The Cliff Test

Batman passes The Cliff Test

Before I begin let me clarify a few things. I will not be talking about a test based upon the dad from the Cosby Show (whose names was not Bill, nor [paradoxically] was his last name Cosby.) I will also not be talking about a test based upon a big red dog, (that would be a Clifford Test,) or the main antagonist of Back to the Future (that would be a Biff Test.) Instead, I am going to talk about one of the first lessons I was ever taught by television, back when I was still just a kid, and how it shaped my understanding of the world.

I was very fortunate to be raised by a pair of working parents, which means I was also raised (at least partially) by my third parent, TV. The moving images on my screen that kept me so entertained also taught me many valuable lessons. For instance, Bugs Bunny taught me my vocabulary (indubitably,) and how to avoid hunters by cross-dressing. Similarly, Reading Rainbow taught me that the USS Enterprise must have a really good library. Yet, most importantly, Saturday Morning Cartoons taught me what it meant to be a hero. While other boys were modeling their ideals of manhood on professional sports players, firemen, police, teachers, U.S. Presidents, mailmen, my vision of adulthood came from men who fired red lasers (and never once killed anyone with them,) mutated ninja creatures, and superheroes (oh so many superheroes.) It was a magical time of life, when you got up earlier than you ever did in college, stuffed yourself full of cereal, and spent a solid four or five hours ingesting as much animated antics as possible. For me those days were formative, and the cartoons that stuck out most in my mind were the ones that contained battles between the forces of good and evil, He-Man, G.I. Joe, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Transformers, Thundercats, and all those wonderfully non-morally-ambiguous shows where you immediately knew who was the good guy and who was the bad.

There was always one particularly defining moment found in almost every single cartoon that stuck out in my head. I came to nickname it, "The Cliff Test." Surely as my name is Surely, there would come a time when the hero was fighting the villain high atop a mountain, or floating platform, or suspended walkway, Batman battling the Joker, Duke battling Cobra Commander, Lion-O battling Mumm-Ra. Inevitably, the villain would lose his footing and fall, grabbing for the ledge at the last moment. Then the hero would step to the edge to find their fiendish mortal foe helpless dangling by a mere few fingers. It would be so easy to finish them off and end the fight, but it is in that moment that heroism became crystallized for me. If a hero was true he would pass The Cliff Test by reaching down his hand and grabbing hold of his foe and attempt to pull the villain to safety. Ultimately, the bad guy would show his true colors and reveal some sort of weapon from behind their back that they stupidly used to strike out at the person currently trying to help them get to solid ground, resulting in the hero jumping back and his enemy plummeting to their deserved fate. Yet, that is supercilious in this argument. The real test of valor is passed once the hero makes the decision to assist their nemesis, despite all the bad that person had committed, and even despite the fact that seconds before he would have killed that villain in combat given the chance. There is no conflict here, because killing the foe in battle (It was a cartoon so no oven ever died,) is honorable and done in self-defense, but letting him mercilessly fall to his death serves no one, least of all the hero.

Not everyone can be Batman, I guess.

So, when I learned this week that on top of everything (government shutdown, questionable drone tactics, and the fact the NSA is probably the only one reading this blog post,) that the U.S. has been spying on allied leaders (as if they were some British newspaper mogul,) my cynical adult brain went, "yeah I'm not surprised." However, that younger part of me, (the one that spent everyday of the first Gulf War playing with G.I. Joes, because the heroism of my country so inspired me,) died a little more inside. Does Superman use his powers to spy on the rest of the Justice League? Does Batman? (fine Batman might, but that's not the point.) I am not ready to admit that we have become the bad guys in the story, but I don't think we're the good guys either. Everyday I watch us succumb more and more to greed and mistrust as we cling almost desperately onto power and spite. It's a path that leading us to ruin and is disenfranchising so many young people, whose formative years (unlike mine) will be filled with an atmosphere of disbelief, anger, and mistrust of their government and no Saturday Morning Cartoons, (which is an outrage. They don't exist anymore, but I'm digressing...) I understand that in the real world we can't always apply technicolor 2D morality to our 3D world, but part of me still believes that a house built upon a rotten foundation will only lead to trouble down the road.

The Cliff Test was a defining moment not just for the hero in my cartoons, but for me as a child. It was proof of what it meant to be a "good guy." I know there are people out there who would rather be a Sith Lord as opposed to a Jedi Knight, but, personally, my accessory of choice was always the white hat. Perhaps it is nothing more than childhood naivety, but I had always believed that the United States of America was more hero than villain. After all, I was a child of the eighties. Everyone from Regan to Springsteen was telling me that we were the good guys. I wanted to believe that our government strove to be the best and most upstanding it could be, because that was the core message of those old cartoons. You have to try and be the best person you can, to do what is right regardless of personal effort or cost, and even if you make a mistake you never give up on doing what's right for everyone. That is what those cartoons promised me about myself and others.

