Showing posts with label 1999. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1999. Show all posts

Saturday, 21 September 2019

1999



The Hidden Unity is 
Obi-Wan Kenobi and Elvis.

Buzz



“Spence didn’t get as far as 1999 in his Towards 2012 essay, but he imagined the rise of a “Stormer” generation of what he called “imperial youth.” 



As it happened, his predictions were more or less accurate. In 1999, we had nu-metal, The Matrix, tight clothes, short hair, No Logo anticorporate demos, the emergence of bondage styles, and the Goth underground moving into the mainstream, a revival of popularity for cocaine, and, more significantly, perhaps, the jittery rise of Red Bull, Starbucks and coffee society. 


Comics gave us proactive world-changing superheroes and villains in Authority, Marvel Boy, and Wanted.





What are you doing?

Lester, Burn ‘em :
Nothing.

You were masturbating.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
[Whispers] I was not.

Yes, you were.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
Oh, all right.
So shoot me. I was whacking off.
That's right. I was choking the bishop,  chafing the carrot.
You know, saying "hi" to my monster.



That's disgusting.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
Well, excuse me, but some of us still have blood pumping through our veins.


So do I.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
Really?
Well, I'm the only one who seems
to be doing anything about it.
[Grunts]

Lester, I refuse to live like this!
This is not a marriage.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
This hasn't been a marriage for years, 
but you were happy as long as I kept my mouth shut.

Well, guess what.

I've changed.
And The New Me whacks off when he feels horny... 'cause you're obviously not going to help me out in THAT department.

I see. You think you're the only one who's sexually frustrated.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
I'm not? 
Well, then, come on, baby. 
I'm ready.


Don't you mess with me, Mister.
I will divorce you so fast, it'll make your head spin.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
ON - WHAT - GROUNDS
I'm Not a Drunk.
I Don't Fuck Other Women.
I Don't Mistreat you.
I've Never Hit You.
I don't even try to touch you, since you made it so abundantly clear just how unnecessary you consider me to be!

But... I did support you when you got your license.

And some people might think that
entitles me to half of what's yours.


Oh!

Lester, Burn ‘em :
So, turn out the light when you come back to bed, okay?


[Lester Narrating] 
It's a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself.
Makes you wonder what else you can do that you've forgotten about.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
Hey, guys.

Scott Bakula! :
Lester. I didn't know you ran.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
I just started.

Jim II :
Good for you.

Lester, Burn ‘em :
I figured you guys might be able to give me some pointers.
I need to shape up, fast.

Scot Bakula :
Are you looking to just lose weight, or do you want to have increased strength and flexibility as well?

Lester, Burn ‘em :
I... I want to look good naked.




















“ Production came to an end on Buffy, Season 3 [1999], and over my Summer vacation, I was reading The Killer Angels, about the survivors of Gettysburg, and it immediately made me think of the Millennium Falcon.

You know, as most things do.”

— Joss Wheedon

Wednesday, 18 September 2019

Stormer Youth : Defection from Xavier’s



Junior Battle is like Solar Eclipse —
We Rarely See Him, 
But When We Do, 
It’s Always Special.





“Spence didn’t get as far as 1999 in his Towards 2012 essay, but he imagined the rise of a “Stormer” generation of what he called “imperial youth.” As it happened, his predictions were more or less accurate. In 1999, we had nu-metal, The Matrix, tight clothes, short hair, No Logo anticorporate demos, the emergence of bondage styles, and the Goth underground moving into the mainstream, a revival of popularity for cocaine, and, more significantly, perhaps, the jittery rise of Red Bull, Starbucks and coffee society. Comics gave us proactive world-changing superheroes and villains in Authority, Marvel Boy, and Wanted.


When last I was at Exeter,
The Mayor in courtesy show'd me The Castle,
And call'd it ‘Rougemont’ : at which name I started,
Because a Bard of Ireland told me once

I should not live long after I saw Richmond.


Junior Fury :
It's one of your contracts, sir.

I've amended that contract.

You require your players to maintain a 2.3 grade point average.
I’ve committed to maintaining a 3.5.

You require ten hours of community service, and l've committed to 50.

Any unexcused absences, any other disciplinary issues at school, you can nullify this agreement and send me to any school you want.

Papa Fury :
And how many days do I have
to consider this offer?

Junior Fury :
None.
The second page is a letter you need to sign that confirms my withdrawal from St. Francis [Xavier’s]
They know l'm leaving.

Papa Fury :
What?
You withdrew from St. Francis?

Junior Fury :
l called Richmond.
They expect me there in the morning.

Papa Fury :
You called Richmond?
You should have spoken to me
about this.

Junior Fury :
lt was a personal choice for me.

Papa Fury :
Well, I can fix all that in the morning.

Junior Fury :
Sir, please listen :

All l wanna do is play for you.
If I'm one of the top students at Richmond, I mean one of the top in the whole school, and I have great SATs, I can go to any college in the country.
l'm asking you to Trust Me.

