Quadrophenia

He is, and by one quality: he has more character. And more character means more flaws. Kenshiro's basically Kung Fu Jesus and every bit too good to be true, and Jotaro is a stoic statue of a man and every bit as expressive (and if JoJo IV is any indication, he's better suited as a supporting character than a main protagonist; there's a reason Stardust Crusaders became the Polnareff show). I bought that and it's still on my shelf. Really gotta find the time to read it.

Oooh, if you've never heard of Skulduggery... Picture this. You know how Harry Potter depicts its secret wizarding world as this wonderland where everyone is quaintly trapped in a timeless state of pseudo-Dickensian England and it's all very whimsical? And you have castles and pleasant villages and nice little homes- again, oh so quaint. It's like if Hallmark did the world building. If that were the case, then imagine that the world of Skulduggery takes place in its seedy underbelly, where the secret wizarding society has to make do not with castles and manor houses or other such luxuries... they have to live in dingy tenement buildings, build underground facilities underneath wax museums and generally live in the seediest neighbourhoods to ward off the muggles. It's Knockturn Alley by way of Film Noir, dialled up to eleven. This isn't a secret wizarding society that lives in its own compartmentalized world, it exists on the fringes of society and it shows. Our heroes? Imagine if Batman were a suave Irish talking skeleton dressed like a PI and his Robin, his apprentice, were an Irish millennial Buffy Summers. ... And characters in this series have such awesome names as Skulduggery Pleasant, Valkyrie Cain, Ghastly Bespoke, China Sorrows, Tanith Lowe, Saracen Rue, Frightening Jones, Anton Shudder, Nefarian Serpine, Vaurian Scapegrace... Throw in Jim Butcher/Joss Whedon-levels of snark and self-aware pop culture humour, a good deal of Irish wit by way of Father Ted, and Sam Raimi levels of creative violence and bloodshed. Neat, ain't it?

I bought an omnibus of Garret PI, actually! Been meaning to get around to reading it, but I'm currently going through an anthology of horror stories centered around radio signals. It's actually pretty neat. And I say unto you, if you love The Dresden Files... you know what might help with that unbearable itch waiting for the next book? The Skulduggery Pleasant series. It's sort of like The Dresden Files' Irish cousin.

I know at least one person on this site who has the iconic "Dresden riding a zombie t-rex" bit from the series as his avatar, but is there anyone else here fond of the adventures of a Chicago wizard PI and his boon companions? Favourite character, favourite book in the series, favourite moment and favourite funniest moment, go! ... And who else is antsy for Peace Talks?

Hey, I've been there. And I'm still in the game if you need me!

Absolutely! Honestly, I only need three to five.

Well, there's my usual group, some of whom aren't as involved in some games as others... and I have been meaning to start posting around on the Order of the Stick forums.

When I find enough people interested.

Mistborn would be better as an a animated feature, Avatar: The Last Airbender style. Easier means to visualize Allomancy.

This company has been responsible for only... two good movies (Looper, Iron Man 3) and a loooooooooot of bunk. Oh dear. This is not a good batting average.

Personally, I'm not watching volume four until all episodes are available, so I can binge watch like mad.

I'd say the podcast is absolutely stronger. It's easier to be odd, surreal and whimsical in short bursts as opposed to three-six hours in a long, continuous arc. Heck, generally speaking, it's easier to run a slice of life narrative that lacks any typical three-act-structure...as opposed to a book that's, essentially, a made-for-TV movie set in its world that "does" have a typical three-act-structure.

I meant that as a further point in comparison, since the Doctor has technically committed genocide. Several times.

He's also an oddly martial pacifist who finds loopholes to beat the ever loving crap out of people (see: Kelsier).

And just earlier, we made the comparison between Hoid and Q for the whole "Storm Trek" reference...

This, this and this again.

"Crows" I like. It's better than "storms," certainly. Crows are a little more personal than forces of nature, crows are carrion birds, agent and of pestilence. If they're nearby, it means death is afoot. Your death, more than likely, to say nothing of the old symbolism crows had on the battlefield in ancient cultures. And given Alerans are the descendants of Romans, it more than makes sense. And as for Perdido Street Station, keep in mind ALL of China Mieville's work are the fantasy equivalent of grunge and punk rock: they're generally dirtier, proudly vulgar and they don't care what Granddad Tolkien thinks.

Also, this an excellent point, Mr. Rawrbert.

