Strange news about a so-called “Ghost city” in China. You can see pictures of it here, as well as an explanation of how the scene supposedly came to be. It’s difficult to tell exactly what is real and what is not here; I’ve seen comments on the Daily Mail site to the effect that the story is mis-translated, and the mist is all that is strange, but other stories indicate the whole thing is a reflection. I think it’s just some sort of weird refection of a much further away city. Then there’s also the possibility of it being a hoax.

I ordinarily shy away from mentioning stories like this, but in this case there is something remarkable about it to me: the image, whatever it is, looks shockingly like the image that is always conjured up in my mind’s eye when reading the lines from The King In Yellow:

“Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink beneath the lake,
The shadows lengthen
  In Carcosa.”
No particular significance to this; I pictured an otherworldly city, and this mirage was of a city given an otherworldly effect. (Which, as I think about it, the similarity makes it almost seem more likely this is a hoax.) Moreover, there’s nothing explicitly in those lines from the poems that evokes anything about a city, but nevertheless that is what I pictured. 
Anyway, it was kind of weird to see this, especially so soon after I wrote a post about that book. 

“Like the protected books, plays, and movies that preceded them, video games communicate ideas — and even social messages — through many familiar literary devices (such as characters, dialogue, plot, and music) and through features distinctive to the medium (such as the player’s interaction with the virtual world). That suffices to confer First Amendment protection.”–Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia.

You can find my thoughts on this issue here.  

As long as I’m talking about fiction, I thought I’d discuss a mistake that I occasionally see in fiction: the introduction of superfluous elements that needlessly confuse and prolong the story, weakening it overall.

There’s probably a real name for this, but I like to call it the “Prince of Monte Carlo syndrome”, after the character in Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Grand Duke whose presence in the story is–in my opinion–unnecessary. Now, the reason Gilbert introduced the Prince was probably because he was funny; in fact, many people (not me) think his “roulette song” is the best thing in the show. But, though he’s a good character, he just doesn’t fit in well in the story, and actually messes up the flow of it by his presence.

Of course, this sort of thing is easier to get away with in comedies. In more serious works, it’s worse. I love Mass Effect 2, but, as Shamus Young and many others have pointed out, the Collectors feel like a totally unnecessary addition that serves only to muddle up everything and, worst of all, weakens the main enemy, the Reapers. Maybe they’ll make it work in Mass Effect 3, but as it is now, it’s kind of a messy plot.

This brings me to my most serious, and probably most controversial example: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Or, to be specific, just the Deathly Hallows. That book has many problems, in my opinion, but if I had to point to just one, I’d say it’s the fact that, when the Deathly Hallows are introduced, it just confuses everything. There was already a perfectly good “MacGuffin” in the horcruxes, it seemed to me that the Deathly Hallows were simply too much to deal with. This flaw isn’t fatal to the book by itself, but it combines with some other issues to make it my least favorite Harry Potter book. It put me off the franchise to such an extent I didn’t even think of it when writing this post.

The thing is, all these ideas are good by themselves; the Prince is funny, the Collectors are scary and the Deathly Hallows are an adequate plot-driving device–but they just don’t fit in well with the rest of the story. It’s not a fatal flaw–as I’ve said, Grand Duke is one of my favorite G&S works, and Mass Effect 2 is still a great game–but it can be quite jarring.

[NOTE: In this post, I’m going to spoil, to different degrees: the short stories The Call of Cthulhu and The Repairer of Reputations, and the film JFK.]

I like horror fiction–specifically “cosmic horror” of the sort exemplified by H.P. Lovecraft and, in some of his works, Robert W. Chambers. I have, in the past, expressed my preference for this over the grotesque type of horror that is more prevalent today, especially in film.

I also, as long-time readers know, enjoy conspiracy theories and conspiracy-related fiction. What I hadn’t realized, amazingly, until recently was how similar these two genres are. In the past, I’ve often supposed that it is simply too difficult to convey on the screen the same sense that can be conveyed on the page, but I realize now that the conspiracy genre is nearer the style a cinematic weird-tale should take.

