A Battlestar Post

I resolved myself not to make my blog a television review location (I prefer to ponder... and let other people ponder too... and in general I don't find Television something to Ponder)...

Battlestar Galactica is an exception to this rule... but only because I got involved in a discussion about it on a board, and now I am pondering it...

For those not in the know, last episode brought us the Battlestar Pegasus. In the original 1970's series, this Battlestar was helmed by the wonderful Lloyd Bridges. In the modern version, Cain is portrayed by the ever-lovely Michelle Forbes. In both series, Cain is a commander who has taken battle-lust to the next level.

In the new version, this level is really harsh. Ron Moore took this and put every dark, foreboding, bad face of war into it. He dove into our fears and showed us that war brings forth our worst enemies in our reflections.

Another side note: The new Battlestar has a series of Cylons (The bad guys) who look and act just like humans... and our gallant heroes have captured one (Played by the beautiful Grace Park).

The Battlestar Pegasus' crew has captured one as well... The one called "Gina" (or Six), played by the incredible Tricia Helfer...

Where this gets dark is when we discover what Pegasus did to their Six...

When we first meet her, she is in a cel, dirty, covered only in a rough blanket, and she is badly, badly beaten... She is obviously mentally damaged, and is completely unresponsive to our main characters....

We discover as the episode goes on, that she has been raped... not once, but dozens, maybe hundreds of times... By many members of the Pegasus' crew.

And, in the terrible climax of the episode, the chief interrogator of the Pegasus goes after Galactica's Cylon, Grace Park...

The scene is horrifying... Terrible and vicious. He is stopped before he can do much, but he does enough to really make you feel awful inside.

Now, to my point:

A poster on a board said that this was a completely unnecessary scene, that it was exploitation of the characters and was just horror for horror's sake.

To which I have to say, I thought about at length... and disagree.

We forget that art has many missions; It is a reflection of That Which We Can See, to which we can behold, enjoy and remember; It is a reflection of That Which We Cannot See, so we can try to understand; and it is a reflection of That Which We Must Never Forget... even though it hurts to do so.

Many women have been raped in war. It is an awful truth, and something that we try very hard to believe that only the "bad people" did. But we don't realize that sometimes the "Good Guys" do it too... In Pegasus I see what normal people, like you and I, are capable of... To them, Six was a Cylon... a robot, not a human... this was a machine to be used... But the show has been slowly indicating over the last season that these Cylons are, in their hearts, no different than you or I... and so we get to see the stark reality that comes from misusing labels... "They are Japs... animals... not human at all" "They are Nazi's, anyone who would kill Jews is not human." Soldiers raped Japanese and German women because of these labels... The "Good Guys" went bad...

One of the most dangerous actions we as humans can make is to Label... Identifying people as an object of hate based on a concept which the person may only be connected to by circumstance. It is a very powerful tool. One that ours and many other militaries have used to their advantage over the last many millennia.

Ironically, Battlestar has been illustrating this very well... But it's subtle... very, very subtle...
And very powerful.

---Me.

Thus, it ends up here... where we can ponder it.

Waiting for Rita...

Just 50 miles from Houston is my home town... my whole family lives there save my sister...

So now I, too, wait for Rita...

----

Perspective...

I try, every so often, to understand my heroes in a light that we rarely get to see them in.

Tonight, during a discussion with my father, I found a hero I had never really explored;

Werner Von Braun was the father of the Apollo project of the 1960's, that exquisite monster of a rocket and tin-foil contraption that managed, with the generous help of slide rules, pencils, and the brilliance of NASA to put not just two men, but no fewer than 12 men on the surface of another planet; our moon.

They even got to play golf there (Hello Al).

The man behind this amazing feat had an amazingly dark past, something that is never bleached out or hidden in the history texts; Von Braun also created the German V2 rockets for the Nazis.

This was not something he was proud of, nor did he approve of the actions of the Nazi regime, he simply wanted to build his rockets.

Which is cool... But something said by my father tonight really hit me;

"Von Braun," He said, "knew that the Nazis were using Jews for slave labor, but he also knew there was nothing he could do about it. If he complained, he would have been simply taken off the project... And he wanted to build his dream..."

