or hungry was nonsense.  Men and women stole because they wanted more, and wanted it without working for it.  They stole to have money to flash around, to spend on liquor, women, or clothes.  They stole because they wanted more faster. – Louis L’Amour, the Chick Bowdrie series, A Job For a Ranger

“Nothin’ romantic about bein’ an outlaw, son.  Just trouble an’ more trouble.  You can’t trust anybody, even the outlaws you ride with.  You’re always afraid somebody will recognize you, and you don’t have any real friends, for fear they might turn you in or rob you themselves.

“The trouble with bein’ an outlaw or any kind of criminal is the company you have to keep.” – Louis L’Amour, Chick Bowdrie, Bowdrie Passes Through

Book Review: Dinotopia: A Land Apart From Time

Dinotopia_LAFT_cover

Hi, Meggie,

How is the writing going?  That’s great!

How am I doing?  Well, I’m busier than I would like to be.  But aren’t we all?

I know.  Usually, I write to Murdock about a book I have read.  And if he was not so busy with the rest of the A-Team at the moment, I suppose I would be writing to him.  But he’s out with Hannibal, “on the jazz,” and I don’t know when he’ll be back.  You don’t mind if I write to you since I can’t reach him, do you?

Great!  Let’s get started.

There is a book I know of which you may want to hunt up.  It is called Dinotopia: The Land Apart From Time.  I read it some time ago and have never forgotten it.  The story is not too bad; it is a bit of a cross between The Swiss Family Robinson and The Lost World.

See, in Dinotopia, dinosaurs never became extinct.  After some years of living quietly on the island, they had visitors: humans washed up on the shore after their ships were wrecked.  These vessels either crashed and wrecked on the reef surrounding the island, or were damaged in the storms that encircle Dinotopia 24/7.

Some humans found ways off of Dinotopia.  But most stayed, making a new civilization with the dinosaurs.  This new civilization (like its language) is an amalgamation of all the other known societies on the planet.  The dinosaurs add their own elements to the culture, including their language, known in the story as Saurian.

Yes, you guessed it.  This is a language of chirps, hoots, and any other sounds that dinosaurs can make.  The sounds humans cannot replicate themselves are imitated by other means.

All in all, though, the story is not quite what fascinated me.  Why?  Well, we will have to go back a bit in order for me to explain.

The author of Dinotopia is James Gurney, an artist for National GeographicDinotopia is largely composed of his fantastic paintings and sketches of life in the fictional land of Dinotopia.  He draws the dinosaurs, the landscapes, the people, and the buildings.

This is what stayed with me after reading Dinotopia.  The drawings are not just beautiful; they get the mind whirling with possibilities.  What would it be like to live amidst waterfalls (such as in the Dinotopian metropolis Waterfall City)?  How about making a bridge designed after a dinosaur’s (or other vertebrate’s) backbone?  What about making gliders designed to resemble real flying creatures?

This is what stayed with me.  The artwork often stays with me after reading any kind of fiction, but specifically Dinotopia.  And this makes me ask this question: When was the last time anything was built beautifully?  I do not mean beautifully safe, or beautifully perfect.  I mean beautiful.

Take the example of, say, the Chrysler building.  It is a unique skyscraper with engravings and gargoyles on its outside.  And it has a spire reaching for the sky, almost like a needle at the top of a block tower.  Then there is the Space Needle in Seattle, the Lincoln Memorial, and countless other landmarks around the world.

I have seen a lot of different skyscrapers.  Some are unique in their own way; a few are even beautiful.  But after a while, I feel that if you have seen one skyscraper, you have seen them all.  Over the years skyscrapers have become nothing but pillars of steel and glass.  There is very little to distinguish one skyscraper form the other; very little that makes them anything more than giant metal, glass-encased obelisks.  Cities across the globe are, after a point, full of nothing but glass Lego towers.

Apartment buildings and condominiums have the same problem.  Walking around in such neighborhoods one gets the feeling they are stuck in a world of cardboard boxes.  The buildings on the left side of the street are often (not always, but often) the mirror image of the buildings on the right side of the street.

