Gliese 581g

Just 20 light years away, there's a planet that might sustain life. It's called Gliese 581g, and scientists say that it orbits in the so-called "goldilocks zone," the range of distance from a star that's neither too hot nor too cold for liquid water and thus, the possibility of life.

There are a few caveats. Apparently the planet is tidally locked, with one side forever facing its star, the other eternally turned away, making one side very hot and the other very cold. But at the terminator between light and darkness, milder temperatures could allow for the evolution of extraterrestrial life.

News like this makes me so grateful to be living in this era of exploration and discovery. Just imagine what we'll learn fifty years from now, when telescopes and other observation instruments are even more powerful, when probes can fly farther, faster, and with better equipment. One of my greatest hopes is to still be around when scientists discover the first life beyond our world; whether they find microbes or intelligent beings, that knowledge will utterly change the world, and open up vast new horizons.

James Cameron

Academy-award winning director James Cameron reacts with shock and horror as deranged fan Earl J. Woods presents him with a pile of spec scripts. "What the hell is Finger Puppet Star Trek? Generous Nature? Toilet Chase? Uhhh..."

On the way to work this morning, I happened to run into James Cameron, director of some of my favourite films - The Terminator, Terminator 2, The Abyss, Aliens, etc. Seizing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I whipped out my portfolio and forced it into the director's hands as he tried to escape...

Actually, that's not what happened. Cameron is in Alberta to learn about the oil sands and to see what he can do to help First Nations peoples affected by the environmental consequences of oil sands development. The First Nations of Fort Chipewan, grateful to Official Opposition Leader David Swann for his interest and promotion of their issues, arranged for Swann to meet with Cameron this morning.

I went along to shoot some photos, and my boss Neil Mackie, knowing what a huge science fiction and film fan I am, had David introduce me to Cameron. I stammered something or other about loving his work, and the director was very gracious indeed in his response to probably the zillionth fan to say something he's heard many, many times before. "Suck them in with a little action and adventure and sell a good message," he said. That describes the Cameron canon, all right.

Personally, I don't like to bother people, especially famous people who I imagine must have to put up with a tremendous amount of nonsense from fans. But I have to admit that I'm grateful to David and Neil for providing me with what was, in truth, a thrilling moment. And I'm grateful to my coworker Tanara for snapping a candid of the moment!

Hawaii Five Oh-Oh

Earl outside Steve McGarrett's original office in Honolulu, 2008

While watching the new Hawaii Five-O, it occured to me that the reimagined show's title has no internally consistent reason for existing. Allow me to explain. 

The original show was so named for the (fictional) state police department of the 50th state, Hawaii; hence, "Hawaii Five-O," shorthand within the universe of the show for the 50th and final state police department of the United States. Presumably in this universe, a show about the state police of Alaska (if indeed they have state police) would be named Alaska Four-9. While Hawaii does not, in reality, have a state police force, the show was so popular that in the real world, police officers of any geographic location came to be referred to as "five-o."

If the new show were a mere continuation of the old - that is, if the characters were new and the adventures of Steve McGarret and Danno and Kono and all the rest were acknowledged to exist in the past of the new show's fictional universe, the title would still make sense. The old show was Hawaii Five-O; the new show is Hawaii Five-O.

But the new show's characters all have the same names as characters in the old show. So there are new actors playing McGarrett, Kono, Danno and Chin Ho. Presumably in this universe there was never a television show called Hawaii Five-O; otherwise, the new Kono, McGarrett et al. would presumably be amazed that four people with the names of famous characters of the seventies were brought together to work in similar circumstances, namely serving as police officers in Hawaii.

"Say, McGarrett, isn't it weird that you and I and Kono and Chin Ho all have the same names as the guys from that old tv show?"

"Yeah, it's weird. But it's not THAT huge a coincidence, because the real Kono is a girl, and the dude on the show was a guy."

"Oh yeah, that's true."

