While the recent Star Wars movies don’t do much for me, the franchise’s spin-off games really get my geek on. The latest source of time suck has been Knights of the Old Republic (KotOR). (I know it’s been out forever. I usually only buy “previously played” games, which means I’m perpetually behind the times.)

I’m a geek, but I’m not quite geek enough to know anything about the major PC game developers. Consequently, seeing a particular logo on a game in the store doesn’t have any predictive value for me. But I’m getting the sense that Bioware, developer of KotOR and the delightful Baldur’s Gate (BG) series of games, knows what I like.

KotOR has a lot in common with BG. Both are role-playing games, and both give you a fair amount of leeway in just how your character will turn out. When I start these games, I’m always intrigued by the prospect of crossing over, morality wise. Of course, I invariably wind up with a player character who is a total cosmic brown-noser. Virtuous behavior is the monkey on my back, and in KotOR, I’ve got so many light-side points that my companions are forced to wear sunglasses. It’s nauseating, but I can’t help myself. I’m overwhelmed by goody-goody impulses, at least in a gaming context.

Speaking of those companions, it’s very weird hearing one of them voiced by someone who sounds exactly like Kin Shriner. (I was amazed to find out it wasn’t him.) It causes some nerd confluence in my brain, as all of my geekdoms – soap operas, super-heroes, and gaming – crash together. Every time this KotOR character opens his mouth, I wonder how Scott Baldwin from General Hospital wound up in a galaxy far, far away. (The same thing happens whenever Green Arrow shows up on Justice League Unlimited. I wonder why he’s fighting crime instead of plying Susan Moore with booze and trying to trick her out of her bastard son’s Quartermaine inheritance.) I find the KotOR character to be kind of a tool, so it’s actually a useful distraction.

But generally the voice work is great, especially by Jennifer Hale as prissy Jedi Bastilla. Trust me when I say you’ve probably heard her before. Don’t believe me? Check out her resume.

Somehow, despite every indication being that I’d love it, I’ve managed to resist trying City of Heroes. There’s something about on-line gaming that just seems like an admission of defeat to me. I already spend too much time gaming. I already spend too much time on-line. It would be like baking crack into pizza crust. I’ll just wait for the sequel to Freedom Force. (Come on! It’s the gaming equivalent of a JLA/JSA crossover. You expect me to resist that?)

DC has launched its manga line, CMX, with three titles. I passed on From Eroica with Love (mostly due to the truly unsettling design of the title character) and Madara (as Johanna said, it sounds too much like a video game), but I’m a sucker for shojo and snapped up a copy of Land of the Blindfolded, by Tsukuba Sakura.

It’s a tricky volume to review. Just over half of the content is from the title series. There are also two “bonus” stand-alone stories from Sakura. The Land of the Blindfolded material is perfectly competent stuff, if a bit under-realized. The bonus stories, however, are marvelous and give you a much better sense of Sakura’s gifts as a storyteller.

Land of the Blindfolded has an elegant and promising premise. Outgoing everygirl Otusaka Kanade can get glimpses of a person’s future when she makes physical contact. Naitou Arou, almost too good to be true but a bit withdrawn, can see a person’s past under the same circumstances. Kanade sees her gifts as a way to help people avoid misfortune. Arou fears Kanade will cause more trouble than she averts when she meddles. They’re both a bit right and a bit wrong in the way they view things, and the first two chapters show them reaching common ground. Beyond their shared abilities, Kanade and Arou also seem to be crushing on each other a bit.

Their dynamic gets a shift in the third chapter with the introduction of Namiki Masahiro, who shares Kanade’s ability to see the future. He doesn’t share her conscience, however, and seems more than happy to watch hapless people step in front of speeding cars. (That would take him from callow to sociopathic, in my opinion.) Kanade, the optimist, refuses to believe Masahiro would let anyone come to harm if he could prevent it. Arou knows better. Masahiro actually rather enjoys taunting future-blind Arou with dire predictions about classmates, including Kanade.

