Legion of Bitter Alumni #7 -- The Online Edition -- "The Top Ten Cheeziest Songs of the Eighties" -- by Tom Tomlinson Against the Void: "Nuts and Bolts" -- by Dan Sissman "Dialing for Dimwits" -- by Gary St. Lawrence "ST:TNG vs. B5: a Sociopolitical Ramble" -- by Jason Kapalka (jkapalka@gpu.srv.ualberta.ca) "Why I Don't Like 'Dungeons and Dragons": A Player's View" -- by Bill Ayres Rants and Raves #4: "Religion, Human Nature, and Roleplaying" -- by Tom Janulewicz On Being A Minor Star General: "Series Replay" -- by Jon Howard Review: "Magic: the Gathering" -- by Douglas R. Briggs -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "An Incredibly Brief Editorial Rant" by Chris Aylott Well, here it is, several months late (on the online version only -- the paper version did go out) but unharmed by the experience. LEGION OF BITTER ALUMNI is the product of various twisted minds, all of whom are solely responsible for anything they say. Sent comments, raves, brickbats and articles to me at either 190 Holland St. #1, Somerville, MA 02144 or "aylott@world.std.com". Enjoy . . . and look for LEGION OF BITTER ALUMNI #8 to be posted shortly. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "The Top Ten Cheeziest Songs of the Eighties" by Tom Tomlinson In an attempt to even further diversify the broad-reaching and ever-topical nature of this fine publication, I have managed to persuade the fine and lovely people down at LOBA headquarters that it would be appropriate to range into issues involving t he fast-paced and far-too-often kinetic world of the recording industry. As you may have noticed, I am also pushing hard for longer sentences. In any case, this article is the result of a lifetime (albeit a 12-year lifetime) of in-depth investigative research, philosophical speculation and far too much time spent listening to my inner child. Spanning the globe to bring you the bet in qualit y entertainment, the Legion of Bitter Alumni presents: THE TOP TEN CHEEZIEST SONGS OF THE 80s. First, the ground rules. Although each and every song that ended up on my list should be easily recognizable by anyone who was a regular radio listener in the days that led to the creation and proliferation of "Top 40" stations, no special allowance was given for popularity. All songs have been graded on cheeze value alone; while particularly esoteric songs have been avoided, Cyndi Lauper was not guaranteed consideration either. The debate over how to define cheeziness has been the subject of passionate argument for countless milennia, and it is not my goal to attempt to answer that question for the ages in this article. To me, cheeze is a certain feeling we all get at one time or another. Some embrace it; others are repulsed. 10. "If You Leave" -- OMD The name of the group alone was enough to give Junior High school students pause. Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark. As for the song itself, its popularity was at least somewhat assured by being associated with the inexplicably popular movie Pretty in Pink, which was yet another John Hughes effort at establishing Molly Ringwald as some sort of 80s sex goddess, contrary to all the observable evidence. The song qualifies for my list under its own merits, however. The light, ethereal tones completely devoid of any apparent rock influence are the natural extension of such cheeze masterminds as Frankie Avalon. The impassioned breathy vocals whisk the listener away, entirely masking the fact that the lyrics themselves make no sense whatsoever. The song is also graced with two elements essential to 80s cheeze: mindless repetition and an ability to take oneself far more seriously than one should. 9. "99 Luftballons" -- Nena "Der Komissar" -- Falco Hey, on any list involving the 80s, a tie is inevitable. In this case, the special nature of these songs pays tribute to the quality of the American listening audience. Both of these songs were immensely popular despite the inability of the typical American to understand what either song was saying, since, as you well know, they were in German. Although English version were eventually broadcast as well, the German versions deserve special notice for pointing out the irrelevance of anything other than having a good beat to a song's popularity. In both cases, listeners were inevitably disappo inted when after an auspicious opening, the English versions were played. The pervasive German influence will always have a special place in this writer's heart. Nothing beats the thrill of suddenly hearing "Kool and the Gang" in the midst of a foreign la nguage. 8. "Like a Virgin" -- Madonna I like to think that her first two albums reveal the true Madonna: someone who isn't afraid to simply have fun without bothering to think about the "quality" of her music. All too often in the last few years, this one-time paragon of cheeziness has shown signs that she is taking herself far too seriously and that she has begun to think of herself as an "artist". Whether or not the real Madonna is the cunning businesswoman we have seen in the last five years, Madonna's emergence in 1982 also ushered in the era of cheezy 80s music. Originally intended as a workout aerobics album, this debut showed signs of her coming dominance over the genre, but her particular talents were never exploited so efectively as in this anthem for high-schooler-infested malls across America. 7. "Safety Dance" -- Men without Hats One has not truly experienced life until one has seen a group of people (almost certainly intoxicated) attempt to spell out S-A-F-E-T-Y with the music in the manner of "YMCA". While OMD, Madonna and to a certain extent even Falco had some staying pow er, Men without Hats was a prime example of the American one-hit-wonder. Although the group has reportedly recorded more than three albums, most American citizens are unable to even remember their name, although the song lingers yet in their memory. The theatrical nature of lead vocalist Ivan Doroschuk is particularly noteworthy, although the key to the song is indisputably the choral repetition and helpful spellling guide to those who may be higher-brain-function-impaired. Also notable for the memorable video featuring dwarfs. 6. "Freeze Frame" -- The J. Geils Band The annals of history are filled with classic struggles for dominance: Capone vs. Ness, Frasier vs. Ali, Kirk vs. Khan, "Freeze Frame" vs. "Centerfold". While both songs are true bastions of cheeziness, it has long been my opinion that the fake camera sounds in this song (much worse than even those in "Girls on Film") put it over the top. With the lyrics seemingly shouted by the entire group, the J. Geils Band wasn't afraid to put the emphasis squarely where music-buyers in the mid-eighties wanted it -- on the mind-numbingly simplistic synthesizer chords that composed what passed for a chorus. I challenge the reader to try to forget that pounding electric sound . . . 5. "Karma Chameleon" -- Culture Club Somehow, without anyone much noticing, Boy George has begun to sneak back into American culture. Starting with The Crying Game and moving to "Entertainment Tonight" and semi-regular appearances on E! ("the Entertainment network"), Boy appears set to re-emerge. With has more somber contemporary musical forays, perhaps the time has come to belatedly acknowledge the contributions of the rest of Culture Club to the cheeze culture. This song had it all.A controversial front-man, a fun fast-paced song, and an acutal hint at the idea that the song meant something even if the vast majority of listeners had never heard of "karma" in 1985 (obviously it had something to do with color -- "red, gold, and green"?). While Culture Club became a temporary fad and they had some other hits, this song remains a tribute to the things that made the 80s great. Musically, anyway. 