The title of this blog post is generally good advice — however, I have elected to do the opposite. Yes, folks, after many years of office jobs, contract positions, and corporate roles, I’m hanging up my proverbial entry badge and lanyard, and cutting the cord. Am I retiring? Far from it.
I left my full-time role earlier this month so I could focus on the things that matter most to me. Namely, my books, my games, museum and experiential writing, and my family. I did not make this decision lightly, but rest assured that when I realized what I needed to do, a feeling of calm tranquility washed over me, and the path ahead became clear.
The Moment in Question
About two weeks after I graduated from high school, my godparents took me on a trip to Grand Cayman. I’ve written previously about the two of them here and here. We were accompanied by their son, whose tendency to get up super early in the morning gave him the lifelong nickname of “Rooster.” We went SCUBA diving on this trip in some of the most beautiful waters I’ve ever been in, especially around Devil’s Grotto. This was also the time I saw a barracuda way too up close and personal, but that’s another story.
It’s one of the most wonderful trips I’ve ever been on, together with three people I loved dearly. I remember the last few hours of that trip, I just sat under a gazebo, staring out over the brilliant turquoise and violet waters of the North Sound. I didn’t want to leave, and I think a part of me never did.
The Disney Treasure
I had always meant to go back, but could never find my way until just recently. My family went on a Disney Cruise in the Caribbean, and one of our stops was at Grand Cayman. I was on a different part of the island than the last time I stepped foot there, but the ankle-deep sand, the wind on my face, and the motion of the waves against the shore took me back to when I was a freshly minted 18-year-old.
The sad fact is that Rooster passed away when I was in college, taken way too early. I lost my godmother in 2020, and my godfather passed away almost a year ago at the time of this writing.
Now I’m the only one left who remembers that trip. To some degree this was my “Oak Tree” moment, but it was less about realizing the full scope of time in a place of history, and more about understanding that I only have so many years left to pursue my dreams with the vigor and passion they require.
Let’s just say that it brought things sharply into focus.
But How Will You Make This Work?
But Matt, I hear you saying: People don’t just quit their jobs!How will you pay your bills? How will you put gas in your car? Where will you get your protein, huh?!
First, thank you for your concern — it’s always appreciated. Second, I have been working towards this goal for some time now, trying to get things squared away and certain safeguards put in place before I could even consider making an honest go of it. All of those things had begun to align after years of preparation, culminating pretty recently. All that was left to do was to conjure up the will to finally break away, and conjure it I did, there on that beach in Grand Cayman.
Drink up, me ‘earties, yo ho!
So, here we are. This is what I do now. Sector M Games has two projects in the works, with a possible third to follow. I have decided to self-publish a series of books and short stories that I’ve been working on for a while now, while pursuing some traditional publishing routes for other books I have either finished or that are currently in production.
There are also some exciting freelance projects that I have in the works that I can’t quite talk about just yet, but there’ll be more on that as they develop. Additionally, I’ll be putting together a Sector M newsletter to keep everyone in the loop on the latest information and projects. Most importantly, I want to build up Sector M as a community that sci-fi, fantasy, and gaming enthusiasts can call home.
To that end, I need your help. I have a Patreon that’s been going for a while, and I’ve just finished a revamp of the membership tiers, so I strongly encourage you to check it out here:
These four are just the beginning. It may take me a while to spin up some of the new projects I have in mind, especially those that I’ll need to build from the ground up, but this will be my focus moving forward. For those of you who are already supporting this effort (and you know who you are), you have my heartfelt and eternal thanks.
To those of you who haven’t yet jumped on the Sector M train (in the strictly figurative sense), I hope you will check out what I have to offer and help me build towards the future. With that in mind, I hope to see you around the Sector!
As a kid, I thought that the greatest thing you could ever grow up to be was an astronaut. I know it sounds cliché, but when I was in grade school, I thought that there was no greater calling. Much of my love for science fiction stems from the science of space exploration.
There was just something about the mystique of braving the extreme dangers of outer space and coming back safely that was the ultimate in cool. Names like Aldrin, Shepard, Lovell, and even their Soviet cosmonaut counterpart, Yuri Gagarin, were the giants of my world. Let’s talk a little about why.
The Right Stuff
I believe now, as I did back then, that astronauts and what they do represent the best of us. Astronauts themselves embody peak intelligence, physical and mental discipline, courage, commitment and a willingness to push the limits of what we think is possible. On the odd chance that any astronaut, past or present, should read this blog, you are the stars of my sky. Truly. The same goes for the multitude of scientists, engineers and technical specialists that help make it all happen.
The space program, on the other hand, is the culmination of our greatest scientific, technological, and engineering efforts in an ongoing attempt to satisfy our curiosity about the universe around us — a curiosity that can never truly be satisfied. In essence, it’s our best people, doing the best work, for the greatest reason. It’s the noblest part of our humanity writ large. Yeah, I know I may be laying it on a little thick, but I really believe that.
Two Space Centers
While I’ve lived in Texas my whole life, the Johnson Space Center (JSC) in Houston was just far enough from where I went to school that we never went there as part of any field trips. This is the place that James Lovell was addressing when he said “Houston, we’ve had a problem here” during the Apollo 13 mission. It was only as an adult that I got to sit in the viewing room, among the original red velveteen seats overlooking Mission Control where Lovell’s message was received. I’ve been there a few times now, and I can’t help but be inspired every time I go. Houston is not exactly in my back yard, but it’s a weekend trip, like going down there to go to Texas Renaissance Festival (yes, the one from the documentary), or any of the many excellent museums there.
The part of NASA that I had never visited until recently, however, is the Kennedy Space Center (KSC) in Cape Canaveral, Florida, where the Mercury and Apollo missions, just to name a few, launched from originally. Rockets still launch from there today, though now commercial rockets from Blue Origin, Space X, and others are in the lineup as well.
For me, this was the place where the rubber met the proverbial road of the space program. This was the stage where it all happened, both the towering accomplishments of Apollo 11 and the tragedy of Apollo 1. Following through on President Kennedy’s aspirations to put a man on the moon is nothing less than a triumph of the human spirit.
Perhaps the most tangible symbol of this is the Saturn V rocket, which was key to the moon missions. If you’ve never seen one before, it’s massive. As tall as a 30-story building, taller than the Statue of Liberty, when you look at this rocket, you start to get an idea of what it took to get to the moon. The difference between the gigantic superstructure of the Saturn and the almost ridiculously small command module at the very top is unbelievable. It’s humbling to stand in the shadow of this titan and begin to understand the number of scientists, engineers, construction specialists, and other personnel it took to design and build something like that.
Now, I’m not blind to the driving forces behind the early space program and the finer points of the Space Race, but when I look up at a Saturn V, I see only humanity at its finest. It’s the same kind of feeling when I see a space shuttle. Well, the KSC has the Space Shuttle Atlantis (OV-104) on the grounds as well, and seeing it up close was a powerful experience.
It’s strange; the shuttle is both bigger and smaller than I had guessed. Still, I could only just stand there, looking at her for a long while. You can still see the pits and scars on the black tiles of her aft section, near her thrusters, made from micro-meteors. Even writing about it gives me chills.
Much like my trip to Graceland, I think I’ve been on a journey to the KSC for a very long time, long before I knew exactly why or could even find it on a map. I think my trips to the JSC and, ultimately, the KSC were inevitable, and I can’t wait to go back one day.
The Next Generation
Of course, there are any number of interactive experiences and displays scattered around the KSC, even a couple of rides you can go on that simulate space exploration. Much like the JSC in Houston, I definitely get the impression that many of the attractions are meant for school field trips and families with children.
I’m glad of that. Younger generations deserve to have an exciting and inspirational vision of the space sciences, astrophysics, and exploration the same as me. I mean, I grew up eating astronaut ice cream and drinking Tang, and I’ve never doubted for a minute just how important the space program is to all of us. Not just those of us in the United States, but all of us.
Why It’s Important
I’ve heard the arguments against it all, of course. I even understand where these arguments come from. Normally they go something like this: How can we afford to spend all that time, effort and money on space stuff when we have so many problems down here at home?
For me, that’s the wrong question, which boils down to: How can we affordnotto? We can talk about the tangible things that are directly attributable to the space program like the aforementioned Tang, non-stick coating for pots and pans, and so on, but many of the advances we enjoy today, like computers, cell phones, the internet, have their roots in the pursuit of space.
But more than that, consider this: The space program is a catalyst for science and technology that isn’t war. It is a peaceful way for us to learn more about life, the universe, and everything. Space is also one of the few fronts where nations that are actively hostile on the ground can still cooperate up there.
Final Thoughts
Space is the one place where humanity can really come together for the betterment of all. At least, that’s how it’s been, and I hope it continues on that way. I know that sounds a bit pie-in-the sky, and maybe it is, but that is one of the reasons that the space program resonates so heavily with me. It’s the best of us, exploring the unknown, and uniting in a shared purpose.
