All stones created equal

This week on a very special episode of a very special Modern Culture Shock: the racism issue in Resident Evil 5.

Now, first off, I promise that this will be the last time this game is discussed in this column. It came out last week and as long as there are no more updates like the current DLC that adds a versus mode, then there will be no need to mention it. I will say, however, that it is imperative that you play this game in co-op mode, perhaps with a friend or a family member. If those people are unavailable, then you can use Xbox LIVE to enlist help. If, God forbid, you do not have Xbox LIVE, grab a random person off the street or one of those maintenance people if you live in an apartment complex. Just find someone. This is a game designed, like nuptial bliss, to be savored by two human beings. Anything less is a travesty.

In that spirit of cooperation, we pushed forward with the issue at hand. Ever since the first trailer, which had caucasian protagonist Chris Redfield dashing through African villages and gunning down people of a noticeably darker skin pigment, there have been cries of protest. These cries generally came from outside sources, people who had stumbled across the trailer like some well-hidden macabre treasure in an Indian Jones-style tomb. Series fans were a little more concerned with why Chris now looked like a linebacker and I don’t mean that in the sense that he got a little buff. I mean, the man looks exactly like a linebacker, okay? I’m talking arms and everything. In the game, he tries to tackle people and a boulder. Yes, you read that right; he tackles a big rock. And then he punches it.

But the mistreatment of stones and their brethren isn’t the issue here. I didn’t mention the racism issue in previous articles because I wanted to save judgment, though I was a bit confused as to why the previous Resident Evil outing, set in a backwater village in Spain, had not drawn similar flack. Having played through the game, I can confidently say that Resident Evil 5 is exactly as racist as Black Hawk Down or the Matrix or any Hollywood movie where a group of Arabic or dark-skinned terrorists take hold of a weapon which threatens the world, because the game is all of these movies rolled into one and peppered with zombies. If anything, you could argue that the game has “post-colonial” themes in regards to a) who infects the Africans and b) how they mistreated the natives and drove them off their land to first acquire the virus. Oh yeah, spoilers.

Yet, in some ways, Resident Evil 5 shouldn’t require defending, and I think that’s the real problem. When I was a kid, one of my favorite shows on Nick at Nite was All in the Family, a sitcom about a prejudiced patriarch, the endearing Archie Bunker, and his conflicts with liberal son-in-law, Michael Stivic – also known as “meathead”. The great thing about this show was that it took both Archie and Michael to task. Archie ate crow over his bigotry and Michael ate crow over his idealism and excessive sensitivity, which prevented him from every really connecting with the people whose rights he championed. This is a show that, thanks to political correctness and the Michael Stivics of the world, could never be made today because it handled religious, political, and social issues in a way that would strip the paint off your walls. But it always did it with heart and honesty.

Of course, Resident Evil 5 is no All in the Family. It’s a vapid action blockbuster in video game format, through and through. But I guess what I’m saying is that while those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, we can choose our battles better than this. After all, if we’re always on the lookout for racism or sexism or whateverism, if we’re always censoring ourselves in the presence of others, if the first thought that comes to our mind is what we shouldn’t say, then we haven’t accomplished anything because the specter of whateverism lingers on and hinders relationships in the present. And that makes us all meatheads.

When I was nine years old, M.Bison drove me to tears.

In the distant future of the year 20XX, Blue Bomber fans everywhere have cause for joy and jubilation. Megaman 9 is now available on Xbox Live Arcade, WiiWare, and Playstation Network. Featuring classic 8-bit graphics, music, and sound effects, the nostalgia alone will certainly warm the hearts of many Nintendo veterans, but don’t be surprised when some equally old and unpleasant feelings rise to the surface.

You see, it’s been twelve years since the last Megaman game. Oh sure, there’s been Megaman Legends, Megaman X, Megaman Battle Network, Megaman Starforce, Megaman Zero and Megaman ZX, but there hasn’t been an original Megaman game in a long time. Do you know what’s happened in those twelve years? Video games got easier. A lot easier. Simply put, most video games today do not demand the pure dedication and perfection that the classics of the NES and SNES era asked of us.

Take the original Super Mario Brothers, for instance. As a child, I can distinctly remember beating this game and yet, as a college student, I find this to be unbelievable. How could any child accomplish such an insurmountable task?

First off, everything in the game killed you in one hit unless you had a fire flower or a mushroom. No regenerating shield. No health packs. If you fell into a hole, you died outright. You started the game with only three lives. That’s it. If you died three times, you were done unless, of course, you managed to find some 1-ups. For the unaware, 1-ups are those green mushrooms you see on everyone’s Oh-so-retro Hot Topic hoodies.

