Tag: history

The Decline and Fall of Fandom and the Hugo Awards

Lately, I’ve taken a serious interest in family history. A huge amount of records have gone online in the past decade, making it far easier to trace your ancestors. Before that, my father was able to trace the Vasicek line to the Czech lands (places with cool names like Frenštát, Vratimov, Trojanovice, Staříč, etc), but that was as far as he could go. Just a couple of years ago, however, my sister found the parish records for that region. They’re mostly all scanned and online, and they go back as far as the late 15th century to the start of the Hapsburgs. The pieces are all there—all we have to do is put them together.

Needless to say, this has got me really excited. It also made me wonder: how far back is it possible go? According to my sister, who is also a certified genealogist, the European records start to get really sketchy around the 7th or 8th century. Only the royal lines go back that far, and since they were all trying to connect themselves to mythical figures and Biblical characters, the records are not very reliable.

So I went to Wikipedia to look up the period of Late Antiquity leading up to the 7th century, and soon became completely absorbed in it. This is the period when the Roman Empire collapsed, leaving Europe in a hot mess. The Vandals, Franks, Goths, Visigoths, Ostrogoths, Huns, and Saxons were running around all over the place, sometimes fighting for the Romans, sometimes fighting against them, constantly fighting each other, and migrating clear across the continent in their search for new homelands.

As clear as I can make it out, this is how it basically went down:

There once was a tribe on the Italian penninsula that built a city called Rome. Through innovations in engineering, warfare, governance, and philosophy, they conquered virtually all of the known world and built a mighty empire. Rome became legendary as the center of it all.

Over time, however, the Romans became decadent and corrupt. The empire slowly began to disintegrate and fall apart, though great pains were taken to preserve the appearance that all was well. By the end of the third century, it had effectively split into two halves: the eastern empire and the western empire. This division fell roughly along cultural lines: the Greco-Roman culture in the east, and the Latin-Roman culture in the west.

Around this time, a barbarian tribe (or alliance of tribes) appeared on the northeastern frontiers of the empire. Known as the Huns, these barbarians launched an invasion of Europe that completely shuffled the deck. They only briefly threatened the Romans, but had a much larger impact on the barbarian tribes of Europe, displacing them from their homelands and forcing them to seek a new home. This launched what is known as the migration period.

There were a lot of barbarian tribes seeking a new homeland: the Franks, the Saxons, the Goths, Visigoths, Ostrogoths, and the Vandals. With the Huns at their backs, they invaded the Roman Empire, which was the weaker of the two.

…except “invade” isn’t quite the right word. Many of these tribes became allies or foederati of the Romans (often after defeating them). Even some Hunnic tribes were absorbed into the empire in this way, and were often employed as mercenaries to fight against the Frankish, Gothic, and Vandal tribes that hadn’t allied with Rome. The salient point is that Rome had become weak, and thus had to make concessions to these barbarians who were starting to flood the empire.

At the end of the fourth century, a tribe of Visigoths that had settled in the eastern empire became upset with the way that the Romans were treating them. After being starved, taxed, and treated as sub-human, they took up arms under a leader named Alaric the First. They were unable to make much headway against the eastern empire, so instead they went west and invaded the Italian penninsula.

Over the course of the next two decades, the western empire vacillated between accomodating them, backstabbing them, and declaring outright war. This was mostly due to internal power struggles that had little to do with the Visigoths. Even though Alaric threatened the heart of the western empire and laid seige to Rome three times, they treated him with outright contempt, blatantly violating previous agreements and going so far as to ambush him under a flag of truce.

In 408, the internal power struggle eliminated the faction that was willing to accomodate the Visigoths. Shortly thereafter, Alaric decided that he’d had enough and marched on Rome. In 410, he sacked the city, shocking the civilized world.

Up until that point, Rome was considered sacrosanct. Sure, the barbarians were overrunning the frontiers and threatening vast swaths of the empire, but Rome was the cultural and spiritual center of the world. How could it possibly fall? But it did, and following the sack in 455 at the hands of the Vandals, the Roman Empire never regained its former glory.

Reading up on this history at the same time as the 2015 Hugo Awards played out has made me notice a bunch of similarities between the two events. Obviously, the decline and fall of Rome is not a perfect analogy for the decline and fall of the Hugo Awards, but there are some very interesting parallels.

The Hugo Awards were founded in the 1950s, back when SF&F fandom was a tiny community of geeks on the fringes of society, and not taken seriously by anyone in the cultural mainstream. Over the next several decades, the geeks took over the world, dominating the popular culture with things like Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, etc.

But somewhere along the way, this happened:

Fandom (with a capital F) became decadent and corrupt as the Truefen jealously guarded their turf, creating all sorts of weird Hugo categories (“related work”? “short-form” editor vs. “long-form” editor?) and pushing back against the mainstreaming of the SF&F field. As a result, Worldcon went from the premier SF&F convention to a second-tier convention that falls well short of Dragoncon, Gencon, San Diego Comic Con, Salt Lake Comic Con and Fan Ex, etc, all of which are 1-2 orders of magnitude larger than Worldcon now. The once-prestigious Hugos were now decided by mere hundreds of votes.