4. "Can't Fight this Feeling" -- REO Speedwagon One of the two consumnate prom songs of the 80s (the other being Phil Collins' "One More Night"), this song inspired strong emotion in those that heard it (it was my first girlfriend's and my prom song . . . --ed.) -- often repulsion and nausea (she ended up feeling that way about me, too. -- ed.). A love ballad with every tried-and-true metaphor the band could dredge up and complete with rhyming couplets, only the most obsessively thick individuals of the era could take this song seriously (uhh . . . -- ed.) Still, I have always been entertained by it, primarily due to the realization that people were willing to record it and perform it in public. Although they tended to be less blatantly cheezy, love ballads proliferated on the 80s music scene much like any other period. While earlier balladeers tended to acknowledge the somewhat silly nature of their undertaking, however, 80s groups went for a straightforward earnestness which only served to underscore their ridiculous nature. Those who know me are aware that I am unable to speak of this song without pointing out lead singer Kevin Cronin's amazing ability to hold his "r"s far beyond the limits of normal human endurance. 3. "Hungry Like the Wolf" -- Duran Duran No discussion of 80s music could possibly be complete without Duran Duran. Although their latest album suggests that actual music talent may have been lying dormant withing them, they were the banner-carriers of the cheeze generation throughout the 8 0s. The group's popularity led certain over-excitable record executives to compare them to the Beatles and had enough left over to support both Power Station and Arcadia (not to mention the solo career of Andy Taylor) after their breakup. Picking among Duran Duran's many songs ahs always been a source of strife among 80s aficiandos, with contenders the like of "Rio", "Please Please Tell Me Now", "The Reflex", "Girls on Film" and "Union of the Snake", just to name a few. This list is personal in nature, however, and this song has always been special to me. From the woman's laugh at the start to the solemn "Doo-doo-doo" chorus, Duran Duran proves that guitar too can be cheezy. 2. "Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)" -- Wham! Wham! -- a group so important that its name needed punctuation. George Michael and Andrew Ridgely ("the luckiest best friend in the world") had people rhythmically rocking back and forth (what passed for dancing at the time) with enthusiasm. Wham! and later George Michael alone went on to immense popularity but it was this quirky little song from whence it all sprang. Based primarily on Michael's uncanny ability to stretch his voice considerably higher than the standard male range with the traditiona l synthesizer and drum machine thrown in for good measure, "Wake Me Up" helped the emerging 80s form a sound all their own. The song's immediate embrace by an eager populace was a sure signal to important record executives of the triumph of form over substance. Clearly, musical mastery and technical competence was no match for a simple repetitive beat and a good hook. Few songs could ever manipulate the formula as well as this one, though. 1. "Don't You Want Me?" -- The Human League Like a force of nature, this song maintains its stranglehold on the top spot as the cheeziest song of the 80s. Long acknowledged as the paramount exemplar of the style, "Don't You Want Me?" has been the cheezy song of choice for reviewers from Tim Culler to Scott Martin. Coming from a band which admitted that they didn't really know how to play their instruments, this song was an anthem of would-be swingers and sexual optimists everywhere. The story of a cocktail waitress and her narcissistic ex-lover tapped into the American subconscious in a way previously exploited only by "Copacabana". Perhaps the simplicity of the song left listeners awed by the idea that they too had all the talent necessary to become pop superstars. Perhaps its unchallenging beat and easy-to-sing-along vocal simply remind us all of a simpler time. Whatever the reason, this song is destined to live on in the hearts and minds of cheezy music lovers everywhere. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Against the Void: "Nuts and Bolts" How Things Work in the Void By Dan Sissman -- part of a continuing series on constructing a science-fiction television show called "Against the Void" -- ed. The future must hold toys. Lots of them, with plenty of power-user features. This article will be an exploration, but by no means an exhaustive one, of various bits of technology in the Against the Void universe. While it is pointless at this stage to attempt to describe every possible gadget in the Void universe, it *is* in order to establish some firm guidelines regarding the creation and dramatic use of technological items. THE AUDIENCE DOES NOT NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING. In fact, in most situations, the less they know, the better. In the case of the decay of a spaceship's orbit around a planet, only three things carry any weight dramatically. One, that something unusu al has happened to place the ship's crew in this situation. (After all, people stupid enough to put themselves in such a situation as a matter of course would never last long enough to have stories told about them) Two, that the people involved can not i mmediately solve the problem at hand. (If a seemingly serious problem only takes a minute to solve on average, then protagonists will have to face about 60 different really dramatic problems per episode. The average audience member probably faces less t han one really dramatic problem per week. Credibility will begin to suffer.) Three, that unless the crew does something to solve the problem within n minutes, they will all die in unspeakable agony. It makes no difference whether they have to re-format the quantum matrix bypass or zero-boot the delta core memory of the propulsion subsystem. A general understanding of the situation is infinitely more important than an encyclopedic grasp of technobabblistic minutia. Consider the automobile. Millions of people drive them without referring to them as internal-combustion driven, feedback-piloted, quadra-rotary land vehicles. Very few understand the chemical interactions which convert petrolium products into heat, the mechanical processes which convert heat and gaseous expansion into rotational kinetic energy, the way in which friction converts rotational energy into linear motion, or the process whereby some of the energy is converted into electricity to re-charge the battery. Hell, it's difficult enough to get directions to the nearest Mobil station. Real people are not experts in every aspect of every type of technology which affects them in their day-to-day lives. There is no reason to expect the people of the future to be substantially different. (This idea is a fundamental postulate of "Against the Void".) TRENDS: Technology changes in two distinct ways--evolution and revolution. Evolution is easy enough to understand--a particular device is refined and improved incrementally over time. Consider the automobile again--it's