It's Alive! It's Alive!

Following up on last week's post, let us consider the mashup, in which different popculture concepts and characters--sometimes very different--are brought together to make something coherent and new. In a sense the mashup is a continuation of Modernism, although we can also argue that the current manifestation of it is Postmodern. (Ha, I said the "P" word and gave you hives). The expression of the mashup dynamic most people are probably familiar with is mashup music, a.k.a.  "bastard pop," but the concept of the mashup is more common than that, and even in the sleepy and oft-moribund world of librarianship the mashup is appearing, albeit as a mix of both content and technology. (All part of the loathesome "Library 2.0" movement, about which the less said, the better). The particular kind of mashup I'm interested in is the literary version of it: the crossover.

Now, I've written on crossovers before, and if you're interested in reading 3700+ words on the taxonomy and literary history of the concept of the crossover, here you go. (As for why I slighted Kim Newman in that essay...you got me. I was younger then, only 35, I didn't know what I was doing, and I can only offer apologies to him). The shorter version of that essay is that there are nine kinds of crossovers, in roughly chronological order:

1. Synthesis of pre-existing legends (Greek Myths)


2. Ongoing Fictional Universes (the novels of Honoré de Balzac & Jules Verne)


3. The Series Crossover (Late 19th/early 20th century series characters appearing in each other's work)


4. The Jam Session (when characters from different creators are brought together in a story by another creator)


5. The Afterlife Crossover (John Kendrick Bangs' The Houseboat on the River Styx)


6. Real People, Fictional Stories (Thomas Byrnes, Commissioner of the N.Y.P.D., appearing in almost a dozen different dime novel series and giving the protagonist orders in each dime novel)


7. Foreign Crossovers (the vast number of crossovers appearing in the pulps published outside of America after 1908).


8. The Ongoing Crossover (All-Star Comics #3 and every commercially viable vehicle which is a team-up).


9. The All-Encompassing Crossover (Philip Jose Farmer's Wold Newton Universe, Kim Newman's work, Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentlemen).

Obviously the impulse toward mixing and matching other people's characters and concepts, and coming up with something distinctive, is as old as popular culture itself. Nonetheless, there's a feeling that the modern version, the All-Encompassing Crossover--which is to say, the mashup--is more common now than it used to be, and that the most recent versions of mashups, in things like Harvey Birdman and The Venture Brothers, are high points.

Not so. I mean, my wife and I love both shows, but--the history of the mashup does not begin at a low point and work its way up to Our Glorious Modern Selves. Mashups have always had high points--from my perspective, it's been composed of high points, with only minute variations of quality. Consider:

As David A. Brewer demonstrates in his The Afterlife of Character, 1726-1825, British readers in the eighteenth century habitually invented and published sequels for their favorite characters. This was after the Statute of Anne, which is generally seen as the first modern copyright law, but, as is usually the case with intellectual property laws, the law went one way and the sentiment (and publications) of the people went another. The result, as Brewer shows (disclaimer time: my Heroes and Monsters is cited in the book), was a vigorous outpouring of unauthorized (but popular) "further adventures of." The one that caught my eye was George Sackville Carey's Shakespeare's Jubilee, A Masque (1769), in which Falstaff is "charm-call'd from his quiet grave" to attend the 1769 Stratford Jubilee. Poor fat Jack is taunted by Oberon and Puck and kidnapped by the witches from Macbeth, but eventually allowed to march in the Jubilee progression alongside Caliban, Pistol, and the rest of Shakespeare's best characters.

In 1912 and 1915 Carolyn Wells published two stories: "The Adventure of the Mona Lisa" (The Century Magazine, Jan. 1912) and "The Adventure of the Clothes-Line" (The Century, May 1915). These stories  featured The International Society of Infallible Detectives, whose members solve the crimes of the theft of the "Mona Lisa" and the mystery of a woman seen hanging from a clothes-line. The members of the International Society? Sherlock Holmes; Jacques Futrelle's Professor Van Dusen, a.k.a. "The Thinking Machine;" E.W. Hornung's A.J. Raffles; Maurice LeBlanc’s Arsène Lupin; Edgar Allan Poe's C. Auguste Dupin; Emile Gaboriau's M. Lecoq; E.C. Bentley's Philip Trent; Anna Katherine Green's Ebenezer Gryce; Francis Lynde's Calvin "Scientific" Sprague; MacHarg & Balmer's Luther Trant; Arthur Reeve's Craig Kennedy; Gaston Leroux's Rouletabille; and M. Vidocq.

