Making Sense of Star Trek 3: the Classes of Axanar

In my previous post on this subject I defined the various ship classes of Star Trek and their roles within the fleet. Now I'm going to return to where I began this series by explaining how the ship designs of Prelude to Axanar just make sense to me (unlike those of later Treks).

We're going to ignore the Klingon ships, because let's be honest, most fans care more about the Federation ships anyway.

One of the things which I noticed is that the saucers on the first four ship classes, i.e. the ones which existed prior to the Four Years' War (and if you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch Prelude again) have the same radius. Look at the measurements under the names: the first is length, the second is width, and the third is depth. Notice that the second measurement of all four ships is the same: 122 meters. Notice that the nacelles don't extend out further than the saucer, either.

Why is this important? Because it means Starfleet was using standardized saucer sections across ship classes. I don't know about you, but I think that's brilliant, because it suggests to me that Starfleet had standardized specifications for hulls, nacelles, etc and instead of designing a ship wholecloth they just plugged parts into a design to get what they wanted.

Yes, they got the name wrong. I'm guessing there was a last-minute naming convention swap between the Hermes and the Geronimo (see below). 

The USS Hermes, on the far left, is a frigate. (See this post for an explanation of what that means.) It has one engine, meaning it's not very powerful (see my explanation of nacelles = boilers here.) It's obviously a scout which has been retrofitted for war by attaching a weapons "roll bar" to the top of the saucer in order to give it the ability to fire photon torpedoes.

The joy of this is that classes are now configurable for their missions. Do you need a Fast Frigate? Add a second nacelle to the top (this would obviously not be compatible with the rollbar). Need an Endurance Frigate? Add a secondary hull instead... you know, like the USS Kelvin.

Image found on Pinterest. 

Want a ship with the power of two engines that can also shoot photon torpedoes? No problem, that's the destroyer USS Magellan, just move the mounting points over to accommodate two nacelles on the ventral side and integrate the photorp launcher into the saucer, right above the impulse engines and ready to absorb energy straight from engineering. You can easily see how this design became the USS Reliant.

Want a destroyer with more endurance? Just put a secondary hull onto it and call it the USS Korolev, a light cruiser. Now it has more flexibility, more sensor power, more small craft.

I'm sure some of you are wondering why it has a notch cut out of the saucer. I contend that it's there to add visual distinction to the design, because otherwise it would be confused with the Magellan class. It already looks like a Magellan with a secondary hull, so adding a cutout increases its visual distinctiveness. It's bad reasoning for a navy, but it makes perfect sense for a movie.

Talking about saucer cutouts brings us to the USS Geronimo (erroneously labeled the Hermes in this picture. I don't know why they decided to halve its primary hull, as its double secondary hulls and dorsal nacelles (a design not seen again until the Constitution) looks plenty distinctive already. I truly can't explain why they gave up so much valuable real estate. But if you look at the top-down picture where the photorp launcher is, you can see that the dome on top of it is in almost exactly the same place as the one on the photorp launcher of the Magellan.

See, I told you they switched the names. 

That one very odd quirk notwithstanding, I really like this ship. It's clearly a medium cruiser and it seems optimized for two things:

1. Science operations, with its double forward sensor arrays in the navigational deflector dishes of the secondary hulls;
2. Small craft operations, with a plenty of room for shuttles (and Fast Attack Craft in wartime) in its deep double shuttlebays. 

In other words, it's a carrier that also doubles as a sensor platform -- all the better to coordinate small craft attacks and carry out electronic warfare during battles. 

All of this uniformity of design changed during the war, because as per Prelude to Axanar, the Klingons were handily defeating Federation ships in all battles which necessitated a bespoke design. Still, you can see how the design of the USS Ares is an example of "Like the Korolev, only moreso" with its longer secondary hull and more widely-placed nacelles.

Of course, everyone knows this lady. The Constitution class is certainly dramatic looking, with her long goose neck and swept back nacelles.

From a tactical standpoint, these design choices don't make sense, but it's worth repeating that the Enterprise was designed, first and foremost, to have a striking and unique design for a visual medium. In that sense the designer Matt Jeffries succeeded beyond his wildest dreams, as the Enterprise is still iconic 50 years later. This is, unfortunately, also where Starfleet designs stop making sense to me, with far more exposed parts and each class a custom design with a unique hull configuration.

Thank you for riding with me on this in-depth geek-out regarding the ship classes of Starfleet. I hope you had fun! Leave your comments below. 

Making Sense of Star Trek 2: Classes Defined

See part 1 here.

What's a destroyer? Is it larger than a frigate or smaller? What purpose does it serve within a fleet? These are the kinds of questions that this article will attempt to answer. But first, a few caveats:

1. I am not an expert on naval terminology. However, this isn't that big a deal, because...
2. ... a lot of naval terms aren't consistent even within the same country's navy, let alone across the fleets of different nations. 
3. There's a difference between surface ships and space ships, obviously, including their roles. 
4. Therefore, this article's purpose is make sense of Starfleet and to be internally consistent throughout, not to be consistent with other navies. 
5. I'm going to be using military terminology (because navies are military) which may be a little jarring to some people who believe the fiction that Starfleet isn't a military. 

Classes, Listed

Starting with the smallest actual warp-capable vessel and going to largest:

• Fast Attack Craft
• Corvettes
• Frigates
• Destroyers
• Cruisers
• Capital Ships

DISCLAIMER: In no way is this chart canonical.
It is, however, the best reference I've found so far. 

Classes, Defined

Fast Attack Craft

On Earth we know these as Gunboats, Patrol Boats, Torpedo Boats, etc. In Star Trek, they are shuttle-sized ships that have warp capability, phasers and/or torpedoes, and a crew of 1-2. FACs have a high impulse speed due to their small mass, but their warp speed is based upon their mission. For example, a FAC designed for patrol will have a lower-rated warp rating, trading maximum speed for endurance, whereas a FAC meant for high-speed attack will be capable of much faster bursts of speed but for a much smaller amount of time, greatly reducing its range. 

