The Dragon Prince

I have been watching some kids' shows (which is something that I get to do quite often given my occupation).  I thought I would give some of them some reviews.  My qualifications?  I'm a writer.  And as such, I will judge them on their writing, and possibly a bit on their acting.  And perhaps my poor opinion on their art.


So here it goes.

Netflix's The Dragon Prince
(with very mild spoilers)


I was pleasantly surprised.  You might look at this and see its animation as modern-day rotoscoping, but to be honest it works.  And as such, I expected it at first to be nothing more than a simply fantasy with dragons and elves.

But it is so much more.

First, the writing is truly exemplary.  The villains are good people in their own eyes, as they should be, and it is more than possible to see their points of view.  Some are even capable of heroic acts.  But they are capable to truly villainous acts that you wouldn't normally see in a kids' show.  The heroes are also flawed, but in very human ways.  However, it's the ways in which the characters are strong, and represented, that make this show extraordinary.

Like Avatar: The Last Airbender, and The Legend of Korra, The Dragon Prince pushes the boundaries of what is allowed in childrens' programming.  We start out with an interracial royal family, nothing too major... only to fid that the king's sister-in-law is deaf.  Yet, despite being deaf, she is strong.  She's a general who takes on foes even when she is at a disadvantage, because it is the right thing to do.  We have Queen Sarai, the closest advisor to her husband and a warrior like her sister, but who stands up against her husband when it is the right thing to do - and then supports him even when she disagrees with him.  Then, there are the two queens of the neighboring kingdom who are in love and even share a kiss on-screen.

The show deals with some heavy issues as well.  Sacrifice, the loss of loved ones, betrayal and redemption, trust, loyalty, truth, broken families, love.  Actions have real consequences, something rarely seen in a show for kids.  Halfway through Season 2, one of the characters gets paralyzed.  The characters almost all have to deal with real grief, and they do it in realistic ways.

Beyond that, the writing deals with the fae in ways that you usually only hear about when reading stories as an adult.  I am truly impressed at the research and ingenuity.  Magic is not just something that you do - there is sacrifice.  I do not wish to go into details, as I do not wish to post any real spoilers, but I am simply in love with how they write the elves. Especially Aaravos.  And I really like Rayla.  She's the sort of hero that is perfect for the story and for today.

It also is funny, not just to kids but to adults.  It makes modern references for the sake of jokes, but not enough to bring you out of the story.  It can make fun of itself, as well as you, the audience, without being insulting.  The epitome of this is "human Rayla" where she pretends to be a human and in doing so points out all the ridiculous things that we do.  As Ezran puts it, I am a big fan of human Rayla.

A little on the animation and acting.  They really are both good.  The animation is different, but it's not bad.  The characters have incredible expressions.  The magic is awesome.  The character design is wonderful.  And the voice acting is wonderful.

So, in short, I highly recommend watching this show, even if you don't have kids.

Age after Age

Yes yes, I'm still alive and all that jazz.
And I'm sure I've lost all my readership.

I've been trying to write, but it has been a slow thing.  I don't want to make excuses.  Suffice it to say, getting overwhelmed with work is a vicious circle.
I plan on getting back into the grind of things this week.

So I thought I would make this post today to bring to light some news on one of the passions my wife and I share - the environment.
Call me a tree hugger if that's what floats your boat, but in this day and age, it would be remiss of you to ignore the overwhelming evidence that the environment is changing, and we are the cause.

But this post isn't about trying to convince you that the environment is changing.  If you want to argue it, I point you to this resource.  Just look up whatever argument you have, and see how it has been thoroughly and completely debunked by actual science.

No, the point of this post is actually names.  In particularly, the name of the age.
Some of you might know that Mesozoic Era, that of the dinosaurs (another subject I am very passionate about), consisted of the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous Periods (which are also split into numerous stages).  A few of you might know that after the Mesozoic came the Cenozoic, the current era, and that we are currently in the Quaternary Period.  But, as I said earlier, these periods are broken into small stages, or "epochs."  A very select few of you may say that we are currently in the Holocene Epoch, or even the smaller subdivision of the Meghalayan Age (did I mention I'm a nerd?). If you are one of those people, I commend you!

But you might be wrong.

