Review: "Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2"

GUNN, James, “Guardians of the Galaxy – Vol. 2”, 2017, Marvel Studios/Walt Disney Studios

My review of the first film in this series from the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) was certainly not particularly sympathetic. I’m no fan of slacker humour and these movies are redolent of that type of capering. As well, the first “Guardians of the Galaxy” (“GOTG”) flick was mired with poor editing and lazy writing which guaranteed that I’d rate it down. I rather liked the soundtrack of the first movie though, and that was some recompense for gnashing my teeth throughout the proceedings. Any review however, is going to come down to a balance between things that are good and things that are bad, coupled together by the preferences of the reviewer. I have many friends and associates who think that “GOTG1” was the best thing since sliced bread and many of them have told me that I ought to just chill, and enjoy the film for what it is. That’s a fair comment, and I have taken it on board; however, the fact remains that these are not movies for everybody, and certainly not altogether for me.

That being said, I liked this iteration of the Guardians a lot better than the first trundle around the block. In essence, my review boils down to the following two points: better story; worse music. There’s still a lot of broad, jock humour but, unlike the first film, it generally has a point and it generally moves the plot forward. The first “Guardians” was bogged down with the need to establish a new reality for the MCU and to inject a handful of new first- and second-string characters, which – arguably – reduced the story (such as it was) to a series of “Hey! Look at me!” cameos held together with a bunch of special effects extravaganza. This time, we know the characters and we are able to get on with things. And the major thing which we get on with, is to ask Peter Quill (aka, “Starlord”) a vital question:

“Who’s your daddy?”

The storyline of ‘Ego, the Living Planet’, is a classic of the comic series and rightly deserves its place as the first real adventure that the newly-established Guardians get their teeth into. Kurt Russell is an instance of inspired casting to play the self-involved sentient planet; not – let me be clear – that I think Russell is particularly narcissistic, but he’s a perfect fit as Starlord’s biological father and he literally vibrates with the ‘70s redolence of Peter Quill’s mysterious sire. Bringing him on board was a classy move; roping in “Sly” Stallone – as a “Tango and Cash” natural follow-through – was something else again, but more later. Kurt Russell is the natural good-guy from so many geek-essential films that we naturally incline towards him (as does Peter Quill) as the perfect dad. However, the trippy-hippy weirdness of his extruded human form’s home planet, along with the Jeff Koonz-inspired plot-exposition statues, lends him a subtly creepy undertone that puts us – and the other Guardians – on edge. Add to that, the choice of the flesh-crawly song “Brandy” as his leitmotif and you know at once that something’s just not right with this dude, despite appearances. (Seriously – that song is awful. Imagine someone singing it to a horse and replace the word ‘bride’ with ‘ride’ and you can see it for what it is – an anthem of the patriarchy.)

The other theme that plays counterpoint to this storyline is the notion of family. Demonstrably, it’s a bit heavy-handed – there are friends and there are family; friends come and go, family sticks with you ‘til the end. And there’re a lot of arguments, apparently. The Guardians are not work colleagues, but a closely-knit clan – this we discovered at the end of “GOTG1”, and it’s reinforced here. As well, we see that the Ravagers were Yondu’s family, before he crossed a line and was exiled; but in the end, we learn that despite his crimes, his family never considered him gone (although – it has to be said – they did little to help him when the situation demanded it). We learn that Yondu and Rocket have a brotherly understanding of each other’s motives; that Yondu is more Peter’s father than Ego; that the Guardians are Groot’s essential family unit; that Nebula and Gamora have unresolved sister issues despite reaching a greater understanding of each other; and that Drax and Mantis have a – weird – avuncular relationship. It’s ‘family’ coming at you from all directions, like the relentless gunfire and explosions that form the backdrop of the whole movie. Even the Sovereign, the notional golden bad guys of the film led by the viperish Ayesha, are a twisted, bitchy, in-fighting corruption of the idea of a family, just to provide some relevant contrast. And to cap it all off, the whole mess ends with Cat Steven’s warbling “Father and Son”. If it wasn’t such a thematically-appropriate term, we’d all be rolling on the ground crying “Uncle!”

Despite this, the film hangs together well. There’s a scene that I’m going to have to replay with the subtitles on when the DVD comes out – the one with Yondu and Starhawk confronting each other on the Ravager World – because none of the dialogue made it across the gulf between the screen to the place where I was sitting (I saw this on a VERY big screen). Between the faceful of prostheses that Michael Rooker was wearing and whatever it is that’s going on with Sylvester Stallone’s face, the plot exposition fell into a rumbling, occasionally argumentative, grumble that made little sense. I just assumed that these two had had a disagreement about stuff and I made a mental note to follow it up when I buy the disc. It’s eminently worthy of James Gunn and his co-writers that they stick so closely to the source material as to bring in the original characters and storylines of the comic series, but the ‘good idea’ of the “Tango and Cash” reunion, in hindsight, let them down just a little. In fact, it’s a great testament to Gunn & Co. that they are able to bring what is essentially a kid’s comic into the adult mainstream of the MCU. Kudos.

