#REVIEW: MJ-12: INCEPTION, by Michael J. Martinez

I have51V8EMC0iNL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg gone on the record twice as being a big fan of the work of Michael J. Martinez.  I have read all three of his previous books from his Daedalus trilogy, and I loved the latter two enough to rave about them on the blog.  In the third one, he was kind enough to mention me in the afterword.  I’ve never met the guy, but we interact occasionally on Twitter.  He is my favorite current, working adventure writer.  I have no idea if he’s noticed my books or not.

Well, one way or the other, I lucked into an advance copy of the first book of his new series.  The book is called MJ-12: INCEPTIONand the series is just called Majestic-12.  

The Daedalus books were about… well, quite a lot of things, actually.  Dimension-hopping hard-sci-fi steampunk space galleons with aliens on Venus and ancient magic affecting the real world.  They were, uh, a bit hard to categorize, but what was clear about the entire series was that Martinez had a huge amount of fun writing them, particularly in the last installment of the series.

MJ-12: INCEPTION is a very, very, very different series from the Daedalus books.  So much so, in fact, that were it not for his love of genrebending (or, perhaps, hatred of the idea of genre) bleeding through, I’d not have been able to guess that the books were by the same person.  That said, I can find out quickly if you are interested in reading the book by asking a very short question:  How do you feel about Cold War superheroes?

Okay.  You just told yourself whether you should read this book or not.  And if I have any influence, you should.  MJ-12: INCEPTION isn’t as madcap or as breathtakingly original as the previous series, but it’s a convincing period piece set at the very beginning of the Cold War, right after the end of World War II.  Harry Truman is a character, as is large chunks of his Cabinet, and if Martinez played fast and loose with any historical events other than a couple of obvious ones they got past me.  It’s not as fun as his previous series but I’m not sure that’s a criticism, as “Cold War thriller” isn’t necessarily a genre I need to be a lot of fun.  It is, instead, a solid espionage story that links the emergence of superpowered people, known as Variants, to the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings (well, Hiroshima, specifically) and then imagines what might happen if the United States and the Russians both had access to an expanding pool of metahumans.  Along the way we get a cool look at mid-1940s tradecraft and a bit of Bond-level gadgetry.

It’s not the Martinez I’m used to, but I’ve pre-ordered the hardcover despite getting the book for free.  The rest of you can have it on September 6.  I highly recommend it.

My belated birthday present

My brother and new sister in law know me very well, it seems:

In which I forget that posts need titles until after I’ve hit Publish

Hot-Weather-Malaysia.jpgIt is not as hot outside as I was expecting it to be today– which is to say, when I look outside nothing is obviously on fire.  That said, I have at least one customer out on the golf course at OtherJob right now who I am not entirely certain is going to survive the experience.  I’m comfortably ensconced in an air conditioned gameroom that hasn’t had many people breathing in it, so I’m doing fine– but I need to figure out how to get to my car at the end of the day without leaving the game room, which might be a bit tricky.

In other news, despite above-average caffeine consumption for the morning, I’ve been yawning for six solid hours and have formally taken next week off from OtherJob, meaning that my string of five straight six-day, 53-hour weeks is about to finally be snapped.  My day off yesterday featured taking my son to day care, grabbing breakfast, doing a competitive shop at a furniture store that I don’t work at (after waiting in the parking lot for 45 minutes because I couldn’t think of anything else to do to kill the time before the place opened) and then coming home and staring at a computer screen for two more hours before taking a three-hour nap.  Despite that, everyone in my house was still in bed before nine last night.  Needless to say, no fiction was written.  Once I leave here I have to go back to the other furniture store for a moment– I was informed that I had managed to miss a critical piece that we need to know the pricing of– and then off to my mom and dad’s for pizza with my brother and new sister-in-law, who I haven’t seen since their wedding.  I’m excited about it, but I also kind of wish I could find a way to have pizza and see family from my bed.

And then it will be Saturday, which is my Monday now, and everything will start over again.


c0a8349fee3c9bfe413e1bb453bcdf48.jpgIn other, entirely unrelated news: did anyone reading this post have a dad like this?  One of those “I’ll kill you if you touch my daughter” types?  I don’t know why, but I caught myself thinking about this type of guy (note: I do not have a daughter) earlier today, and it occurred to me that the way you treat your daughter’s boyfriends has got to be a reflection of the way you, yourself, treat and/or treated women.  I feel like it’s got to say something fucked up about you that you feel the need to go all alpha gorilla and shotgunny when some dipshit teenager comes near your daughter.

