Friday, May 16, 2014

Godzilla has inspired me to write my own kaiju story

When crafting kaiju stories, I think I most admire how writers and directors are able to deal with the immensity of the strange beast. It's easy to be a critic of these kinds of movies, to sit back and say with abandonment, "A monkey could string together this plot. It's a giant monster destroying a city." But in the latest reboot of Godzilla and in last year's Pacific Rim, I saw a brilliance that I'm hoping will inspire my own kaiju story (because I really want to write one).

For one, the monster has to have a plausible origin story (since what makes kaiju interesting is that they rampage on Earth). This is different than a zombie story, which can just happen "as is" with no explanation as to its origin. People that are into kaiju films are the same kind of people that like their fantasy with well-detailed magic systems where an author goes to great lengths to provide explanations of cause and effect. I think if you don't explain the kaiju well, then the whole story kind of falls apart like a bad souffle.

I admire how Pacific Rim handled this: creating an alternate dimension filled with hostile beings that used genetically-crafted giant monsters as their weapons of mass destruction. In a word? Brilliant. Godzilla is equally so because the monsters ended up being primordial beasts that fed on the radiation of a young Earth. As their food diminished over time, these kaiju were forced to dig deeper into the earth to search for it (and of course most of them died off).

I also think that there are certain rules that all would-be kaiju creators should obey. 1) They must have some kind of unique super power that is used sparingly but is pretty kick ass when employed. 2) They must be really difficult to kill. 3) They must be terrifying. 4) They have to destroy at least one human city.

With this in mind, I think I need to figure out if my kaiju is going to come from a different dimension, from outer space, or from Earth.

Anyway, enough of my musings. If you can't tell, I loved Godzilla (psst...he does have atomic breath). You would be wise to go and see it if you are a fan of huge monsters destroying cities. Have a great weekend.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Dear H.R. Giger, may you find the peace in death that eluded you in life

To say H.R. Giger had his demons is an understatement. The man's life was fraught with troubles. He had a girlfriend commit suicide, a well-known rivalry with friend and fellow artist Salvadore Dalí, and had a mind filled with so many horrific images that I must admit, as much as I love staring at them I would not want to spend a minute in any one were they to become a reality. I think he was as brilliant as he was disturbing, and I think the world is somehow diminished now that he's gone. And it's important when viewing his art to try and see it through the lens of his own eye: Giger wasn't painting fantasy but showing us the modern world as he saw it. Disturbing right? Take a look at this image.
The creator of the Xenomorph (and the mythology that surrounded it) from the original Alien and Prometheus movies died as a result of injuries suffered when he fell down the stairs at his home. He was 74. My dad often tells me that "falls take out most old people." Ridley Scott and Giger had meltdowns that became legendary on the set of Alien, as the artist had a vision that didn't quite match up with the famed director's own and this led to much fighting and bickering and for Giger being labeled "Impossible to work with." Giger's work both graced and inspired aspects of Species, Poltergeist 2, Alejandro Jodorwsky's Dune, and Batman Forever (they should have used his Batmobile design).
By all accounts, he was a quiet and subdued individual. I'd love to take a stroll in his Swiss gallery some day. I think that his art will go on to escalate in price now that he's dead and become prized among collectors in the future (even moreso than it is now). When I watch Alien and Prometheus and see the derelict spacecraft, it makes me think that what I'm looking at is something so utterly inconceivable in a human mind that it has to come from another world. I don't ever get that watching Star Trek or Star Wars. There are traces of humanity in nearly all science fiction designs. Not so with Giger. He was one of a kind, able to scare the bejeezus out of me, and was able to tap into visceral, instinctual fears that was the stuff of nightmares.

Friday, May 9, 2014

Technology is hard to define and sometimes a little frightening

I don't even know what technology is anymore, and that's weird given that my career is being a Technical Support Specialist. I guess I should clarify my statement. I know an iPad is technology. I also know that a computer is technology. But I failed to recognize Tesla as a technology company. I thought it was a car company. I have been corrected on this though. Tesla is a "tech" stock and not an "auto" stock like Ford or GM. Who knew?
Tesla Model S cockpit. It's not a car. It's technology.
Then their's Under Armour. Under Armour is not an apparel stock like Nike, even though Nike is the one it gets compared to most often. Nope, Under Armor is also a "technology" stock.

