West of House

You are standing in an open field west of a white house, with a boarded front door.

There is a small mailbox here.

>

See, yeah. Even now, in these days of multi-pass shaders and 5,000-polygon character models, there’s something there.

Admit it. You want to open the mailbox. I know, so do I.

> open mailbox

Opening the mailbox reveals a leaflet.

>

Yeah, and this is where the slippery slope begins.

Admittedly, a large part of the appeal of the text adventure back in the day was the simple fact that it was immersive and interactive. That portion of the appeal has now been claimed by the Half Life 2s of the world. Resoundingly. I mean, look at it.

So complete was the takeover that many fans of interactive entertanment (“gamers”, for those of you keeping score at home) convinced themselves that there was, in fact, nothing left behind. That the world of text adventures was nothing more than a cored out husk, dry and brittle. A kind of technological mummy: interesting when observed in a museum, but only to provide historical edjumacation.

To these folk, I say, bah.

The best argument I’ve found to demonstrate why I still am interested in this ancient word-based form of entertainment is Andrew Plotkin’s Spider and Web. There is, quite simply, no better way to convey this kind of experience than through interactive text.

[ A technical aside: in order to actually play the .z5 file that you'll find at the end of that link, you'll need Frotz for Windows. The way this works is you download the game file, and then run it with a "player", which is what Frotz is. In Frotz, do File->Open on the .z5 file. I know, I know. They're working on it. ]

(I am making the unreasonable assumption that if you aren’t using Windows, you are likely capable of figuring out what steps to take to find a player for your system. Believe me when I say that there are players for Every Goddamn Platform Known To Mankind.)

There are others out there of that quality as well. And, the thing that makes me go “hmmm,” is that these people are all unpaid fans. Imagine what would happen if there were actual companies out there who were making these kinds of games full time.

There’s hundreds of dollars to be made out there. Maybe even thousands.

That, however, is the really interesting thing. Games as a whole are large enough now that even a 2% slice of a niche genre is enough to live on. I like it.

:[ More Sith spoilers!! Do Not Read!! ]:

So, one of my esteemed colleagues dumped this piece of genuine article on us during our post-Sith revival email thread (which, if you can believe it, is still on-going):

Did the Emperor create Anakin? Remember that story the Emperor told
Anakin about a powerful dark Jedi that was able to create life using
Midiclorians? Was this a story about himself?

A second Esteemed Colleauge quickly followed with the following:

The Emperor’s *master* created Anakin as a replacement for Palpatine as
his apprentice, without Palpatine’s knowledge (otherwise, Palapatine
would’ve kept Anakin hidden from the Jedi). Palpatine killed his master
before he ever learned his secrets.

To which, I have to say, uh…

…

Look, I thought this was supposed to be the end of this shit. All the questions were supposed to be answered. I…

That’s a really interesting idea. The notion that Darth Plagueous (it took us some time to recall his name; we ain’t getting any younger, sweetums) created Anakin sends a shudder of thrilling horror down my spine.

It seems like the simplest way to tie up that one crazy miracle birth loose end, doesn’t it? It almost seems fucking possible, don’t it?

—

And another thing.

I thought the same thing about Leia in ROTJ talking about remembering a
little bit about her mother and her “dying young”. I figure that could
have been her foster mom she remembered.

To wit:

I thought it was pretty clear in RotJ that Leia was remembering her birth
mother, but maybe not?

I have excellent friends. I let them know that I appreciate them by calling them “geeks” and “nerds” to their face.

This goes back to the previous post: we (the Followers Of Lucas) have had a bit of a communication issue with Mr. George Star Wars Lucas.

We always thought Leia was remembering her birth mother, yes. The way she describes her memories of her mother implies at least a few years with Leia before she dies.

This leads to the obvious conclusion (that most of us were carrying around; I know, I used to ask people about this shit) that the children (and, potentially, Padme herself) were in hiding from the Dark Lord for quite a while before she kicked it. (Also, the very interesting idea that Padme would be with Leia for several years, but not Luke, and what might she have told her daughter that she didn’t tell her son…?)

