No Laughing Matter

On the way to the nearest restroom at work today, there was a crowd of people gathered around one of the mounted televisions, watching the breaking news story of a Las Vegas hotel set ablaze, open mouthed and wide-eyed like (wait for it) moths drawn to a flame.

Their silent expressions told more about their feelings than any open air comments; Was this the result of an accident, or arson (arson, of course, caused by terrorists)?

It's almost amusing amusing how a small building fire that was unceremoniously snuffed could cause such paranoia among the commoners.

But what isn't funny at all is the unfortunate passing of actor Heath Ledger earlier this week. Now, I don't follow the daily lives of celebrities like so many Americans do; Whatever personal problems he had, or however "friendly" he was with those Olsen Twins made no difference to me whatsoever. Heck, I don't think I've even seen a movie with him starring in it, at least not a notable movie worth remembering.

Regardless, I'm very sad to see him go.

One thing I do share in common with most Americans is the love for Batman. Batman Begins was a very good movie, almost good enough to wash away the stink and shame of Batman and Robin (it doesn't matter how many times Schumacher apologizes for his sin; There should be a law that allows anyone within spitting distance to let one fly smack-dab on his face at all times), but it wasn't the best movie in the Dark Knight's cinema history. I felt the beginning training took a bit too long (plus it's well known that Bruce didn't just pick one place to train; He went all around the world learning every kind of martial art and combat tactic available), Bale kind of overdid the booming voice as Batman ("WHERE ARE THE DRUGS!!!? DO I LOOK LIKE A COP TO YOU!!?"), and the climactic fight with Ra's Al Ghul has Bats kind of contradict himself on the spot. But it was still a good start for a series reboot.

But the sequel has me twice as excited as the first movie, and for one simple reason: The Joker.

When pictures of Joker's modern re imagining were leaked via viral marketing, I was hit with feelings of shock and skepticism. I've always been used to the Joker being portrayed as a psychotic, but also clean-dressed clown, with greased back hair and makeup so detailed it could almost pass as his skin.

And in many portrayals of the character, the ghostly white color actually is his skin.

























He may be bloodthirsty, but at least he always combs his hair and irons his pants before a regular murder-romp around town.

But now take a look at 2008's Joker:















Where the original was a prim and proper clown prince of crime, this Joker looked like a PCP addict that ran to the nearest mirror, smeared a bunch of makeup across his face as quickly as he could before running out into the street in a screaming frenzy as he gunned down any man, woman, child or dog unfortunate enough to get in his way.

And that's where I quickly realized how perfect this re imagined Joker was. The original was always a great villain based on a very simple, almost primal concept (his idea of comedy involves dismemberment and death, and he's the only one who finds himself funny), but he was never considered a frightening character, despite being a clown. In many instances, Batman steps in on time to stop Joker from performing a genocidal performance and delivers a proverbial punchline that everyone finds amusing.

Except the Joker, that is. See the irony there?

But Ledger's Joker is just goddamn terrifying, the sort of figure you would not want to meet in a dark alley. Instead of explosive whoopee cushions or laugh-inducing nerve gas, this Joker seems content in good old fashioned Uzis and switchblades to induce fear and terror, and getting a good giggle out of your torment.

And let's not forget the massive scars formed around his cheeks.

Instead of a frozen grin permanently etched across his face like a stroke victim, this Joker has a pair of large gashes that give the illusion of a big, wide smile. Not only is it painful to look at, but it's also just plain creepy. I'm unsure if they'll reveal the origin behind those scars, but it definitely will push the PG-13 rating regardless.

As more production images scoured the net, and as new teasers began screening in theaters, I was convinced more and more that The Dark Knight would be a superior sequel to Batman Begins in every way, and it was all due to Heath Ledger's real world portrayal of the character. I only caught bits and pieces of his performance, but it was enough to sell me.

And that's why I mourn his loss along with his other fans, as this will be his first and last debut as the Joker. I can only take solace that the movie will supposedly remain unaffected by this recent turn of events, but I do recall early reports that the Joker was planned for both the second and third movies; Either he'll be written off as dead by this movie's end, or they'll get a replacement actor for the third movie, but I have doubts that the latter could ever come up with a suitable replacement for Ledger.

