The Old Ones and me

It's time for another genre and medium transcending, geek out session. Today's unexpected connections concern the 'Old Ones' (not to be confused with the geriatric legions) as featured in H.P Lovecraft's, weird tales.


The 'Old Ones,' including the famous Cthulu, are God like beings from outer space, another dimension, or wherever, its not really made clear. Suffice to say they're big, malicious and will drive you mad. At some point, way back, they ruled this little globe.

"You know what killed off the dinosaurs, Whateley? We did. In one barbecue." - Neil Gaiman, 'What's A Tentacle-Faced Thing Like Me Doing In A Sunken City Like This'

Then for whatever reason they had to go to ground, under ground, deep under the ocean. Most of Lovecraft's stories that mention the Old Ones, are usually about a cult or some other kind of servant(s) attempting to bring them back.


Reminded of the 'Old Ones,' I unconsciously searched for any references in my pop culture library (brain). How I remembered the following is a mystery, and I should probably be worried. Before we get started, an 'Old One,' in the context of this post, needs to be at least a bit slimy or crustacean like, to count. They can't just be err, old. Lets get started:

In the Warcraft universe, there's a pretty straight forward homage to the Old Ones:

"The Old Gods (aka, Old Ones, elder beings, dark elders) were malevolent deities who ruled Azeroth in the ancient past...Soon, the Titans defeated the Old Gods, then chained the raging beings beneath the earth where supposedly, they remain to this day."


The Twilight Cult found in WoW are similar to the Cthulhu Mythos Cults. The Murlocs (genius) are based on Lovecraft's Deep Ones.

In the Myth universe, Ghouls are said to worship 'Dark Gods.' The genesis story for the world of Myth is similar to that of Warcraft: there was chaos, Dark Gods lived it up and then a being of order came and ruined the party, trapping them somewhere.

"It is they alone who remember the names of the dark gods." - Ghoul flavor text, Myth II

B'Y'laggo is also unpronounceable enough to qualify as an 'Old One.'

" ... little is known of the bre'Unor, a fir'Bolg word referring to the various head-cults of The Ermine, aside from their fanatical devotion to the profane elemental spirit, b'Y'laggo..." -bre'Unor Flavor Text, Myth II


Terry Pratchett mocks Lovecraft's 'Old Ones' in the Discworld book, The Colour of Magic:

"The temple [of Bel-Shamharoth] is long since abandoned, worship of the Sender of Eight being a decidedly short term prospect. These days he is mostly remembered in the name of the Young Men's Reformed-Cultists-of-the-Ichor-God Bel-Shamharoth Association."

In Mike Mignola's, Hellboy series, the Ogdru Jahad bare a close resemblance and alignment to Old Ones:

"...the Ogdru Jahad are serpentine/crustacean entities which once resided on, and presided over, Earth. They are pitiless, chaotic, bent on destruction and subjugation and often so horrific in appearance that the mere sight of one of them sometimes induced madness...Some of the monsters were forced out of their bodies and into the wind, while others were entombed in the earth."


In the fantastic (poo your pants) game, Eternal Darkness, 'The Ancients,' act as antagonists in the plot and are part of the game mechanic too. They are a clear adaptation of the Old Ones:

"...the concept of the "Ancients" is a clear homage to Lovecraft's innumerable cast of monstrous, malign, godlike entities who manipulate humanity in a scheme to eventually enslave the world. Many of the deities and spells have similar sounding names, while Inspector LeGrasse was the name of a character in Lovecraft's The Call of Cthulhu."


And to finish, Neil Gaiman:

You feeling lucky, cyber/steam/bio/ punk?

With countless youth movements failing to bring down the establishment over the years, it follows that the establishment will remain a prominent force for the present and near future. Its proliferation might well lead us to…

Cyberpunk:

Wrought from the pages of William Gibson, Alfred Bester, Bruce Sterling etc Cyberpunk brings together all the rebellious anti-corporate/government sentiment inspired by the Punk movement of the 70s but places it in a post-industrial dystopia where mega corporations, corruption and a breakdown in the social order are prevalent.