You may or may not be familiar with the singular Maurice Richardson, creator of Engelbrecht the Dwarf, the surrealist boxer. If not--and, trust me, you should be, since any writer who can generate encomiums from both Mike Moorcock and Alexander Cockburn is worth looking into--then, please, do yourself a favor and buy the Savoy Books edition of Richardson's masterpiece, The Exploits of Engelbrecht. You won't regret it. (It's even got illustrations and design by John Coulthart--what more do you want?). Richardson also wrote "The Unquiet Wedding" (Lilliput, Oct. 1948, reprinted in The Exploits of Engelbrecht), in which Dracula's Daughter and the Son of Frankenstein are to wed. Dialogue and walk-ons follow from Prof. Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, Detective Val Fox (and his parrot Joey), Rin Tin Tin, Holmes & Watson, Raffles & Bunny, Bulldog Drummond & Phyllis Clavering, Count Fosco, Sir Perceval Glyde, Ellery Queen Sr. & Jr., Hercule Poirot & Arthur Hastings, Inspector French, Clubfoot, Grimsby Roylott, Lemmy Caution, Father Brown, Irma Vep, Philip Marlowe, Sam Spade, and The Beetle.

Finally, there is the Mexican film industry during the 1950s and 1960s. This site has a good rundown of the gloriously gonzo plots of the films, and among them you'll find such gems as a comedian fighting a mad scientist who has revived the Mummy, the Wolfman, Frankenstein, and a vampire, and La Llorona, Samson, Don Quixote and Romeo & Juilet trying to prevent their haunted house from being converted into a radio station. Better still, there are the luchador films, in which, just like in the wrestling ring, any luchador can team-up with or fight anyone else, with the end result being a wonderful collage of crossovers over the course of decades.

Perhaps the ultimate in this--and I know for certain that Alan Moore would agree with me on this, if only he knew about it--is this:



It's the Justice League of Luchadors, from Mil Mascaras vs. the Aztec Mummy. Those are every major luchador hero from the past sixty years, in one awe-inspiring lineup. Mil Mascaras is the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Anno Dracula, and All-Star Comics #3 rolled into one. Mil Mascaras, I dub thee King of Mashups.

(But it's not available on Netflix yet, damn it).

Scenes from Scooter's secret wars in Hyperreality

In the game room of level B-3 of the apocalypse-proofed sub-basement at Camp David, the Vice President sat in the warmth of the fire with a tumbler of Glenlivet rocks and admired the newest addition to the trophies hanging on the wall. Between T.R.'s bison head, a D K E fraternity paddle, and a carefully embalmed extraterrestrial biological entity, stretched eight feet of canvas featuring a scene from a geopolitical fever dream.

"Scooter, you've got to come in here and check this out," hollered the Veep to his chief staffer.

Envision this: The Giant White King, an albino sword and sorcery simulacrum of the American President, lies recumbent on the pillowed daybed throne of his private sanctum, framed by a Tolkienesque map of his new empire of the imagination. His imperial pets surround him on the marbled floor, a menagerie of Moreauvian anthromorphs with facial features redolent of barely-remembered newspaper photographs of minor autocrats. Spotted little cat-men, a talking pig, a litter of mangy dog-men, all effusing well-fed supplication.

And stretched across the King's lap is the Leader, re-imagined as a freshly shampooed leonine bodybuilder, bushy tail curled up between his legs, eyes half-closed, whiskers signaling a submissive smile of pleasure. The King strokes the lion-man's belly with one hand; the other holds a leash of silver chain. The King's armory of magical blades is arrayed nearby, ready for use as needed.

"Remember Womack?" asked the Vice President.

"Isn't he the special ops wacko who started jamming Orrin Hatch gospel videos over Saudi national television?"

"Among other bad career moves."

"I thought he got reassigned."