That hurt... I always thought of Von Braun as a noble man, a hero... But now, his dream was worth more than the lives of those Jews...

It's easy for me, a child of Liberty, to think that given the same bleak outlook in life, I would stoically turn my head aside and let them kill me before they had a Jewish slave work on my project. I'm an American. I'm not accustomed to this kind of life. I can no more understand this than I can the plight of that Jew who slaved away in the workshop. To me if I were in the position of that Jew I would stand there and let them hit me, and stoically stick out my chin and defiantly hold out until the bitter end... And die a proud American…

I keep ruling out the part where they rape my daughter in front of me and cut my fingers off and things like that... It's just not something I can easily comprehend... It's so easy for me to build a heroic fantasy like this from my chair in the middle of Midwest America where everyone is relatively peaceful and happy.

It neutralizes both sides... it overestimates the Germans who were there and it sadly underestimates the Jews who suffered.

But it's for lack of reference.

We compartmentalize, sharpen the edges, and make everything easy to understand. If you were a Jew, we sympathize, we know it must have been awful (Like that one time when the power was out here in MiddleAmerica... we Americans have a hard time grasping these things), and anyone who was German... well, you were bad. Pure and simple... No questions...

So Von Braun... he actually let Jewish slaves work on his rockets? My hero... is falling from the sky...

But then I have to be objective; In my fantasy, I (As Von Braun), tell Hitler to do quirky-unusual sexual acts with himself, tell him that his murderous ways are evil, and I might get a bruise or two, but hey, the war will end in a few weeks and I'll go build the Apollo Project and we will finally step onto the moon!

So... in my fantasy... it's only a matter of endurance... I just need to wait until the war is over and all will be okay...

But my Fantasy is distorted by history. To Von Braun the war was not being lost. To him the end would come with Hitler in charge of the world... and if he wanted the moon, he had to stay with Hitler...

Hitler did the worst thing he could possibly do to a people... all of his people... he insisted that everyone have his dream and his dream alone. And anyone who disagreed with his dream would have their dreams stripped from them...

Von Braun had seen this happen to many people... His dream was still alive... for now...

I can't underestimate the power of dreams... of Drive... Somewhere in that cold German world, Dreams kept millions of Polish Jews alive... when all else was lost, those dreams were still alive... simply because they wouldn't let Hitler take them away... Hitler would kill them for this.

Von Braun could have protested, and had Hitler strip him of his Dream as well... and watch as the world went to the moon without him as he shoveled coal into coal-fired vats for the remainder of his life. Erased from history, and a slave himself...

No one would know what happened to him. No one would learn of his sacrifice, and it wouldn't so much as save a single Jewish soul from slavery...

Through the years, many good people have made this choice… Not willingly, and not happily. They made it here in America with the Blacks, they made it in Japan with the non-Samurai.

Of course, the noble thing would be to quit in protest... Turn away, nobly shovel coal in the snow for the rest of his life, knowing he did the right thing...

Which is easy for me to say, since I have never shoveled coal...

Right and wrong are no more than two facets of the same diamond. We like to think that they are as different as day and night, but when looked at from a different perspective, every facet can shine…

---Me.

Your tax dollars at play...

Here's an interesting tidbit:

The US Postal Service, a tax-paid government organization, earns money from Junk Mail... (3rd class flyers).

Here's another interesting tidbit:

You can't tell them to stop sending you 3rd class mail, because it's in their contract to give it to you...

So, we pay taxes for our mail service, and we still have to put up with commercials...

I don't know about you, but I pay 30% of my income to the United States Government, and on everything I buy I pay another 5% in Sales Taxes... So for every dollar I make, the government takes almost 40%... Dangerously close to half... And for that I get to be bombarded by advertisements and junk...

Interesting, isn't it?

----Me.

The old Rebel yell...

You learn something new every day... but today my sister and I learned something new and cool... That's a little more scarce...

For those who watched Bugs Bunny, there is always talk of the Mason-Dixon line... Yosemite Sam was always chasing Bugs Bunny around, over, and -invariably- getting shot by a cannon through it.