Examples of this are the Federation attack fighter and Maquis fighters, as well as the Danube-class Runabout when equipped with a weapons pod. 

Corvettes

Corvettes are the first of what you would consider actual ships instead of "boats" or "craft". They have a bridge instead of a cockpit, a captain* instead of a pilot, and an actual crew complement, but they are still quite small in comparison to typical Starfleet ships. Compared to other ships, corvettes are lightly armed and armored (this includes shield strength) and are suited only for specialized roles. Within those roles, they do an exemplary job, but outside of them they are completely inadequate.

Examples are the Maquis Raider and the Oberth-class science vessel. A Klingon Bird of Prey might be a corvette, depending on which size it is; see Bird of Prey Size Paradox. 

* By which I mean "holding the position of ship's captain" rather than "holding the rank of Captain". An actual Captain would not be in command of such a small ship; it's far more likely that this would be the first command of a Commander. See Starfleet Commissioned Officer ranks for more information. 

Frigates

While the corvette is the smallest class of ship, the frigate is the smallest ship you'd want to take into battle. In fact, it's the smallest of the Ships of the Line, "the Line" referencing a wet-navy tactic of the 17th to 19th century in which ships would form in columns (aka The Line) and sail past each other while delivering volley fire from their broadside cannons.

Being warships, frigates effectively outgun anything that doesn't belong to another military; however, being lightly armed, they don't do well against heavier military ships unless there are a lot more frigates than enemy ships. Fortunately, frigates are rather easy to build, which means that wolfpack or swarm tactics are an effective option. In a defensive role, they make great escort ships, either protecting merchant convoys or screening, which is preventing other ships (FACs, corvettes, and possibly larger ships if there are enough frigates) from overwhelming the larger, slower ships in the fleet. In peacetime, frigates make excellent anti-piracy patrollers and long-distance scouts.

Examples are the USS Kelvin and the Hermes and Saladin classes. Based on its size and crew complement, the Saber-class is probably also a frigate.

Destroyers
A destroyer can be summed up as "an average warship". It has good speed, endurance, weapons and defenses, but it is slower than a frigate (which it outguns) and faster than a cruiser (which outguns it). As the name says, the purpose of destroyers is to destroy things, and usually those things are specified within the ship's mission. For example, some destroyers might be optimized to battle swarms of smaller craft like FACs but be unable to hold their own against frigates; others might be glass cannons, designed to destroy larger vessels but unable to defend themselves effectively. Pairing a destroyer with several frigates makes a useful fighting element where the strengths of one class compensate for the weaknesses of the other.

The USS Defiant is both an excellent and terrible example of the class. On the one hand, it is specifically designed to destroy ships larger than itself; on the other hand, it is both smaller than expected (sized more like a frigate) and punches well above its weight (it fights more like a cruiser). The USS Prometheus is also likely a destroyer, although its size in comparison to other Starfleet vessels, as well as its crew complement, is unknown; this assumption is based on the ship being designed for "deep space tactical missions", i.e. battle, and its ability to split into three elements for said battle.

Other examples are hard to come by, as the writers of Star Trek like to think that Starfleet isn't a military and therefore don't have dedicated warships, the Defiant and Prometheus notwithstanding. However, hazarding a guess based on ship size, crew complement, and armament that even the Enterprise lacks -- dual aft torpedoes and fore/aft "mega phasers" affixed to the weapons "rollbar" -- the Miranda-class USS Reliant could be a large destroyer. Ships of similar volume and known to be used in wartime are the USS Centaur and the Constellation-class.

The Pasteur is another good atypical example; even though its size makes it more like a light cruiser, its highly specialized mission as a hospital ship (i.e. a destroyer that doesn't destroy anything) means it relies on support ships for protection in fleet operations.

Cruisers
Interestingly enough, cruisers are hard to define in terms of size because in both real life and in Star Trek there are several types of cruiser: light, medium, and heavy (sometimes known as battlecruisers or "pocket battleships"). In light of this I have chosen to define a Starfleet cruiser as "any starship larger than a destroyer which is capable of operating independently of a fleet or other support vessels for a sustained period of time." Cruisers have a good mix of offensive and defensive capabilities (see "operate independently") and can be good "jack-of-all-trades" ships.

The ur-example of a Starfleet cruiser is the Constitution-class USS Enterprise, and the Excelsior might have been a heavy cruiser of its time (if so, it's a perfect representation of the pocket battleship); in the TNG era, the increased size of ships would result in it being downgraded to a medium cruiser at best. Intrepid-class explorers are an excellent example of a TNG-era light cruiser, with both the Ambassador and Akira classes filling the role of medium cruiser and Nebula-classes as heavy cruisers.

Capital Ships
This is another name which is sure to cause dissension within the ranks of hard-core Star Trek aficionados, but what else would you call the Enterprise-E, a ship bristling with planet-busting weapons and by itself able to turn the tide of battle against a Borg cube, or its even larger predecessor the Enterprise-D? These ships are unquestionably the flagship of any fleet action and often have battle groups built around them.

"These characteristics define a capital ship: if the capital ships are beaten, the navy is beaten. But if the rest of the navy is beaten, the capital ships can still operate. Another characteristic that defines capital ships is that their main opponent is each other." - William S. Lind, America Can Win, p. 90

The capabilities of capital ships are well-known thanks to seven seasons of The Next Generation and subsequent movies. Their main drawbacks are being slower than smaller ships (the Enterprise-E has a maximum speed of Warp 8) and a vulnerability to being swarmed by smaller vessels. Even with their ability to engage multiple opponents at once, too many ships can overwhelm their defense grid if they are attacked on multiple vectors simultaneously. Eventually a capital ship becomes a large, slow-moving target, and while some of the swarming ships will undoubtedly be destroyed, enough will get through and do damage. After all, that's how the Federation defeated the Borg cube in First Contact.

Next
In my next post I'll show my work and explain how all of this ties in to Prelude to Axanar. 