This lack of individuality, flair, cheerfulness, etc., has not only largely invaded the world of architecture, it has crept into other ways of life, too.  Cars and trucks, for instance, are no longer built for size or beauty.

Now, instead of being spacious and appealing eye-candy, cars and trucks across the country are nearly clones of each other.  One can hardly tell the difference between a Chevy Suburban and a GMC Yukon.  I cannot tell the difference between a Toyota Corolla and most Ford sedans.  Only minute details proclaim the distinction between vehicles, excepting the names on the vehicles’ sides and the emblems blazoned on their grills.

All in all, I cannot help wondering whether or not the people who build the skyscrapers, the architects for those skyscrapers, or the designers for vehicles, have ever read anything other than their handbook materials since they went into business.  They are all buried in a dull anthill pattern of life that simply builds because that is how they win their bread.  There are no longer many personal touches added to the hoards of buildings being constructed presently, nor are designers stamping the vehicles they churn out every day as notable standouts from the crowd.

It is a pattern of these artists own weaving; as such, only they can find a way to change it.

I know that, Meggie.  I am not unsympathetic.  I know that contractors, architects, and designers have to follow safety guidelines.  I certainly would not want someone to build an ‘abstract’ skyscraper, with one floor jutting out to the left and the next one up jutting out to the right.  I definitely do not want to see an apartment complex built to look like a mountain of sludge.  I am not even sure that either suggestion would be geometrically possible.

But there are creative touches that can be applied to these buildings and machines which are within the realm of geometric possibility, and which are within safety guidelines.  There is proof of it all over the world.

As I said, it is a pattern that these artists have chosen to weave for their lives.  If they choose to march in identical uniforms, none but they can change their costumes.  Therefore, I am glad that, in the realm of fiction at least, there are those who choose to weave brighter and better patterns for public consumption.

I have to go.  Maybe we could chat another time?

Wonderful!  See you then!

Later,

Mithril

A Great Poet – with Quite the Feature!

English: Lloyd Corrigan (left) & José Ferrer i...

English: Lloyd Corrigan (left) & José Ferrer in Cyrano de Bergerac – cropped screenshot (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Cyrano de Bergerac:

Ah, no young sir!

You are too simple. Why, you might have said –

Oh, a great many things! For example, thus: –

AGGRESSIVE: I, sir, if that nose were mine,

I’d have it amputated – on the spot!

FRIENDLY: How do you drink with such a nose?

You ought to have a cup made specially.

DESCRIPTIVE: ‘Tis a rock – a crag – a cape –

A cape? say rather, a peninsula!

INQUISITIVE: What is that receptacle –

A razor case or a portfolio?

KINDLY: Ah, do you love the little birds

So much that when they come and sing to you,

You give them this to perch on? INSOLENT:

Sir, when you smoke, the neighbors must suppose

Your chimney is on fire. CAUTIOUS: Take care –

A weight like that might make you topheavy.

THOUGHTFUL: Somebody fetch my parasol –

Those delicate colors fade so in the sun!

PEDANTIC: Does not Aristophanes

Mention a mythological monster called

Hippocampelephantocamelos?

Surely we have here the original!

FAMILIAR: Well, old torchlight! Hang your hat

Over that chandelier – it hurts my eyes.

ELOQUENT: When it blows, the typhoon howls,

And the clouds darken. DRAMATIC: When it bleeds –

The Red Sea! ENTERPRISING: What a sign

For some perfumer! LYRIC: Hark – the horn –

Of Roland calls to summon Charlemagne! –

SIMPLE: When do they unveil the monument?

RESPECTFUL: Sir, I recognize in you

A man of parts, a man of prominence –

RUSTIC: Hey? What? Call that a nose? Na na –

I be no fool like what you think I be –

That there’s a blue cucumber! MILITARY:

Point against cavalry! PRACTICAL: Why not

A lottery with this for the grand prize?