Since this conversation never occurs, we can infer that the original Hawaii Five-O (the television show, that is) does not exist in the world of the new show. But even worse, there's no reference to a state police force in the new show; the characters just work on some kind of "task force." They can't call themselves "Hawaii Five-O" because there is no 50th state police force in the world of the show. But since the original TV series didn't exist in the world of this show, nor can they call themselves "five-o" colloquially, because the reason for the catchphrase - the original show - doesn't exist in the world of these new characters.

Of course you could argue that television show titles exist outside the narrative. But Hawaii Five-O's title was uniquely derived to highlight a crucial aspect of the fictional world it created: there exists a state police force in Hawaii, and these are their adventures.

I think we should get Steve McGarrett on this case immediately.

The Great Dilithium Crystal Heist

Dilithium crystals were invented by Star Trek's producers as a plot point for an early episode; there is a real-world molecule known as dilithium, but it doesn't power starships (so far as we know).

Apparently dilithium crystals are rare and valuable in the DC universe too, as seen in this early 70s issue of Justice League of America. Here Hawkman, in his role as a police officer of the world Thanagar, rushes to apprehend a thief of the legendary crystals. Oddly, he's stealing them from a museum. Perhaps they were the very crystals first seen in "The Naked Time," preserved by Thanagarian historians for posterity. Well, except this story takes place in the 1970s and the Star Trek episode occurs in the 23rd century. On the other hand, it was a time travel episode, so...

Great Aunt Blanche's Big Adventure

I picked up a new scanner for the express purpose of archiving Mom and Dad's collection of old slide photos. It works pretty well for most slides newer than late 70s vintage, but some of the older slides in their collection don't have the standard frame size of later 35 mm slides. I ran into this problem back when I took some slides in to London Drugs for scanning; their scanners returned photos with chopped off heads and all kinds of other problems. Their equipment just wasn't made to handle older slides.

My home scanner does a much better job, although sometimes I have to align the slides vertically instead of horizontally to ensure that the full image is captured. But with some slides, not even that will ensure the whole image is captured. For this slide of my Great Aunt Blanche - she's at the lower right - I had to scan the original slide twice at different angles, then combine the two images in Photoshop. At this rate, it's going to take me years to archive the hundreds of slides in Mom and Dad's collection, but I think it's a job worth doing - not only for the sake of family history, but because I find old photos inherently fascinating.

When I first glanced at the slide, I thought perhaps Great Aunt Blanche had attended an Apollo rocket launch, based on the tropical foliage and the late-sixties fashions. But as you can see, the slide itself is labelled "At Sun City - Jan." (Presumably January, though what year, I wonder...) Was Great Aunt Blanche taking in a concert in Sun City, South Africa? Or are the people on the hill watching some kind of sporting event?
Great Aunt Blanche died a few years ago at a very ripe old age, so I can't ask her. I'll have to ask my parents if they remember.

Laurie Blakeman on Conservation, Land Use and Oil Sands Development

Alberta Liberal MLA and Official Opposition Environment Critic Laurie Blakeman points out that the Alberta government is on the cusp of making some far-reaching decisions about how land in the Lower Athabasca region will be developed in the long term, and how much of that land - currently up to a mere twenty percent - will be conserved, leaving eighty percent open to development. The Alberta government will be holding open public stakeholder meetings at various communites in Alberta throughout September, and you can also leave your thoughts online. Visit http://www.landuse.alberta.ca/ for details.

Full disclosure: as a staff member of the Official Opposition, I did a small amount of work on this video (I took a couple of the still photos).

Edited to add: for some reason, embedding videos doesn't work very well with my blog setup, resulting in some of the image being cut off at the right. Until I solve this problem, you can also view the video here.

Thanks, Kevin

Earlier this month, former Alberta Liberal Leader Kevin Taft announced that he will not run for reelection. I was saddened but unsurprised by this news. Kevin has poured heart and soul into provincial politics for a decade; he's more than done his bit for democracy.

It seems a little odd to say that one could ever be a fan of a politician, so reviled is the breed. But I was and am a fan of Kevin Taft. I was a fan even before I started working for the Official Opposition.