In fact, what with the upcoming “Thor: Ragnarok” the MCU seems to be more than able to blend the outré elements of the comics material into a real-world setting in a fashion that’s pleasing and – more to the point – believable. With “GOTG1” and “Doctor Strange” the boundaries got a little stretched and they seem set to get even more tested before we get to “Infinity War”. My fear is that the MCU might lose its grip on reality and float too far off into the psychedelia, leaving such down-to-earth characters as Captain America and The Defenders in the dust. However, we can place our faith in “Black Panther” and “Ant Man and the Wasp” and see how we go. They’re still doing a far better job than DC (who should just ditch the Justice League and focus on Kirby’s “Fourth World” material rather than further ruining the former and muddying the latter), although they should definitely drop Howard the Duck: he’s deader than Leisure-Suit Larry people; let him go.

I have to say that I was delighted most by the opening credit sequence. All of the trailers for this film showed the fight with the big Cthulhoid creature and I was primed to see this scene as a major part of the story. When it turned out to take place completely in the background of a silly sequence of Baby Groot dancing while the titles rolled, I was absolutely delighted. This is inspired and quality stuff – setting up expectations and blowing them out of the water. Take that, “Suicide Squad”!

I’m giving this three-and-half Tentacled Horrors.

The Devil's Knowe - Part 4

After this meeting with the locals, the party can make plans to continue their endeavours. Now that the the party has seen the 'Knowe up close, they might prepare for a new plan of attack; alternatively, the party might deem it diplomatic to help search for the missing child, Elsie. Or they might embark upon a combination of these two goals.

Digging In...

The party may have many different approaches to working upon the mound. They'll need axes, or mattocks, to cut through the hawthorn bush which covers it, and they'll need shovels to dig through the peat. Most of this stuff they can find in a shed behind the rectory. Any more intricate equipment, such as tents or surveying gear, will have to be obtained from Longhope, on the southern side of the isle - they can borrow the Reverend's Range Rover (or a horse and cart if this is a 1920s scenario) and this will take up a day of the party's time.

Once they have the things they need, they can start examining the mound. As stated earlier, the peat covering the top of the 'Knowe has been dug away and stone has been exposed in a scar from the top of the hillock to a short distance down one side. Onto this was poured some kind of accelerant and a fire started. Peat, being flammable, smouldered away and blackened the stone beneath, but fortunately a rainstorm put out the fire before it got too far advanced.

From their reading, the party should be up-to-date with the standard arrangements and construction of Orcadian communal tombs and other buildings. The Orkney Isles are blessed with a flat slate-y type of stone deposit that fractures lengthwise in long flat planes. This is excellent for building walls and buttresses. Most constructions are built horizontally, with tall flat stones forming strong uprights between which dry stone walls are built. In some forms of building - like Maes Howe on Mainland - the tall buttress stones are completely absent; however, often, a ring of tall stones forms one or two retaining walls within the mound itself. There are a variety of standard forms and they are as follows:

1. - The Maes Howe  Type

This is a central walled chamber at the end of a long passage, from which several other small cells extend. It typically has one or two retaining walls encompassing it, within the soil of the covering mound.

2. - The Tripartite Type

This mound conceals a widened tunnel of lined stone at the end of a short passage; the tunnel is divided into three by tall buttressing flat stones; occasionally, shelves are built between the buttresses.

3. - The Stalled Type

Whilst many of these communal tombs stop at just three chambers, many extend as far as the land will permit, into many further chambers; again some of these feature shelves.

4. - The Bookan Type

This tomb begins like the Maes Howe type as a tunnel leading to a central chamber; however, the dependent cells are formed by erecting upright stones for demarcation, between which dry stone walls are built.

5. - The Hybrid Type

This kind of tomb combines many elements of the other standard styles and indicate an interface between island cultures or the development of an earlier style into a more modern one. The best example of this type of tomb is at Isbister, the so-called "Tomb of the Eagles".

Making their Idea Rolls (or Archaeology Rolls, if appropriate), the party will begin to notice that there are some peculiarities with the Devil's Knowe:

First, it becomes clear that the entrance to the 'Knowe is at the top of the mound rather than the more usual side entrance; second, this entrance is blocked by three thick stone slabs, the sort that would normally form upright buttresses in a standard communal tomb, and leads to a chimney of stone walls. It would seem that this is a type of cist buried under the peat at the top of a small mound. The party may decide to open the cist - after all these are just small stone boxes which normally hold a single burial, or a scattered arrangement of sacred objects - and bring the mystery of the Devil's Knowe to an end. Or they may wish to re-bury the lot and leave the enigma until such time as paid archaeologists are able to investigate further.

The Search Goes On...

Some (or all) of the party members may have decided to join the search for the missing child Elsie, especially since their information has now moved the search area closer to the church and rectory. Under the direction of Liam, the searchers decide to walk along the glebe from the rectory and then fan out to the east, moving along the hillside and scanning the uplands for any sign of her. They allow sheep-dogs to sniff an old home-made doll belonging to the child and set off.