But what was the Mason Dixon line? Who founded it? ...And where is it?

I knew it separated the Free North states from the Slave South states... so... I figured... it must be right between the North and the South somewhere...

It is...simply... not.

I always thought the Mason Dixon line came from a fella named Mason who was a prim and proper upstart from Philadelphia (Because that's where all the Masons' are... Haven't you seen "National Treasure"?), and Dixon, that southern gentleman from Charleston (In Dixie-land... see?). Whom got into a fight one day, probably over a slave or something, and then one shot the other, and then generals all got mad and then there were horses, guns, ships, ironclads, and then it was all "Fore-score and seven years ago"...

But it wasn't...

Let me tell you a story... about an Astronomer and a Mapmaker...

You see, way back in the 1700's (1750's to be exact), there was a whole mess of family problems going on between the folks who owned the area called "Maryland" and the folks who owned the area called "Pennsylvania", both of which were designated British territories and all... The problem was that it was unclear as to where Maryland ended and Pennsylvania began... so a British Magistrate had declared that Maryland began 15 miles south of Philadelphia... But where exactly was that? It was all very rough terrain... and extremely tough to map...

Discovering that Colonial cartographers were unable to actually map this, the leaders of the two territories called in the British Astronomer Charles Mason and the British Cartographer Jeremiah Dixon... who successfully (Well, mostly, anyway... despite er... "assistance" from the local tribes), managed to map out the line between the two territories and even went so far as to define a small part of Delaware and West Virginia too (Hey, it was King Charles' dime, and it would take a long time for someone to sail over the ocean and tell on them so why not?)... Great! Well.. except they really didn't do a very good job as the Mason-Dixon line starts almost directly Southeast of Philadelphia... not South... and it’s 22 miles to the border… not 15… perhaps they had discovered American Whiskey too… Well, everyone seemed to be happy with the results… so perhaps they were all drinking Whiskey…

ahem... anyway...

So, fast forward to 1863... The Union has had it with the slavery thing, and President Abraham Lincoln tells the South to get over it... they don't and the US goes to war... with itself...

States begin to leave the United States, and... someone notices (Probably while drinking even more whiskey...), that the Mythical Line of succession happens to be almost directly aligned (In much the same way as the Leaning tower of Pisa is aligned with “Straight Up”...) with this Mason Dixon cartography line mapped more than 100 years prior (Though not really as Maryland stayed with the Union, whereas Delaware joined the Southern Confederacy which means the line, drawn between the Union State of Pennsylvania and the Union State of Maryland is only 10% actually on the border of North and South... at those two tiny overlaps in West Virginia and Delaware, and it’s on the Western border of Delaware… which isn’t very “South” to me... a better line would have been Interstate 68... but really we needed another 100 years and a different war to prompt that line to be drawn)...

So... a line that was mapped by British folks to help settle a dispute between local landlords became a symbol (Even though it was mostly inaccurate) of the division of a nation, which would then become a symbol for rabbits that shoot handle-barred mustached short fellas with 16th century ship-board cannons...

And we wonder why our children can't get our history straight...

---Me.

Realization (Interlude).

When I look now for my mother, she can be found only in the pages of my memory.

Every morning I fear the day that I will not remember her face... That I won't remember her voice.

It's something I have worked very hard to capture... every picture, every recording...

But she was an elusive person. And reflections of her are hard to come by... Those that remain are mere snippets of sound and image.

And this intensifies my fear...

But I am slowly realizing just how hollow those things are.

And how foreign her face looks in those pictures, and how empty her voice sounds on tape.

And I have worried about this, too. Fearing that I am indeed forgetting her... That I am losing her.

But I now understand that I am not losing her at all. Indeed, I am now starting to see where she truly continues to exist.

Not in pictures, or sound bytes or video.

She's in here.

I can still see her reflection in my words, hear her reflection in my speech, see her reflection in my dreams. What she gave to my life reflects in everything I do.

She is forever sealed in the very fabric of my spirit. And with every letter that I put down in any journal, and in every piece of art that I create, part of her will always be here.