RIP, Heath Ledger. I'll be sure to root for you when I watch your last performance on the big screen (and I imagine much of the crowd will be doing the same when the time comes).

The One Free PC

I don't keep up with the PC Times.

I've used a PC extensively for years, far more than any other electronic device I've owned in my life (in fact, I might end up with more internet mileage than TV mileage, at this rate). Yet I never bothered to upgrade my system with new specs, parts, or anything else unless it was absolutely necessary. Some extra RAM here, a new hard drive there, and that would be the end of it.

But recently I decided enough was enough. I grew tired of the random freezes, choppy output, slow processing, and other aged quirks from my five year old Dell. With enough cash and motivation on hand, and a bit of online guidance, I decided to do some extensive online shopping and get everything up to speed for at least another five years or ten years.

I tried to do a bit of Froogling in other to lessen the expenses, but further insistence from my online PC consultant convinced me to buy the items new and unopened. I spent a good $700 or so in total, but I was told it would cost me over twice that much if I just bought a brand new PC with the same specs.

My room quickly turned into a mini warehouse as the boxes started piling up, but I refused to do any installing until I had all materials on hand. Those materials include...

1. The Power Supply:















Apparently my old power supply didn't have enough voltage to sustain my new PC, so I went with this cheapie recommendation.

2. The Motherboard:
















This would basically count as the "torso" of the new PC, where all cables, wires, and cards would attatch to. Perhaps "intestines" would be a more accurate description.

Next to it is a 250gb hard drive, which would be the "stomach".

3. The Processor:















The "brain" of the PC.

4. The RAM
















The uh, legs? It makes everything run faster.

5. And finally, The Graphics Card:















This would definetely be the "muscles" of the PC, and was also the most difficult item to acquire (convieniently out of stock in nearly every website at the time I was searching for it).

I finally had everything I needed.














I was pretty nervous, since I've only added components to my PC, but never replaced anything. I was assured constantly that it was very simple surgery, and a pair of screwdrivers, some compressed air and a bit of thermal glue were all the tools I'd need.


I unplugged everything and bravely opened up the tower. It was time for surgery.















Yikes. I never gave it much thought, but I certainly should have cleaned up this dust more often than not.















But fortunately, that's what the compressed air was for.















And viola. Nearly dust free (cough, cough). I can still feel the particles brushed against my nostrils.















Just one last look before taking everything apart. A SATA hard drive, a Radeon graphics card, some RAM too. It's too bad nothing here could be re-used. I doubt I'll get much out of it from Ebay.















Motherboard was the first thing that needed to be installed, followed by the processor. The processor was the one part I was most delicate with, since essentially any problems would screw up the whole bloody PC. I also had the thermal grease on hand, and was basically told to just dump it on top of the processor, like a "poop stain".















I tried to swirl the grease around the edges, but there wasn't enough to go around the whole processor. So I gently smeared the rest around until all areas were covered.















The sheer magnitude of cables was daunting at first, but I slowly took my time with everything, and managed through without much trouble. It was really a simple case of "this fits here, so it should go here". I was concerned that the power supply wouldn't fit in my tower unless I turned it upside down, but it turned out that having the fan point directly at my motherboard was actually a good thing.















The only wire I couldn't find a port for was this thin black one that came from the front of my tower. I spent a good thirty minutes trying to find a place for it, but ultimately gave up. I may never know what it does, but it looks like I didn't need it.

I won't bore you with the details, which basically amounted to several days where I try to illegally download a proper version of Windows (my old disc still worked, but basically limited my PC to XP Home), only to come into constant hurdles and spyware, as well as new security measures where Microsoft can detect a pirated copy and promptly bitchslap you for it. So as I spent another 4 hour night in trying to do some registry hacks and reboots, I woke up the next day and decided to buy a legitimate copy of Windows Vista.

Two secure, painless days later, I still don't regret it. You certainly get what you pay for.

Final Specs of 2008:

AMD Athlon(tm) 64 X2Dual Core Processor 4000+2.10 GHz, 2.00 GB of RAMGeforce 8800GT 512mb

Basically, there's nothing my PC can't do, now. Currently I'm making some tweaks to run Crysis perfectly, but it already runs far better than I expected as things are now. With a bit more tweaking, I'll even have Playstation 2 emulation up and running, which is well worth it for the beautiful resolution boost.












