Review: Star Wars Incredible Cross Sections

Star Wars: Incredible Cross Sections

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, as the Star Wars prequels and their merchandise machine rolled into action, an interesting reference book series emerged. This was Dorling Kindersley’s Incredible Cross Sections. I remembered (and loved) similar books as a child showing real things ranging from Boeing 747s to T-34/85 tanks to old age of sail warships. So the art is beautifully done, even if there are issues like the Millennium Falcon being impossible to square totally with its interior and exterior differences.

So these are beautiful books. Unfortunately, the later ones were marred by a controversial author, Curtis Saxton. Saxton’s story is a nerd’s dream come true: An astrophysicist and Star Wars fan who became the writer of a site called the Star Wars Technical Commentaries. Getting to write official material would have been something.

There were two main issues with Saxton. The first is that he was a maximalist who tried to squish the incredibly soft space fantasy of Star Wars into a Stephen Baxterian hard plausible mold. Yes he gives technically accurate numbers for a galactic scale civilization-but it just doesn’t mesh with the actual movies. The second was his fixation on the “Endor Holocaust” (no really he used the exact name) where the debris from the Death Star would have wiped out the Ewok species. Imagine if a Star Trek fan was absolutely adamant that transporters were ‘destructive teleportation’ (ie killing/destroying the original subject and making a copy on the other side). (Ironically the Warhammer 40k fandom has a section like this in the opposite direction, where every Imperial Guardsman is a special forces equivalent elite soldier and most of the human population lives on advanced peaceful civilized worlds).

So not for the first or last time, it was someone plopping their fanfiction into “canon” in a way that didn’t quite fit. But at least the pictures were and are incredible.

A Thousand Words: Chains of Freedom

Chains of Freedom

the XCOM-esque game Chains of Freedom is a new turn-based strategy game that I’ve just completed. It’s well, uh, something. So I wouldn’t have finished the game if it was bad , but man is there so much that drags it and keeps it from being what could have been. A lot of it.

The first issue is the story and setting. Do you want Brown Age throwback graphics of one Cyrillic wasteland after another? Do you want a plot and setting that’s what you’d get if you prompted an AI to go “Make me a science fiction setting based on Command and Conquer, S.T.A.L.K.E.R, Metro, and throw in a couple of general cliches for good measure”? Do you want characters who are either dull or who you’ll hate from the start?

Then there’s the gameplay. Probably the most distinct thing about it compared to other XCOM-likes is that you have to scrounge and craft for items between battles. This is one of those things that’s a lot better in theory than in practice. Other than that, it’s a pretty standard “cover turn based strategy.” Which is a problem when you get into the final act and the game throws monotonous giant swarm after monotonous giant swarm at you. As if to compensate, the last few encounters and the final boss are anticlimactically easy.

This is a 49% game. And as the last couple of Super Bowls have shown for the team that bears that name, close doesn’t let you win. (Hey, gotta drop a football reference on NFL Draft day!)

Review: The Shot That Kills You

The Shot That Kills You

A short story centered around one of the most realistic and sensible Warhammer Astartes chapters, The Shot That Kills You is about the Raptors. As it’s short and explody, one shouldn’t expect it to be anything except short and explody. Which it succeeds massively at.

It’s good enough to wash away the internet cruft surrounding the Raptors, who are the poster child for what I like to call the “Gothic-style Halo” ‘fans’ of Warhammer 40k, where the setting is tried to be made respectable and its exaggerated elements downplayed in a manner that annoys me. Thankfully it’s not the case here-an Astartes seemingly flees and lures the overconfident xenos into a trap, not uplinking to his servo-skull drone and calling down a Whirlwind missile strike that obliterates the melee duelists.

Review: Flight of the Intruder

Flight of the Intruder

Well, I finally did it and read a classic Vietnam War aviation novel, Stephen Coonts’ Flight of the Intruder. The joke before its infamous film adaptation was released was “Fighter pilots make movies, bomber pilots make history.” Afterwards, it was “Fighter pilots make movies, bomber pilots make bad movies.” Having not seen the film yet (and not likely to sneer, as I enjoyed Iron Eagle of all things), do they make bad books?

The answer in my opinion is kind of but not really but also kinda? Coont’s first novel, this is basically Herman Melville but with A-6s. Read the long, long sequences of a plane doing plane things. The sequences of an attack run. The sequences of a carrier landing. The sequences of doing naughty things in the Philippines. You get the idea. Thing is, even though I didn’t really care for these, I could see the appeal, especially to a non-expert reader back in the past.