"Yeah, but he's still on the team. Need to keep a fruitcake like that around for the oddjobs that require that rare postmodern sensibility they don't teach at West Point. Like this."

"Kind of weird stuff, if you ask me," said Scooter.

"I know. But it grows on you. It's supposed to be en route to the Leader's weekend retreat, but I thought the Boss might benefit from having it around for a while. Let the idea sink in a bit, if you know what I mean."

Scooter mixed himself a Tanqueray and tonic, leaned up against the billiard table, and took in the work. In the background, one of Nixon's old Martin Denny records played on the hi-fi at low volume.

"I mean, I'm not much for the science fiction thing," said Scooter, "but he does have a nice brush stroke. And you know, that looks just like…"

"Bingo. You're a little slow today. Take a closer look at the other faces."

Scooter walked up, squinted, and then stepped back.

"I'll be damned," he said. "How about that. Looks like last year's Arab League meeting."

"Yeah. You should have seen it before. The original version was a little too anatomically correct, and we had to have it touched up a bit. Never know when the Attorney General might drop in."

"No kidding. Got a title?"

"Tyrant Odalisque."

"Which one's the tyrant?" asked Scooter.

"Very funny."

"Speaking of tyrants, I'm going to head back up to the War Room and see what's happening," said Scooter.

"Screw that," said the Veep. "Rack 'em up and tap the keg. I can hear Marine One chopping in now. It's party time."

As his cyborg heart thumped in mellow sync with the distant helicopter blades, the Vice President sat back, admired Endora's work, and got to thinking it would look very nice on the wall of his favorite undisclosed secure location.

-- From "Script-Doctoring the Apocalypse," published in The Infinite Matrix (2003).

Le mort de Baudrillard n'a pas eu lieu

"Pataphysicien à 20 ans; situationniste à 30; utopiste à 40 ans; transversal à 50; viral et métaleptique à 60."

-- Jean Baudrillard (1929-2007)

As cogently noted by Simon Sellars at Ballardian, Baudrillard had prescient observations about science fiction as the only true literature of the hyperreal present:

"We can no longer imagine other universes; and the gift of transcendence has been taken from us as well. Classic SF was one of expanding universes: it found its calling in narratives of space exploration, coupled with more terrestrial forms of exploration and colonization indigenous to the 19th and 20th centuries. There is no cause-effect relationship to be seen here. Not simply because, today, terrestrial space has been virtually completely encoded, mapped, inventoried, saturated; has in some sense been shrunk by globalization; has become a collective marketplace not only for products but also for values, signs, and models, thereby leaving no room any more for the imaginary. It is not exactly because of all this that the exploratory universe (technical, mental, cosmic) of SF has also stopped functioning. But the two phenomena are closely linked, and they are two aspects of the same general evolutionary process: a period of implosion, after centuries of explosion and expansion. When a system reaches its limits, its own saturation point, a reversal begins to takes place. And something happens also to the imagination.

"Until now, we have always had large reserves of the imaginary, because the coefficient of reality is proportional to the imaginary, which provides the former with its specific gravity. This is also true of geographical and space exploration: when there is no more virgin ground left to the imagination, when the map covers all the territory, something like the reality principle disappears. The conquest of space constitutes, in this sense, an irreversible threshold which effects the loss of terrestrial coordinates and referentiality. Reality, as an internally coherent and limited universe, begins to hemorrhage when its limits are stretched to infinity. The conquest of space, following the conquest of the planet, promotes either the de-realizing of human space, or the reversion of it into a simulated hyperreality. Witness, for example, this two-room apartment with kitchen and bath launched into orbit with the last Moon capsule (raised to the power of space, one might say); the perceived ordinariness of a terrestrial habitat then assumes the values of the cosmic and its hypostasis in Space, the satellization of the real in the transcendence of Space—it is the end of metaphysics, the end of fantasy, the end of SF. The era of hyperreality has begun.