Many of my posts lately have mentioned the character of Gandalf from The Lord of the Rings, and that got me to thinking about the kind of role that he plays in his story. That led to me considering similar characters throughout fiction. These types of characters, the mentors and the secondary characters, play a crucial role in their respective stories.
Anytime we get a story with a strong mentor character, the odds go way up that I’ll be tuned in, especially when it’s their turn to give an inspiring speech or just the right piece of wisdom to set the protagonist on the proper path.
With that in mind, I’ve put together a list of some of my favorite mentors in fiction, detailing why I love them so much. True, the majority of them are from the fantasy/sci-fi genres, but that’s just because the stories that have influenced me the most have been in those spaces. This list represents the stories that have had the biggest impact on me, as well as the ones nearest and dearest to my heart.
Who They Are
Before we get into the list proper, let’s talk about my criteria for a good mentor character. First and foremost, a mentor is wise and experienced. This often means that the mentor is older than the protagonist. They can be, at times, more book-smart or informed than the protagonist, but not always. More often than not, these characters tend to be male, as they often double as a father figure to the protagonist, though this is thankfully starting to change.
Sometimes the mentor is more powerful than the protagonist, but this is not required. In some tellings, the mentor starts out more powerful but then the protagonist eventually surpasses them. Mentors who are less powerful than their protagonists present an even more interesting dynamic as they must guide the hero in wielding powers they may not possess themselves.
Mentors are often self-sacrificing as well, as evidenced by how often they die in their duties or the things they are willing to sacrifice for their ideals. In that sense, mentors tend to have a noble streak even if it’s not always apparent at first glance.
Who They Aren’t
Mentors, by their very nature, are not meant to be the main character (thus the “secondary character” epithet). Likewise, they are not generally marked by destiny, fate or the demands of the world in the way that the protagonist is. They are, to coin a term from Sky High, “hero support” in a very real way.
Generally speaking, the protagonist can’t go it alone. They usually need help to learn what is required to reach for that seemingly impossible end-point. It is the mentor’s training/wisdom/lessons that will ultimately empower the protagonist on their journey, allowing them to reach higher and go further than they ever thought possible. When the story’s denouement inevitably comes, the protagonist often finds that none of it would have been possible without the help of their mentor.
Perhaps most importantly, the mentor isn’t the one to make the big play, but rather their actions empower the protagonist to become the turning point of the story in their own right.
The Mentor Hall of Fame
1. Uncle Iroh
Avatar: The Last Airbender
Let’s start with one of the all-time greats. Voiced originally by Mako, Uncle Iroh occupies a unique space in that his charge, his nephew, Zuko, is not actually the protagonist. Quite the opposite, in fact, especially in the early parts of the story. Eventually Zuko comes around, after perhaps one of the best redemption arcs ever, and Iroh is willing to share his wisdom with the rest of Team Avatar, and Aang, Kitara, Sokka, Toph and the rest are better off for it.
Iroh doesn’t stop there. He even makes a few cameos in The Legend of Korra, dispensing his usual brand of avuncular wisdom to Avatar Korra. Despite his nearly unsinkable attitude and positivity throughout incredible hardships, there is a sadness at the core of him following the tragic death of his son. In that way, he is not only a surrogate father to Zuko, but Zuko is a surrogate son to him. I think that Mako’s performance really lent the character a depth and nuance that we don’t find very often. While they were big shoes to fill, I think that Greg Baldwin did a fantastic job in picking up the role when Mako passed away.
2. Rupert Giles
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
For me, Giles practically personifies this type of character for many reasons. While he may have the book smarts, experience, and wisdom, he doesn’t have the powers of the Slayer. He’s just a regular bloke who is there to make sure that Buffy is ready to face the challenges before her.
Often, Giles is called upon to back her up in battle against foes that are far beyond the scope of any regular person, which I think makes his bravery that much more extraordinary. While he has only a fraction of Buffy’s physical strength, reflexes, and resilience, he’s always there, he doesn’t back down, and he genuinely cares for Buffy, perhaps more than he should in his position as her Watcher. More than that, he also has a clear understanding of the incredible pressures that Buffy, as the Chosen One, is constantly under. He would gladly take that burden from her but knows that he can’t. Ultimately, Buffy has to be the Slayer. He can’t slay her demons, but he can be there for her when it counts the most.
3. Morpheus
The Matrix
Pro tip: If your mentor character is played by the inestimable Lawrence Fishburne, you are winning at life. Such is the case with Neo from TheMatrix. Morpheus is not only a guide to Neo in understanding the Matrix itself but he is also willing to personally sacrifice himself simply because he truly believes that Neo is the One, even when Neo himself has doubts. Like Giles, Morpheus is incredibly good at what he does, but realizes that soon Neo will fully surpass him, and he’s okay with that. His mentee is fated to be something greater than anyone could possibly imagine.
Even when this transition does happen, Neo is canny enough to realize that Morpheus’ experience, world view, and tactical brilliance are things that he will need if he wants to take the fight to the machines. Things got a bit weird in the sequels for Morpheus (and really all members of Team Neo), but I still think that Morpheus is one of the most shining examples of a mentor in the movies, full stop.
4. Fin Raziel
Willow
Willow was a favorite of mine when I was a kid. Even back then, I saw the similarities to Star Wars, even before I realized that George Lucas was behind both properties. She was an interesting change of pace in that she is initially pretty powerless when Willow encounters her, little more than a talking animal. And yet, she is able to get Willow on the path to being a sorcerer. Eventually, she returns to human form and is back up to her powers that far surpass Willow’s, yet this change does not really alter their relationship. I also applaud her for not lingering on the fact that she has aged during her exile. It shows that vanity barely registers with her, and that the mission to restore peace to the land is much more important to her.
In this story, she is the only one capable of taking on the main villain, Queen Bavmorda, in a spell duel. Raziel ultimately fails when it comes to the boss fight, but she buys Willow the time he needs to save Elora Dannan. But even when she falls in the final fight, Raziel does what any good mentor does: she steps aside to give her protagonist the moment to shine.
5. Obi-Wan Kenobi
Star Wars
The quintessential mentor character, Master Obi-Wan was mentor to two separate protagonists in his day. While his first outing at the job went spectacularly wrong, ultimately giving rise to Darth Vader, one of the most memorable movie villains ever, he is ultimately able to be a mentor to Luke and set his charge on the right path. The remarkable thing is that he accomplishes this without all that much screentime, and does sacrifice himself to allow Luke to get away (ironically dying by the hand of his former protagonist). Not content with that, Obi-Wan even comes back after his death to give Luke a bit more advice on three separate occasions. Talk about a commitment to the role!
When we see these types of characters on the movie screen, it’s so important that the actor behind them exude that type of experience, competence, and wisdom that are so critical for establishing the mentor in the minds of the audience. Sir Alec Guiness did that and made it look effortless. Later on, Ewan MacGregor picked up the role wonderfully. While the prequel trilogy often gets razzed, the moment where Ewan’s Obi-Wan laments to a defeated Anakin that he was the chosen one really hits home. He’s pouring out his sorrow and pain at having to fight his friend, all with the knowledge he has utterly failed in his role as a mentor. The power of that scene really is a testament to MacGregor’s acting chops.
6. Violet Crawley
Downton Abbey
As mentors go, the Dowager Countess defies many conventions. Violet is primarily a mentor to her granddaughter, Lady Mary, but to the rest of her family at various points, too. That is not Violet’s only role in the series — her frenemy relationship with Isobel springs to mind — but it comes back to that time and time again. Of course, Violet has quite a few blind spots for being part of the old guard of the English aristocracy. Yet in a changing world, she speaks with hard-won wisdom on how to negotiate the upper echelons of power and influence. We find that she’s made many mistakes in her time, and the resulting experience is something she shares with Lady Mary so that her granddaughter (hopefully) won’t make those same mistakes.
One of the most compelling points about her character is simply that she was once in the same position as Lady Mary. She had her time as a countess, living in the main suites of Downton Abbey, then moved on from that time in her life when her husband died. Even in a kind of retirement for the Peerage, she is still a will and force to be reckoned with. Some of my favorite moments in that show come from Dame Maggie Smith’s performance. Much like Lawrence Fishburne, if Maggie Smith is playing your mentor, the universe has smiled upon you. May she rest in peace.
7. Gandalf
The Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings
I thought I would end this list with perhaps the greatest mentor figure in all of fiction. The opposite of Giles, Gandalf the Grey is almost infinitely more powerful than his protagonist, Frodo Baggins. He’s an immortal, angelic being that has been sent by the Valar to Middle-earth to defeat Sauron. Frodo, on the other hand, is more diminutive than even an average human, and largely powerless. By design, Gandalf is there to advise, to observe, and to help rather than be the prime mover of the conflict. He knows when to impart just the right nugget of wisdom to those around him, elevating them to greater heights, or show them the error of their ways.