The scientific community is currently debating on the first change of epochs since, well, science.  From what I can tell, the only thing stopping them is determining the exact year of the change, which is currently likely to be somewhere between 1945 and 1964.  That means a good portion of you may have been born in a different age and epoch, as we may now be in the Anthropocene Epoch and the Homogenocene Age (though I may be wrong about that second one).

Why this change?  Anthropos is Greek for "man."  This is the Epoch where man has changed the environment to the point where every part of it has been influenced by our actions.  Since the mid-twentieth century, more than half of all wildlife on the planet has died, and 90% of all large fish have died.  The cause?  Pollution, climate change, and over-hunting.  We, humans, have affected the Earth so much that we now have an Epoch.  Most of these epochs are marked by extinctions, and this one is no different.  We are, indeed, in the middle of the 6th major extinction-event of the planet, and we are the cause of it.  If we aren't careful, we'll be marking the end of the Cenozoic as well, but let's hope it doesn't get that bad.

Which leads me to a final point.  There is another "age" we are in, supposedly.  We live in the "Information Age."  This is a 20th and 21st century historic age defined by a rapid shift from an economy based on industry to one based on information (computers and the like).  At this point, I'm sure I've bored you and you've moved on, so now I can get to the real point of this blog post - a secret letter to my wife.

The macarons are good.  Take some with you to work.

Now, back to the blog post, just in case someone really was paying attention.

I propose that we have left the Information Age, as of 2016.  I propose that we are entering the Misinformation Age - an age where truth has become harder and harder to determine, where news is formed by lies and social media, where governments make entire entities dedicated to influencing people through fake news and propaganda (such as the Russian-based Internet Research Agency).
There is a new Artificial Intelligence software that has been implemented to write simple news stories with language that makes it indistinguishable from human writing.  I worry about this because I am trying to make it as a writer, and I don't want some computer muscling me out of the market.  Experts worry about this, because it could be used to flood the internet, and even news shows, with entirely made up news that would be almost indistinguishable from real news - lies that you couldn't tell were lies.  This could topple governments.  For now they are trying to keep this AI under guard.

The problem is, history tells us that attempts to prevent progress always fail.  It will happen.  Combine this with the increasing levels of complexity in photo- and video-manipulation, with the computer programs that can put any words you like into anyone else's mouth (yes, these are real), and I fear for the future.  We know there are agents out there whose sole purpose is to sew discord, to fan the fires on both sides of any argument they can.  This sort of thing should scare all of us.  And it both follows the model of Orwell's classic 1984 as well as puts it to shame.

The victor may write history, but the anarchist writes the future.

One more day

My wife has been out of town for 3 of the last 4 weeks.  She gets back tonight.

Today, as I'm sitting down to look at a recipe for dinner, my daughter comes in carrying a *mostly* empty pouch of berry applesauce.

"Dad, I'm sorry, I did this," she says and waves the pouch around in a large arc, "and made a mess."

As the pouch is waved in an arc, physics takes over and drops of red, staining sauce spray all over the white carpet I just spent hours cleaning a couple of days before.

5 hours, 42 minutes, 37 seconds to go....

A night in the life...

10:30 pm

My wife is out of town.  She's been out of town for days.  Most of the month, in fact.  I am home alone with the kids and somehow have managed to feed them and clean up a bit. But I am not getting enough sleep, so I decide to go to bed early (for me).  No writing this time.

11:30 pm

There is a loud thump that sounds suspiciously-but-not-quite like someone opening the door to our deck. It is followed ten seconds later by another.

I am frozen.  Sleep is replaced by fear.  I become a statue, silent, listening for any sound.  Is that a footstep or a cat?  One of the cats is busy eating a few feet from me so I cannot really listen all that well.

Ten minutes pass before I grab my flashlight and turn on the outside lights.

Ten more minutes pass before I actually get the courage to crawl out of bed and have a look-see.

Ten MORE minutes are spent searching with flashlight/nightstick in one hand and the other trying to keep the phone from sleeping so I can dial that last "1" in "9-1-1-" and press send at a moment's notice.

Eventually the culprit is discovered.  The neighborhood stray has been tormenting one of my cats (by simply existing within eyeshot of her) and said cat had decided to jump up and down against the window in an effort to mutilate her rival.

Ugh.  By the time I get back upstairs, lights off, adrenaline gone, it is 12:45.

