In Defense of Rifts

As I stated in a previous entry, I am a gamer geek. I've been playing tabletop Role-Playing Games for nearly half my life now, and been part of the same gaming group for 6 years now. Some of the faces may change, but two original members and myself have been there pretty much consistently, and we've been playing at the same place for over 5 of those years. I cut my teeth on Palladium Books titles, such as Heroes Unlimited.

Palladium is pretty much unheard of outside of gamer circles, and even many in the loop haven't heard of the company. They've had some modest successes, such as owning the licenses for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (though that series is now out of print) and Robotech/Macross RPGs. Their flagship title, however, and the one that really got me into RPGs, is Rifts. Rifts is an RPG built on a truly epic scale. The basic setting is a Post-Apocalyptic Earth, though many books include settings on other planets, and even a space opera setting in a far-flung universe. It contains elements of Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Cyberpunk, just about any setting you can think of.

And really, that's what attracted me to the game. As I often tell people, in Rifts you can make just about anything. You can be a cybernetic ninja, fighting alongside a wizard firing bolts from a magic gun, a medieval knight on a robotic horse, and an alien psychic riding a dinosaur. It may sound like the product of an overactive child's imagination, but that's one of the things I really like about the game. It lets me cut loose with my imagination in ways that I can't with any other game.I can throw in something that would be absolutely ridiculous in any other setting, but as long as I can make it work and the players dig it, it's cool.

It's a sad fact, however, that a lot of my fellow gamers are stigmatized against Rifts. The game has a reputation, probably not entirely unearned, for being a haven for hack and slash power gaming and Munchkinism. There's a number of reasons for this.

First, and probably most important, is Mega-Damage (M.D.). Basically, M.D. is a game rule used in Rifts and a couple other games (like Robotech) to account for damage far in excess of what would be possible in a normal game, without having to deal with large unwieldy numbers. All Palladium games have what's called S.D.C. (Structural Damage Capacity), which is equivalent to Hit Points in other games. Lets say Joe Average on the street has 20 SDC. One point of M.D. is equal to 100 SDC, meaning that even one point of M.D. would completely obliterate poor Joe.

What a lot of people will tell you Rifts is all about

In Rifts, pretty much all the armor and weaponry in the game (including natural armor and weapons of supernatural creatures) is calculated in M.D. So, this means that even a first-level character makes a modern-day Main Battle Tank look like a pea-shooter made of tissue paper by comparison. Obviously, to hack-and-slashers and Munchkins, this is a wet dream. This aspect of the game was even parodied in an April Fools article, by the creator of the game himself, where the fictional Giga-Damage was unveiled, along with new weapons with stats like "Range: The circumference of the Earth, minus 10 feet, so you don't shoot yourself in the back."

Also, there's the matter of game balance. Kevin Siembieda, the creator of Rifts, has gone on record as stating, in his opinion, "balanced" does not mean that every character operates on the same power level. He feels game balance is more an issue of equality of opportunity; that is, in a well-constructed game, every player has a chance to shine and use his character's particular talents. So a character can go out right from the start and get the biggest, most powerful gun and strongest armor he can lay his hands on.

And, there's the issue of Power Creep. It's the one facet of Rifts that's probably gotten as much, if not more, coverage than M.D. In my opinion, at least, the problem isn't as big as people claim. I still make characters using classes and equipment from the first book, and haven't found myself overwhelmed or underpowered. Hell, the Glitter Boy, which is cited as being the single most overpowered item in the game, comes from the first book.

As I said, all the above claims about Rifts are true, if exaggerated. You can play a Rifts game as a strictly hack-and-slash kill-em-all bloodfest. And if that's the kind of game you wanna play, knock yourself out. But you don't have to, and in all my years playing Rifts, I've never run or played a straight-out "shoot everything that moves and blow up everything that doesn't" game. I don't have anything against them, that's just not my style. There's just as much room for role-playing in Rifts as in any other RPG. I think what happens is that the ones who talk about Rifts the loudest are the gun bunny hardware lovers, who go on and on about all the ways to kill someone available in Rifts. And like in any group, it's the loudmouths you hear. And so it's assumed that anyone and everyone playing Rifts must be like that.

We've had power gamers in our group. We've had Muchkins. We've had min-maxers. And ironically (or perhaps not), they were usually the least effective members of our group. Why? Several reasons. One, they were each and to a man focused on making his character as physically powerful as he could. They'd buy the most powerful weapons, get whatever equipment they thought would make them more potent combatants (for an example, see the "I want two arms" story in my post "Space the Rodian"). They focused totally on being hellions in battle, while ignoring the fact that there was way more to the game than encounters. Plus, like any munchkin, if they couldn't kill an enemy in a single blow (one-shotting, we called it), or if they took any damage whatsoever, they'd get huffy and lose any and all battle effectiveness they had. I can't understand why a guy who spent months of game and real time building and designing his character so that he had M.D. numbering in the thousands would then raise a fit over taking 5 points of damage. Wasn't that the whole point, so that you wouldn't have to worry about a few measly points?

Most of all, they fell into a very common trap. They looked only at the numbers when it came to their equipment. Take the afore-mentioned Glitter Boy for example. A Glitter Boy is a suit of Power Armor (sort of a halfway step between an exoskeleton like Iron Man and Mecha like found in Robotech or Battletech) designed to be the most powerful single-person assault vehicle on Earth. It gets its name from its laser-resistant armor, which is highly-polished and glitters in the sun. As far as stats go, it has more armor and its rail gun can do more damage than any other piece of equipment in the game usable by a single character. It was built using late 21st Century technology (from right before the Great Cataclysm that transformed the Earth into the game's Post-Apocalyptic setting), and is so durable and powerful that some of those original suits, handed down from parent to child, are still being used 300 years later.