And finally, there's the Steam community, which is basically the PC equivalent of Xbox Live, except many times more stable as well as free. I do worry about the dangling temptation of ordering games online, and having them download to your computer immediately after. It's all very tantalizing, but my hunger should be sustained for a while once the Orange Box arrives in my doorstep this week. There are countless mods available, and countless ways to get new enjoyment out of the same game. Looking forward to it.

My PC name? The One Free PC.

The Dream Beyond The Clouds

Ironically, the first complete short story I'm posting here is actually the last one I've worked on at this time. Well technically it isn't complete; I plan to make this story last for at least three chapters total, and hopefully not go beyond the word count for future publication oppurtunities.

It's still a work in progress, and one that I'll continue tinkering, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy it:




The Dream beyond the Clouds


High above the clouds stood the sky kingdom of Hadran, basking the earth below like a fresh morning sun. Within the floating buildings of aged stone and forged statues lived the Calmeel, a race of magical beings who practiced the art of peace and nature as the truest form of magic.


Down below the earth, nestled in the dark coves of fragmented graninte lived the Nirock, cave dwellers that have been denied the warmth of the sun, with the faint glimmer of the full moon their only source of light in their eternal darkness. The Nirock have been isolated and shunned by the sky farring Calmeel, due to their practice of dark magic and of their frightful appearance.


And so the two nations quarreled; a war of freedom and rights that has lasted for generations. The casualties have been innumerable from both kingdoms, and the years of bloodshed have caught up to the two magical races. Extinction was looming forth, but whether it would come for the Calmeel or Nirock, neither side could say for certain.


Within the cloud-covered walls of Hadran, the young Calmeel children lived in peaceful ignorance of the plight befalling their homeland. Outside the eastern building, the children dutifully but happily spent their days studying the ancient magic of their people, taught by the last remaining Sages of Hadran. Sage Hozi, the kingdom’s greatest living sorcerer worked as the children’s teacher. In truth Hozi was but a man still carrying the last bits of his youth, still unlearned in the lesson of magic and the magic of life, but the toll of the war has bestowed him with the burden of being Hadran’s greatest warrior.


“Master Hozi…” a young student called anxiously. “How much longer must we practice these childish spells? What good will these conjuration tricks do against our enemies?”


Hozi smiled patiently at his young pupil, ever restless in his path to magician and manhood.


“My young apprentice…” he began. “One cannot plant a seed in the ground and expect a tree to sprout within a day. It requires years of nurturing. So too must you learn to nurture the mana that swirls around your body, so that you may one day stand as tall as the greatest redwoods.”


“But you are nurturing me too slowly!” The boy continued in his defiance. “My brother is two years younger than I, and he has already learned the beginning spells of destruction!”


Hozi’s smile pulled back a bit upon that remark. Many of the Calmeel teachers preffered to keep their teaching methods seperate from one another, but news of their tutelage tend to reach each other through such murmurings among the students.


“I do not want to learn how to talk to stupid birds; I want to learn how to fight like my father!”


“It’s that sort of talk that keeps you from growing, my little sprout.” Hozi and his pupil turned around to face the new but familiar voice. A young girl entered the outdoor training area with the grace and presence of a woman beyond her years. Dressed in a flowing white garment, with hair as bright and yellow as the sacred sun, and a warm smile to match its radiance, the young girl waved her bare hand to prevent the young boy from bowing.


“Sweet child…” the girl spoke in a manner as patient as Hozi’s, “It takes more than mere nuturing to help a seed grow. There is another step beyond water and sunlight that the seed requires. Do you know what that is?”


“No...your majesty.” The young boy nervously shook his head.


“Love.” The maiden smiled wider, while her short golden hair shimmered as brightly as the embroided crest from her robes. “Love for the warmth of the glowing sun, for the cool taste of the flowing water, and for the gentle earth that sustains the seed’s life, like a mother that tenderly carries her child inside herself. Without these things, the seed could never grow into a tree, just as the child could never grow into a man.”