That is something no technology can capture... No amount of film, nor recording nor video tape.

Alas, science cannot grant us true immortality... we are still temporary. Film can't capture the warmth of a hug, or the true spirit of laughter or the lifting of a heart... It can only allow us to remember those things... And in time keepsakes alone will be as alien to us as the face of any stranger on the street.

But I see now that what she truly was -her indelible spirit, her very existence- is not echoed in the wash of paper and chemicals, or a series of data bits...

She is here. In these words.

So when I get frustrated because I have so alarmingly few sound bytes of her, or pictures of her, I need to acknowledge that she may have had a certain wisdom to her actions... for pictures alone are simply the cardboard facade of memories...

And even if I do someday forget her face or the sound of her voice, I know that her words and her spirit will always be here, woven in with the voice and spirit of my father and generously sprinkled with my own color, for better or worse.

But these words alone are also but a cardboard facade...

Today is warm, yesterday is cold... tomorrow is not guaranteed. I understand now that the best memory of a loved one is the one that is the wind in your sails, not the anchor in the water.

---Me.

Prudity Warning...

This is something that has been bothering me -in various forms- for a long time, and it seemed a great thing to blog about;

A couple of weeks ago I went to the book store to pick up comic books, I chose to pick up three Manga (Japanese Comic books, they are markedly different from American books). I picked up "Gundam: Ecole du Ciel" Because it is drawn by the man whom I have based my art style on, Haruhiko Mikimoto.

Now, and here's the interesting thing; I picked up Ken Akimatsu's Negima and Issue 3 of Gunslinger Girl. Negima is wrapped in plastic and has all kinds of "Mature Content" warnings on it...

I'm curious, I've read (And loved) Akimatsu's Love Hina, but it was fluff... what in the world could Akimatsu do that would get him sealed off?

So I read the two comics; Negima is sort of a twisted Harry Potter, Imagine Harry Potter graduates from Hogwarts at 10 and is assigned to teach in a girls' high school in Japan. Except he can't let the "Muggles" know he's a Wizard... That's the plot... it's simple, it's cute, I'd let my 5-year-old read it...

So why is it sealed?

Ah... well poor Negima (The main character), has a little problem; he can't seem to get any spell right... no matter what he does (Or his intentions, remember, he's only 10), he ends up blowing off the clothes of the lead female character.

Now, to be clear, you never see anything, flying bits of disintegrating clothing always cover her private areas (Small bits, but bits nonetheless). So apparently, it's sealed because of the implication of nudity...

Now, in contrast is Gunslinger Girl... for those not in the know, Gunslinger Girl is a Dramatic Series (As opposed to Negima's Comedy), about five young girls who are turned into Cyborgs to perform assasinations on behalf of a Secret Italian anti-terrorist Agency.

I read along in this volume, and we meet a new "Bad Guy", Pinnochio (Pino), who starts out by performing a hit on a man and then is walked in on by the man's 5-year-old daughter. We see one panel with him pointing his Glock at the girls eye, and the next panel she is laying out on the floor with blood pouring from her head and eye... still clutching her teddy bear to her chest...

So... of course, Gunslinger Girl isn't sealed because it is apparently acceptable for 5-year-old girls to be shot... but Negima is bad because of the implication of nudity (Not SEX mind you, just innocent nudity)...

As I was once told; "It's because our insides are more acceptable than our outsides..."

---Me.

Follow up on Mexican Invasion

So, most interestingly I was off by about 100 years on my account that the last time Mexican soldiers were on US soil…

Let’s set the Way-back-machine to July of 1944 when 300 Mexican pilots and servicemen were sent to Laredo Texas to form part of the only Mexican squadron to serve in World War II. Squadron 201 was deployed to Manila in 1945 and served with distinction during the closing hours of the Pacific theater of combat.
My apologies to the “Aztec Eagles”, I’m glad we got over the Santa Ana/Houston thing 60 years ago….

--Me.

Mexican invasion

For the first time since 1849 Mexican troops crossed into Texas.

For this I have to say; Welcome to the US, Mexico. Welcome to the United North America, and thank you for the aid.