H.P. Lovecraft’s assertion that in “the true weird tale… A certain atmosphere of breathless and unexplainable dread of outer, unknown forces must be present” is also, in a way, a description of conspiracy fiction, even if the conspiracy in the story is entirely man-made.

Oliver Stone’s film JFK–a masterful film, if a poor history–evokes a sense not unlike the best sort of cosmic horror or “weird tale”. Although there is no doubt that the conspiracy is wholly man-made, it is revealed piecemeal so as to gradually build up the terror of thing. (It need hardly be said that I believe in the truth of this conspiracy about as much as I do in Cthulhu. I am treating it purely as a work of art, and ignoring its real-world political meaning, such as it is.)

I suppose the real genre I am after is what is called the “thriller” or “supernatural thriller”, but that somehow seems like a cheap term to describe the kind of thing I mean. Somehow such films always tend too much toward the conventionally grotesque for my tastes.

The movie The Omen –my favorite horror film–is not so different in its structure from JFK, bizarre though that sounds. Both gradually build up to the revelation of “outer, unknown forces”. In the The Omen, the forces are the Biblical forces of Evil, whereas in JFK the forces are the “military industrial complex”, but though we–and even most Kennedy conspiracy-theorists–know intellectually that this is a man-made institution, it nonetheless can assume almost supernatural, or rather preternatural, powers over the course of the film.

Indeed, much of the similarity in these works stems from the fact that Cthulhu/aliens, Gods and Devils, and Super-secret Spy organizations make for powerful antagonists to whom all manner of dramatic powers may be given by the writer.

Now, it’s well known that aliens and religion are often the stuff of conspiracy fiction. (The Da Vinci Code, Deus Ex) But, from what I have seen, the conspiracies which involve them seldom manage to become truly like “weird fiction” in the Lovecraftian sense, because they usually rely on high-level human involvement in the conspiracies, and either turn out to be too mundane or just too confusing. One problem with writing man-made conspiracies is that they ultimately must have some logical, human motivation, which Cthulhu and the Devil and such do not require.

To be really good, (in my opinion of course) a good conspiracy and a good horror story must not over-explain. I know I’ve said this before, but it is worth repeating. Lovecraft himself, I think, went too far into explanation in his famous The Call of Cthulhu. What I remember about that story is the piecing together, not the anti-climactic revelation of the Old One. Again, Chambers’ The King in Yellow, especially “The Repairer of Reputations” is an excellent example of how to do it, in my opinion. Chambers was a great practitioner of horror, Lovecraft a great theorist.

Or, to go back to JFK, the film is largely a big buildup to a finale in which nothing is resolved, only the nature of the conspiracy has been, to some extent, revealed. (It might–and I’m only realizing this now–be possible to interpret the film with Garrison as an unreliable narrator, much as Hildred is in Repairer of Reputations.) It’s not pushed too far, and not over-explained, but it is gives you enough to comprehend the magnitude of the danger without being too sure of the details.

The sort of horror film I would like to see would rely almost entirely upon frenzied discovery and investigation, like a good conspiracy story. It would require hardly any explicit violence–it could probably get a “PG-13” rating–and express the scope of the horror in a manner similar to JFK: through, as Lovecraft memorably put it, “the piecing together of dissociated knowledge”.

As it happens, there’s another point, perhaps tangentially related to this post, that I’ve been wanting to post about.

Lately, I’ve been reading The Art of Literature by Arthur Schopenhauer. He makes some arguments that I had never heard before against reading too much. As he puts it: “reading is nothing more than a substitute for thought of one’s own.” (p.45) He says that reading whenever one can makes one intellectually lazy. It’s better, he says, to think for yourself when possible, and only read when your “thoughts stagnate at their source”.

I don’t necessarily agree with him. For example, you could easily spend all your time thinking up something someone else already thought of, and then you’ll just have wasted your time. You’ll have exercised your brain, but you won’t have produced anything new. (Admittedly, the only sure way of avoiding this is to read everything ever written, which is impossible.)