Now, the game had eight worlds with four levels for each world. In the original version there was no save feature, so if you were going to beat the game then you had to do it in one sitting, but you couldn’t. No, assuming you didn’t wuss out and use the secret warps to skip ahead, you were destined to die again, and again, and again until you either a) became a master of twitch response or b) memorized all the levels. Spoiler: You had to do both. Many nights simply ended in defeat.

Halo 3’s well documented ability to drive the purest of souls to obscenity does not begin to touch the likes of Mario and Megaman. Games like this taught children across the world the true meaning of futility. Despite our best efforts, despite our unyielding concentration, we would fail time and time again. Our concentration would turn to frustration, our frustration to rage, and our rage to tears of resignation. Mr. Rogers and Barney told us we could do anything, but Mario and Megaman were there to slap us in the face and bring life back into perspective.

Megaman 9 is that old age of gaming reborn. It will punish you. You’ll jump over a pit only to have a little grey bot leap out and hit you, forcing you to fall to instant death. You’ll fight a series of giant robot elephants that roll large metal balls at you while you have to dodge more instant death pits. These floppy eared jerks will kill you, repeatedly. You will have to memorize each level perfectly. You will have to make precision jumps. You will suffer. You will realize that your Halo skills, your Ninja Gaiden skills, and your ability to beat Devil May Cry 3 on Dante Must Die mode means nothing in the face of Dr. Wily and his eight Robot Masters and, if you are strong enough, you will rise victorious.

Personally, I’d rather just download Cave Story for PC or WiiWare and enjoy a significantly less frustrating robot themed shoot-em-up. I mean, sure, Megaman 9 has evil elephants but Cave Story has a goofy evil minion named Balrog who is either a suitcase, a lunchbox, or a toaster. It’s kind of hard to tell.

Reboot!

You know, back when I was a kid (when all we had was Super Nintendo, VHS and CDs, and we had to skate up hill both ways on our Xtreme neon green rollerblades) the word reboot was nothing more than the title to a cheesy computer animated TV show that debuted on Saturday mornings in 1994. The 2000’s, however, have changed all that and the recently released Friday the 13th marks yet another entry in a long line of series reboots, where audiences are treated to a re-imagining of familiar TV shows and films. If you’ve already noticed this trend and gotten tired of it: well too bad, because it isn’t stopping any time soon. If you haven’t noticed it, then you lost your eyesight years ago which makes me wonder how you are reading this column right now.

You see, somewhere along the way, the people who make all the TV shows and movies realized the reboots save everyone a lot of work. I mean, why bother to come up with a new concept when you can just use an old one and spruce up the graphics, make the dialogue hipper, and the haircuts more modern. Sometimes these re-imaginings are even met with a great deal of commercial and critical success because they turn out quite nice. The Dark Knight, anyone? Casino Royale? Battlestar Galactica?

And hey, there’s no denying that reboots are a lot of fun. It’s no secret that the older a movie is, the more off-putting the cheesy special effects become. Not everything can be as well done as classic Star Wars. Yet, at the same time, I can’t help but feel like something is being lost in the translation. Maybe it’s the fact that they cram Shia Labeouf into every frakkin’ movie they can.

On the film front, we’ve had disconcerting efforts like The Day the Earth Stood Still, The Pink Panther, and Planet of the Apes. Released in summer of 2001, Planet of the Apes was one of the first and a particularly disappointing reboot thanks to its penchant for cherry-picking various ideas from the original five Planet of the Apes films and an ending which was as confusing as, well, I don’t know. Is there anything in the world more confusing than an ape-version of the Lincoln memorial?

On the TV show front, audiences have had to suffer Bionic Woman, Flash Gordon, and Knight Rider. Each series was soon cancelled after its debut, with the finale of Knight Rider coming out this month. The creators’ mistake here was thinking that people actually watched the original for the talking car and not the paragon of manliness which is The Hasselhoff.

Then there have been the truly dubious reboots, like The Incredible Hulk, a 2008 reboot of the 2003 Hulk film, and Punisher: War Zone, another 2008 reboot this time for the 2004 Punish film. If a film flops, can we at least allow a decade before a reboot? Back in my day, if you made a bad film, you’d just go ahead and make an equally bad or worse sequel. Did Hollywood start allowing mulligans? It seems that way with 20th Century Fox Executive Tom Rothman expressing interest in a reboot for Daredevil.

Worst of all, you have truly confusing films like Superman Returns, which ignored the events of Superman 3 and 4 but acted like a sequel to Superman and Superman 2 while also attempting to act as a series reboot. This could have been really confusing to audiences if the film had been interesting. Thankfully, it was dreadful and dull.