If you’ve seen Blade Runner, the Matrix (because we don’t talk about the other two, in the same way we don’t mention the second Star Wars trilogy) A Scanner Darkly or Ghost in the Shell, then you’ll have a good understanding of a cyberpunk tone and setting. If you imagine Cyberpunk as the daddy, then these sub-genres are its bastard, steamy, gene-spliced, offspring:

Steampunk:

Often set in 19th century England or a world where steam power is still the main source of energy. They tend to be less obviously dark than cyberpunk, encapsulating more of the positive, arrogance of the Victorian era, well, among the Victorians at any rate.


The Difference Engine by Bruce Sterling and William Gibson, is a ‘what if’ Steampunk story. What if Charles Babbage succeeded in his ambition to build a mechanical computer and brought about the computer revolution a hundred years earlier? Suffice to say, Britain and the world become a very different place.

Biopunk:

Is usually set in the present or the future where genetics have advanced to extraordinary and scary new heights. Often propagated by a megalomaniacal visionary. A good example of Biopunk; Bioshock and Gattaca.


There are more sub-genres but these are too niche-core to bother mentioning. Niche, a nicer way of saying lonesome.

Jericho and Dr Bloodmoney

Jericho is the unfolding story of a rural town in Kansas. The town is cut off after a series of nuclear explosions knock out major cities across the U.S. The concept resonated in the dark catacombs of my mind, responsible for memory, as similar to a Philip K (I took the GDP of a small country’s worth of amphetamines but it’s ok because Sci-Fi books didn’t sell for that much back then) Dick, title, Dr. Bloodmoney.


The citizenry of Jericho spend most of their time trying to discover the cause of the attacks and plan for basic survival. whereas the inhabitants in Dr. Bloodmoney are in no doubt that things can never go back to the way they were.

Dr. Bloodymoney definitely veers more into the traditional Sci-Fi vain. There are paranormal characters some as a direct cause of the radioactive fallout. By far one of the most unnerving characters is a small girl who wouldn’t be out of place as the star of a shock documentary, something like, The Girl Who Could Kill Things With Her Brain. She houses the embryo of her unborn twin who can communicate with her and has the ability to psychically project himself. The way Dick describes the latter ability made me think of a small white turd hurtling through the air. See, unnerving.Survival also extends to preserving the idea of civilised society. Those educated with engineering or foraging skills are regarded as first class citizens. As a result of the deterioration in infrastructure and supplies of luxury items, one character even sets up a small factory where he employs people to find discarded cigarette butts and masterly remake them. This sent a shiver down my spine as I realised, once when inebriated, I too had done the cigarette butt scrounging method, even without a mushroom cloud shadowing me. Truly, nuclear Armageddon and alcohol are the twin evils of our time.

Dr Bloodmoney plays out like a soap opera, with a few paranormal characters thrown in. It's as if one of the characters in your favourite soap overhears the details of an affair with their mind! It's that good. The plot explores what it would be like when a society has to contend with both its most base impulses whilst trying desperately to hold on to a sense of civilization. A bit like now really. I’m only half way through Jericho but it’s playing out much the same albeit with sci-fi lite elements.

The Stars My Destination and Jumper

Jumper is about a group of people with the ability to ‘jump’ to any location on the planet. Useless geek knowledge: It’s a similar ability that both Nightcrawler and Blink have in the X-Men universe. More than anything, it reminds me of, Alfred Bester’s, ‘The Stars My Destination.’


The Stars My Destination is like the drunk grandfather of what would become the cyberpunk genre. It’s one of the earliest science fiction novels I’ve read that deals with a dystopian future that includes: biological and technological enhancement, mega corporations and tribal sub-societies.