If a battle in Rifts were nothing more than two groups standing in front of each other and firing away like some Revolutionary War battle, the Glitter Boy would win, hands down. If it were just a matter of rolling dice and writing down the results, the battle would be over before it was started. Some Rifts groups have stated that they won't even allow Glitter Boys in their party for that reason. Other groups state that no one in their group will play a Glitter Boy because they're useless. How can both these statements be true? It all depends on how you're playing the game.

Along with it's strengths, Glitter Boys have a lot of weaknesses. Compared to other suits of power armor, they're ponderously slow. While their rail gun (called a Boom Gun) is massively powerful, it's also the only weapon the suit has. If it gets destroyed, the Glitter Boy pilot has no other way to fight than hand-to-hand combat, which the Glitter Boy is not suited for at all. Plus, the Boom Gun gets it's name because the shells it fires are electromagnetically accelerated to such a rate that they surpass MACH 2 before leaving the barrel. The resultant sonic boom is so loud that anyone within 150' (including the Glitter Boy's companions) is deafened for several minutes afterward. And worst of all, the gun has such a massive kick that the suit has to drive pylons 10' into the ground and fire recoil-suppressing thrusters every time it fires to keep the suit (and pilot) from being thrown to the ground. This means that while firing, the suit is completely immobile, a big fat target. And since the suit is so notorious, both in game and out, it's likely to be the prime target of the opposing side. That's not even to mention the fact that there's only a few places on Rifts Earth that can reload or repair a Glitter Boy.

From my copy of the Limited Gold Edition of the main book

There's a lot more I could go into, but basically it all boils down to this. Rifts doesn't have to be about who's got the biggest gun or who can soak up the most damage. Like any role-playing game, it can have just as much battle, intrigue, storyline, etc. that you want it to have. So, if you get a chance to play Rifts, don't turn it down out of hand because you "don't like power gaming." Give it a try. You might find you like it.

-Long Days and Pleasant Nights

A Week in Boston

Back in July, I went on vacation to Boston. And it's been about this long since I've been able to think about the trip without cringing. Not that anything bad happened during the trip, aside from me losing my DS in O'Hare.

That was a real bummer, but it was nothing compared to what happened upon my return. We had literally just walked in the door from our return flight to find the basement of our house, where I live, flooding. We've had floods before, and normally it amounted to little more than puddles and me spending a couple hours mopping up. Thism however, was a deluge. By the next morning, my basement had over three feet of water in it. Fortunately, I lost very few of my personal possessions, as previous floods had taught me to leave nothing on the floor, but it was still a loss. I slept on the floor of my sister's part of the house for almost two months.

But that's another story, and a sad one that I don't wish to go into presently. I intend to focus on the positive; namely, the fun time I had in Boston. We went there to visit my cousin Tami and her husband Denny,* as well as my young first cousins once removed Noah and Lilah. Noah will be turning three soon, and his sister Lilah was about 8 months old at the time we visited. While there, we did some sight-seeing, normal tourist stuff.

Here's one thing that I can't explain about myself. I am terrified of heights. If I'm any higher than two or three stories in a building, I won't go within five feet of a window. But I love flying. Put me in a plane, and I will spend the entire trip staring out the nearest window like a blind man who has just been granted the gift of sight. The only explanation I can come up with is that I feel safer sitting in a plane than standing by a window in a building.

Noah and myself

Noah was a lot of fun, if a bit too much at times. One thing that amused me to no end was that he had trouble remembering who I am. He's only seen me a couple times, and the last time was last Christmas, which is a long time ago for someone who isn't even three years old yet. For the first couple days, he confused me for my cousin and as a result would refer to me as "Uncle Jim." An understandable mistake from his perspective: Jim and I are barely six months apart in age, are of similar builds, and while we don't look alike, I imagine we must have a family resemblance. Noah understood that I was a male family member who wasn't one of his grandparents, so I must be Uncle Jim. Q.E.D. I corrected him each time, which seemed to cause even more confusion. A pattern soon established, as follows:

"Uncle Jim!"
"I'm not Uncle Jim. I'm your cousin Eric."
<beat> "Where's Uncle Jim?"
"He's in Chicago."

I think the last bit is what really threw him for a loop. He was born and lived the first year or so of his life in Switzerland, and probably only vaguely remembers that. By comparison, he was in Chicago to see us maybe twice, and only one of those times was he old enough to walk and talk. He probably had no idea what I was talking about when I said "Chicago," which my mom confirmed when she told me that I should just say "He's at his house."

My sister Jessi and Lilah

Lilah, on the other hand, being less than a year old, wasn't bothered by such trivialities as who the hell we all were. At that age, I imagine everyone is lumped into one of a few very specific categories: Mommy and Daddy, other people feeding me, other people playing with me, and random people standing within my line of sight. There's some overlap of course, but when you're too young to form long-term memories, it's pretty much a moment-by-moment thing.

As I stated before, as well as visiting my newly-minted relatives, we also did the tourist thing. Boston is a lovely town, and full of history. Being that I've lived my whole life in Chicago, it was both amazing and humbling to stand in front of buildings with signs authenticating the fact that they are in fact older than this country. There's a wide variety of beautiful architecture, especially the churches. I wanted to go see the Red Church, the oldest church in America, but alas, even a week wasn't long enough to see everything I wanted to experience.