The weather will be drizzly and cold with a stiff wind blowing westwards. The usual fences and swamp need to be negotiated and soon the group will converge at the Watcher, whereupon Liam will give a cry of dismay:

"Someone's been digging here!" he will exclaim; "the Watcher's been interfered with!"

He will go on to blame the party members for sticking their noses in where they weren't wanted and he will rebuff any attempt by the party members to deny their interference. If asked how he knows the Watcher has been meddled with, he points to the gravel that covers the base of it - he claims that the standing-stone always stood on the surface and that grass grew right up to it; now it seems that someone has dug around the 'stone and hurriedly replaced the soil without regard to its original state. Throughout this confrontation, the Reverend will be strangely silent, seemingly embarrassed by the conflict but unwilling to take sides. A Psychology Roll (or an Idea Roll) will remember that he had freshly dug up artefacts on his desk in the study at the rectory. Some party members may thereafter accuse the Reverend of the interference and he will be in no position to deny that he has been digging there. If the party accuses him while Liam and the men are present, this will cause an irrevocable split between the Reverend and the villagers, who will lump him and the party members together as Outsiders - "ferryloupers" in the Orcadian dialect - not to be trusted.

To Be Continued...

The Devil's Knowe - Part 3

Now that the party has found the 'Knowe they need to get to work. This is as simple as making a few Archaeology Rolls.

Before embarking on a dig, the site needs to be mapped and laid out. This involves a bunch of measuring with survey equipment (or low-tech analogues) and marking out the location with a series of metre-by-metre squares with white string and pegs.  This may also require that some heavy foliage removal takes place, if bushes, grass or trees obscure the area. In this instance, the party is here only to ascertain that the damage done by the vandals won't permanently mar the location so a large work area is not required - they can simply map the part of the site where the damage has occurred, unless there is some other compelling reason to spread a wider net. Other initial tests that can be done are soil and water samples, identification of local plant life, and a check to see that no local fauna have been digging into the mound.

As a result of all this initial work, the party should be allowed to make some Idea Rolls if they've done their reading back at the rectory. David Fraser posits a list of seven factors that decide where the Neolithic Orcadians would choose a site to build a tomb or other construction. It runs as follows:

Factor I: a location some distance from the shore, near the top of a hill but with the slope blocking an all-around view of the horizon; building stone should be nearby and accessible and the site should be on or very close to land considered suitable for agriculture.

Factor II: a location on good farming land of the time, with podzolic soils developed on glacial till and with extensive views of the land within 5 kilometres.

Factor III: away from peat.

Factor IV: a location in a high position with a distant panorama.

Factor V: a location close to rich, established pasturage, i.e. near farmland.

Factor VI: a location away from gleyic soil complexes, i.e. land not used agriculturally.

Factor VII: a location with no extensive areas of restricted visibility.

Factor I locations are clearly the ideal set-up for a Neolithic building, but such spaces are not always available. Hence, the desirability of a site drops down the list until, if a Factor VII site is all that is available, that is where construction takes place. (Obviously, it was all 'location, location!' for the Stone Age Orcadians.)

Those party members who make their Idea Rolls will realise that the site for the Devil's Knowe isn't even as good as a Factor VII location. It's at the bottom of a small valley with no views possible; soil samples will reveal that the complexes here are gleyic - that is, heavy clay with no drainage; the mound is covered in peat; and it is distantly removed from any known settlements or good sources of stone. It looks as if the Orcadians deliberately chose the worst possible place to build. As the party continues to investigate, other strange features will begin to emerge...

Game Called due to Rain...

Before the party gets too far further into the examination, roll dice and declare that a huge rainstorm has blown in and renders any further activity untenable. The party should pack up and head home. In later forays, the group may wish to bring tents and establish a headquarters near the site, but for now, they have no recourse but the get in out of the weather.

The Keeper should keep in mind that the Orcadian weather is their best friend for drawing out the investigation. Any time that the party needs a break, or the tension needs to be ratcheted down a notch or two, the Keeper can roll dice and declare inclement weather in order to stage a time-out. As well, if the party ever really needs to have good weather in order to accomplish something, have them roll a Luck Roll (for individual actions) or an averaged group (or group subset) Luck Roll to see if exactly the wrong sort of weather rolls in. Have fun with this, fellow Keepers!

At this stage however, the party needs to return to the rectory, trailing back over the hill the way they came. As they head up the slope from the 'Knowe, have them all make Spot Hidden Rolls: those that are successful will see a small figure, indistinct through the rain, waiting near the standing stone at the hill's summit. They will gain the impression of wild hair and the unsteady wobbling gait of a small child before the figure moves off out of sight. Could this be the missing child that everyone is talking about? When the party arrives at the standing stone, there is no sign that the figure was ever there. The party can talk to the Reverend about this, or not, as they see fit.

Home again, home again...

When the party arrives back at the rectory, they find that the place is crowded with other people taking refuge from the rain. Maeve and several other women are busy making soup and tea in the kitchen while the rumbling voices of men emanate from the study. Inside the front door are stacks of gumboots and galoshes and the coatrack is heavily laden with mackintoshes. Throughout the building is a heavy scent of warm soup and damp wool.