I've never told anyone this, but I first became aware of Kevin because my friend Leslie edited Kevin's first book, Shredding the Public Interest. Because of my interest in Leslie's work, I read the book, and I was impressed by Kevin's clearheaded, nonpartisan analysis of the Klein government's unneccessary cuts to public services. A few months later, I happened across Kevin in person; he was giving an interview to a television crew at West Edmonton Mall. I almost worked up the nerve to introduce myself, but at the time I figured that Kevin was probably a busy man and didn't want to be bothered. I should have realized that politicians by their very nature actively pursue meeting new people! But the moment passed, and I went back to my job at Hole's, working on gardening books and writing speeches for Lois, who was either University of Alberta Chancellor or Lieutenant Governor of Alberta at the time - I don't remember the exact year I bumped into Kevin at WEM.

I've always defined myself as progressive, meaning that I believe in the importance of public services, I'm a strong believer in free speech and human rights, I don't mind paying reasonable taxes, and I think that instititions that serve the common good are vital: libraries, schools, public transit, public health care, museums, universities and so on. Kevin's writing and his statements in the Legislature and in the media earned my respect. At the same moment, I was writing speeches for one of the most impressive and progressive politicians in Alberta - Lois Hole. Of course her position was supposed to be apolitical, but she always encouraged me to push the limits of what was deemed acceptable speech from a Lieutenant Governor, and so I had the freedom to write about passions we shared: public libraries, public education, public health care and all the rest.

Even so, there was only so much Lois could or should say in a viceregal position. I began to feel that one day, sooner or later, I would have to take a more active role in provincial politics.

After Lois died in early 2005, I found myself somewhat adrift. I did work for her successor, Normie Kwong, for a few months, and I kept writing gardening material with Lois' son Jim, and I enjoyed both jobs. But it wasn't the same. So in late 2005, I applied for a job with the Official Opposition, starting in January 2006 as a writer, or more officially, a "Communications Coordinator." I first met Kevin officially at a Christmas-week meeting a few days before my official start date, and in retrospect I'm a little embarrassed by my behaviour; I think I sputtered a couple of fanboyish lines like "I'm a big fan!" and "I'm so honoured to be working with you!" Not exactly the cool, collected image I was hoping to present.

Working for any opposition party in Alberta is a tough gig, but Kevin's conviction and his desire to do the right thing for the people of Alberta always motivated me to do my best. As I got to know Kevin and his wife Jeanette, my conviction that he (and they) were in politics for the best of reasons grew firmer. I've never had a shred of doubt that Kevin wanted to be Premier for anything but the most altruistic reasons; Kevin saw the flaws in Tory governance, and wanted to fix things. You can't ask for more than that from a politician. He even married Sylvia and I in 2007, and he did a wonderful job.

Kevin will continue to serve as the MLA for Edmonton-Riverview until the next election is called. If my services are still needed, I'll be staying on to help Kevin's successor, Dr. David Swann - another good man of excellent character, full of compassion - fight the election. But I'm going to miss Kevin, and whatever he and his family choose to do afterward, I wish them all the best.

One Last Look at Lost: The New Man in Charge

Back in May, I wrote about my disappointment with the finale of Lost. My greatest complaint was the episode's failure to address some of the most intruiging mysteries surrounding the island and the Dharma Initiative. The show provided an emotional resolution, but I was looking for intellectual satisfaction too. In other words, I wanted some answers to the questions the show so gleefully raised over the course of six years.

Last night, Sylvia and I watched "The New Man in Charge," the twelve-minute epilogue included as a bonus feature on the Lost Blu-Ray set. Without giving too much away, the mini-sode chronicles a short vignette providing a glimpse into Hurley's new role as island overseer, with Benjamin Linus as his right-hand man.

As might be expected, the short didn't answer every unresolved question, but it did tackle a few minor mysteries; and more importantly, it gave one neglected character some resolution and the possibility of new adventures.

Deliberately, I think, the answers provided by the short were fairly predictable, the sort of thing viewers could have - and perhaps should have - come up with on our own. The episode almost reads like fan fiction, with its love of minutiae. In fact, the answers given are so logical and straightforward one should assume that the showrunners are taking a bit of a poke at the audience - admittedly with some justification. It's as if they're asking "Really - you needed us to answer that question for you?"