Making Sense of Star Trek

So I've been thinking about Star Trek recently. It's actually something I do a lot, despite the fact I don't talk about it much, and the reason I don't talk about it a lot is because while I can enjoy the series for what it is, there's still a part of my brain that wants to make it into a role-playing game.

And I'm sure some of you are wondering Well, what's the problem with that, Erin? There have been many role-playing games set in the Star Trek universe. Just use one of those. Except the problem with that suggestion is that when you start digging into it -- as a GM must do in order to make a setting into a role-playing game -- there are things about it which make no sense whatsoever.

No, I don't mean the things you're expecting, like all the anachronisms or the technology that's basically miraculous. I'm not even talking about the numerous discontinuities within the setting (although that's something else I'd have to eventually deal with).

No, in this case I'm talking about starship design. Look at the various Federation designs since Next Generation came out. Why are some sleek and some squat? Why do some ships have warp nacelles that rise up from the engineering hull, and why do some have nacelles that curve down?

Why even build the Galaxy class when the Nebula class has 90% of its capability plus a configurable mission pod plus a much smaller cross-section (a definite advantage in combat)?

http://www.ex-astris-scientia.org/articles/nebula.htm

And don't even get me started on Trek's ship classification system wherein they apparently think that a frigate (traditionally smaller than a destroyer) is second in size only to a cruiser.

This is the kind of thing which bothers me when I'm trying to sleep.

And then, I re-discovered Prelude to Axanar. I'd seen it before, of course, and was awed at how amazing it was in terms of writing and special effects. But when I saw it again, I noticed something else which floored me: the ships made sense. 

If you haven't seen it yet, you must. Clear 21 minutes from your calendar and watch this masterpiece fictional documentary.

If you don't have the time or desire, then just watch this clip of absolutely gorgeous ships fighting each other.

I have a bunch of thoughts trying to get out all at once, and I'll try to make sense of them for you.

First, you need to understand that Gene Roddenberry is a World War 2 veteran. He flew in the Air Force (the Army Air Corps at the time), which partly explains why there are so many officers onboard Federation ships and not many enlisted. His understanding of the Navy also seems rooted in that area, and it carried over into Star Trek.

For example, the warp nacelles. They are ostensibly mounted on struts because they are dangerously radioactive and they might need to be ejected. However, this makes no sense to anyone who knows that there's an antimatter reactor at the heart of all Starfleet ships and no one seems to give two flips about how dangerous, explosive, and radioactive that obviously is...

... except hold up one minute. The whole antimatter core is fully a product of the motion picture series and later TV shows. In the original 1966-1969 series there was no reference to any reactor at all! Dilithium crystals, yes, and they were somehow necessary for powering the ship, but it wasn't explained. It was all very vague. In fact, if you look at the engineering room in TOS it almost looks like that nacelles are the reactors, feeding down to engineering to distribute power across the rest of the ship.

http://tos.trekcore.com/gallery/thumbnails.php?album=142

Once you realize that Roddenberry has simply extrapolated 1940s and 1950s technology into space, suddenly things make more sense. For example, the nacelles are quite obviously boilers, machines which power the ship and everything else on board. Without it, a ship cannot move, fire, or do anything else.

Boilers are also hot and dangerous, which explains why Roddenberry would want them kept away from the crew. And of course, the more boilers you have, the faster and more powerful the ship is, which means that more nacelles mean a beefier ship and therefore fewer nacelles mean a weaker one. Some of you no doubt recall the old one-nacelle Saladin class ship from Franz Joseph's Star Fleet Technical Manual and others the Larson class from the old FASA Star Trek RPG as examples of ships both smaller and weaker than the Enterprise, but if you want something more canonical, how about the TNG-era Freedom class or the alternate timeline USS Kelvin? And in the opposite direction, we have the four-nacelled Cheyanne, Constellation and Prometheus ships.

How does this all tie in with Prelude to Axanar? This article is already getting long, so I'll save that explanation for next time, but here's a teaser:

My Highlander Theory

This came up in a post on someone else's wall, and I figured it belonged here on my blog alongside my equally-cool "Crowlander" post.

I have a theory that Highlander-style immortals are outcast angels. Allow me explain:

http://arazand.deviantart.com/art/Dreus76-Photo-manipulation-104799996

According to the Bible, when Lucifer rebelled a third of the Host came with him -- but 1/3 against 2/3 is not a winnable fight. However, in some tellings of the story (and I wish I could remember where I read this. It might be a Neil Gaiman thing, it sounds like something he'd say), 1/3 of the Host couldn't decide who to support, or were persuaded by Lucifer to stay neutral, and so stayed out of the fight. This made the rebellion an even match for the loyalists, and thus far more winnable.

Well, we know how that story goes: Lucifer lost, and he and his minions were cast into hell. But what about the third who did nothing?

According to my theory, they were punished for not choosing to stand with God, but since they didn't actively rebel against God, their punishment needed to be less than everlasting damnation. Since they did not choose a side -- and since the one of the biggest themes in the Bible is "Free will, even if you choose to do the wrong thing" -- this undecided third would be made to choose good or evil, Heaven or Hell. 

To this end, they were stripped of most of their angelic powers, cast out of Heaven and sent to Earth in mortal bodies (remember, all immortals are foundlings) with no memories of ever being angels. The various ages of immortals, and their appearance throughout the ages,  can be explained by "Time is different in Heaven so it took some of them a while to arrive and in fact are still arriving" and/or "God didn't want to dump a third of the Host onto Earth all at once, so he spread them out."

So now, those angels who once stood by and passively watched are now watched by others (ironically called "The Watchers"),  and are compelled by their natures to fight and kill until There Is Only One.

The Prize, of course, is the entire fate of the outcast third. After winning the Prize, the last living immortal is judged by his character, and thereby redeems or damns the entire lot of them. It is effectively an eons-long Trial By Combat. If a good immortal like Connor or Duncan wins, they are accepted back into heaven. If someone like the Kurgan wins, they're damned to hell for all eternity.

When you think about it, this explains so much about Highlander mythology.