When Círdan the Shipwright meets Gandalf as he enters Middle-earth, the ancient elf gives the wizard Narya, the Ring of Fire, telling him “with it you may rekindle hearts in a world that grows chill.” Círdan naturally recognized what Gandalf’s role was fated to be in the coming conflict. Gandalf definitely has some things in common with Merlin from the Arthurian legends. This makes sense when you consider that Tolkien was trying to create a body of myths that were inherently British, rather than a French invention, but he did take a lot of cues from those stories.
In any case, Gandalf really is the gold standard for literary mentor figures on the page and screen, and I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about just how great Sir Ian McKellan’s performance as this character really was. Not for the first time, when the world grows dark, I wish that Gandalf were really here among us to give us just the nudge we need to get on the right path, along with the accompanying inspirational speech so that we don’t give up.
Honorable Mentions
Here are several characters that partially fulfill the role of a mentor, but have enough ‘main character energy’ as the kid’s say. They have the wisdom and experience, but are not necessarily secondary characters with full agency and story arcs of their own as the protagonist:
Optimus Prime
Tyrion Lannister
Polgara the Sorceress
Mary Poppins
Captain America
Professor X
Final Thoughts
I think what I like most about mentors as a reoccurring device in literature stems from the genuine love they bear for their protagonists. Their journey is a deeply heartfelt and personal one. It isn’t just a job to them; it’s their mission in life. They embody what it means to be committed to an ideal, one that almost always means more to them than their own life.
Mentors are the helping hand that’s extended when the hero needs it most, the purveyors of insight to reframe the hero’s perspective for the better, and the guiding light to show the hero that there’s more to them than they may guess. Finding a person like this in the real world is a true rarity, and if you’ve ever had one in your life, count yourself lucky.
But really, I think that mentors represent the assistance we wish we’d had in those times when help never came, as well as the kind of wise, stabilizing figure that we hope we can be to those close to us in the future.
Here’s a fact about yours truly you may not know: My writing career began at a metropolitan newspaper … as an obituary writer. I was 18, just starting out in college, and was recruited by the instructor of my Mass Communications class.
I stayed at this job for more than three years while I went to school. Once I graduated, I went into the world of marketing and advertising, where I have largely remained. Well, at my day job recently, I wrote an obituary for a prior employee who had passed away. For a moment, I dusted off that skillset of where I started out as a writer. It was a sad duty, but one I accepted, for reasons that I will get into later in this post.
While this was all on my mind, I wanted to put down in words some of the things I learned in this early role, why I ultimately left it, and why I think that obituaries and funeral services, in general, are important.
Life and Death in the Obit Department
For the most part, I was just a writer at a desk, working on a computer like everyone else, but there were additional elements that made the job emotionally challenging. We had a random number of obituaries that would come in each day, and this job taught me about deadlines. Do whatever you need to do, just make sure your copy is in by 3:00.
We would verify all the elements of an obituary with the funeral home, often just the spelling of a name that looked off, or a birthday if the one listed on the intake form didn’t match up, things like that. Most of the time, we would just call up the funeral home and speak to one of their representatives, but sometimes we would need to contact the family.
Understand that these were people who had lost a loved one a day or two prior to this call, or even that same day. They were often confused, angry and still trying to wrap their head around their loss, so we had to be very gentle with them. While we had to remain professional, everyone understood that a dose of empathy and understanding could go a long way.
Perhaps the most heartbreaking part was when they would show up to the office to deliver a photo of their loved one. They might even look fine and composed when they walked through the door. It was the moment that they handed the photo over that they almost always started crying. That act was what brought the realization of their grief to the forefront for them. It made the loss real. We had a special side room with a box of tissues and two chairs to give them space to compose themselves. I must’ve seen this scene play out dozens of times during my tenure there.
It wasn’t all bad, however. Because we dealt with dozens of names per day, there were times we started to see emerging trends in when a person was born and the theme of their name. For instance, from about 1908 to the early 1920s, it became popular to name girls after precious stones. Pearl, Emerald, Opal, and so forth. My great-grandmother, who was born in 1911, was named Ruby.
We also determined that the average age of the incoming obituaries was around 77, which was skewed every once in a while by a younger person, usually a teenager, who tragically died in a car wreck or a similar accident.
Of course there were exceptions.
Why I Stopped
Much of what I learned about journalism in those early days drove home the idea of professional detachment, of learning and reporting the facts without getting too close as that might harm your objectivity. That wasn’t always easy when you were dealing with grieving families on a daily basis. Even when they would sometimes call up the office and yell and scream at us for getting something wrong (whether it was actually wrong or not), I knew that was just their grief talking. I still had a job to do, and I couldn’t get too wrapped up in any one case or else I simply wouldn’t be able to function in that space.
As the saying goes, it was bound to happen, and one day it did. I received an obituary for an eight-year-old boy. Any time I received an obit in my queue that was in the single digits, it warranted a second look, just to make sure that neither the family nor the funeral home had left out a digit.
This one came with the photo, an Olan Mills portrait of the kid. And let me tell you, this photo was so good that it looked like one that might come with a wallet or a blank picture frame. He had a big smile on his face like he was about to burst out laughing, a smile that was reflected in his eyes. He just looked so full of life. I was immediately saddened just by seeing this boy who should’ve still been alive, but wasn’t. My professional detachment took a major hit. All through the day, I was haunted by the thought of this boy. Often, the cause of death wasn’t reported to us, so I never found out what had taken him.
As I worked through this obituary, I found that there was some inconsistency in the information that was provided. For the life of me, I don’t remember what it was, perhaps a family member’s name that looked misspelled or a mismatch between the day of the week for services and the day of the month. I called the funeral home, but no one picked up. Standard procedure was to then call the family. This boy had lived with his family in Alaska, so I dialed the number.
This was long enough ago that folks still had answering machines. Well, guess whose voice greeted me, inviting me to leave my name and number after the beep? I sat there at my desk, looking down at his photo while that boy’s voice spoke to me on the phone, and his voice exactly matched his photo. My detachment shattered at that point. I can’t remember now if I even left a message. I likely did, but it was suddenly my turn to use the side room to try to compose myself.
I never looked at the job the same way again. Sometimes in the hustle to meet deadlines, the names and dates and associations all blurred together. Sometimes you stopped seeing them as people and viewed them as just line items on a list, as tasks that needed to be completed. This little boy stopped me in my tracks, giving me a sharp reminder that each name was attached to a family that was morning their loss. But how could something as simple as an obituary encapsulate the fullness and nuance of someone’s life? The truth was it couldn’t.
It wouldn’t.
It shouldn’t.
I limped along in this job for another few months, but I knew I was done. I went to work for a local phone company, and while there were a few opportunities for me to come back to the obit department along the way, I never did.
Why They Are Important
Obituaries may be a flawed and limited way to mark someone’s passing, but time and reflection have changed my attitudes toward them. The same goes with funerals and memorial services. They are sad affairs, of course, but they help us frame the loss in our minds when everything seems in chaos. They are a necessary step to help us mourn and begin to heal.
“This is where we part.”
When I said earlier that I hadn’t written an obituary in a while, that wasn’t precisely true. What I meant was a formal obituary, one where I didn’t know the individual personally. The fact is that I have been writing obituaries of a kind right here on this blog, though they are a far cry from what I did at the newspaper. In these, my detachment had completely gone out the airlock, and rightfully so. These were people that I loved, that I still love, whose loss devastated me, and I still wrestle with their loss. (You can find them here, here, and here.)
Obituaries, like funerals, are for the living. While they can help us get back on the proverbial horse, they have another function, one that I think is the most important: It’s how we remember them. When someone is gone, that’s one of the greatest honors that one human can do for another — simply to remember them fondly.
A Note On Empathy
Of course, I couldn’t let a heavy topic like this go by without some sort of geeky reference, so here it is. In The Lord of the Rings, Gandalf was an angelic being known as a maiar.Other powerful figures in the story, such as Saruman and Sauron, were part of this same group. Each of the maiar were at some point apprenticed to one of the valar, much more powerful beings that were effectively gods. In Gandalf’s case, he had served Nienna, the vala whose portfolio was grief and sadness. She continually wept for all the pain in Arda, even for things that had not yet come to pass. It’s thought that the reason Gandalf understood empathy and pity so well was because of this affiliation.
With that in mind, I’m a big proponent of the adage that we should always be kind to people because we never know what war they’re secretly fighting that we know nothing about. Our friends, our family, our co-workers may be going through some seriously emotional stuff, and we may never be aware of it. Perhaps a small kindness from you is what helps someone who is struggling to get through their day. Having been in various states of mourning for more than a year now, I know this to be true.
Yes, it’s easy to be cynical about this, especially with all that is going on around us, and it seems like it’s everyone for themselves. I’ve noticed a quote from Elon Musk that’s been floating around on Twitter these days. There are a few variations, but they all more or less come down to this:
“The fundamental weakness of Western civilization is empathy.”
I’m not sure that I could disagree with this statement more. I think that it’s a lack of empathy that is the root cause of much of our suffering, and the overwhelming majority of our problems. Our worst vices, our inhumanity to each other, all stem from a lack of empathy. So, in a world where we could choose to have more or less of it, I would choose more every time.