6:30 am

Alarm goes off. I reluctantly get out of bed. Almost 6 hours of sleep three nights in a row is taking its toll.  I sneak to Sam's room to shut the door so Addy doesn't wake him.

6:32 am

Sam is awake.  I have to go to the bathroom, I can't deal with him crying right now so I cave and give him a pacifier - hopefully for the last time ever.  I make it to the bathroom only to discover that it was not a simple stomach ache; something I ate did not agree with me at all.  Hmmm... could it be the mac and cheese? Or the baked fish...

6:42 am

Addy's alarm goes off.

6:50 am

Addy is going to the bathroom, which is right outside Sam's room.  She decided to have a good, loud laugh with him.

7:00 am

Addy checks in on me, still on the toilet.

7:05 am

I am finally done, but now I don't have time to make Addy lunch.  She'll have to buy again.  Somehow, miraculously, I manage to get her stuff signed, get her breakfast, not wake Sam for the third time, and get her out the door by

7:20 am

Now I get to try to figure out if less than 6 hours of sleep is enough to function on.

stupid cat.

How not to be distracted

Wife sits down after putting the little one to bed and gets out her laptop to work on something important.

I turn off The Office so as not to distract her.

Several minutes pass.  "Dear," wife says, "let's put something on.  We don't have to sit in silence."

"Alright," say I.  I proceed to turn on Netflix's newest sci-fi, Lost in Space.  Wife does not like sci-fis. I figure we are safe.

We are not safe.

Netflix did a good job and wife is watching Lost in Space.

"Dear," wife says, "this is too distracting.  Put something less distracting on."

"Alright," say I.  I turn off Lost in Space and start scrolling through the vast library of things Netflix has to offer.  My list.  Action.  Comedy.  Action.  Action.  Comedy.  Intriguing Documentary.  Action.  Action comedy.  Time to look elsewhere.

"Dear," wife says.  "Why not try a nature documentary?"

"Alright," say I.  Perfect idea.  A dry British man droning on about fish.  Even when you're watching it you're not really watching it.  I go to nature documentaries and pick the first one.  Round Planet.  I figure we are safe.

We are not safe.

"The mother Polar Bear gives her cubs a taste of what nature has to offer by repeatedly biting them on the bum...  You just want to cuddle them don't you?  But you better not, or their mother will tear you open and spread your innards over the snow like water paints..."

What the hell did I turn on?

"Dear," my wife laughs.  She cannot say anything else over the giggles.

Alright," say I and quickly turn to something with David Attenborough.  We are finally safe.

British documentaries.  You never know.

Spencer's Money-Saving Tips for New Parents

So, you are thinking of having a kid.  In THIS economy!?  Then here are some money-saving tips from a stay-at-home dad that can make having kids affordable no matter your income!


1) When you order things, do it in bulk.  But make it count.  Don't just buy 100 diapers.  Buy 10,000!  This saves money and time.  Plus, if you do it online, you'll be left with boxes that can be used later!

2) Kids grow out of clothes very fast.  So hit those thrift stores, consignment sales, and the trash bins behind department stores!  When your kid outgrows a pair, don't give it away or sell it.  Cut up the ones you don't like into strips and sew them onto the legs and arms of the clothing you do like.  Make those clothes last as long as possible!

3) One of the biggest expenses when it comes to children is diapers.  They also are not very environmentally friendly. It doesn't matter if you go cloth or disposable, either.  On the one hand, cloth diapers cost a lot up front and use a lot of water, while on the other hand, disposable diapers are a constant purchase and ends up rotting in a landfill.  So save both money and the environment by using packaging material from your bulk purchases!  Packing paper surrounded by bubble wrap works wonders!  And if that fails, use puppy pads!  They can be placed anywhere and cost a lot less than diapers.

4) Bubble wrap also doubles as helmets, knee pads, and pillows!

5) Not only do kids outgrow their clothing, but they also outgrow their beds.  Remember those bulk boxes?  cut a few holes in the sides and they can be used as cribs and play pens.

6) Car Seats are expensive.  Duct tape is not.

7) Instead of buying baby gates to keep your little ones out of places they're not allowed to be in, simply erect monstrous totems made of broken toys, homework assignments, vegetables, and your abandoned dreams.  Not only will these effigies keep baby from wandering too far, but it will crush baby's spirit for years to come!