• Why can't they fight on Holy Ground?  Because God said so. 
• Why do 99% of them use swords? Because angels have traditionally been depicted as using swords. 
• Why does the Quickening manifest as lightning and other celestial effects? Because sky = Heaven. 
• Heck, this even explains Dark Quickenings: the entire Game is "Choose good or evil", and a Quickening is the absorption of all the angelic souls into one big over-soul. If you kill a lot of bad immortals, you absorb sin-tainted souls and become tainted yourself. 

The best part about this theory is that if you play supernatural RPGs like In Nomine or Vampire, you have a way to add immortals to the game without breaking the flavor of the setting. 

Joss Whedon 2: The Whedoning

So last week, you may have noticed me taking Joss Whedon to task. I admit I was being harsh in my assessments, but there was a purpose behind it. This week, Joss Whedon would seem to have fallen down some stairs or walked into a doorknob, because angry feminists certainly didn't run him off of Twitter. That would just be horseshit. Feminists love Joss Whedon, and would never call him an absolute trash can or misogynist baloney man, threaten to ruin him, or demand that they fight him.

Oh.

So Age of Ultron came out and, keeping to the barest minimum of spoilers here, some very vocal people got mad. Like real mad. Butt-mad. Pee-pee hearted. 

Joss Whedon is now both racist and misogynist. The racism comes from Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch, both of which are of Roma and Jewish heritage in the comics, having been cast as two clearly white actors and now being portrayed as 'nazi sympathizers.' Now, Romani people hailing originally from India, I can kind of see how not casting them with slightly darker complexioned actors might be a valid complaint, except that no one complained about the lily-white kids in Days of Future Past, and they're portrayed as slavic in AoU mostly due to Marvel not having the rights to Magneto. As for the 'nazi sympathizers' thing, Hydra isn't public knowledge in the MCU. I sincerely doubt a couple of mid-20s slavic kids are up to date on WWII military history. 

The misogyny comes from a couple of places: Tony Stark's 'prima nocta' joke, and Black Widow being damseled and mentioning her sterilization. I've gone back and forth with a few people on the sterilization thing, and I'm pretty solidly falling on the side of her meaning that her entire upbringing made her a monster and the sterilization was there to identify with Banner, who mentioned it first. Scarlet Witch's near-breakdown is also being tossed about, but she's pretty unstable to begin with due to her powers and I really don't think I'd fare too much better if my first combat situation was an extinction-level event either. At least give her credit that after Hawkeye's pep talk, she came out swinging and cleared the field.

Widow was damseled, but then she was 1 on 1 with Ultron. Widow is a covert operative, so if you've thrown her and Hawkeye on the field, you're already losing. In my opinion, they shouldn't even be on the field in the first place. Thor and Hulk should be making lots of noise while Widow and Hawkeye are taking out targets without anyone knowing they're even there. So when Widow goes up against a walking extinction-level event, I don't fault her for losing. I'm calling bullshit on her not being able to unlock her cell door, though. She could build a radio transmitter in a cave with a box of scraps, but had to wait for Banner to shoot the lock off? Nah.

So for nearly a week, outrage was directed at Joss Whedon. Vile insults and threats hurled his way. One might even say... harassment. Laced, peppered, scattered, smothered, and chunked with social justice terminology and gender/racial commentary. But it couldn't be harassment, because I've not heard it called that by the news outlets covering it. Strange, is it not,  when in one situation any form of criticism -- from mild and constructive to obscene and overt -- is directed at, say, a pop culture critic, it's harassment and threats, but it's not harassment when another group with even more extreme intensity directs it at a different person. No bad tactics, only bad targets, eh?

Keep pushing, Patton. You'll get there.

Then, something strange happened. The narrative shifted. The headlines went from “did angry feminists run Joss Whedon off of Twitter?” to “Angry feminists did NOT run Joss Whedon off of Twitter.” With all the familiar vocabulary of someone all too familiar with glass ashtrays being hurled at his head and walking on eggshells around a volatile significant other, Whedon made a public statement. No, he says, it's not that at all. I'm totally used to that (which I find even more disturbing). They did nothing wrong, so please don't think badly of them. 

Even his last tweet, thanking everyone for being so kind before closing out his account, reminds me of the last words I spoke to my ex-wife before I moved out, that all I wanted was the best for her. Said mostly so that things didn't turn ugly as I was walking out the door. I hope someone appreciates him falling on his sword for the cause.

Still, it feels like some self-awareness may be dawning here, especially inthis section: 

“Every breed of feminism is attacking every other breed, and every sub-section of liberalism is always busy attacking another sub-section of liberalism, because god forbid they should all band together and actually fight for the cause.”

Even seems some other people that have recently been complicit in holding up dodgy narratives have buckled under the strain. I also find it interesting that he says “literally the second person” to call and make sure he was okay was saintly Anita Sarkeesian, especially considering her writer and producer Jonathan McIntosh had no hesitation in shitting on Age of Ultron's 'hyper-masculinity' from a great height.

Pictured: Jonathon McIntosh shitting upon AoU from a great height.

Anyway. We all know the reason Joss quit Twitter was because I railed on him last week. Correlation, causation, and all that. I'm taking full responsibility for it. I am all-powerful! I will crush the lesser races, conquer the galaxy! Unimaginable power! UNLIMITED RICE PUDDING!

Now maybe I can get on with my next waifu-shitting fit that I've been delaying for like six months. Here's a hint, in proper Whedonesque style. It's two words:  Doctor...

Joss Whedon: Kiss the Ring

In which I shit on everyone's waifu again.

I've been a long-time viewer of Joss Whedon's television shows. Being a life-long nerd, it's sort of expected that I'd have faithfully followed at least one of them, and I'll be upfront and tell you that I came in kind of late on Buffy, starting with (the atrocious in retrospect) season six and then catching up on the previous episodes as well as Angel, on reruns. I probably pirated the first copies of Firefly. I even watched Dollhouse. When I heard he was directing Avengers, I was excited, and I wasn't let down when I saw it.