safer, faster, and more eff icient than it used to be, but the fundamental process, internal combustion, is exactly the same in a 1994 Lamborghini as a Model T Ford. Revolutionary advances are those consisting of a more or less unpredictable breakthrough. Nobody could realisticall y have predicted the microcomputer revolution before the invention of the photographic processes which led to themicroprocessor. As recently as the early 1970's, the most optimistic predictions of the computer revolution involved dumb terminals in the ho me connected to a Big Iron timesharing system at a local computer center. Although revolutionary technological change is by nature unpredictable, it is subject to the same pressures as evolutionary change. Regardless of the type of change, technology develops in certain *directions*. The tools required to perform a given task will become faster, less expensive, safer, smaller, and easier to use. So technology in the Void universe must mot be slower, more expensive (per unit of work), more dangerous, bulkier, and less user-friendly than what we've got today. Another characteristic of technology is that it spreads. Information wants to be free. ANGORA, MONOMOL, THE YARN'S THE THING: None of these observations amount to anything unless they lead to entertaining stories. A good piece of technology creates and preserves a wide range of dramatic possibilities. So with these ideas in mind, here a few examples of the gadgetry that makes Against The Void run: FTL Travel. Can't visit distant star systems in a human lifespan unless you've got *some* kind of gimmick. In ATV, said gimmick is the MacGuffin Drive. The Drive, brainchild of Dr. Angus MacGuffin, opens a window into "i-space". For anyone who cares, the "i" is the same one used to represent the imaginary square root of -1 in complex numbers. If anyone really gets curious about this, we can say it has something to do with fractional dimensions. The hypergeometry of i-space is unbelievably complex. A trip from A to B through i-space may take considerably longer than an immediate return trip from B to A. Furthermore, the length of time required for a given trip may vary c onsiderably from one week to the next. Adjust as situation requires. When a ship enters i-space, it becomes the only object in that universe for the duration of the trip. (This may change later on, but for now, take it as law that there will be no i- space chase scenes.) Anyone looking outside during an i-space jump sees a wash of brilliant color, the result of photons emitted by the ship zooming through the local i-space pocket, being shifted wildly by that wacky hypergeometry, and returning eventua lly to the ship. Because of the horrifically complex , dynamic shape of i-space, accurate jump calculations can only be made from a relatively low gravitational gradient. (i.e. away from any massive objects.) Any attempt to jump from within a gravitational field will produce unpredictable results . . . FTL Communications. What good is being able to travel from Earth to Rigel in two weeks if the Hilton there can't call you before you leave to tell you they've already rented your suite to a visiting diplomat from Targus 62? FTL comunications open a lot of dramatic possibilities, but close a lot of others if they're available at all times. This has traditionally been handled by having the equipment break down or by encountering the Radiation Interference Of The Week. Not so with Void. Because of the Wacky Hypergeometry of i-space(TM), traditional radio-type broadcasts require prohibitive amounts of energy. (they're working on it, but it's a while off yet.) Point-to-pointnarrowcasts, however, are much more energy-efficient, and are therefore in widespread use. There is a network of repeater transmitters scattered through settled space. What this means is that FTL communications are available and extremely reliable in well-settled regions, but are a lot less reliable in sparsely populated regions. Computers are fast and smart in ATV. They still only do what they're told, however. A computer can make judgment calls and initiate action, but it won't do so unless so instructed by a human being. The main factor limiting our heros from using comp uters to solve every problem is software availability. For any given task, software probably exists somehere to accomplish it. The problem is obtaining a copy. One side effect of the increased complexity of a Deus X machine as opposed to, say, an Amiga 4000 is that abberant behavior is much more complicated. Consider a virus. Most mid-1990's vintage PC's have less than 8 megabytes of memory, with the vast majority in the 2-megs-or-less range. This means that the maximum amount of memory a virus can grab for itself without being completely obvious is about 10K. A 10 kilobyte program can do quite a bit of damage--even a 1K program can ruin your life-- but there are sharp limits to its behavioral comlexity. While the exact specifications of ATV computers should never be revealed, they are clearly many orders of magnitude beyond anything a vailable today. It has been estimated that the human brain contains about 100 terabits of information. When memory capacity on the average home computer has increased a thousandfold over the last decade or so, it's not difficult to imagine machines a few centuries hence where 100 terabits could disappear without notice. This would make it possible for a virus to have the brain of a human psychotic. Not fun. Except for the audience, of course . . . -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Dialing for Dimwits" By Gary St. Lawrence You'll have to pardon me if I sound out of sorts. I'm feeling a little ill. You see, I just happened across the Home Shopping Network and one of their episodes on comic books. Tonight's particularly infuriating "fantastic offer" from HSN was, of course, focused around Batman, presumably because there is currently no other single "hot item" for them to hype into oblivion. Believe it or not (I hope you're sitting down), HSN was hawking Batman #500 (you know, that pathetically over-printed die-cut piece of crap that your dealer still has plenty of copies of and is still selling for cover price? The one that brought us the new Batman nobody this side of Rob Liefield can stand?) for ... urgh, there's that pain again ... for $79.95! But wait! Before you scoff. Keep in mind ... it was signed, which is always clear reason to super-inflate a price by 1,600 percent of market value (I suppose you can find someone who isn't selling it for $5?!?) Isn't there some law or regulation in the Consumer Protection Act that can put a stop to this blatant touch tone travesty? I figure this is how it started: Someone at the Home Shopping Network, some time ago, must have overheard some kids at a comic book convention talking about getting certain books signed by the artist or writer who did them. He probably also overheard the kids say how the book became more valuable after the autograph. Sadly, whoever that grossly naive person was missed the mark like Oliver Queen on his first day on the island. The way the Home Shopping Network skyjacks prices on comic books simply because the book's second assistant to the assistant coffee gopher signed it, is the sickening travesty. The fact that there are simpletons out there who are stupid and gullible enough to buy these ridiculously overpriced "bargains" is just a shame. If you're reading this column, you've seen what I'm talking about. They have some kid