But we did get to see a lot. We visited M.I.T. and Harvard. M.I.T. was strange. It wasn't built like a college. If I hadn't been told we were strolling through a college campus, I would have insisted we were walking around in some downtown area. It looked more like a busy financial district, with buildings of varying age and architecture, than one of the most prestigious colleges in America. Not that I'm speaking ill of M.I.T. Everything was well built and pleasing to the eye, it just wasn't at all what I expected.

Hahvahd

Harvard, on the other hand, was exactly what I picture a renowned University looking like. Sprawling acres of tended lawns, with trees spaced sporadically here and there with plenty of lounging students (especially considering this was July), buildings of red brick practically dripping with age and history. Also, I found it highly amusing that the tour guides I saw were wearing T-shirts that said "Hahvahd."

Speaking of the stereotypical Southie accent, during our last day in Boston we went on a tour of various locations in Boston where movies and TV shows have been shot (or at least used for second-unit photography). The tour guide had a so-called "neutral" American accent; i.e. a Midwestern accent pretty close to my own. He said this was because he went to college in Virginia, and had been made fun of for his Massachusetts non-rhotic manner of speaking, causing him to teach himself to learn a new accent. However, at point during the tour, we stopped at a bar where a scene from Good Will Hunting had been filmed. While in there, one of the barflies looked over at me, and we had the following conversation, pretty much verbatim.

Barfly: Ah you paht of the touah?
Me: Yeah, I'm with the movie tour.
Barfly: Have you seen The Depahted?
Me: (trying not to laugh) It's been mentioned a lot during the tour.
Barfly: It was filmed heah too, you know.

I mean, come on. Out of all the movies filmed in Boston he could have mentioned, he had to ask me about the one that has a name that showcases his accent?

Going back to Harvard, when we were entering, my sister asked us what the name of the school's founder was. I couldn't remember, and my mom said "John Harvard." That sounded familiar to me, so I said I thought that was it. About ten minutes later, we came upon a statue which, according to rumor, is not of John Harvard, even though the plaque has his name on it. My mom saw it and started laughing, stating that she had been making the name up earlier. For the rest of the day, just saying "John Harvard" was enough to get us all laughing.

The movie tour was a lot of fun, too, even though I had only been vaguely interested in it. I was much more interested in seeing historic sites in Boston, but as my sister had already done that when she'd been there a couple months earlier, I decided it could wait for another time. During the tour, our guide had a running contest going, where he would hand over coupons every time one of us answered a question correctly. There were points given out for other things, such as pointing out whenever we passed a Dunkin Donuts (which it turns out got it's start in Boston), but most of them were for answering questions. I thought I had it in the bag, but there was another guy there who gave me a real run for my money. I was thoroughly unsurprised when I noticed he was wearing a T-shirt with a quote from The Usual Suspects on it. This guy obviously knew his movies. Perhaps appropriately, we ended up pretty much in a tie, so we both got to go home with a little plastic trophy proclaiming us to be "Movie Buffs." I'll have to figure out what the hell I did with mine.

Denny, my cousin Tami's husband, was in Switzerland on a job interview our first day there, but he was back by the second day. Denny is good people in my opinion. He's got the most awesome German accent I've ever heard, and he's rather soft-spoken most of the time, a sharp contrast to my family, stereotypical loud obnoxious Americans all. I don't mean soft spoken in that he doesn't voice his opinion, he does, especially if you get him going. I mean it literally, his normal speaking voice is a good 10-20 decibels lower than most people I know. I had a good time sitting out on the back porch with him drinking beer and chatting about whatever.

One thing that was weird for me was the change of schedule. Boston is only one hour off Chicago, so there was no jet-lag. But I'm a night person. I think nothing of staying up till the wee hours of the morning and waking up well after noon. But on that trip, I found myself going to bed by 10 (and thinking about how it was only 9 back home), and waking up about 5 or 6 am.

"Waking up" might sound innocuous. It's one thing having an alarm go off, or having someone poke their head in to tell you it's time to get up. It's quite another to be jarred awake by a naked toddler leaping onto your unconscious form and demanding to be thrown around the room like a rag doll. This was a daily occurrence, as I was sleeping on a futon in Noah's play room, and like most young children he has absolutely no sense of propriety. It didn't even occur to him that I might not be ready upon the instant of waking to roughhouse with him.

Here's one thing I noticed while I was visiting. If there's one trait that all members of the Kasperek family have in common, it's that we all have the same eye color. I've noticed that every one of the blood relatives on my mom's side of the family has the same blue eyes I do, which is impressive considering pretty much all of my relatives by marriage have brown eyes. You'd figure the brown allele would have caught on somewhere, but our eye color seems to be indomitable.

But of course, it was eventually time to go home. It was raining when we got to the airport, and that rain seemed to follow us as it was coming down in buckets when we landed in O'Hare. And as I already stated, that rain had some very unfortunate implications for me. But I still don't want to revisit that, so it is at this point that I will bid you all adieu.

More pictures of my trip can be viewed here.

* In case you're wondering, that actually is them in those links.

-Long Days and Pleasant Nights

One for all the hoopy froods out there

The second coming?

A couple days ago, I finished And Another Thing, Book Six of the Hitchhiker's Trilogy. For those who don't know, the first five books of the Trilogy (it's something of an in-joke to call it that) were penned by the late, lamented Douglas Adams, who went on to his final reward in May of 2001. Before his death, Adams had commented that he would like to write another Hitchhiker's book, as Book Five, Mostly Harmless, ended the series on a rather bleak note.