The Paramount+ streaming service released the latest Star Trek movie, Section 31, a few weeks ago to pretty lackluster reviews. While Rotten Tomatoes is definitely not the end-all, be-all barometer of how media is received, the movie currently sits (at the time of this writing) at 17%, lower even than Star Trek: Nemesis and Star Trek V: The Final Frontier.
To be clear, this blog post is not about the movie, despite having “Section 31” in the name. I have not seen the movie in question, and likely won’t, for reasons that will become clear here shortly. Instead, I want to explore the concept of Section 31, why I think it undermines the underlying ideals of Star Trek, and why that matters maybe more than we think.
I have Jerry Goldsmith’s incredible Star Trek: The Motion Picture score (where we first get the theme that will eventually be the Next Generation theme) playing in my headphones, so let’s do this.
What is Section 31?
First, in case there is any doubt, let me say that I absolutely love me some Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, where the idea of Section 31 was originally established. Some of the best writing and acting Star Trek has ever had came from those seven seasons of television. Garak may very well be my favorite Star Trek character of all time, played by the incomparable Andrew Robinson. The slow breakdown of Avery Brooks’ author persona in “Far Beyond the Stars” stands out as one of the best performances I’ve ever seen, Star Trek or otherwise.
DS9 put aside the episodic nature that TNG had in favor of long story arcs that took place over multiple episodes, or even several seasons. It also wasn’t afraid to show a Federation that was facing its own extinction at the hands of the Dominion, and the desperation that evoked, such as in the episode “The Pale Moonlight.” It didn’t try to romanticize war. Quite the opposite, in fact. While it was certainly a darker and grittier Star Trek, even at its most dire, it wasn’t nihilistic. There was always hope, even if it was, as Gandalf would call it, a fool’s hope.
It was into this environment that we first meet Section 31, a super-secret wing of the Federation’s Intelligence services, first introduced in the 6th season episode, “Inquisition.” At the end of this episode, we find out that Section 31 has been around since the founding of the Federation.
We subsequently meet the face of Section 31, Luther Sloan (played by William Sadler), again in “Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges,” where a Section 31 operation frames an innocent Romulan Senator, who was an ardent supporter of the Federation/Romulan cooperative effort, as being a traitor to the cause, who is likely executed for her supposed crimes.
Lastly, in “Extreme Measures,” it’s revealed that Section 31 has engineered a virus to kill Changelings in an attempt to eradicate the Founders of the Dominion. Sloan dies in this episode, allowing the characters to stop this genocide before it starts, but it’s implied that there are so many more operations that Section 31 has going on that nobody has any clue about, and with his death, likely never will.
The Damage Report
So, we have kidnapping, murder, assassination, and out-and-out genocide. If those seem like very un-Federation things, even the characters in the show are appalled by Section 31’s actions. Odo even comments, “The Federation claims to abhor Section 31’s tactics, but when they need the dirty work done, they look the other way. It’s a tidy little arrangement, wouldn’t you say?”
While there is a line saying that Section 31 is not precisely affiliated with Starfleet or the Federation, they are still part of the Federation’s founding charter, so presumably they’ve been around since the very beginning doing some truly horrific things just behind the scenes.
This is framed by Sadler’s character as Section 31 doing the dirty work so that the people of the Federation can sleep well at night, protecting people of virtue from the external threats of those who do not share their high-minded ideals.
Effectively, that means that mankind never really changed. Despite all of the great speeches by Kirk and Picard about how humanity was able to grow out of its infancy in a post-scarcity society and become something greater, something more noble than where we are right now, it’s really just an illusion. All this time, Section 31 has been quietly clearing the way for the Federation to appear as this enlightened society, but that was never really the case. The utopian idea of the Federation is a lie.
For my part, undercutting the Federation like that really takes the heart out of Star Trek. I think the idea of Section 31 actually does significant damage to the intellectual property as a whole. Those three episodes of DS9 really opened Pandora’s box.
Unfortunately, the Kurtzman-era of Star Trek can’t seem to get enough of Section 31. The movie was meant to be an entire series, but Michelle Yeoh won a much-deserved Oscar, so the project was limited in scope to a single, feature-length movie. No shade on the actors or crew, but I hope that’s as far as it goes and Section 31 can be retired for the time being.
The Jason Bourne Effect
Allow me a brief sidebar about James Bond. So, when Daniel Craig took over the role of 007 in Casino Royale, it was clear that they had scaled back a lot of things from Pierce Brosnan’s last entry in Die Another Day. This Bond had little in the way of spy gadgets or tricked out vehicles. While not precisely humorless, there was none of the playfulness and fun that had come from many other installments in the franchise. The whole tone and presentation of the story felt way more like the Jason Bourne movies with a grittier, more grounded approach.
The issue is that Bond had its own unique kind of formula, something we didn’t really get anywhere else. Sure, Austin Powers, parodied that formula to the nth degree, but it was able to do so because the Bond Formula was so successful and recognizable, having drawn in audiences for 40 years by the time of Craig’s run as the master spy. Timothy Dalton’s License to Kill was the one that famously departed from that formula, and it showed. Bond was simply on a revenge trip against a major drug cartel figure. Up until that point, there had been a Bond film every two or three years since the original Dr. No in 1961. After License to Kill, it was six years before Brosnan brought Bond back in 1995’s Goldeneye, which saw a return to the proven formula.
Jason Bourne was meant to stand in contrast to Bond, as something in the same genre but fundamentally different. If audiences wanted a harder-edged look at the spy game, they already had that with the Jason Bourne movies and other series like them. Bond, on the other hand, was a unique blend that we didn’t really get anywhere else. By making Bond more like Bourne, we lost the uniqueness of the franchise. After that, it felt like any other spy movie series.
What does any of that have to do with Star Trek? Simple, we don’t get a whole lot of truly utopian science fiction. If you want dystopian sci-fi, you are literally spoiled for choice. There’s a lot of it out there. When you make Star Trek nihilistic and hypocritical, you’re losing the very thing that set Star Trek apart and made it such an enduring and iconic franchise in the first place.
Why It Matters
Okay, so if it’s just a TV show and series of movies, why would any of that really matter? Who cares besides a bunch of fanboys? Well, think about the sheer number of people over the years who have become doctors, scientists, engineers, or any number of other careers, who have made real contributions to these fields because Star Trek showed them a vision of the future that was hopeful, even inspiring.
Look, I get it — we don’t look at the future the same way anymore. When I was a kid, there was still some sense of optimism for the future. Now, more often than not, the future is something that we dread. It could be argued that a darker, less idealistic Star Trek is what appeals to modern audiences, especially younger generations who may not have a whole lot to look forward to as the issues that affect them most are largely ignored or exacerbated.
My counter argument to that would be that bleak times are when we need inspirational fiction more than ever. Remember, TOS came out during the Cold War, when World War II still loomed large in the public consciousness, just three years after the near-apocalypse of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and during the height of the Civil Rights movement.
Kirk’s Enterprise showed us that we could eventually put all of our differences aside and work in harmony. It’s no mistake that there’s a Russian navigator and a Japanese helmsman. The late-great Nichelle Nichols famously told the story of how she wanted to quit the show to pursue her stage career, but was talked out of it by Martin Luther King, Jr. I invite you to watch it you haven’t seen it already. It’s beautiful. In it, she mentions that Dr. King would allow his kids to stay up past their bedtime to watch the show.
My parents did the same for me, who were both big fans. The TOS episodes in syndication would come on late at night, but I was allowed to stay up late to watch them. I have to contrast that against the fact that I wouldn’t allow my young son to watch modern Star Trek really at all, considering the explicit or gratuitous depictions of torture and violence that are extremely frequent (the whole Icheb thing on Picard springs to mind), to say nothing of its lack of a clear moral message and depressing, hopeless tone.
I know it may seem grandiose, even hubristic, to say, but I think the world needs something like Star Trek to show us that all hope isn’t lost, that things can be better — that we can be better. So, when I say that Section 31 erodes all that, and makes Star Trek just like any other grimdark look at the future, it has further-reaching ramifications than being a mere show.
Final Thoughts
In Gene Roddenberry’s vision of Star Trek, we humans finally found our humanity, and built a society based on the better angels of our nature. Star Trek: The Next Generation continued and maintained that vision. Star Trek: Deep Space Nine did as well, at first, but ultimately introduced a concept that, for me, runs entirely counter to everything up to that point. Since it wasn’t really touched on in Voyager or Enterprise, the concept of Section 31 might have stayed contained in those few episodes of DS9.
The current crop of Star Trek shows, however, have instead chosen to embrace Section 31 at almost every turn, culminating with the eponymous movie. I will, however, give credit to Star Trek: Strange New Worlds for attempting to rekindle a bit of that optimism that I think is vitally important, but even it has struggled with being consistent on that count when Captain Pike is likely doomed to be horribly disfigured in an accident that he knows is in his future. Also, the episode “Lift Us Up Where Suffering Cannot Reach” was such an epic downer that it very nearly made me stop watching the show.