Papa Fury :
You really wanna do this, huh?
Okay.
Part of growing up is making your own decisions and LIVING with The Consequences.

And you will EARN every minute of playing time.


Tuesday, 17 September 2019

Ladies and Gentlemen of The Class of 1999




At the prom. Everyone is standing, watching the stage. Xander is miming anticipation. 

Announcer: 
And the award for Sunnydale High's Class Clown for 1999 goes to — Jack Mayhew. 

  The winner puts on a balloon hat and acts silly. 

Xander: 
Please! Anybody can be a prop class clown. 
You know, none of the people who vote for these things are even funny. 

  Buffy is at the punch bowl, ignoring the ruckus. 
The announcer urges Jonathan to the microphone. 

Jonathan: 
We have one more award to give out. 
Is Buffy Summers here tonight? 
Did she, um... 

  The crowd turns and finds her. 
She looks nervous at the attention. 

Jonathan: 
This is actually a new category. 
First time ever. 
I guess there were a lot of write-in ballots, and, um, 
the prom committee asked me to read this. 

"We're not good friends. 
Most of us never found the time to get to know you, 
but that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you. 
We don't talk about it much, but it's no secret that Sunnydale High isn't really like other high schools. 
A lot of weird stuff happens here."

The Chorus :
Zombies! 
Hyena-People! 
Snyder! (laughter

"But, whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, 
you seemed to show up and stop it. 

Most of the people here have been Saved by you, 
or helped by you at one time or another. 
We're proud to say that the Class of '99 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history. 

(applause from the crowd) 

And we know at least part of that is because of you.  
So the senior class, offers its thanks, and gives you, uh, this —

  Jonathan produces a multicolored, glittering, miniature umbrella with a small metal plaque attached to the shaft. 

It's from all of us, and it has written here : -

' Buffy Summers —
Class Protector ' 

  The crowd breaks into sustained applause and cheering. 
Buffy walks to the stage and takes her award. 
 
  Cut to Buffy, watching the dancers. 
Giles comes up behind her. 

Giles: 
You did Good Work tonight, Buffy. 

Buffy: 
And I got a little toy surprise. 

Giles: 
I had no idea that children en masse could be gracious. 

Buffy: 
Every now and then, people surprise you. 

Giles: (looking past her) 
Every now and then. 




“Iain Spence published Sekhmet Hypothesis: The Signals of the Beginning of a New Identity as a book in 1995, but it wasn’t until two years later that I came across his ideas in an article he’d written for the magazine Towards 2012. As an illuminating way of reconsidering the familiar, I’m particularly fond of the Sekhmet Hypothesis, which never fails to get people talking at parties. As usual, please remember that this is just a framework; a way of ordering information into meaningful patterns in the service of creative lateral thinking, if you like. You may be able to find all kinds of examples to refute this data, but first bear in mind that I’ve used this predictive model to great effect and no small financial reward, and trust me when I say I’m passing it on as a tip, not as a belief system. If this book has made any point clear, I hope it’s that things don’t have to be real to be true. Or vice versa.

Soon you’ll notice how many advertisers and trend makers are aware of this theory and have been applying it to product placement, design, and the seasonal shifts of the rag trade since Spence published it. The more people know about it and react against it, or try to preempt it, the more the effect is likely to dissipate or find different ways to express itself. That may already be happening in the windblown halls of popular culture, although as I write, in 2010, Spence’s broad predictions are accurate still.

Sunspot activity follows a twenty-two-year cyclical pattern, building to a period of furious activity known as the solar maximum, then calming down for the solar minimum. Every eleven years, the solar magnetic field also undergoes a polarity reversal. It’s a little like a huge switch that toggles on or off, or the volume slider on a mixing desk, with loud at one end and silent at the other, and each period is given an identifying number. Cycle 23, for instance, had its maximum in 1999.

Spence suggests that these regular rewirings of the solar magnetic field naturally have an effect on the human nervous system, which leaves its traces most clearly in our cultural record—like a desert wind carving the shape of its passage into the dunes of fashion, art, and music. As a shorthand toward understanding the two maximum states we flip between, Spence suggests we can regard one pole as having a “punk” character, while its opposite may be thought of as “hippie.”

In Spence’s lexicon, at least as I understand it (his own website will set you straight if.   wrong), punk maxima can be identified in a fashion vogue for short hair, tight clothes, short, punchy popular music, aggression, speedy drugs, and materialism. Hippie, as I’m sure you’ll have guessed, is associated with signifiers from the converse end of the spectrum, like long hair, loose or baggy clothes, longer-form popular music, psychedelic or mind-expanding drugs, peace, and a renewed interest in the spiritual or transcendental. He focused on youth culture trends on the basis that young nervous systems registered the magnetic reversals most profoundly and reflected them back in the lineaments of the art and music they made or consumed. So far, so good.

In 1955, when our planet was bombarded by cycle 19 solar magnetic waves, young people in the West responded like needles in a groove with rock ’n’ roll’s tight jeans, short hair, biker JD aggression, short, fast songs, and widespread use of stimulant drugs like speed and coffee.