In Star’s, the jumping ability is known as jaunting. Since every person on the planet has the ability to go anywhere it raises some interesting socio-political issues. There is no longer a permanent work force; therefore projects tend not to make their deadline unless employees are part of an industrial family, imagine the Murdoch or Trump dynasty reaching far into the future; it’s the same depressing concept.


Living spaces no longer need to be centralised. One of the characters lives in a high-rise building in the middle of a forest. Tramps, drug addicts and vagrants can now bust-a-move, no longer restricted to street corners; large tribal migrations are common.

Jaunting is only one ingenious facet of a truly remarkable story. Despite being written in the 50s, The Stars My Destination can jaunt in, slap around any contemporary narrative and jaunt out again before the author can look up another word for 'ouch' in the thesaurus. Go read it now, look there’s even a link!

Story driven: MMOs versus single player

I like conclusion. Finality. That’s not to say a story has to have a definitive ending but if something happens, I take it to have happened forever. That notion extends to films, TV, books, games etc once I’ve watched, read, played it, it’s happened. Defeating the enemy, the death of a character, whatever, once it’s been fused into my grey matter it becomes as permanent as the stain near the cat litter box.

Every single player game I’ve ever played has been resolved. I can talk to others and they can confirm these virtual events, like two mental patients finding something tangible in a world of shadows. Most of the time, when you’ve killed the evil aliens, monster, king and the game gives you the option to carry on playing, it’s sometimes to comply to the OCD completists amongst us, other times it’s included for those with low self esteem, who can be congratulated over and over again by mindless non-player characters, singing their praises for saving them and the virtual world they reside in.


The idea of people/players experiencing narratives together is demonstrated strongest in MMOs. In games such as Battlefield or Quake Wars the story acts simply as a motivation, beyond the base human need for competition and destruction. A game like World of Warcraft or Tabula Rasa rely more heavily on the narrative to move the gaming world forward, that and people’s need to get the best ‘loot’ for ‘bragging rights’ purposes.

What’s jarring to my irrational need for conclusion, is the idea of ‘respawning.’ It’s an essential game mechanic in MMOs that allows all players to attempt to kill the same end of dungeon boss or pick up object a) and take it to place b) but because of this very mechanic there can never be a sense of completion.


I’m all for replayability but only in the full knowledge that I know what happens at the conclusion of that game. I enjoyed playing Myth II over and over but I was always aware of what was going to happen next and how ultimately the villain was going to go down. It seems odd that a game like WoW can bring out new expansion packs with impressive trailers, that have villain x taunting, now it’s my turn, blah, blah, blah, when you and anyone else can retrace your steps and every bastard you wasted so many hours, gathering the right equipment for, mastering your skills etc can still be there smirking a pixalated smile. You can’t talk about a dynamically changing virtual world when so many aspects are so blatantly static.

Offspring rat out parents on social networking sites

It’s like the end of Fatherland all over again. If you’re not familiar with the Robert Harris book or the TV adaptation staring Rutger Hauer, basically the Axis (the real one, not the George W. Bush one) won the Second World War. The Nazi’s have surpassed themselves in oppression. A detective discovers a plot that could cause Hitler quite an upset on his 60th birthday. I’m sort of spoiling the end but when it looks like our hero might succeed, his own son reports him to the secret police.


That’s one end of the jackboot (the pointy end) but the other is happening right now. More and more parents albeit in the US mostly, are finding that what their children say on social networking sites is coming back to stamp on them like the other end of the aforementioned jackboot.

“Many families are getting hurt according to internet safety expert Parry Aftab.

‘I've represented a lot of parents who've come to me when they have been fired, they've been demoted, or they've been called on the carpet because of what their kids posted online,’ Attab said.”

If I were you, I’d get your children to implement all the privacy options available; otherwise it’s the knock at the door in the middle of the night for you.

Ocean Observatories Initiative aka Sealab 2021

John Delaney, a professor at the University of Washington is working on the Ocean Observatories Initiative (OOI.) The OOI plans to lay cables across the ocean bed to study the way tsunamis occur and how oceans regulate the planet's ecosystem.