"From this point on, something must change: the projection, the extrapolation, this sort of pantographic exuberance which made up the charm of SF are now no longer possible. It is no longer possible to manufacture the unreal from the real, to create the imaginary from the data of reality. The process will be rather the reverse: to put in place "decentered" situations, models of simulation, and then to strive to give them the colors of the real, the banal, the lived; to reinvent the real as fiction, precisely because the real has disappeared from our lives. A hallucination of the real, of the lived, of the everyday—but reconstituted, sometimes even unto its most disconcertingly unusual details, recreated like an animal park or a botanical garden, presented with transparent precision, but totally lacking substance, having been derealized and hyperrealized."


-- Jean Baudrillard, "Simulacra and Science Fiction," Science Fiction Studies (Nov. 1991)

Avant-Pop, with instruments

If Bill Evans grew up in the Corn Belt watching reruns and listening to FM radio, he might have had something to add to The Bad Plus. Maybe it's a Midwestern thing, but in my book you can't beat these guys for the perfect cocktail of earnest irony (with solid musical craft). The single cover on their last album, "(Theme From) Chariots of Fire," exploded that Vangelis craptacular into a resonant manifesto of identity like Paul Harvey channeling Hamid Drake. Now, a "massively deconstructed version of Rush's 'Tom Sawyer'"? If only one could produce the literary equivalent of such nuggets of post-pop genius.



The Bad Plus Announce May 8 Release of 'PROG'

Do The Math and Heads Up International are proud to announce the release of the new record by sound-pioneering trio The Bad Plus. Entitled "PROG," the record will be released on May 8.

Neither progressive jazz nor progressive rock, "PROG" is the first record on the band's own imprint Do The Math, and it firmly keeps the band on its iconoclastic trajectory, forging a sound that defies any easy definitions or categories. "PROG" is the group's fifth studio album, following 2001's The Bad Plus (Fresh Sounds); 2003's These Are The Vistas; 2004's Grammy-nominated Give; and 2005's Suspicious Activity (all three on Columbia/Sony).

The Bad Plus hovers in a singular space between indie rock, postmodern jazz and intelligent pop. The trio's highly acclaimed albums and accompanying reputation for adventurous live performances serve as a testament to their progressive sensibilities. In less than a decade, bassist Reid Anderson, keyboardist Ethan Iverson and drummer David King have forced critics, fans and everyone in between to re-think their perceptions of jazz, rock and music in general. The "Los Angeles Times" ranks the Plus "among the potential leaders of what might be called the Nu Jazz movement - an eclectically blended, acoustically framed, dynamically powerful variation on mainstream jazz." "Rolling Stone," meanwhile, heralded them in more simple terms: "...bad to the bone, hot players with hard-rock hearts..."

"Like everything we do, this record brings together a lot of different influences, without drawing any lines around one style or another," says Anderson. "We don't create barriers. It's all brought together with a very open mind. We'll try anything, as long as it makes good music."

On the record, The Bad Plus tackle four covers: renditions of Tears For Fears' "Everybody Wants to Rule The World" and Burt Bacharach's "This Guy's In Love With You" along with massively deconstructed versions of Rush's "Tom Sawyer" and David Bowie's "Life On Mars." As is now a Plus tradition, the covers frame the band's six original compositions, including the powerful "Physical Cities," a stunning new ballad, "Giant," the final installment in their paean to athleticism, "1980 World Champion," and the intricately angular "Mint."

(As if that weren't enough, they are Bill Crider freaks on top of it)

Ron Moore named SFWA Nebula Awards® toastmaster

You heard it here first:

Ron D. Moore, head writer and executive producer of the Sci-Fi Channel series Battlestar Galactica, will serve as Toastmaster for the 2007 Nebula Awards® Banquet May 12 in New York City.

Acclaimed as “the best show on television” by Newsweek, New York Newsday and Rolling Stone, among others, Battlestar Galactica was recently renewed for a fourth season and earned a prestigious Peabody Award for outstanding achievement in television in 2006 for “A belated, brilliantly re-imagined revival of a so-so 1970s outer-space saga.” The season three episode, “Unfinished Business” by Michael Taylor, is a Nebula nominee for Best Script at this year's awards.

Prior to his involvement with Battlestar Galactica, Moore was executive producer of the acclaimed HBO series Carnivàle as well as co-executive producer of the series Star Trek: Deep Space 9 and Roswell, among others.