Yet, despite the bad far outweighing the good, the will to reboot carries on with Freddy Kreuger following in the footsteps of Jason and Michael Meyers in 2009. The film Star Trek, directed by J.J. Abrams of Lost and Cloverfield fame, debuts this year as well. So who’s ready for the inevitable Back to the Future remake staring Shia Labeouf? Yeah, me neither.

Insects, Celebrities, and the Past Lives Thereof

I hate spiders. I loathe them with all of my being. I’ll admit, insects in general disturb me, scurrying about in their highly detailed carapaces and segmented exoskeletons, like its okay to be walking around with their insides on the outside, but spiders are a whole different bag. Just watching their eight dagger-like legs dance across a table is enough to send me fleeing, looking for the nearest shoe or spiked mace to wield in my defense.

All that considered, it’s not surprising that the website for the game Deadly Creatures, due out this February on the Wii, initially weirded me out. In the game, the player will assume the roll of a spider or a scorpion and fight lizards, black widows, and snakes. Yep, that’s it.

Visiting the game’s website, I was greeted with all that Flash interface crap companies like to throw around these days. The twist here was that the site was crawling with insects. That itchy feeling started up. I clicked on the video section to see the game in action. It loaded up and I watched as a beetle waddled across a filthy bathroom floor. Slowly, a spider appeared from behind. I felt a slight shiver. The spider followed his prey with the greatest stealth and reared up to strike. I did a check of the ceiling corners in my room, just to be safe.

Suddenly, a scorpion appeared behind the spider. That seemed a little unlikely. How did these three not notice each other before? Before I could raise further objection, the scorpion leapt forward and grabbed the spider, sending them both rolling. He followed this up by pummeling the spider over the head with his pincers. That seemed like a misuse of his natural weapons. Somewhere within the following quick cuts of insectoid mortal combat, I’m pretty sure I saw the scorpion do a suplex , which is strange because I can’t really work out how a scorpion would pull that off. Whatever the logistics, the mood was spoiled. The moment had switched from subtle creepiness to WWF.

In addition to being the flagship for the exciting new genre of bug fighting, the game will feature the vocal talents of both Dennis Hopper and Billy Bob Thornton. It may seem like a lot of big name talent, but it doesn’t surprise me in the least.

As we all know, Dennis Hopper is just a poor man's Anthony Hopkins, but this should not be held against him. It’s not his fault he was named Dennis and fell to the same fate that befalls all people named Dennis, to be an inferior copy of a superior person. For instance, Dennis Quaid is a poor man's Harrison Ford. Dennis Leary and Miller are inferior copies of George Carlin and Bill Hicks.

It should be noted, however, that musicians have a knack for dodging the Dennis bullet. Take Dennis Brain, one of the greatest horn players in history, Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys, or Dennis Coles, better known as Ghostface Killah of the Wu-Tang clan. As is commonly known by scholars and men of intellectual renown, one does not fuck with the Wu-Tang.

Long story shot, they probably wanted Mr. Hopkins. As for Billy Bob, he has such an unsavory visage that he fits right in. If anyone in Hollywood is one day revealed to be a giant talking spider in disguise, Billy Bob will be our man. Alternatively, I would like to suggest that Billy Bob was probably a spider in his past life which explains his well-documented phobia of large silver spoons and antique furniture, which he had to perilously traverse to avoid being killed by French nobles. Antique furniture. Hmm. I feel better about my fears now, don’t you?

How to Run Your Television Network into the Ground

Hey, you know that whole science fiction thing, with the aliens and spaceships? Don’t you just hate how there’s, like, all this technology and stuff and it’s, like, really confusing and nerdy and just, you know, childish? Well, don’t worry because the executives at the Sci Fi channel wholeheartedly agree. Looking to rebrand themselves as a hipper, more accessible network, the Sci Fi channel will soon be following in the footsteps of MTV, TechTv/G4, The History Channel, and Discovery by becoming a pale, desiccated shell of its former self. Viva las networks!

Most famous for Battlestar Galactica and their provocative original movies like Chupacabra, Raptor Island, Anonymous Rex, Flu Bird Horror, and Goats: The Final Reckoning on Bloody Billy Mountain, the Sci Fi channel is going to become the SyFy channel, a more palpable brand that will allow them to shed their old name and image, which was holding them back due to its association with geeks and antisocial adolescent males. Yes, they said that. Here I was, mistakenly under the impression that the only thing hurting their image was Chupacabra, Raptor Island, Anonymous Rex, and Flu Bird Horror. Sadly, I must confess that Goats: The Final Reckoning on Bloody Billy Mountain isn’t a real movie. Yet.