It means mad or maybe just normal scientists and marine biologists will be able to study the deep from their lush cubicles instead of having to brave the open waters.

I can already tell you what lurks in the deep: The Deep Ones and Cthulhu! Don’t go down there fools, tsunami knowledge isn’t worth risking their wrath!

A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian

Despite a pseudo-turrets tendency to talk about Chernobyl, here at I’m not dead/Is alive we’ve only ever had three visits from the Ukraine/Ukrania. So today I hope to boost this by discussing the novel, A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian.

I can’t ever remember reading a novel as quickly as I did this, and it wasn’t due to an improvement in my child like reading age or severe boredom either. The story takes place mainly in Peterborough in the early 1990s and follows two squabbling second-generation siblings as they unite against a common enemy. Their mother has recently passed away leaving feelings of guilt in the younger sister Nadia (the peace time baby), greed and self-righteousness in the elder sister Vera (the war time baby.)


The conflict initially arises out of their mother’s inheritance, which was to be divided by the two sisters equally. But through Vera’s nagging on her mother’s deathbed, she manages to get it divided by the three grand children instead, Vera having two children to Nadia's one.

They cease communicating after a massive row at the funeral. The silence isn’t broken until their crack pot father, a once brilliant engineer, who’s eccentricities have got the better of him, announces that he has been seeing a Ukrainian woman more than half his age, with intentions to marry her.



Comedy ensues, as the ideologically apposed sisters unite to defeat the ‘tart.’ Themes cover everything from marriages of convenience, tractors, the war, the insanity of the UK immigration system and the cultural differences between the UK and the Ukraine both now and then. It’s a shame that we don’t get to learn more about the current state of the Ukraine as the book focuses more on telling the story of Nadia’s parents Ukraine during Soviet occupation and the Second World War. The only mention of modern Ukraine comes from throw away comments like, “It’s run by gangsters and prostitutes” or, “Our best and brightness seek a better life in the West.”

It’s an enjoyable read and if the accolades strewn all over the front and back covers isn’t enough, you do learn a lot about the history of tractors, which is more interesting than it sounds.

There’s something about Murlocs

I don’t know where these fascinations come from. A while ago it was Mind Flayers and now its Murlocs. It could have something to do with finishing, 'The Call of Cthulu and Other Weird Tales' by H.P Lovecraft. The Murloc’s are creatures from the ridiculously successful, cash sea cow, that is World of Warcraft. They're fish men that live in huts and make a gurgling, foaming noise, like they’ve just tasted some Strongbow.

The Murloc’s are heavily influenced by H.P Lovercraft’s The Deep Ones, as mentioned in stories like 'The Shadow Over Innsmouth,' which I’d highly recommend if you’ve never read a Lovecraft story before. It’ll make you think twice about visiting Blackpool and other seaside towns, not that you wouldn’t anyway.

I dunno, maybe I just want to live at the bottom of the sea…not if it involved the cast of The Little Mermaid though. Any singing and I’d let off depth charges and boil up Sebastian’s remains.

Starcraft, Warhammer 40k and Starship Troopers

What have they got in common? Space, aliens, humans as militaristic, self-serving assholes and they all make me want to join up with the army. I’d quickly be killed of course, in some kind of embarrassing accident, like having a grenade drop from my belt and land in the toilet bowl I was using.

Starcraft – Terrans

The descendants of a thousand generations of rude boys, chavs, crack fiends, sent to the ends of the galaxy, accidentally colonizing a far off world, a galactic Australia. It’s a little bit worrying that Blizzard predicts that in the distant future, we will not only being speaking with a Confederate twang but also take on much of the xenophobic culture too.


The Zerg

An experiment by ancient beings to create the ultimate life form. It seems to me, that if I were part of an ancient race that had mastered space travel, nay, the very building blocks of life, I’d spend my time creating the ‘ultimate massage life form’ or ‘the ultimate sexual pleasure life form,’ something useful. It’s in the name, ‘ultimate’ life form, that there’s a good chance these creatures will baulk off their shackles and annihilate you.