Within the study, the Reverend and several other men pore over several topographical maps spread out across the desk. It's clear that they're talking about the search for the missing child - a girl named Elsie. As the party enters, the Reverend introduces them to the local men, particularly the default town leader, Liam Reid. He is a tall and imposing Scot with long red hair and a beard. He stares frostily down at the party and asks them how things are progressing at the 'Knowe. He lets them answer and then notes casually that if the thing fell to pieces, the world would be all the better for it. There is a rumble of assent from the other villagers.

Seeing the lay of the land therefore, in regard to the ancient monument, the players can respond as they see fit. The villagers regard the 'Knowe as evil and something not to be toyed with and little can be said to sway their opinion: it's clear they they disapprove of the party's presence in this matter. If the characters can reassure the menfolk that they only intend to survey the damage and restore the status quo, they will gain a modicum of acceptance from them.

At some point during this discussion, the party can mention that they saw a small figure up near the standing stone on the top of the hill at the far end of the glebe. This will cause some excitement and a re-shuffling of the maps. Some disbelief that so small a bairn could have made it such a distance will be expressed. In this exchange, the party will learn that the standing stone that they have seen is called the Watcher; if they discuss the possibility of examining it as part of their overview, they will meet some stern resistance.

"The Watcher," says Liam, "is the sentinel that holds vigil o'er Devil's Knowe. Bad enough that ye be messin' wi' the 'Knowe, but ye'd best nae mess wi' the Watcher!"

The summons to soup ends the discussion, leaving the party with plenty to mull over...

To Be Continued...

The Devil's Knowe - Part 2

Once the players are settled in to life in the rectory, the action can begin.

The next few days can be dedicated to identifying the 'Knowe and seeing what can be done about it. The Reverend has many local topographical maps and can show the party where the mound is and the extent of the glebe land owned by the parish. The weather will be typically Orcadian for the first few days, with blattering rain, fog and gales off the ocean. The group may well feel that a day or so poring over maps in the warmth of the rectory study might be a good way to start.

Glebe land is an area which is sometimes attached to a parish, the working of which allows some supplementary income to the priest in charge. In this case, the Reverend MacTavish doesn't work the land per se, although he does lease out the space for horse agistment, and sheep and cattle grazing. He explains that the block of land is long and narrow, running straight up and over the hills behind the church and rectory. he can show on a map how the shortest way to the Devil's Knowe is by walking the length of the glebe and then descending into the valley beyond.

At some point the party will be left to their own devices as the reverend and his wife Maeve leave to continue the effort to find the lost local child. If the party stays in the study alone for a length of time, they will notice some objects on the desk that might pique their interest (Spot Hidden Rolls): the first is a human skull, missing its lower jaw. It is very old but if examined closely, it can be seen to have been exhumed only fairly recently - traces of loose soil will be noticed inside it. The other object is a wedge-shaped stone with a hole bored through the centre of it, that has been broken in two: this lies on the middle of the desk blotter under a mounted magnifying glass with a small, fine brush lying next to it. It would seem that Reverend has been doing some digging recently.

Also in the study, it behoves the party to make a Library Use Roll. There are some interesting works here which may shed some light on the local activity.

FERGUSSON, James, Rude Stone Monuments in All Countries, 1872, John Murray Ltd., London.

James Fergusson was a Scottish architect with a particular fascination for Indian architecture. As well, he wrote this book which is a list of Neolithic, Bronze and Iron Age constructions known throughout the world. The section on the Orkney Isles details many of the sites that were discovered up to the cataloguing performed by the Department of Works in 1866. It includes a short paragraph which touches upon the Devil's Knowe:

"The Isle of Hoy has fewer stone structures than the other Orcadian islands however they might well be said to be of a better quality overall. Prime among these is the Dwarven Stone, a massive block of Caledonian conglomerate into the side of which has been carved a small tomb comprising  two connected chambers and with a tightly-fitting stone door. Not far from this is the ill-aspected Devil's Knowe and its watcher, which the local folk bestrew with dark stories of mischief on certain ill-starred nights of the year."

FRASER, David, Land and Society in Neolithic Orkney, 1983, Oxford University Press, Oxford UK.

HEDGES, John W. (Foreword by Colin Renfrew), Tomb of the Eagles: A Window on Stone-Age Tribal Britain, 2000, John and Erica Hedges Ltd., Guildford UK.

(There are earlier, and both UK and US editions of the Hedges book, if that suits your campaign timeline better. It was first printed in 1984 and re-printed pretty much every other year until 2000. It's now available as a print-on-demand volume.) 

From these two works, the party can gain many insights into the nature of Neolithic Orcadian society and the features that can be expected to emerge during an archaeological dig on the Orkney Isles. If the party takes the time to peruse these books, the Keeper is justified in allowing the characters to make Idea Rolls when confronted by certain anomalous revelations during their investigations.

After these initial preparations, the party should feel themselves ready for action. 

Out Into The Weather...