So, it is my sincere hope that Star Trek is able to course correct and step away from the Section 31 focus moving forward and get back to showing us a future we would actually want to live in, rather than being, perhaps unintentionally, deconstructionist of the franchise. Bottom line, I have always believed that science fiction is one of the surest ways to inspire ourselves as a people, to give us something to reach for on the far horizon, and Star Trek is at the forefront of that frontier. It would be a shame to lose it, too.
Thanks for reading, I wish you all peace and long life.
My last few blogs have been, well, a bit of a downer. So, I thought I would start things off for 2025 with something on the lighter side. As you likely know by now, I am big into TTRPGs, particularly D&D. I’ve been playing these kinds of games since I was about 13, and I really never stopped. It’s one of my favorite hobbies, right up there with reading, video games, and so forth.
Today, I would like to share with you a list of ten words and terms that entered my vocabulary from playing TTRPGs and D&D specifically. Let’s dive right in.
1.) Encumbrance
While more modern versions of D&D use encumbrance to denote how much your character can carry, I originally learned this word in the context of why you couldn’t do backflips or cast spells while in full plate armor. This came along pretty early in my gaming career when a wizard character of mine attempted to put on heavy armor only to find out that he could barely maneuver while in it and couldn’t cast any of his spells. Needless to say, he ditched the heavy armor pretty quickly afterward and got back to shooting magic missile at practically any opponent as an opening gambit.
2.) PC/NPC
I count these two as one since they are closely related. If you’re not familiar with them, we have PC, or “Player Character” and NPC, or “Non-Player Character.” The PCs are the characters that people play in a TTRPG, and NPCs are everyone else. These terms eventually migrated over to video games. The central idea of the movie Free Guy depends on the audience knowing that Guy (played by Ryan Reynolds) is a digital character in an online video game. When I hear the phrase “Main Character Energy,” my mind always goes “Oh, so they’re a PC, got it.”
3.) Gamemaster/Dungeon Master
Tabletop roleplaying games have a lot of names for this role at the table: Gamemaster (or GM), Judge, Referee, Storyteller, and Dungeon Master. By the time I played D&D, I was already familiar with the Palladium RPG system and Rolemaster, so I was already in the know with someone being a GM and GM-ing a game. Dungeon Master (or DM) was something I picked up from D&D since it’s a term specific to that game system (though I knew it from the cartoon first instead of the game). Even today, I tend to use the more generic “GM” term, even when referring to D&D. It might also have something to do with it being easier to explain to family members who aren’t familiar with TTRPGS that you are a gamemaster rather than a dungeon master.
4.) Metagame
At first, this concept came to me as the difference between “player knowledge” and “character knowledge.” So, if you’re playing Grog, a 2nd-level barbarian, you (the player) may know how fast the speed of light is, but chances are that Grog (the character) will not have a clue about it. So, those who would use their player knowledge in place of their character knowledge (i.e. Grog suddenly understanding advanced physics) were said to be metagaming. That’s something GMs/DMs have to police at times, though thankfully the players I game with are very discerning on this point.
5.) Wards/Runes/Sigils
Once again, I’m grouping these together since they are similar in nature. I knew of runes before playing D&D from learning about the real-world runic alphabet. Through gaming, I learned of them as something inherently magical. So, a wizard or magic-user might scribe or carve a symbol into something and then imbue that symbol with some kind of magical spell or effect. Sigils often worked the same way, though I always got the impression that sigils were more Elven, while runes were more of a Dwarven thing (your fantasy mileage may vary). Wards, while not necessarily a symbol, were magical protections that could be placed on an object or area to prevent intrusion, theft, or general skullduggery. However, both runes and sigils could act as wards. Magic!
6.) Dweomer
Often pronounced “dwimmer,” in game terms this is often used to describe the inherent aura a magical item or place gives off. While this word is not used as much anymore, a more common expression is something’s “enchantment.” An enchanted sword, enchanted forest, you get it — a dweomer is some kind of ongoing or semi-permanent magical effect or property. I was also pleased to find that Dwarves in the Elder Scrolls video game series (who are actually Elves) are called the “Dwemer,” which is fitting considering their knowledge of magic was light-years ahead of anyone else in that world.
7.) Somatic
Spell descriptions in D&D generally have three kinds of components: vocal, so the magic words uttered by the spellcaster; material, or the little bits of stuff the caster must have on their person (the proverbial eye of newt and toe of frog), and lastly the somatic component. This last one represents the wavy bits that magic-users do with their hands, the intricate hand gestures and motions they must go through to bring the spell forth. Up until I read the Player’s Handbook for the first time back in the day, I had never run across this term before.
8.) Caltrops
Honestly, the first time I heard this term used I thought the person said “cough drops.” Now I know that these are little bits of sharp metal that you can throw on the ground. The design of caltrops is such that no matter which way they land, they have a point sticking straight up. They are used to impede an opponent’s movement since the opponent in question would either need to slow down to avoid stepping on them or run through them and risk facing the wrath of what could be described as tactical Lego blocks.
9.) Level Up
It amazes me sometimes how far and wide this term is known and referenced. I saw the other day both The Gap and Old Navy talking about leveling up your experience. Likely, that’s to appeal to gamers, specifically video gamers. Yet the term as I understand it really came from the tabletop space, and that’s certainly where it first came into my own personal gamer lexicon. There’s just something cool about finishing a game session and learning that your character has leveled up. The Final Fantasy victory music almost always springs to mind when this happens.
10.) Psionics
I first encountered this term in the Palladium fantasy RPG setting when I played a “Mind Mage,” a user of psionics or mind magic. Later, when I played the Traveller RPG (which would eventually lead to my first novel), I discovered the Zhodani who were a society of psionicists. So, I suppose that this one didn’t technically come from D&D as the title of this blog would suggest, but D&D did have psionics as well that further cemented the concept in…(wait for it)…my mind.
Honorable Mentions
Playing TTRPGs has a way of rewiring your brain when it comes to certain things. I include this section because there are five words in particular that have permanently changed in my vocabulary to the game version. When the words aren’t used in a gaming context, I have to push past my initial gaming reaction. You know, it’s like when a song that Weird Al Yankovic has parodied comes on, but you find yourself singing the Weird Al lyrics anyway. No? Just me?
Initiative
Campaign
Critical
Encounter
Module
Final Thoughts
I’ve always believed that playing TTRPGs exercises many parts of your mind. I’m better at math, managing money, tactical and strategic thinking, acting and improvisation, funny voices, and worldbuilding because I play these games. In addition to that, it’s great for the vocabulary. The words and terms that I showcased here are just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
If you are a gamer of these games already, you likely know precisely what I’m talking about. If you are interested but have never tried them, I highly recommend that you do so. Adventures and worlds you can scarcely imagine are waiting for you out there.
If you read my last post of 2024, you’ll know that my creative victories for last year were fairly sparse, particularly on the literary side. Overall, it was a pretty mixed bag, though there were some real bright spots along the way. Let’s go ahead and discuss it all, the proverbial good, the bad, and the ugly.
The Bad News
I thought I would change it up and deliver the bad news first. So, let’s go ahead and get this out of the way.
A Swing and a Miss: Early in 2024, an interesting opportunity presented itself. One of the Big Four publishers was interested in one of my fantasy manuscripts. It was sent on submission and we waited…and waited. Months passed with no news, but publishing is not a game for the impatient. Finally, the editor in question simply stopped communicating with us. It’s frustrating, as it has taken years to get to this position only for the editor to essentially ghost us. But, there is actually a mark of distinction for an author in having a project ‘die on submission.’ It means that you almost got there, as the next step would have been a book deal. Next time, if I can just achieve one step higher, I should be on better ground. As is the case with publishing, it’s nothing until its something. Back to square one.
IYKYK
A Shifting Situation: In addition to the copious amounts of personal strife this year, I also changed jobs around mid-year, and it has both been one of the most difficult professional transitions of my career and quite unlike anything I’ve ever done. Between that and some other potential employment issues with my family, the stress and lack of mental bandwidth pulled me out of my regular writing schedule. I couldn’t find my way back to one until the middle of November (more on that below). So, as a result, I have very little to show on the fiction side of things. Almost every goal I made last year failed, and I’m not sure when I will be able to circle back around to them again. I made marginal progress on the sci-fi novella I mentioned in the last State of the Sector address, but even that eventually hit a brick wall. If there is good news, it’s that the holiday break has seen a renewed fire in my veins when it comes to my fictional stories. We will see how that fares now that my holiday break is over.
Sector M Store is Closing: I will be closing the Sector M store in February. I won’t delete it entirely in case there is ever a renewed need for it. Unfortunately, it requires a decent amount of maintenance and costs to keep it running, and sales of any Sector M merch have effectively flat-lined. So, I will renew all the designs that are currently available for the time being, but I plan on shutting it down on Saturday, February 1. So, if there are any designs that appeal to you, now would be a good time to seize upon them. You can find the Sector M store here.