Silver Age comic-book punk was embodied by crew-cut Barry Allen in his speed suit. “Chemicals and Lighting” could have been a song or a band. 

The tight suits, establishment men, and emphasis on science and rationality are all “wrong), punk maxima can be identified in a fashion vogue for short hair, tight clothes, short, punchy popular music, aggression, speedy drugs, and materialism. Hippie, as I’m sure you’ll have guessed, is associated with signifiers from the converse end of the spectrum, like long hair, loose or baggy clothes, longer-form popular music, psychedelic or mind-expanding drugs, peace, and a renewed interest in the spiritual or transcendental. He focused on youth culture trends on the basis that young nervous systems registered the magnetic reversals most profoundly and reflected them back in the lineaments of the art and music they made or consumed. So far, so good.

In 1955, when our planet was bombarded by cycle 19 solar magnetic waves, young people in the West responded like needles in a groove with rock ’n’ roll’s tight jeans, short hair, biker JD aggression, short, fast songs, and widespread use of stimulant drugs like speed and coffee.
Silver Age comic-book punk was embodied by crew-cut Barry Allen in his speed suit. “Chemicals and Lighting” could have been a song or a band. The tight suits, establishment men, and emphasis on science and rationality are all typical, as are Stan Lee’s realistic superheroes such as the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man.

Eleven years later, cycle 20 reversed the polarity. By 1966, hair had become longer, clothes were looser and more flamboyant, music became more involved and sophisticated, and the drugs were mind expanders like LSD.


In 1966 the cosmic wave entered the comics, to bring with it the gods of Thor, villains like the Anti-Matter Man, and John Broome’s psychedelic Flash stories. The new heroes were antiestablishment “freaks” and mutants.

Nineteen seventy-seven brought a shift back to punk, as expressed in Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood’s fifties-influenced clothes and music, bondage and restriction, amphetamine sulfate use, and angry, confrontational politics.

The comics boom of that cycle gave us Judge Dredd, Frank Miller’s gritty noir, Alan Moore’s harsh logical realism.

Nineteen eighty-eight saw ecstasy, or MDMA, as the favored drug, accompanying long-form trance, ambient and dance music, Manchester “baggy” fitness wear as street wear, grunge beards, and a return to long hair. In comic books, this was the time of Deadline, Doom Patrol, Shade, and Sandman.

Spence didn’t get as far as 1999 in his Towards 2012 essay, but he imagined the rise of a “Stormer” generation of what he called “imperial youth.” As it happened, his predictions were more or less accurate. In 1999, we had nu-metal, The Matrix, tight clothes, short hair, No Logo anticorporate demos, the emergence of bondage styles, and the Goth underground moving into the mainstream, a revival of popularity for cocaine, and, more significantly, perhaps, the jittery rise of Red Bull, Starbucks and coffee society. Comics gave us proactive world-changing superheroes and villains in Authority, Marvel Boy, and Wanted.

This book will be published in 2011, when the fruits of the next wave will be hard to avoid. As I write, the word psychedelic is being used so often on TV and in magazines that it’s barely funny. Avatar’s hippy eco-vision of an interconnected natural world and the massive success of Alice in Wonderland (always popular during hippie periods) exemplify this current, as do the vampire heroes who have occupied the imaginative place once taken by sixties Pre-Raphaelite and Edwardian dandies. In comics, the “realism” boom has been quietly left behind like an unfashionable pair of trousers. The new superhero books are becoming more fantastic, colorful, and self-consciously “mythic.”

Spence’s article does not, nor will I, attempt to track the alleged effects of these undeniably real solar magnetic events on non-Western cultures. 
Neither does he extend his argument backward to consider the ways in which the popular arts scene of 1944 could be described in “hippie” terms (LSD, however, was synthesized in 1945), or that of 1933 as “punk” (although perhaps Weimar decadence and the art of George Grosz could build a case there). And so on. I leave that contemplation to skeptics who choose to debunk the idea or to zealots who want to believe it.

Unless Terence McKenna’s “Timewave Zero” theories are correct, and we collapse into an atemporal singularity on December 21, 2012, 2021 will bring the cycle back around to “punk,” and if this seesaw sounds horribly predictable and repetitive, be assured that it will all seem fresh to the young people who take their own inspiration from the solar trade winds.

As for me, I intended to bring my run on JLA to an end along with the century. The Invisibles, too, was scheduled to wrap in 2000, and I planned to re-create myself again to complement the change in the weather. I was almost forty, had never felt better, and wanted to be ready for the harsher spirit I’d decided was on its way in the wake of the Labour election win, the death of the former Princess Diana, and the commencement of cycle 23.
I’d also just met my future wife, Kristan, a stunning, brainy blonde who dressed like Barbarella to go to the pub, worked as a corporate insurance broker, and read Philip K. Dick. It would be another three years before our paths crossed again and we were able to get together, but that die was already cast.