You might think it is naive of me to approach the world with a lens I developed before I was even old enough to read or write. You would assume once I grew up and saw the true nature of the world that I would have become disillusioned with the lessons those cartoons taught me, but  instead I found myself holding onto them and striving to be the Saturday Morning hero even more. I am not a very religious person, but those early lessons became almost an ancient and scared text to me. Maybe heroes are what the world truly needs right now, real heroes. I'm not saying I am some example that everyone should follow, but I do believe that we have to live, we have to breathe, and we have to fully be the change we want to see in the world. We are all human, even our institutions, (apparently even our corporations,) and we will make mistakes, but we have to keep going. We have to try to be the best damn people we can be, not just for our sakes, but for everyone's. Maybe this world could use a little more idealized naivety, maybe we all just need to remember our childhoods and ask what our ten year old selves would think of the people we are.

Perhaps we can look at The Cliff Test in another way. By helping the villain, the hero is actually helping himself. It is a way to reaffirm his actions and reinforce the kind of world he or she is fighting for, a fair one, a just one, and a merciful one. So in fact, the hero is not only reaching down to save the villain, but they are reaching down to save themselves. Right now we all stand upon a similar cliff, (over a hot menacing volcano.) Everyday we are faced with others in need who are dangling by mere fingers, ready to fall. There are issues facing our country and our world that just seem so big, too heavy to lift, and it would be simple to let them fall away. It would be easy to stop trying and stop caring. It literally requires that we do nothing, or we can reach down and help. We can help for no other reason than because it is the right thing to do. The Cliff Test is not about the dangling villain. It is about the hero and his or her resolve to make the world a better place. We all stand on a cliff, everyday in big and small ways. So you have to ask yourself what will you do?

And once you know, keep that knowledge and never let it fade, because knowing is half the battle.

Comic Con 2013

Captain America is smaller in person than I thought.

My friends and I started out this year at New York Comic Con the same way we always do, not being able to decide on costumes, so we just ended up slumming it in nerdy t-shirts. (One day I will cosplay.) As for the rest, this year was not, what I would call, a typical year for NYCC. It was still good, just different. Allow me to explain.

It all started near the end of the summer when I discovered (much to my chagrin) that Comic Con tickets had been sold out on the website. For the two prior years I had attended the con, I never had any problem getting my three-day passes online. All of a sudden they were sold out within a month of going up for sale. And so it was that my sister and I found ourselves waiting on a seven-hour line that seemed to stretch the length of lower Manhattan as we waited to buy the tickets in person, from Midtown Comics. The day proved to be rainy, cold, and lacking dumplings (which I had planned to eat for dinner.) Worst of all, by the time we reached the front of the line the three-day passes were sold out. I had to shell out an additional twenty dollars per ticket to get the four-day passes, (not cheap when you take into account that I was buying them for all my friends.)

This was my first indication of how incredibly mobbed NYCC was going to be this year. Even though I have written extensively on the rise of nerd culture, I have to admit I wasn't quite prepared for this. At some point I went to sleep and NYCC became a mainstream pop culture event. Even the panels and exhibits went from small potatoes to large fries overnight. Whereas last year I happily attended improv nerd comedy shows, trivia events, and panels by minor authors and YouTube stars, this year those quaint little events were replaced with talks by heavy-hitters such as Neil deGrasse Tyson, John Barrowman, Shatner, and other names that packed the halls with nerds and normies alike. Every year the con has been growing, but this year it was like it reached critical mass. I am not saying this is a bad thing, just surprising, and annoying at times.

Bumblebee... Bumblebee...

Personally, I attended the John Barrowman panel, (standing room only,) and the David Duchovny/Gillian Anderson panel (as X-Files was one of my first sci-fi loves.) Mostly, we walked the show floor, saw the sites, and played the games. I got to demo the new South Park game: The Stick of Truth, (and let me tell you, its quality.) I even got to watch the StarCraft II East Coast championship live on the Intel stage. Unfortunately I missed out on Tyson (my personal science god,) and I got tricked into going to a panel on the 75th anniversary of Superman, which admittedly, infuriated me a lot less than I expected. I also got a free Superman cape out of the deal. Going Thursday night was a new experience. I missed the documentary screening on the history of DC Super-villains, but we did get to see the opening night comedy show by some funny comedians, led by Brian "OMG is That a Wookiee," Posehn. Janeane Garofalo was there too, but (my mother always taught me that if I never had anything nice to say I shouldn't say anything at all, so) I will remain silent on the subject.

Then came Friday night, the night I really get to throw myself into Geekdom, the night of Rock Comic Con. My favorite NYCC after-party, where I get to hear all the coolest and latest nerd rock. I was excited, but I was even more excited for my friends to bear witness to its awesomeness. Last year was a thriller and this year's promised to be even better with the return of my favorite Nerd Rock group, Kirby Krackle. So naturally, I took my friends by the hand and led them through the streets of New York, escaping the crowded Jacob Javits Center for the quieter roads of 29th Street. We had dinner at small Chinese place and headed to the show at Pioneer's Bar. Now the location of the show changes every year and requires some research online to find it, but I had managed to dig it up, (and by that I mean I got it off Facebook.)

So we arrived at Pioneer's that Friday night raring to party. We paid the cover charge, and got ourselves some beer. Then we headed back to the stage, and a cold realization came over all of us. There was already someone on stage and he was making jokes we couldn't quite understand. We also started to notice that everyone around us was not dressed in the usual nerdy paraphernalia. In fact, they were clapping at the man on the stage by wiggling their hands in the air.