Around this time, a tribe (or alliance of tribes) of cultural Marxists began to invade the cultural space. Also known as Social Justice Warriors (SJWs), they began to dominate multiple forms of media, pushing out many of the more conservative readers and viewers who resisted. Fandom (with a capital F) gradually embraced them, using them as mercenaries in their internal power struggles.

By this time, Fandom had split into two broad divisions: Baen and Tor. Baen books were more about action & adventure, while Tor books were more about social issues (though of course there was some overlap). These two houses dominated the field, but it was the Tor side of Fandom that had more ownership in the Hugos than the Baen side.

The SF&F fans who had been displaced by the SJW invasion formed the Sad Puppies and Rabid Puppies. To Fandom, however, they were all just “wrongfans”—essentially, barbarians. And it wouldn’t exactly be right to say that the puppies “invaded” Fandom, because many of them were already there or were willing to coexist and make alliances. Others, of course, were not.

Vox Day entered the scene as one of the disgruntled puppies who had had enough of Fandom. The Tor side was far more susceptible to his machinations, responding to him in knee-jerk fashion at every turn, so he went after them. In 2015, he sacked the Hugos, causing “no award” to sweep five categories (and place in eight more).

To an impartial observer, Vox Day was the only clear victor of the 2015 Hugo Awards. How else can you explain all the “no awards”? His stated goal was never to win the Hugos, it was to destroy them, and he accomplished that spectacularly. When an esteemed professional such as Toni Weisskopf loses to “no award” purely out of guilt by association (on a ballot decided by less than 6,000 total votes, no less), how can anyone possibly take the Hugos seriously anymore? What was once considered the most prestigious award in the SF&F field has now proven to be a narrow, exlusivist club of politically like-minded elitists.

Fandom (capital F) accomplished many wonderful things back in the days before SF&F entered the mainstream. In a very real sense, they conquered the world. But by doggedly trying to hold on to their turf and refusing to let others play with their toys, especially those who see the world differently than them, they are declining. Like the sack of Rome in 410, the sack of the Hugo Awards in 2015 was a watershed moment that demonstrated just how much the old order had decayed.

Can the Hugo Awards be saved? I seriously doubt it. The “truefans” will jealously clutch it to their chests until they die, and with the graying of fandom, that will probably be accomplished fairly soon. But just as the Renaissance rose from the long-cold ashes of the Roman Empire, so too I hope that something good will eventually come out of all of this. Because really, there is a place in fandom (lower-case f) for everyone, and that has never changed.

Of pioneers and politics

Today is Pioneer Day here in Utah, where we celebrate the achievements and heritage of the Mormon Pioneers. One hundred and sixty-eight years ago today, Brigham Young looked over the Salt Lake Valley (a barely hospitable desert at the time) and declared “this is the place.”

I feel a great deal of pride for my pioneer heritage. My ancestors walked across the plains in the Willie Handcart Company, they organized one of the most successful cooperatives of the United Order, they fought in the Utah Wars, and they built numerous cities across the Intermountain West. Before the pioneer exodus, they built and later abandoned the Nauvoo Temple, endured the horrible conditions at Winter Quarters, and left trails of bloody footprints as they fled their homes and lands during the Missouri persecutions.

One of my direct-line ancestors was Lyman Wight, leader of the Mormon Militia. When the Missouri mobs captured the Mormon leadership and a kangaroo court sentenced them all to death, Lyman Wight’s reputation was so fierce that the mob hesitated to execute him. They offered to let him free if he would renounce Joseph Smith.

Lyman Wight looked the Missourians in the eye and said “Joseph Smith is the best friend you ever had.”

The leaders of the mob asked him why he said that.

He told them: “if it weren’t for Joseph Smith, I would have slit all your throats years ago.”

The mob then threatened to execute him. Lyman Wight answered without hesitation:

“Shoot, and be damned.”

None of the members of the mob dared to execute him, fearing that his ghost would haunt them to the end of their days.

There are tons and tons of stories like that in my family, and even more that belong to my friends. History is alive here in Utah, where monuments to our pioneer heritage are scattered throughout the state.

The Mormon corridor has a very unique subculture compared to the rest of the United States. It’s a unique and sometimes paradoxical blend of individualism and collectivism, of self-reliance and communal spirit, of libertarian ideals and obedience to moral authority. To an outsider, I’m sure it must be extremely perplexing, but there’s nowhere else in the United States where I feel so totally at home. These are my people. This is my home.

upinarms-map-largeThat’s why I found this map of the “eleven American nations” so fascinating. According to the corresponding Washington Post article, almost all of the battles in the culture wars can be explained by the lines on this map. Furthermore, the mobility of American society is causing these regional differences to grow sharper as Americans pick up and move to the places where the dominant culture best suits them.