Sector M Games’ Future Uncertain: This year, we published two titles on the DMs Guild, The Artificer’s Guide to Magic Items and The Knights of SolamniaRevisited. Both have been well received by the community, and both were featured in the DMs Guild’s weekly newsletter. I did have a manuscript for a third installment for the DMs Guild, but it’s looking like that will need to be shelved for the foreseeable future. With so much uncertainty in my family’s situation, my disposable income (which I use to finance my game projects) just may not be available for some time to come. My philosophy for these supplements has always been to make them as good as possible, and I want to stick to that. So, I would much rather hold off on projects until they can be approached with high standards than try to rush something out. If anything changes on this front, I will make a special update post here on the blog to let everyone know.
Wavering Blog Deadlines: As a writer, I like to meet my deadlines consistently. My track record with 2024’s blog posts were…troubled, particularly as the year wore on. I still delivered all twelve as intended, but I found myself having to adjust publication dates, sometimes by a few weeks to fully deliver them. I will attempt to be more consistent in 2025, though many of the same factors that caused those delays are still in play. For this next year, here are my target dates for new blogs each month. Of course, there could be some wiggle room, but here’s the schedule I’m going with right now:
Okay, I know that was a lot in the way of bad news. Trust me, if it was difficult for you to get through, it was equally hard for me to write. It’s not every year that the wheels just come right off of almost everything. In light of all the things that went wrong or just didn’t materialize this year, it makes the bright spots shine all the brighter.
The Blog’s Best Months: Traffic on this blog has definitely picked up in the last couple of years. I’m now getting traffic in a week that might have taken a month or two before that. I think part of it is regular updates, in my case at least once a month. I’ve had this blog since May of 2013, and as far as I can tell, October, November, and December of this year were the three top months it has ever had. I know that many blogs tend to specialize and be mainly about one thing. This blog is a sort of potpourri of museums and history, nerdy/geeky stuff, writing topics, and just the odd things running through my mind. Thank you for coming back and checking it out. If you are a regular here, I strongly encourage you to follow this blog so you don’t miss a post. (There should be a pop-up when you visit that you can click on to do this.)
A tall ship and a star to steer her by.
DMs Guild Releases: As I stated above, we released two titles on the DMs Guild in 2024, one in January and the other in November. The Artificer’s Guide to Magic Items is the more expansive of the two, and it is available as either a downloadable PDF or as a hardcopy format (if you get the hardcopy, you also get the PDF version for free). The other title, The Knights of Solamnia Revisited, is for fans of Dragonlance, and it’s only available as a PDF. I do intend to follow up on both of them with some FAQ and example PDFs that will be available as a free download. That is in the works, though I’m not sure at the time of this writing when they will be ready for release. In any case, if you haven’t picked up a copy of either/both titles, check them out. I’m proud of how they turned out.
An Unexpected Wizard Story: As is often the case, when I’m deep into writing another story, I invariably have intrusive ideas for other stories. As I struggled (and ultimately failed) to maintain the thread of that sci-fi novella, I had an idea for a fantasy novella that followed up on the aftermath of one of my fantasy manuscripts. I finally resolved to start drafting it about the middle of November, and the story just came pouring out at the keyboard. My average number of words per hour more than doubled for each writing session, which tells me that I was truly dialed into it. Even with the holidays, which can be murder on a writing schedule, I’m happy to say that I finished the initial draft at 11:30 p.m. on December 31. So, if I accomplished nothing else on the fiction side in 2024, I was able to begin and end this novella, which clocked in at just under 27,000 words. Of course, it’s a hot mess right now, but one of my projects for January will be getting it into a readable state for my beta readers.
The Road Ahead
Normally, this would be the section where I would outline my goals and projects for the new year, but I am at something of a loss for the moment. I’ve finished the wizard novella, and I’m now at loose ends, at least at the time of this writing. Until I know more about how this year will unfold, and the possible ramifications it will have on my family, it’s difficult to make any long-term plans at this moment in time.
I have that partially completed sci-fi novella I could try to finish, or I could revisit the cyberpunk novel I have about two-thirds complete (both have a special place in my heart, even if I had to put them down). Or, I could try something completely new. I haven’t decided yet, though short-to-medium fiction has its appeal since there’s less time involved per project, usually between a couple of weeks and a couple of months. I wish I had a definitive answer, but the road ahead right now is too foggy for me to see.
Rest assured I will land on something. I scarcely want to have another year creatively like 2024 if I can help it. If 2024 has taught me one thing, it’s that we’re here for a shorter time than we think. I feel that I have barely scratched the surface of the stories I want to tell. If I’m going to make an honest go of it before my time is up, I need to stay focused.
So, it is my hope that if I can turn my situation around, I’ll be able to open the State of the Sector 2026 Address with the words: What a difference a year makes.
Until then, I wish you all a new year filled with the realization of dreams and solid metaphorical (as well as literal) ground beneath your feet.
I mentally began the process of writing this blog in my living room when it was lit by just a fire in the fireplace and the lights of our Christmas tree. The combination of those two things turns what is an ordinary space that I see every day into a magical place, full of warmth and love and memory.
You see, there’s a poem in The Lord of the Rings that really resonates with me at this time of the year, especially as I get older. It’s the song that Bilbo sings to Frodo on the eve of the Fellowship leaving Rivendell: I Sit Beside the Fire and Think. Clamavi de Profundis (who I can’t say enough good things about) sang a version of this song as a farewell to Christopher Tolkien when he passed away a few years back. It’s well worth a listen, especially if you’d like to take the musical pulse of where I am I’m currently.
I’ve always thought of the holiday season as a time for self-reflection in addition to making merry. The world is dark and cold (or cold-er when it comes to Texas), the regular rules of work and life are temporarily suspended as we celebrate in defiance of winter. The New Year has not yet come. We don’t know what it has in store for us yet. We hope, we plan, and some make resolutions, but we don’t know how it will turn out. We sometimes wonder what our world will look like this time next year, though life is far too unpredictable for us to know for sure.
So, for my last blog post of 2024, I wanted to express some thoughts that have been rattling around in my head for a while now. I must warn you, however, if you were looking for a feel-good holiday post, this isn’t it. But, if you would like a glimpse into where I am right now emotionally and my state of mind, this is absolutely the post for you.
Still with me? Excellent — let’s get started.
The Year of Mourning
See, I warned you. This first one is a corker. While there were many bright spots to this year, including reconnecting in person with some old friends, making new connections, and getting to higher ground in numerous senses of the word, 2024 will be known to me as a year of loss. In 2024, I leave behind two pets, a cousin, my mentor, many of my illusions, and much of my faith in humanity.
Grief and pain have shadowed my steps for much of the year. I felt as though I had scarcely begun to deal with one crushing emotional blow when another would land. As I’ve said before, I obviously don’t have a monopoly on grief or pain. I know that this has been an incredibly difficult year for many people I know, and when you look at the wider world, it’s been one tragedy after another. So, I’m not trying to claim some special status for what I’m going through; I’m only trying to tell my little slice of the story.
At times like this, I had always looked forward to the New Year in the hope that it would be better. Unfortunately, that is not the case this time. While 2024 has been the Year of Mourning, 2025 is already the Year of Uncertainty.
But again, we make merry in defiance of the cold and dark. This year, I’m making merry in defiance of that uncertainty. It might turn out to be more in the style of an Irish wake, but if that’s the case, so be it.
Fellow-Passengers to the Grave
I recently had a discussion with some co-workers on our favorite Christmas movies. I may be in the minority, but I generally don’t have a single favorite anything. I have favorites, plural, but my tastes might change from day to day on my favorite song, TV show, movie, etc. Still, if I had to pick a lone favorite, it would almost certainly be A Muppet Christmas Carol.
While Dickens’ timeless tale has been retold countless times in various ways, we have an actor of the caliber of Michael Caine playing Ebeneezer Scrooge, and he plays the role absolutely straight. He speaks and reacts to all the Muppets around him as though they were fellow actors in the Royal Shakespearean Company, and it absolutely works. Watching it this year, as I do with pretty much all the classics, I was particularly moved by it.
Part of it is that A Christmas Carol did more in creating the holiday we know as Christmas than any other. Dickens practically redefined the holiday into what it is today through his prose. It’s one of the reasons why the Victorian era looms large when it comes to Christmas traditions, from Christmas trees (first introduced to England by Prince Albert) to carolers and even versions of what would become Santa Claus.
The other part of it is Gonzo’s delivery, in the guise of Dickens himself, of the famous line about “seeing other people as fellow-passengers to the grave.” Grief has a way of making you think of your own mortality. Sickness does as well, and how did yours truly start off his holiday break? By coming down with a particularly nasty case of strep throat, of course, which is only finally starting to subside. Strep can be fatal if left untreated, but thankfully it rarely is now with modern medicine. Plus, I got on it pretty early when it became clear that it wasn’t just seasonal allergies messing with me. I’ve been pretty lucky in that I don’t get seriously ill all that often.