in his early 20s -- obviously HSN's resident comic book "expert" (most likely because he was the one who most looked like Rob Liefield) -- droning on and on about w hat a bargain and once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is to shell out the cost of a major kitchen appliance for a comic book that isn't even old enough for the acid in the paper to start yellowing it. Not only do these clowns schlep ONLY the latest fanboy drool fests, but the idiot who hosts the segment doesn't even know what he's selling, let alone why. Something I find particularly insulting is that each episode features someone from the industry professional pool (strangely though, always from DC Comics) who sits there and hurls this carney barker barf right along with him. Don't Jerry Ordway and Curt Swan realize how insulting it is to see them on television, taking advantage of the cranially rectumized, pumping sales for material they know isn't worth a fraction of what is being charged as the "exclusive HSN bargain price?" Do they have such whole contempt for us, the people who made them famous, as to not care that they're bilking stupid people out of hundreds of thousands of dollars? Apparently not. They've both done return appearances. During the week that the four die-cut "Reign of the Supermen" books came out, introducing the cyborg, kid, steel and Son of Krypton Supermen, HSN was there, shamelessly offering "incredible deals" on the set of four, autographed by each book's artist and writer ... for only $159.95! Amazing. I bought the same books that same day, and only paid $20.70 with my discount. Of course, I got two copies of each of the four die-cuts and two each of the newsstand versions, but I did have to wait three long, gr ueling months before I got them all autographed. And I did have to pay $3 to get into the convention where I got them autographed. Funny thing though ... I still can't seem to sell them for more than $4 a pop, autographs and all. Sheesh. Those HSN guys mu st be incredible salesmen. I'd like to hear HSN's justification for their prices. I mean ... I have several "big ticket" books in my personal collection -- books that are in the four-digit column of Overstreet's Price Guide. I paid cover price for most of them. And now they're worth a lot of dough. But those books are nearly all between 15 and 30 years old, and they're landmark issues in which something significantly universe-shattering occurred. HSN's "prize stock" consists of nothing that's more than three months old and ... let's face it ... some thing considerably short of spectacular in their contribution to comicdom. In fact, as I'm writing this. HSN has, for only $69.95, you can buy: Cable #1 (lists for $3.50) X-Men #1 (new series - lists for $2) X-Men 2099 #1 (lists for $1.75) Uncanny X-Men #300 (lists for $3.95) X-Factor #71 (lists for $7) Now, basic math tells me that's $18.20 at the maximum guide list in Wizard #27. This means the people who bought that crap spent $51.75 for the four signatures (Brandon Peterson, Art Tibier, etc.). Shouldn't this clue you people in that HSN believes the value is in the signature (they emphasize that word every time they use it) instead of the actual comic book. And given that the only items in their "prize stock" is the latest fanboy drool mate rial, it should tell you that they're concerned with flash, and I'm not talking about Barry Allen or Wally West (and certainly not Jay Garrick). People, you're getting screwed! Not that I'd ever want to make waves. But I would certainly endorse a nationwide letter-writing campaign to HSN to express our displeasure with their operation. I would even dare say that there's got to be some legal eagle out there who can nail these thieves on a misrepresentation rap. After all, they're selling cheap crap at incredibly high prices, promising that the books' values will mushroom as "rare collector's items." Now, given that every single book they've sold hasn't even doubled in market value, I'd go further still and say that they're lying to viewers who are apparently too ignorant to realize that what they're buying will never be worth what they paid. Still, there is the "Caveat Emptor" angle. If the buyer doesn't beware, he's got no reason to complain when the hook is firmly embedded in his lip. But, then again, there is what P.T. Barnum said ... Gary St. Lawrence can be reached at saint@express.ctron.com -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "ST:TNG vs. B5: a Sociopolitical Ramble" by Jason Kapalka (jkapalka@gpu.srv.ualberta.ca) reprinted from an Internet posting . . . First, let me say that the following comments are just random thought noodles, based largely on B5's pilot. So don't bite my ass off if I'm wrong or misguided, please. Okay, the basic assumption: both STTNG/DS9 and B5 present their future Earth societies as American. Primarily caucasian, English-speaking, etc. No big surprise here... this is American television, after all. I kinda doubt Pakistanis in Space would float in syndication. BUT... the two shows seem to have widely varying visions of what this America-in-Space *is*. And if you buy William Gibson's opinion that science fiction is more about the present than the future, then what we have are two different perceptions of mo dern America. TNG seems to favor a Bush/Reagan-style America, or, as a recent Time cover put it: Globo-Cop. The Federation is the most powerful space-faring nation, and in their benevolence seek to keep the unruly Japs and Arabs...er, Ferengi and Cardassians from mucking up the wonderful intergalactic peace. It doesn't hurt that all these benevolent Federation folks go about their happy peaceful mission on the mother of all superbattlecruisers... but hey, that's whythey call it gunboat diplomacy. Sure, the occasional All-Powerful-Energy-Being-with-an-Infantile-Sense-of-Humour or Dalek-clone ("Exterminate! Exterminate!" "Assimilate! Assimilate!" Am I stretching here?) will show up to muddy the waters, but they never seem to affect the political situation. Surely Q could make himself President of the Federation, couldn't he? Or does he just have too much of a homoerotic thing going with Picard to bother? Despite their "to-boldly-go" split infinitive, there doesn't really seem to be anywhere new to go *to* in the STTNG universe. It all seems paved over and sterilized. You can almost picture the Federation developers moving along in the wake of the Enterprise,, working out plans to convert the latest Slime-Beast World into another Luxury Planet of Scantily Clad Aryan Chicks. B5, by contrast, seems to have it's future America in a much more precarious position. Where the Feds usual dilemma goes along the lines of: "We sure don't want to have to blow up these crazy aliens. Got to get them to see reason!" the B5 crew seems to be more concerned with: "Gee, we sure don't want these crazy aliens to blow us all to hell." B5's setup is certainly more tension-inducing; the Federation is safe as houses, while the Babylon station is surrounded by touchy and weird aliens who have (probably) scragged the last four such ventures. But (wait for it) the political implications are at least as interesting as the dramatic ones, or they could be. Where ST envisions America as ye old somewhat-condescending Global (or Universal) Peacekeeper, B5 has its society in a position where condescension is neither practical nor wise. Obviously, the space station's future, and Earth's, depends not on outgunning a bunch of goofy tribalistic