A Barnstormer in Oz

1919



We return to Oz courtesy of Phillip Jose Farmer. Barnstormer falls somewhere between the convoluted sequels of the original books and the adult-skewed Wicked series with PJ's take on the land of Oz. Farmer sets the groundrules of his version of Oz quickly: Oz is real, but so are the books by Baum, who interviewed Dorothy and turned her story into a successful series of fantasy books for children. Where the original books describe Oz as a hidden land existing in the real world, Farmer drops a dimensional portal to transport his protagonist, Dorothy's grown son.

Having read the Wicked series so recently, I couldn't help but compare the two. They are both similiar in that they attempt to flesh out Oz with a grown-up dose of realism, and a blatant sexuality. But the differences are too great. You can tell that McGuire was either completely unaware of this prior version (likely) or had read it and set out to be as contrary as possible (possible). Glenda is very different, Ozma is non-existant, the politics are topsy-turvy, the talking animals are different, the Scarecrow is very different... you get the idea.

How to reconcile this in a crossover context? Like always- parallel universes of Oz! I'd feel more nerdy about this issue except that Farmer is the Forefather of Crossover Fiction. If there can be 6,667 versions of Earth as we know it, constantly diverging, merging and experiencing crisis that require artistic retcons, why not multiple realities of Oz, disparate enough to have their own warped versions of storybook and adulterized realities (let's not even get into The Wiz or Tin Man!)

The best part of old-school seventies writers like PJ Farmer is his tendancy to dissect every nuance of every character and situation. Sometimes this gets too carried away, though, and bogs down the pace of the story too much, as I've noted in my Riverworld reviews. However, in Barnstormer it is put to good use, as Farmer puts a microscope on the existance of Dorothy's friends. Just how is a talking scarecrow and tin man possible, even in a world of magic? Their existance is an anomoly, a fact that all other Oz historians choose to ignore.

Despite my inability to merge this Oz with other versions of Oz, or accept it as the real Oz as PJ might like, it's a great book with a nice fusion of post WWI warfare and magic, and is a great follow-up to Wicked versus the lame sequals from it's own author.

COO

There is, in fact, less satisfaction than one would imagine in being "let down easy" by the COO.

Let me back up a little.  The CEO is the boss.  It's a serious sounding title that conveys power and control.  When, in actuality, many CEO's are merely figure heads.  Boardroom puppets.  Stuffed suits.  The CEO of my company is a really cool guy who should be admired by all the pretend-faker CEO's out there who love to parade around like corporate peacocks and squawk quotes suited for inspirational breakroom posters featuring kittens or sunrises or the like.
And the CEO of the company I work for, is also smart enough to allow the COO of the company I work for, to actually operate the company.
It's the COO who really calls the shots.  Everybody knows that.  You'd probably rather play golf with the CEO. But it's the COO that you desperately want to impress.

And a couple of weeks ago the COO interviewed me for a promotion.  A promotion that I ultimately did not get.  And she sent me an email at 4:55 on Friday afternoon, asking me to join her in her office...where she delivered the crushing blow.
My cubicle is just 50 yards from her office.  Which was just enough distance for me to work up a recovery scenario as I walked proudly toward her corner of the office suite.  I smiled at the faces of the perimeter cubiclites as they watched me strut by.  They all knew.  But the folks I work with are respectful and they were sincerely empathetic to my plight.  As I passed each cubicle I expected the possibility of smug, unkind grins as they shuffled papers and rearranged office supplies on their desks, trying to look busy the last few minutes of the week.  All of them wearing coats, their lunch boxes and purses ready to go.  Or maybe they'd rattle tin cups up against the bars of their cells, catcalling, using mirrors to catch a glimpse of my deadman walk.  But they all ignored me.  Either they are all nice people.  Or they're just as consumed with their own disappointment as I was with the dismantling I was about to experience.

The COO would have made a job offer to the winning candidate on Wednesday or Thursday; and then made sure the offer was accepted before letting the losers know.  She would not be calling me to her office with five minutes left in the work week to give me good news....she is a decent person.  She was beckoning me at the 11th hour so that I didn't have to squirm all weekend long wondering about the result of the decision that she would have surely known that I am smart enough to have already surmised.