"Are we at a deaf comedy performance?" asked my friend, Doug.

"That would explain why the greeter signed at us when we walked in," said my friend Chris.

I checked again and it appeared that the night of Rock Comic Con had moved from its usual Friday night to Saturday night. So there I was, standing in the middle of a crowd of deaf people, feeling like an idiot, but afraid to say anything because I was keenly aware that we were smack-dab in the middle of a room of lip-readers. We promptly finished our drinks and headed to the train station. Thankfully, we salvaged the night by picking up a few six packs of beer and playing Killer Bunnies (the board game) well into the night.

We did eventually attend the concert the next night, though, in comparison to previous years it felt somewhat lackluster, as if they slapped it together at the last moment. The performances were great, especially Kirby Krackle and H2Awesome (who always gives every show their all,) but there were no artists painting for charity, no nerd magicians, not even the usual burlesque show (which admittedly, I can do without.) Yet the whole night seemed mellow as compared to the charged atmosphere of past years. Perhaps that had as much to do with the night change as anything. Whereas on Fridays most people are raring to go, excited for the weekend ahead, but after Saturday at NYCC, most people were drained and exhausted from the day. Still the night was still fun and it wasn't a bad excuse to hang out in a bar with people I cared about.

All in all NYCC offered its usual fun, festivities, and scantily-clad women. Yet, I still keep coming back to the crowds. It was busier than I had ever seen it, and I suppose I am at least partially to blame for some of it. As this year I brought a few new friends as well as both my sisters and their significant others to the con. I more than doubled the people I brought with me. Also I heard from many people about all sorts of others that were going to NYCC, and I'm talking about people I would have never expected, people who are staunchly (and boringly) normal. However, I prefer to look at the positive of all this. Nerd Culture is soaring higher than it ever has, and that's a good thing. Personally, I think the whole world should attend at least one comic con in their lifetimes. After all, we could all use a little nerd in us, (and that's what she said.)

DC's Agents' of SIGH

It's a show about secret agents that spend most of the time
bickering, get no real work done, and then decided to go home
early, because screw it, it's not like their job is important.

There has been a lot going on this week. I wanted to talk about how promising Marvel/ABC/Disney's new show, Agents' of SHIELD  was looking, but then two inexcusable things happened. First, my government closed its doors for business, (like that good pizza place near Baltimore I crave sometimes in the middle of the night. I love that pizza, but horrible business plan.. much like Congress actually.) Second, for some fracking reason ABC, in all its wisdom, pulled Marvel's Agents' of SHIELD from OnDemand. It seems like both my real government and my fictional government decided to shut down on almost the exact same day, and at the root of both problems is money and politics.

 

The thing that baffles me the most about the sudden disappearance of the Joss Whedon's Agents' of SHIELD is that a week before, it was very much OnDemand. I work most Tuesdays and was able to catch the series premier, (which I thought showed a lot of potential for interesting and superhero-y storylines,) with the OnDemand feature of my TV. It was right there, at the top. Now this week, when I went to repeat the experience, it has disappeared. My only theory is that Disney/ABC/Evil Corporation is trying to pull some kind of stunt where, (much like drug dealers,) they give everyone a free taste, then try to get them to pay to watch, because, as my TV and Internet have told me multiple times over the past week, Marvel's Agents' of SHIELD is on Hulu for only $8.99 a month.

 

This is a dangerous game that Disney is playing, as most people will just turn to the Internet to get their fix, further reducing the power of TV. However, this move is also not unforeseen. Ever since the mouse-run megacorp took over Marvel I have been expecting this. They only bought the comic company because, all of a sudden, comics were "the thing" and they saw a chance to make a large sum of money very quickly. They don't care about the company or the loyal fans. They just see a cash-cow (in a superhero cape) that they can milk for all of its worth and then break down and sell off for meat and animal feed when they're done with it. Yet, the real victim here is, Joss Whedon. Just when it seemed that he had finally escaped the fickle iron fisted rule of the Fox Network to produce a show, (that has every single advantage going for it,) he is once again screwed by another evil entertainment company that is going to monkey around with its broadcasting.

 

Then again, maybe I'm making too much of this. Maybe SHIELD just lost its funding and had to shut its doors for a few weeks like so many other government programs, such as NASA (because science is witchcraft,) and the Federal Elections Committee (because who needs fair elections anymore.) This to me is an exceedingly frustrating situation, but why should I care if the USDA (the people who monitor my meat) are closed for business without pay. I mean its not like Congress, who shut the government down in the first place, will be getting paid when they're out of... Oh wait, they do get paid... Even during a government shutdown? Even during a government shut down they caused, because they're too stupid and pig-headed to do their own damn jobs? The answer to those rhetorical questions is, yes, by the way.

 

Closed, due to government shutdown. It's not like Dr. Doom
or HYDRA will choose to strike at any moment.