And keep in mind, fellas, "storm off" is an expression that already exists in our world. On Earth, it refers to anyone "who leaves a place angrily," in a real huff. So whenever someone says "Storm off" in SA it comes off as, "LEAVE THIS PLACE ANGRILY, YOU!" Which, as insults and curses go, is a little silly in that context. I get that in Roshar it's meant to be (as noted above) the equivalent of "screw you," but there's a world of difference between saying "I hope a meteorological effect ruins your day" and "Go f- yourself." At least the latter implies one is a masturbatory, narcissistic, pathetic wanker (and this bit right here is in response to Eki's claim "f- you" or "f-off" do not make any "sense," which I find slightly daft). Although, to be fair, given the nature of high storms on Roshar "Storm off" can be construed as the local equivalent of, "F- off and die!" But as Rawrbert pointed out, because we see no one react to Kaladin's profanity (and I use that term with the largest quotes) in any visible or meaningful way, it defangs any meaning or impact these curses should have, it's a crack in the world building that reveals its artificiality (as I said before, language and idioms and the like are organic evolutions, things that are difficult to effectively replicate through the art of world building). When it's just treated as a minor social faux pas, I feel Brandon's missed the point of good profanity. To quote no less an authority than Mark Twain: "Under normal circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer." Alternatively, a more contemporary authority, Mr. Stephen Fry: Now, mind you, Sanderson's LDS, he hails from a cultural group that does not encourage profanity and actively looks down upon it. It's reflected in his writings. You can, in fact, determine a sort of gradient moral scale in his works and where characters occupy what space from lightest white to darkest black and every shade of grey in-between by determining their frequency of profane language (exclamations, cursing, cussing, etc). Consider this: Lord Ashweather is the only character in the whole Mistborn series who swears like a normal person would, but he's also equal parts old school aristocracy and sociopathic meathead willing to sacrifice the lives of his own men to achieve his goals (subtle, Mr. Sanderson). His swearing is depicted as a sign of his callousness and coarse nature. Elend even tries to call him out on his language, to which Ashweather replies something along the lines of, "Then there wouldn't be anything fun to say." Which, at the very least, might at least be an admission for all of his negative qualities the man is at least an honest dick (as opposed to Elend's father, who rapes and tortures women who resemble Vin just because he can). In complete contrast, the golden messiah of the series turned out to be See what I mean? I argue that because of Sanderson's upbringing, we'll never really see profanity as anything other than a minor faux-pas that should be shushed down, as opposed to a colourful tapestry of expression on its own right. As such, insults and exclamations peppered throughout his work will suffer a bit, its why they'll always come off as fanciful yet defanged substitutions for the real thing.

As fantasy exclamations go, that one's not bad.

I remember that bit in The Truth. The funniest thing is, even the book itself hangs a lampshade on Mr. Tulip's proclivity for adding "-ing" to everything he said... isn't even real swearing. He's so dumb he just thinks he's swearing. (Also, always nice to meet other Discworld fans!) "To me, the point of fantasy swears (profantasies?) isn't so much that they are shocking or disgusting in meaning, but that they be recognizable as a swearword (through context in most cases)" Which is true, absolutely, but can't they be both? If it's "merely" recognizable as a swearword in context and leaves it simply at that, then it creates an odd barrier between reader and character. When a character is on the receiving end of a made up swearword or slur that only has meaning in-context of a made up world, it won't have the same weight to the reader as strategically employing the f-word, the c-word or the n-word in a Tarantino movie or George R.R. Martin book. The one exception? I've ragged on Harry Potter, I know, but to give the series credit? "Mudblood" is the best fictional slur in fantasy and science fiction. Ever. Sure, it's rooted in the quasi-harmless whimsical linguistics of the Wizarding World, but not only was it our first real hint at how awful the world was about to become for our growing adolescents (I mean, aside from the murder, naturally) Rowling managed to create a word so vile it could effectively be used in the real world as a slur. It carries more punch than any Killing Curse, I can tell you that! Think about it. "Mudblood" is a racist/classist double whammy of a dehumanizing slur. Not only does it infer you're subhuman, you're also "not one of us," you're a thing, you're an invader to an exclusive club and you don't belong, and you're poor. It's no wonder people react in-universe as though it were the n-word, mudblood is genuinely an ugly and heinous construct. The exact opposite would be, say, "Mud people" in the Artemis Fowl series, as the fairies use to derogatorily refer to humanity as a whole. It's so... vague and non-specific. At best, it comes off as snooty and pretentious, as the fairies are clearly trying to climb the moral high ground culturally, which is slightly undermined when most of the villains in the series are deranged fairies who prove to be even worse or more devious than any of the human baddies (with the exception of the titular anti-hero boy genius). Mud-people is meant to be a slur, but since it's so non-specific it loses any real power to the reader. It reminds me of that Louis C.K. stand up bit about how white people have it easy; the only slur we get from other races is "Cracker." "Oh, that guy called me cracker, aw, ruined m'day." Also, can I steal profantasies? Any who, I do wish that when coming up with expressions, curses, slurs and insults rooted in fictional language, you need to at least ground them in such a way that when they shock or disgust the character it shocks and disgusts the reader. Well, that's when you want them to insult them. In any other case, make sure a whimsical expression makes sense; don't make up gibberish when perfectly serviceable real world expressions would do better in a pinch.