But something's always struck me as odd about Joss Whedon's work. Everyone who's anyone when it comes to voicing girl-power, smash-the-patriarchy sentiments seems to worship his work and hang on every baffling word the man tweets. And I just don't get it.

Someone once asked Joss “Why do you write strong female characters?” His response was the utterly glib “Because you keep asking me that question.” But that's the thing, he doesn't write strong female characters. He writes Strong Female Characters. As in, that's their one defining trait: they're strong. I mean, sure, every now and then you get a character like Cordelia, who had serious character growth... after she was moved off the mothership and onto the spinoff, with writing being handled primarily not by Joss, but mostly it's just “spindly kung-fu waif”:  Buffy, River Tam, Echo, and now Black Widow.

Look at the contrast between Widow in Iron Man 2 and Winter Soldier vs Avengers. She beats up some dudes and then runs away from Hulk. She gets exactly one good scene in Avengers, when she fools Loki. In Winter Soldier, she moves the story forward almost single-handedly. In Iron Man 2, she goes from "coquettish secretary suspiciously proficient in martial arts" to "complete and total badass" in a fight scene that she has yet to surpass in the MCU.

I just don't get why Joss Whedon is so revered by the feminist crowd that even Anita Sarkeesian won't criticize him, despite literally putting a woman in a refrigerator.

Pictured: Literal Woman In Refrigerator

Whedon treats his female characters like shit. And not in the good way where bad stuff happens to them and they struggle to overcome it, he's just got a blatant disrespect for them. There's so much that's “problematic” in his work, from the year-long date-rape scene between Buffy and Spike that was season six to the aforementioned fridging of River Tam, to the sexual imagery used in the Widow interrogation scene at the beginning of Avengers to the entire concept of Dollhouse. One could, if one were of a mind for critical theory, claim that Joss's library of work is dripping with misogyny. 

Then there's his actions and words outside of his work. Joss Whedon once spoke at an Equality Now event about how he hated the word “Feminism.” When The Mary Sue were 'fanning themselves' over Chris Pratt in the Jurassic World clip, Joss replied that he was too busy bemoaning how it was “70s era sexist.” Goony beard-man mansplains to women how they're wrong about feminism. And they love him for it.

Now don't get me wrong, when it comes to character and dialogue, he's pretty damn good. And his shows have consistently had great action scenes. I'm glad they gave him the Avengers films, because in sequential storytelling, the Avengers films are the series finale episodes that are just witty banter and big fight scenes. The really interesting stories like "Cap and Widow on the run" and "Tony suffering PTSD" take place in the connecting episodes, but give Joss the big slap-bang fight scenes and let him ad-lib with RDJ for 2 hours... and forgive him for panning the camera over Scarlett Johannesburg's T&A like Michael Bay hopped up on goofballs.

This is also why Guardians of the Galaxy was in every way a better movie than Avengers, despite it having no real right to be. Gauntlet thrown, fanboys. Come at me.

M'sogyny

So here's to you, Joss. A tip of the fedora to someone who I have no idea banks so much goodwill amongst the progressive gender-focused crowd when you have no real right to it.  

The Universal Choad Theory

It occurs to me that I've never explained my Universal Choad Theory. It is quite simple:

At any public gathering of geeks engaged in a competitive group endeavor (this theory was tested whilst playing Magic: the Gathering back in 2002 or so, but any CCG or wargame will do. I suspect this theory would apply to cosplay, but I have yet to see it in action), if you loudly ask the assemblage "So, which one here is The Choad?", a majority of participants will immediately point to one person.

That person is usually the youngest, but not always. Regardless, he is almost always the one who bought the best deck/army to make up for his really shitty tactics. They match his shitty interpersonal skills -- he spits when he gets excited, interrupts constantly, doesn't respect your personal space, is constantly touching your stuff without asking (usually with greasy fingers), doesn't bathe as often as he should, etc. 

Yes, even geeks have pariahs. Every group has its own social dynamic, and even non-standard groups have members that don't fit in with the rest. The Choad isn't seen often in private gatherings, due the majority of people going "Jeez, not THAT guy, if he shows up I'm not playing". But in places like tournaments or open game nights, there's going to be at least one.

It's a tremendous accomplishment to un-choad a choad, but that requires a lot of time, a lot of effort, and a lot of patience. It's possible when they're young, but past a certain age, it's not happening. They're set in their ways. 

You think I'm being exclusionary? Gunnies, I have two words for you:  Leonard Embody. 

Doctor Who Into Darkness

     Ok, it's not actually called that, but that's what I'm calling it anyway. It's what the workprint was labeled (not that *I* watched the workprint, mind you), and I like it. Better, at least, than Honey I Shrunk the Doctor or Journey To The Center of a Dalek. Last week's episode, like so many Doctor-Introductory episodes, was rather weak in the story department. Being a self-confessed fanboy, I squeeed pretty hard, and liked the overall tone of the episode, but the story itself took much too long to get started, and could have been wrapped up more quickly. Onto this week, with a full spoiler warning, as usual, starring the TARDIS chalkboard and Clara's Mom Jeans.

     The Human/Dalek wars are something that's been touched on a few times throughout the series, from the invasion of Earth in 2150 to the imprisonment of Davros in the Fifth Doctor's era, but we rarely get a good look at it. Mostly because a war between Daleks and Humans is expensive, and the show's never had a very high budget until very recently. But Doctor Who Into Darkness shows us what some of those old episodes could have looked like if they'd had the budget.

Image courtesy BBC

     This is an episode which shamelessly cribs from a myriad of other sources both in its own lineage and outside of it, and it does so artfully. It feels like a more visceral version of “I, Borg” from Star Trek: The Next Generation. It's a perfect companion piece to Series 1's “Dalek.” Scenes from this episode, especially the Dalek assault on the ship's bay, look like how my mind's eye remembers seeing some of the Fifth Doctor's episodes, specifically Resurrection of the Daleks. So many parts of this episode look like they were filmed by someone who wanted to recapture some of those old episodes, and as a fan of the classic series, I found that strangely comforting.