And yet there's clearly a method to their madness, because I find myself with somewhat warmer feelings toward a show that disappointed me in the end. "The New Man in Charge" by no means completely redeems the series' climax, but it does mitigate some of its sins, if only by reminding the audience that our own imagination is a perfectly valid a tool for interpreting and continuing stories crafted by others.

In effect, the producers are saying that the answers are out there - now go find them. Or create them. Perhaps, in the final analysis, that's the best way to end this show...by encouraging viewers to "get lost" in the best possible sense, by finding their own answers - answers quite possibly more satisfying and creative than any Lost's producers could have given. This epilogue encourages viewers to add to the show's mythology on their own.

I think that's a pretty good message from a medium that usually encourages passive absorption of culture, rather than active engagement. And now I've found a way to make peace with Lost after all.

The Financial Foibles of the Fantastic Four

Given the current recession and the state of most RRSPs these days, I can't help but take comfort from Mr. Fantastic's umbrage. Even a genius like Reed Richards can take a hit from the market, just like the rest of us.

Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, creators of the Fantastic Four, revolutionized comic superheroes by bringing their typically larger-than-life antics down to earth from time to time. On one page, the FF or Spider-Man might be fighting a galactic threat; on the next, worrying about their dysfunctional lives. I wonder how much Reed might have fetched for the Pogo Plane, the Fantasticar or the Ultimate Nullifier if he'd had access to ebay...

Earl's First Attempt at Cooking with the New Oven

Shower Slipup

The huge walk-in shower is one of the most appealling features of our new home, but I discovered today that safety in the bathroom remains a subject of vital importantce. While luxuriating in the spray and steam, I decided that since there was enough room to lie down in the shower, I might as well give it a try. Unfortunately my feet flew out from under me as I shifted position and I cracked my skull on the unforgiving porcelain tiles of the wall. One of my flailing arms swept every single beauty and hygiene product off the shelf and across the shower floor. The tremendous "clonk" of my impact shook the foundations of our new home, and Sylvia cried out in alarm.

"I'm okay," I shouted, even though I could still see animated bluebirds circling my head, merrily chirping away.

A few moments later, Sylvia offered her sympathies. "Poor baby," she said, "Did you land really hard on your bum?"

"Fortunately, I landed on my head," I quipped. Fortunate indeed - a thick skull has saved many a showering fool over the years. Next time, I'll stay on the rubber safety mat.

Breakfast Boondoggle

It's 10:59:30 am as you pull into the drive-thru lane at McDonald's. You're relieved that you've made it just before the breakfast menu cutoff, but your passenger has a hankering for a Big Mac and fries. If you use the remaining 30 seconds before 11:00 am to order breakfast items, then switch to your friend's lunch order at 11:00 am precisely, will McDonald's provide both breakfast and lunch?

I should try this sometime, with a very accurate timepiece.

Moving Heaven and Earl

Mom and Dad were kind enough to lend Sylvia and me their truck for our move, and Sean loaned us his brawn. As a result, we're mostly moved in, with much gratitude to my family!

Just a few dozen more boxes of books to go...

"I thought you said you'd see me in hell before you moved these boxes."

"Well, now I've seen hell. Contrary to popular belief, hell is not other people, and it's not the absence of god. It's boxes of books piled to the ceiling. Get an ebook reader for the love of all that's holy."

Now that we have a bigger place, Mom and Dad don't have to store my leftover campaign signs from the 2008 provincial election. Or my old Star Wars action figure...or my grade school report cards...

Boxing Myself In

Several months ago, Sylvia and I stored some of our stuff at my parents' place to make our first condo less cramped and more attractive to prospective buyers. Yesterday, Sean and I travelled to Leduc to borrow Mom and Dad's truck and to pick up this first load of stuff. Unfortunately, I managed to box myself into the basement. Planning ahead is important when you move. (Sean rescued me after taking this humiliating photo.)

Sean and I are moving more boxes today. Sylvia is so excited that she's figuratively bouncing off the walls. Fun!