The characters are all distinct, and it’s nice to see their individual philosophies evolve with experience (even Masahiro). It’s also nice to see the girl pursued by two boys, as opposed to a more traditional role as a competitor for a boy’s affection. Unfortunately, the various elements of the story – the mysticism, the romance, the comedy — don’t mesh as well as they should. The pacing of the stories has an odd rhythm, stopping cold when it should be moving forward or racing along to the expense of smaller, more edifying moments.

Those flaws become more evident (or maybe more disappointing) when you see Sakura’s tremendous facility for thoughtful human comedy on display in the bonus stories, “After the Festival” and “The Mistaken Man.” Each story takes a charming and generous view of human foibles, the small reversals that make life interesting, and how an open heart can turn misunderstanding into good fortune.

“After the Festival” is both spectacularly romantic and wonderfully ordinary. Two students meet on a school sports day. Each steps out of traditional comfort zones to try something new, and they’re rewarded with a promising change in their lives. I would love to list all the wonderful aspects of this story, but I can’t without spoiling the effect of reading it. (Even the art is better; there’s a truly amazing sequence towards the end that made me gasp… or maybe swoon.)

“The Mistaken Man” features two friends, one chronically absent-minded, the other an amusing lothario. They come into conflict when they meet a mysterious and beautiful fellow student, and they have to overcome misunderstandings and self-interest as the story progresses. (Again, to give too much detail would be to spoil the story’s effect.)

So where does this leave me? Sakura is obviously a gifted storyteller, as evidenced by the two stand-alone stories. She can handle themes and character types central to the ongoing story with ease and inventiveness, but she hasn’t yet done so. At the same time, if Land of the Blindfolded can achieve (or approach) the level of craft as “After the Festival,” it will be something really special. And the only way for me to find that out is to buy the second volume.

Tease.

We went up to see the Carnegie International exhibition up in Pittsburgh today. Some of it is really spectacular, but most of it justifies every joke ever made about modern art. Even worse was the collection guide. I’m used to museum literature that tells you about the artist’s intent, but this was more like an instruction of how precisely one should react to each individual piece. (Beyond the obvious, “What the hell?”) Annoying.

Still, it’s nice to be a culture vulture sometimes. And, who knew there was a comic store right around the corner from the Carnegie? Better still, I finally managed to track down all three issues of Street Angel, which makes me the very last comics blogger in the world to read them. With that feather in my cap, I shall now move on to my next challenge: being the very last comics blogger in the world to read Scott Pilgrim.

It’s Matt’s birthday. I wonder what Dormammu got him? Maybe he pulled some inter-dimensional strings on the latest issue of TCJ.

Television Without Pity has started covering Desperate Housewives. Huzzah! And it’s not even my birthday!

Because Graeme’s on vacation, and because I’m a masochist, I wondered, “What does the John Byrne Forum think of the latest plot development in Green Arrow?” More to the point, what does “the Chief” himself think?

Well, there’s the “real time” concern:

“Suppose Speedy takes three years, “real time”, to die. Currently, in DOOM PATROL, I have Nudge, who is 15 years old. Would I be compelled to have her age to 18 while the Speedy story unfolds in another title, unconnected to DP?”

And the “appropriate content” concern:

“…these kinds of afflictions have no place in “universes” populated by super beings such as we see at Marvel or DC. There is no reason for anyone to ever die of cancer, for instance, since Reed Richards came up with three separate cures while seeking a solution to Captain Marvel’s problem. In a world where magic exists, Barbara Gordon should not have spent two seconds in that wheelchair, let alone two decades. HIV should simply not exist. Now — it would be “unrealistic” to say that, in fact, it doesn’t exist. This is one of the mistakes many writers and editors make, chosing to treat the comicbook “universes” as if they are “parallel dimensions” to our own, and thus removing a degree of identification for the readers.”

The “fan expectations” concern:

“Give someone a mortal disease and a loud segment of fandom will demand that person die. And they will demand it over, and over, and over, and over. . . Until the person dies. Then they will say the death was a sales gimmick and utterly unnecessary.”