     The Doctor has a line, very early on, that sets the tone for the episode (if not his entire character). “She's my carer. She cares, so I don't have to.” Twelve's demeanor is coalescing into a very gruff and dismissive interior masking someone who really is trying to help, whether his intended recipients want it or not. He's a man whose intentions are more important than your hesitation, and his mind works on too fast and on a scale much too large. A companion is probably more important than ever, if only to make him stop and consider the consequences to those around him and act as a translator. And I can't be the only one noticing that he's not careening around the console anymore, instead confidently and calmly throwing a single lever, flipping a lone switch to command the TARDIS. It's almost like he's got a much stronger connection to her now. The banter returns. Twelve and Clara's interactions continue to be a highlight, particularly his Straxian comments about Clara's appearance.

     I like Danny Pink. I sincerely hope that he comes aboard the TARDIS at some point, given the Doctor's blatant distaste for soldiers that's expressed several times throughout the episode. Danny's character, so that we've seen so far, is defined by being insecure, sensitive, and a soldier himself, and I think it might provide an opportunity for growth for both Danny and The Doctor, especially if Clara is orchestrating it. The Doctor's always been against soldiers and warfare in general, and I think it comes through even stronger in this episode given his recent trip through both Trenzalore and his re-visiting the biggest war the universe has ever seen. I also think they're playing it up even more this season to act as a contrast to Danny, and I think we'll see him change his mind, at least a little, later on.

     Atmosphere is where this episode shines, though. It's all mood lighting and tubes and steel surfaces and massive computer equipment, and the soundtrack veers wildly between vintage 80s Who and the more modern Murray Gold scores.

     One last thing that I will credit this episode for: I was absolutely sure that this was aiming for another terrible “Power of Love” ending, much like previous episodes like Fear Her, Closing Time, The Lodger, Last of the Time Lords, and nearly every time the Cybermen have shown up in the new series. I was wrong. It led me on right until the last possible moment, then twisted my expectation like a punch in the gut.

Next week: Think I can't find anything to complain about? Watch me turn practically Scottish for Robin Hood.

One Man's Dream is not necessarily Another Man's Cause

[this review may contain minor spoilers for X-Men: Days of Future Past]

     It's fortuitous and somewhat coincidental that X-Men: Days of Future Past has recently had runaway box office success. It's a story about a man with a dream, a man with a cause, people defending an old establishment, and extremists thinking they're doing the right thing. While it's definitely not the story the comics told us decades ago, I think it benefits for this. Shame about Kitty Pryde, though. Maybe if they'd spent a movie or two developing her as more than a background character instead of making five movies about Wolverine (not that I'm complaining. I love me some Hugh Jackman's Wolverine), the movie would have been able to stand on its own with her as the one going back instead of him.

     But that's not what I want to focus on right now. X-Men has always served as a sometimes subtle, sometimes not-so allegory for minority struggle, and DOFP, in the day of hashtag slacktivism, media bias on both sides, call-out culture, and tumblr-style gender wars, has updated the formula. Xavier and Magneto are there still, but the context has changed.

     Xavier's Dream, which I would like to say that I do, and always have, strongly believed in, is that humans and mutants can peacefully coexist with each other. On top of that, realizing that there would be humans that violently feared mutants and mutants that could justify that fear, he formed his X-Men to defend innocent mutants against the formerly mentioned humans, and innocent humans against the latter mutants. The Dream is fueled by hope, and that Dream cannot survive if fearful and bigoted humans or violent, misguided mutants harm innocents on either side.

     Magneto's Cause, on the other hand, is something that scares me as bad as the aforementioned bigoted and fearful humans. It's much simpler, because it's a cause that's fueled by anger. It's completely black and white. Humans are history, are a threat, should be removed from the equation. Mutants are the future, innocent and blameless, and acting only in defense of their people. Any human that doesn't fit with that equation is simply a tool to be exploited and discarded, and any mutant that doesn't fit is a traitor to their biology.

     The main plot of DOFP revolves around how the act of a single extremist caused the entire world to fall apart, and how those with a Dream and those with a Cause must set aside differences to stop those that would go too far from hurting everyone with their actions. One extremist, Mystique, must be stopped from taking an action that would paint all like her a criminal and a threat, and another extremist must be stopped from using her actions (and her very biology) as a weapon against innocents. It's an effective allegory for the all-too-common people who think they're fighting the good fight, but just aren't helping. 

     I'll close out this thought with a semi-angry statement made a few weeks ago. I think it's still relevant.

“Too many assholes out there thinking they believe in Xavier's Dream but fighting for Magneto's Cause.”

Doctor Wholmes, Interdimensional Detective [part the second: The Rock Star]

     Loud, flashy, larger than life. Impossible to ignore. A surfeit of style. A brilliant mind and a self-awareness of that fact. In this second installment of comparisons, we look at Robert Downey Jr's Sherlock Holmes and David Tennant's Tenth Doctor.

     RDJ's portrayal was (at least prior to the BBC's modern day version) arguably the most famous, with an international film release and (for the first time in over two decades) a theatrical release in the US. The films are loud, flashy, over-the-top, but still with all of the elements necessary to be recognizable as Holmes. In much the same way, David Tennant's run was where Doctor Who reached, and possibly surpassed, it's previous heights of popularity with an audience as wide and as fervent as any you'd see in Tom Baker's day.

     Having gotten over his Time War PTSD, this Doctor knows how to have fun, how to be cocky, and how to get peoples' attention. He moves through the universe leaving a large wake behind him like a geek-chic tornado of cool. Much in the same vein that RDJ's Holmes is an amplified version of the character, Tennant is The Doctor turned up to 11 (I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for that pun). He brings a physicality to the role that had been lacking for a while. The Tenth Doctor is no passive chess-player or wounded soldier. He's out dueling intergalactic cultists within minutes of his first conscious moments, and building a reputation that would scatter armies at the mention of his name, culminating in that moment where he defies the laws of time and is brought down from being "The Time Lord Victorious."