First Glimpse at Our New Home

Yesterday Sylvia and I took possession of our new condo! Thanks to Sylvia's excellent money management and our realtor's amazing negotiating skills, we have a beautiful new home with all the room I'll ever need for all my books.

I'd like to reiterate how pleased we are with Patrick Fields, our realtor. He was a model of professionalism and kindness throughout the entire process, and Sylvia and I have no hesitation about recommending his services to anyone looking to buy or sell a new home. He helped make an inherently stressful experience much more pleasant.

Of course, we still have to move our stuff, which will involve lugging around hundreds of heavy, book-filled boxes. This time, though, I thought ahead and borrowed a dolly, which should make the job a lot easier. Photos to come!

Garth's Teeth

I've always been fascinated by the relish with which my friend Jeff tells the story of Garth's Teeth. He's been telling it since I met him back in 1987 or 88, back in the days of the U of A Star Trek Club. Last year, when Sylvia and I visited Jeff and Susan in BC, I finally captured the story on video for posterity. I've also been experimenting with simple video editing, so this version of the story is embellished with some silly special effects.

Fox and the Boxes

Jeff Shyluk writes, "I noticed that your Earl Default Character looked to me an awful lot like David Duchovny. I took the liberty of adding an Armani suit in PShop so you can see what I mean." So if I wore an Armani suit, would I look like David Duchovny? Maybe after I haul many, many, many boxes...

Lister Hall and Rutherford Library circa 1989-1990

Posting that last video evoked some feelings of nostalgia, so here's another glimpse into my past at Lister Hall and the University of Alberta. One day Jeff Pitts came by for a visit and we went to the Ruthorford Library to do some research. Since those days, a new residence tower has grown at Lister and I'm sure the terminal I'm typing on in the video below has been replaced with something much more modern. Time marches on little cat feet...

A few months ago I managed to transfer all of my old home movies from Super 8 mm film, 8 mm tape, VHS and Beta to DVD. A fraction of that is available on my hard drive as easily-editable digital files. My long-term goal is to sort everything chronologically and clean it up as best I can, perhaps using some of the footage to create a few themed shorts. Why? I'm not sure. The images and sounds I captured will be of little interest to historians, and I will have no descendants that might want a family history. And yet I feel compelled to preserve these captured photons and wisps of other times. Perhaps, as postulated in more than one science fiction story, the people of the future will use these archives to rebuild a virtual Earl for purposes unknowable to us primitives, and my friends and I will live again.

Sean and the Boxes

Those of you who aren't on Facebook shouldn't miss Sean's clever vandalization of the grafitti I sent to him tonight. Ah, the wonders of moving into a new home...

The Haunted Elevator of Henday Hall

At left: a typical Lister Hall elevator and an unsuspecting pizza delivery boy (and friend).

Watching Inception last week reminded me of some of the dreamlike incidents in my own past - surreal events that have a natural explanation (as all events do, however odd), but an explanation hidden from my understanding.

For a few months during my last year at the University of Alberta, I took a one-night-a-week job as a pizza deliveryman at Lister Hall, the university residence. The pay was miniscule - perhaps five or six dollars an hour - but enough, at the time, to pay for Coke and comic books.


Every shift, I reported to The Marina, the in-house grill located in Lister Hall proper. Completed pizzas were placed on a cart, which I pushed from the main building down the underground hallways to Lister's residence towers - Henday, Mackenzie, and Kelsey - and our waiting customers.

Late one shift, I was pushing my cart toward the Henday tower's elevator. Just as I approached, the elevator doors slid open, even before I pressed the call button. I was a little nonplussed, but shoved the cart inside and turned to push the button for the eighth floor. Before I could do so, the elevator lurched upward, throwing me a little off-balance. Steadying myself on the cart, I impulsively decided not to press 8, instead letting the elevator take me where it might. My eyebrows lifted in surprise as the doors opened up to the eighth floor.

With a mental shrug, I left the lift, delivered the pizza, and returned to the elevator - only to watch as its doors opened again without prompting. I didn't hesitate; I had no thoughts of malevolent elevator demons delivering me to the depths of the earth. I just smiled, pushed the cart into the car, and remained passive as the lift plummeted gently to the basement. The doors opened once more, inviting me to leave, and slid closed behind me as I continued my rounds.