Or – parodying Faustus in the play –

“Was this the nose that launched a thousand ships

And burned the topless towers of Ilium?”

These my dear sir, are things you might have said

Had you some tinge of letters, or of wit

To color your discourse. But wit, – not so,

You never had an atom – and of letters,

You need but three to write you down –an Ass.

Moreover, – if you had the invention, here

Before these folks to make a jest of me –

Be sure you would not then articulate

The twentieth part of half a syllable

Of the beginning! For I say these things

Lightly enough myself, about myself,

But I allow none else to utter them.

 

(One of my favorite speeches from the play! Shakespeare is great, but I haven’t heard anyone yet to beat Cyrano!)

Heaven and Earth

Where My Heart Will Take Me

“Ooh, baby do you know what that’s worth?  Ooh, heaven is a place on earth!”

Oh, for wings to fly into that other realm!!!!  Oh, to see that never ending sunrise, that land where everything is possible!!  But still gravity has its surly hold on all things.  Still I must wait!

But someday – someday I shall fly!!!!

Caught

The Wasp

Hello, Marvel Writers!

      (Oh, boy.  Here it comes!) 

Yup, I’m back. 

     (Hide the story drafts!  Call SHIELD!)

Sorry, that’s not going to work.  Pay attention, everyone!  Today’s subject is the rampant paranoia among fans.

    (What?  What does that mean?)

It means that we, the fans, are paranoid about our favorite heroes.  You know what I am talking about – those days when the X-Men or the Avengers charge into a battle and, when they finally pull back, gasping for air, one of them does a headcount and finds someone is missing.

And then it turns out that the missing member of the team is on some infirmary table in the villain’s lair.  Cue the villain of the day’s egotistical bragging and the torture of the captured hero.

Of course, the hero/heroine cannot die, or you will lose their audience.  So the team comes to rescue them, they escape, or they are killed and ‘resurrected.’  Yippee, everybody’s safe….!   Right?

Hmmm….  No, not so much.

These days I, for one, cannot relax after watching an Avenger/X-Man (or any other Marvel hero) get caught by, and then escape from, the bad guys.  Several times a hero has been returned to their friends, or society at large, after being imprisoned by a villain only for something bad to happen when they get back. 

Sometimes it is a few years before the hero snaps; runs amok; gets cloned; or starts acting on pre-programmed villain instructions.  Eventually, one of these events will occur.  Generally it is the snapping story line, where the hero retaliates against the villain, the team, or society because of the treatment they received on the table.  The second most popular storyline is cloning.

Excuse me, but what exactly is the point of this?  It has gotten to be so common a plot point that I am amazed any of the heroes can catch forty winks.  If I was one of them, I would not be able to sleep at all for fear that one of the bad guys would grab me the minute I shut my eyes.

Honestly, fellow writers, this is too much.  How are we or our heroes supposed to function with this fear weighing on our minds every time a new adventure occurs?  It spoils the enjoyment we derive from watching our heroes work if we are always thinking, “Yeah, but Dr. Doom is going to grab [insert the hero of your choice here], experiment on him/her, and then this character will go berserk at some point in a future story.”

Was this the original point behind the heroes getting caught?  No.  The original ideas behind a hero getting caught are, I believe, as follows:

a)  To add suspense to a particular story arc/start a story arc;

b)  To prove the hero’s strength under pressure and pain;

c)  To show how cunning and strong a seemingly flippant or shallow hero actually is;

d)  To flesh out a new villain/hero by showing their motives/hidden virtues;

e)  To prove how deluded a certain villain was and start a plot line where the heroes would eventually bring him down;

f)  To bring a team into a tighter-knit group by having the teammates work to support the physically/emotionally injured hero;

g)  To have a hero conquer his/her inner demons through their own strength of character after being a guinea pig or after being tortured.

