TV series: Dark Matter

Alrighty then… a new one from the factory of SyFy, which became obvious as soon as they started throwing words like FTL and ‘a big metal door, holding secrets’, which to me totally killed the concept of SCIENCE fiction and tosses it into Future Fiction. But do we really need to build in such easy plot points to further the story when the writers have no more original idea’s? To me it doesn’t need to be there, which has been proven in The 100. The whole basics of the story can be fighting for survival while finding your identity.

So from the first episode I gleaned… oh wait… SPOILERS!

The group wakes without any memory of who they are, but still have a perfect working order of the rest of their knowledge. They name themselves in order of awaking and go explore the spaceship they are on, each finding their abilities. Okay, seems legit, and awaken a robot which has direct interface with the ship (where have I seen this before? Oh, wait the Chair!).

Fine. Premise established, and there is even an Asian, a black guy and an underage kid with some kind of visions (blegh, such a cheap tool to use) to fill the  demographics. Fine. I’ll let that slide.

One of the men finds an amulet under his pillow, which turns out to be a symbol on the planet they were heading to from… some guy who would bring help, but the group finds out through reconstruction of the database that they are actually there to wipe out the colony. With their memory wiped they now have a choice, to fight with the colonists against the corporation, or wipe them out.

So yeah… Basic storyline, done a hundred times. But with the look of the set and the camera work being quite decent, it is not that annoying to watch.

For me it is blatantly obvious that they will help the colony and the memory wipe was set up by the guy who promised help. Continuing to watch this series will depend on how long it will take in the next episodes to explain what to me is so blatantly obvious and how much of this ‘vision’ crap they will throw into the mix. This mystical unexplained stuff killed StarGate Universe and for me was frigging annoying in FireFly, though there it brought on some kick-ass fighting scenes.

But we’ll just have to wait and see. This series can go either way, people… this series can go either way.

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Teaser – Here be Dragons

Sometimes I just amaze myself. 🙂Here Be Dragons

“I have burned all my bridges and ships behind me, and found I was on an island. I don’t expect anyone to come and save me, but you… you can still be saved.”
These words keep echoing in my mind, even now, years later. He truly believed he was beyond redemption, while at the same time, without really knowing me at all, believed I was not. But does that by the very definition, not make him worth saving, if he can still believe in the good in people like me?
~ Excerpt of the diary of Anya – ‘Here be Dragons’

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#Rant : #ScienceFiction and the #StarTrek defense

I seem to have a problem when it comes to the word ScienceFiction.

Due to dilution of the term, first coined in 1851 in William Wilson’s A Little Earnest Book Upon A Great Old Subject, most people tend to believe that anything that the ScienceFiction genre deals with any story set in the future. But to me this just feels WRONG!

The word ScienceFiction is made up of two parts, Science and Fiction, fiction meaning ‘not real’ and Science meaning… well… Science! The basis for ScienceFiction should be as it originally was, a not true story based in science, and not scientifically viable stories should be classified as they are: Future Fiction.

StarTrek is a good example for Future Fiction, simply because is features a starship driven by a warp drive with no further explanation than it being a fancy box with blinking lights that somehow magically moves the ship at faster than light speeds. Being able to magically zip across the galaxy is an interesting story-line, but has nothing to do with actual science, just as communicators were invented without any idea how they actually worked, but there was a need to communicate and people were teleported /’beamed’ everywhere because nobody could figure out how do land such a big fucking ship without ! That is not Science, that is Bullcrap! That people who had grown up with the original StarTrek in the end figured out how to make ‘communicators’ (mobile phones) because of a revolution in miniaturization of batteries and transmitters is beside the point! That is Future fiction having an impact on reality, not the other way around! It doesn’t make Gene Roddenberry a visionary (having a vision of what future could be), it just makes him a damn good Fantasy Problemsolver.

Furthermore Steampunk would then be classified in Science Fantasy, as it is based in the past/in a parallel universe where science of the past took a different direction, instead of having a classification simply called ‘Steampunk’ simply because the fans wanted a genre.

Please, I beg of you people, for the love of God, let words mean what they mean and not put something in a classification because it kinda looks like it, because if you push that far enough, all cats and dogs would all be known as dogs simply because they’d have four legs.

You have my thanks, if only because you read this and giving it some thought. Even if you heartily disagree with my bold statements,  at least you are open enough to consider opinions that are different from your own, which is where true learning starts.

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Rant: Storytelling

I got into a discussion yesterday which basically was around the question: What is storytelling? To me the meaning is as the word states: the telling of a story.
But what it doesn’t say is how.

You have basically two options: You can read it out loud from paper or a book, or do it from memory. Hell, you can even do either way while standing on your head if that makes your story more impressive. But to do so without script doesn’t make it more or less impressive, it just makes it more difficult and in my opinion most likely with less depth, with the odd exception here and there, which are people I deeply respect.
But unless you have something to tell which creates a real, deep, impact and are able to convey this to the audience, you do not have a story. That is why by my definition most script-less Storytelling is just Standup Improv, an attempt to be funny by regaling something you did in a funny way and get a cheap laugh.

And what you most of all DON’T do is to make fun of other storytellers doing it in a different way, or tell them they should adhere to your way or be considered less than you are. I am letting you do your thing, so why can’t you just let me do mine. Because all of that cocking and posturing has nothing to do with the actual telling of a story, which is why we came together in the first place, to tell a story.