On a trip to Venice, Italy, I bought my first real suit—Donna Karan—and was encouraged to go corporate. Smart tailoring and the jargon of advertising, motivational speaking, instead of fractal-patterned shirts and druggy psychedelia, seemed the way to go in cycle 23. At heart, I’d always been an uptight Presbyterian anyway. I’d never been “able to get back to the radiant world I’d reached in Kathmandu, and I’d begun to “suspect it was because in some way I was already there. I had very little doubt that I’d “wake up” in that place at the moment of death, like a game player looking up from the screen where his avatar lies bleeding, only to realize he’s home and safe and always was.

“The drugs don’t work, they just make you worse,” sang the Verve, and after eight years of experimentation, ruthless self-examination, ego inflation, and ego loss, I had to admit they were probably onto something. The shallow hedonistic spirit of the nineties was too fragile to endure the cold of the vast twin shadows cast backward by an onrushing age of terror. Darker times were on their way, demanding a new clarity and rigor of thought.

I tried to articulate the outlines of the next trend by introducing to the pages of JLA a military-funded superteam called the Ultramarines, whipped up by Uncle Sam to keep the Justice League in check should their internationalist stance ever compromise US military security. By the end of the story, the Ultramarines had split from their paymasters and joined with a group of like-minded DC heroes in a hovering city-sized headquarters named Superbia, there to announce a bold new manifesto for change :

SUPERBIA HEREBY DECLARES INDEPENDENCE FROM ALL NATIONS AND OPENS ITS GATES TO SUPER-CHAMPIONS FROM THE FOUR CORNERS OF THE EARTH. WE INTEND TO SERVE AS A FIRST-STRIKE GLOBAL PEACEKEEPING FORCE. WE WILL KILL IF WE HAVE TO. IF WE HAVE TO, WE’LL LET YOU KNOW. TERRORISTS, DESPOTS, CORRUPT BUSINESSMEN … THE INTERNATIONAL ULTRAMARINE CORPS IS HERE. THERE’S NOWHERE TO HIDE.

As it happened, I’d almost exactly described what the next big development of the superhero concept would look like.

Meanwhile, I prepared myself for the oncoming zeitgeist by listening to Chris Morris’s bleak, brilliant, bad-trippy Blue Jam on Radio 1 every Thursday after John Peel. Oddly enough, I was beginning to find humor in all the things that had once frightened me. The prying eye of Big Brother, the aging process, loneliness, failure, and death were all just punch lines to the joke. I loved to listen over and over again to HAL 9000’s death scene from the soundtrack to 2001 : A Space Odyssey, and when Jarvis Cocker and Pulp released their masterpiece comedown album, This Is Hardcore, its unflinching evocation of middle age, stale waterbeds, and tinny bachelor pad music made me rethink my own lifestyle.

I was about as alien as I’d ever wanted to be, but I’d grown tired of one-night stands, drink, drugs, and the dating game.

It was time to get serious.”


Papa Roach


End of Days
Gabriel Byrne - Rod Steiger - Kevin Pollock
Miriam Margolyes



Nhu8



The Duel of The Fates

Fight Club

Clubbed to Death


Earshot

The Columbine Clues

EgyptAir 990

Sunday, 18 August 2019

The Hypertime of Back to The Future









"How does it work? Off the central timeline we just left. Events of importance often cause divergent “tributaries” to branch off the main timestream. 

But what’s astounding is there’s far more to it than that. On occasion, these tributaries return—sometimes feeding back into the central timeline, other times overlapping it briefly before charting an entirely new course. 

An old friend is suddenly recalled after years of being forgotten. 

A scrap of history becomes misremembered, even reinvented in the common wisdom. 

There are hazards to Hypertime, of course.... 

Artifacts carried into differing hypertimelines dangerously break down the barriers between kingdoms... but you’ll learn more about that in the months and years to come. "
 
— (Rip Hunter, The Kingdom #2, 1999)



One reassuring thing is that, despite the fears of some, the timestream seems capable of absorbing paradoxes.  

“Some would have you believe that time is a house of cards, and that if you remove one card, the house collapses. 

The physics of time, however, allow for another possibility: remove that same card, and the house rebuilds itself— but never to its original form” 


— (Chronos #9, 1998).







BRUCE BANNER: [Disgusted] 
First of all, that's horrible...

RHODEY: 
It's Thanos.

BRUCE BANNER: 
...And secondly, Time doesn't work that way. 
Changing The Past doesn't change The Future.

SCOTT LANG: 
Look, we go back, we get the stones before Thanos gets them... 
Thanos doesn't have the stones. Problem solved.

CLINT BARTON: 
Bingo.

NEBULA: 
That's not How it Works.

CLINT BARTON: 
Well, that's what I heard.

BRUCE BANNER: 
What? By who? 
Who told you that?

RHODEY:
 [counting with his fingers] 
Star Trek, 

Does not apply to Capt. Benjamin Sisko/Gabriel Bell,
Emissary of The Prophets,
or The Prophets of Bajor themselves —
It is Not Linear.