That’s how I always thought it would go, but instead, she lost the will to live and died in childbirth.

I suppose Leia could be reporting her memory of that one scene, although that seems a little far fetched, ya? I vote adopted mother.

My analysis of this whole (quote-y finger motion) “Star Wars” thing is finally beginning to gel.

(For those of you who don’t know me… or for those of you who do know me but just shake your head and wonder why, God, why, here’s a glimpse into how it works: when I’m thinking about a thing, I actually do very little conscious thinking. I more ‘percolate’. Often while driving. And then, some time later, often days, (and for reason that mystify me) or exactly one week later, my analysis pops out, fully formed. Fuck if I know why.)

[ Spoiler alert: do not read if you haven't seen Revenge of the Sith. Also, don't read if you don't want some of it explained to you in ways that will test your tolerance of geekitude. ]

Here’s what I’ve been thinking on: after seeing Revenge of the Sith, my feelings for the series have done a complete double-back-flip.

I was utterly off of the Lucas bandwagon, had been completely enraged by how utterly useless Episodes I & II were… but I have quite suddenly, somehow, emerged into a strange new, hiterto unheard of land of Star Wars appreciation, that I hadn’t even come close to anticipating.

It seems George & I may have had a great big old fashioned misunderstanding, and I’m only now starting to grok it. I think I may not be alone in this.

Let’s turn the wayback machine to the late 1970s.

Back in the day, Lucas made us wee ones a titanic, intergalactic space opera, filled with the most fantastical creatures we’d ever seen, and some of the most startling reveals we’d ever experienced. When Luke’s unlikely lineage was revealed to us, the world turned on its axis, and we all gaped in awe at Lucas’ ability to storytell. Oh my god, we thought, please do that again.

Part of the the problem, I think, is that that moment was what set the quality bar for us. And, it was never repeated. I mean, not even close. The highpoint of the whole series is Luke dangling, un-limbed, from a weathervane thingy in the middle of Bespin, and Vader telling him how it is. This is now a certainty; there is no room for further debate.

Fast forward: here we sit, and what rankles, what has been so goddamn frustrating, is that the whole rest of the series is… just a story. We know who the characters are, and we watch them go through a series of interesting and world-changing events. But there are no surprises, really. At least, nothing that actually touches the characters in a way we didn’t already anticipate.

So that’s point #1. Let’s call it “It’s Just A Fucking Story! What The Fuck!”.

Next thing. Way back in the day, before there was an Ep I, II, or III, we had only distant tales of the Clone Wars, mostly from the mouths of the people who were there (the Obi-Wans and Yodas of the world). We’d never seen the goddamn thing, though. We had no real idea of what to expect.

We did, however, have this one line, spoken by a crotchety old white-hair, burned into our memories from watching the goddamn thing so many times: “A young Jedi named Darth Vader… who was a pupil of mine until he turned to evil… helped the Empire hunt down and destroy the Jedi knights. He betrayed and murdered your father.”

This, I think, is part of the problem. The notion that Vader “hunted down” Jedi seemed to imply, at least to we of the schoolyard high council, that this was a protracted thing. We imagined the Dark Lord seeking one Jedi after another, one betrayal after another, kind of like Ridley Scott’s Alien, only on a galactic scale. The Jedi never knew where he would strike from next, and he wipes them out. But slowly, see. One by one. At least, that’s what we imagined.

In truth, there was very little fact to develop notions from. But, given that the rest of the story was so goddamn epic and shit, we figured that certainly the truest version of the facts must be the biggest version.

In fact what we got was a very very rapid fall of the Jedi. Scant hours after Anakin made his “choice”, the Jedi were done. Finished. Over. Kaput. This was, perhaps, why George didn’t tell this part of the story earlier. It would have left him with very little to do afterwards.

We also got a long, quiet, political transition of the Republic into the Empire. This makes some sense, and is in many ways believeable. It is not, however, quite the way we imagined it on the soccer field with our fingers pointed at each other going “pchew! pchew!”.

So that’s point #2. Let’s call it, “It All Happened So Fast!”.

