Monday, March 22, 2010

Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter -- Putting Vampires in Their Place

WARINING: POTENTIAL SPOILERS!

June 25 1828 -- So long as this country is cursed with slavery, so too will it be cursed with vampires.

Thus reads one line from one of Abraham Lincoln's supposedly secret journals. For Abraham Lincoln is a vampire hunter.

At least, he is in the novel Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter by Seth Grahame-Smith. It is a novel I find very hard to put down. It is a breath of fresh air from what vampires have become in our contemporary popular culture.

What has become of the vampire?

Deconstruction has made us view old things in new ways, but it has also made us question, even go against, the very truth of absolute good and evil so much so that everything is now blurred.

Such is what happened with vampires.

Up to the mid-twentieth century, vampires are considered evil, spawns of "an evil alchemy of the blood." The very concept of creatures feeding exclusively on blood is abominable biblically speaking (See Genesis 9:6; Leviticus 17:14; Deuteronomy 12:23. I'm guessing this is the basis for Bram Stoker's concept of "Dracula."). Then there came those who, bored by the status quo and enamored by the dark and seductive beauty of such gothic creatures, embraced a more gothic and vampiric lifestyle.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

A review of the Macross VF1-S Battroid I got free from Jollibee

I was walking down EDSA near Boni Avenue when I saw the banner on Jollibee that made my heart skip a beat: Macross toys free with every Jollibee Kids Meal!

At first I was hesitant. Kids Meal toys ware rarely of good quality play-wise and durability-wise. The Voltron torso and legs that I got are testament to that. Still, I did text my buddies about it and the reaction was unanimous: they want them! I eventually warmed up to the idea so my friend Nix (with the blessing of his wife) and I decided to go out during our afternoon break to get them toys.

Fast forward to 1515 hours. As a gesture of good will, and since they were planning to order anyway, I asked my other colleagues if they wanted anything from Jollibee. They gave their orders and I ended up doing a mini workout carrying bags of food and drinks and toys. Here's an idea of what they ordered:

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The things I do for toys. It's almost insane.

Anyway, I did manage to get me a VF1-S Battroid. As expected, it wasn't transformable. Here's a pic of it in the bag:

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Taking it out of the bag, the VF1-S comes with 3 accessories: the rifle cannon, a booster, and a booster with twin cannons


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Put them all together, it does make a pretty picture, even with limited articulation.

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It's slightly taller than a GI Joe, maybe 3.80 inches.

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By the way, the cannon features a trigger that makes a small yellow thing pop out of the barrel ever so slightly to simulate firing energy blasts according to the plastic package. I tried it and what I think it simulates I cannot say here as there may be kids reading this.

Overall, I think it's an ok toy, more suited for guys like me who grew up with this stuff. (First Transformers, then Voltron, now Macross. What's next, Voltes V?)I'm sure by now you will find this toy on display on some office desks, most likely occupied by 20- to 30-something guys and gals who aren't afraid to show off their geek side.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Rescue at Wardoff Manor 1

(Here's the first of the Tales of the Second Blood War. It's a work in progress so please bear with me.)

“Very well, I shall pay you 25 ductis a night if you would sing and tell stories to my patrons as they dine here.” the gruff orc said in his guttural voice to the olive-skinned woman seated across the table from him. The woman nodded and smiled. “You are most gracious Master Ebon. I will do my best to keep your patrons happy.” she said.

Ebon the orc stood up and raised his right fist to his left chest, saying, “Then I welcome you, Lady Anya, to the Red Hare Tavern and Inn. May your song bring gladness to us in these troublesome times.”

Anya stood and answered the orc with the same Gromon salute-greeting. “I thank you, Master Ebon for your accommodation and your employment. Be assured that I will do my best to entertain your guests and ease their burdens.”

Ebon called to the boy cleaning a nearby table, “Karl! Please show our new bard to her room and make sure she’s comfortable.” Karl left his cleaning rag and walked over to Anya as she picked up her lute and a sack containing her belongings. Anya followed Karl through the musty corridors, thinking that she’s been in better places, not to mention better paid. But ever since the Asperian invasion — the attack of “the demons from the western sea” because Asperians are a vampire-like race — and the occupation of the islands of Margon and Seleniel, as well as the city state of Sorma, the land of Pentapotamo was plunged into war. Nobles have been called to command armies or have begun to barricade themselves, so bards no longer find themselves called upon to entertain in the halls of the rich and aristocratic humans and the gnomes. The elves have their own music and the orcs have little use for such things, and none of the four races found need for tales and music at a time like this. The bards now have to walk the roads to tell stories and sing in whatever tavern, inn or eating place they can find that is still standing, if they are to have coin to eat and live.

Karl opened a door and let Anya in, handing her the iron key to her room. Anya looked at the key, recognizing the short, serrated-blade design as gnomish, specifically Kodayni. Old design, but still useful, and far better than anything the human smiths of city states of Sorma, Hanathai, or Margon ever came up with. Having spent some time with the gnomes of Kodayn, Anya was familiar with the Kodayni gadgets and devices, and how jealously protective Kodayni gnomes can get with them. Thus, only devices that are at least ten years old are sold outside of Kodayn, and usually at exorbitant prices. So this inn is not so shabby after all, thought Anya, to be able to afford Kodayni locks for its doors. Anya lay on the bed and began thinking of what she would play for the patrons that night. . .

* * * * *

“Sing for us, bard! Sing of the good old times, when life was peaceful!”

Anya wryly smiled. She expected as much from Ebon’s patrons, mostly refugees fleeing from Asperian-occupied Sorma. From her travels that crisscross the Nine Cities, she knew that such “good old times” never existed as there always were small wars between the Cities over land, trade, and ancient grudges about who stole whose sheep or wife among the various nobles and whose breakaway kin was protected by whose city. But then, these were conflicts of the artistocrats that rarely affect the peasantry. But the Asperian invasion, now dubbed as the Second Blood War, affected noble and peasant alike. The vampiric fangs of the Asperians make no distinction between noble and peasant blood, both are food to them.

Anya thought of the vampyr invaders, then of the refugees fleeing them that are now before her, and began to sing.