Several years after his death, Adams' widow gave permission for a sixth book to Eoin Colfer, author of -among other things- the Artemis Fowl series of novels. Mr. Colfer was an interesting choice, in my opinion. Hailing from Ireland, a mere stone's throw from Adams' native England, he was well-equipped to give the novel the same idiosyncratic British flavor Adams had injected into the series.

However, and this is an interesting point, up until now, all of Colfer's books had been written for the juvenile/young adult audience. I am a fan of the Artemis Fowl series, and while they're a load of fun and there's many chuckles to be had, They don't have that same gut-busting humor that Adams was so famous for. Adams had a way of describing things (such as the immortal "they hung in the air in exactly the same way that bricks don't") that I can only liken to one other author, Terry Pratchett. It might help that both authors are British.

However, I was heartened by his choice of title. It works on a number of levels. All five of the original books drew their title from the first book. "And another thing..." comes from the fourth book, but it still follows the same theme on drawing a title from a previous work. And having the title come from a different book than all the others helps to set it apart right from the onset. The quote in question the title comes from reads:

"The storm had now definitely abated, and what thunder there was now grumbled over more distant hills, like a man saying 'And another thing…' twenty minutes after admitting he's lost the argument."

Reading the book, it seems that Colfer took greatly to the idea that he was writing this book for adults. He seems to revel in his sudden ability to swear and discuss other adult themes. Not that the book is excessively dirty, but compared to his Artemis Fowl books, which contain no cursing save for an untranslated swear from a non-human language, it's a noticeable change. And, to my American eye, it's even more noticeable due to the fact that the curses are all clearly British/Irish in origin: i.e. "arse," "shite," and "fecking."

The typical American, apparently.

Speaking of which, I noticed that the only character in the novel who's explicitly stated as being American comes from Texas. I realize Texas is a large place, and that the stereotypical Texan (six-shooter, mustachioed, choleric temper) is probably the easiest to recognize of any American culture, but to go by British authors, you'd think they make up 3/4 of our population. It seems any time a British author wants to insert an American character, going as far back as Bram Stoker.

But back to the book. It is certainly written in the spirit of Adams' original novels. The theoretical sciences involved seem to incorporate Adams' Rule of Funny science with Colfer's own Rule of Cool science. For instance (minor spoiler warning, late in the novel it's mentioned that Dark Matter works to enhance a person's emotions. No explanation for why this should be is given, nor, as this is a Hitchhiker's book, is one expected. The series has always involved a large amount of Willing Suspension of Disbelief, and the newest installment is no exception. You're reading these books to have a good time, not to discover the cutting edge of science.

And the book is a good time. It's a hoot, it's a blast. Considering the material he's working with, and the fanbase he has to appease, it can't have been an easy task to write this novel. As a new author covering old, familiar territory, Colfer of course has his own interpretations on the characters he's working with. Sometimes, one person can see a character in a far different light than others do. But Colfer manages to keep the original feel of both the narrative and the characterizations, while still managing to inject his own personality seamlessly into the work.

I've spoken to people who refuse to read the book on account of the fact that Adams didn't write it. In my opinion, they're missing out. Reading it is like being reunited with old friends, friends you were so close to that there's none of that awkward "So, uh...how've you been?" rigmarole. And Another Thing... throws you right into the action, and doesn't give up for a moment. If you're a fan of the series, and you're not a curmudgeon about it, you won't be disappointed by this latest installment in the Hitchhiker's Trilogy.

-Long Days and Pleasant Nights

Space the Rodian

Go on, try it.

Every Sunday for the last six years, or near enough as makes no difference, I've been playing tabletop Role-Playing Games with the same group. We started off playing Rifts, and have flipped back and forth between several other games, such as the Star Wars RPG and Dungeons and Dragons 3.5. Six years is a long time, even if it is only one day out of the week, and we've amassed a collection of stories and shared experiences that is rather mind-boggling.

It's gotten so that people who've never even gamed with us are familiar with many of our stories. And for those of you who have never played an RPG, it's not all stories like "Have you heard about the time we trounced that 20th Level Black Dragon?" In fact, most of our favorite stories aren't about defeating huge monsters, unless something really amusing happened during the fight. A lot of them are the kind of stories most people tell, stories about when so-and-so did something very foolish or embarrassing. The kind of stories where repeating one certain phrase from it will send anyone who was there into gales of laughter. Like "Do we still have a problem?" or "Look, it moves you at a speed."

Sometimes, the right statement can enter the vernacular, and become almost idiomatic within a group. as is the case with slang within our own society. One in particular that exists within our group stands out in my mind. It goes as follows:

I want two arms, and I want two other arms.

It came about from an out-of-character conversation (meaning that we were speaking as a bunch of guys sitting around a table, not as though we were characters in the game). I was running that game, and one of the players, well known for his rampant munchkinism, was asking me if he could get an extra pair of arms for his character. However, he wasn't making himself understood very well.

"Hey, I want another some new arms for my character."
"So you want to replace your arms with bionic ones?"
"No, I want them under my real arms."
"So you want four arms?"
"No. Listen. I want two arms, and I want two other arms."

The reason the conversation came up was that while the rules allow you to have bionic arms, he wanted them to be detachable. I don't remember if he explained why, but my thinking was that to him, it'd be the best of both worlds. He'd have an extra pair of arms when he needed them, and the rest of the time he wouldn't have to worry about people giving him weird looks in the street. It was odd, as he wasn't the kind of player who normally cared about how strange he looked (the guy thought nothing of carrying five or six guns at all times, concealed behind a flowing cloak), but having only two arms in social situations must have been important to him, as when I told him he couldn't do it, he dropped the matter entirely.