Orkney doesn't have climate; it has weather. When it's not raining, it's foggy; and when it's not foggy, it's blowing a gale. When it's not any of these, it's probably snowing. The party should be prepared for cold and wet. If they are lacking in wet weather gear, the Reverend's wife Maeve can lend various jackets, hats and scarves from a supply she keeps for emergencies.

Heading towards the 'Knowe, the party must first ascend the hills behind the rectory. There are a few fences to climb and, right at the base of the slope, a small bog might (Luck Roll) suck the boot off one of the party member's feet. The climb is steep and steady, but not arduous, although those with a low CON score might well find themselves exhausted by the time they reach the summit. The top of the rise is wide and flat and the views out to all sides of the Isle are starkly beautiful.

Continuing on, the party comes to a tall standing stone, its base covered with loose scree, after which the land descends into a low, wide valley beyond; it can be seen to empty out into an even larger valley beyond this, with dimly-seen mountains in the distance. Looking down into the bottom of the smaller nearer valley, the party will catch its first glimpse of the Devil's Knowe. 

The low mound rises up from the floor of the small valley and is obscured on the northern side by a heavy growth of hawthorn. From above, the party can see where the top of the small peat-covered hill has been dug up and they can see the marks left by the fire. Now the party can get down to business!

To Be Continued...

Review: Other Minds...

GODFREY-SMITH, Peter, Other Minds: The Octopus, The Sea, and the Deep Origins of Consciousness, 2016, Farrar Straus & Giroux, New York NY.

Octavo; hardcover, with gilt spine titles; 257pp., with a decorated title page, 8pp. of full-colour plates and many monochrome illustrations and diagrams. Dustwrapper. Fine.

In the last couple of years, elements of the philosophical world have drifted off into regions that would - prima facie - have little to do with the way that human beings think or how they go about doing it. This is actually deliberate and such musing bears the title "post-humanist" theory. For many these philosophical writings would seem to have a practical focus upon the ethical treatment of animals, while others feel that cogitating upon these matters prepares us for what they feel is an imminent alien interaction. We've seen that many of these philosophers are fans of HPL and his writings as they indicate a probable response to trying to become familiar with the "unknowable".

One of these writers - although he'd probably hesitate to count himself amongst their crowd - is Peter Godfrey-Smith, a professor of philosophy at the City University of New York and professor of the history and philosophy of science at the University of Sydney, who encountered alien minds while diving off the coast of Australia.

A longtime fan of SCUBA diving, Godfrey-Smith was invited by a colleague to visit "Octopolis", an underwater site off the coast of New South Wales. This place had become a veritable "octopus's garden" wherein scores of the cephalopods congregated to interact on a daily basis. Intrigued by their friendliness and their curiosity, Godfrey-Smith began to catalogue their movements and attempt to determine not only how it is that they do what they do, but how it came about that they ended up like this. The result is this book.

From an evolutionary viewpoint, intelligence - specifically intelligence such as that displayed by human beings - serves a particular purpose. There are trade-offs to having a big brain, things that evolution lets drop by the wayside in order to ensure 'thinky-ness' as a lifestyle. Godfrey-Smith argues that cephalopods and humans had, at one point, a common ancestor, from whom the attempt to discover consciousness, self-awareness and higher brain functions split off into two very different directions. Intelligence as we know it, he declares, arose in the trees of Africa on the one hand, and in the depths of the ocean on the other.

The book trails the evolutionary path of cephalopods from their inception, examining the trade-offs that octopus, cuttlefish and squid encountered on the way to their current status. Godfrey-Smith examines the fossil record to determine when shelly molluscs went from bottom-crawling to floating in the water column, trading-off clamp-down security on the sea floor for a greater ability to hunt prey; he follows the decision to forego a bony shell in order to increase mobility, trading-off armour for speed and predatory dexterity; then, having exposed themselves to the predations of others, he examines the development of camouflage and improved eyesight, allowing the cephalopods to see the enemy coming and to do something about it. The connective tissue between all of these bodily developments, Godfrey-Smith argues, is a huge leap forward in brain-power.

Not all cephalopods followed the same path. At some point the Nautilis split off from the main crowd and became content with a hard shell, the ability to jet along through the water and eyes of a somewhat lower order. Cuttlefish, on the other hand reduced their armour and also internalised it, retaining a small surfboard shaped "cuttlebone" to support their bodies. Squids and octopuses however, have no set shape, having completely eliminated a fixed bodily structure. Octopus, for example, are so fluid in structure that they can pass through any opening through which they can push an eyeball. To maintain some kind of cohesion, these creatures have developed massive neural networks that keep track of the multifarious parts of their bodies. Each cephalopod has a central brain, but also, each tentacle has its own neural network that controls that particular limb. The main brain makes decisions that can co-ordinate activity between separate organs, but for the most part each element of the body amuses itself doing whatever it wants. It's like your 'head brain' watching your arm reach out to pick up a sandwich without really being involved in the activity at all.