Terminator

Terminator actually exploits a Deterministic Bootstrap Paradox.

TimeCop

Time After Time -

Nobody Travels into The Past in Time After Time — 
Jack The Ripper travels into The Present, pursed by  H.G. Wells

SCOTT LANG: 
Quantum Leap -

 This is, in fact, exactly how Time Travel in Quantum Leap works — it's the entire premise for the whole show :

It's The Observer Effect — 
You Change The Result by Measuring It.

The only reason Dr. Sam Beckett is able to make The Journey of crossing his own timeline, be an actor in events of The Past and change established history is because he has no memory of history, as a consequence of making The Journey.

That's also the reason why his range of travel is restricted to The Past within his own lifetime - he is not actually travelling history to change it, he is re-visiting events in Living Memory, making new memories and Remembering it Differently.

He is only able to do this, because he has completely forgotten The Past — or, at least, is far-from certain he is remembering it correctly

Meanwhile, Al, "The Observer" either does remember the original history, or is able to access it's records via Ziggy The Computer's Database — he is able to project an image of himself into the Memories of The Collective Unconscious to communicate information (in the form of stochastic Quantum Probabilities) to Sam, whilst being unable to directly affect any change himself)

It is significant that when Sam is able to recall memories of History or his past life, he invariably misremembers them, until 'corrected' by Al, who remembers Sam 'accurately'.

Sam initially misremembers Ziggy as being the 'Little Guy, with The Bad Breath.' But no, that's Gouschi, as Al correctly informs him.

Sam then misremembers Ziggy as being the Male Personality of the Quantum AI Supercomputer controlling Project Quantum Leap, for the next 3 Years — 
Al never corrects him.

Ziggy is Male — until he swaps places with Al, arrives back home at his Point of Origin and Ziggy has become a female supercomputer (programmed with Barbara Steisand's ego).

And Sam is now a married man. 
Which he wasn't before.

He returns to find himself released into The Present,
Facing Mirror Images that are finally his own,
And driven by manifest necessity to rescue his friend from History.

His only bride in this endeavour is Donna (neé Elisi), 
A Science-WorkWife from His Own Field,
Who appears in the form of a Woman everybody else can See and Hear —

And so, Dr. Becket found himself, married to his former long-lost sweetheart, 
whose life he successfully turned around in one of his earliest leaps, somehow happily married to him despite having previously having jilted two former financés at The Altar, with Sam being the second and latter of the two-time loser schucks she went and made them look ridiculous....

RHODEY: 
A Wrinkle in Time, 
Somewhere in Time -

Where Christopher Reeve travels into The Past via Deep Trance Hypnosis.

SCOTT LANG: 
Hot Tub Time Machine -

The Theory of Time Travel in Hot Tub Time Machine actually plays to The Bootstrap Predestination Paradox — 
You can visit The Past to create The Present, but you cannot create any outcome that hasn't always been True.

RHODEY: 
Hot Tub Time Machine. 
Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. 

Again, Bill and Ted can cross their own timeline to create their present circumstance, but they can also generate future events and consequences simply by an Act of Will, through sincere intent — 

'Once I and My Friend Have Succeeded and Triumphed,
I Will Go Back in Time After Now to Steal My Dad's Keys, 
Therefore I Know Where They Are 
and So Once I Collect Them, I Shall Have Them'

Small wonder it is then, that the people of the society of Rufus' era come to regard William S. (Hey, I only just noticed that one! —) and Theodore Logan as Nietzschan Superman —

Thus Spake Zarathustra : —
'No Way...!'

Basically, any movie that deals with time travel.

SCOTT LANG: 
Die Hard? No, it's not one...

Now, There's a line to be pondered-over for decades to come, if ever I saw one....

If I was to speculate at this point, I would maybe suggest that Scott suggests this because he is remembering the line 

'How Can The Same Shit Happen to The Same Guy Twice?'

Now, that's just a guess — and I am a good guesser, generally.
But I am certainly not prepared to commit myself emotionally to any answer on this, and definitely not at this stage, at a point so early into The Game —

Time May Tell — it usually does.


RHODEY: 
This is known.

BRUCE BANNER: 
I don't know why everyone believes that, but that isn't True. 

Think about it: If you travel to The Past
that past becomes Your Future

And your former Present becomes The Past
Which can't now be changed by Your New Future...

NEBULA: 
Exactly.

SCOTT LANG: 
So... Back To The Future's a bunch of bullshit..?

Well, Back to The Future Part II certainly isn't — and  nor mostly is Back to The Future Part III, which is also fine, because it involves journeying into History beyond Living Memory (which is precisely what Dr. Sam Beckett is unable to do — 
except for that one time when he was flung back into The Civil War, into his Family History, by swapping places with his own ancestor.)

So, how is it that Marty and Doc Brown are able to interact and commune across time in safety so relatively freely in 1955, and interact with Marty's closest blood relatives and immediate antecedents, whilst avoiding many of the most serious hazards (unless you happen to be a Pine Tree, of course), and have those interactions affect stable and lasting change in The Present?