I understand this is some kind of asinine attempt at protest by Republicans because they are being sore losers over the ObamaCare issue, but I have news for them and the Democrats in Congress, (because no one there seems to understand this,) THAT IS HOW DEMOCRACY WORKS. They've made me resort to caps-shouting. I feel ashamed, but not as ashamed as they should feel. All of a sudden they don't want to do their jobs because they would rather act like children? Well that's tough, because if something happens at my job that I don't agree with, I still have to go in everyday and keep on doing it, like 98% of Americans. We don't get the luxury to throw a hissy fit and shutdown, but for some reason our government, (which we rely on for actual and tangible services, like food for those in need,) decided to do just that. Police, firemen, and even teachers don't have the right to strike from their job or walk out in protest, because they are considered critical employees, but I guess that just means that Congress isn't critical to anyone.

 

The only thing that really scares me about all of this is that on October 17th Congress needs to raise the debt ceiling or we are going to default on our international loans. That has never happened, but if our nitwits in power aren't back in session by then, it will. Its a simple vote that requires very little thought (something most politicians are very good at,) but without it there could be horrible consequences. If we fail to pay our debt interest this year then it only proves to the rest of the world that America can no longer handle its place of power and responsibility. We risk losing the American dollar as the trusted currency of the world, (something that is already beginning to happen.) Yet, more and more it feels like this country is being ruled not by the people, for the people, but by party and for the party. After all, the Democrats and Republican have played chicken before and when neither blinked we all went over the fiscal cliff.

 

So once again, both Marvel and (Washington) DC have put their own interests ahead of the people they claim to be serving. Perhaps, the worst part is that both seem to answer to no one. Disney with its "more money than God" is almost immune from any sort of caring about what their actual consumers might want, and thanks to re-districting and gerrymandering on the state levels, most Congressional seats now sit in super-districts, which means the politicians that are the most irresponsible and fanatical in their beliefs have no fear of their voters, because it is almost impossible to get unseated, unless they upset the party, (And that is a very dangerous position for America to be in.) It seems as if both have forgotten their roots, one as a small place of quiet dignity that always wanted to do its best to fairly represent the people of the United States and give them something to hope for in the struggles of daily life, and the other Congress, which was always at least somewhat evil and lazy, but never quite like this.

 

Maybe we should make a new show about super-powered agents that do nothing but punch elected officials for 44 minutes at a time. At the very least, it would probably get a higher approval rating than Congress.

 

Time and Space Sadness

Recently, I have found myself rewatching every single episode of Doctor Who starting with the shows reboot in the Christopher Eccleston days. My reasons for doing this are simple: 1) It is an awesome show, and 2)  There is a girl involved. Now this aforementioned girl has never seen a single episode, so together we began a long episodic odyssey into the modern life of everyone's favorite British alien. I am happy to report that the show is as good, (if not better,) than I remember. Yet, watching it in rapid sequence and with the assistance of fresh eyes, I think I have come to a new realization: the show is more saturated with tears than my pillow was after my high school prom. (I'm just kidding... I didn't go to prom) Could it be that Doctor Who is a show that is actually dominated by sadness, instead of happiness?

Now I always knew that Doctor Who had the ability to make a grown man cry. I mean you are made of stone if you don't shed a tear as Rose stands on that beach bidding her final farewells to the Doctor, but it goes deeper than that. Throughout all the seasons, (especially seasons 1, 2, and 4) I found myself enjoying the stories and adventures in between the season's start and finale, but ultimately they became just so much fodder leading up to the inevitable sadness to follow. It was as if each happy, loving episode was just there to remind me that I was on an uncontrollable path toward the eventual sadness that was to follow. The happy times were nothing but cruel mockery for the eventual and heart-wrenching end of the season. Thus, my entire experience this time around seemed to have been dominated by a looming shadow of what was to come.

My friend on the other hand went through our journey in a state of bliss, loving each episode for its story, humor, and warmth. Even when, (by the time we were rolling through the fourth season,) she had gotten wise to ebbs and flows that were leading us to the foregone conclusion of the season, it still did not weigh on her as it did on me. She remained happy in the moment, perhaps preferring not to think about the inevitable sadness to come. In a lot of ways, our roles began to mimic the Doctor and his Companion. I, with my burdensome knowledge of future events, coupled with the joy of watching something old (yet amazing) through the eyes of someone new, and her with her wide-eyed anticipation of the adventure and wonder that was to come with every new episode, only vaguely aware that one day the journey must end.  It is an experience that I am glad I got to share with someone I care about.

Good. Let the feels flow through you.

However, let me get back to my main question: Is Doctor Who ultimately a sad show? Perhaps, I can blame at least some of this on the order in which I watched the show. On my first "go through" I watched them on a weekly basis (during that brief moment in time they ran on Sci-Fi, until it became SyFy... Thanks NBC.) In pacing myself with each new episode I had time to revel in the feeling of adventure, joy, and love for humanity that radiates through most of the episodes of Doctor Who. I got to hold onto these emotions and let them digest slowly over an entire week. Obviously, the finales were sad, but they became footnotes in the true warmth I felt for the show. I came to equate it with Star Trek, because it gave me a hope for humanity and a comfort I could not fully describe. Yet now that I have watched them back to back, sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for the coming heartache, I spent very little time digesting the individual episodes and instead found my viewing experience dominated by the season finales, that unavoidable ending which must come with all things. In a way, I have stopped comparing it to the optimistic world of Star Trek because ultimately calling Doctor Who optimistic would be a disservice to the show. After all, aren't the episodes that made us shed our tears the ones we remember the most?