Well, point is, we still use the phrase "I want two arms, and I want two other arms" today, usually to describe a situation where neither side has any idea what the other wants. Also in situations where someone is asking for two sets of things that are superficially similar (like arms), but fundamentally different (one pair is metal), and the person doing the asking hasn't specified the difference. And as you can imagine, we've built up quite a collection of such sayings in 6 years.

In case you're wondering about the title, it comes from a Star Wars game we were playing. I played a Rodian (see the picture above for an example of that race), and was playing him like a typical member of his race. That is, he was an aggressive arrogant jerk. As you can imagine, he really endeared himself to the rest of the party. They probably kept him around only because I'd built him into a crack-shot. Regardless, it became a running gag during that campaign that the solution to every situation involved "spacing the Rodian." As in shoving him in an airlock and jettisoning him into space. They never actually did it, but it was always brought up.

Forward the Complaints

I hate forwards to novels, I really do. They like the bad opening narrations to movies that the execs force of the production crew because they figure the viewers are too stupid to figure out the plot of the movie on their own. The analogy isn't perfect, since the motives aren't entirely the same. But the end results are: they completely suck the life out of a creative work before you've even had a chance to experience it.

There are two ways a forward makes an appearance in a book. The first is that the author himself had some bit of writing he couldn't figure out a way to insert in the novel, so he just puts it in the front. When done well, they're known as a prologue and can enhance the reading experience. In Fantasy novels they're practically a requirement, as it's a safe assumption that anyone reading such a work is not intimately familiar with the world the story takes place in. While there's something to be said for preserving the sense of mystery and wonder which is the point of escapist fiction, giving the reader a general idea right at the start may be wise to prevent readers from throwing the novel aside in frustration and shouting "I don't understand a damned thing going on here!"

Sometimes, however, it can be a form of exposition that not only has no logical place in the main body of the novel in question, but is also written in a different format/style from the rest of the work. But the author thinks it's such a clever bit of writing, or that it's absolutely essential that you know the back story behind Jack P. Protagonist's great-great-uncle Wally, that he puts it in regardless of the fact that it's jarring and extraneous.

However, that is not the kind of forward I'm talking about. The kind I'm referring to is the kind publishers awkwardly cram into new printings of novels. I guess the mentality is that someone is more likely to buy a copy of a book they already own if they see the words "With A New Forward By X!" on the front. Many times, X is the author, but not always.

The ones by people who aren't the author are the ones that really annoy me. They're usually written by a critic or a professor of literature or someone else who's supposed to have at least a technical understanding of the structure of a novel, and is asked to write a few pages on why this particular novel stands out among others. The problem is, the author of the forward seems to assume that, since he's already read the book, so has everyone else. This, if you're not careful, you'll have the entire plot of the novel spelled out for you, with plot twists and all the other real interesting parts, completely spoiled before you've reached page one. They must get the idea from movie trailers, another medium who seems to get off on blowing surprise twists for the audience.

I mean really, is it that hard to believe that I want to actually read the book I just bought? If I wanted a quick run-down of what happens in the book, I could just look up a synopsis. If I want some crackpot's interpretation of the book's symbols and themes, I'll head down to the local bar. It's getting so a beer costs less than a paperback in any case.

Of course, wannabe Devil's Advocates out there might be asking "Why not just skip over the forward?" Which is of course a valid counterpoint. And really, nine times out of ten, it's not an issue. However, there is a case where the forward becomes very hard to avoid. My job involves a lot of driving. On some days I may be in my car for several hours out of my shift. So one thing I've taken to doing is listening to audio books while I drive. And in that case, I can't just flip pages until I've gotten to the actual story. I've got to sit there and fast forward and rewind through the damn thing until it seems I've gotten to a spoiler-free point. And at that point, the experience becomes a jarring sequence of hearing bits of the first few pages of the book and hearing lines like "...and at the time, no reader could have imagined an author would actually kill his..." and "The pounding outside grew ever louder as..."

Also, it seems to be required to at least once in a forward to use a phrase to the effect of "...in a manner with which writers of lesser caliber cannot compete." Now, I admire your ability to write a sentence so that it doesn't end in a preposition, but can we please remove the phrase "writers of lesser caliber" or "writers of lesser talent" from the vernacular of critique? It's used so much that it would seem that every author who's ever lived is the supreme example of his craft. It's getting repeated so much it's starting to have about as much semantic content as when reporters say "startling new developments." All it tells you is that you're about to read/hear some stupid fluff piece and can stop paying attention.

Just as bad as forwards are the back covers of books (movies as well, but generally not as much). The blurb on your average back cover/dust jacket has an annoying tendency to give you the plot of the book to as far about about 3/4 of the way through. If you're foolish enough to actually read that, you might as well just open the book to the last chapter and start from there, because that's about the only part of the book that hasn't been spoon-fed to you already.

It might seem nit-picky, and that's because I'm a nit-picky guy. But really, it's like if the original trailers for Citizen Kane had said "Never before has so much to-do been made over a sled!" Then you walk into the theater, and you see this reporter trying to figure out why Charles Foster Kane's last word was "Rosebud," and you're like "Dude, it was his sled when he was a kid. Why did I pay good money to see this?" And yet it still happens all the time. Amazing.