But you know, maybe they’re right. Perhaps the old name is keeping the network from branching out like they did in 2006 when they showed Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and WWE’s ECW. I mean, where else on TV will I possibly be able to watch this kind of fine quality programming? Answer: NBC, TNT, USA Network, Bravo, Hallmark Channel, CourtTV(before it became TruTV), MyNetworkTV, and countless local stations like ABC Washington (WJLA) which shows syndicated episodes of L&O:SVU.

The network plans to put the new name into effect on July 7 when it launches the first wave of its new programming, a series called “Warehouse 13” which Sci Fi channel president David Howe described as a modern day “dramedy” that is a mix between Indian Jones, Moonlighting, and The X-Files. Wait, wouldn’t that just be a television version of Indian Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull?

In addition to this, the channel is hoping to launch a television series that will interact with a Massively Multiplayer Online Game that is affected by events within the show, because MMORPGs are just the kind of thing you want to embrace when you’re trying to get away from asocial nerds.

To be fair though, we can’t come down on the new SyFy Channel too hard (even if writing that out makes me feel like an imbecile) because, as mentioned, they’re just following the beaten path. It was MTV who first decided that music videos and subversive programming like Liquid Television should be replaced with non-stop marathons of The Real World and Next. MTV is so certain that we want these marathons that MTV2 also shows them, despite the fact that the network was originally created to provide non-stop commercial-free music videos and thereby quell complaints about the original MTV.

I can see how the recent end of Battlestar Galactica, one of the few pieces of quality programming on the network, could prompt a mid-life crisis that leads the execs to change the name because this “is how you’d text it” but regardless of what your BFF Jill tells you, there’s a reason we don’t use textspeak outside of our phones (except for those embarrassing moments when we respond to a joke with a verbal “lol” and pray no one heard us).

The key to a better network isn’t alienating your core audience and attempting to appeal to such a broad audience that your product means nothing to no one or alternatively, everything to everyone (which is basically the same thing). A good sci fi channel should be about good sci fi, a good music channel should be about good music, and a good (insert word here) channel should be about good (insert word here).

So if your network is floundering, before you look to hipper marketing for an answer, please ask yourself, “Is spending our money on Goats 2: Bloodier Billier Mountain really the best thing to do?” Answer: Yes, if I get paid royalties.

Thanksgiving: Scourge of the Season

Ah, another year, another Thanksgiving. Could any holiday be greater than family coming together over a delicious and disproportionately large turkey carcass to express gratitude for their collective health and continued existence? Of course not, that’s why all the great Thanksgiving films are about people rushing home to be with their family like, uh, erm, that’s really more of a Christmas movie plot now that I think about it. Well, whatever. We can’t forget all the great Thanksgiving films about learning to value others like, uhm, well, that’s a Christmas movie plot too. Actually, now that I think about it, are there any Thanksgiving flicks?

Hmm, maybe A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving? Garfield’s Thanksgiving? There’s that one episode of Aqua Teen Hunger Force where the Ghost of Christmas Past from the Future shows up as a modified robotic turkey. I guess Christmas just has Thanksgiving beat every which way. To be honest, I know plenty of families where Christmas is just a Thanksgiving meal with free stuff in boxes. Nestled uncomfortably between Halloween and Christmas, it seems Thanksgiving is little more than the awkward and under-loved middle child, the Jan Brady of the holiday season.

It plays out the same way every year: Stores begin selling Halloween themed merchandise in late September and continue to do so right up until the holiday. Does the same happen for Thanksgiving? Not really. Part of the problem is that there isn’t anything to wear or put up like there is for Halloween and Christmas. Perhaps if the holiday was celebrated in giant turkey suits we’d have something, or maybe we could go the Talk like a Pirate day route and make everyone “Gobble Gobble” for a good twenty four hours.

Either way, it doesn’t matter because Christmas starts earlier every year and people leave their decorations up for a small eternity. I know I’ve already heard Christmas tunes during a late night trip to Wal-Mart, a small taste of the grating banality to come as I’ll be forced by shopping centers everywhere to endure every version of Jingle Bells from Frank Sinatra to Gwar.

People talk about the War on Christmas, well what about the War on Thanksgiving? It’s clear that Christmas is the real antagonist here. The forces of the jolly red fat one have marched across the line of demarcation and waged open warfare on the legions of the grateful fowls. Sadly, this may not be a fight that Thanksgiving can win.

Can it be blamed for being a poorly placed holiday? Putting Thanksgiving before Christmas is like sitting a child down the day before his birthday and asking him to express deep appreciation for all the stuff he got for his last birthday. He probably can’t even remember what he got and, if he can, it’s probably broken by now.