     Much like Tennant's amped up Doctor, RDJ's Holmes is also an amplification, borderlining on exaggeration, of everything that Sherlock Holmes is, was, and could have been. He's brilliant, there's no doubt, but there's a practical application of that brilliance. When combining the way his mind works with the physicality that previous portrayals have lacked, this is a man that steps into a bare-knuckle boxing ring and has won the match before it even starts. And unlike some portrayals, this version (despite having only two films under his belt) is shown traveling a great deal more than some, much like his Time Lord equivalent.

     Tennant's Doctor is also the only one of the relaunch Doctors to square off against his Moriarty, the Master. Contrary to previous appearances, the relationship is also deeper and more contextual. This is not just the hero squaring off against a dangerous enemy. Ten and the Master (as portrayed by John Simm) could believably have been brothers, best of friends, comrades in another life. They are truly equals, one on the side of the angels and the other clearly not, much like Holmes and Moriarty. Much more so than previous incarnations.

Next time: An East wind blows to Trenzalore.

Science!

Still playing catch-up. I have to take my father car shopping this afternoon, so this might be the only chance I have to post something today. Therefore, I present you with this postulate:


I put it to you that bullets are not, in fact, solid. Rather, they are an incompressible fluid that flows from areas of greater concentration (magazines and ammo stores) to areas of lesser concentration (downrange).

I base this conclusion upon these facts:

• Ammunition naturally exists in a state of disorder unless acted upon by an outside force (such as being loaded into a magazine)
• Ammunition naturally seeks the lowest point (drop a box and find out)
• Ammunition, collectively, has a specific volume but no specific shape (empty a box into your range bag)
• Ammunition expands (explosively) when heated 
• Ammunition contracts (albeit slightly) when cooled
• Ammunition of one type will readily mix with ammunition of other types (such as, say, inside an ammo box or your range bag)

I realize this will immediately cause contention based upon the premise that different magazines and firearms will not accept all forms of ammunition. I put it to you that this is a shortcoming with the holding vessels (magazines) and bullet-permeable membranes (firearms) and not with the ammunition. After all, will not a Taurus Judge fire both .410 shotshells and .45 Long Colt?

Discuss amongst yourselves. 

Sense and Incense-ability

One of the things I detest most in life are people who try to debate feelings as if they are a factual position.

Them: "I have strong feelings that something must be done about X, so let's do something about it!"

Me: "This will cause far more problems than it will solve, because A, B, and C. Let's find a solution that doesn't make things worse in the long run."

Them: instead of rebutting with "Well, why don't we try 1, 2, 3?" they instead say "You're unfeeling and callous! We must doooooo something!"

This is what it sounds like in my head:

Them: "Green Lantern rings are awesome! We need to immediately start making them so we can fight crime and prevent disasters through the power of green willpower!

Me: "While that would indeed be cool, we haven't the first idea how to make something like that. Hard light constructs, a power source that fits in a ring, the interface between thought and action... that will take billions of dollars of research over a scale of years, if not decades, for something that may not even be possible. Why don't we spend that money on a more effective police force and an improved early-warning system for disasters?"

Them:  "YOU JUST DON'T CARE ABOUT ALL THE PEOPLE WHO COULD BE SAVED BY HAL JORDAN!"

If you wish, you may substitute "Jedi Training" or "TARDISes" for Green Lantern rings if it better suits your fandom.

Monday Gunday Guest Post: A .45 for 45 years

This guest post is by Rob Reed. Rob is an firearms instructor, gun geek, gamer, and fan. You can find more of his writing at his Michigan Firearms Examiner column.

Image from Indy Gear

I was a teenager when Raiders of the Lost Ark was originally released. From the first moment I was caught up, and Indiana Jones quickly became one of my favorite fictional heroes alongside Capt. Kirk, Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. I mention that because it plays into what comes next.

I turned 45 earlier this year and thought the best way to commemorate the milestone was to buy a 45 caliber handgun. I already had a couple 1911’s so instead I picked the United States Revolver, Caliber 45, M1917, also known as the Smith & Wesson Model 1917.

The S&W M1917 was developed during World War I when the U.S. Army desperately needed handguns and 1911 (no “A1” yet) production could not keep up with demand. Instead of trying to add another 1911 manufacturer, the government instead asked S&W (and later Colt) to modify an existing revolver design to fire the standard .45 ACP cartridge as used by the 1911. This would provide the needed handguns while avoiding the logistical problems of adding a new handgun caliber.

(Editor's Note:  See this previous Monday Gunday post for an explanation of the differences between .45 Colt and .45 ACP.)

Smith & Wesson took their Hand Ejector, Second Model (HE 2), rechambered it to .45 ACP, cut down the cylinder a bit and, in a stroke of brilliance, invented the sheet steel “half-moon clip” to allow the rimless .45 ACP rounds to load and headspace correctly. Each half-moon clip held three rounds and tossing in two clips to load the cylinder was much quicker than loading cartridges one at a time.

Even though I collect military firearms, and the M1917 has a distinguished military association, that wasn't why I picked it as my birthday gun. The real reason is much simpler: The HE2/Model 1917 is Indiana Jones’ gun: This is the gun he tossed in a suitcase while talking about what a “cautious guy” he was, this is the gun he used to save Marion as her bar burned around her, and this is the gun he used to show why you shouldn’t bring a sword to a gunfight in the movie’s funniest scene. The big S&W is as an iconic part of his character as his Fedora or leather jacket.

In “Raiders” there were actually two prop guns; one in Europe and a second in the U.S. The European gun was a HE 2 in .455 Eley, and the U.S. gun was a commercial M1917 in .45 ACP, identical to the military model except for markings. Both wore checkered commercial style grips instead of plain military grips and both had their 5’5” barrels cut down to a handier 4”. Since the movie prop is based on a real gun, and a relatively common one (as collectibles go), I’d always planned to own one someday, and my Birthday proved the impetus I needed to find one.