8) Babysitters are entirely unnecessary.  Instead, just give your baby a copy of Monopoly and she'll entertain herself for hours!  If you simply must have someone watch your child, burn one of your totems to summon Babeometh, the dark god of watching.

9) Baby food is expensive.  You can simply put your own meal in the blender to make a baby-safe meal for your little one.  And if you want to save more money, go dumpster diving behind the grocery store.  Baby has to build up his immune system somehow!

10) Coupons!

I hope these money-saving tips serve you well, but the most important one is to use your common sense and don't actually follow any of these tips.
I mean, who has time for cutting coupons?

Recurrence

This is a piece I wrote to practice some thoughts on a novel I am writing.  I will be reading it at a local Write Night later this month.  It is based on a true story about my older sister who died of cancer when she was a child.  Warning, it is a sad tale.

            “Are you warm enough?” I asked Lilly as the gravel crunched under our feet.  Her soft, panting breath hung in the air like a fog.  It was colder than we were used to in southern California.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.  I didn’t have a coat to give her to stop her shivering, so I made sure she wore lots of layers, including my old flannel shirt.  It still didn’t stop her shivering. 

“Do you want me to carry you?”

She glanced at me, but that pout she was so good at wasn’t there.  “I’m eight,” was all she said.

I kept walking, but her footsteps stopped.  “Lilly?  What’s wrong?”

She was holding her midsection, her head down.  Although bangs covered her face, I knew she was crying.

“I don’t… want to go in there.”

My blood froze solid where I stood.  I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t think.  “I know it’s hard,” I eventually said.  “We can make an appointment for next week.”

“I DON’T WANT TO GO IN THERE!” she screamed with a strength I haven’t seen from her in years.  The last time she made a noise like that the doctors were pushing a needle into her spine for testing.  Then, as now, I turned white.

“Dear, it’s okay.  I won’t make you,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I knelt down before her.  She was nearly as pale as I was.  “But we need to stay strong.  When we go back to the hospital, I’ll ask if there’s any new procedures or something less-“

“No daddy.”  She leaned into me, sobbing, arms around my neck.  “I’m done.”  I don’t know how long I just held her as she trembled against me.  When her sobbing finally settled down, I wiped away her tears.

“You know what this means?” I whispered.  Any more than a whisper and she would be able to hear my heart breaking.

She nodded to me.  I picked her up and carried her back to the car.  She was lighter than I remembered, but the burden I bore had never been greater.

That was the last time I saw Lilly cry.  To this day I don’t know if those tears were the last remnants of hope flowing out of her or if she had simply come to peace with her fate.  I left that flannel shirt folded up on her grave in case she needed it and because it only reminded me of the day I saw my daughter lose the fight.

Magic and Innocence

Every good Christian knows the story of the Nativity.  It starts with Mary being visited by the archangel Gabriel (a feast we celebrate way back on March 25^th called The Annunciation) and ends with the Adoration of the Magi on Epiphany (January 6th).  Just how much do we know about these Magi?  There are numerous traditions, but strictly speaking the Bible only mentions them in one chapter, Matthew 2.  It does not mention where they were from, how many of them there were, or what happened to them after escaping King Herod, though it does support the idea that they arrived when Jesus was 2 years old. Tradition fills in the other details.

The term “magi” comes from the Greek word μάγος which means “magician” but was also the term used for Zoroastrian priests, who were renown for their study of the stars.  Western tradition gives them names: Caspar, an Indian who offered frankincense; Melchior, a Persian and the eldest of the group who brought gold; and Balthazar, the Arab who brought myrrh.  The three gifts also have meaning, with gold representing Christ the King, frankincense representing Christ the Divine, and myrrh representing Christ the Man.  Of course, why stop at only three magi?  The Eastern Orthodox church includes twelve!

These details and others aside, the Feast of Epiphany celebrates the revelation of Jesus as God, as shown at the visitation of the Magi, as well as at the Baptism of Jesus and his first miracle at the wedding of Cana.  But back in Jesus’ time, this was not a time for celebration or reflection.  After the magi left Bethlehem by a different route, an angel told Mary and Joseph to flee to Egypt.  When Herod realized the magi would not be returning to tell him where to find the infant king, he slew all the boys in and around Bethlehem that were 2-years-old and under.  It wasn’t until Herod died that the holy family returned.  This part of the Nativity narrative is too often left out, but remains a haunting melody in Coventry Carol, a lullaby to the innocents slain.