Yet, on the same token calling Doctor Who a pessimistic show is also a disservice. Ultimately, after my revisiting of the old episodes and reliving the good and the bad, the triumphs and the mistakes, the friendships and the losses, I came to one conclusion, Doctor Who is like life. It's what you make of it. Maybe the Doctor's adventures are nothing but a microcosm for our own lives. Sure, they are both chalk full of sadness, but what does Sally Sparrow say? Sad is happy for deep people, because without those feelings of loss how can we ever cherish the moments in between? After all, what is life if it never ended. Perhaps we wouldn't hold on so fiercely to the memories of the good times, or laugh as loud or as hard, or even love. Really, what you think of Doctor Who reflects more on you as a person than on the show, and I want to choose to believe in that despite all the bad and the heart ache it is the good times that defines us, inspires us, makes us get up in the morning, and keeps us going through our brief days in this universe. There may be something terrible and heart-wrenching waiting for us around the next bend or on the next planet, but that's why we we need to hold onto the good times so much tighter, and live our life without fear.

These are the Voyages...

Courtesy of NASA

I am happy to announce that humanity has finally done it! We have finally reached interstellar space... well sort of... As of September 12, 2013, The Voyager 1 spacecraft, (which I have written on before,) has passed beyond the determined line that marks the end of our solar system. Currently this little piece of 1977 technology is being bombarded by particles that were created in stars other than our own, and its still transmitting data back to Earth. It's still functioning! (It just goes to show that they don't make them like they used to back in 1977... George Lucas can attest to that.)

What boggles and saddens me, is that this isn't bigger news. Everyone is too wrapped up in the Emmy's, or how Obamacare will collapse Western society, or even wondering what next inanimate object Miley Cyrus is going to twerk up against, to care about this monumental moment for our species. We have sent a piece of technology, a man-made craft that has one thousand percent less memory than a standard smartphone, beyond the limits of our solar system. Right now Voyager is 18.7 billion kilometers (or 11.6 billion miles for the Americans of the world.) It is traveling at a rate of 38,120 mph. That means that at present it takes almost 17 hours for the light from the sun to reach Voyager 1, but why care about that because, "Look Justin 'King Joffrey' Beiber is holding something."

I can only hope that one day we will look back at this moment and realize its importance in retrospect. I know it is not as exciting as Armstrong on the moon, or when we sent the cast of Jersey Shore to Mars, ("What we haven't done that yet?") but sometimes the biggest history is created by the quiet moments. I can only hope that one day when my ancestors walk through the museum of the future they will stop and marvel at the Voyager spacecraft, recovered by humanity from its long journey, (as opposed to it returning to us on its own as an alien entity that has the hots for the dad from 7th Heaven,) and marvel at how much was accomplished with so little. Perhaps, then Voyager will finally hang in its place of honor both on a wall and in our hearts, (right next to that signed photo of Senator Kardashian.)
 

To learn more check out NASA's page on the Voyager Intersteller Space Mission.

Float

"Oxygen levels, seven percent," said the tinny emotionless voice.

Two days since the accident. Two days, since the death of the crew. Sometimes I can almost see a face, soft and warm with red lips like roses, and the greenest eyes of spring lawn. A man could lie in them for hours and forget the world. A man could almost feel the grass blades between bare toes, and the cool nighttime breeze across goose-pimpled skin, like when I was a kid, left to lay for hours gazing at the stars.

The stars, I could never get enough of them, sitting outside till I was dragged to bed. The irony has not escaped even my oxygen starved brain. I suppose the universe does have a sense of humor. Those stars will be the last thing I ever see. Still, they are beautiful.

The sky outside rotates slowly, an endless cycle of glittering diamonds. The explosion that kicked me clear must have sent me into a spin, slow enough to not be dizzying, but fast enough that I can trace the movements of constellations across my viewplate. I have become a world unto myself, small and alone, floating through the void and surrounded by billions of tiny reminders of light and possibility. Some are known to me and others still deeply unfamiliar. If only I had an eternity to unlock their secrets, but I am down to about four hours.

Hair as soft as silk and as dark as the endless void, it smelled of lunch meat, but that was only in the morning. The kids used to laugh as we played rocketship, while she made their lunch. I can almost see her face. It floats before me, obscured and distorted, like a figure trapped under the ice, kicking and screaming for air. It's gone. I'm alone.

The only thing real anymore is the groan of my stomach, louder than before. The only image I can hold is the tube of paste I ate for breakfast so many days ago. I think it was banana. It tasted like metal. They always tasted like metal. I'm thirsty, but not like "I just ran five-miles thirsty," just "I could use a drink" thirsty. A beer would be nice. The saline indicator on my helmet is below zero. The emergency supply ran out hours ago, or days ago. I cannot remember the difference anymore.

Saturn is rising across my field of vision. Its rings are back-lit by the sun and the powdery blue dust that surrounds the god-planet's rings are shining like a thin wire of razor, beautiful and bright. It gives the whole planet the illusion of a motion faster than any purported by science. The great orb is like a spinning top on a whirling axis, and in the distance a bright blue dot, home.