clans, but on working out some sort of feasible compromise, which requires a deeper understanding of what the other space-faring nations are all about. Not a simple chore, considering the B5 Earthlings don't know what some of the aliens even look like, never mind what the hell they're thinking about. The B5 setup reminds me somewhat of David Brin's Uplift series, with the rogue "Wolfling" humans being a considerable irritant to the much older and more civilized races, most of whom would just love an excuse to scrub the stupid Earthlings off the galactic disc. To be sure, B5 still has its space-opera elements-- spaceship battles, raygun fights, square-jawed cosmic hero types-- but, insofar as I can tell from the limited material at present, it does have the potential for much more interesting cultural and political commentary than the ST warhorse. Please! Not another thinly disguised Vietnam or Gulf War parallel! And while we're at it, no more abortion/ single parent/ Nazi war criminal clubtexts. Blah. I think I've spewed at greater length than I originally intended. Momma told me never to look for socio-political intertexts in sci-fi TV shows... Joe Straczynski (straczynski@genie.geis.com) comments: Your assumptions regarding the differences between the two universes, and our political/social setup, are quite correct. We've taken the idea of a planetary government (not necessarily American in nature; we've gone back to some older ideas on the operation of a republic) with a senate and a President that is not looking to take care of everybody else's problems, and has enough problems on its own. (In fact, at one point in the pilot, a Senator tells Sinclair "The Earth Alliance can't go around being the galaxy's policeman.") I read, a long time ago, that what you have to do in a story is to get your character up a tree and then start throwing rocks at him. So instead of making everything easy for our characters, I've constructed universe that is difficult, where you have to work for everything you get, and nobody wants to cooperate unless they have to. Never arbitrarily, though; characters have to have good reasons (or at least what they consider good reasons) for what they do. For me, the process of overcoming a problem is more dramatically interesting -- and in a way more positive -- than a universe in which all over the problems have already been solved. I want to show characters who have to deal with the same BS as the rest of us, but who manage to persevere regardless. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Why I Don't Like Dungeons & Dragons: A Player's View" by Bill Ayres In a recent article on the connections between politics, economics and fantasy role-playing, I fingered TSR as being in egregious error on some of its attempts to manage technological development in its pre-generated fantasy worlds. This jab was but the tip of the iceberg; the purpose of this article is to take you (the unsuspecting reader) on an underwater journey to examine some of the remaining 99% of my pet peeves with TSR's D&D system. If you are an ardent fan of D&D and have a weak heart, I suggest you stop reading here. Let me preface the rest of this article by saying that I was raised (as an RPGer) on D&D. I started playing around 5th grade, seriously around 6th grade, and didn't stop until halfway through college (when I discovered that there ARE other systems in the world, but that's another story). And I also firmly believe that, given good players and a good GM, ANY system can be made to support good and fun role-playing (anyone who participated in Scott O'Callaghan's Magic Factory one-shot some years ago ca n testify to this; even veterans of the Holdercruz saga were known to have a good time now and again). D&D, in the hands of a good GM and with good players, can be a grand time and good roleplaying. Which is why I still play it occasionally. That having been said, I also firmly believe that as fantasy role-playing systems go, D&D is not a very good system, and seems to be getting worse (or at best, balancing its gains with losses) as it ages. My opening paragraph (and the previous article to which it alludes) should not be taken as indicating the extent of my distress (as GM) at their feeble and misbegotten attempts to introduce politics and economics into their realms; far from it. Recently I ran across an article in Dragon magazine ( Official Motto: "The Mouthpiece of TSR"; #190, if anyone's interested) entitled "Economics III: Population and Deforestation". This article, third in a series (someday I will track down the first two to see if they're as silly), was an attempt to provide DMs with a framework for understanding how populations would grow over time, given certain conditions - a useful tool for a DM who is running a campaign over a long span of time and wants that to reflect some dynamism. The article did this by producing Tables (of course - everything MUST be in a Table to be Official D&D) of growth rates, given initial population size and geographic location (urban, borderlands, etc.) Rates in this table varied between -6% and +15%, most of them positive and above 4%. This is outrageous. Clearly, the author has confused birth rates (how many people are likely to be born in a year) and growth rates (birth rate minus death rate). A population of 350 people growing at a rate of 8% per year (which is the example they use) would double EVERY 9 YEARS. This is not only massively inaccurate in a historical sense (growth rates until the 19th century throughout the world were very, very low, below 1% in most places), it's insane. Even the present-day Third World, which is widely recognized as having very large population problems, only grows at a maximum rate of 8% per year, and this only in the worst of places (sub-Saharan Africa comes to mind). Clearly, TSR's authors haven't done their homework on this one. Granted, the piece in question appeared in a magazine, not a supplement, and is therefore less-than-completely-official; but it is, for me, an illustration of a more general failure. But I digress. My original intent was to provide a PLAYER'S critique of the system, and so I shall. I just had to get that off my chest. Really, I'm done now. On to bigger and better things. I want to address two issues related to character creation in D&D: the determination of character skills, and the arbitrary nature of the saving throw system. In criticizing the TSR approach to the first of these I must admit up front that the D&D game system has made some progress over the years. Way back in the dark ages of First Ed. AD&D, skills outside those normally given to classes (which consisted, and still consist, solely of fighting abilities, spells, and thieving abilities) were almost nonexistent. Players who wanted their fighter to know how do something else besides bash things over the head could roll on a random table (again, those random tables...) to determine a "secondary skill" - basically, one single, solitary thing your fighter could do outside the general realm of hack-and-slay. This led, naturally enough, both to a tendency towards cookie-cutterism in character creation (since all characters are essentially equivalent within classes, especially fighters); and a distinct push towards the dreaded disease of Munchkinism, as naive and malleable minds, clearly given the message that non-combat skills didn't matter, pushed to optimize their characters for combat. We were all guilty of this at one time or another, and I'm