Rather alarmingly, it appears to have much to do with suffering concussive head trauma —

Marty Mc.Fly gets knocked unconscious a lot....

Almost all of the major characters do, at some point or another, whether by means of Chloroform, gut-rot whiskey, the Doc's Delta-Wave sleep inducer, a bolt of lightning, getting chased by a bear over a cliff.....

But if you pay careful attention, almost any change in temporal location for Marty is usually either accompanied by, or swiftly followed by a severe blow to the head, which renders him completely unconscious for several hours — almost every character comments upon this, but Doc Brown's initial encounter with Marty in 1955 and all of his subsequent interactions occur beginning on the day he slipped, standing on the wet edge of his toilet and cracked his head against the sink, whereafter he first conceived of the Flux Capacitor as a vision in his unconscious stupor. 

This is initially speculated to be the cause for his apparent failure to remember the subsequent events of November 5-12th 1955 whilst Marty stayed with him, and failure to prepare for What is to Come, in spite of giving him privileged access to and future knowledge of the finished and completed time vehicle he hasn't built yet.

Of course, as we all know, it eventually transpires that he does remember them (although whether or not he did before, and all along is somewhat open to debate, given the evidence of Lone/Twin Pines Mall), and the Doc's freedom and capacity to choose a New Future for himself ultimately hinges solely on his decision to trust his friend, and have faith in Marty's love and affection for him, irrespective of the fact that he is a friend who has not yet actually met yet, in a strictly linear sense of the causalities involved.

Just for good measure, at the start of Back to The Future III, now that things have become really complicated causally with respect to Doc Brown's memories, he throws in the additional piece of speculation, whilst Journaling about the previous evening's successful time experiment, that the consequence of having electromagnetic flux (fluxing), when having been stood directly next to a bolt of lightning striking a copper cable (with quite a considerable jolt of that old 1.21-JgW. likely having passed through his body) had erased part of his memory and induced a degree of retrograde amnesia of the past week's event — which is all very sound scientifically..... 




Magnetic Pulses of relatively minute flux density, directed towards the frontal cortex and cerebellum are proven to produce (or rather, induce) profound subjective sensory and perceptual synesthesia, and can most certainly block formation of new memories, and even erase, re-contextualise or re-write existing memories, both recent and long-term. 









Tuesday, 4 June 2019

The Cause


Know this, Son of Coul. 
You and I, We fight for the same Cause, The Protection of This World. 
From this day forward you can count me as Your Ally, IF you return the items you have taken from Jane. 




The Confederate Flag and the Lost Cause: The Truth About The Confederacy


“ Production came to an end on Buffy, Season 3 [1999], and over my Summer vacation, I was reading The Killer Angels, about the survivors of Gettysburg, and it immediately made me think of the Millennium Falcon. 

You know, as most things do.

As the more advanced cultures become more homogonised and spread out into the other worlds where life is tougher and people are more diverse, there's conflict. 

I was dealing with the idea of a Civil War, and the idea of rebuilding people who had lost The War - this is something that is a big part of American Fiction.

There's very little American Fiction about the people who won The War, about The North, the people we all like to be identified with, we're all interested in The South because they lost, and we love Losers.

The forming of The Alliance causes a power that is so great that there's no way it can justly rule over The Entire Universe, and so I'm dealing with the people on The Fringes who're saying  :

'You Don't Belong Here, You Don't Belong on Our Soil, 
Yes, You Guys are Progressive, 
You've Got Great Medicine, Incredible Healthcare Plan, 
You've Got Freedom of Religion, 
You've Got All These Great Things 
and 
We Don't Have That Stuff, 
and 
Some of Our Customs are Arcane, 
and 
Some of Them, Maybe, a Little Barbaric -  

But We Have a Right to Be Ourselves.'

And that's where the Utopian Vision stops, because whenever you create some kind of Utopia you find something ugly working underneath it."


— Joss Wheedon

Thursday, 30 May 2019

The Celestial Ship of the North




After The Earth was used up, we found a new solar system and hundreds of new Earths were terraformed and colonized. 

The central planets formed The Alliance and decided all the planets had to join under their rule. 

There was some disagreement on that point. 

After The War, many of the Independents who had fought and lost drifted to the edges of the system, far from Alliance control. 

Out here, people struggled to get by with the most basic technologies; a ship would bring you work, a gun would help you keep it. 

A Captain's goal was simple: find a crew, find a job, keep flying.

“ Production came to an end on Buffy, Season 3 [1999], and over my Summer vacation, I was reading The Killer Angels, about the survivors of Gettysburg, and it immediately made me think of the Millennium Falcon. 

You know, as most things do.

As the more advanced cultures become more homogonised and spread out into the other worlds where life is tougher and people are more diverse, there's conflict. 

I was dealing with the idea of a Civil War, and the idea of rebuilding people who had lost The War - this is something that is a big part of American Fiction.

