Old Man Ford Ride Again - The Lagrange Point Vol. I, Iss. 8

Welcome to the eighth issue of The Lagrange Point! If you aren't familiar with this budding e-newsletter, you can find out more in this post here.

In This Issue

Distant Early Warnings

• Black Canadians in film, literature and comics

Crafter's Corner

• Inquisitor 54mm - Tau do you do

Rantables

• Confronting the no-win scenario

And Lastly, A Word

• Attack of the aging nerd

Black Canadians make up the majority of the cool geeky content this week. Check it out!

Some more Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) highlights for you! David Cronenberg is back with, apparently, "the saddest movie he has ever made," The Shrouds. Based in part on the loss of his wife, Carolyn, Cronenberg's film follows Vincent Cassel (styled to look like the director) in the role of Karsh, a tech entrepreneur grieving the loss of his wife, Becca. Karsh designs burial shrouds that allow loved ones to watch their deceased family members decompose. Ick. An act of vandalism leads Karsh into a full-blown crisis. Cronenberg body horror and grief? Yes please.

One last TIFF highlight: 40 Acres, by writer-director R.T. Thorne. This post-apocalyptic narrative sees descendants of Black survivors of the American Civil War defending their farm on Canadian soil. It's a precious commodity in a blasted landscape where food is scarce, against outsiders. There's an overt historical metaphor here, with Black and Indigenous characters defending land they nurture and cultivate against "the outsider" who would kill them without a second thought.

I'm late to this one! Jamaican-Canadian author Nalo Hopkinson's latest novel, Blackheart Man, from Saga Press, released on August 20. On the magical island of Chynchin, Veycosi, a historian and artist, is trying to win a spot in the Colloquium of Scholars, but the arrival of a trade blockade from far-off Ymisen prevent him from embarking on an expedition. But that's just the beginning of his troubles, as children begin to disappear and an ancient slumbering army, frozen by Chynchin's island witches, is stirring to life — led by the fearsome demon known as the Blackheart Man.

And finally, in comics, acclaimed artist Ho Che Anderson is crowdfunding for his autobiographical book of sketches, The Most Embarrassing Things I've Ever Done. Deluxe editions, featuring a bonus sketch from Anderson, have already sold out, but there's still time to secure a signed copy of the upcoming book, which features drawings from Anderson's teen years, from 1986 to 1991.

My latest Inquisitor Warband is the only totally non-human group in the mix: a Tau Trader with his bodyguards! They're also unique in that they feature no conversion work whatsoever.

The first Kroot Mercenary uses parts from the expansion pack, swapping out the default head and arms, and giving him a new accessory backpack and pistol. I've never painted Kroot before, but I thought he should have an earthy look to blend in with his surroundings.

My second Kroot mercenary uses the parts from the default kit but I varied his colour scheme a little bit. Same earthy feel, but green skin instead of brown, and a pop of colour on his firearm.

The Fire Warrior is a fan-sculpt I bought on eBay, as there was no official release for a 54mm scale version. Sadly I don't have the name of the sculptor on hand as it was years ago. Quite happy with the overall look of him. The gun drone comes from the Tau Trader/Emissary kit, but I thought he should be paired with the Fire Warrior.

And that just leaves the Trader/Emissary himself! I went with a bright, eye-catching colour scheme to make him stand out amongst the much-taller bodyguards. I also used orange-ish colouring on his thermal-detonator thingie to match the Fire Warrior, drawing them together. I'm quite pleased with the result.

It seems I can reliably depend on Elon Musk to be the perfect fodder for content in my rants.

I've already gone on at length about how humanity's worst billionaire is an absolute void of intelligence and character, existing on his own hype, so I won't delve into that further. Suffice it to say that he has done it again, this time by tweeting that "Being a free speech advocate these days is increasingly feeling like a Kobayashi Maru problem."

As many, many people were quick point out, unless he intends to say that being for "free speech" is a no-win scenario (which, again, I have already gone on at length about), Musk has no fucking idea what the Kobayashi Maru is.

So let's talk about that instead. Because it is actually pretty interesting.

The Kobayashi Maru comes from Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. Widely acknowledged as one of if not simply the best Star Trek movies, the film kicks off with a bait-and-switch moment where all our beloved characters — McCoy, Sulu, Spock and Uhura — are all killed off, only for Kirk to enter, announcing an end to cadet-Lieutenant Saavik's test.

It's a simulation, you see, one in which Star Fleet officers are confronted with an impossible-to-beat mission: conducting a rescue of the titular Kobayashi Maru, while three Klingon battlecruisers close and immediately open fire.

After much prying, Saavik is able to learn that Kirk is the only cadet to ever "win" the no-win scenario. But he did so by literally reprogramming the simulator — an act of rebellion which nonetheless earned him a commendation from his assessment team as a piece of "creative thinking."