If anything, this bout of illness has forced me to slow down and focus on my health more than I usually do. Thankfully, I have a decent break from work ahead of me to complete my recovery, but I missed a number of things in the meantime that I regret. Even still, I just crossed paths with a bacterial strain that might have ended my journey had I been born in another time, or even if the right medications were not readily available. That has a way of putting a lot of things into perspective.
What’s my takeaway from it? I’m grateful. Grateful for the fact that help and aid were available when I needed them, that I have the time and space to convalesce, but most importantly, I’m grateful for the people I have in my life. My family, my friends, my co-workers, my extended network — all of them. And if you’re reading this blog, dear reader, that now includes you. I’m grateful to be a passenger with you on this journey, even if we know that it will inevitably end.
The Pale Blue Dot
This month marks 28 years since America lost one of its greatest minds: Carl Sagan. I’m firmly convinced that if more of us could see the world in the way that he did, we would all be better off. Yet, a mind and a perspective like his are sadly rare. Though the man himself is gone, he left behind an incredible body of work, including his famous “Pale Blue Dot” speech.
If you’ve never heard it, I’ll link it here. It is, in my opinion, one of the most poignant speeches ever given. It puts things in perspective in a way that I’ve never encountered before or since. One of the lines that really speaks to me is this one: “Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.”
As I said earlier, I’ve lost much of my faith in humanity this year, and I’m not sure when, or even if, I will get that back. I hope I do, as I feel that I am a humanist at my core. The pronouncement that we, as a species, are in charge of saving ourselves, however, doesn’t sound all that comforting to me at the moment.
Deep in my geeky heart of hearts, I want humanity to achieve the kind of high-minded ideals that the Federation stands for in Star Trek. But I also realize that even in that continuity, humanity had to go through some pretty dark days before it finally got its act together and made the world a better place. Maybe that’s where we are now.
Maybe.
As he closes the speech, Sagan says, “To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.”
Strangely, this sentiment also echoes the long-held and oft-quoted Christmas sentiment of “peace on Earth and good will towards men.” Lately, it seems we’ve had a lack of both of those things. To my fellow Earthlings, let’s do something about that, okay?
Gandalf’s Wisdom
This year, I introduced my young son to the Peter Jackson Lord of the Rings films. While he struggled with sitting through 3+ hour movies, he did enjoy them. He felt the emotional highs and lows just as I did. While the entire cast is famously, almost absurdly, talented, I really have to hand it to Sir Ian McKellan in his role as Gandalf the Grey/White. He really delivers on one of my favorite fictional characters of all time.
Gandalf is one of the great mentor characters, up there with the best of the best, the likes of Merlin, Alpha Trion, Morpheus, and Obi-Wan Kenobi. As an immortal maiar, an angelic being, Gandalf has been around since before Middle-Earth existed. So, Gandalf is extremely old and wise. He’s also quick to give the protagonists under his care an inspiring quote just when they need it most.
Trust me when I say, that we all could use such a quote right about now to lift our spirits or show us the folly of our ways. But as Gandalf stubbornly stays in the realm of fiction, and most definitely not in the real world, we have to content ourselves with the various portrayals of him in the books and in adaptations of those books. I’m drawn to three quotes in particular. For LOTR fans, these may seem like low-hanging fruit, but they are three that live rent-free in my brain right now:
Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened. Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.
This one is pretty self-explanatory, and one of the most famous. The moment in the movie when Frodo stands on the banks of the Anduin, contemplating his plight, and he hears this quote again gets me every time.
Gandalf: Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo’s hand. Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends.
I think what calls to me about this quote stems from some of the deep-lore surrounding Gandalf himself. He was once a servant of Nienna, the Valar (one of the gods of Middle-Earth for those not familiar with the term) who understood sadness and grief in the most profound way. She mourned the destruction and sorrow that existed in the world, often before it had even happened. Because of this connection to grief, she was also a being who appreciated compassion and pity beyond all others. Gandalf is often cited as the wisest of the maiar. I suppose that is why I have always associated wisdom with compassion and empathy.
Gandalf: Saruman believes that only great power can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. I’ve found it is the small things — the everyday deeds of ordinary folk — that keeps the darkness at bay, simple acts of kindness and love. Why Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps it’s because I’m afraid, and he gives me courage.
To some degree, I feel this speaks to my relationship with my son. He’s a deep thinker, and feels all the doubts and apprehensions that this implies. But, ultimately, he is an optimist, and sometimes surprises me with his insight that seems far beyond his short years. Even though I can at times feel hopeless, he gives me the courage to keep going.
Final Thoughts
It’s been a rough year for me all right, personally, professionally, and creatively. I am not looking forward to writing the State of the Sector Address for this year, simply because I had so many misses and so little to show for the past twelve months.
Despite the somber tone of this blog post, I don’t want to end it on a down note, truly. So, how do I strike a delicate balance between a meaningful Christmas message and the not-so-holly-jolly state of mind that I’m in now? Simple, I’ll refer you to Loreena McKennitt’s A Midwinter Night’s Dream album. Her versions of some well-known Christmas classics are introspective, even a little melancholic, without being depressing or nihilistic. And that’s pretty much me right now.
In particular, I would recommend The Holly and the Ivy, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Emmanuel, and Snow, though there is not a bad track on the whole album. Even if Christmas is not your thing, or even part of your belief system, they are beautiful expressions of music that I highly recommend.
And that’s where I will leave things for 2024. It’s a year that I’m glad to leave behind, but one you can be damned sure I won’t ever forget. It has left its mark on me. But as my father is so fond of saying, “Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you really wanted.”
Despite my reticence to approach the State of the Sector Address this year, I will be moving forward with it, regardless. I know my delivery dates for blog posts have gotten a bit unpredictable of late, but my plan is to post it on the Friday of the first full week of January, so January 10. Watch for it then.
In the meantime, I wish all of you out there, along with your families and friends, a holiday season filled with light, joy, and hope.
[Note: I do not consider myself a movie critic. What follows is just one fanboy’s opinion based off of a single double viewing of the film. Oh, and there are SPOILERS ahead for this movie, so take heed.]
If you’ve followed this blog, you may have noticed that the Transformers franchise comes up quite a bit in my writing. It was certainly my favorite toy line growing up, and Optimus Prime may, in fact, be favorite fictional character of all time. I have no real love for the live-action Bayverse Transformers movies outside of Steve Jablonsky’s hauntingly beautiful musical scores and some fantastic voice acting. But, for the most part, I don’t care for them. Bumblebee is the sole exception. I had hoped that it would lead the way, but Rise of the Beasts showed me that the cinematic franchise on the whole had learned nothing from Travis Knight’s retro-themed movie outing.
So, it didn’t surprise me when I started hearing about Transformers One. Transformers as I knew it came from animation, and the franchise has been kept alive through the years through many different animated series. So, a CGI-animated take on the story adapted to the big screen felt inevitable, especially as Hasbro struggles to stay afloat.
First Impressions
I must admit that when I saw the first trailer for Transformers One, I was…skeptical. We were once again going back to the root causes of the war for Cybertron, and the growing divide between Autobot and Decepticon, which has been done over and over again. I was not particularly enthused about yet another reboot in what seems like a rapid-fire series of Transformers reboots by Hasbro in recent years.
The general vibe that the trailer gave off seemed like we would be in for a goofy, slap-stick adventure romp on Cybertron. Also, the fact that Peter Cullen and Frank Welker would not be reprising their iconic roles as Optimus Prime and Megatron was a big thumbs-down for me.
But, I could see that my young son was interested in going to see it, so I steeled myself and went into the theatres expecting a low-effort attempt at getting a younger generation to embrace a decades-old toy franchise.
As I sat there in my reclining seat, however, I quickly began to realize how wrong I was about, well, everything regarding this movie. The tone was very different than I had guessed, and for the better. More than that, this movie far surpassed my expectations and played into the meta-lore of the Transformers universe far more than I would have guessed.
What I liked
The MUSICAL SCORE: I know a movie score is good when I can’t wait to get home from the theatre and download it. I found, to my delight, that Brian Tyler had composed the score. That explained the sublime sense of mystery and awe that permeates the musical landscape of this movie. Tyler is one of my favorite of the “modern” crop of movie composers. He did the score for Iron Man 3, which is excellent. He also did the score for the Syfy mini-series version of Dune, which really elevated the drama. Oh, and he also did the theme for Transformers Prime, perhaps the best Transformers has ever sounded on the small screen.
Orion Pax and D-16: It was great to see the two of them as friends, even with the foreknowledge that they would eventually become the greatest of enemies. They did a good job of establishing their base personalities that contain the seeds of the conflict to come. Orion Pax doesn’t mind breaking rules that he sees are unjust or in the service of uncovering the truth. He sees the potential in his fellow miners and wants to become more than what they current are. D-16, on the other hand, prefers to follow the rules to the letter, to stick to established protocols. When it is ultimately revealed that the rules he’s been so strictly adhering to are a lie, he is crushed, resulting in him becoming angry and vengeful.