(The picture is probably a joke.  Almost certainly.  But we all know these guys exist.  Or maybe they don’t; I dunno, maybe it’s a stereotype that isn’t really real– the father of the only girl I ever really dated in high school was literally on another continent and I met very few dads in between her and the woman I ended up marrying.  Needless to say, by that point we were both grown and her dad very clearly understood that he no longer had any say in the matter one way or another.)

Any thoughts on that, anybody?

 

God I’m going to miss the Obamas

This is a bit long, but “Single Ladies” and the Missy Elliott bit are pure gold:

In which reality and Twitter are both dumb

Screen Shot 2016-07-20 at 6.53.10 PM.png

So seeing this tweet from Kirsten Gillibrand got me all het up at first.  There is no way in the universe that Citizens United is going to be overturned in Hillary’s first 30 days in office.  It’s a literal impossibility.  Even with the most compliant Congress of all time, it’s not going to happen, because it can’t.  It would require either another court case to make its way through the system that would challenge United (but would likely not result in an overturn, since the court’s not that much different now) or an actual amendment to the Constitution, which cannot happen in a 30-day timeframe.

I had the blog post composed almost immediately, all full of Dammit, if Trump said something this stupid it would be because he doesn’t know how the government works, but I know you know better, so this is just a lie and a bunch of other similar critical-of-the-person-I’m-voting-for sort of stuff.

Then I clicked on the link, which I had actually missed on my first read of the Tweet, because I was eating and distracted while looking at Twitter, and what Gillibrand means is that Clinton will call for an amendment during her first thirty days, and that the “working to overturn” will start within the first thirty days, not the actual overturn itself.  Which is a perfectly reasonable thing and while perhaps not politically possible is at least a thing that the President is capable of doing.

So there goes that post in a puff of “do your reading, asshole” and Twitter brevity.  Sigh.


I’ve paid no attention whatsoever to the Republican convention and don’t intend to start now.  So I have nothing to say about that.


I actually went and looked at a car this afternoon, and pretty much ruined the salesperson’s day by refusing to buy anything.  The 2017 Escape does ride really nicely, though, and while they offered me what I’m pretty sure actually represents a good deal.  He said I wasn’t allowed to take the offer sheet they gave me home with me, but then left me alone with it for a few minutes so of course I took a picture, because seriously, dude, it’s 2016, don’t leave me alone with the damn thing if you don’t want me to have a copy.

Nonetheless, I will not be buying a car until I’m certain I can hand over the down payment in cash.  Which I can’t do just yet.  But maybe by wintertime?  We’ll see.


We’re supposed to see a 110 degree heat index on Friday, so all this is entirely moot, as the world will have caught on fire and I will have died by then.  So… I dunno, try to get laid in the next couple of days?  Because you may not have another chance.

REBLOG: Open Letter to My Fellow Geeks, by Kate Chaplin

I met Kate at Starbase Indy last year– we were booth buddies. You need to read this.

Leah Leach's avatarKate Chaplin

My Fellow Geeks,

We need to have a conversation.

Growing up in the 1980’s geeks and nerds were not popular at school, in film, or in pop culture. Films like Revenge of the Nerds and Weird Science showed geeks and nerds as outcasts, misunderstood and perpetually destined to live in mom’s basement and make robot women.

Steadfastly, we found heroes in our nerdom. Characters we could relate to whether geeky like Val Kilmer in Real Genius, heroic like Superman, or business savvy like Steve Jobs. We found a kinship with them, many times alone, sometimes with a few trusted friends.

We dreamed of the day we’d be accepted. When it would be okay to love comics, video games and sci-fi. When the bullying would stop. But something happened…

Geek culture became pop culture. Geeks became celebrities in the mainstream. Our beloved comics, books and video games became box office summer…

View original post 1,085 more words

In which bustin’ makes me feel good

aw3snei4begajpjm8agh… which, holy shit, that’s a double entendre, isn’t it?  And it took me 32 years to notice it?  Okay, now my childhood’s ruined.

Here’s the clearest indication that I enjoyed Ghostbusters: the main characters’ names are Abby Yates, Erin Gilbert, Jillian Holtzmann, and Patty Tolan.  The receptionist’s name is Kevin, and I don’t think he had a last name.

I need you to understand this about me: I don’t remember the names of fictional people.  I can read entire books and be able to describe the plot in close detail and have trouble recalling the main character’s name.  I can almost never remember the names of any of the leads of movies.  And I know all five of the major characters in this film.  First and last names.  That’s freaking amazing.  It shouldn’t be the case, but it is.

I didn’t initially want to see Ghostbusters, not because I thought it would Destroy my Childhood– that’s not a real thing– but because I thought it was an unnecessary remake.  The first film is sacred to me, but its sacrality has not led to me seeing the second film more than perhaps twice, so I can’t really pretend I have any loyalty to the franchise.  And there are no Marvel superheroes in this movie, so ignoring it would be well within my established prior practice.  Then I looked around and decided I’d rather change my mind than be on the same side of some of the people who agreed with me about not seeing it, and then I laughed my ass off at the first trailer.  And then I saw the movie on opening night, a thing I haven’t done in, literally, years.