the first to admit it. My claim is that the system pushed us to it, at least in part. Clearly, Second Edition, with its long list of Non-Weapon Proficiencies, is superior to this early failure. It is not, however, sufficiently better to make it a good system. PCs are still limited to an extremely small number of skills (usually around 3 or 4 for first level PCs), which is not an impressive number. Additionally, getting better in any one skill (particularly one that doesn't happen to be based on one of your best attributes, which are randomly determined) is prohibitively expensive; it makes much more sense to spend earned slots on new skills than to spend them on feeble 5%-per-slot skill increases, especially when those extra slots come along so rarely. Incidentally, this makes non-hack-and-slash adventures more difficult to design, since the bulk of the PCs abilities are still combat-oriented, and PCs tend to like to use all the nifty stuff they've got written on their character sheets. My second objection is to the completely arbitrary nature of the saving throw system. Clearly, saving throws are a necessary and good thing - who among us hasn't had a character saved from certain death by a timely roll of the die? In addition, saving throws represent something that makes sense in the "real world" of fantasy: sometimes, characters can resist spells, dodge lightning bolts, have sufficiently stiff constitutions to fight off poisons, etc. However, the relationship between these concepts and the numbers appearing on the saving throw table is practically nil. With two small exceptions (high Wisdom adds to saving throws against certain spells attacking the mind; a high Dex will add to saves involving a dodge - whichever those are, which isn't clear), these saves are predicated entirely on character class and character level. This means that a Cleric with a sickly 8 Constitution (but at fourth level) has a better chance of surviving a poison attack than a fighter with an 18 Con. (even if the fighter is four levels higher). Dodging-type saving throws (primarily against Breath Weapons, wands and certain spells) are similarly arbitrary in nature, reflecting neither the character's actual quickness (except as minorly modified by Dex - see above) nor any other significant measure of dodging ability (fighters ought, according to the general D&D picture, be better at dodging than wizards, but such is not the case, at least at low levels). It also means that, especially for fighters, going out and slaying lots and lots of whatever creatures your DM dishes up (orcs, dragons, giant spiders, what have you), as well as picking up lots of gold, increases your ability to resist ALL categories of attack - including those you may never have encountered. Finally, the categories on which saving throws are based -- paralyzation/poison/death ; rod/staff/wand ; petrification/polymorph ; breath weapon ; spell - bear little if any connection either to a realistic conception of a fantasy realm or to any theoretical explanations I can come up with. Why "death magic", "polymorph" and "spell" are three separate categories - and why different character classes respond to these magical attacks differently - is beyond me. Somebody had clearly been up too late a lmost two decades ago when these rules were being written, and TSR hasn't had the guts (or the creativity)to change them since. I could continue my rantings, but a) I promised I would limit myself to two pet peeves, and b) I suspect the editor is going to hack this article apart as it is (who, lil' old me? -- ed.). Allow me to end by restating what I feel to be the obvious: D&D, played well with good players and a good DM, can be lots of fun. But for those who want more control over character creation and a system that more realistically reflects the world of "fantasy physics", I would recommend another game. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- RANTS AND RAVES #4: "Religion, Human Nature and Role-Playing" By Tom Janulewicz Working the 'Little People' into the Design and Operations Matrices of A Fantasy RPG World . . . I wish to address some matters arising from Mr. Ayres' article in the last issue of this publication. His offering provided an excellent jumping-off point for the consideration of macro-issues of which the Fantasy RPG world-builder must be cognizant. In contrast I hope to offer a cursory analysis of some essential micro-issues, the things characters shaped by these overarching factors might encounter during the course of their day to day lives. While it is true that in a heroic fantasy campaign the Players often act on the larger political and economic stages the bulk of their interaction occurs with the people who are merely the product of these greater forces. The overall environment in the run-of the-mill fantasy world is essentially parochial. That is to say the social development parallels its political and economic analogues. Even the most urbane and cosmopolitan areas are still relatively backward. Such worlds are inhabited primarily the low-status masses with little or no access to or awareness of the political foundations of their worlds. Outside of the occasional centers of population and political authority (which are for some reason most often realized as a cross between a set from CAMELOT and Los Angeles a la BLADERUNNER) these worlds are primarily agrarian, containing peasant populations struggling for basic survival. Whether the Game Master selects the popular feudal model or any of the other systems Ayres suggests, the plain fact is greater distinctions matter little to the great mass of people. Will they on some level be shaped by these forces? Of course. Will they be terribly conscious of this fact? Probably not. Indeed it is likely that their political sophistication will not extend much past an awareness of the fact that there is a lord to whom they owe allegiance and through whom they enjoy a certain nebulous protection. Beyond that, the greater concerns are not strictly relevant. In a world organized according to such a plan, the lives of the masses will most likely find a center through the agency of the macro-issue of Religion. Most RPG systems ignore this matter almost entirely, a fact which flies in the face of historical evidence. In a low-complexity society religion pervades almost every aspect of daily life. The results of this force varies with the form of the belief system but nevertheless it should manifest as one of the central organizing tenets of daily life. As realized in a traditional role-playing environment, it seems that Paladins alone have this sort of ideological thread running through their lives, and their devotion is usually couched in terms of a fanatically self-righteous devotion to The Good, not a god. Worlds based on the African, Roman or feudal European models cited by Ayres would likely organize along polytheistic, elemental lines. Most natural forces would be ascribed to supernatural agents. Again, this is rarely the case in traditional role-playing worlds. In these environments it is most often the case that gods and demons exist in some sort of spiritual supermarket. The Tome O' Narsty Critters and other such manuals throw "Religious Monsters" into the mix with standard agglomeration of orcs, kobolds, ochre jellies and the like (and Game Masters pick and choose among these things with the same careless abandon the mundanes reserve for choosing cat food). Certainly the theological bogeymen are on a level