This is a very simplified view of the process which Godfrey-Smith talks us through, but it holds water in essence. Along with this comes a superior form of vision that allows the cephalopod to spot danger and co-ordinate itself for a response. Apart from being quite peculiar-looking, cephalopod eyes are very similar to ours, and this is another experiment which evolution has resolved the same way at two very separate ends of the Tree of Life. The odd thing though, is that cephalopods are colour-blind, which begs the question of how they can duplicate their surroundings so well, even down to the colour of the coral that they're hiding in front of? Colour camouflage in cephalopods is maintained by special cell structures in the skin called chromatophores which allow the creatures to switch colours almost instantly, but without the ability to 'see' colour, how does and octopus know what colour to switch to?  Well, it comes back to the massive neural networks in the tentacles - the main eyes of the octopus are good for seeing danger approach; the tentacles and their chromatophores "see" colour and texture around them in order to mimic them. Yes folks, cephalopods "see" with their skin. 

So, with all of these funky abilities, what, asks Godfrey-Smith, is the trade off? It turns out that with great brain power and chameleon abilities that even chameleons wish they had, comes a limited life-span. Octopus, cuttlefish and most squid live for only about two years. During that time they have to weigh up the decision to reproduce (which kills the female octopus) and do the other sorts of things that living creatures become fixated upon - food, security and territorial dominance. Cephalopods have an enormous capacity to learn and to overcome obstacles but they have no possibility of passing that information on to successive generations; in that sense, every individual cephalopod is a largely unique being, in no way dependent upon its forebears and owing nothing to its descendants. Of course, if they could pass on knowledge to their spawn, we'd probably be less sure of our position as top dogs on the planet Earth.

If the posthuman debate in all of its tortuous jargon is getting you down, this is the book you've been looking for. While there is no mention of Great Cthulhu or HPL between its covers, it is at once engaging and thought-provoking, and it will make you think twice about ordering the calamari salad.

Four Tentacled Horrors.

The Devil's Knowe - Part 1

This adventure takes place in the Orkney Isles to the north of Scotland, on the margin between the North Sea and the Atlantic Ocean. The story can take place in the Cthulhu Now, modern setting, or in the Classic era; it's not really suitable for the Gaslight time period. The party should have a track record for messing about with archaeological locations, or simply have a large number of archaeologically adept individuals on board.

Archaeological sites are regularly noted by agencies that oversee such locations and, if funds are insufficient to commence work (and they are ever so), the location is noted and then ignored until funds become available. Oftentimes, these sites are logged on a map and then forgotten. Sometimes, though, if threats appear that might ruin the site, money can be quickly organised to begin an investigation, or to repair any damage and re-cover the site until later. In the Classic Era of "Call of Cthulhu" that agency is the Scottish Department of Works; in the Modern Era it's the agency called Scotland Heritage. Any of the people who work for these groups might know one or more of the archaeological party members and contact them to get involved.

In this scenario an ancient site on the Orkneys has been attacked and the party members are contacted by their associate - possibly an old university lecturer or professor - and asked if they would like to take over the examination and rescue of the site, pro bono, until such time as funds can be scraped together. Obviously they are free to turn down the assignment, but the keeper should apply as much pressure as possible in order to convince them to take it on.

The focus of this adventure is an ancient monument called "Devil's Knowe" it was identified in 1866 and listed on a register of such features in the Orkney Isles and has since been forgotten. In recent days, a group of local people attacked the site, breaking it open and setting fire to it. A local Anglican priest contacted the authorities and the race is on to see what damage has been done and if the site can be salvaged.

Cairns and other Constructions...

In recent times, research into the nature of the Neolithic constructions on the Orkney Isles has yielded some hugely interesting material. Archaeological finds have resulted in new information regarding the tribal lifestyle of the local people on the Isles and of their impact, not just on the rest of the British Isles, but also the wider Celtic society of Europe. The main focus of these digs are the cairns - large communal burial chambers buried beneath mounds - that litter the Orkneys. These mounds have a large variety of designations derived from the local dialects - "howes"; "knapps"; "nesses"; "brocks"; "braes" - but the most common term is "knowe". Specifically, these terms identify turfed, low manmade hillocks, beneath which are found various types of constructions, usually tombs but sometimes houses and even whole villages. The most famous of these include the "Tomb of the Eagles" at Isbister, the village of Skara Brae and Maes Howe, an extensive communal tomb on Orkney's Mainland isle.

Many of these sites were identified in the Victorian era and, while some were left alone, others were interfered with by various over-eager landlords. The most famous of these was Skara Brae, which was uncovered by a severe storm in 1850 and which became the focus of an amateur dig by the land's owner. It was covered over and listed in 1868 with the intention of raising funds for a professional dig, but thieves broke the site open in 1924 and stole a large number of artefacts. Consequently, the site was handed over to the University of Edinburgh in 1927 and a dig was launched by the esteemed archaeologist Gordon Vere Childe who operated the site for many years thereafter. Likewise, the Tomb of the Eagles in Isbister was identified and left alone for later examination, but the farmer who owned the land, despairing of ever knowing what lay beneath the mound, taught himself the basics of archaeological dig procedures and launched his own examination. With no other option, the Scottish Ministry of Works scared up the money to add credibility to his endeavours. The dig is now considered one of the Isle's most significant sites.