These days, imprisoning and experimenting on our heroes is more reminiscent of people playing entomologists chasing down rare butterflies.  Instead of following any one of the above possibilities thoroughly, as someone with any imagination would, you poke at our heroes with needles.  I am more than a little tired of it.  You should be, too.

Why?  Because the more often you use these plots where the hero gets cloned or goes crazy, or somehow snaps at his/her team or at society itself, the more easily the lead up to such a story twist will be recognized.  People will flick through the comic book and then put it back on the shelf, saying, “Seen it.”  The more often you use this plot, the more bored the readers will become, and then sooner or later you will be out of business.  

At which point our heroes will be stuck in literary limbo.

I don’t know about you, but I do not want to see that happen.

So how about pulling the pins out of our heroes and letting them get back to work, as full-fledged heroes who are secure in their self-knowledge, principles, and strength of will? 

I am not saying that you should not test the above qualities in our heroes.  By all means, do it.  Just remember that there is a fine line between testing a character and breaking them.

The fact is that right now, you are breaking our heroes.  A broken engine cannot always be repaired, fellow writers. 

Neither can broken characters. 

Sincerely,

Mithril (A True Believer Caught in between Pandiculaton and Story Paranoia)

Into Darkness

Kirk and Spock

Heigh-ho, DiNozzo!

Yes, I am finally going back to Star Trek Into Darkness!

I found it a very enjoyable movie.  It strikes me as more ‘Trekian’ than the previous J. J. Abrams’ Star Trek film.  I think this is because of the details added to this movie, which I listed way back in my post ‘The Little Things.’  Then there are all the little character touches added to the “Enterprise Seven” – but we’ll get to those another time.

Have you ever seen that picture – you know, the one of a snake eating its own tail?  Yeah, that one.

Do you know what it symbolizes?  I believe it shows the folly of evil.  Evil is like a snake eating its own tail; it is self-defeating.  How long can the snake survive when it is consuming itself?  Not very long, I would think.

During Into Darkness, Kirk and Spock are thrust into the depths of loss and extreme pain.  Kirk sees the man he has come to respect as a father, Admiral Christopher Pike, murdered.  We all know that Kirk is no stranger to death, but this is the first time (that the audience sees) when he has watched someone close to him die.  And it tears him up.

Spock also gets thrown down this well.  He mind melds with Pike as the old captain dies, experiencing again the emotions he felt as he watched his home world Vulcan annihilated (seen in the previous movie) – emotions he is desperately trying to avoid ever feeling again.

As he later learns when Kirk ‘dies,’ he may as well quit breathing.  Emotions do not have an off switch; they only rule a person who does not make them subservient to reason.

In the case of Star Trek’s ‘dynamic duo,’ both Kirk and Spock come to the brink of the abyss of evil.  At this threshold, they have a choice: fall or fly.  What I mean by this is that they have a choice between good and evil.  Will they give in (fall) to their “anger,” and their “fear,” (thank you, Master Yoda) and hatred?  Or will they let these emotions go and rise (fly) above them?

The two come very close to falling.  Kirk first single-mindedly hunts down Khan to get vengeance for Pike’s murder, only to learn that he has endangered his whole crew when Admiral Marcus arrives to “tie up loose ends.”  Kirk’s desire for revenge then appears to transform into a death wish, which is finally overcome when he chooses to sacrifice himself to save the Enterprise – and San Francisco. 

Speaking of which, they pick on Marvel for wrecking New York City every few months.  J. J. Abrams has now attempted to destroy San Francisco twice, and I haven’t heard anyone complain.

It is after Kirk’s ‘death’ that Spock reaches his precipice.  Since Vulcan’s destruction, Spock has decided that he wants to feel nothing before he dies.  Vulcans, as every Star Trek writer enjoys reminding the audience, feel far more deeply, passionately, and keenly than humans do.

And boy does Spock live up to that aspect of the Star Trek legend in this film!  If you thought you saw the penultimate Vulcan temper flare when Kirk baited Spock in the previous movie, that was nothing compared to the fury that Spock exhibits when Kirk ‘dies.’  