A further explanation can be found here, where the author of the map (and the book American Nations) states:

The borders of my eleven American nations are reflected in many different types of maps—including maps showing the distribution of linguistic dialects, the spread of cultural artifacts, the prevalence of different religious denominations, and the county-by-county breakdown of voting in virtually every hotly contested presidential race in our history. Our continent’s famed mobility has been reinforcing, not dissolving, regional differences, as people increasingly sort themselves into like-minded communities, a phenomenon analyzed by Bill Bishop and Robert Cushing in The Big Sort (2008). Even waves of immigrants did not fundamentally alter these nations, because the children and grandchildren of immigrants assimilated into whichever culture surrounded them.

The thing that I find most fascinating about this map is how closely the borders of the Far West “nation” parallel the State of Deseret, first proposed by Brigham Young and the Mormon pioneers. The Mormons didn’t get along very well with Congress, and the territory was eventually pared down to the current boundaries of the state of Utah (the name “Deseret” was also replaced). But cultural boundaries cannot be declared by presidents or kings.

According to the author, the development of this region “was largely directed by corporations headquartered in distant New York, Boston, Chicago, or San Francisco, or by the federal government, which controlled much of the land.” I’m not so sure that’s the case, however. Corporations certainly became important players after the railroads crossed the country, but culturally, I would argue the pioneers had a much deeper and more lasting impact.

The Intermountain West is remarkably conservative, with Utah ranking as one of the reddest states in the nation. With the government expansion under President Obama and the Tea Party revolt in the Republican party, the politics in this part of the country have taken a decidedly libertarian turn. As issues like healthcare, gun control, gay marriage, and late-term abortion have each swept the nation in turn, my positions have changed to reflect the libertarian attitudes of the culture in which I live.

In 2008, I considered myself “agnostic” as far as politics were concerned. Perhaps there was a greater truth out there as far as politics were concerned, but I wanted nothing to do with it. Now, however, I believe very strongly that individuals and families should be free to live their lives as they see fit, without being subject to Leftist schemes to redistribute their wealth or bloated, self-serving government that overreaches its constitutional bounds.

I think this view would resonate very deeply with the pioneers. They came to the West to practice their religion freely, and emphasized self-reliance and thrift. Their industriousness was a means of guarding their independence from the governments that had oppressed them in the east, and continued to oppress them as they sought to build their Zion. Though they could be quite collectivist at times, it was local and voluntary, a far cry from State-enforced socialism. And while they cared for the poor and needy, they did all they could to keep them from becoming dependent on welfare.

These are interesting times we live in, and interesting cultures we hail from as well. As I look back on my own pioneer heritage, I can’t help but look forward as well. The “shoot and be damned” independent streak of my ancestors is still with me today, and I have no doubt that pioneer spirit will continue to guide me in the future.

E is for Empire

terran_empireAlmost every far future science fiction story has a galactic empire of some kind.  From Dune to Foundation, from Star Wars to Firefly, there’s always someone trying to rule the galaxy, often in a way that makes life difficult for the protagonists.

Why?  Rule of drama, of course, but also because it gives the story a truly epic scope.  Just as the classics such as Homer’s Iliad and Tolstoy’s War and Peace are as much about entire civilizations as they are about the people characters within them, so it is with science fiction, especially space opera.  Combine that with science fiction’s forward-thinking nature, and you have the potential for some truly amazing stories about humanity’s destiny among the stars.

But why empire?  Because even if we make it out to the stars, we’ll probably still take with us all of the baggage that makes us human.  Science fiction may be forward looking, but history repeats itself, and you can’t have a clear view of the future without understanding and acknowledging the past.

Not all galactic empires are evil, but most of them are.  We shouldn’t have to look further than the real-world history of Imperialism to see why.  Oppression, exploitation, slavery, genocide–all of these have been done in the name of Empire, and many more evils besides.  Even benevolent hegemonic powers (such as, I would argue, the United States of America) often end up doing great harm, either through action or inaction.

Of course, all of this makes for some really great stories.  When Asimov wrote his Foundation series, he quite literally based it on The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon.  When Frank Herbert wrote Dune, he drew extensively from his background as an orientalist and based the overworld story on the Muslim conquests of the 7th and 8th centuries.  Star Wars is based loosely on the collapse of the Roman Republic, and Firefly echoes many of the old Western tales of former Confederate soldiers heading west after the US Civil War.

It’s worth pointing out that the Galactic Empire is by no means the only form of political organization in space opera.  There are actually several, including:

  • The Federation — A loose organization of stars and planets that usually exists to foster cooperation and mutual peace between galactic civilizations.  Rarely evil, but can be crippled by red tape.
  • The Republic — A more centralized version of the Federation, typically.  Exercises more control over its citizens, but not in an oppressive way.  Usually features some form of representative government.
  • The Alliance — A team of political underdogs united to overthrow the Empire and establish a more just form of government in its place.  If they win, they usually become the Republic or the Federation.
  • The Kingdom — A smaller government within the larger political system, often struggling for survival against more powerful forces. Not always democratic, but is often good, at least to its own citizens.
  • The Hegemonic Empire — Like the Empire, but rules primarily through soft power, ie co-opting their enemies rather than crushing them.  May overlap with the Republic or the Federation.
  • The People’s Republic of Tyranny — The Empire pretending to be the Federation.
  • The Vestigial Empire — What the Empire becomes when it’s been defeated but not yet destroyed.  Still oppressive and evil, but rules a smaller territory and struggles for relevance and survival.
  • The Remnant — An element from the Alliance that’s gone rogue.  The war may be over, but these guys are still fighting it, even if they’ve lost sight of what they’re fighting for.
  • The Horde — A highly aggressive and expansionist warlord state.  By far the most violent and brutal of any political organization, it seeks to conquer and subjugate the entire galaxy.