The “questionable role model” concern:

“It is certainly true that we have an unfortunate habit of making “heroes” out of people who fell from grace — alcoholism, drug abuse, prostitution, white collar crime — and “fought their way back” rather than those who never fell in the first place. I am often disturbed by the latest sports/movie/TV personality being trotted out as a “good example” because s/he has kicked some habit or other. The unavoidable message would seem to be “screw up your life as much as you want, kids, you can always come back from it!””

The “is Christopher Reeve a ‘hero'” concern:

“I have noticed that people have begun referring to Christopher Reeve as a “hero”. I do not wish to take away one iota of the courage he must have needed not to wake up screaming every single day, but the hard truth is there was nothing “heroic” in what happened to him, or how he dealt with it. In fact, as far as how he dealt with it, he didn’t even have a choice. We could imagine he spent every hour of every day (when not in front of the cameras) begging family members to simply kill him and get it over with — but none of them did, so he had no choice but to deal with each day as it came.* Heroism, I believe, involves choice. *Not in any way suggesting this is what was happening, just in case there are those who are paralyzed from the neck up who might be reading these words. . . “

And, naturally, the “are we safer” concern:

“If you feel safer today than you did before September 11th, you are kidding yourself. And the President is kidding himself if he feels the same way. Because there is just as much possibility, right now, that someone out there is planning something that has never been done before. And we won’t know what it is until it happens, precisely because it is something that has never been done before. “

I couldn’t quite bring myself to quote any of the other posters’ comments, because I’m about to curl up in a fetal position in the corner.

Spoilers. Such spoilers.

I’m pretty sure the ending of JSA #66 is supposed to be uplifting. The nuclear family is reunited, and Dad has finally learned not to neglect his pitiful wife and needy son.

I’m also pretty sure it’s not uplifting at all, seeing as the issue is basically about three people named Hourman jockeying to commit suicide.

Hourman I wants to die because he’s pretty much dead already. He got plucked out of the time stream years ago right before he could be murdered by Extant. Now, he wants to go back and complete that moment because his reprieve is basically over, he doesn’t want to see his son throw his life away, and he doesn’t want to screw up the time stream.

Hourman II, the son of Hourman I, wants to die in his father’s place so his elderly father can spend time with Mrs. Hourman I, atoning for years of habitual neglect. This is possibly the first Reverse Oedipal Complex I’ve seen in comics, and I’m not surprised to find that it’s creepy in either direction. And what I wouldn’t pay to see the conversation that would have followed with Mrs. Hourman I if Hourman II got his way.

Hourman I: “Honey, I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is, the son you carried for nine months and saw through drug addiction and despair has killed himself. The good news is, I’m back to give you all the sweet, sweet loving I withheld during all the years of our marriage. Hot yet?”

Hourman III wants to die so Hourman I and Hourman II don’t have to, because they’re human and Hourman III isn’t. Hourman III is a futuristic android with feelings and interests, he’s formed bonds, acted bravely, and adapted to difficult circumstances, so I’m not quite sure what the distinction is, but he seems to feel strongly that he’s somehow inferior to the other two.

Hourman III wins, so Hourmen I and II get to go home to Mrs. Hourman I. I wonder about Mrs. Hourman I. Her awful husband has been dead for ages, and she seems to have made no effort to move on with her life. Of course, apparently she never cultivated any interests of her own during her empty marriage except for sobbing and low self-esteem, so this probably isn’t too much of a stretch. She also doesn’t seem to worry much when her son vanishes for weeks at a time. Now, seeing as the son is both a recovering drug addict and a super-hero, unexplained absences might be reasonable cause for concern. Apparently not.

This just doesn’t fall into any definition of “uplifting” I recognize. Maybe next issue will be better.

Oh, wait. It’s the autopsy. Never mind.

Like Tom the Dog, I over-purchased by a mile yesterday. Then I get home and hear the message that my copy of the manga book arrived at Books-a-Million. So, it’s off to the plasma bank.