Over the last two and a quarter centuries we have leaned on many countries, France, the UK, Australia, Canada... even Russia... but we always discount our other neighbor, Mexico.

There are reasons, of course. Mexico's police system has been the poster child of corruption, and their politics make the Japanese Diet look like a friendly picnic sometimes.

But we have always treated Mexico like the Uncle no one talks about. We have issues with border control, and there is a marked problem with the Mexican population density here in the US. But, as with individuals, the best way to handle a country in trouble is to respect it, respect the people, and be willing to accept assistance when needed...

Welcome to the United States, Mexico. We really appreciate the help... sorry it took 150 years for us to get over the General Santa Ana/General Houston thing...

Renaissance ink

Sometimes old stories haunt you like a plague...

Or the plague...

Or maybe just a heavy cold...

Anyway, waaaay back in 1994 I wrote a little comic called "August Ice", I was in love with my art style at the time (Which, I might add, was awful!), and the story was entertaining and funny (I'd go into details, but then you wouldn't enjoy it later). Needless to say, I never even managed a 5-page issue of the thing, and so it slowly died and never was seen from again...

...until today.

I have a dear friend whom works in collaboration with me on various comic book projects (Though he is a markedly better artist than I, I feel compelled to add), and today I went over to help him finalize a package for Dark Horse, while talking, we discussed the fact that he has no complete stories to show for his troubles, and he'd really like to add something to his portfolio that was complete. We get to talking and he brings up a space pirate story... which suddenly reminds me of August Ice... the stories meshed so perfectly, we are going to start a series of really twisted stories concerning these two space pirate crews...

Now (And here's where we come to the "Why did you put this in your Blog?" part), I have problems following through on projects, so I'm hoping agains hope that by putting this down in my blog, I will be compelled not to let this project fall to the side of the road as so many others have before it...

And so, gentle reader, you have become a mechanic in the functioning of my mind... I hope that is okay with you.

I have no idea what to do if it is not...

Either way, back to interesting stories on the `morrow

---Me.

I am...

How does one define person? I am politically minded, but that isn't all I am. I am an artist as well, A writer, a brother, a son.... I think often that this blog must stand for something, either a political message, or a strong stnace that I feel we need to take.

But in reality, it's me.

So, perhaps I should be me.

---Me.

Will You Be My Valentine? Will you also buy this saw for $19.95?

I noticed that someone new has replied to my Blog... how fascinating... I'm rather stunned... now Ol' Doc Heimlich, he's a friend of mine and we go way back... I invited him here, he reads because he is my friend, etc...

But here I am checking in and I notice someone has replied to my most recent post... wow... this is kinda like Christmas morning... or Valentines Day... I am intrigued... even a touch giddy... it's cool!

And I look. It's from a Mary someone... Wow... a stranger... From the Outside! Not someone I know! And she says she is liking my blog! Really? I thought it was rather pompus and abrasive myself... But hey, People come in all shapes and sizes...

And... well, she wants me to buy something... And visit this sales blog...

Wow... I am the Charlie Brown of the 21st century... I actually get Valentines, they are just all sales brochures...

If you need me, I shall be waiting by my mailbox...

---Me.

So, Socrates, what is the best government?

$3.00 a gallon and climbing...

All because the oil companies know that Americans will be driving a lot over the Labor Day Weekend...

Who are these Theoretical Americans? I'm thinking of staying home all weekend in a desperate attempt to not let my monthly Gas bill climb over $200...

$3.00 a gallon and climbing...

Capitalism says "If you don't like it, don't pay for it, and the price will change."

The local bus costs $150 a month and takes 2 hours and 13 minutes to get from my apartment to my work... what a haphazard attempt at competition...

So, with no competition, Oil can be set to any price it wants. They have a monopoly.

$3.00 a gallon and climbing...

Without alternatives, we will continue to pay for it. And we will be forced to encourage this behavior, regardless of whether it is the right thing to do or not.

Support your local sciences- Alternative fuels are on the horizon, some are already here, but no one knows about them, really. These aren't novelties, these are our future... It's either this or we can get used to...

Well... you know...

---Me.