The 2007 Nebula Awards® Weekend will be held Friday, May 11 through Sunday, May 13 at the Marriott in the Financial Center, New York City, 85 West Street, New York, NY 10006. James Gunn will be honored as the SFWA Grand Master and David Guy Compton will be honored as Author Emeritus. Other activities will include a group autograph session, SFWA semi-annual business meeting and panel discussions related to the writing profession. Attendance is not limited SFWA members, but registration is necessary for most activities.

The Nebula Awards® are voted on, and presented by, active members of SFWA.

About SFWA
Founded in 1965 by the late Damon Knight, Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America brings together the most successful and daring writers of speculative fiction throughout the world.

Since its inception, SFWA® has grown in numbers and influence until it is now widely recognized as one of the most effective non-profit writers' organizations in existence, boasting a membership of approximately 1,500 science fiction and fantasy writers as well as artists, editors and allied professionals. Each year the organization presents the prestigious Nebula Awards® for the year’s best literary and dramatic works of speculative fiction.

Bring on the cool nerds

In his introduction to Eileen Gunn's collection Stable Strategies, William Gibson, the Dr. Benway of grand masters, reflects on his yearning as a young writer for science fiction to be a next generation literary bohemia. I can relate to the search for a scene more indebted to the likes of Ballard, Burroughs and Delany than the rocket boys, and to the initial disappointment at finding it a challenge to sort out the kindred souls from the crowd at your local con's Saturday night costume show. Where are the beatniks of the fantastic? Why can't SF be the avant-garde? Where are the next generation Jonathan Lethems, the young writers who gravitate to science fiction because of the literary freedom to explore the rich, media-fueled kaleidoscope of contemporary consciousness in a way MFA program realism just does not?

Over at Writertopia, the hard-working Bill Katz has assembled a pretty good stable of just that: the virtual vitae of the hundred or so (!) writers eligible this year for the Campbell Award for best new science fiction author. A remarkable assembly of interesting people producing more interesting work, from slipstream to the hard stuff to electro-crackling avant-pop. Some I've encountered before, others are new, but they're all worth reading. Writers like:


Haddayr Copley-Woods, who spelunks the fantastic territory lurking in the interstices of domestic life like a next generation Pamela Zoline.


David Louis Edelman, whose postcyberpunk Infoquake is the imminent business thriller Richard Morgan wishes it could be.


Meghan McCarron, the suburban surrealist who sparked the Infernokrusher meme.


Kameron Hurley, with her two-fisted chick lit of the fantastic.


Lou Antonelli, East Texas (by way of Massachussetts) heir to old school penny-a-word pulp.


Marie Brennan, Harvard-trained anthropologist/folklorist putting her skills to work as a fantasist.


Justine Larbalestier, Australian master of realist magic and scholar of feminist SF.

Too many, like Sunday brunch at a fabulist smorgasbord. Eugie Foster, E. Sedia, Bill Kte'pi, Kaolin Fire, Stephanie Burgis, and even outlying oddballs like yours truly. Writertopia's portal is an all you can read buffet, complete with its own weird Muzak. If you're eligible to vote, you've got until Sarurday night to submit your nominations. If not, grab some Jello salad and marshmallows from the line and see if it doesn't taste a little different this time, bursting with cool nerd fresh art flavor.

Paean to Punctuation

Noah Lukeman wrote the First Five Pages – a Writer's Guide to Staying Out of the Rejection Pile. The title makes eyes go wide in creative writing classes. Editors and agents would reject a manuscript after reading just five pages?? Yes, they would, and here's why. It's a great book.

Last year saw the publication of Lukeman's new book A Dash of Style - The Art and Mastery of Punctuation. It takes up where Strunk and White and the Chicago Manual of Style leave off; it advises writers on the creative potential and pitfalls of punctuation.

Here's how Lukeman introduces the colon:

"The colon is the magician of the punctuation world. It holds its audience in suspense, waits until just the right moment, then voila: it pulls back the curtain to reveal the result. It sits on the very peak of drama, with all that comes before building to it, and all that follows a denouement. As such, it is one of the most effective punctuation marks to propel a word or clause into the limelight."

A Dash of Style is something of a paean to punctuation, and Lukeman makes a wonderful and helpful read of it all. Recommended.