Giving in to his rage, pain, and the fear of being without his best friend for the next fifty of his two hundred years (the average lifespan of a member of the Vulcan race), Spock pursues Khan through the streets and airways of San Francisco.  Even Spock’s vaunted Vulcan strength does not give him the upper hand against the genetically engineered Khan.  Only when Uhura arrives and begins firing on Khan is Spock able to pin him.  At which point he begins beating the villain with a piece of the freighter the three are riding on.

I suppose Spock might have eventually killed Khan.  But when Uhura manages to get it into Spock’s rage-benumbed mind that Khan can save Kirk, Spock pauses.  The viewer can see by the expression on Spock’s face that he is very tempted to simply finish Khan on the spot.  Even dead, his blood might have saved Kirk.

But Spock does not kill Khan.  He rises above the brink of evil.  He takes the handle from the freighter and knocks Khan out in one smooth blow.  Very cute move; I hope he did it hard.

Subsequently, Kirk is revived to become a stronger, less cocky (maybe…), starship captain.  He has seen evil again, not just outside of him but inside as well.  And he has defeated that blackness every human has in their heart.  He hasn’t permanently wiped it out, but Kirk has withstood this siege and won.

Spock similarly stands stronger than he did at the beginning of the film.  Having come to understand that emotions are without an on/off switch, he accepts the position they hold in his being and moves on with his friends.

This triumph is in stark contrast to the movie’s two antagonists.  I will begin with Admiral Marcus.  When Marcus arrives to destroy the Enterprise (commanding a ship named – surprise, surprise – Vengeance), we learn that he has been preparing Starfleet for war underneath the public’s and the politicians’ noses.

Marcus has distorted Starfleet’s mission; instead of seeing the Fleet as a force for peaceful exploration, and defense if the explorers’ way of life is threatened, he sees it as a war machine.  Very typical of the military/industrial complex Hollywood enjoys harping about.

That aspect aside, Marcus has ‘fallen’ Into Darkness.  He is planning, the Enterprise crew and the audience learn, to start a war with the Klingons.  His excuse for doing this?  War is coming anyway.  The Klingons are preparing for it; so should Starfleet. 

To make certain the Federation has the upper hand in this coming, glorious battle, Marcus has awoken the twentieth century menace Khan Noonien Singh.  And, much like the sorcerer who summons a demon to devour his enemies for him in old fairy tales, Marcus himself is destroyed when Khan turns on him.

For his part, Khan has also ‘fallen’ Into Darkness.  But he has been sailing that black sea far longer than Marcus.  A genetically enhanced human who wrought havoc on earth during the Eugenics’ Wars (in Star Trek history, this took place in the 1990’s); Khan and his remaining seventy-two crewmembers look down on all non-enhanced people as inferiors.

In a way, this was what always made Khan so pitiable.  Khan was a brilliant man who could have done great things but instead let his pride run amok, as it does here.  You know what they say about pride going before a fall.  Through Into Darkness, Khan gives viewers a good idea of what it is like when someone bows down before the all-consuming fire of pride.  And in the three hundred and some years since he fell to his knees before it, Khan has lost all of the humanity he ever had, demonstrated when he brutally breaks Carol Marcus’ leg and then kills her father – right before her eyes.

Now, I know I have sounded extremely (cough) dark here, so I will try to end this on a happier note.  I think that the best way to do this is to make a small mention of the ending for the film.

At the end, Kirk gives the eulogy at a funeral; I believe it is Admiral Pike’s.  His words do not mean very much (until he recites the familiar lines from ‘Space, the final frontier…’).  What does mean a great deal, however, are the images that accompany his speech.

The day of the funeral is overcast, justly somber as the Federation mourns its dead and those who died to pride (Admiral Marcus).  Meanwhile, other members of Starfleet are shown putting a re-iced Khan and his remaining crew in deep storage, away from even the misty grey of a sad day.