This movie’s funny as hell and you should watch it.   If Kate McKinnon isn’t the funniest motherfucker alive– can I call a woman that?  What if she’s gay?– I don’t know who it is, and Leslie Jones is funny as fuck too.  Also notable is Chris Hemsworth’s performance; I’ve enjoyed his Thor but I seriously had no idea that the guy could be as funny as he is in this movie.

You may have noticed that I haven’t mentioned the putative leads yet, Melissa McCarthy and Kristen Wiig.  I know little about Wiig, but I’ve seen McCarthy in other stuff and she has annoyed me.  Honestly, I thought the two of them were among the weaker bits of the movie.  They have their moments, certainly, but they don’t do “smart” as well as McKinnon does– she is the perfect mad scientist– and many of McCarthy’s lines in particular read like the kind of dialogue that dumb people write for smart people to say.  “You did not disclose that the vehicle in question would be a hearse!” or whatever it was, for example.  Wiig forgets that she’s supposed to be a physicist about fifteen minutes into the movie and there’s no real need for her to remember it since someone has to be the straight woman and be the butt of all the ghost-vomit jokes.  I didn’t dislike her, but she’s not a reason to see the movie.

I do find myself wishing that Patty could have been an academic– either also or maybe flip her role with one of the other women.  I think the idea of a Ph.D candidate in New York history working for the MTA could have worked, for example.  But Patty is a fun character and the Sassy Black Woman stereotype we were all worried about is dialed back about as far as it can go.

Interestingly, this film shares its biggest flaw with Star Wars: The Force Awakens.  TFA’s worst moments all involved the characters from the original trilogy.  Similarly, Ghostbusters is at its worst when it’s trying to remind us that all of the actors from the original films (except for Rick Moranis, who quit acting years ago) supported the project.  Other than the nice touch of putting a bust of Harold Ramis outside Erin Gilbert’s office, the only cameo that wasn’t insanely distracting was Annie Potts.  Murray and Aykroyd, in particular, brought the movie to a screeching halt the three times they were on screen.  And then once you realize what’s going on, and that they’re all gonna show up, you spend the movie watching for the next one, and it’s distracting as hell.

Other than that, though, and Paul Feig’s moderately annoying habit of cutting to Kate McKinnon’s or Leslie Jones’s reaction to every line someone else says (make it part of the drinking game) it’s a hell of a movie.  The villain is interesting– he’s basically a GamerGater who has lucked into some supernatural physics– the effects are fun, and some of the shit they get up to with the proton packs and the other weapons Holtzmann comes up with are awesome fun.  There’s a great stinger at the end of the movie, too, even if the film should have ended with the line “I love this town!” like the first one did.

(Yes, I know what I just said about the first movie.  But they set up that line and then don’t deliver it.  They shoulda, dammit.)

Also, this:

tumblr_o3h0z65Ilp1qzco77o3_250

I wanna marry Kate McKinnon, guys.  I know; I’m married and she’s gay.  Realistically, though, if you think about it, neither of those two things really have much of any effect on my chances, so I figure I’m free to dream on that point.  Then again, I’ve never seen her in anything other than this movie, so maybe it’s the possibly-straight-but-I-doubt-it Jillian Holtzmann who I want to marry.  She’s not real.  That doesn’t affect my chances much either, I guess.

This movie is funny and you will like it so go see it.

The end.

STATION IDENTIFICATION: Infinitefreetime.com

I’m Luther Siler.  I’m a writer and an editor.  Welcome to my blog, infinitefreetime.com.

I’m the author of Skylights, available for $4.95 from Amazon, and The Benevolence Archives.  Benevolence Archives, Vol. 1 is 99 cents from Amazon or free in a variety of formats at Smashwords.  Volume 2, The Sanctum of the Sphere, is $4.95.  All three books are available in print as well, and the print edition of Sanctum includes BA 1 as a bonus!   My newest book is a nonfiction memoir about teaching called Searching for Malumba: Why Teaching is Terrible, and Why We Do It Anyway.  The ebook is $4.95 and the print edition is $15.95.

Autographed books can be ordered straight from me as well.

Here’s where to find Luther Siler on the interwebtron:

  • You can follow me on Twitter, @nfinitefreetime, here or just click the “follow” button on the right side of the page.  I am on Twitter pretty frequently; I use it for liveblogging TV, whining about anything that strikes me as whine-worthy, and for short, Facebook-style posts.  I generally follow back if I can tell you’re a human being.
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