Still, they are fun to play. If you’ve ever imagined what its like to control a hive of ants, wasps, termites etc then this is the army of destruction for you. How can you say no to a giant eye called the Overmind? It’s a trick question, you can’t, it has mind control.


The Protoss.

Yeah, yeah, pro and toss. Ancient but not as ancient as the ancients I mentioned before. Confused? They too were created as the ultimate life form but ultimately said, ‘piss off, I’m having a good time being psychic and having cool light blades.’ Pragmatic and spiritual, the Protoss were always my favourite race but as I become more disillusioned, I like destroying everything with the Zerg.



Next, Warhammer 40K

Imperium

Humans in the 41st Centaury are a lot like now: Xenophobic, religious, superstitious warmongers and there’s far too many of them. Humanity spreads across the cosmos until crossing paths with alien species that want to rumble in a genocidal way.

Humanity is lead by a crippled and ancient Emperor who sits on Earth in the most pimped out chair imaginable. It’s bigger than that tower they’re building in Dubai.

Things aren’t groovy and we’re constantly at war but it’s all right because there are so many people to throw at the war effort chances are we’ll win eventually. The Empire is very similar to the Terran Domain from Starcraft. Both have advanced technology that still manages to convey a look of imperfection and bodged togetherness. In both instances you get the feeling that the universe might be better off without humanity, due in part, to its corruption and moral ambiguity.


Tyranids

Based largely on Hans Ruedi Giger designs for the anorexic Alien from the Alien series, (he also makes bony furniture) they are bio-engineered insects from outer space, B-movietastic.


Invading the Milk Way for raw materials, but not finding any chocolate bars, they started attacking everything else instead. The Tyranids and Zerg are almost exactly the same. Both operate like a hive society with complete obedience to the Hive mind. Both seek to consume as much genetic material as possible, assimilating new species into the fold.


The Eldar

They look a bit like Elves, Tolkien not Father Christmas. They’re pretty ancient too and technologically advanced enough that they just want to piss about and enjoy themselves. This larking about nearly got them wiped out though. All that debauchery and raw enjoyment was being made corporal in another dimension. That build up of ‘chaos’ energy ripped through into our universe with the force of a thousand exploding suns.

It’s sort of the equivalent of Las Vegas, New Orleans (when it was still dry and partyable) and lets say, Ibiza, all being erased from the map, Sodom and Gomorrah style.

Not physically similar to the Protoss, they do share a lot of the same cultural and spiritual values as well as an arrogance when dealing with 'younger races.' I’m like that with anyone under twenty, ‘shouldn’t you be chasing the horse or firing up the dragon, you yoots!’

The Eldar are a Baptist Preacher's wet dream. Sin and you risk tearing the universe apart.



Finally, Starship Troopers

Terran Federation

A militaristic world government controls everything. You only get to vote for the equivalent of the world president, and then only if you’ve completed federal service.


The Arachnids

Again, just like the Tyranids and the Zerg, in fact like all insectoid species.

The Arachnids have a ‘brain bug’ that looks like a giant blister and has a mouth like a vagina. I’m glad to say that unlike a vagina the brain bug can suck out your brain through a bio-straw, learning valuable information about the enemy. Good times.

Sadly, there is no equivalent to the Protoss or Eldar in Starship Troopers, as that would have added a neat symmetry to all this rambling. My tea’s cold, this is over.

I AM LEGEND, will smith is not

I just finished watching the trailer for 'I AM LEGEND' and it bloody well deserves the capitalization. Not the trailer but the anaemia inducing, geniusness of the book, that the soon to be released film is based on. I am willing to chop off and send pieces of my body (to prove my love) until all that is left is my head in a jar, as I'd still be able to read this book.