The cairns consist of stone-walled chambers of various sizes and complexities and identified by the number of chambers they comprise. the most basic is the 'cist' (pronounced as you would say 'kissed') which is a small stone-lined box, in essence. The larger cairns are extensions of this basic model. The walls are made of flat pieces of stone laid atop each other without mortar and which lean together to form arched roofs. The biggest chambers are never more than 3.5 metres in height. The chambers are buttressed by soil and loose stones and are covered over with turf; occasionally the resulting mound is reinforced by one or more ring-walls of stone as extra support. This basic format - along with many other features of siting and content - has many permutations which will become relevant later to our party's investigation.

The Orkney Isles

The Orkneys are a straggling chain of islands at the northern extremity of Scotland extending out in the North Sea. The islands were largely barren and desolate before settlement by human beings in the Stone Age and their original character has been altered by human settlement since that time. It's thought by some that the early settlers came there to seek security from other warlike tribes but this is uncertain.

The first arrivals brought sheep, goats and cows with them, and later, deer, none of which are indigenous to the Isles. Seabirds, seals and whales comprise the natural wildlife. the various islands were settled by different tribes and loose allegiances were formed between them. A culture arose from this settling which had its spiritual and authoritative centre at Maes Howe and the Ness of Brodgar.

Most of the Isles are completely turned over to agricultural efforts of various types, either dairy-farming, sheep and goats for wool and meat, or grain crops. Fishing is also of importance. In World War Two, the Isles became strategically important to Britain during the Battle of the Atlantic and shipping still plays an important role in the modern economy. With the discovery of oil and natural gas in the North Sea the Orkney economy is largely independent from greater Scotland.

The Isles are exposed to various kinds of weather, most of them inclement. Situated at the meeting of the Atlantic and the North Sea, the confluence of wind and waves has led to treacherous currents and violent storms, such as that which uncovered Skara Brae. Sunny days are few and far between and even those that do eventuate are marred by some form of precipitation. This combined with the rolling flat landscape, punctuated by towering cliffs and stark standing stones, lends the place a mournful, wild beauty which few are unaffected by.

Welcome to Hoy

Our story focuses on an archaeological site on the western end of the Isle of Hoy south of Mainland. Hoy is largely unpopulated and given over mainly to agricultural activities. Towards the centre of the island are high rolling hills with steep valleys, ground down by the glacial action of the past. The main civic centre of Hoy is the sprawling township of Longhope on the southern side; our group will be focussing their activities on the northern settlement of Linksness.

Linksness looks northeast to the main island of Mainland and is backed by hills. Over these hills is a wide rolling valley then more hills and then the agricultural centre of Murra on the northwestern coast. The party will have to catch a ferry from Mainland to Hoy and they will be met by Reverend Hamish MacTavish, the Anglican minister who reported the vandalism done to the Knowe. The Reverend will be happy to put the party up at the rectory.

The rectory is a low rambling building to one side of the modest stone church which serves Linksness. There are rooms enough for all the party members (assuming some don't mind doubling-up) and the place is pleasant and cosy. The Reverend explains that his wife is away at the moment offering comfort to a local family who have suffered a bereavement. He leads the group into his study to explain the circumstances as to why he called them here. The study is comfortable, with a nice fireplace, and decorated with many engravings of standing stones, maps of archaeological digs and stone artefacts, many acting as paperweights. The Reverend will confess to having become an amateur archaeologist since his arrival on the Orkneys. 

Reverend MacTavish will explain that the local community are in an uproar because a small child has gone missing, last seen roaming the hills behind the settlement. Days have passed and hope of finding the child alive has rapidly faded. He explains that the vandalism to the Devil's Knowe, he feels, is some kind of superstitious retaliation for the child's absence, the site long having an ill-reputation among the locals. He explains that the Church owns some plots of land in the district, a glebe of land that runs up and over the hills behind the church and that it lies near the site of the damage.

If the party asks what sort of damage has been done to the Knowe, the Reverend says that someone cut the turf at the top of the mound and poured petrol, or kerosene, into the cairn from above, before setting it alight. He laments the irrecoverable damage that might have been done to any artefacts inside, but praises God that a storm arose and extinguished the fire before it got too far out of control. If asked why the vandalism would have occurred now, Mactavish states that the local community lays the blame for many misfortunes at the door of the Devil's Knowe, following a long-held belief that some kind of devil is trapped within it. Obviously, the loss of the missing child is yet another in a long line of mishaps to be attributed to the 'Knowe.