Home is not a place, it's a feeling, it's family. Whenever you think of us, you'll be home. The words come distant and half-remembered. My father spoke them on the day I left for college or was it the academy. He was dead now, and when I think of his face I see nothing. I feel only the cold in my fingertips. I never even made it home for the funeral, a six month mission in space made it an impossibility.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

Never say you're sorry for that which is beyond your control. I was always proud of you, son. This time the voice seemed stronger, more present. Was it in my head? Was it my imagination? Did the shortwave communication system just come to life? It's not possible. There is no one within a billion kilometers. I'm delusional.

"Oxygen levels, five percent."

The flames, the rush of air, the silence. I come awake with a start from the half remembered dream, or was it a half-dreamt memory. Saturn is in full view. Even at this distance it dwarfs everything. Distantly, I hope I get to see it one more time, before I finally let go.

Hold on, son. Hold on to life, because as long as you draw breath there is hope. I remember when he first said that me. I can still hear his voice echoing from below, through the winter trees. We were camping and I had slipped from a tree limb. I had climbed too high. The limbs were too weak to support me. I was trying to reach something, but the goal itself is beyond memory. Only the climb remains.

Hope is everything. Never lose it. This time the comm indicator sprang to life. The words weren't imagined. They were real, spoken over the shortwave.

"Dad?" my voice is raw and cracked. It hurts to speak, but it would be maddening to stay silent. "Dad, is that you? Where are you?" 

The only reply is my own breathing. I am beginning to slip. I know the isolation has taken its toll. Hypothermia is beginning to set in. The suit's internal life support is slowly shutting down, like a deer succumbing to the snow and frost, stumbling ignorantly towards its cold lonely end.

"Oxygen level, three percent."

I wake. "Dad." I don't know if I screamed it. It's hard to gauge how loud something truly is inside a helmet of plastic and metal. I struggle to get control of my flailing limbs. They no longer feel like part of my body. They no longer feel like flesh, just wood, nothing more than useless branches attached to a dying and forgotten tree.

I remember his eyes. They were bluer than the sky, bluer than the icicles that used to form on our garage.

I'm here, son. I have always been here with you. The LED indicators on my helmet are dead. There is no way of verifying the transmission source, but I know it is a transmission all the same. Saturn is gone now, replaced again with the endless ocean of stars.

"How is this possible?"

Moments fade, even memories die away, but love remains. Suddenly, there is light and color and I can see his face. A distant memory, I must have been very young. He still has his hair and that stupid mustache, but the same toothy grin.

"You're not here. You're dead. Gone." I close my eyes and the light fades. Only the stars remain, eternal and fixed.

Everything must end. Even the stars are not forever. Their light is older than we can imagine. Most are dead even as they shine down on us. He was older now. His face shaded beneath the nighttime sky, only half facing me. His eyes are transfixed on something above us.

"Dead." I let the word hang there. Maybe for the first time I truly begin to question the meaning of the word. Death, the concept seems almost beyond the scope of imagining, if not understanding. How can just four letters hold so much meaning and so much abstraction?

"Oxygen level, two percent," says the computer as if in rebuttal to my musings, but even its voice of certainty is beginning to grow slow with the frost. I never considered what might happen to that voice. It will die with me, without ever having been alive. For some reason the thought saddens me. Man and machine will meet their end together.

But just because something ends, doesn't mean it goes away. Look at the stars. Even after they have disappeared from the universe their light continues to shine. They continue to inspire and drive us. They are still beautiful. So why does death need to be any different? I could almost feel his hand on my shoulder as we stood before the casket of my mother. His face was blurry again, but only because I watched him through tears.

"You're not here. There is no life after death. No heaven or hell." Such fantasies were sweet lies told to children to give comfort in times of grief. I know that. I'm a scientist and I know what happens to a person after death. their neural pathways shut down, their body stops pumping blood. Their cells starve for oxygen. They die, nothing less and nothing more. There is no light. Their isn't even a tunnel.

My son, the scientist. You know so much. What do you know? Nothing. Quantum mechanics, string theory, dark energy? His face is angry this time, distorted somewhere between rage and pity. Fancy words to mean that for as much as you think you know, you still know nothing. Maybe God isn't in the sky. Maybe he's in us, tangled in the places between quarks, or unseen in the fifth, or sixth, or even thirteenth dimension? What if he is speaking to us now through the vibrations of a quantum string or calling to us through cosmic radiation?

"There is no God. We live. We die." My mouth moves mechanically, rehashing the old argument. Yet, now the words just feel cold in my mouth, as if they too have been frozen by the void around me.

What good is your science if it only dashes hope? Hope is everything.

"We're dead particles, brought to life for a brief second through a freak accident of nature. Dust to dust and ash to ash."

Stardust and cosmic ash, perhaps. Those particles were forged in stars, created at the beginning of time itself. We are the universe made manifest, trying to figure itself out. There is a spark of the cosmos in us and that is no accident. We are part of something greater. How can that mean nothing?

"I miss you, Dad."