There's very little American Fiction about the people who won The War, about The North, the people we all like to be identified with, we're all interested in The South because they lost, and we love Losers.

The forming of The Alliance causes a power that is so great that there's no way it can justly rule over The Entire Universe, and so I'm dealing with the people on The Fringes who're saying  :

'You Don't Belong Here, You Don't Belong on Our Soil, 
Yes, You Guys are Progressive, 
You've Got Great Medicine, Incredible Healthcare Plan, 
You've Got Freedom of Religion, 
You've Got All These Great Things 
and 
We Don't Have That Stuff, 
and 
Some of Our Customs are Arcane, 
and 
Some of Them, Maybe, a Little Barbaric -  

But We Have a Right to Be Ourselves.'

And that's where the Utopian Vision stops, because whenever you create some kind of Utopia you find something ugly working underneath it."


— Joss Wheedon


INT. BAR - DAY

It's a small, disreputable place, doing a brisk but low-key business. Most of the people here are probably up to something they don't want other people to know about. The dark wood and clutter suggest a Western space, but it is definitely multi-cultural: a bellydancer makes her way about the room, and everyone's mode of dress is diverse -- though none is too fancy.

We follow a BELLY DANCER's undulating belly through the space, coming to a table with three people sitting at it. ZOE and JAYNE are more or less facing us, MAL has his back mostly turned. The three are concentrating on a game we can't see.

Those who look carefully will spot the bellydancer's hand as it slips Mal a piece of paper, which he slips in turn into his pocket.

JAYNE
(to Mal)
Your move.

Camera ARMS UP to see the game on the table is Chinese Checkers. Mal moves.

ZOE
That's a bold move.

MAL
I live on the edge.

Zoe makes a much better move.

JAYNE
(to Mal)
Nice work, dumbass.

MAL
I've given some thought to moving
off the edge, it's not an ideal
location... might get a place in
the middle...

VOICEOVER (O.S.)
A toast!

The VOICE is surly, loud. Trouble waiting to happen. As it speaks, Mal turns back towards camera and we see him in closeup. Calm, assessing the danger.

ANGLE: The guy who spoke, LUND. A drunken dick, holding court at the bar.

LUND
A toast. Shut up! Quiet, I'm, I
got words. I'm say, this is an
asspishus day. We all know what
day it is...

ANGLE: The gang. Mal is stone-faced, Zoe the same. They clearly know where this is going. Jayne has no clue.

JAYNE
Suspicious? What day is it?

LUND
A glorious day for all the proud
members of the Allied planets.
Unification Day! The end of the
Independent scumbags and the dawn
of a new galaxy! Yeah-huh!

He downs a shot.

Mal is grabbing his empty glass, rising.

ZOE
Captain...

MAL
Just feeling the need for a drink.

JAYNE
(not paying attention)
What month is it?

Mal moves to the bar, far from Lund.

MAL
(in Chinese)
< Can I have one more glass of Ng-
Ka-Pei, please? >

Lund, naturally, sidles up to him.

LUND
You gonna drink to the Alliance with me?

Mal looks at him, looks away.

LUND
(continuing)
Six years today... The Alliance sent the browncoats running, pissing their pants.

Mal is not biting. He gets his drink, tosses a weird looking bill on the bar.

LUND
(continuing)
Your coat's kind of a brownish color...

MAL
It was on sale.

He drinks.

LUND
You didn't toast! You know, I'm thinking you're one of them. Independents.

MAL
And I'm thinking you weren't burdened with an overabundance of schooling. 
So why don't we just ignore each other till we go away?

He turns back to the bar. Lund pursues.

LUND
The Independents were a bunch of inbred, cowardly pisspots shoulda been killed off a every world spinnin'.

Mal turns, ready for the fight.

MAL
Say that to my face.

LUND
I said, you're a coward and a
pisspot. Now what're you gonna do
about it?

Mal smiles casually.

MAL
Nothing. I just wanted you to face
me so she could get behind you.

Lund spins and Zoe SWAPS him with the butt of her sawed-off. He goes down.

Mal and Zoe smile grimly at each other as she holsters the weapon.

MAL
(continuing)
Drunks are so cute.

Suddenly, seven GUYS stand up, seeing what happened to Lund. They are not wearing colors like Mal and Zoe's.

MAL
(continuing; in
Chinese)
< Oh, this is a happy
development... >

Zoe turns, sees the coming fight.

ZOE
Jayne...

ANGLE: Jayne: Sits, unconcerned.

JAYNE
Hey, I didn't fight in no war.
Best of luck, though...

MAL
Fine. Lets do this.

EXT - BAR - CONTINUING (AFTERNOON)

Mal goes flying through the front window -- only it's not glass, rather an ionized field that CRACKLES and REFORMS after he passes through.

He rolls in the dirt, stops. Looking up, he hears the sound of fighting within -- we might notice at this point that the sky contains THREE MOONS, one so close it looks like another planet on the horizon.