-Long Days and Pleasant Nights

Common Movie Tropes

The following is a list of tropes I came up with a few years ago. A trope is defined as "devices and conventions that a writer can reasonably rely on as being present in the audience members' minds and expectations." In other words, it's the kind of stuff you see all the time in movies, television, etc. While most of the items on this list are mine, I'd like to thank Antonio Martinelli, Tony Patryn, Mike Schoenfeld, and Rob Stilphen for coming up with some of the others here. If I missed anyone, I apologize.

Now, on with the tropes.

1. In the 80s, all solid, inorganic objects were required by law to be designed so that they explode in a roaring fireball when struck with a projectile moving faster than a lobbed rock. This requirement was rescinded sometime in the early 90s, though Jerry Bruckheimer and Michael Bay are known to still adhere to its spirit.

2. The only objects still under the auspice of the "very explodable" law are vehicles. Automobiles in particular are so unstable and volatile that they have been known to explode as the result of rolling off the road, falling off a cliff, or being exposed to harsh language.

3. Airplanes have a special addendum attached to them. They are not allowed to crash or explode (preferably both at the same time) unless and until they have flown behind something, such as a hill or a tall building.

4. If a something is about to be blown up, the recommended way to survive the blast is to run away with a look of abject terror frozen to your face. At some point, you must dive face-first to the ground, preferably in slow motion. For some reason, diving to the ground seems to be what actually triggers the explosion. Despite this, you are required to do it.

Just as long as he doesn't start singing "My Mammy."

5. Fiery explosions are to be limited to two types: the kind that kill instantly, reducing everything around it to bits of charcoal; or the kind that leave the person(s) who survived it looking as though he was performing in a Minstrel show.

6. There are three ways to determine whether someone is of notable intelligence: the presence of eyeglasses, the unexplained need to use unnecessarily complex (or "big") words, and/or wild eccentricities that constantly teeter on the border between amusing and dangerous.

7. Rich white guys are all douchebags, unless a woman with a heart of gold steps in. Then, the man is guaranteed to see the error of his ways within 90 minutes, usually during a montage.

8. There are only two kinds of people in the world; those who know absolutely nothing about computers, and those who have the magical ability to make computers do anything they want.

9. The latter group is composed solely of social misfits, whacked-out conspiracy theorists, and ultra-paranoid passive-aggressives. In the 90s, they were also all into punk culture. In the 21st Century, they are all into Star Wars.

Not now, Mom! I'm at the IPs, killing his internets

10. The most skilled of the afore-mentioned people always live with their mother.

11. Rear-view mirrors in cars are optional features.

12. Tire irons are not. Not for changing flat tires, but for threatening to crush people's skulls.

13. The rules of the road don't apply to women, especially hot women in fast cars.

14. It is not necessary to pay any attention to the road while driving. Simply carry on a conversation with any passengers (preferably in the form of exposition) while occasionally jerking the wheel in one direction or another.

15. Only morally reprehensible people smoke. Unless it's an indie film, in which case every man, woman, and child on Earth is nursing a two-pack-a-day habit.

16. It is always dusk in Russia, and there is always between 2-4 inches of snow on the ground. It is also always snowing, yet the level of the snow never rises. (also applies to every European country with a poor economy.)

17. Any cop less than two weeks away from retirement should make sure his or her life insurance premiums are paid up.

18. Bears are dangerous, yet amusing. Raccoons are just amusing. (Also, the humor level of a talking animal is conversely proportionate to how dangerous it is. (Talking chipmunk = hilarious, Talking shark = evil).)

19. Police agencies run very careful psychological screens of every member of the force. This is to ensure that every cop's partner is his exact opposite.

20. Any and all single fathers raising their children are widowers. Likewise, all single mothers were in relationships with total deadbeats (abusiveness optional but recommended). This is because all women are natural nuturers and find maternal instinct practically impossible to ignore; while at best, 50% of men might make adequate fathers given time and patience.

21. Women never think about or discuss sex, especially around other women.

22. Women always think about or discuss sex, especially around other women.

23. Only stuffy stuck-up sissy men like the opera.

24. It takes immense discipline and effort for a man to do anything other than fantasize about every woman within line of sight.

25. Physical injury to the male genital area is always hilarious and never causes permanent damage.

26. Also a constant source of comedy: gay men. Unless they are a source of intense sadness. Gay men are never in the background or unimportant.

Watch one episode and tell me you wouldn't beat her.

27. Snarky, sarcastic, and disrespectful children are not troublesome or in need of discipline. They are cute, amusing, and should be encouraged to continue in their precocious manner for the betterment of all.

28. Take care, though. If said brats continue those habits into adulthood, they are doomed to become either semi-annoying comic relief sidekicks, or David Spade.

30. 98% of all people have glass jaws. A single punch to the face will knock them unconscious for as long as needed.

31. Being knocked unconcious will never have any lasting negative effects, regardless of the object used or duration of time passed out. If  any effects are felt, make sure to rub that back of your head and make a witty comment, that should clear things up nicely.

32. Any fight where the first punch does not render the individual unconcious will result in a true no holds barred battle that will make every martial artist think twice about messing with either combatant.

33. Taxi drivers never speak any better than mostly-comprehensible English, unless they are simply masquerading as cab drivers to bring someone else to a secret location against their will. Note that having a thick Brooklyn accent counts as mostly-comprehensible English. Cab drivers with said Brooklyn accent are not required to be living or working in New York.

34. At any given moment, in any major city, there is a high speed car chase taking place. At the very least, one car will be stolen/commandeered, and property damage will never be less than tens of thousands of dollars. Federal law mandates that at least one clip's worth of bullets should be expended in random fire in public areas with lots of innocent bystanders. For some reason, no one minds this.

