Poem: I Can't Wait to Meet Me

 I wrote this poem while excitedly thinking about my future. I have so many high hopes for myself and enjoy the work that I'm doing to build the foundation that will lead to that brilliant future. Results are not immediate, but the most fulfilling goals are never short sighted.

Here's to the future me:

I can't wait to meet the future me.
He must be so happy and free.
To look at all this pain gone by
And see nothing but building blocks headed for the sky.

I can't wait to meet the future me.
Bruised and battered, but brimming with glee.
To know that the scars and tears will heal,
That the will to live is finally clear.

I can't wait to meet the future me.
Who smiles as he does what was always meant to be.
Though no one had supported or lent a hand,
He pulled himself together and can finally stand.

Head held high, shoulders relaxed,
I can't wait to meet me and finally ask:
How does it feel to truly be you, at last?

Short and sweet. What do you think?

Stopping to Smell the Flowers

 

Rebus stops to smell some flowers. Art by me.

There is so much happening right now! I mean, in general, sure. But just in my individual life I have so much going on. Sometimes I can get a bit overwhelmed with how much there is to do that I forgot to take a moment to breathe.

I am currently writing another book. I have 5 in the tank, all of which want to get written at once. Ideas for each one flood through my brain nearly every second of my day. I'm trying to focus in on one at a time, but sheesh! Working on one spurs new insight into the others and creates this constant reexamination of story, characters, locations, etc.

All part of the process, I suppose. And perhaps even a good problem to have. But I do tend to wander off into my writing zone and completely forget to keep up with other things. Like this blog!

I hope you enjoyed this short rant as confirmation that I still live!

No Man's Sky Is My Happy Place

 

I always have a hard time choosing a game to play. Some take a lot of investment. Not only time-wise, but also in terms of focus. Sitting down to play Street Fighter 6, for example, throws me into a fast-paced mode of quick execution and reaction time. Loading up God of War or Ghost of Tsushima, on the other hand, frees me of intense button combo memorization, but thrusts me into deep storylines and engaging dialogue that that often make demands on me emotionally (I get into it!). Thankfully, when I just want to blissfully unwind at the end of a long day, there are games like No Man's Sky.

No Man's Sky is an incredibly vast open world (universe) game of endless possibilities. The generative model of the game produces galaxies upon galaxies full of stars, planets, and space stations for players to explore. Every planet never visited by another player you can discover, meaning you can name it (as well as its plants, minerals, and animals) and upload that information into the games core server. And this can go on and on. In terms of size, I could honestly play this game in single-player mode for years and never stumble upon another players discoveries. I could spend weeks on a single planet, just exploring its landscapes, mining minerals, trading with merchants and scavenging abandoned outposts. Of course, you are equipped with tools and a space ship to cut that time down exponentially if you so choose. There are countless missions available that will have you hopping across multiple planets and galaxies in a single play session.

It is the best casual game I have ever played, personally. The sheer size of it, as well as the ability of choice in play style and pace makes it an endlessly satisfying escape for those of us who love to just kick back and let the digital wind blow us in whatever direction we so feel in the moment. Who could say no to such freedom?

ATLA Live-Action: Not All Fans are the Same

 I'm a huge fan of adaptations. Honestly, I am. Unlike remakes, adaptations bring with them the excitement of change. They're not meant to be frame-for-frame, word-for-word translations of their source material. I often look forward to what kind of changes will come, with the hope that they will expand on what already exists and forge new insight into the original's world. But dammit, adaptations sure are hit and miss.

When the live-action Avatar: the Last Airbender series was announced, there was an incredible wave of excitement. Many of us were understandably wary, but things looked good at the start. The original creators were on board and Netflix's general reputation of quality content (however long they last) gave us some assurance. Things fell apart toward the end, however, when the original creators once again stepped away due to "creative differences" and the list of odd changes to the story and its characters signaled a lot of red flags. But many of us held out and gave the show a shot.