Mal shakes off the punch, pulls out a transmitter.

MAL
(into transmitter)
Wash, we got some local color happening... a grand entrance would not go amiss...

Zoe comes flying out the door, takes two others with her, giving them hell.

Mal rises, helps her put them down.

MAL
(continuing)
Is Jayne even awake --

Three guys come backwards out of the bar, driven by the table Jayne is wielding. Another comes behind and he elbows him into dreamland without even looking back. Jayne is an incredible fighter.

Our gang ends up side by side, facing an angry bunch of at least ten guys. We might notice our three backed up at the EDGE OF A CLIFF.

MAL
(continuing)
Well, there's just an acre of you fellows...
(to Zoe)
This is why we lost, you know: superior numbers.

ZOE
Thanks for the reenactment, sir.

Lund forces his way through the crowd and pulls his gun. This changes things. Our gang look at each other.

JAYNE
Them ain't kosherized rules...

Others pull guns (even though they feel odd about it). Our gang don't yet.

LUND
I'm thinking someone should put you down, dog. 
What do you think?

MAL
I'm thinking we'll rise again.

It is at this moment that SERENITY rises from behind the cliff, dwarfing our combatants.

Wind rips through everyone, the assailants starting back in fear (and grit in their eyes). 
An amplified voice (WASH's) comes over a loudspeaker:

WASH (O.S.)
Every man there go back inside or we will blow a new crater in this little moon.

Lund and the others back off, grumbling but cowed.

ANGLE: Behind our heroes.

The airlock door opens and our gang step onto it from the cliff face.

INT. AIRLOCK/CARGO BAY - CONTINUING

The doors shut behind them. Mal and Zoe head upstairs as Jayne wanders off, saying:

JAYNE
Damn yokels can't even tell a transport ship ain't got no guns on it.
(chuckling)
"Blow a new crater in this moon..."

INT. FOREDECK HALL/BRIDGE - MOMENTS LATER

Mal and Zoe are entering the bridge as Kaylee is coming up the hall behind them, grease on her face and some unidentifiable ship part in her hand. She's thrilled by the drama.

MAL
(to Wash)
Nice save.

WASH
Pleasure.

MAL
How are our passengers?

KAYLEE
They're fine. What happened? Was there a terrible brawl?

ZOE
(eyeing Mal)
Oddly enough, there was.

WASH
You getting my wife into trouble?

MAL
What? I didn't start it. Just wanted a quiet drink.

ZOE
Funny, Sir, how you always find yourself in some Alliance-friendly bar come U-Day, looking for a
"quiet drink."

MAL
See, this is a sign of your tragic space dementia. All paranoid and crotchety, it breaks the heart.

WASH
Well did we least make a contact?

Mal smiles, produces the piece of paper handed him by the bellydancer.

Mal
Ladies and menfolk, we got ourselves a job.

He hands the paper to Zoe.

MAL
(continuing)
Take us out of The World, Wash.
(looking ahead)
Got us some crime to be done.

EXT. SERENITY - CONTINUING

As it blasts past camera, heading out of the atmosphere.

END OF TEASER


BOY 1
Do you get scared coming to work at the White House?

JOSH
No. I mean, we're bystanders, basically, and we work around a lot of people who routinely put themselves in harm's way-the Secret Service and the military. 

You know, the protection detail? 

They practice a thousand different scenarios for a gun: who tackles the president, who opens the car, who's covering the perimeter, and there's one guy whose job it is to stand in front of the bullet. 

Not get the shooter - stand in front of the bullet. I've seen him do it.

GIRL 1
Do you ever think about quitting?

JOSH
No. 
[hesitates for a moment, and continues] 
Well... my, uh... my mother wants me to. 

My family members have a habit of, uh, dying before you're supposed too. 
So it's just me and my mom now and... 
You guys know I guess, that I got accidentally shot a little bit or something at Rosslyn. 
So, she'd like to see me in the private sector. 

But I tell her my government salary may not be a lot, but I still make more than the guy whose job it is to stand in front of the bullet, so how do I tell him I'm quitting? 

So she made me this box that I'm supposed to keep in the trunk of my car, and it's got a super-powered flashlight, five gallons of water, and a transistor radio, and some first aid. 

But she keeps thinking of things to add to it. She'll call and say, uh, 
"I found that cap that Dad got Joe Pepitone to sign for you on your birthday. 
You wore it to school every day in the seventh grade. 
You want me to send it to you so you can put it in the box?" 

Josh has trailed off a bit, and stops for a moment, looking sad and serious. 

He looks around the room for a moment. He starts up again, livelier.

JOSH
So... I'll say 
"Yeah, Ma, let's put it in the box." 

Josh gives a little chuckle. He walks over, leaning against something by the wall.

JOSH
So anyway, I... I don't know against who, and I don't know what it's going to look like,  but one of these days we're gonna have a big win, and for a lot of us who've seen what we've seen, we're not leaving till we do. 

I'm gonna be here six presidents from now, in my office, Wile E. Coyote and a map.