But most of all: You do not get to set the rules on what is and what isn’t Storytelling and that doing it from memory is better than doing it from paper, simply because you are able to do something someone else can’t. You can have your personal opinions about the matter, but just don’t bother me with it, just I never told you that I think you are doing it wrong and that your stories have no depth or impact, that you, in fact, are just acting the clown. There is no definition of Storytelling apart from how a couple of people do it or have done it in the past, and only the owner of an establishment which allows Storytelling has any say in what belongs on his stage and what does not.

So the next person to tell me I am not good enough as a Storyteller as I read from paper because due to Autism it is impossible for me to actually regale it from memory as I am inherently confused just about all the time, and yes, thanks for not getting in touch with me and actually check WHY I don’t do what you think I should do, can from this point on receive a thorough and heartfelt ‘Go Fuck Yourself’ as an answer. I am a published author. What have you actually done with your life apart from being a judgmental b*tch??

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Noticeboard: Correction #autism #autismchat

I posted recently that I have no friends and do not get invited to parties… This was untrue. There is one who actually still keeps inviting me though knowing I’ll be unlikely to be there as I have a problem with crowds. But that doesn’t stop her from inviting me. Thanks for that. Being Autistic isn’t always easy, but being excluded is even harder. So if you like me just the way I am and can accept no as an answer, please do keep inviting me. I just might surprise you and actually show up. 🙂

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Mini-story: Scene at Starbucks

A little Storytelling piece I wrote which will probably never make it on stage… But still I don’t want to just throw it away.

Scene at Starbucks

There is a girl
In front of the Starbucks coffeeshop
She huddles in her coat,
Under the canopy of the shop,
Clearly cold as she is dressed
Way too skimpily
For this dreary weather.
She can’t be more than 20 years of age
As though her heavy make-up
Is trying to hide her age,
Her walk, her build, her face,
Cannot hide the fact.

And I am inside
Where it is warm
My hands clasping round
my momentarily forgotten
Hot cappuccino
With caramel
And those little sprinkles
I can never remember the name of
But which I love so very very much.

She walks up and down
in front of the window
and then she sees
my gaze following her
and she stops
and stares at me.
I give her a smile
And offer her coffee
She hesitates,
Looks at the drizzling rain
Frowns,
And shakes her head no.
I offer her my umbrella
She again refuses.
Then she rubs her fingers together at me
And suddenly it hits me.
Her clothes,
Her make-up,
Why she is out there,
How she wants money.
She is a prostitute.
I shrug and shake my head
And she turns,
Ignoring me one more.

Then a car pulls up in front of the shop
Which is a strange pace to stop
She walks out
Talks to the man behind the wheel for a moment
And then gets in.
Leaving me behind
In stunned silence.

And as I look up
I see the waitress watching me
In curious interest.
And so I shrug
And she shrugs
As she rolls in the canopy
And when she is done I smile at her,
Giving her a nod in understanding
And she shyly smiles back.

I open a new page of my notebook
And start writing once more,
This time about what I just have seen
As I take another sip
From my hot cappuccino
With caramel
And those little sprinkles
I can never remember the name of
But which I love so very very much,
And find it tastes
Even sweeter than before.

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Personal: the dreams I dream

Last night I had one of those reoccurring dreams again and just in a vein attempt to exercise the demons, I decided to write down what I remember in the other I remembered them.

First thing is a remaining trail of this song, which I woke up with.

Most people will know it from Kill Bill, a movie by Quentin Tarantino starring David Carradine and Uma Thurman (who got old fast by the way… sheesh). But that’s not what the dream is about. Though the movie was fine, I found it overplayed and not that gripping as a story arc. But that’s material for a different blog.

Next thing I remember is my old motorcycle, which I had when I was 18 to about 25. I loved that thing, even though it needed repairs often as about every weekend I was fixing things on it to keep it running.

I am driving along with a girl on a bicycle, but somehow she is much faster than me and disappears now and then to scout ahead, to return and know the way. Though I know she is looking for a specific place and I am just along for the ride in a city I have never been before, I find it hard to see her speed off time and time again, every time being relieved when she returns. And then I find myself at a fork in the road and she is nowhere to be seen. I have to guess which way she headed and turn right, but she is nowhere to be seen as I drive through the neighborhood. So I return to the intersection, but she is not there. So I turn left. Nothing. And so, after more looking around I decide to drive to a train station and take a train home. But the train station is up a very narrow flight of spiraling stairs and I push and push the bike up those stairs, unwilling to leave it behind, unwilling to rely on others to help me pick it up later with a car. Half way up I find there is an elevator also, but the bike doesn’t fit in it and so there is more pushing up stairs until I reach the platform, to find it deserted, no trains, and by the sign it doesn’t seem there will be one coming either. There is an old man there though, me at a much older age as I am now, and he just stares at me for a while as his stare gives me a feeling of dread, believing he has been all this time, waiting for the train that never came. Then he says “It isn’t what you expected, is it.” and then I wake, dizzy and confused, and the music plays.

Now I know that everything you dream relates back onto the dreamer. Every person is you and every item has a personal significance.  The dream tells me that I cannot let go of my past, but I have no room for it either; that I am dragging it along needlessly, but cannot let go as without it I lose my sense of who I am, what I stand for and what makes me happy. But at the same time it drives me in a straight line into a future I will always wait for ‘the train that never comes’, a futile hope of getting to the place where I belong and feel comfortable, because generally I don’t.

So… yeah. What can I say about that…

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