I’m not quite sure what I think of Secret War #3. Delays might have made it lose some momentum, but I don’t think a quarterly publication schedule is a recipe for breathless narrative in the first place. The painted art is attractive, but something about that approach always seems to put a burden on the subject matter (entirely in my own head, I admit). When I see painted art, I always feel like the story has to be Important. Secret Wars has a fairly interesting premise, but I don’t know how much weight it can hold.

On to some spoiler-y stuff: It was a very odd sensation for the chapter to end at what felt like the halfway point of the comic. “That’s it?” I wondered. The text piece wasn’t much of a compensation, as it didn’t illuminate anything that hadn’t been covered in the story. (I’ve liked previous text pieces in this series, though.) In fact, bits of Cap’s phone conversation were identical to things he said under other circumstances to other characters. (I have to say that I don’t think Bendis writes Cap’s dialogue very well. It seems overly formal, and not in an old-fashioned-guy kind of way. More like a spinster-etiquette-instructor kind of way.) I’ll be interested to see how people respond to the possibility that heroes have been brainwashed, given what’s going on over in Identity Crisis. (I’m actually enjoying Bendis’s portrayal of SHIELD as being a bit more shady than I’ve come to expect.)

She-Hulk #8 was my pre-purchase pick of the week, and I enjoyed it a lot, but I’m going to have to give my buy of the week award to Fallen Angel #16. Peter David has a real facility for world-building in this book, revealing interesting and relevant back story, moving ongoing plots and sub-plots forward, and providing telling character moments in every issue. Glad to hear that DC’s give-away scheme gave the book a boost (found via Johanna, who’s done her own bit for the book).

I’ve only read the first chapter, but I like what I see in the inaugural volume of CMX’s Land of the Blindfolded. It has a very Yu Watase feel to it, down to the intermittent notes from the creator. And since I love Yu Watase’s stuff (note to self: write Imadoki! review already), that’s all to the good.

On an unrelated note, Fanboy Rampage is kind of turning into an Escher drawing in Graeme’s absence.

I know a lot of comics are coming out today, but I would be your best friend forever if you made room on your shopping list for She-Hulk #8. Lots of people think it’s a pretty terrific book.

Still not convinced? Take a look at these preview pages. See what you think.

It’s funny. It’s smart. It doesn’t think the best thing you can do with a super-hero is to feature her in stories that make you want to reach for the anti-depressants. And a sudden upsurge in sales would totally confound Marvel’s prevailing editorial philosophy. What more could you ask for?

The second printing of Identity Crisis #1 has sold out before it even hit the stores. Despite it being DC’s tentpole summer moneymaker, writer Brad Meltzer still seems to think of it as the little book that could:

“And thanks to the incredible support of retailers and readers who bought the first printing and were there from the start. They’re the only reason we’re here and the only reason people started talking about it!”

So the scorched-earth promotional campaign had nothing to do with it? The mystifying attention from The New York Times? The Associated Press piece that got picked up everywhere and subsequently treated like it was some outpouring of media attention instead of geek copy editors looking for mildly diverting page fill? The all-IC-all-the-time flurry of follow-up releases that DC keeps dumping on comic news outlets who will publish almost anything? Those had nothing to do with the book’s sales? It was all just plucky, visionary fans sitting around the comic shop, making sure it didn’t get lost in the shuffle?

No. It’s not Arrested Development. It’s not Street Angel. It’s not Saved. It’s not some quirky, indie hit that held on thanks to a discerning, activist audience. It’s The Day After Tomorrow. It’s American Idol. It’s The Da Vinci Code. It’s the big, dumb blockbuster.

Accept it. Embrace it. Because to do otherwise makes you look rather foolish.

Both Ian Brill and the good folks at Peiratikos posted reminders that today is the anniversary of the death of Matthew Shepard, who was murdered for being homosexual.

I’ve had the good fortune of hearing his mother, Judy Shepard, speak here on campus. If you ever get the opportunity, please go listen to what she has to say. Her lecture coincided with a production of The Laramie Project by the theatre program. I haven’t seen HBO’s version, but the play itself is amazing.