In a way, Khan and his people are also being buried.  Oh, they are alive in their stasis pods, their bodies still function.  They are not physically dead.  But if the other seventy-two are anything at all like Khan, they are dead spiritually.  So although they are technically imprisoned in dreamless sleep, in effect they are being entombed the same way that any actual dead men would be.

Meanwhile, Kirk and his crew still walk, talk, and feel; they are very alive despite the pain they have all experienced in this ordeal.  And they get to go on living.  They get to go on the famous, five year deep-space mission.  They get to walk among the stars.  That’s more than Khan will get to do for a long, long time.  All because he gave in where others resisted.

Maybe that was not a particularly chipper ending to this note, but it is the best I’ve got at the moment.  I will try to do better next time. 

See you around, Tony!

Later,

Mithril

Ballads of the Frontier West, Part 1

Marty Robbins Ballads

Hey, Giselle!

Wow, I have been away too long!  How is life treating you, Robert, and Morgan?  That’s great! 

Me?  Well, as you can see, I’ve been busy lately.  First it was torture DiNozzo by droning on and on about animated TV shows and movies.  Then it was burn off the ears of Marvel Comics’ writers – again.  And then it was talk to DiNozzo about movies again.  So I’ve had a full schedule for – whew, ages.  This will be a nice break.

I’m curious.  What do you think of when you hear the term ‘Western ballads’? 

Wait.  You don’t know any? 

Well then, have I got some suggestions for you!

I will warn you, some of these suggested songs are kind of sad.  The man in each of these upcoming ballads dies, loses his girlfriend and then dies, or is struggling through some terrible hardship.  People don’t really make up ballads these days; but the genre that included Western ballads some years ago is now called country music.

It is not an inaccurate name for this style of music.  But there are people who like to make fun of it, usually by saying, “What happens when you play country music backwards?  You get your girlfriend back, you get your truck back, and you get your dog back…”

I guess it is a pretty funny joke.  And most country songs do talk about some poor fella reaching the end of his rope after losing his dog, his truck, his girlfriend, etc.  But that doesn’t make the music bad.  And it certainly does not diminish the stories in each song – that is, after all, why they are called ballads.  They are supposed to tell stories; particularly romantic or sentimental narratives.  One can’t get much more sentimental than empathizing with somebody who has lost it all through hard luck. 

Not only that, most of the ballads I am about to list are based on the kinds of events cowhands and others in the American West actually had to deal with.  An example is ‘Cool Water,’ which you can find here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8ewWSMNoHI.  In this song, Marty Robbins (he’s the singer) tells the story of a man and his horse trying to cross the desert.

The problem is they have run out of water.

One of the terrifying things about almost every desert on earth is that people stranded in nature’s ovens have often perished mere feet from water.  ‘Cool Water’ never mentions whether its protagonist found any water.  In this way it points out the reality of the frontier; there were no certainties, there was no easy way out.  One either learned the ways of the desert or one lost trying.  Sadly, some did not even have the chance to try.

Oh, yes, the girlfriend.  Most of those who dislike country music would probably roll their eyes at these two songs, but the thing is that the events in the ballads probably happened.  Not as often as they are portrayed in film, books, etc., but it is likely that they did happen at one time or another.

The first of these songs is ‘El Paso’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIHRgisdbeY), and the second is ‘Runnin’ Gun’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjWMNKnfjd8).  Both, like ‘Cool Water,’ are performed by Marty Robbins.  I don’t know if someone else has recorded these songs since his death, and if they have I don’t want to hear them.  Mr. Robbins is one of the best balladeers I have ever heard; to listen to anyone else sing these songs would only ruin them for me.

‘El Paso’ describes the fate of a young cowhand who falls for a Mexican saloon girl.  While she returns his affections (at least the ballad implies she does, as does a tie-in ballad bearing her name, ‘Feleena’), she will not leave her job.  She enjoys it too much.

Well, this leads to her flirting with another handsome cowboy.  Her cowboy is at the saloon this particular night.  Furious with jealousy, he kills this ‘rival.’  And then he bolts.  Killing, as many Western shows attest, was a hanging offense in that era.