At the time I spent a good deal of thought trying to figure out why the elevator seemed so eager to please. No buttons were pressed; none were lit inside the lift; I saw no furtive pranksters setting me up for a gag. A mechanical malfunction seems unlikely, and yet it's the only rational cause I can come up with.

While I'm not a believer in the supernatural, sometimes it pleases me to imagine that there were unseen, unearthly forces at work that night, invisible jesters having fun with some mortal fool. My strange elevator ride added intrigue and mystery to an otherwise dull evening - and, it seems, to my memories of a mostly ordinary life. Whatever happened, however mundane the true cause, I remain grateful for my odd excursion to the outer limits of the twilight zone.

The Marina as it was back in the late 80s/early 90s.

The Art of Friendship - Epilogue

The Raven and the First Men, Bill Reid

The next day, Jeff and Susan went to see a BC Lions game, so Steven took Sylvia and me on a short tour of the Museum of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia. I enjoyed the current exhibit, Border Zones: New Art Across Cultures, particularly a simple but shockingly effective short film depicting the stark reality of an industrial landfill. The film is a simple loop, about twenty minutes long, of train cars rolling past the dump, debris being added to the dump, and a crane shifting refuse back and forth. The bleak desolation, the lack of any life or humanity, paints a very effective portrait of the hidden costs of our industrial society. Even the nuclear-blasted apocalyptic landscape of James Cameron's Terminator films looks more appealing than this glimpse of an ugly reality most people never see or even consider.

That's the thing about art; it reveals truths, creates truths, questions truths - all in the hopes of helping humanity understand itself and the world around us. Our weekend in Vancouver reminded me that even though I'll never be an artist, I still benefit tremendously from the creativity of the people all around me - my friend Jeff, my cousin Keith, the clever creators of Star Trek: Chains of Betrayal, the artists ancient and modern featured at the Museum of Anthropology, and the millions of other artists around the world who are generous enough to share their talents with the rest of us.

Jeff, Susan, Steven, Keith - thanks for an inspiring weekend.

The Art of Friendship, Part II

Just a few hours later, we gathered at the Western Front, on trendy East 8th Avenue. Steven had already started to figure out what was going on, pursuing clues I'd dropped. Jeff and Susan, however, weren't quite as quick to figure it out...probably because they were suppressing the horror of what was to come.

When my cousin Keith Langergraber showed up to greet us, the final pieces of the puzzle fell into place. We'd journeyed to Vancouver because Keith is an artist and a fan of science fiction. Knowing that I, too, was a fan, he asked me to provide some supporting materials for his exhibition, The Society of Temporal Investigations, a mixed-media work that uses drawings, films, writing and modelmaking to examine the relationships between fans and the shows they follow. I was only too happy to offer Keith a selection of appropriately-themed articles from this blog and a fan film I directed nearly twenty years ago...Finger Puppet Star Trek.

Jeff and Susan were instrumental in the creation of Finger Puppet Star Trek; they designed and built the sets, costumes and "makeup" (i.e., they drew the faces on our fingers). They also served as voice actors. Needless to say, when we filmed Finger Puppet Star Trek back in the early 90s, we never expected it to have a premiere in front of several dozen people. But that's exactly what was about to happen. Watch as the implications start to set in...

Jeff and Susan - and for that matter, Sylvia - managed to fortify themselves with enough alcohol to get through the evening. Steven, cool as a cucumber, prepared for a night of amusement at his sister's and brother-in-law's expense. (He was fortunate enough to be unavailable during the Finger Puppet shoot.)

Before the screening, we gathered in the gallery to see the show's foundation, Keith's impressive array of modelwork and drawings. I was quite impressed with Keith's presentation. Through his work and his remarks, Keith showed how some fans of science fiction are not merely consumers of culture, but active participants, reinterpreting the science fiction canon to suit their own vision and desires. Keith started the festivities with a brief talk about his work, referencing Robert Smithson's essay "The Shape of Future and Memory" and his work, Spiral Jetty. Keith's own work is littered with spirals, as befits a genre preoccupied with stars and galaxies and whirling tunnels to other times, other dimensions.