Gracefully, the young girl lifted her hands into the air, her slender arms sliding through the silky sleeves of her robe. “So too must you learn to carry the infancy of your magic, to appreciate and nurture your skills, so that they may one day grow as wondrous and pure as your very spirit.” And with a mere flicker of her blue eyes, a flock of white doves flew behind her as quickly and gracefully as a field of trees rocking in the wind. The young boy watched in awe, captivated by a conjuration so simple, yet so beautiful.


Hozi’s smile returned, thankful that Hadran’s prized student had time to teach her successors the true ways of magic. He commanded the boy to continue in his studies while he followed the young girl to the edge of the hall, overlooking the entire kingdom as the sunlight poured through the stone walls and grand windows.


“Thank you, princess.” Hozi spoke.


“Please, Hozi, call me Kinah”. She responded. “You know I like that title no more than you like being referred to as Sage Hozi.”


“Of course, your majesty. However, do remember that your title was bestowed to you on birth, while mine was merely passed along.” Kinah could sense the bitterness in her friend’s words, still discontent of his promotion. However, she also knew that there was something more than titles that bothered him.


“The children beyond my class are being taught destructive spells at a faster pace than I would care for." The young teacher leaned forward at the moss covered railings, looking onward at the sea of clouds. "The other teachers are trying to raise new defenders of Hadran, but they are only hastening the deaths of these poor younglings. They cannot sharpen frail twigs into tempered steel. Whether by training or combat, they will only break.”


“Do not think such horrible things, Hozi. You are far too young to worry so. At this rate you will grow more wrinkles than our old teacher.” Kinah placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder, reminding the burdened mage of a time when they were once equals under the same classroom.


“This war is reaching its end, princess.” Hozi continued, unmoved. “We do not know how many of the Nirock remain, but the youth of their recent attackers prove that their numbers are as dwindling as our own. At this rate, there are but three outcomes: They wipe us out, we annihilate them, or we both face oblivion.”


“This war will end, Hozi, but with a fourth option.” Kinah replied, unshaken. “The Nirock are as tired of this war as we are. I am certain that even now, we can still negotiate a truce.”


“I am thankful for your optimism, Kinah, but I am not comforted by it." Hozi adjusted his prized spectacles with a single finger, a common tell whenever frustration seeped within him. "The Nirock are cruel, monstrous creatures. No amount of sunlight will mend their twisted roots, so they instead seek to tear down our society, down to the last sky tree. Your talks of peace are often overlooked as royal sanguinity; but were they spoken by a common woman, she would be punished for her heresy. I have no right to command you, princess, but I beg of you as a dear friend to never speak of such nonsense again.”


“Very well, Hozi.” Kinah spoke, defeated, but not insulted. “If you will excuse me, I shall be taking my morning stroll. Why not come with me, to give your wings a good stretch?”


The Sage laughed, his misery all but vanished. “I’m afraid my wings are far too old to follow, but yours are still as fresh and flighty as a newborn chick. I’ll remain content at watching you fly away.”


Kinah gave another smile, one that served as a farewell to her friend. Turning around, the Hadran princess lightly stepped atop the edge of the balcony, a mere step from falling to the earth below. She could feel the aged vines dance around her bare toes, the same roots that surrounded her city for as long as the stone was were built.



With a deep breath, she tugged lightly at the back of her flowing white robes, until at last her white wings arose from the openings of her dress, stretching above and beyond her like living birds awakening to the gentle air. With a small leap, she surrendered herself to the cool wind as it cradled her wings into a graceful flight. Bidding a curtly wave to her Hadran brethren as they engaged in their own morning flights, Kinah flexed her milky white wings inward, and descended into the earth below.


The winged princess shut her eyes as fierce gusts of wind plowed through her face, small tears prying free with gratitude over the wondrous touch from her mother earth. After a time, Kinah opened her eyes to gaze across the wide world below her, endless waves of green grass and brown mountains stretched beyond her sight. She would gladly spend hours soaring from this height, ignorant to the ravages and toils their war have marked below; but today she had a particular destination that she needed to reach, and with one final glance she pulled back her wings again, to descend even lower to the small dark patch of earth below her.