As a political science major, all these forms of government really fascinate me.  I’ve played with quite a few of them, especially the Horde (Bringing Stella Home), the Empire (Desert Stars), the Hegemonic Empire (Star Wanderers), the Kingdom (Stars of Blood and Glory), and the Remnant (also Stars of Blood and Glory).  You can definitely expect to see me play with them again in the future.

Continue reading E is for Empire

The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara

June, 1863.  In a bid to destroy the Army of the Potomac, Robert E. Lee invades Pennsylvania with an army of 70,000 men.  Using the mountains to screen his movements, he advances toward Harrisburg, fully expecting to secure a victory that will end the American Civil War.

But two weeks into the campaign, Stuart’s cavalry still hasn’t reported back, leaving the Confederate army blind.  Deep in enemy territory, with reports of the Union advance beginning to trickle in, Lee moves his forces to converge on a small town named Gettysburg.

In the titanic clash that follows, friend will fight against brother, generals will knowingly send thousands of men to their deaths, and the fate of the United States of America will lie in the hands of farmers and mountain men, immigrants, West Point classmates, and a New England professor.

This book is awesome.  Epic, in the best and truest sense of the word.  I’m not a civil war buff, but it reduced me to tears.  The scope is tremendous, and yet at the same time the characters feel like real people.

For some, like Chamberlain, the war is about slavery and equality–something that disturbs him when he comes across a black man for the first time.  For others, it’s about states’ rights and self-government.  But for most everybody else–including Robert E. Lee–it’s about a myriad of other things, like honor, duty to country, boredom, a desire to prove one’s manhood, and a hunger to be part of something greater.

What’s remarkable is how so many good people, who more often than not respect the opposing side and hold them in the highest regard, end up getting swept into such a horrific and bloody battle.  No one, especially the generals, have the power to prevent any of it–all they can do is leave it in the hands of God.  And the tragedy of it all is summed up so perfectly in the film rendition of this book, when General Armistead reaches the high-water mark of the Confederacy and falls, only to hear that his friend and classmate on the Union side, General Hancock, has fallen too (skip to 23:15):

“Not both of us!  Not all of us!  Please, God!”

I’ve been to Gettysburg several times, and stood on the ground where the most critical parts of the battle were decided.  And yet, I feel that living as an expat on  the other side of the world has given me a much greater appreciation of my country’s history.  Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why this book was so moving to me at this time.

Here are some of my favorite quotes:

He was a man to depend  on, and there was this truth about war: it taught you the men you could depend on.

According to the now retired General Schwarzkopf, The Killer Angels is “the best and most realistic novel about war that I have ever read.” You really get a sense of what it’s like to be in command–what it’s like to depend on the actions of your men, and what goes through your mind as you lead them.  The only other novel I’ve read that comes close to capturing that is Ender’s Game.

If the war goes on–and it will, it will–what else can we do but go on?  It is the same question forever, what else can we do?  If they fight, we will fight with them.  And does it matter after all who wins?  Was that ever really the question?  Will God ask that question, in the end?”

Robert E. Lee’s words after the Confederate defeat on the third day.  There is, of course, some criticism about how much artistic license Michael Shaara took in portraying the central historical figures.  Regardless, this novel gave me a much greater respect for Lee and his men.  There are no “bad guys” in this book–and therein lies the heart of the tragedy.

In the presence of real tragedy you feel neither pain nor joy nor hatred, only a sense of enormous space and time suspended, the great doors open to black eternity, the rising across the terrible field of that last  enormous, unanswerable question.

Well put.  I’ve never experienced any tragedy on the scale of the American Civil War, but I do know what it’s like to lose family and loved ones, and this captured a bit of that for me.  I can only imagine what it must be like to experience the tragedy of war.

This novel is a classic.  If you have any interest in American history, it is absolutely a must-read.  And even if you don’t, if you enjoy reading stories about war, whether modern, historical, or fantasy, you will almost certainly enjoy this book.

Trope Tuesday: Freudian Trio

Last week, I blogged about the Three Faces of Eve trope.  But if we’re going to discuss power trios in any depth, we first need to examine the classic Freudian Trio, one of the most prevalent combos and, in some ways, a precursor to all others.

As you might expect, the Freudian Trio borrows heavily from Sigmund Freud, specifically, his theory of the Id, the Ego, and the Superego.   The main idea is that the human mind is divided into three parts: the Id, which comprises our basest animal instincts; the Superego, which comprises our concepts of morality and social norms; and the Ego, which struggles to find a balance between the two.

In the Freudian Trio, these elements of the psyche are represented by:

Each of these character archetypes are fascinating in their own right, and deserve to be examined in much greater depth.  However, in the Freudian Trio, it’s the combination of the three that proves so fascinating.