I AM LEGEND follows the post-apocalyptic story of Robert Neville as he eats, drinks, tries to sleep and listens to Mozart. Things are incredibly hostile in Neville's world, like a Chechnyan rebel in Moscow. Anyone and everyone have turned, for all intensive purposes, into vampires. The vampire context is used as a mechanic to explore Neville's and therefore, our own, psychological state at seeing his loved ones become monsters and the savagery that society at large can descend to when things look completely hopeless.



What I found most compelling is the real, everyday stuff Neville has to deal with: How do I get food, how am I going to power my home, what do I do to past the haunted days and the terrifying nights? I AM LEGEND is a very short story, the darkness and despair of being the last man alive never becomes boring. If its not your veins bursting with the sheer amount of adrenaline surging through them when Neville gets stuck far from his home fortress with the sun setting, then its the agonising moments of self reflection as Neville comes to terms with being the last man alive.

The story is dark and the rare moments of humour are as black as my beating heart. Which is why it nearly burst when I heard a few months ago that it would be Will Smith playing the part of Neville. Will Smith is not a serious actor. He's as serious as being held hostage by Ghandi. I dread to think of the brain gagging one-liners he's put into my beloved story, 'hey vamps do you like stake!'


I have no choice about seeing it but for every time Mr. Smith does something to piss on my mental image of Neville and the story as a whole, I’ll defecate and throw it at his arrogant face. I'll be hitting a projected image but his image none the less! Go read I AM LEGEND now before the Smith bastardization is the only reference burnt into your frontal lobes.

Yo ho ho and a bottle of Scumm, yum.

A lot of the skullduggery that takes place in Ron Gilbert's, Monkey Island series is based largely on Tim Powers', On Stranger Tides. Monkey I and II were/are amazing. In the first, you’re looking to get a reputation, like many hood rats are nowadays, except you have to use insults and your brain, not a gatt and some crack.

Then arrrr, you've got the treasure and everything looks pieces of eight by the beginning of the second installment. Drawing upon the hood rat analogy; you get mugged right at the start. However, you are left with a cool beard which sadly, still isn't enough to get served in the piratey drink holes.

You'd think IDing would be the least of your worries if you were in charge of the Hope & Anchor, (Hopeless Wanker) if it was regular, for your regulars to get in the way of cutlass edges and ball shot. You don't want to drink the booze anyway; it’s more corrosive than the brown bottle Sid the tramp carries outside Tescos. Scumm is a good name for a drink. It implies who should drink it and what it’ll taste like.

Similarities between the book and games include: Voodoo dolls (which are actually a Christian folklore practice from the Netherlands, I think) zombie pirates, salty sea dogs (why not wash them off?) ladies that appear to need saving, colourful characters (that's not racist) and treachery.

That's as far as I've got, I’m afraid. I'm more used to reading, 'Jill sat on the matt next to her DEMONIC cat...' This is what Whackoffpedia calls a stub; I'd call it a snub to you, the readers. Before making me walk the blankedy blank, I’m pretty ill today which means:

a) I'll read more of the book now and can expand your grey goop with my findings.

b) If you're empathetic, don't try and feed me chicken soup through the monitor or disc drive. Send it over Voodoo Express, Royal Mail's shit these days.

There's just something about Mind Flayers

I first came across the Illithid as named (by geeks) whilst playing Baldur's Gate II. There's a whole section where they've captured your group and you need to flee off fast, less they literally feast on your brill encased brain.


I found it the most 'keyboard smashing' part of the whole game. The squidies can control members of your group with telekinesis! Its like Tony Blair all over again. I assume a major inspiration for the design for my multi-tentacled friends is the Cult of Cthulhu by H.P Lovecraft. Cuthlu is the monstrous guardian of the Old Ones a bit like the Axis of Evil but genuinely dangerous. He just happens to have a squid head. Like the Axis just happens to have oil. 'Squid head,' lets get that being used in playgrounds across the country: "Errrr, squid head, squid head! What you gonna do squiddy, spray ink at me?!"

*consumes brain*