So I thought to myself, "COO....that's a funny sounding title".

More Remarkable Men

Forgive me, Devoted Readers of the Quorum. I have posted an entry to the sacred blog about mystic Gurdjieff's book, Meeting with Remarkable Men, but I neglected to mention the movie adaptation. And I even copped a picture from it!

Never one to pass up an obscure but strange and funny YouTube video, I ran in a running (and remarkable) way to the nearest Google Video search and immediately found this gem from the Peter Brook film.

Usually when my buddies and I get together, we have some beers, listen to some tunes and play some darts or other game. Man, what a waste! To think that all this time the gentlemen or their parent organization, PFAC, could have been growing out our beards and practicing this dance!! Dude. I am ashamed and disgraced that my friends and I are unable to reproduce this performance in it's full glory. From here on out, I will devote myself to learning these intense and mystical movements.

Meetings with Remarkable Men

1877-1927

Meetings with Remarkable Men

Hmmm. Most of the books I read are either books that I have hunted down because I read or heard something somewhere that lead me to believe I would enjoy it, or because it came in the giant load of books my wife bought the day she walked into a bookstore going out of business nine years ago and said "I'll take the entire science-fiction section for $40". This book, however, was given to me by a lady at the church I used to go to whose husband used to be a rocket scientist. Although he was as old as the hills, I had one or two conversations with him about sci-fi, and he was unsuprisingly very well read in the greats of the genre, and made a few suggestions which I can't specifically remember but am sure I jotted down and added to the timeline.

His wife gave me a stack of books as they were planning on moving away from the Aspen-Carbondale area and she just wanted rid of junk. This is the only one I have read so far, as it takes place at the turn of the century. I read it a year and a half ago, and it really didn't make enough of an impression on me to speak about it off the cuff.

Hence, my Living Social/Goodreads review:

I agree that many of the stories contained within this semi-autobiographical history are far-fetched, and Gurdjieff's tangent-prone style alternates between fascinating and frustrating as hell. Nonetheless this book will inspire every would-be scholar and entrepanuer. A good read!

Hmmm. Well, I liked it at the time, I guess. I recall that the book flows back and forth from essays on people the dude knew during his lifetime to actual stories about his life (in a mostly chronological manner). I suppose that any one who has lived a full life could sit down and list the most amazing things that ever happened to them, and a lot of it would sound far-fetched. I plan on writing that book about my own life one day. My recommendation is a bit vague, though, don't you think? Would-be scholars? Whatever. The more I stare at that phrase, the more lame it sounds.

I guess... don't go search this book out. Nine out of ten people who read it did not experience a miraculous change in their life, despite reading about a lot of cool stuff the guy did through hard work and persistance. BUT, if a cool old lady with an even cooler old husband hands the book to you and you find it in your hands one day, check it out for sure.

In my next post, we return to Oz!

Baltimore, or The Steadfast Tin Soldier and the Vampire

1914-1918

Baltimore, or The Steadfast Tin Soldier and the Vampire

Mike Mignola, or at least his flagship character, Hellboy, achieved celebrity status with a highly successful underground comic series which spawned a highly successful series of movies which spawned a semi-successful series of animated movies and Superbowl commercials.

Mignola draws equally upon the writings of Hans Christian Anderson and Bram Stoker to tell the fable of a World War I soldier who incurs the wrath of a powerful vampire. (By the way, you skipped that Hans Christian link, didn't you? Shame on you. Go back and check out that website. It's so worth it, trust me.) Mignola's recognizable artwork marks this as a graphic novel, but it is more of an illustrated novel, really. In terms of review, the novel hits the aura of gothic-ness it aims for right between the bloodshot and hypnotizing eyes, but it's format of seperate stories breaks up the flow and relies on a theme of overbearing misery which makes it hard for the reader to invest themselves at times.

In terms of my timeline, this book is my only mark of the first world war. That being the case, it's important to mark WWI as a time of vampire infestation and plague. And only 21 years after Drac caught a boat to London.

I know that Baltimore is reappearing in comics or other media, and I welcome it. Although the story is dismal and slowgoing for fans of Wesley Snipes at a blood-rave, the artwork and character of Lord Baltimore the Vampire Hunter is great horror-fun.