When faced with an interesting moral dilemma, the McCoy often wants to screw the rules and run in with guns blazing, while the Spock advocates caution, reminding us of the prime directive.  Or maybe the McCoy is paralyzed by indecision, while the Spock is the only one cold enough to make the sadistic choice.  In either case, the way the Kirk manages to resolve it will almost always reveal something deeper about the world or human nature.

The thing that’s truly amazing is how prevalent this trope is in fiction.  To name a few:

  • Star Trek: McCoy (Id), Spock (Superego), and Kirk (Ego).
  • Star Wars: Han (Id), Leia (Superego), and Luke (Ego), also:
  • Star Wars: Emperor Palpatine (Id), Grand Moff Tarkin (Superego), and Darth Vader (Ego).
  • Ender’s Game: Peter (Id), Valentine (Superego), and Ender (Ego).
  • Lord of the Rings: Gollum (Id), Sam (Superego), and Frodo (Ego), also:
  • Lord of the Rings: Gimli (Id), Legolas (Superego), and Agagorn (Ego), also:
  • Lord of the Rings: Dwarves (Id), Elves (Superego), and Humans (Ego).
  • Arthurian Legend: Sir Gawain (Id), Sir Lancelot (Superego), and King Arthur (Ego) (I would argue that Guinevere fits the Id role better, but I’m not an expert).
  • The Dark Knight: The Joker (Id), Harvey Dent (Superego), and Batman (Ego).
  • The Matrix: Neo (Id), Trinity (Superego), and Morpheus (Ego).
  • Shaun of the Dead: Ed (Id), Liz (Superego), and Shaun (Ego).
  • Fullmetal Alchemist: Edward (Id), Alphonse (Superego), and Winry (Ego).
  • The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya: Haruhi (Id), Yuki (Superego), and Kyon (Ego).
  • Final Fantasy VI: Kefka (Id), Leo (Superego), and Emperor Gestahl (Ego).
  • Final Fantasy VII: Barrett (Id), Cloud (Superego), and Tifa (Ego).
  • Myst: Achenar (Id), Sirrus (Superego), and Atrus (Ego).
  • Starcraft: Zerg (Id), Protoss (Superego), and Humans (Ego).
  • Homestar Runner: Strong Mad (Id), Strong Sad (Superego), and Strong Sad (Ego).
  • The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: Tuco (Id), Angel Eyes (Superego), and Blondie (Ego).
  • 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea: Ned (Id), Conseil (Superego), and Aronnax (Ego).
  • Twilight: Jacob (Id), Edward (Superego), and Bella (Ego).
  • Archie Comics: Veronica (Id), Betty (Superego), and Archie (Ego).

The Betty and Veronica one is particularly interesting because it’s also a love triangle.  In fact, most love triangles feature some kind of play on the Freudian Trio: the good girl vs. the bad girl, the nice guy vs. the jerk, the girl next door vs. forbidden love, prince charming vs. the loveable rogue.

Sometimes, the villains come from a dysfunctional or broken Freudian Trio, where one of the three died, was kicked out, or was never part of the combo in the first place.  When this happens, it’s called (aptly enough) a Evil Duo.  Examples include Pinkie and the Brain, Lex Luthor and the Joker, and Kefka and Gestahl (though that particular duo was very, very, VERY short lived).

Finally, it’s worth pointing out that the Freudian Trio is so common, it even occurs in real life.  Perhaps the best example of this would be World War II, where Churchill was the Id, Stalin was the Superego, and Roosevelt was the Ego.  With quotes like “never, never, never, never give up,” Churchill practically embodied the McCoy (his drinking penchant also helped), while Stalin, with his fanatic adherence to communism and his “million is a statistic” approach to the revolution, was as cold and calculating as you can get.  FDR was the one who held the alliance together, and it was only after his death that the Cold War really broke out.

Of course, it’s possible that we only see this trope everywhere because our brains are programmed to see it.  But if that’s true, it makes for an even stronger argument that the Freudian Trio plays on some powerful, universal archetypes.

მე ♥ ქუთაისი (I ♥ Kutaisi)

Medea Cafe & Bar, a popular expat hangout in downtown Kutaisi. It’s also something of a landmark because of the conspicuously English street sign.

That’s Georgian for “I ♥ Kutaisi.” Like the New York City ad campaign on which it’s based, it’s become a part of the local culture.  You can see it on billboards, street signs, stickers, t-shirts–unlike the US, where it’s uncool to wear a band’s t-shirt at their own concert, everyone was wearing their “I ♥ Kutaisi” shirts at Kutaisoba last week.

So since I’ve been living here in Kutaisi for almost three months, I thought I’d give you all a virtual tour of the city–or at least the downtown area, since Kutaisi is really more like a very big village with a city in the middle.  But that’s why I love it.

Tsitelikhidi, or Red Bridge Station.