35. The number of bullets in any given gun can range at random from one less than the person needs, to a value approaching infinity. A godo rule of thumb is that the  number of bullets a gun holds at any given time is directly proportional to its proximity to the target (point blank = empty, 5 blocks away = infinite)

36. Standard procedure when securing an area with possible hostiles is to send in one lone operative (or sometimes a team of generic operatives), preferably someone no one has had a chance to become emotionally attached to. When (not if) that person dies, the rest are free to proceed.

37. Lakes of oil or tar (or any viscous liquid for that matter), raging water, extreme weather, hails of gunfire, or any other seemingly deadly situation is never more than a slight impediment to one sufficiently motivated. FLAMING lakes of oil or tar are a greater bullet impediment, and statisticly increase the swimmer's chances of escaping from them

38. Total strangers often run into each other multiple times over the course of their lives, and always in situations that are fundamentally similar. For instance, a person can move to a new country, join a hermitage, and jump 50 years back in time. Eventually, the exact same cop will commandeer his vehicle, or need to use his phone, or crash into his home shooting wildly. This is not seen as a mind-boggling coincidence, but merely quirky and somewhat amusing to those not directly involved in the action.

39. The plucky underdogs will always win in the end, especially if their final foe just happens to be the original contender they squared off against. This is perfectly Ok, because the reigning champions always use underhanded tricks or are vaguely unlikable, thus destroying any sense of sympathy or moral ambiguity for them. Also, the underdogs are always plucky.

40. When paying for a cab, it is not necessary to ask the drive how much, nor to even count how much money you are giving him, just reach into your pocket and grab a wad of cash and give it to him, it will ALWAYS be the right amount.

41. Sometimes paying isn't even necessary. Just step out of the cab and continue with your business. In some cases simply thanking the cabbie is payment enough.

42. When answering or hanging up a phone, you never need to say "Hello" or "Goodbye" to the person.

43. Grocery bags must always, ALWAYS, contain at least one stick of French Bread. The older you are, the more bags you are required to carry while crossing a busy intersection.

44. Any door to any building can be knocked down with a simple shoulder rush or kick....unless the door leads into a burning building with a baby trapped inside.

45. Throwing a half-smoked lit cigarette into/onto a building/car/person that has casually been sprinkled with 1 gallon of gasoline per square mile will always erupt into a 4-alarm fire, but the dog will always survive.

46. 70% of all black people are Denzel Washington.

47. The other 50% of black people are Samuel L. Jackson. Yes, that equals 130%. Black people didn't exist until the 40's and then they were all vagrants. They have to make up for lost time.

48. The best way to survive a hail of gunfire from automatic weapons is to run straight and dive behind a wooden table.

49. If you are the bad guy, no matter what weapon you are using, nor what training you have had, you will only manage to injure a few innocent bystanders and completely miss your target, unless the said target is a rogue cop, then you will hit him in his shoulder/leg, severely inconveniencing his day.

50. The only way for the bad guys to kill the good guy is if the good guy is atoning for some personal sin. Redemption can only be found in death.

51. If you are the good guy, you can use any projectile-type weapon (i.e. rubber bands and paper clips) and always hit your target in the head from a distance 10x the maximum effective range of such a weapon.

52. As long as it happened within the last few minutes, anyone can be brought back from the dead by improperly-applied CPR and a few shouts of "Don't you die, dammit!" Also, regardless of how long the heart was stopped for, the victim will not find his health, recovery, or lifespan in any way impaired when brought back.

53. The previous rule does not apply if the person's death will somehow cause the person attempting resuscitation to grow as an individual, or change his life for the better.

54. With few exceptions, anyone on the brink of death will live just long enough to deliver one final message. In some cases, they will live long enough to recite a dissertation.

55. All African-Americans, and I do mean all of them, are from the ghetto and grew up in abject poverty. The only way for a black person to succeed in the world is to pretend that he or she is white. Consequently, all rich black guys have "forgotten their roots." They will live in a constant limbo, never accepted by white people or black people, unless and until an amusing, racially offensive friend from the "Hood" shows up to remind him of what is important in life (Note: this often includes family, but most often the important things are cheap malt liquor and loose women).

56. Theory equals practice. For example, anyone who has carefully studied trigonometry and physics is guaranteed to be an expert pool shark the first time they pick up the cue.

57. Following the logic of the previous statement, all scientists are also engineers. Any scientist, upon completing a theory, can and will immediately begin work on a device that will allow him to practically apply his new theory to some end. Usually it's a weapon (or something that can be turned into a weapon with astonishing ease).

58. 90% of all scientific discoveries will either "revolutionize the field," or "throw into question everything we thought we knew about the world."

59. The time needed to trace a telephone call is always four seconds longer than the call lasted, regardless of how long the call was.

60. Inside every ugly person is a beautiful person waiting to be set free. All that's needed is a fasionable friend or two who pretends to buy into that "it's what's inside that counts" garbage, some expertly applied make-up, a haircut, clothes that aren't "like totally gross," and a dressing screen or door to step out from behind and shout "Ta-da!" This is because men are vain and shallow, and women only care about pretty eyes and a winning smile.

How to Spot a Time Traveller

Excuse me, sir, you appear to be injured.

To go by television and movies, time travelers are not only common, they're ubiquitous. It seems like every ten minutes, someone is appearing from the past or the future into our time. The reasons vary. They may be here by accident, or they're here to change some terrible wrong that happened in their time. They may be the future version of tourists, or they've been brought here by fate because they're the only ones who can stop something that's about to happen. Or they could just be here to use their future knowledge/technology to dupe us people of the past. So you may be asking yourself, if the world is so full of time-travelers, why haven't I met any of them?