From such a high distance, the small mound of charred soil and black trees appeared as nothing more than a small blemish in the face of the land; but to the Calmeel, it served as a grim warning: the Wastelands, a graveyard of forgotten souls bound forever beneath infertile soil. Neither the Calmeel nor the Nirock dared to step foot into the Wastelands, as tales of malicious wraiths and binding curses have existed as long as both kingdoms have prospered. To Kinah, however, the shared superstition served as the ideal location for her secret endeavors.


Once the winged princess’s bare feet touched the charred soil, her body shivered, despite the lukewarm temperature of the area. Even though she has trotted on this unholy ground several times in her life, a cold chill would always greet her every time, from the tips of her toes to the top of her wings. Even the morning sun was obscured from the dust covered wind that blew around. Regardless of her views on the war and her enemies, the Calmeel child held no doubts that the Wastelands were an unspeakibly evil place.


“You are far from your cage, little bird.”


The whispering voice echoed throughout the dead land as quickly and coldly as the chill Kinah felt upon her arrival. Turning around, she could see a moving body materializing from the shadows and into in the faint light. A young man stood, covered head to toe with the ragged clothing and cobbled dust of a hundred year old corpse. Beneath long flowing rags of unwashed robes, his young features remained concealed behind a veil of pale flesh. His black hair split apart atop his head like a rotten cabbage, and his eyes shined as coldly and brightly as pale moonlight. The man shambled toward Kinah, his silver eyes focused and unblinking, but the Calmeel girl did not step back, but forward. Her face was not filled with fear, but joy.


“Siel.” Her voice was soft, but without reproach. Kinah increased her steps and wrapped her bare arms around the dark robed man, burying her head into his unwashed robes. She did not repel the grime and cobwebs, but reveled in them like a warm blanket. The young Nirock did not return the Calmeel’s affection, but he welcomed it nonetheless.


“I thought we agreed to limit our meetings to avoid suspicion.” Siel spoke in a reserved, devoid tone, yet Kinah could decipher the concern hidden within his voice.


“I know, my love…” Kinah replied, her affection unrestrained. “But I could not bear to be apart from you even longer. For every slain Nirock reported by my Lord father’s soldiers, I always worry about you. I can never rest peacefully until I can see you here, alive and well.”
Siel stood silent, not caring to protest any further. He brushed his pale fingers lightly across his lover's white wings. “As radiant as the moon itself, but you do me too much honor. If your father knew that his only daughter's wings were defiled by a Nirock's touch....”


“Do not say that!" Kinah’s voice rose. “Your touch brings more comfort to my wings than the morning breeze. Please Siel, show me yours. You should know by now not to feel ashamed.”


The Nirock youth stepped backwards, staring silently into the Calmeel’s eyes. Any doubts he felt vanished as quickly as the Wasteland’s wind, and with a mere tug of his robe, a pair of black wings protruded from his back like a waking bat. Where Kinah’s full-feathered wings bloomed brightly in the dark of the Wasteland, Siel’s thin grey appendages easily blended into the darkness, strands of black feathers dragged across the air like dead leaves.



“They are beautiful Siel, I have told you several times now.” Kinah spoke with absolute truth in her voice.


“They are nothing but withered weeds, princess.” Siel spoke, unconvinced of the lie. “Even as a prince, my wings are no more special than any of my kind. Despite what you claim to believe, it is our horrid appearance that is the cause of your people’s hatred toward us.”


“Very well, Siel. It is true that I knew you long before our wings had grown, but we still became the dearest of friends when we were small. Finding out about your heritage did not change my feelings toward you. That is why I believe our kingdoms can coexist. If I could look beyond your black wings to see the gentle soul concealed within, then I know my brethren can do the same.”
Kinah could see Siel’s face unchanged by her words, as usual. But she did not want to waste their short time any further. “Come, Siel, let us be on our way.”


The Nirock prince and the Calmeel princess took hand in hand, and together they flew high into the air, beyond the Wasteland, and higher still beyond the clouds, and even higher beyond the sky city of Hadran, using the sun's blinding rays as concealment from the flying citizens. With the combined strength of their wings, both ugly and beautiful, the two winged lovers flew higher than any one of their clansmen had ever dared. After minutes into hours of upward flight, they stopped at last at their destination; a solitary mountaintop that overlooked the sea of clouds that formed the top of their world.