Our tour starts at the main marshrutka terminal downtown, Tsitelikhidi, or Red Bridge Station.  The place is a wonderfully chaotic mess of taxis, buses, and marshrutkas, while their drivers pass the time by smoking cigarettes and yelling at each other.  Old women wander around the crowds selling khatchapuri and lavash, while people are constantly coming and going.  Interestingly enough, this is also where you can find one of the largest concentrations of apothekas (pharmacies) in the city.

I bought an earwax removal kit from this apotheka, along with a bulb syringe obviously meant for babies. The pharmacist thought that was hilarious.
For street performers in Kutaisi, the accordion is the instrument of choice.

The sidewalk leading away from the station leads into a long narrow corridor typical of most Georgian street markets, with stalls and vendors packing every available space.  Here you can find cookies, ice cream, and cold drinks, both soft and hard; candles, religious icons, and other “souvenirs,” as the vendors like to call them; cheap plastic goods from China, wrapped in dusty plastic; freshly killed meat hanging from butcher’s windows; and all sorts of other random things.  But as busy as this place seems, it’s nothing compared to the main marketplace.

I have no idea what’s all on this frieze, but it looks pretty cool.  Also, bangs are very much in fashion.
This is actually a pretty good place to buy a belt.

The corridor opens up at the end of the block, to a tunnel which leads underneath the main road (Rustaveli, named after the great medieval Georgian writer) to Mirzani restaurant on the far side.  At the mouth of the tunnel, tarps and blankets stretch haphazardly over vendors selling clothes, cheap shoes and cigarettes.  Further down the tunnel, you can find more clothes, belts, brassieres, more shoes, and all sorts of fabrics.

We continue past an old building with a giant frieze, presumably depicting scenes from the history of the city.  There’s a lot of history to choose from–Kutaisi was the capital of ancient Colchis, and a major regional center throughout the Middle Ages, when locally-born King David the Builder united all of Georgia, turning it into a “land between two seas.”

Alas, no hot peppers.
This is where you come to buy flour.
The candle-like stuff hanging from the top is churchkhela, strings of hazelnuts dipped in congealed grape extract. I assume the jars immediately beneath them contain wine.

Next, we take a left and promptly get lost in a giant bazaar.  Here, you can find all sorts of fruits and vegetables, beef and chicken, bread and cheese, wine and beer–basically, anything that you would usually get from a grocery store in the US.  Georgians have grocery stores too, but the bazaars are usually cheaper and fresher.  Plus, they’re a whole lot more fun.  I’ve heard that you can haggle with the vendors, though the prices are so low (1.5 GEL for a kilo of apples) that I’ve never felt a need.

Rustaveli Avenue.
Las Vegas casino. Gambling is big in Georgia.
The book market. If I could read Georgian, this is where I would spend most of my time.

We spend a little bit of time wandering around before going to the main city park.  Heading up towards Jatchviskhidi, you can find all sorts of pawn shops, casinos, and money exchanging places, while near the library (at least, that’s what I think it is) there’s a mini-bazaar with all sorts of books.  Of course, that’s one of my favorite places to check out!

Along Rustaveli Avenue, however, the city takes on a pleasant European feel, with attractive cobblestone streets, wide boulevards, and Napoleonic architecture.  Here, you’ll find the opera house, the mayor’s mansion, and the central school (of 44 public schools citywide).

The view from just outside Medea Cafe.
One of the many flower gardens in central park.
One thing Georgians (or at least, Kutaisians) know how to do right is their public parks.

Next we come to Bulvari, the main central park of Kutaisi.  On a hot, muggy day, this is the perfect place to relax, with shady palm and pine trees, attractive public fountains, and plenty of benches to go around.  Vendors sell balloons, candy, and ice cream, while at the center, old men with cheap plastic cars take children for a ride around the main circle.

The new fountain at the main square. Some TLGers think it looks kind of tacky, but I think it’s a pretty good attempt to capture some of Kutaisi’s ancient heritage. There’s certainly plenty to choose from.

The main city square is on the other side of the park, with the theater on the left, the banking district on the right, and a giant fountain in the center depicting replicas of ancient Colchian artifacts found in Imereti province.  It’s one of the many interesting ways the city has been trying to reinvent itself since the end of the Soviet Union.  The statue of David the Builder that once graced this square now stands in front of the train station, at the end of the boulevard that bears the same king’s name.

You can see the back of Mirzani’s across the river. It’s probably the best restaurant in town.
Tetrikhidi (White Bridge), with a wedding party posing for photos.
The Kutaisi gondola. I don’t know why, but Georgians seem to have a thing for gondolas.

Looping back around, we return to the Rioni river and the neighborhood immediately surrounding Tsitelikhidi.  There are actually three bridges here: Tsitelikhidi (Red Bridge), Rustaveliskhidi (Rustaveli Bridge), and Tetrikhidi (White Bridge), a pedestrian bridge next to another attractive garden.  From here, a gondola takes visitors over the river to an amusement park at the top of a hill.  On the weekends, wedding parties often stop here to take pictures, then speed around the city honking their horns and making noise.

Bagrati Cathedral in the spring.
Close up of Bagrati. The reconstruction is actually progressing fairly rapidly.