"Oxygen level, one percent." The hum of the air filters quiets. I had grown so accustomed to them I didn't even realize they were still on. Now there is truly no sound. All the suit's systems are dead, and I'm not far behind. My eyes feel heavy. I close them to rest, if only for a moment

Death is nothing to fear. Take it from a dead man.

"I want to believe you. I wish you were here."

I am always with you. If space and time are one, then do any of us truly ever exist, ever truly stop existing? Maybe we never really go away. Maybe we are always here, like faint echoes bouncing around the great vastness.

"Even after you're dead you're still lecturing me." I try to put the joke to my voice, but it comes out flat especially in the lonely dome of my helmet.

Only trying to show you the way. Like a light from a long-gone star.

What if the voice was right? Time is an illusion tethered by gravity, and if there is one thing I am lacking, it's gravity. Then why am I so short on time too? I open my eyes. Saturn has returned and I can almost feel it smiling down on me, like an eternal deity. Then, I remember my mythology. My father would have laughed. Saturn is the god of time.

I wait, but the voice says no more. Real or imagined, it's gone. The only sound is my shallow breathing. It's getting harder to draw breath. Each slow gasp seems more unsatisfactory than the last, almost painful, but those are distant sensations. My body seems suddenly unimportant, because all I see, is my god.

10 Surprising Celebrity Nerds

In our new Golden Age of Geek, it is probably not too hard to rattle off ten well known and famous nerds, but that is not what this list is about. For the list below I have compiled ten names of mainstream (normie) culture celebrities that you might be surprised have nerd tendencies or are even full blown geeks in their own right. This means you will not find the names of nerd celebrities, such as Felicia Day or Whil Wheton, nor obvious celebrity nerds such as Nathan Fillion and Steven Colbert. I have also disqualified those who are actively engaged in creating and fostering nerd culture whether though their acting or producing skills, such as Kevin Smith, Joss Whedon, and Seth Green.

This list was harder to compile than I thought as the Internet seems to think that if Oprah Winfrey talks about "Googling" something, or if John Mayer buys an iPhone that automatically makes them a nerd. Or that anyone who picks up a Wii remote is a gamer. Instead I have tried to limit the list to celebrities that have or are currently pursuing true nerd extra-curricular activities.

10. Aisha Tyler

I have talked about Tyler before in the context of her nerdiness, but I think her name bears repeating in this list. Actress, comedian, and author, she is as beautiful as she is talented. Most geeks may know her best for her voice work on Archer as Lana Kane. What you may or may not know is that Tyler is a huge gamer, and a classic gamer as well. She was getting high scores on Atari before half the people playing Call of Duty on the Playstation Network were even a twinkle in their parent's eye. Rest assured though, she is still as much of gamer now as back then, kicking ass in games such as Far Cry and Gears of War. She has even presented at the 2012 E3 conference, and then blasted the trolls who thought she wasn't enough of a gamer. She has also written a few articles on the state of nerdhood.

9. Ke$ha

When you think of the musical artist known as Kesha you probably draw the image of a trashy 20-something who does nothing but sing about partying before going to the club to get blitzed harder than Lindsey Lohan at a German disco. The truth however is surprising. Kesha Rose Sebert is in fact not much of a partier, but is in fact a nerd in the purest academic sense. Despite appearances (which is her carefully crafted public persona,) Kesha enjoys studying Cold War history, math, and physics. She scored a 1500 on her SAT's (back when that was out of 1600 total,) and one of her favorite past times is attending history lectures. It's also worth noting that unlike several of her peer artists Kesha writes her own songs and plays piano and guitar. She is also an ordained minister and has been known to perform homosexual marriages, which is actually pretty badass.

8. Nicholas Cage

Say what you will about the manic Cage and the many (like 2) personas he shows when acting in movies, but Cage is a nerd through and through. Since childhood the A-list celebrity has been a comic fan for a long time, with Superman his apparent favorite. How do we know this? Well he named his son after Superman. No he didn't chose the name Clark or even Kent (as those would be way too obvious and normal,) instead he named his son, Kal-El... which for the uninitiated is Supe's Kryptonian name. It has also been well know that Cage very much wanted to play a superhero in a Hollywood movie, getting his chance to do so with the mediocre, "why is he yelling?" Ghost Rider franchise. Say what you will about Cage's acting ability, but he is a geek.

 

7. Mila Kunis

Kunis who started her career on That 70's Show "opposite the guy who ruined Venom," and the only role that Ashton Kutcher should have ever been allowed to play, continued onto starring in movies like Forgetting Sarah Marshall and Black Swan. She is best known to nerds as the voice of Meg Griffin on Family Guy and has lent her voice to several episodes of Seth Green's Robot Chicken. However, what you may not know is that Kunis was once addicted to World of Warcraft. Though her character name was never known, we do know that she played as an Alliance Mage, was in at least two guilds, and frequently fought as part of raid-groups. She has also hinted that she has been keeping track of the new expansions, perhaps while fighting that old addiction. She had to quit cold turkey, as the game was beginning to interfere with her life, and anyone who has lost years to WoW can sympathize. I know I can.