Third thing. The first series started with Leia, Vader, and then 3PO and R2, and then whoops! Now it’s Luke, and who’s that Obi Wan guy, and wait, Han Solo, and Tarkin and… it just kept on going. You couldn’t swing a cat without hitting a hero or a villain of note.

This one, though… well, there’s Obi Wan and Qui-Gon, and there’s Anakin, and… Padme… Darth Maul… whoops, Qui-Gon and Maul are dead, and by the third one it’s pretty much just Anakin and Obi-Wan and the Emperor. The whole plot had boiled down to Anakin and his fall. As… we knew it would, but…

What I am struck by now, now that it’s all settling in, is how very personal this story has become. That, I think, is the most surprising thing. It wasn’t gigantic world destroying space stations, or prophecy, or armies that ultimately decided the fate of the Jedi. It was anger. Simple, juvenile, unjustified anger. Had someone , anyone, been able to get to Anakin and talk through his youthful frustrations and rage and… well, for lack of a better word, his issues, the Jedi, and really the whole Republic, may well have been saved.

But, that didn’t happen, and, striking blindly against imagined foes, he destroyed the entire Republic. Let’s call that point #3, and title it “It’s All About You, Anakin”.

Which brings us to the fourth (and final, thank goodness) point.

If we left it there, we’d have an angry young man, a series of strong mentors, and a corrupt politcal machine on the brink of transition.

That, however, is not enough to bring about the age of the Galactic Empire and give us 6 movies worth of lightsaber duels. No.

So, the last point. These creatures, these Jedi, they are giants. They are hugely, enormously powerful beings. This was always understood (I mean, duh), but it has been brought into sharp focus by how goddamn fallible they are in the recent installments.

What I mean by that is that when a human makes a mistake, feelings get hurt, and the bus is 5 minutes late. When a giant makes a mistake, Republics fall, Empires rise, and ancient orders of knightly wisdom are nearly wiped out. Same mistake, though. Blind arrogance. It’s just that a blindly arrogant Chosen One leaves a bit of a wider swath than others would. Things might have been quite a bit different if Anakin hadn’t been quite so hot-headed. And, it’s really as simple as that.

So, this, then is the fourth, and summary, point, and is in fact my summation of the whole series. Let’s call it, “Star Wars: This Time It’s Personal”.

Thanks again, George. And, good work. Nicely done. Bravo.

Spoiler Alert. Do not read if you haven’t seen Revenge of the Sith.

…

Also, geek alert. We are going to tread into depths that most rational people do not go, and few would like to admit actually exist. Please, if you are faint of heart, or do not take well to passionate elaborations over fictional characters, stop reading right now.

…

So… I have this theory that Luke Skywalker actually becomes a Dark Jedi after Return of the Jedi, and that Leia is the actual hero(ine) of the tale.

[ASIDE: I believe there is a book, one of the paperback follow-ups to the series that approaches some of these ideas. To that, I say "fie". I'm not talking about after-market fiction unpenned by Mr. Lucas. I'm talking about the films.]

In this theory, I propose that the evidence we have supports the view that the Emperor manages to point Luke down the dark path before his own death, and thus insures the survival of the Sith.

The core piece of evidence for this theory is the observation that the Emperor, near the end of Return of the Jedi, when he had Luke at his mercy, acted like a stupid asshole. Instead of executing the man who the Emperor himself had forseen could destroy him, he lets him run around his command room, and jeers at him. In fact, three times he interrupts Luke right before he unleashes his hate – interrupts him by telling him to unleash his hate.

I take this at face value. The Emperor is not, as we have seen, stupid. Nor is he necessarily an asshole. So what’s up? I believe he was trying to get Luke to go over to the Dark Side – (and this is the key bit) – without realizing it.

Why? Here’s my concpet: he’s forseen his own death. He wants the Sith to endure. And, as Yoda said, once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. He believes he can dupe Luke into becoming a Sith trojan horse, unaware of his own eventual doom.