Though the wise men could see that Herod’s intentions were evil, I do not think that they suspected just how far he would go to kill a potential rival, even a child.  It is a sobering reminder that even our best plans can have unintended consequences for others.

How to Dress an 18-month Old

Step 1: Undress your child.

      This will usually involve discovering that your child is a contortionist who can tie himself into knots.

Step 2: Pull the pacifier from his hand.

      It will not fit through the sleeve of his shirts.  Warning, he has the grip of a lumberjack.

Step 3: Grab the clothes.

Step 4: Realize that none of his clothes still fit him.

Step 5: Search his closet for more clothes.

       As you do this, attempt to hold your child.  When that fails, you have exactly 0.325 seconds before he has discovered a stash of 18 pacifiers and other toys, which he will now hold in one hand.

Step 6: Find the only items of clothing that still fit him.

       They will not match.  They will be ugly.  You will have never seen these items of clothing before.  Scientists are still trying to determine where these clothes come from.

Step 7: Find your child

Step 8: Wrestle your naked child to the ground and try to put his shirt on.

       This will fail.

Step 9: Attempt to remove all 18 toys and pacifiers from your child's bear-like grip.

Step 10: Put your child's shirt on.

       At this point he will become a limp noodle with epilepsy.  I recommend growing a second set of arms.

Step 11: Curse whatever dark god decided to put actual buttons on a shirt for an 18-month old.

Step 12: Grab some duct tape.  It will make putting the shirt on much easier.

Step 13: Repeat steps 7 through 10.

Step 14: After duct taping the shirt on, put your hand through the leg hole in your child's pants (starting at the bottom), then hold your child by one leg as he twists like a kite in the wind and pull the pants up his leg.

Step 15: Attempt to do the same thing to the other leg.

Step 16: After he kicks off the first pant leg, repeat steps 14 and 15 ad nauseam.

Step 17: Realize you forgot to grab socks.

Step 18: Thank the stars that your child somehow still fits into the 0-6 month socks.

Step 19: Repeat step 7.

Step 20: By now you are a master of putting on clothing.  Use that magic to make the socks materialize on your child's feet.

Congratulations!  You have successfully put clothes on your 18-month old!  If they're on backwards, no one will notice.

Tip: Change his diaper first.  I hope you read this before attempting to change his clothes.

Eternal waking

My brain is a jerk.

A few nights ago, while my wife was away, I was stuck at home watching the kids.  I had put them both to bed, and stayed up a bit too late watching science videos on youtube.  I went to bed myself, but I felt guilty. I had yelled at my daughter earlier that day... and I am pretty certain my brain decided to punish me for it.

I dreamed that Addy woke me up because she was afraid there were intruders in the house.  I was simply beyond "tired" and had difficulty getting out of bed at all.  I went to check and could see out the window that there was a dog out there... and a bunch of people doing something to it.  Then I woke up, because Addy was calling for me.  I shrugged it off as a strange dream and crawled out of bed - still lethargic from lack of sleep - to see what was wrong.

Then I woke up.  Addy was in my room saying she had a nightmare.

Then I woke up.  Every time it was another excuse.  Monsters, fire, whatever.  It felt like I was Alex in Neil Gaiman's Sandman comic.  I lost track of how many times I "woke up."  Eventually I started to just shake my head when I woke, as if doing so could throw the dream, and its accompanying lethargy, from my head. And every time it felt REAL.  Perhaps I really was shaking my head in reality but never waking?  Or maybe I was waking, but falling back asleep.  Each time I woke, I was in the same position on my side.

When I woke for the last time, I was lying on my side staring at something that looked unnatural in my bathroom - a tall, pulsating, white, shapeless mass. But I could only hear the echoed memories of Addy; she was nowhere to be seen.  I must have stared at that thing in my bathroom for a full 5 minutes before I realized it was a shower curtain, and it was only my mind that made it look like it was moving.  I had really woken up and instantly ran to check on the sleeping kids... and out the window to make sure no one was there.

I have no concept of what time it was, and I forgot to check.  I don't know how long I slept... or if I really slept at all.  All I do know is that I am still ridiculously tired and my brain is still a grade A jerk.