Kirk acknowledges, however, that the true purpose of the test is to have budding young officers confront the very real possibility of failure and impossible situations. It's a valuable lesson that can further weed out people unfit for command. There would be those who panic. Those who rage. And those who, like Kirk, simply can't accept death as a possibility.

That character failing comes back to bite Kirk hard by the end of the film, as Spock goes down in a tragic act of self-sacrifice (the needs of the many, etc.). While undercut by his resurrection a mere single movie later, Kirk's sheer stunned grief at losing his best friend is genuinely moving, and probably Shatner's best performance in his entire career.

Indeed, in Spock's final moments, he brings up the test once more, almost making a joke in his uniquely Vulcan way, as he asks what Kirk "what do you think of my solution?"

Ironically, the sacrifice proves the test correct in both of its functions. Yes, both. For though there is the key function of confronting officers with death — and Kirk is very much confronted with that by the end — there is also the slippery eel of Kirk's commendation (a moment which was upended in spectacularly stupid fashion by J.J. Abrams' film, which had Kirk reprimanded instead). You see, Wrath of Khan also repeatedly emphasizes the importance of "thinking outside the box" (or avoiding, as Spock says at one point, "two-dimensional thinking").

When up against impossible odds, the Kobayashi Maru test can prove fruitful for weeding out the testers who simply give up. Kirk never gives up. In the next movie, McCoy observes that he "takes impossible situations and turns them into a fighting chance."

In this respect, the Kobayashi Maru has a secondary purpose that I'm not even sure the makers thought of: to encourage officers to fight until the last possible breath.

All of this is to say that there will be times in your life when you are up against impossible odds. And you might be completely, mathematically, unable to succeed. But what matters is that you throw everything you have at the problems confronting you, odds be damned.

Only then may you truly live long, and prosper.

I took a spontaneous trip out to Toronto this past weekend, mainly because I had an expiring flight credit but also because it happened to be Fan Expo.

In Victoria, our local convention, Cap City Comic Con, was organized by a local toy store, Cherry Bomb Toys. In 2022, after the Con made a return post-pandemic, the Cherry Bomb owners were forced to move their business due to the owners of their building selling the property to a condo developer. This meant they had to quickly find a new home, funding to make the move, and they were forced to dismantle their free display of vintage toys, Canada's Toy Museum.

You can imagine the stress of all of that.

As such, Cherry Bomb Toys simply hasn't had the wherewithal to organize Cap City Comic Con, and I've been bereft of my convention-going experience for nearly two years. On top of that, while I did volunteer at Cap City Comic Con 2022, I was sick for a lot of it, and didn't really get to experience much. Between that and the earlier pandemic cancellations, it's really felt more like five years since my last proper Con.

And now I'm nearly 40.

So first, let me just say that I did have a good time at Fan Expo. I wholeheartedly enjoyed all the panels I went to, especially the Gunpla workshop and the Danganropa Murder Mystery. However, for the first time, I felt keenly aware of the growing age gap between myself and the median demographic who attends these events.

I know that we always say that fandom knows no age, and that conventions are for anyone, and I do sincerely believe that. But I think what compounded my anxiety was some interactions with friends in Toronto — one of whom was unable to attend due to children, and the other who I met up with and who was (I hope they'll forgive me saying so) clearly feeling pretty tired of child-minding in the moments I saw them.

I do not want children. And this has noticeably set me apart from most of my friends of a similar age. I'm self-conscious about this; not because I worry about "defying social norms" or anything, but because I do keenly sense the stark difference between the way I live and the way my friends live.

I feel kind of irresponsible, honestly. Jetting off to foreign countries at a moment's notice, recklessly hurling money that could go to a mortgage on ephemeral pleasures, and yes, attending a convention where I had deep conversations on anime with people literally half my age.

It wouldn't necessarily feel like an issue if I didn't crave the social aspect of convention-going. I like geeking out over things with other people. I like sharing common interests, even with strangers. I like seeing the joy and enthusiasm of fans dressing up as beloved characters, buying artwork, and generally just sharing in something wonderful.

I don't love feeling like I'm turning into that weird old guy who butts into the Gen Z group chat with outdated memes like "All Your Base Are Belong to Us." (I even wore my Trogdor shirt, you guys, and I think only one person mentioned it).

Is there a point at which it genuinely is just too weird for an old man — particularly a SINGLE old man, ew — to be at a comic convention? Is there a future in which I just don't get to access that joyful fandom, as it leaves me behind?

I don't know. I did have fun at Fan Expo. But I'd be lying if I didn't say there was a tinge of melancholy attached to it — the ultimate nostalgia trip.

That wraps up the eighth issue of The Lagrange Point! If you enjoyed this little e-newsletter, please consider subscribing, or, if you're already subscribed, sharing it with a friend or family member!

I can't grow this e-newsletter alone. I need lots of mouths spreading lots of words about why people should read The Lagrange Point.

Until next Monday, thank you for reading!

-Tim