Still, in this day and age, it’s not often that the practice of reading is criticized, so I thought it worth noting. (And yes, Schopenhauer would probably think I am proving how mentally inept I am by making a blog post by quoting him.)

It seems that using the internet makes our brains demand more rapid stimulation, according to a study. And, it goes on to explain, this has negative effects on some mental abilities.

I don’t know about the science of it, but i do some times feel that using the internet has a decidedly negative effect on my attention span. I sometimes wonder if using the internet ironically makes me less able to blog effectively. To come up with interesting things to write about, I read and multi-task quite a lot to find interesting topics, and I can’t help but feel it has something of a detrimental effect on my ability to actually think critically about the issue, which is the primary reason I blog.

The internet is invaluable for gathering information, of course, but sometimes I’m not sure if I’m equipped to handle it. (This Dilbert comic puts it rather well–in the first four panels, that is.)

So far, it’s what I had been warned it would be: a Baldur’s Gate: Dark Alliance sort of thing. If you liked that game, this is for you. If you thought it was incredibly tedious, as I did, this might not be so good. But I’m only a little way into it. Maybe it will pick up.

I’ll try to post more impressions at a later date.

When I heard about NBC censoring the “under God” portion of the Pledge of Allegiance from a video shown for the U.S. Open, my first thought was: “too bad it wasn’t The Masters tournament. Then Conservatives could have boycotted it and used the old Anarchist/Feminist slogan ‘No Gods, no Masters.'”

Sorry.

More seriously, I wonder how many of those upset about this are aware that the pledge was originally written by a “Christian Socialist“. It’s very interesting to read up on the history of the Pledge, actually. But in any case, I honestly do think it was very silly of NBC to censor it. I really don’t understand what they thought was so offensive about it.

For no reason in particular, I was thinking of the part in George Plimpton’s Mad Ducks and Bears where lineman Alex Karras explains why names matter for football players. He contrasts the greatness of Johnny Unitas with the mediocre career of Milt Plum. The name, he argued, set the stage for their respective careers.

He might have been right off the gridiron, as well. The Anthony Weiner scandal springs to mind, of course, but perhaps the oddest and most disturbing case I ever heard was of a white supremacist named Eugène Terre’Blanche. The last name is from terra–land–and blanche–white. Eugene, meanwhile, derives from the same source as the word “eugenics”. It would be amusing had he been merely a fictional character, and not a real person.

Like I said, no special reason for thinking about this subject. It’s just odd.

I have not really paid much attention to the recent controversy involving the comedian Tracy Morgan, but I had to comment on this article by conservative entertainment critic John Nolte. Nolte argues that the fact that Morgan is being condemned and forced to apologize for his remarks signifies a “new Production Code”. (Explanation of what the old production code was here.)

Nolte asserts that the alleged new production code is worse, because: “instead of the Catholic Church wielding all the muscle, now it’s left-wing special interest groups like CAIR and GLAAD…”

I think that speaks for itself.

Here’s the best part, though. Nolte objects to what he reads in this article, from which he quotes:

“Tracy Morgan met with a group of homeless gay teens and families who have lost loved ones to hate crimes Friday in New York City. The gathering was organized by the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) following homophobic remarks made by the 30 Rock star during a June 3 show in Nashville, Tenn.”

In this, Nolte sees Orwellian dangers. And he goes on to say that if Morgan had made a similar joke, only with the violence directed at a “tea party” member, he would not be forced to go to similar lengths to express his remorse. Nolte claims:

“[N]o respected right-of-center group would ever demand such a fascistic re-education. At the most, they might pray for Morgan against his will or simply invite him to an event to get know [sic] who he’s mocking better.” [Emphasis mine.]

It seems to me that Nolte is implying GLAAD has forced Morgan to this meeting against his will. Well, I mean, if they have forced him to, that would probably be illegal. However, Nolte offers no evidence that Morgan did not merely voluntarily accept their invitation to this as an apology.

In other words, they appear to have done exactly what Nolte said right-wing groups would do, and nothing else. Please correct me if I’m wrong here, but I don’t see how else to interpret this.