The two heirs of the warring kingdoms stood silently atop their secret summit, their hands locked together and their eyes trailing across the vast white plains. Far across, a handful of mountains both smaller and larger than their own protruded beyond the clouds, standing as tall and aged as the oldest trees, for Kinah and Siel were the first two living beings in thousands of years to witness these ancient monuments. For only they knew that no Calmeel or Nirock could ever make the journey above alone; it would take the united strength of both their wings to reach beyond the clouds, beyond their dreams. The only dream they shared now was the hope that one day both of their kingdoms would unite together, as they have, and rise higher than they ever could alone.

A Primo Position

Today I was going to show you the complete first chapter of a new short story I'm working on, but the perfectionist in me took a look over and decided there were still a few kinks to work out, so it'll have to wait until Friday (and no, I will not extend that promised date any further, may God strike me down). There's also a certain inconsistent plot point that I will need to address, but I have faith in my creative skills to explain it sufficiently.

Or I could just say it's magic, which apparently needs no explanation.

In the meantime, I am happy to reveal to all of you that I've been given a generous opportunity. I was offered a couple of weeks back, via a private forum message, the chance to work at a gaming website by the name of Primotech, where I would work as either a news editor or reviewer.

Having never worked on a legitimate website before, I had doubts if I was up to the task, yet I was immediately interested in filling out the position. The website owner confirmed that I would first work as an intern of sorts, not receiving compensation until the first couple of months. However, I did assure him that the money was not my primary motivation, but rather it was the credential in working for an established gaming website. If I could pull this off, it could potentially increase my chances at a future in a bigger publishing company, possibly the likes of 1up or IGN. My biggest desire is still the written world of fiction, so I'm unsure how a website credential would improve my chances, if at all, but it couldn't hurt.

I recently managed to get in contact with the website owner via AIM, where we further discussed what I need to do and how to do it. He managed to dispel the uncertainty I felt with providing up to date gaming news, and instead immediately offered me the position of game reviewer. Since I'm one of the many legions of people who periodically tear apart videogames in forums, the transition to a professional reviewer seemed like a better fit.

Naturally, there were still a couple of trust issues from both our ends. He politely wanted to make sure I wouldn't accept the job, receive my free copy of the game in the mail, and then cease all contact afterwards (whoo! free game!). And I wanted to make sure that I had what he was looking for in a reviewer without putting him through the trouble of sending games out to a total stranger.

So I offered a compromise: I asked him if I could take a game that I was already planning to purchase on the day of release, and use that as my first reviewer. He agreed instantly. The game will be available early February (I won't mention the name, but it should be easy enough to narrow the choices down), which gives me extra time to read the previous reviews on that site.

But preparation aside, I am quite excited about this oppurtunity. I believe I have what it takes in order to write up a critical review each month, and this could lead to further oppurtunities in the future, perhaps even a guest pass to major gaming events such as GDC. And again, the credential is the most important benefit, and could be exactly what I need to make a name for myself in the world wide web.

Also, woo! Free games!

Magic Over Marriage

At first I was against the idea of posting a comment regarding the latest debacle regarding The Amazing Spider-Man's "Brand New Day" plotline, where Peter literally and inexplicably makes a deal with the Devil to sacrifice his marriage with Mary Jane in exchange for the resurrection of Aunt May.


Now the space time continuim has been altered; Peter is now a swinging bachelor, his aunt is alive and well (but considering that she must at least be pushing 95, who knows how long that could be), and his best friend/former enemy Harry Osborn is alive for no other reason than to put the Spider-Man series back "the way it should be."


And we have Marvel's head honcho Joe Quesada to thank for this, as it was his insistence that Mary Jane no longer be engaged to Peter Parker. By his own reasoning, Peter Parker should forever remain a highschool attending bachelor with a sweet old aunt, because that's how the audience connects with him best.


The only thing amazing is how utterly wrong and misguided Joe Q is.