So I guess I shouldn't be confused about biological technology either. I read in Nature (the international weekly journal of science) about a semi-synthetic organism with an expanded genetic alphabet. If you're confused, here's a quote from the article that you can locate HERE:

"Organisms are defined by the information encoded in their genomes, and since the origin of life this information has been encoded using a two-base-pair genetic alphabet (A–T and G–C). In vitro, the alphabet has been expanded to include several unnatural base pairs (UBPs). We have developed a class of UBPs formed between nucleotides bearing hydrophobic nucleobases, exemplified by the pair formed between d5SICS and dNaM (d5SICS–dNaM), which is efficiently PCR-amplified and transcribed in vitro, and whose unique mechanism of replication has been characterized. However, expansion of an organism’s genetic alphabet presents new and unprecedented challenges: the unnatural nucleoside triphosphates must be available inside the cell; endogenous polymerases must be able to use the unnatural triphosphates to faithfully replicate DNA containing the UBP within the complex cellular milieu; and finally, the UBP must be stable in the presence of pathways that maintain the integrity of DNA."

To make a long story short, scientists have taken a plasmid and given it three base pairs. In nature, there are only two base pairs made of adenine (A), thymine (T), cytosine (C) and guanine (G). Let me make this clear: everything in the world...the entire "tree of life" that Neil deGrasse Tyson talks about on Cosmos...is born out of information encoded on differing arrangements of those "building block" bases. And science has just introduced two "new" bases and made pairs with them.


This, ladies and gentlemen, is technology. I seriously feel like quoting Steve Jobs right now. I know, I know, I've been on a Steve Jobs tear lately but the man had so many good things to say. So indulge me. Here's the quote: "Older people sit down and ask, 'What is it?" but the boy asks, 'What can I do with it?"

I feel like an old man here because not only am I asking "what is it?" but I'm a little afraid of the answer. And there's no part of me that wants to ask, "What can I do with it?" These third base pairs don't have any information on them. They are a blank slate waiting for scientists to encode whatever they would like to encode on them. Sure, scientists claim that by expanding the genetic alphabet, more data can lead to the development of new drugs, diagnostic tools, vaccines, and nanomaterials. And science fiction is replete with examples of fictional characters making claims like this. But from reading science fiction, we also know that something like this could also lead to weapons. Seriously, it's literally a tired old trope to have the military show up in some scientific lab and pose the question, "How can this be weaponized?"

I am reminded of J. Robert Oppenheimer, American physicist and man who is known as the father of the atomic bomb. Oppenheimer speaking in a 1965 television broadcast about the moments following the Trinity atomic bomb test said, "We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried. Most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture, the Bhagavad-Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the Prince that he should do his duty, and, to impress him, takes on his multi-armed form and says, 'Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.' I suppose we all thought that, one way or another." You should watch this video because you can feel that he's not exactly happy about this. That's probably because he knew what he'd just done: ended the lives of hundreds of thousands of people.
When the United States dropped "Little Boy" on Hiroshima on the morning of August 6th, 1945, the Japanese had no idea what had happened. All communication with that city just ended. The fate of Hiroshima was a complete mystery until they had someone fly over there in an airplane to look out a window and tell them what they saw. Remember Dr. Ian Malcolm in Jurassic Park? "Yeah. Yeah, but your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could that they didn't stop to think if they should."

In an article on io9 about this invention, author George Dvorsky said that the unnatural DNA has a built-in safety mechanism; the modified plasmid can only survive if it's fed artificial nucleotides required to replicate the DNA. My skepticism rears its ugly head in this gif:
I admit that my knowledge of genetics is puny. But some kinds of technology scare me because I don't understand them. That (and to be honest) there's a part of me that's learned to distrust humanity in general. Best intentions often go awry, and the world does not have a shortage of psychopaths the last time I checked.
The Deacon alien from "Prometheus", a biologically engineered weapon.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

I've overcome the insecurity of non-conformity and found myself as a writer. How about you?

One of my favorite things to do is to read The New Yorker. In a recent exchange with fellow author Pat Dilloway, we discussed how slow I am at writing. Inevitably, unflattering comparisons to the worst traits of famous authors came up. Think of the exchange as similar to one where Cliven Bundy, the Nevada Rancher with his mooching welfare cows, is being compared to America's "Founding Fathers" in mockery and realizing that the things Bundy DOES HAVE in common with them are the things for which we are ashamed (slavery). Culling my memory of New Yorker articles, I came across this one: a profile written in 2011 that described the nutty passion of George R.R. martin's fans. They mock him on web forums for not writing faster, they keep track of every word to the point that GRRM has become paranoid over mistakes, and inevitably they all say he'll be dead before he finishes.
"My fans point them out to me," George said to the magazine. "I have a horse that changes sex between books. He was a mare in one book and a stallion in the next, or something like that. People are analyzing every goddamn line in these books, and if I make a mistake they're going to nail me on it."