Then there’s the whole Pilgrim/Indian issue. To be honest, history class was kind of weird growing up. One week your learning about Manifest Destiny and Andrew Jackson’s open disdain for the Native Americans and the next week half the class was dressed up as them in a cute little play filled with joy and harmony. I mean, come on, you know the kids would rather be reenacting Wounded Knee or Custard’s Last Stand, much to their parents’ delightful horror. It would be fun and historically accurate.

I’ve got it! Here’s my solution: Let’s move Thanksgiving back to spring, right after winter stops. I mean, none of us are farmers so does it really matter when we’re thankful? This way, our thankfulness remains untainted by an impending Christmas and we can be additionally thankful that we are no longer freezing our butts off.

Some of you may cry, “What about the parades?” or “I like Thanksgiving where it is!” Don’t worry, the old Thanksgiving will simply be replaced, giving us an extra holiday. The new Thanksgiving will be referred to as Wanting day, yes, accurately reflecting the true spirit of the Pilgrims and prepping the populace for a season of rampant spending. It’s politically correct and completely marketable! Wait, where are you going? Come back here, don’t be that way. It’s a good idea, really!

Bah, humbug.

The Victims of 2008

That’s it. I can hold my silence no longer. I have stood by ‘til now, but no more. We must rise up and, united in our strength and wits, put an end to the year 2008 before it puts an end to anyone else. We must strike hard and fast for it has stolen Heath Ledger from us before we could witness his manic magnificence in The Dark Knight, it silenced the voice of soul himself, Isaac Hayes, and it even got Tim Russert – signed off forever, may he rest in peace. Even comedians weren’t safe, as it sent Bernie Mac and George Carlin to the big comedy club in the sky. Well, I’m sure Carlin didn’t get in but he didn’t care for the owner of the club anyway. Actually, he didn’t care for life here either, so I guess it evens outs. But September 2 was the last straw. That was the day it took Don LaFontaine from us and he shall not be forgotten.

Don’t recognize the name immediately? Don’t worry, you haven’t forgotten him yet. LaFontaine was the guy who did the voiceovers for every movie trailer you ever watched. He was the guy who could make the most wretched piece of cinema look mind-bogglingly attractive by the sheer force of his voice alone. “In a world,” he’d start with a boom, “where cyborg ninjas have conquered America, only one man stands for hope. Part cop. Part vigilante. Part transvestite. All action. See Eddie Murphy, Rob Schneider and Gilbert Gottfried in High Heels, High Impact. This summer, justice wears a bra. Directed by Uwe Boll.” And then, by some black magic, you’d want to see this film. This man’s voice was the Midas touch, turning cinematic excrement to solid gold. And he’s gone.

I don’t know about you, but I can’t live in a world where this guy doesn’t do the voiceovers for my movies. I can’t even fathom it. Worse yet, 2008 even scribbled out John Alvin, the artist behind such iconic movie posters as Stars War, Blade Runner, and E.T. The plot thickens when you consider that Alvin did his first poster for Mel Brook’s Blazing Saddles, the film which contains the most well known role for the recently deceased Harvey Korman. Yes folks, 2008 even got Hedy Lamarr.

“That’s Hedley!”

Right. We need to get off our butts and put an end to 2008 once and for all. I’d recommend a full out assault, guns blazing, but I think it would be difficult to physically attack, let alone best this nefarious year in armed combat. Or any year for that matter. No, this will require a measure of our cunning. Perhaps time travel is the answer? If so, we need to get our hands on some type of mechanism like the Sands of Time (Prince of Persia), a teleporter (Terminator), or H.G. Wells’ titular Time Machine itself. Assuming we do not age during time travel, we could live forever. Unfortunately, we’d probably get pretty bored. Plus, having no jobs and limited budgets, we would have to exit the time stream often to visit Mickey Dee’s for sustenance. Surely, a fate worse than death.

Okay, I guess time travel isn’t the answer. We could find one of those monoliths from Space Odyssey 2001, but then we’d be subjected to trippy Photoshop filters for at least fifteen minutes before being turned into floating space babies. The author of Space Odyssey, Arthur C. Clarke, could certainly solve this conundrum if our wretched foe had not claimed him as well. Perhaps the fantasy element holds the answer, some ancient rune or artifact that unlocks immortality. Gary Gygax, creator of Dungeons & Dragons, could lend a hand if he hadn’t ran out of HP in March.

I don’t know. Maybe we can’t take down 2008. Maybe it’s up to each of us to do the best he and she can, and fill all these shoes left behind. I just wish I had more than two feet.