I found this gun through a friend. It’s a military 1917 that retains most of its original bluing. (Most were Parkerized between the wars.) Some previous owner swapped out the original smooth military grips for checkered commercial grips. Since the commercial grips are correct for Indy’s gun, this is actually a plus for me.

I had planned to cut the barrel down to 4” to more closely match the movie prop, but I decided the gun is too nice to mess with the originality that much. No one but a die-hard fan will know the difference anyway.

I’ve had the gun at the range a couple times. The first time I was dropping steel plates, six for six, at about 12 yards with no problem. On the second trip I was able to shoot at paper at 25 yards and discovered that, even with the small sights, the gun is a shooter. I could consistently keep all my shots pretty well centered on a paper plate shooting both single-action and double-action. Not bad for a 92 year old gun and 45 year old eyes.

This Indy gun (sort of) replica now goes with my Indy jacket replica into that weird area where my fandom and real world collide. I may not be Indiana Jones, but I’ve got his gun!

Pony Genetics Explained!

Someone pointed me to this and I just had to share it, because not only is it about My Little Pony, but it is also a geeky treatise on a geeky subject. 

Or, as Princess Luna would say...

BEHOLD! THE GEEKINESS HAS BEEN DOUBLED!   /RoyalCanterlotVoice

(To properly view the picture:  Right click on image; select "Open link in new tab"; click to embiggen.)

If I can find out who made this, I will ask their permission if I can include it in Unknown Ponies.  

I have to confess, I'm tempted

Admittedly, I'm no longer in the D.C. metro area, so my temptation status is purely academic. However. who among us would not entertain this notion, even if only for a moment?

Woman DM needed for D&D based Adult Bachelor Party (Pringe George's County, MD)

Description:
Looking for a woman with Dungeon Master experience in Dungeons and Dragons (specifically 3.0 or 3.5 editions) to run a game. The event is for a Bachelor Party and the "future husband to be" would prefer if the DM could be topless. With that said, I ensure you that nothing else is expect of you other than an exciting adventure.

Oh come on. You're totally thinking about it right now.

Crowlander

Aha, you have fallen for my cunning ploy! Now I shall tell you why I think The Crow is a Highlander movie in disguise.

First things first: it has nothing to do with Eric Draven. He's a revenant, a ghost given flesh in order to extract revenge. No, the real reason for "Crowlander" is Top Dollar. Sure, he's a charismatic psychopath who rules a criminal empire, but I maintain he's also an immortal.

Exhibit 1: A Closet Full of Swords
Knives? Sure, he's a villain. One sword? Why not, he's filthy rich, he can be eccentric. But an entire armory of swords? Easily accessible? That he's clearly practiced with?

There's also the fact that this man, who clearly must have enemies both in the police and organized crime, doesn't carry a sidearm. In fact, he has to borrow one from his bodyguard.

Okay, yes, by itself this isn't convincing. Moving on...

Exhibit 2: Intelligent Anti-Immortal Tactics
All right, so in the previous example Top Dollar hears from a trusted lieutenant and a groveling flunky that there's a guy out there who gets shot/jumps out of windows/etc and keeps on trucking in his quest for vengeance, and this doesn't faze him in the least. He doesn't question the apparent insanity of it all. He just goes "Hmm, that's interesting."

So when he arranges things to have Draven's last person on the "to-kill" list in the room with him, he also arranges to be surrounded by dozens of armed goons. This is good strategy, because as we've learned from the Highlander films and TV show, immortals can be killed conventionally -- they just don't stay dead. So obviously his plan is for his goons to shoot Draven, whereupon Top Dollar can take his rival's head easily.

Except that he's surprised when Draven shows up, because he doesn't get that characteristic "buzz" immortals get when they meet each other. So he thinks that, maybe, this guy is just a loon hopped up on drugs.

And then he is totally gobsmacked when it turns out his opponent is immortal after all.

Also: a katana shows up in this fight scene. Because when I think of "Immortal Scottish warriors," I think of ancient samurai swords. 

Exhibit 3: Running to Holy Ground
Because that's what you do when you're immortal and you don't want to fight another one. Why else would this incredibly rich, incredibly dangerous man hide in an old abandoned cathedral?

Also, kindly note how neither his bodyguard nor his sister are all freaked out by this. "He has power you can take," she says, and T.D. replies with "I like him already." Even as he's running for his life, Top Dollar is planning how best to take Draven's Quickening.

Exhibit 4: Swordfighting in a Lightning Storm
Some of you may be asking, "What about the proscription against fighting on holy ground?"  Well, first, that prohibition is only between immortals.  So when T.D. has his assassin take a shot at Draven's totem bird, that's allowable. And when that results in Draven losing his powers, Top Dollar now knows for certain that he isn't fighting another immortal... and therefore the rules don't apply.

If you're a fan of the series, you know that electricity is a metaphor for the Quickening, so it's no surprise that the final battle of the movie takes place where there is lots and lots of it about. Oh, and look, Top Dollar uses another katana.

Conclusion: Top Dollar is an Immortal
The only question this begs is, "What happened to him afterwards, since his head wasn't taken?" To my mind, there are two possibilities.

One possibility is that his hired goons in the police department -- come on, if you're an immortal crimelord you're going to have some cops in your pocket -- pulled him out of the morgue and falsified the burial data. After this he probably spent the rest of his life hiding from ghost-men before another immortal (probably Duncan) took his head.

Another is that the supernatural vengeance of Draven ("Thirty hours of pain. All at once! All for you!") was able to short-circuit immortal healing, leaving Top Dollar permanently brain-dead, if not dead-dead.

Either way: he was totally an immortal in that movie.

Monday Gunday: Perhaps the Geekiest Thing I Have Ever Done

I am a big ol' geek, as I think you all know. Thus, I have done many, many geeky things in my life. But this is probably the geekiest thing I have ever done:

I almost wish this were an Avtomat Kalashnikova instead of a Mosin-Nagant. Then it could be an AK AK.

"You want to talk wands? This is my wand. 48 inches of Killing Curse. My Avada Kevadra comes chambered in 7.62x54R."