So was horse stealing.  This poor fella grabbed the fastest horse hitched in front of the saloon and sped out of El Paso.  He dies at the end of the song, of course, because his love for Feleena is “stronger than [his] fear of death.”

While I have no statistics describing how often this type of scenario occurred, it would not surprise me if it happened more than once.  Still, that doesn’t make it quite as popular an event as Western television shows and movies may have led people to believe.  After all, how many knights back in the Middle Ages actually went around killing evil kings so they could win the hand of the kidnapped princess?  One or two might have done it, but stories need a plot.  The writer’s job is a whole lot easier if all he does is reuse the same plot in each story, with a few changes to spice each one up, of course.

‘Runnin’ Gun’ is similar to ‘El Paso’ in that Robbins’s, ummm, character, I suppose, dies.  However, this character is not killed because he shot a man in a saloon, though he may have nailed more than one in a bar.

‘Runnin’ Gun’ is the story of a wandering gunman for hire.  He’s fast with a six shooter (called such because the cylinder could hold six bullets), and killing is what keeps food in his mouth, clothes on his back, and a pillow under his head at night.  ‘Fast draws’ of the Old West have been replaced by writers these days with a more modern equivalent: assassins or hit men for hire.

This man’s no different than most of the assassins detailed in current literature: he has a sweetheart back home, and his life of constant killing means that “the nights begin to haunt [him] by the men that [he] left dead.”  So he decides to get out of the business and tells his girlfriend, Jeannie, that he will send for her once he is safely in Mexico.

Except that a bounty hunter finds him long before he makes it across the border.  Just like other fast draws before him, Robbins’ character meets a man with a faster hand, whom he predicts will someday end up in his place. 

Maybe the bounty hunter does, maybe he doesn’t.  Not every gunman of the Old West died because of (cough) ‘lead poisoning.’

Last song.  ‘Utah Carol’ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yejiDPbaHCQ) tells the story of a cowhand killed while out herding cattle.  This I know was a common enough occurrence back in the Old West so that I do not doubt the ballad is a twining of several such incidents.  In ‘Utah Carol,’ Robbins invites his friends (the listeners) to hear his tale about his old friend, Utah Carol.

Utah is described as a model cowboy.  One day, he and the other hands are busy rounding up the cattle when the rancher’s daughter joins them on her own pony.  Unfortunately, she no sooner rides up to the hands then something spooks the cattle and the herd begins to stampede. 

Being a smart girl, she makes a run for it.  But her saddle girth breaks and she falls off her mount.

Now, there is nothing that can stop a stampede of cattle or horses.  If a herd of either animal gets frightened enough, they will charge through anything – and through anyone. 

Utah Carol, being the hero he is, rides up and tries to get the girl on his pony.  But that doesn’t work.  So Utah gets the rancher’s daughter out of harm’s way and, since his pony’s gone and he’s the only thing standing, the herd charges at him.  Before it reaches him, Utah manages to “drop the leading steer,” presumably with a shot from his pistol. 

And so Utah Carol dies a hero’s death.  This song is not quite as sad, in principle, as the other ballads listed.  They are all wonderful to listen to and, if you like singing (which I know you do), they are easy to keep up with.  Considering these are songs that actual cowhands probably sang around the campfire (and may still sing around it today), I also enjoy the history attached to them.

Okay, maybe real events did not happen exactly the way they are portrayed in the songs.  Who cares?  The ballads are easy on the ears and they put a story to work in the mind.  They are some of the nicest ways to waste time.

What did I mean by part one, Giselle?  Well not all Western ballads were tragedies. 

Yes.  Part Two will be about the more chipper ballads from the Old West.  Some will be from Marty Robbins; a few will be from other performers.  But I promise they will be happier than, say, ‘El Paso’ or ‘Runnin’ Gun.’ 

Speaking of the Old West, I have to hit the saddle.  See you around, Giselle!

Later,

Mithril