of power and invulnerability that is off any worthwhile scales but in play they are still treated as basic monsters, albeit incredibly nasty and powerful ones. Even in those cases when the appearance of such creatures conditions serious negative reaction modifiers based upon sheer terror, the terror was rooted in the creature's power.Basically, just an almighty Presence Attack. There is little sense of, "Oh, look. It is one of the racial enemies of my people, a creature I have feared since hearing the campfire stories passed on since the dawn of time. Faced with this nightmare incarnate I am totally incapable of any sort of response short of dropping dead of fright." Indeed in the face of such terror made rotting, suppurating flesh, the players somehow seem to find its Achilles hoof. I contend that such power abetted by an adherence on the part of the players to some sort of system of belief would lend a more believable air to play. As would a somewhat more reasonable treatment of magic. The manner in which this force is treated in the fantasy world is patently ludicrous. As I understand things, in traditional fantasy worlds mages are groups of individuals who align themselves into similarly-minded, effectively unregulated cliques, enact all sorts of strange behaviors, have quite specific and ritualized codes of behavior and serve as conduits for unfathomable power. It strikes me that this treatment flies in the face of basic human nature. The beginner's D&D campaign tradition of having mages tossing lightning bolts in taverns is clearly problematic. Given the above postulated parochial and superstitious societies such behavior should lead to the burning of quite a few magic users. The powers they wield, if understood on any level, will most likely appear to the masses as the product of demonic possession. If tolerated at all, it seems that magic and its practitioners should be met with a certain amount of suspicion. Ayres alludes to a possible alternative to this condition in his piece when he suggests that magic makes long-range, high, speed communication viable. Given the already cliquish behavior of magic users (and the fact that mages of different schools probably have more in common with each other than they do with the common masses) it seems that mages might attempt to exercise power in the political realm as well. Imagine the authority of the Church in medieval Europe coupled with the ability to tap into the very stuff of nature. This then is the ultimate realization of Ayres' political vision. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On Being a Minor Five-Star General #5: "Series Replay" by Jon Howard Gee, not only do I swipe the title of this column from someone else, I've swiped this issue's subtitle from a magazine (The General, the in-house wargames magazine of Avalon Hill). But it's appropriate here -- I want to describe a recent game of Strategic Conquest that I recently played. StratCon is a computer game from Delta Tao Software. It's a very good game, with a wicked computer player -- even the programmer can't beat it at its most difficult level (Level 15). StratCon has a 60 by 80 square board (80 running East-West, 60 North-South). Units are very abstract -- there are Armies, Fighters, Destroyers, Transports, Submarines, Carriers, Battleships and Bombers. Pretty self-explanatory, but I should note that Bombers are one-shot weapons that kill everything in their blast radius. Bombers made in the first fifty days have a blast radius of 0, and every fifty days thereafter the radius goes up one. A bomber with blast radius three can devastate quite a bit of territory. While you know the board's size and your starting location, you don't know anything else about the world until you have a unit of yours next to it to see it. At the start, almost all of the World View map is black. The world itself consists of 15-18 islands, and you better know where the islands are before you send unescorted (and very fragile) transports off into the unknown. I played today's game on Level 8. The computer started around the middle of column 20, and I started around the middle of column 60. With my starting position, I figured my opponent was almost certainly west of me and started sending Fighter flights that way while taking the rest of my home island with Armies. As soon as I took a port, I also started to build a Transport. No problems for the first 40-50 days. I finished taking over my island and used my Transport to grab the islands west of me that I had found. I also made a second Transport to colonize east of me and built Destroyers for sea control duty (i.e. finding his islands and making sure the computer couldn't get to mine.) The peace and quiet couldn't last forever, though. The computer and I made serious contact around day 50. We had skirmished and traded a few Destroyers already, but now we wanted the same island. This island (I'll call it Central Island) was around column 40, a little below the center of the board, and was long enough north-south that whoever controlled it would be well on his way to blocking off half the board and keeping it safe. Northeast of Central Island was a smaller island -- call it Island Two -- that I had already taken from him. We both had a lot of our naval and airpower strength up there. I decided to hit Central Island from the south instead. One Transport with six Armies and another with two Armies landed almost simultaneously, supported by three Destroyers intended for shore bombardment and general nastiness and a Carrier with two Fighters for air support. I grabbed the southernmost city immediately but bogged down trying to take two cities north of it. It took another Transport landing, Fighter reinforcements and a week to secure them, but my Armies finally marched north to take the last city on Central Island. Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . . While the sea to the south of Central Island was quiet, up north was very loud. I had been able to build several Carriers and Battleships -- but so had my opponent. We battled back and forth for control of the straits between Island Two and Central Island, as well as for the straits between Island Two and the north edge of the mapboard. If I could hold these bottlenecks, he wouldn't be able to put naval units in my waters. If he could hold them, I would lose control of my seas and would be unable to sail Transports without heavy escort. The battle seesawed for weeks. I'd send a Battleship in and he'd sink it with a Submarine. He'd send in a Carrier and a Submarine and I'd sink both of them. Destroyers were going down at an amazing rate. It was so desperate that at some points I had to deliberately sacrifice Destroyers to keep Battleships busy while I brought extra Submarines up. At this point, though, I had the advantage in production -- more cities, and therefore more naval units. After almost 50 days, I could finally say I had control of the straits. Just before that point, I managed to take the final city on Central Island. My Armies had been slowed down by three separate Transport landings from my opponent. I was able to sneak Destroyers up the southern sea, however, setting up a patrol around the western edge of the Island. After cutting of the supply of new forces and with the help of large Fighter reinforcements, I was able to eliminate the final computer Army from the island. I was in a pretty nice position. I had at least half the board solidly mine, including complete control over the