Heading north, we pass through the markets again and cross over Jatchviskhidi (Chain Bridge) to the right bank of the Rioni.  After passing another curbside station–this one for marshrutkas heading to the northern villages–we climb a 200 step staircase and find ourselves at the foot of Bagrati Cathedral.

Bagrati is a thousand year-old Georgian Orthodox church, the largest and most important in the city.  After the Turks razed it in the 18th century, it lay in ruins for hundreds of years.  But now, with Georgia’s newly-won independence and the economic boom fueled by the IMF and other foreign investors, the historic cathedral is under reconstruction.  I probably won’t be here when it’s finished, but I definitely want to come back and see it when it is.

The view looking southeast.
The view looking southwest. The mountains in the distance are the Lesser Caucasus, about 4000 meters above the elevation of the city.
View from the steps leading up to Bagrati. Kutaisi has a lot of churches.

Bagrati Cathedral sits on an imposing hill with a magnificent view of the whole city.  Here, you get a sense of just how big Kutaisi really is.  It’s not a tall city, or a particularly busy city, but compared to the rest of Georgia outside of Tbilisi, it’s pretty huge.

Unlike Tbilisi, however, the city has had very little exposure to the West.  People still stop to stare curiously at foreigners, and hardly anyone speaks English.  It’s much quieter than Tbilisi, too, with fewer cars, more parks, and lots of gardens and orchards, even in the more crowded districts.  People live closer to the land, and travel often to the outlying villages where they still have friends and family.

Perhaps the best way to put it is that Kutaisi still possesses that sense of rustic Caucasian innocence that Tbilisi has since lost.  You can hear it in the way people laugh and see it in the way they kiss and are kissed by their children.  For a city that was legendary long before the maps showed America as a separate continent, that’s no small thing.

მე ♥ ქუთაისი

 

Trope Tuesday: Lawful Evil

If the term “villain” applies to anyone, it applies to the Lawful Evil.  Whether the evil overlord, his trusted right-hand man, or one of his devoted minions, these characters are dedicated wholeheartedly to their cause, whether they believe it will lead to a better world or not.  Taking over the world is often a major obsession, because hey, someone’s got to do it.  A staple of the evil empire, these guys often turn their country into an industrialized wasteland, though they often have propaganda machines to take care of any bad press.  Bonus points if they can transform into a freakish monster in battle.

From the easydamus character alignment page:

A lawful evil villain methodically takes what he wants within the limits of his code of conduct without regard for whom it hurts. He cares about tradition, loyalty, and order but not about freedom, dignity, or life. He plays by the rules but without mercy or compassion. He is comfortable in a hierarchy and would like to rule, but is willing to serve. He condemns others not according to their actions but according to race, religion, homeland, or social rank. He is loath to break laws or promises.

While Lawful Evils believe in following rules and keeping their word, they’re not above emotional manipulation, negotiating unfavorable contracts, or following the law in letter only.  Even so, they tend to suffer from genre blindness and bureaucratic stupidity (as well as megalomania–but hey, that’s part of the job description).

According to tvtropes, Lawful Evils come in four types:

  1. The supreme ruler, dedicated to establishing and maintaining a civic order that is itself evil.  A good example of this would be Sauron from The Lord of the Rings.
  2. A zealot or übermensch whose moral code falls outside of established social norms.  Khan from The Wrath of Khan is a pretty good example of this, as is Tyler Durden from Fight Club (though your mileage may vary).
  3. The Dragon or other minion who may have their own goals, but answers to the big bad.  Darth Vader is probably the most well-known example.
  4. A complete monster who is dedicated to the destruction of free will and liberty.  The Mormon conception of Satan fits this perfectly.

The scary thing about this trope is that it actually exists in real life.  In fact, outside of our sheltered middle-class, liberal democratic existence (a relatively recent and unusual development in the eyes of history), this type of overlord tends to be the rule and not the exception.  You don’t have to look any further than North Korea, Burma, or Syria for examples of this–which is to say nothing of the Soviet Union, the Third Reich, or the British Empire.

My favorite example of this trope is probably Darth Vader, not just because of how badass he is, but because of his heel face turn at the end of Return of the Jedi.  Ignoring how bad episodes I, II, and III were, his character arc really is the thing that makes that story.  And while we’re on the subject of history, let’s not forget this epic showdown between Stalin and Hitler.  Seriously, click that link.

In my own work, the best example of a Lawful Evil would probably be Qasar from Bringing Stella Home / Sholpan.  He’s more of the affable type than a true evil overlord, though; that would be Tagatai, who doesn’t really come to power until Stars of Blood and Glory. A much more sinister example would be Emile from Heart of the Nebula, or the villain I have planned for Edenfall–I’d better finish those!  And of course, there’s Sheikh Sathi from Desert Stars, though he’s mostly a type 3 Lawful Evil under the thumb of his Neutral Evil wife.

Perhaps one of the reasons I haven’t done a truly despicable Lawful Evil yet is because I’ve been kind of sheltered here in the states.  It will be interesting to see how my writing changes after spending some time in Eastern Europe; Georgia, after all, is the homeland of Stalin.

Darth Vader helmet taken from this site.