6. Daniel Craig

Yes, that Daniel Craig, who is best known to the world as the newest and 007'est James Bond to hit the big screen. It turns out Britain's newest man of mystery is also a big gamer, having been quoted as saying, "I play games. Hands up. I’m quite into ones that have a big fat story line." He also revealed that Halo is among one of his favorite. In interviews he has said to that the best way for him to unwind is turn off his phone and spend a few hours gaming his cares away. Unfortunately, he has also revealed that his girlfriend disapproves of his gaming habits, which only goes to show, even James Bond has to sometimes hide the Xbox when the woman comes over.

5. Curt Schilling

Former Major League Baseball pitcher, Curt Schilling helped lead the Philadelphia Phillies, the Arizona Diamondbacks, and the Boston Red Sox to the world series. His record would be impressive by an standards of your typical sports jock, but the shocking part is that Schilling is not your typical jock. The record setting pitcher is in fact nerd, to the core. While on the road it was said that he always had with him his board wargame, Advanced Squad Leader, published by Avalon Hill. He even financed his own ASL competition in Houston, Texas and joined up with a small gaming company, Multi-Man Publishing, in order to maintain the game and other Avalon Hill titles that were being neglected after AH was sold to Hasbro. Beyond that Schilling has played EverQuest and EverQuest II, World of Warcraft, and after retiring he started his own video game company, Studio 38. In 2012, the company put out the game, Kingdoms of Amalur: Reckoning. He is currently working on an untitled MMORPG with fantasy author R.A. Salvatore, and comic creator Todd McFarlane. How is that for some nerd cred.

4. Rosario Dawson

Rosario Dawson is talented, beautiful, and has even gotten the privilege of touching the lips of god (Will Smith.) The actress has had numerous rolls both supporting and starring and has even been gracious enough to lend her voice to shows like Robot Chicken and video games like Syndicate. Nerds will know her best for her work on Clerks II and her upcoming role in the new Sin City movie. However what you may not know is that Dawson is a huge fan of comics and loves attending comic conventions. I am not talking about how all stars attend comic conventions, by being selected to be on a panel and getting the VIP treatment. I mean that Dawson herself has admitted to putting on a mask and just walking the floor of Comic Con like the rest of us. She has also created her own comic book series, The Occult Crime Taskforce.

3. Vin Diesel

When you think of Vin Diesel what image comes to mind? A muscular thug who probably likes nothing more than driving fast cars and beating up other people in between giving serious and threatening glares. The truth couldn't be farther from that. Vin Diesel does enjoy causing some hurt, but his weapon of choice usually tends to be a D20 instead of a fist or a gun. During the filming of XXX the tattoo on Diesel's stomach says "Melkor," which is actually the name of his half-drow Dungeons and Dragons character. Diesel grew up a geek, playing D&D for over twenty years. He even wrote the forward to the book 30 Years of Adventure: A Celebration of Dungeons & Dragons. In 2002, he started his own video game company, Tigon Studios, and has since become a champion of the Riddick series. He has been a driving force behind the third film, set to come out this weekend, even going so far as to sacrifice his pay and leverage his house to see the movie completed, and why not? Who wouldn't risk it all just to get to play a badass light-blind merc who (now that I think about it,) may in fact be half-drow.

2. Megan Fox

I have to admit that among the celebrities that are easy targets to bash, even I have taken a few shots at Megan Fox. Outwardly she seems nothing more than a (very) pretty face, a stunning body, and a rather vapid personality, basically your typical Hollywood starlet. However, she is a nerd, or at least has nerdish tendencies. Among all on the list, this was probably the most shocking to me. Fox is a lover of comics and is known to nerds for her roles in the Transformers franchise and playing opposite to Josh Brolin in Jonah Hex. What is really surprising is her love of Lord of the Rings. according to Fox herself, she is an avid fan of Tolkein and his writings. She even admitted to being a frequenter of Lord of the Ring forums on the Internet. Part of me finds this hard to believe, but if she is faking it she has done her research on terminology. Maybe we all might have to rethink our image of Fox.

1. Robin Williams

Maybe this shouldn't be as surprising as it is, I mean after all the man has played everything from an alien to Peter Pan, but the fact that Robin Williams is a nerd is almost shocking. Williams of course is known for a litany of roles too numerous to list and for his off-the-cuff and near manic comedy style where he can launch from subject to subject like a hyped up 8-year old on a sugar rush. However, Williams has admitted that he has been a hardcore gamer for 30 years, and I am not kidding. The man assembles his own computers complete with state of the art graphics cards (He apparently prefers ATI cards,) for playing games like Warcraft III on the computer and the original Unreal Tournament. On the console side he has also admitted to playing Call of Duty, but his original love is Zelda. He loves the Nintendo franchise so much that he named his daughter Zelda after the titular princess of the game. That's love and nerdiness of the best kind.

So in conclusion, if you are ever playing Halo and happen to run across a character with charming 007-like accent, or if that guy on your COD team won't shut-up and keeps manically jumping from topic to topic, or if that girl in your WoW guild sounds suspiciously like Meg Griffin, or if that girl in the Catwoman mask standing next to you in the Comic Con line, or that person quoting the Similarion to defend her point on the LOTR forum you post on, all seem somehow familiar, maybe you had better take a closer look. The nerd next to you may be more surprising than you think.