Now, there has been a great amount of discourse surrounding this show. New and old fans have been clashing online over just about every aspect of the new series. Whether in support of or against it, there are interesting points to be made on both sides. But there is one fundamental issue that sits at the source of all this. Not every ATLA fan is the same, and an opinion greatly depends on what it is about the original that they connect with the most.

For me, spirituality sat as the essence of the original series. It is what both drew me in and kept me watching season after season. The world of Avatar was so vast and everything within it held significance, but an underlying spiritual presence was at the core of it all. The majority of screen time followed our main cast of human characters, but the encounters with animals and spirits of the world felt just as important. In some cases, more so. They were given equal weight and treatment in terms of presentation and storytelling.

The new ATLA live-action failed to deliver on that depth of spirituality, which led to my personal disconnect from it. The show made many changes that I can forgive and adapt to, but this departure was too much. Two key moments in particular stood out amongst them all.

Toph learning how to earthbend from the badgermoles.

In the Avatar world, badgermoles are noble creatures. Their history places them as the inspiration of modern earthbending. They are blind, music loving beasts that would never hurt anyone unless provoked. Their movements are powerful, yet restrained. You can see how many earthbending techniques are derived from the way they carefully navigate their environments, shifting their weight around in order to manipulate the earth around them. It is one of the things I enjoyed most about the animated series.

In the live-action, however, it seems all of that was thrown away. What was a peaceful, noble beast is instead introduced to us as a savage attacker. The badgermole shown in the live-action angrily engages Katara and Sokka, unprovoked and snarling viciously until it is calmed. Then, when it turns to depart the scene, it throws its body against a nearby wall and claws away at it like a rabid dog.

The second most notable instance was the treatment of the ocean spirit in the season's finale (yes I stuck with it to the end). In the original series, this is one of the most iconic moments. After witnessing the murder of its partner, the ocean spirit takes control of the Avatar in order to enact its revenge. Using the Avatar as a catalyst, it takes on a massive form and lays waste to the fire nation forces. The most beautiful thing about this moment, is that it is done in relevant silence. After the initial line of "No, it's not over," the ocean spirit takes action with nothing but a powerful score backing its actions. As a spirit as old as time, there is a great level of reservation in its attacks. It moves gracefully through the northern water tribe's village, calmly and effortlessly laying waste to the fire nation soldiers in its path. I find it difficult to explain, but the power of this spirit is quite clearly displayed through its peaceful rage.

In the live action, the ocean spirit is presented as (once again) a shell of its origin. Aang is given the introductory line as if he has control of the situation and is choosing the bond with the spirit. Then, after bonding with the Avatar and taking its massive form, the ocean spirit is reduced (as with the badgermole) to a roaring beast, flailing violently in its rage. And as if the spirit were not present in the preceding scene, Princess Yue comments that, in its rage, it is doomed to walk the earth, forever searching for its love.

This is a spirit as old as time, with powers far beyond that of any of the characters we know. Its display of power was a testament to the underlying story of how separated the physical and spiritual worlds had become. There was a strong message within the way in which it took control of the mindless human war that had interfered with its peaceful existence. The ocean spirit having full autonomy and power over the situation was a key moment in laying the roots of future storytelling within the Avatar-verse. It, again, felt like a cheap dilution of what I believed to be an important aspect of the original show.

Now, I could honestly write a thesis paper on all the changes the live action made that took away from the original rather than add to it. However, as I stated earlier, the key factor in connecting with the new adaptation (or not) is figuring out what it is that drew you to the original series in the first place. For a lot of folks, so long as the bending looked cool, they were in. For others, all it took was the presence of a certain character. The pool of fans is incredibly large, but no two fans are the same. We all connect to the series in a myriad of ways and, therefore, our opinions would divert no matter what direction a new series or adaptation went in. The most important thing is to just let things be. If there are people who enjoy the new show, let them. And if some of us need to part ways with it due to lack of connection, let us be. There really isn't any reason for the combative discourse.

And who knows? Maybe another season or two will give this show the ability to grow into something we can all love and appreciate.