This is the centrepiece of Keith's exhibit: The Battle of Procyon V. Keith kitbashed many Star Trek model kits to create this impressive tableau. The pictures really don't do it justice. The battle, by the way, is a canonical event from Star Trek: Enterprise. Keith's work here both extends and comments upon one of the most common fan phenomena: our propensity to extrapolate and reinterpret relationships, events or ideas only touched on in the original works. We become authors in our own right, shaping our own personal canon - if indeed there can be such a thing as a "personal canon," a concept hotly debated in fan circles.

Steven watches the battle. Clearly I fooled around with some Photoshop effects here.

Here's Keith, with some of his artwork in the background. Keith is not only an artist, but a teacher at Emily Carr University and Thompson Rivers University.

Keith and Steven discuss the exhibit. In a moment of synchronicity, Steven discovered that Keith had included an old USS Bonaventure/Edmonton Star Trek Society publication in his collection of fan works - a publication that several members of the University of Alberta Star Trek Club, including myself, had worked on. Keith said that he found it at a thrift store in Trail. You never know where your work is going to end up...

After Keith's well-received talk, we retired upstairs for the screening.

First up was "Chains of Betrayal," a fanmade episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. The episode starts off a little slow, but the laughs get better and more plentiful as the show goes on. I'm extremely impressed by the work of these young men and women, who clearly have an excellent grasp of the correct pase and structure of a typical ST: TNG episode. Aside from the sometimes-primitive green screen work and the haphazard costuming, this could almost pass for a real episode...

Next to "Chains of Betrayal," Finger Puppet Star Trek looks quite primitive. On the other hand, our film is much older and was created in five hours, as opposed to the five years spent on the more polished episode. Still, I offer no excuses...

I think "Chains of Betrayal" deserved all the praise Keith heaped upon it. He was also very kind - quite probably too kind - to our film, pointing out how interesting it was that we chose to adapt the most cerebral of the Star Trek features. During the Q&A session, I admitted that there was no deep meaning behind our choice; it was simply the first of the Star Trek films, and we were proceeding in a linear fashion. No spirals here, except perhaps the spinning of Jeff's head when he saw the film projected on a big screen...

The audience was quite kind as well, and asked good questions about both films, which I and the Vancouver filmmakers attempted to answer. I think everyone had quite a good time.

For another take on Keith's show, read Jeff Shyluk's analysis.

Thanks very much to Keith Langergraber for inviting me to participate in his show, and for allowing me to post images depicting his art. Keith's show is on the road now, so if it comes to your neck of the woods, check it out!

Here are a few more images from the show...

Jeff noted that if you stood in the right place, the lights looked like a string of photon torpedoes. I wasn't quite tall enough to photograph the effect properly, so I faked it...

Next: the epilogue.

The Art of Friendship, Part I

On June 18, Sylvia and I travelled to visit some old friends in Vancouver - Jeff and Susan Shyluk and Steven Neumann, Susan's brother. Though these friends weren't aware of it, there was a special reason for the journey, a reason that connects themes of friendship and art across two decades.

On our first day, Jeff took Sylvia and I to see his painting "Hyde Creek" at the Green Revolution Art Show in Port Coquitlam's Leigh Square Gathering Place. As an art critic I make a pretty good blogger, but I think it's a marvellous piece and I'm thrilled that Jeff secured a place in this show. For more on the Green Revolution, check out Jeff's blog on the subject here. And here's a better view of the painting itself.

Sylvia and I had to pose with Jeff's work, which is available for sale, by the way.

Since taking a graphic design class from Jeff via electronic correspondence last year, I've tried to pay closer attention to the patterns in nature and art - the straight lines, the curves, the play of light and shadow. (If I'm not mistaken, Jeff's frame appears to be a Golden Rectangle...) I'm never going to be a visual artist, but I still find it challenging and fun to stretch the limits of my talent in that regard. While touring the Gathering Place and nearby Hyde Creek, I kept an eye out for interesting shapes and lines, and shot the following:

The ceiling of the Gathering Place.