Not necessarily. Certain words we take for granted today had vaaastly inappropriate or vulgar connotations decades or even centuries ago. For example, did you know the word "villain" shares a linguistic root with "villa," as in villager? That's because the very word "villain" was originally a derisive term for someone who was born to a low caste in society, someone poor. And this slur would be validated whenever a poor man would be driven to criminality. Today, we throw around a vulgar classist term willy-nilly to refer generally to bad guys. See also "idiot," originally a derogatory term for the peasantry who, for obvious reasons, could not access the same level of education as the nobility. So when we think of that old cliche of the village idiot, what we're actually referring to is the "peasant's peasant." Now we just use it to refer to jackasses. You see what I mean?

Language is complicated. Language isn't merely a tool for the self-expression of a single individual, or even a culture, it's an ancient organism in a symbiotic relationship with the human mind. It's thousands upon thousands of years old, manifesting at the earliest in our human ancestors through body language, ticks and guttural sounds they'd made with their throats long before they had the capacity for anything more sophisticated. But as humankind evolved, as it grew, so did our capacity for expression, for making symbolic links between an ever changing environment and our means for of making sense out of any of it. Today, this organism has millions of individual strains in every culture on the planet, influencing how we perceive the world, our relationship to each other and ourselves. It's almost awe-inspiring. ... Which is why whenever I see fantasy and sci-fi handle fictional slang, it, uh... it makes me cringe a little. Especially when the slang in question is meant to be an insult or a bit of profanity. Sure, half the time it's cute and harmless, and from an in-universe stand point it makes sense for a culture in another world to have developed its own idioms and idiosyncratic modes of language. Heck, that's even a minor plot point in Words of Radiance, since that exact thing is what sets apart any Worldhopper character from the rest of the cast. It's a good way to determine who's not a planetary local. And I'll even grant some leniency towards the Harry Potter series. For the first few books, where it's all quirky and whimsical as fu-(CAR HORN), having characters pepper their dialogue with phrases like, "Hold your hippogriffs!", "Son of a bludger!", or "No use crying over a spilt potion," it all sounds very quaintly British. But then as the series progresses and Harry and co grow up, it starts to get a little brazenly absurd, especially as real English expressions and even profanity start mixing about with the earlier mentioned fictional aphorisms. When you have Molly Weasley blast Bellatrix to kingdom come with the mother of all pre-buttwhipping one-liners, "STAY AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER YOU B/ITCH!" in the same universe that includes the words, "Are you yanking my wand?", I can't help but think it's akin to having your linguistic cake and eating it too. Like I said, language is complex. Every word we use, every word we say, can be traced genealogically back decades, centuries or even over a millennia or two or three. We use words that have survived the collapses of entire civilizations (hello, Roman Empire!). We have words that first began as one concept before picking up new definitions when applied to next contexts. Heck, even words that change can still carry the original connotations of their initial form. Slang, insults and profanity carry weight because of their linguistic roots. They're loaded guns, they should have weight, it's why we flinch when they're brandished and used. It's why George Carlin's 7 Words You Can't Say on Television is one of his greatest skits. One of the pitfalls of world building, in creating a simulacrum of a real culture? You'll never be able to do it. It's why we always subconsciously pick and mix different cultures together to make others seem more fantastical or exotic, so whenever I see a fantasy world try to employ slang that would have been organically cultivated through decades of use... well, look at the Star Wars series. The Penny Arcade fellas skewered this nicely. Gabe: This jacka$$ just said that something can go "through a ferrocrete bunker like a neutrino through plasma." I get it, man. It says Star Wars on the cover. I know I'm reading about Star Wars. It's like, do they not have butter in space? Or hot knives to cut it with? Tycho: Listen, don't get your mynocks in a... sarlacc. See what I mean? Why use cutesy, made-up expressions that have no basis in organic evolution of language... when we have perfectly serviceable words and expressions? Again, see Harry Potter, where we have perfectly acceptable real slang and real insults living alongside complete whimsical gibberish. Even Brandon Sanderson, our boy, has fallen into this more than once. When "Storm you" is treated as a legitimate insult in your epic fantasy story where men and women and children often die gruesome and graphic deaths... it feels a little silly. My head can't wrap around that cognitive dissonance. Storm you isn't an insult. It isn't even a proper curse. We use the f-word because it's the verbal equivalent to a knife blow; it's vicious, it cuts, it's designed to be intimidating or make you feel inferior or dismissed. "Storm you" falls under the category of "cutesy substitutions of real language." Which I feel is odd. I always thought Sanderson poked fun at this sort of thing before with Spook's street slang. It's meant to be total gibberish in-universe and out-of-universe, so when we find out it's treated like the equivalent of Latin in the Alloy of Law era, it comes off as a great big gag. I'm not saying Sanderson or other writers should write like George R.R. Martin or Scott Lynch (the latter of whom is practically poetic with his vulgarity), but I'm just saying that I wish fictional slang and expressions could be constructed a little better. I do feel that sometimes the slang fantasy/sci-fi writers come up is a bit... childish, to me. What do you guys think?

... Arnold Schwartzenbacca is my hero. I salute you, sir!

You know, I read that as "fairy neat" for a moment there, heh heh!