So this is another one of those “have I been skewed against this?” books. And there could be worse.

Review: The Machiavelli Covenant

The Machiavelli Covenant

Allan Folsom’s The Machiavelli Covenant is the story of people walking around Europe in search of a nebulous conspiracy. Kind of like his first novel, The Day After Tomorrow, where people walked around Europe in search of a nebulous conspiracy that involved Adolf Hitler’s preserved head. Here it involves the kind of thing that Jon Land would make and make amazing through ridiculous set pieces. Except here, there aren’t any and the whole thing has a poker face that would have given it millions of earnings in the WSOP.

Well, the set pieces technically are ridiculous, but not in a “wow a monster truck chase” kind of way. More like “ok, it’s the twentieth chapter of people getting in and out of cars.” It’s ridiculous in a not-so-fun way, not a fun way.

I truly believe this book could be a quarter of the length it actually was and still work. I hope it was due to some length obligation by the publisher, but given Folsom’s other work, I really doubt it.

A Thousand Words: Buckshot Roulette

Buckshot Roulette

A minimalist and creepy horror/puzzle/party (seriously) game, Buckshot Roulette is “what if instead of a revolver, you used a randomly loaded pump-action shotgun in a game of wits with a creepy big-teethed guy?”

While it might sound like a trolling anti-game, it actually works as a combination of luck and skill. Power ups can see which shell is chambered, can eject a shell, and so on. Whoever can get lucky the most wins. While this isn’t the deepest game, it works for what it is.

Review: Jaws

Jaws

Behind every good 1970s movie is a bad 1970s book. Perhaps the ur-example of this saying of mine comes in Peter Benchley’s Jaws. I had heard very little good about the novel but decided I had to see for myself. Well, the shark bit.

I recognized the prose style immediately. And by immediately I mean “A few paragraphs and I recognized the wannabe 1970s pop epic style right away”. Much of the book really feels like someone who wanted to write “‘Arthur Hailey’s’ Tourist Town “, with huge long descriptions of how Long Island resort Amity works, runs, or doesn’t. These are interspersed with long, almost Proust-esque descriptions of things that straddle the line between padding and pretentiousness.

Oh yeah, there’s a shark. Spoiler alert. However, there’s surprisingly little shark. There is a lot of romantic drama and legal drama that Spielberg rightfully threw into the chum bucket. Which is what renders the book nothing but a curiosity. The movie superannuated it. Completely.

Review: Knockdown

Knockdown

Dick Francis’ Knockdown is a horse racing mystery. I feel like I would have liked it a lot more if I was into horse racing. It’s a little hard to review because the basics are very good. I can see what it’s trying to do. It’s just there isn’t really a connection with me.

I guess it’d be like if I was a horse racing enthusiast and I was reading a mystery novel set in a conventional World War III. The basics are mostly good, but there just isn’t anything to grab. Which is a shame. Or maybe I just jumped into the deep end of the series too quickly. Which is still a shame.

Review: America’s Favorite Son

GG Allin: America’s Favorite Son

The semi-autobiography (it’s a long story) of infamous “punk rocker” GG Allin , America’s Favorite Son is a look into the life and mind of someone who was legitimately not well. Going up to the “Ann Arbor Incident” which resulted in his longest of many prison sentences, the book is honestly disturbing. It does show Allin’s appeal, which was in the same category as the intentional train crashes that Scott Joplin immortalized.

Allin started off as someone who made simple, vulgar punk rock before shedding what talent he had and turning into an outright freak long before his overdose. This book does not paint a good picture of his mental state, and it’s supposed to be sympathetic. But reading it is an experience. Just like watching one of Allin’s “”””concerts””””.

Review: The Last Dive

The Last Dive

Bernie Chowdhury’s The Last Dive is about one of those ever-evergreen true horror tragedies-a diving accident. With personal knowledge of the victims in the Rouse family, it should be good. But it’s a disappointing book. So much of it is basically an autobiography written in first person. Which is fine but isn’t really the point of the book.

So much theoretical potential amounts to just variants of “they died” (which is about as much of a surprise as The Death of Stalin ) . There’s also “other divers died in similar dives” and “Diving is dangerous.” These three sentences take up a three hundred page book. Which is a shame because the subject matter is so good that the book can’t be all bad. Just mostly bad.