Stone sphere in Port Coquitlam. If you look at this for a while, it begins to look like the flag of some imaginary nation.

Sylvia and an outdoor art installation made of old mailboxes.

Sometimes art is a happy accident. Jeff had his hands full so I attempted to perform an extended-arm couples portrait - no easy feat with a bulky digital SLR. I caught this image of half a Sylvia.

Tilting the camera over a little created some interesting diagonal lines.

Port Coquitlam is beautiful, but like any industrialized city, it has its share of urban ugliness. From a construction site behind Hyde Creek, I call this "Cyclopean Scream."

An untitled compantion piece.

I met Steven (pictured), Susan and Jeff during my first year at the University of Alberta (1987-88) - we were all members, Geek Alert, of the U of A Star Trek Club. This detail will become important later on!

Jeff and Susan were excellent hosts, making me feel bad about the insidious trap I'd laid for them and would spring upon them the following night.

Sylvia was aware, but sworn to silence.

Aside from his talents in painting and drawing, Jeff is also a student of the culinary arts. I was amazed by this dough-rolly-thingy, which Jeff used to make homemade pasta. I am amazed that such a thing is even possible. And yet, there was Jeff, creating dough with his bare hands, flattening it and shaping it into...I think he called it rota. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

Like Sylvia and me, Jeff, Susan and Steven enjoy board games. I brought along my newest favourite, Last Night on Earth, a very cinematic survival horror game that pits a quartet of heroes against a gaggle of hungry zombies. Afterward, Jeff had me draw, from memory, the layout of the Bleak House of Blahs, a house I shared with three friends for about a year and a half in the early 90s. Jeff is working on a board game adaptation of our Toilet Chase screenplay, which features the Bleak House of Blahs prominently. Creating board games is an art too, and I'm extremely eager to see the fruit of Jeff's labours.

The next day, we walked around Jeff and Susan's immediate neighbourhood. Susan, Sylvia and Jeff were dwarfed by the trees just a few metres away from their doorstep. I was consciously attempting to follow the rule of thirds in several of these photos, with middling results. Clearly having a light pole coming out of Jeff's head is pretty poor composition.

Another attempt at following the rule of thirds, and I've cropped the photograph in an attempt to create a golden rectangle. Rather than properly measure the ratio, I eyeballed it, wanting to test Jeff's assertion during the graphic design course that such estimates are usually closer to correct than one might expect. I'll leave the judgement to others.

This photo is too dark even after my feeble image correction, but I like Susan's gesture and I think it illustrates how the rule of thirds draws the eye of the viewer from one subject to another.

Again, a little dark. But Sylvia was fascinated by the soft, silky texture of this tree's needles.

I'm a pretty terrible macro photographer (I'd probably be better with the right lens), but I'm still pleased with this image of Susan's hand.

Back in the late 90s, I wanted to write a book about the Shadow People. This was my name for those unfortunate souls illustrating the dangers of everyday life in the modern world. Here a hapless Shadow Person is electrocuted, presumably because he decided to play with a transformer. There's a lot going on here; the sticker is upside-down, adding to the drama of the Shadow Person's death pose. And the rusted-out state of the transformer and its arcane logo at upper right remind me of the post-apocalyptic aesthetic of the Fallout video games.

Jeff and Susan urged me to ingest a native berry. I did so, and took the opportunity to ham it up. I used Photoshop to create this dramatic sequence. Probably went a little overboard with the lens flare, but the stroke tool is awesome. Again, what little prowess I possess can be credited to (or blamed on) Jeff.

British Columbians are remarkably conscious of their impact on the environment. This fish symbol indicates that the drain here leads to salmon habitat. It's a warning not to throw crud down there.

Mock me all you like, for you are my puppets as as demonstrate once again the rule of thirds. Sort of. Well, there are three people in the frame...

As our short sojurn came to an end, I was already vibrating with anticipation for what was to come. Soon I would lure my friends and my long-suffering wife into a conflagration of art, angst, pop culture, geekdom, long-lost relatives and public humiliation. Stay tuned for Part II!