Where were you on 9/11/01?

Tuesday Sept 11th, 2001
Day of the Terrorist Attacks on the WTC and Pentagon

Today has been an incredible day. In describing the events that happened today, one of the teachers said that “the world has changed significantly from what it used to be.” There’s no doubt that that’s true. It’s so strange, I’m still having trouble computing it; it seems almost like a dream; that tomorrow we’ll get up and nothing will be different.

On September 10th, 2001, I resolved to keep a daily journal for one full year (and actually followed through on it until June the next year). That journal turned into a detailed account of my personal reaction to the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the most historic, world-changing event to happen in my lifetime.

September 11th was the first day of school for my junior year in high school.

I first heard the news in 2nd period, which was AP US History with Mr. Gunn. I was excited to see his class, see what the year would be like, etc. Everyone was scrambling for a test. He came in a bit late, and was visibly shaken. He told us that the test was cancelled, and then broke the news to us.

I don’t think anyone computed it right then. I know I didn’t. I heard about it, and immediately my love of storms, breaking news, and perilous events kicked in. But I knew that what had happened was big – and not cool one bit.

I choked down the impulse to get excited, but I did want to know more – a lot more. I asked several questions about what had happened, but there wasn’t much info right then. I had no idea what the incredible magnitude of the event was; I still have trouble, it’s like something from a movie or something.

Needless to say, that was the weirdest first day of school I’ve ever had. Classes went on as scheduled, except for the last period of day, which was canceled for an impromptu school-wide assembly. Everything was upside down, with teachers and students trying simultaneously to launch another school year while doing everything they could to find out what the hell was happening on the news.

I didn’t get to a TV until the mid-afternoon, during my lunch break.

CNN was on, and they were showing footage of the Trade Center and the second plane ripping through it. They showed the buildings on fire and the scene around the buildings. It was incredible; eerie…it was really then that I started to comprehend the sheer magnitude of what had happened.

I watched footage of the Trade Center as the building collapsed – that was incredible. I watched the footage reels play over and over again. There was one of someone at the very foot of the building shooting the building as it burned, then caught it as it began to collapse, and then it started jiggling around as the guy and everyone around him scrambled as fast as they could to get out of there!

It was surreal. In the middle school just across the street, kids burst out laughing when they watched the second plane hit the other tower–then looked around in frightened disbelief as they realized that it was real. I remember looking at the photographs from the New York Times the next day and thinking I was reading a superhero comic, not the newspaper. It just didn’t compute.

I had a ton of questions on my mind that day, and they generally went in this order:

1) Was anyone I personally know hurt or killed in the attack?
2) Were any of the victims friends or family of people I know?
3) Is there going to be a war?

We’re going to remember this day for years and years, it’s incredible. The world has changed; I can feel it. It seems tonight like the stuff on the news is amazing and true, but it doesn’t seem real – not in the sense that I think any of us fully understand everything that’s gone on – everything about everyone who’s been affected by this, including ourselves.

For me, it feels exciting and horrifying at the same time, and I almost feel as if it’ll be gone tomorrow, or at least people will still be reporting on it and nothing will have changed from tonight’s events. Of course, that’s not true.

Interestingly enough, I had been watching the news on an almost daily basis for over a year, waiting for something like this to happen.  When the second Palestinian intifada began in 2000, I spent all my free time at school on the internet, checking on the latest developments in the Middle East.  When the nightly news stopped covering it, I became so disgusted I stopped watching TV news.

So I already knew who Osama Bin Laden was.  I knew all about the Taliban and their egregious human rights abuses in Afghanistan.  I heard about the USS Cole only hours after it was attacked, and I was disgusted that the US government wasn’t doing more to defend us from terrorism.

So when the 9/11 attacks happened, I felt simultaneously excited and guilty.  Finally, after months and months of slow news, something BIG is happening!  But people are dying, too–thousands of people.  Is it wrong to be excited?  But I’m sad too–does that make it all right?  How should I feel about this?

I’m not scared, I’m not terrified like the terrorists want, I’m not angry about all this – I’m just in shock, waiting to see how it all plays out. This is BIG!

Of course, the mental and emotional impact of the attacks were much larger than I understood at the time.  I didn’t feel a sense of peace in my life until sometime the next week, when I watched a special LDS devotional broadcast from the Mormon Tabernacle in Salt Lake City.  Even then, the impact of the attacks continued to transform me in ways that I didn’t fully understand.

Before the end of the school year, I wrote a short story that amalgamated all of the ways that the events of that year had changed my life.  It was my first creative writing project since elementary school that I’d actually finished, and I found it surprisingly cathartic. If you care to read it, you can download it here:

THE DREAM DIARY Creative Commons License

The writing is terrible, the plot is cheesy, and it gets a little preachy towards the end, but it’s more honest and genuine than anything else I can possibly say.

After the shock and horror and fear and sadness, the events of that day ultimately brought me closer to God and the people around me.  It also led to a lifelong fascination of Middle Eastern cultures alien to my own–and the desire to show that no matter our background or culture, we are all equally human.

That’s the best way to defeat evil–become a better person because of it.