seas. I had at least half the cities, so the computer couldn't out produce me. I could send enough naval units into the western sea to harass his naval operations. What convinced me I had the game won, though was sailing Destroyers through the southern sea to the southwest part of the board and finding neutral cities there. I had turned his flank by taking the Central Island! I now knew he was concentrated in the northwest, and I knew that he was much shorter on cities than I was. After I invaded and took another island of his with seven cities, then called in a Bomber striked on a port with a Battleship in it (eliminating the Battleship andd making the port a neutral city), the computer surrendered. I guess the reason I like playing wargames is that they really force you to think. You have to decide what your main strategy will be. Which direction will you push in? Will you go for a big Navy, a big Army, a big Air Force or some combination of the three? You have to decide economic matters: which cities will produce what? Is it safe for me to produce a Battleship that will take 18 days to make in a city near the front that could be taken? At the same time, tehre are the smaller decisions. How many Armies should I invade with? Which cities should I base my Fighters in? How should I set my Destroyers to patrol? When I'm playing, I have to think both in immediate terms and in long-range terms, and I have to bealbe to see how the two interact. Most importantly, I have to do all this knowing little to nothing about how strong my enemy is or where it is or where it will attack. For all the factors I know about, there are even more I don't know about. When I decided to hit the southern end of Central Island, I had no idea if that was a good thing. I was wagering that most of his strength was up north, but I couldn't tell. if I had guessed wrong, my attack, and the units in it, could have been chopped into tiny little pieces. That day, I guessed right. It's knowing that you have to make the correct guesses with not enough information that makes the games so much fun for me. Anybody up for a game of Third Reich? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Review: "Magic: The Gathering" by Douglas R. Briggs "Okay, I'll tap one to put out the black vise, and I'm done." "Aagh. I've got three extra cards, so I'm down to two life point now. But I'll play a mountain, tap it and everything else I have except for this forest, and play this eight point earthquake, and then tap the forest to prevent the damage with my Circle of Protection: Red." "I don't think I can do anything. I'm hosed." Though it may seem like a poorly choreographed fight from some obscure gaming system, this is actually the bitter end of a game of Magic: The Gathering, a new card game from the Wizards of the Coast and Garfield Games. The players (which can number as many as you like) are opposing wizards, each of whom has a deck of cards representing the wizard's repetoire of spells. The object is to use your own spells to destroy your opponent while protecting yourself from damage. While this in itself is nothing new, the game combines the popular draw of fantasy with the attraction of collectible items and the highly desirable quality that the game is never the same. As a wizard, you cast spells, which have a cost in units of power, or mana. You have land at your disposal, which can be tapped to yield its mana for that turn. You can then use the mana from some or all of your lands to power spells. Some spells require specific types of mana, while others do not. For example, playing the black vise mentioned aboverequires no particular kind of mana, but the fireball requires at least one mountain be tapped, which will yield one unit of red mana. You can cast spells to summon creatures, to destroy or change cards in play, to prevent damage (like the Circle of Protection), or even to counter other spells as they are being cast. To play the game, you buy packs of cards, which come randomly assigned in each package. There are 302 different cards in all, some of which are "uncommon" or "rare," and it is indeed difficult to collect all the cards by buying packs. It's usually much easier to trade your own duplicates (of which you will amass a number) for cards you don't have.Also, if you somehow decide that you can live without your "Lich" or "Lord of the Pit" or "Sea Serpent," you can trade away something you can't use for something you really need. There are three unfortunate drawbacks to the game, two of which might eventually be eliminated. The first is that the rulebook included in a starter pack of 60 cards is useful for summarizing the game, but when the game becomes complicated (as it invariably does), the rules are sometimes too ambiguous to be really decisive. One can get around this by keeping up with the ongoing rules discussion on the Usenet newsgroup rec.games.board or subscribing to a listserver run by Garfield Games which publishes a "digest" of the Usenet articles. The other drawbacks are that the packs of cards are a little expensive ($2.45 or so for a booster pack of 15 cards, $8-9 for a starter pack of 60 cards), and that the cards themselves are of mediocre-quality cardstock. Hopefully, since the Wizards of the Coast seem to be making money hand-over-fist with this game, they will upgrade to a higher quality of card and be able to provide the cards more cheaply as the game itself gains popularity. To be safe though, you will need to be careful while handling and especially shuffling your cards, since they can be damaged more easily than normal playing cards can. SUMMARY Game: Magic: the Gathering Manufacturer: Wizards of the Coast (Garfield Games) Price: $2.45 (booster deck -- 15 cards), $8.50 -- 9.00 (starter deck -- 60 cards) Game Length: typically 15 -- 30 minutes, about an hour is the longest I've seen. Pros: Some very impressive fantasy artwork on the cards, collectibility, unique games every time. Cons: Cards are somewhat expensive and fragile. You need about 120 cards to put together a sufficiently competitive deck. Overall Comments: "Highly addictive" game, definately worth the price of starting up if you know friends who will be playing, as well. Rating: **** (of five) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Top Ten Reasons why the Federation doesn't use cloaking devices: 10) Test vessels keep disappearing and are never seen again. 9) Head of Starfleet has Bugblatter Beast Syndrome and thinks that if the enemy can't see us, we can't see them. 8) Insurance company won't cover accidents involving two cloaked ships colliding into each other. 7) 6) Afraid it would make it too easy for Kirk to steal another ship out of the docking bay. 5) It wouldn't help anyway, Q would still find them. 4) Don't want anyone to find out what _really_ happened to Pulaski. 3) External shots of the ship would be extremely dull. 2) Don't want to admit that for once, Klingons had a really good idea. AND THE NUMBER ONE REASON IS... 1) Mike Okuda and Rick Sternbach can't find the model they made of the cloaked Enterprise. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- LEGION OF BITTER ALUMNI #8 is out on paper, and will appear on the net as soon as I format and upload it. LEGION OF BITTER ALUMNI #9 needs submissions! My deadline is August 26, 1994 and I'll go to press (on paper at least... :-) August 29. Send me stuff! Have a great summer! -- Chris Aylott --------------------------------------------------------------------------------