Having a loving wife while juggling several jobs is not disconnecting anyone from Spidey, it's literally putting all of us in his shoes. No, not everyone is married (I'll refrain from the obvious comic book reader stereotype, since people in glass houses shouldn't be throwing stones), but most of us should know how a marriage works. The best moments of Spider-Man aren't when Peter is self loathing about himself, whether it's meeting the deadline for a new photo for J. J. or stuffing his battered costume in a place Aunt May wouldn't be able to find it; It's when he fears for his wife's safety, or trying to help her cope with the knowledge that one day he won't return after a night of crimefighting.


Therein lies the emotional attatchment, when Peter is more concerned about his wife's happiness than his own, not if he can hit knock out Dr Octopus quick enough to make it in time for his date with Blondie Mcblush. The highschool bachelor angle was significant during the early days of the series, but to undo his progress as a married man balancing his superhero life with his married life as a result of "Magic that needs no explanation", Marvel is basically telling us that change isn't a good thing.


I stopped reading the original Spidey series more than a decade ago, when the whole Clone Saga forced me and several other readers to say "enough is enough" and move on. Even so, as someone who grew up with the Webslinger, I am personally disgusted and ashamed by this sudden development, probably more so than the aforementioned Clone fiasco.


It's bad enough that Joe Q and Marvel want us to believe that Peter is better off without Mary Jane (despite no complaints whatsoever from the fans), or that they used an incredibly hackneyed plot to undo the marriage ("It's magic, we don't have to explain it. Also, Santa Claus will appear and make the X-Men teenagers again."). The two worst things about this devilish debacle are:

1. Change is bad, that's why everything has to be reset. Apologies to all the writers who worked hard on capturing a believable marriage.


2. Peter will wind up back with Mary Jane anyway, Magic will fix everything back to normal. Oh, and Aunt May will still be alive, so everybody wins.


Nothing will ever change in comics. Any time a major event is scheduled, from a character's new costume, a shift in a relationship, or a major death, it all inevitably resets to normal. The question isn't if Peter and Mary Jane will ever end up back together; The question is how long will Marvel run with this sick joke until they get tired of it (because the fans don't even want to put up with the beginning of this "brand new day")?


A fellow outraged fan brought up the Dragonball series as an adequate example of realistic development in a comic book (yes, kids, Goku's adventures started as a comic before moving to Cartoon Network). Five minute screams and outrageous powerlevels (that go well over 9000) aside, Dragonball and Dragonball Z do have a very well written story. Goku begins the series as a naive twelve year old, having lots of adventures and growing older, stronger, and just a little wiser. By the end of Dragonball, he's in his late teens and proceeds to get married after winning the big tournament.


In the start of Dragonball Z, Goku is a full fledged adult with a four year old son, fighting enemies far stronger and far more dangerous than before, risking everything (including his life, and more than once) to protect his new family. When that series closes, he's a full fledged grandfather that teaches everything he learned to the new generation.


Even though dead characters tend to come back to life as often as in western comics, Japan's premier superhero series still had more guts than Marvel in never undoing a major event or having its main character remain eternally young (granted, there is the matter of Dragonball GT having Goku revert into a child again, but the act is undone once the series closes, and was never a part of Toriyama's original manga regardless). I admit I had reservations watching Peter reach his mid thirties at first, but I would have been willing to accept the change as a natural progress of his life.


At least if the writers didn't insist on making such awful decisions.


I think the ultimate tell-tale sign that Marvel didn't have Peter's best interests in mind was the nixing of their unborn child. When the day came for Mary Jane to give birth to their daughter, the child was diagnosed as stillborn and quietly carried away. Even though the diagnosis was a lie due to Normon Osborn's involvement, Marvel had stated that the child would never be brought back into question again, as they simply didn't like the idea of Peter having a child to raise.


So instead of watching Parker take the time to juggle a child into his already full schedule, webbing a small hammock for her while he reminisces with bedtime stories of how he fought the Sinister Six, and overall establishing a stronger emotional connection for readers (including potential new readers), Joe Q thought it would be much better to revert Peter back into a swinging bachelor with no wife and no kid.


Because magic is so much more fun than character development.


I could go on, but I believe the following image, taken from a fan appreciation of the now dead Spider-Marriage, epitimizes exactly what Marvel gave up in order to keep Spider-Man "fresh".






























It wasn't Peter's marriage that Marvel gave to the Devil.

It was his humanity.