I think the phenomenon that's happening to George is unfortunate despite the fact that I'm one of the people who wants George R.R. Martin to write faster. And here's why: as writers we have to know (or at least recognize) that our profession is filled with the zombied remains of aspirants who shamble about with rejection letters pinned to their foreheads. But as readers, many of us can tell when an author didn't enjoy writing something. It infuses the pages of a book the same as a wrong ingredient makes a soup taste funny. Take The Hunger Games as an example. The writer clearly was forced to include the romance, and it shows because the romance doesn't feel right. To state this in a simpler way, I'm talking about having passion when you write and in the absence of it, I'm condoning the absence of writing anything. My idea is a rejection of the one that insists you must compose a thousand words a day, or even raising a "metaphoric" middle finger to anyone that insists "schedule-keeping" is the only "true" sign of a serious author (implicating by the inclusion of the word "serious" that by not doing so you are just a hobbyist).

I guess that makes me a black sheep in the meadow. But here's the thing: I've learned not to care.

I keep no illusions that the stuff I write is not great literature. It rests firmly in corners of the internet where certain people googling naughty pictures and naughty stories might stumble across it. Gary Shteyngart who reviews books for the New York Times will never blurb any of my novels. Marion Ettlinger will never photograph me for a book jacket. I will never have a cover designed by Hugo Award Winning science fiction artist Michael Whelan. I've had my share of critics who throw my "free" work up there with what they consider "great" and in the comparison find them lacking. Whatever. I write novels meant to entertain me and I just happen to publish them. So people that think like me are going to be entertained. People that don't think like me will probably be offended and leave a scolding review behind. Part of me blames the MFA's for this.

Writing as a profession is awash with MFA snobs. Yet, I also sympathize with the tired old English professor. They are either called on the carpet for being too elite or for allowing students who can't write a complete sentence to graduate. It's a tough job, but the MFA programs should be used to criticism. So I'm going to offer up mine. What I'm saying about them is deserving because they head the dreaded "writing workshop." Here's what I think of writing workshops: they are there for participants to have their work publicly flogged, and I guess someone at some point decided this is a good thing and sold it to all the rest of us. "Stilted dialogue, flat characters, muscular prose" and any number of other criticisms come pouring out shortly before your pages are offered to a goat to eat.

Then there's the literary agents. To be clear, I don't have one, but I know about them. I'm also not disparaging any of my fellow writers who have agents. You deserve your success, so don't take what I say personally. What I know of them is just the impression that I've been left with in dealing with them. In person, they are fast talkers usually speaking before a crowd as a special guest. They all say the same thing: writers need a distinctive voice, stuff needs to happen, plot is key, this is in and the other is out, etc. Far be it for them to speak with the legendary Steve Jobs who said, "You can't just ask customers what they want and then try to give that to them. By the time you get it built, they'll want something new." I love that quote. And just so you know, I quote Steve Jobs here because he was a titan of business, and not thinking that writing is a business is a lie.

But here's the point of my entire post: each writer enters the craft with a strength. For some it is humor, for others it is world-building, and for yet another crowd it might be beautiful sentences. I know I find my strength in writing when I want to write, when I have passion for writing, and when I have something to say. This turtle moves at his own pace, and I have the luxury of not having fame. Yes, you heard me right. I'm not famous at all, and I think this in many ways is a fantastic benefit. The few hundred people that have read my stuff are not breathing down my neck and making fun of me online for being slow because I like to sit on the couch and watch tv and sleep more than eight hours a night. I've overcome the insecurity of non-conformity and found myself as a writer. How about you?

To conform or not to conform? Either way, I look forward to reading your comments.

***** 

This post is part of the Insecure Writer's Support Group started by Alex J. Cavanaugh.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Godzilla should be watched in nothing but IMAX

I just saw this clip from the movie, and seriously, anyone thinking of watching this on a non-IMAX screen is not a fan. Two huge monsters and Ken Wattanabe (who has the ability to make anything sound interesting) is just too epic. Have a fine Cinco de Mayo.

Friday, May 2, 2014

The world has seen its first trillion dollar idea

We live in a  unique era in that we've probably seen the first "trillion dollar" idea. And it really boggles my mind. I'm referring (of course) to Apple's iPhone. Just to put this in perspective, a "billion" dollar idea is a rarity. A very select few (handful) of individuals get "billion" dollar ideas. The founders of Twitter, Square, Uber, and Whatsapp had billion dollar ideas. For you writers out there, J.K. Rowling had a "billion" dollar idea. So how rare of a sighting is a billion dollar idea anyway? Is it a unicorn? Pretty much.