The obvious answer, of course, is that you have, but you didn't realize it.

Time travelers, at least, those who are here on purpose, are surprisingly reticent to announce their presence. This makes a certain amount of sense. Anyone who knows anything about time travel is familiar with the concept of time paradox. While it may be mildly embarrassing to tell someone at a party that you're not supposed to be here and you just snuck in, to do the same while traveling through time could cause the whole of reality to unravel before your eyes. And at that point, you can't just apologize to the host and make a gracious exit. Destroying the whole of reality has a tendency to get you blacklisted from social events.

In fact, there are only a few circumstances under which a time traveler will be up-front. Here's a short list of reasons.

1. He or she is you from the future. This is generally easy to spot, especially after it's been pointed out to you.
2. You have just been through a series of harrowing misadventures with a complete stranger, who seems perfectly at home with the bizarre occurrences. This is especially probable if in the course of your flight from danger you witnessed things that call you to question everything you thought you knew about how reality works. Even under these circumstances, the time traveler will not explain anything until you, in a blind panic, start screaming things like "What the hell was that thing?" "Who the hell are you?" "What the hell is going on?"
3. The time traveler has specifically come back (or forward) to help you. Even in this case, they may not say "I'm from the future/past."
4. You're the evil mastermind he's come to stop. Note that you have to actually already be an evil mastermind (or are on the verge of formulating a sinister plan) for this to apply. Time travelers seem reluctant to stop an evil mastermind by getting to him while he's young. While it may make sense to go back and stop -for instance- Hitler by killing him as a child (or possibly by hugging him more), for some reason this is never taken as an option.

Paradox Schmaradox, Doc. Should I get with my mom or not?

Granted, these things are probably unlikely to ever happen to you. It's a sad fact that personages of historical significance don't appear all that often, and even when they do, it's unlikely to be you. At best, you can hope to be the parent of the savior of humanity. Sadly, humanity seems to need saving relatively seldom.

But while a person from another time may not want to make his or her presence known, there are a few things you can do to spot one of them. When you meet a stranger, ask yourself the following questions to determine whether or not he's a time traveler.

1. Does he seem to be inordinately interested in today's date?
2. Does he keep staring at perfectly normal things and muttering  "It's amazing we ever survived such a primitive age." or "I never thought I'd see one with my own eyes."
3. Is he wandering around in clothing that seems out of place? Perhaps the cut of his suit is unfashionable, or he looks like he's in his pajamas, or his clothes look like they're made of tin foil. A bewildered looking man in full plate armor astride a horse downtown has either wandered in accidentally from the past, or is part of the local Renaissance Faire and is simply lost.
4. Does he speak in a language/dialect/use slang unfamiliar to you? Note that this is probably the least conclusive, especially in cosmopolitan urban setting. The best way to test this, assuming he speaks something close to a language you speak, is to mention the name of your town. Keep an ear open for clues such as "Ah, yes, that's what they called this city Pre-Collapse."
5. Does he find some aspect of our current roster of politicians amusing? This was far easier to gauge in the 80s, when time travelers frequently caught themselves out by laughing at the idea of a former actor being President.
6. When you ask "Are you a time traveler," does he respond in the affirmative?
7. Does he ask you about an event that either just happened, is happening now, or is scheduled to occur soon? After answering, does he say "Then there's still time." or "No! It's already too late!"
8. Is his name "Jonathan 198" or "Ugg?"
9. Does he have on his person one or more items you can't immediately identify?
10. Has he appeared in front of you from out of nowhere, possibly saying "And they said time travel was impossible!" or "Take that, Special Theory of Relativity!"
11. Does he bear an uncanny resemblance to a famous historical figure, right down to the way he's dressed?
12. Have you met this person as part of a surprisingly detailed oral report in your history class spearheaded by a pair who till this point had been underachievers dreaming of one day starting a band?
13. Does he respond to simple questions with "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
14. Does he give you a detailed account of what your unborn children will be like?
15. Is he confused by common figures of speech? Ex. "Wild horses couldn't stop me." "What do horses have to do with this?"

Every Yes is worth one point. Every No is worth 0 points.

Scoring:

0-2: Doubtful. He is probably not a time traveler. More likely he is a liar or crazy. On the other hand, he could be an alien, as time travelers and aliens share many of the same strange habits. Keep a close eye on him and wait for our next installment: How to Spot an Alien Masquerading as Human.

3-6: Unlikely. While the chances of him being a time traveler are better, they're not good. It is recommended you do not mention to your friends that you "met the strangest person today." Uttering that phrase is a giant red flag to Fate that the two of you are destined to meet again, and possibly even have sex. This could turn out to be embarrassing if he turns out to not be from another time.

7-10: Probable. It is entirely possible that you are dealing with a time traveler. It is advised that you not let the time traveler know that you've figured him out, as this always annoys them, and you don't want to be the plucky comic relief, do you? On the other hand, pay careful attention to things he does like buying lottery tickets or betting on sporting events. Make sure you follow his lead. Don't bet more than you can afford, however, just in case your hunch is wrong.

11-15: Time traveler. Congratulations. It is extremely likely you have encountered flotsam on the sea of temporal causality. If he admits himself to you, be sure to do anything he says. After all, it's entirely possible that your actions could help save the world. And if he turns out to be the bad guy attempting to use his knowledge of the future to alter the course of human events to his desires, hey; a job's a job, right?

-Long Days and Pleasant Nights