In days of long ago…
The animation and models: CGI-based storytelling has come a long way, and the Transformers franchise has upped its game from the days of the original Beast Wars. I was surprised at just how beautiful and natural some of the animation was in this movie, even when it’s applied to anthropomorphic robots that turn into vehicles. I was also impressed with just how emotive and expressive the four primary characters were on screen.
Megatron’s eyes: I picked up on this little gem on my first viewing of the movie. A good indicator of the story’s escalation is found in the color of Megatron’s eyes. They start out a bright yellow, but as things are revealed and the road he is on darkens, his eyes begin to turn more of an orange color. I predicted that they would turn red at a critical moment, and sure enough, I was right. It was a subtle touch that really gives you that dividing line between D-16 as we knew him and his new persona as Megatron — who then goes on to name his faction after the great deception that he had a hand in destroying.
Two leadership styles: Once Orion and D-16 come back from the wilds, but before they take their iconic names, you can see how they both lead their respective groups effectively. Orion Pax is an inspirational figure, who leads from the front, and is excellent at making those around him believe they are capable of greater things than they ever thought possible. By contrast, D-16 is all about showing strength through acts of force, which appeals to the dangerous, more military sensibilities of the High Guard. When D-16 is captured by Sentinel Prime, the ex-miner would rather die on his feet than grovel on his knees. Even when he gets knocked down, he stands back up with even more defiance.
A satisfying story: In a feature-length movie, character arcs have to move fast, faster than they would in a series format. Still, Transformers One clocks in at a respectable 104 minutes, which isn’t bad for an animated show. I think that the story moves along pretty quickly but pauses in places for some great character development and worldbuilding. By the end of it, it feels like the characters have been on an era-defining adventure that nicely sets up the ongoing conflict in the Cybertronian war to come. After having seen this material retreaded upon again and again, this take felt fresh and just sort of ‘right’ for the continuity that they had set up.
What I DIDN’T Like
Lack of original voice actors: I think that Brian Tyree Henry and Chris Hemsworth did admirable jobs as the voice actors for Megatron and Optimus Prime, respectively. I don’t want to disparage their performance as I think it was excellent. The issue is that Peter Cullen and Frank Welker sort of “own” their Transformers personas in a way we don’t see very often. Their voices give Megs and Op a kind of genuine spark (full pun intended) to the characters that’s really irreplaceable. I think it was a missed opportunity to include them in this project. Can you imagine Orion coming back from the planet’s core with the Matrix, now with Peter Cullen’s iconic voice style? Or, when Megatron proclaims “I’m done saving you,” having Frank Welker’s voice take over for the remainder?
Human characteristics on robots: At one point, we see Orion’s lips flapping in the wind as the train speeds up. Later on when they are avoiding the Quintessons in the ruins, we seem Orion look like he’s breathing hard. This is such a minor thing, but these very human traits looked completely out of place on a character model who is a robot. It took me out of the moment when it happened.
Despite where this image falls in the blog, I loved this scene.
The death of Alpha Trion: Alpha Trion is the archetypical mentor character in Transformers, effectively Merlin to Optimus Prime’s King Arthur. While Alpha Trion got to take out some random goons with the cheeky retort of “Not too old for you,” he basically was just there to deliver some exposition and be executed at the hands of Sentinel. If we get a sequel they could always bring him back somehow, but the total amount of time he got to spend with Orion Pax here is measured in a matter of moments. I had hoped to see a father-son relationship develop between them.
The lingering odor of the Bayverse: There are a few points where I could tell that the story still had some of the greasy little fingerprints of Michael Bay left over from the live action movies. Sentinel Prime being an outright villain and tyrant (rather than just a bully and an a-hole in Transformers: Animated) feels like it took some cues from Dark of the Moon. Bumblebee being named B-127 calls back to a Bayverse Bee before he got his Earth name. Also that there are (or were) multiple Primes at once rather than it being a succession of one at a time through stewardship of the Matrix of Leadership. It seems we cannot quite escape the Bayverse here, though to be fair, there were plenty more G1 nods.
Conclusions
The G1 continuity will always be my favorite telling of the Transformers story. In my heart of hearts, the origins of Orion Pax’s transformation into Optimus Prime can be found in episode #59 of the Sunbow cartoon titled “War Dawn.” Unfortunately, aside from the video game Transfomers: Devastation and a select few comic books, we aren’t getting any more narrative continuations of that version of Transformers.
That said, I realize that Transformers fans my son’s age want something new, something more updated to appeal to them. Some of Hasbro’s attempts to provide this in recent years, such as War for Cybertron, Robots in Disguise, and Earthspark have seemed half-hearted and disposable. Transformers One, however, felt like an honest attempt to bring Transformers forward to a more modern viewership. There’s a real heart to this movie that many other recent versions of Transformers have just sort of lacked. I was surprised just how much I enjoyed the experience — on both occasions.
And, you know, if the continuity of this movie becomes the basis for the Transformers milieu of my son’s generation, I’m more than okay with it. It remains to be seen if we get more from this branch of the Transformers universe, however. As enjoyable as I found this movie, and with it receiving some decent reviews from critics, it unfortunately didn’t do as well as expected. I do hope this isn’t the last we see of the Transformers One crew. I wish them many more heroic adventures to come. So, from me to the cast and crew of this movie, let me simply say: ‘Til all are one!
If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you likely know that museums are one of my passions. I regularly travel to museums across the U.S. with my family. Well, a new exhibit just opened a few weeks ago at The Perot Museum of Science and Nature in Downtown Dallas, Texas, called Topaz: A Spectrum in Stone. The reason I’m writing about it today is two-fold: First, it’s really cool, and the Perot has a stunning Gem & Mineral Hall; and two, I was a writer on this exhibit. (I even gave the exhibit its name.)
This is not the first exhibit I’ve worked on for the Perot (and I hope it will not be the last), but it is the first one I’m writing about on this blog. In fact, Topaz: A Spectrum in Stone replaced a mineralogy exhibit that I had previously worked on a few years back. As the name implies, it’s all about topaz.
I knew only a few passing details about these stones before I started, but learning about new things is part of why working for a museum is such a wonderful experience. For instance, I now know that red-orange topaz are the rarest of the rare in the world. Why, you ask? It’s because of the presence of chromium during the stone’s formation.
Along those lines, topaz are naturally colorless. If they have a color at all, it can be due to the presence of radiation or heat. In fact, you can artificially make a topaz blue by exposing it to further radiation and heat. Conversely, sunlight and UV radiation in general can actually leech the color back out of it.
Indeed.
The topaz displayed in this exhibit are some of the most well-known specimens in the world. Here a few of the stars of the show:
Remember all that stuff about chromium above? Well, this topaz is one of the best examples of a fiery red-orange color. It was mined in Brazil and cut to have a stylized flame pattern along its surface. The Imperial Flame topaz is one of the best examples of this rarest-of-the-rare topaz in the world.
Another one from Brazil, this topaz is largely clear, but has a yellow-green tint to it. It has an eye-shaped cut, but here’s the kicker: This topaz is over 9,600 carats! (Yes, Vegeta, over 9,000.) It’s so gigantic that at first glance it looks like a fancy paperweight, but this stone is the real deal. Keep in mind that this gem is this large even after it’s been cut. Just imagine how big it must’ve been coming out of the ground.
The Texas Bluebonnet
My close-up shot of the actual stone came out blurry. Consequently, this is not the Texas Bluebonnet, but this shows you the approximate color and cut of the actual stone.
Another fun fact: Texas is the only state with its own official gem cut — the Lone Star cut, which forms a five-pointed star in the middle of the gem. Also, blue topaz is the Texas state gemstone. So, if there was one topaz that embodies both the pale blue color of Texas topaz (found exclusively in Mason County), and the Lone Star cut, it’s this 234-carat topaz.
This is just to name a few. The exhibit also includes several bicolor topaz from the Volyn deposit in Ukraine, some other imperial topaz that are more of an amber yellow, and several large, uncut topaz that are stunning in their colors and/or size. One of them even looks like it’s a piece of ice from right off the side of an iceberg. Trust me when I say that photos don’t do them justice. Like, at all.
I’ve been to a fair few natural history museums in my time, but the Gem & Mineral Hall at the Perot remains my favorite, and not just because I’ve worked on exhibits there. The specimens they have there, such as the famed Eyes of Africa, the largest intact stibnite crystal ever found, and a person-sized purple geode, all come together to really show us the breathtaking beauty that our planet has to offer.
In closing, if you are in the Downtown Dallas area, I highly recommend giving the Perot a visit. There’s so much to see and explore, so make a day of it. From dinosaur fossils to space exploration, and many points in-between, The Perot Museum of Science and Nature is an experience quite unlike any other.
The Sector M 