Anyone fortunate enough to get one of these ideas should thank their lucky stars that they had the "genius" and inspiration to execute it. I say (tongue in cheek) that this is true UNLESS you're republican. In that case, you should just fall back on the hubris that comes oh-so-naturally and proclaim to the world, "I came up with this idea and executed it and you can too. You just need to stop taking government welfare and pull yourself up by your bootstraps."

And let's not even concern ourselves with million dollar ideas. Those are aired on every episode of "Shark Tank," although to be fair...a lot are shot down by the sharks (and justly so). As an aside, I think everyone should watch Shark Tank, doubly true if you're someone that thinks "I'm clever and I have an idea worth millions." Chances are, you're not as clever as you think, and you have no idea what a good idea even looks like. Here's your "I'm doomed to the middle class" card. Now settle in to being mediocre like the rest of us.

Now, just to be clear, the intent of my post is not to metaphysically defecate on too many republicans out there who live and die by the mantra: "the reason you are poor is because you're lazy!" Rather, I want to talk about what Apple has done that other companies can simply not do at this time. Yes, I'm going to talk about "the impossible" and how one company does it every single quarter. Even more astonishing is the fact that "doing the impossible" now garners "yawns" from people who don't recognize it for being mind-blowing and extraordinary at the same time.

Last week, Apple reported earnings for the first quarter of 2014. In just three months (12 weeks) they sold enough of their products to bring in $47 billion in profits. This not only blew away Wall Street expectations that believed the tech company would produce only a meager $42 billion, but reaffirmed their position as the most profitable company in the world.

If you're a Google fan boy, then here's a comparison for you: Google reported earnings of $3 billion for the same time period. They dominate the search landscape and experienced revenue growth of 19%! Everyone that has been online is reading about Google buying up other companies, continuing to innovate, and their employees get some of the best perks in the world. All of this is because Google is flush with cash. Yet they make almost 14X less than Apple does for the same time period. They are a minnow compared to a whale shark. How's that for perspective?

To say I'm in awe of Apple is an understatement. My jaw hangs open because it's inconceivable to me that someone could have an idea worth $1,000,000,000,000. Literally, fifteen "ideas" like the iPhone would entirely pay off our national debt. Making $200 billion a year on their products, it only took Apple five years to hit the $1 trillion mark. Sure, they've spent a lot too which leaves their cash hoard in the bank at a mere $200 billion that they can use to invest in whatever they want to invest.

Here's what Apple did in their earnings call last week (summarizing Tim Cook, the Apple CEO's, words): 1) A stock split of 7 shares for every 1 share in existence effective in June, 2) an increase to their dividend of 8%, and 3) a stock buyback increase from $60 billion a year to $90 billion a year. Wow! Most companies are lucky to be able to afford to buy back $1 billion of their stock. Apple's numbers are just plain ridiculousness. To misquote Weezer from Steel Magnolias, "Apple has more money than God."

It's these kinds of things that get my tongue wagging. In particular, the 7 to 1 stock split is curious. Why? I think it's to lower the stock price which is now at roughly $600 a share to around $70 a share which would make it fit very nicely into the Dow Jones, which is a very snooty Index (and the oldest) and only has 30 stocks in it. That's 30 companies that are cherry-picked for their power and influence in the American economy. Lots of people think that it's a barometer of how well our country is doing. If the Dow sinks, then the economy is sinking too (or at least that's the idea). But if Apple is invited into the Dow Jones, what stock gets the boot? Perhaps the cue was in (again) Tim Cook's words in his conference call when he (more or less) said, "I'd like to welcome Microsoft to the app store. We like it when companies take an opportunity to explore technology." In other words, the jab at Microsoft was more than obvious.

A lot of people have given CEO Tim Cook grief by accusing him of being "boring" and implicating that "boring" is the death of all tech companies. Sure, he isn't another Steve Jobs but there will never be a replacement for Steve. And when it comes to trillion dollar ideas, I think one comes along (if ever) once a century from this point forward. Seriously. Expecting a person, group, or even company with limitless money to squirt out another trillion dollar idea is just stupid. Be appreciative that you live in a time when you actually saw a trillion idea birthed into the world. It's probably as rare as seeing Haley's comet with the naked eye. Most of us will ever recall but one in our entire life. And that's just how I see it.

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