I can elaborate on this theory at length. In fact, I have. Often. To my friends. In public. And now, it seems, my behavior has come back to roost. Read this saucy joinder from a “friend”:

So, [yours truly], after seeing Ep 3, do you *still* think Luke is a Dark Jedi? The obvious contrast is Anakin’s fight against Dooku, vs Luke’s fight against Vader, where Luke spares Vader’s life. Even the Emperor had to admit that Luke was a Jedi and could not be turned to the dark side…

I was… hoping this wouldn’t come up. [chagrin] A fools hope, I know.

Well, it certainly has become more difficult to make the case. For a variety of reasons. To me, the most important reason is that the whole tale is now squarely framed as the story of the destruction of the Sith from the inside out. As a single arc with this intention, it is a very satisfying tale, and from this vantage point I hesitate to draw any conclusions about what happens outside of that arc, as it seems largely irrelevant now.

One of the oddest things about the affect of the new series is that this whole arc really makes Luke’s participation in the struggle almost… secondary. The story is Vader’s story far more than anyone else’s now, which is… perhaps not what I was expecting. Even though it’s precisely what I thought would happen. Funny how things look different when you’ve actually arrived than they do when you’re just looking at the map.

I…

As I’m sitting here writing this, I’m thinking about Empire, and Luke’s battle with Vader in Bespin. I…

I’m really going to have to go watch those again, I think, before I can say for sure. My instinct right now is that no, it doesn’t seem like Luke’s fate is as tightly bound as a result of his actions as Yoda makes it seem. Part of it, I think, is that seeing Yoda be so goddamn fallible in the first three movies (I mean, hello, Palpatine? Like, is a Sith? Anyone notice?) puts much less weight on the factual nature of his statements in Empire, which is, of course, the foundation of most of my argument.

I’m…

I really need to watch the films again. Luke sure does fuck things up badly in Jedi, and that’s something I’ve had a hard time resolving. That, and how poorly the Emperor handles the whole thing. Although, seeing how he accomplished his position, I’m less likely to give him credit for being a master manipulator. He’s actually pretty poor at it, throughout.

I’m going to let it settle in, and maybe I’ll have a better answer. [/chagrin]

The lights dimmed at 12:05pm this afternoon. There were previews, there was a new Fandango ad, and then…

…20th Century Fox…

…Lucasfilm Ltd…

…A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

What followed was twenty minutes straight of spectacle, seen through the delicious lens of the Jedi character. It was…

Let me say this: the most remarkable thing about that film, the thing that separates it from Lucas’s last two horrific offerings, is that it is its own film. It does not waste time attempting to convince you that this is a Star Wars film, and thus worthy of your respect. It does not kneel and grovel at your feet, begging you to approve of it’s merits. It does not, as the other two films may have, leave many (this one included) angered that such damage could be done to such a beautiful thing.

Instead, it sets about telling you this story about how this boy, this poor, defeated, stupid boy, brought about the downfall of the Jedi, and became the world’s greatest villain. And that’s really all it seems to be trying to do.

It’s such a relief. I can barely express it, so huge is the sense of a great evil avoided. You’d have to have been with me in the car, driving back after the show, and heard my (admittedly embarassing) exclamations of joy and satisfaction. He didn’t fuck it up.

At least, he didn’t fuck it up very much.

Must admit, there were a few stingers in there. Damn it, George, if you ever try to write a love scene again, we’re going to raise placards and granola-eating groups of resisters to try and stop you in the Senate. There ought to be a law against tripe that foul.

Hooo. Yeah, that was bad.

But, blessedly brief, when compared to the other films. In fact, Attach of the Clones so completely scarred me that these little pricks of painful melodrama seemed light and playful, almost like George reminding you of how bad it could have been. But, just when you begin to black out from the pain, we’re back in space, and blowing things up with abandon, and watching the Emperor do his thing, and it’s all okay.

There were, in fact, several moments of utter brilliance in the film. And, so completely unmarred were they by any horrible madness that they shone, shone in their full glory.

I believed it. I would maybe had preferred he gone left instead of right here and there, but by golly, I believed it. I didn’t think I would, and had convinced myself that I didn’t care.

Thank you, George. Thank you for all of them, even the bad ones. You’ve done us all a great service, and we deeply and humbly thank you.

Don’t ever fuck it up again.