Some party members might scoff at this theory; however, the Reverend explains that many people in the district feel the land is cursed by the presence of the Knowe and stay away from it at all costs. He mentions the Dwarfie Stane, another Neolithic site on the island, and says that for many years, folk traditions held that it was a place to be avoided, especially on certain nights of the year. This chambered tomb - which is only about a metre high inside - is carved from an enormous block of red sandstone deposited by glacial activity millennia ago. It lies in the hills to the south side of Hoy between Rackwick and Quoy and has traditionally been ascribed to the hands of giants, although legend states that it was the house of a dwarf named Trollin. Recent research has noted the interior dimensions resemble other communal tombs in the Isles and the prevailing belief is that it was an experiment in tomb construction that was later abandoned. the Reverend explains that such legendry often accretes around ancient monuments and is one reason that he decided to take an interest in archaeology, in order to dispel the wrong-thinking.

At some point, the Reverend's wife Maeve returns home and greets the party. It's clear that she's had a rough time helping the bereaved and will be grateful for any assistance the party offers in helping to prepare beds and meals and so forth. With the onset of darkness (around 3.00pm) a howling gale and heavy rain descend blanketing the island in dreary meteorology...

To Be Continued...

  

Rip It & Run! The Time Slip...

On occasion, movies and books use the notion of time travel to create interest in their ongoing storylines. Sometimes this is annoying and intrusive, but sometimes it can really make the narrative work. Sometimes it can lead to intrusively-Meta storytelling where the knowing winks and nudges lead to much eye-rolling; and sometimes it can be used one time too many to wipe out some calamitous mistake that the characters have enacted. However, like many tropes and cliches, if used sparingly and deftly, it's all to the benefit of your ongoing saga. As usual, it's all in the handling.

As an example, let me tell you about a campaign I set up awhile back. I sent each of the prospective players a packet of information about a future world, a United Kingdom that existed under a totalitarian regime which was a cover for a shadowy Mythos dominance. This future UK had mainly 50s technology with some minimal (and heavily-monitored) computer hardware and the excitement of a limited and soon-to-be-launched Internet analogue. Life in this society was tough, with heavy rationing, competitive hierarchies in all areas of science and technology, secret police activities and the possibility that the next day your neighbours might be completely new people who - against all evidence to the contrary - "had lived there for years".

Into this repressive regime, I asked the players to invent characters, grouping them at a particular locale where I wanted the story to be set. I gave them the history of the country, as divergent from the actual real history of the British Isles, and asked them to work their notions of what life there would be like into their character backgrounds. In this world, a prominent figure had risen to power and used unknown (non-nuclear) technology to win World War Two and then take command of the Commonwealth and many of its neighbouring states. The US had the first faint notions of The Bomb, but there was no way for them to test it without the Brits knowing about it and exacting some kind of punitive economic or military sanction. And there was the stark de-population of the entire Indian sub-continent by Means Unknown to make them think twice. People in this Britain sometimes muttered in disgruntlement about escaping to the US and some notion of "freedom", but propaganda about America painted a twisted and very dire picture for the majority population.

Once we had our characters, we began playing and it was a couple of sessions of character development and establishment and of giving them just enough rope to start to get into trouble. The place to which they all had connexions was a military science complex in Scotland's Western Isles where they were working on some serious dimensional technologies, trying to break down the veils between worlds. At the same time, the Glorious Leader of the New Britain was rumoured to be dying and the (heavily-edited) print media was speculating, as much as it was allowed to, about "What If?" and "What Comes Next?". Just as things began to go pear-shaped, the technology glitched and the party was transported through time, back to a point where the Glorious Leader was just starting his rise to power.

This is where the campaign really kicked off. The world had re-clocked back to the "Classic Cthulhu" era and the the party had privileged information as to what kinds of horror lay in store for them. Initially there were many sessions of working out how they were to organise themselves in a time where they were un-recorded as individuals, and then there were a few sessions of philosophising about whether or not the time stream would play out as it had in their day, or if they were indeed in their original dimension. Soon however, elements of their previous history began to fall into place and it became clear that, if they didn't do something, things would replay to their terrible conclusion. 

On the plus side, the party had access to information and skills that few other people were even aware existed, even minor computer skills in a world decades before the notion. This gave the party a distinct edge over the Mythos threat looming ahead. 

This is not to say that the campaign became a railroad trip towards ending the Mythos Menace From Tomorrow. Standalone adventures and other diversions took place regularly and some of the Heroes From The Future even died along the way. However, the rationale of the party's existence was a nifty way of keeping them going and, more importantly, keeping them on track.

Another way to throw time into the mix is by means of prophecy. In another campaign in which I participated, Nyarlathotep opposed the party and, after we won clear of it, it swore that our doom would fall upon us "when we next met in Malta". Unfortunately, that prediction didn't come to pass before the group dissolved; however, you can bet that we all did our darnedest to avoid the Mediterranean island at all costs. And there was that time we started to run out of fuel en route from Alexandria to Cagliari...

Of course, this trick is all about positing a future set of circumstances and then engineering them to come about. The Keeper needs to play fast and loose between being too vague - in which case virtually any situation could fit the circumstance - and being too specific, whereupon the outcome is easily avoided. You know you've executed this trick perfectly when the party doesn't see it coming despite knowing about it beforehand...

Temporal manipulation can come about by a variety of means, through spells, deities or creatures of the Mythos, or artefacts (like Hermione's "time-turner" in The Prisoner of Azkaban). The main thing that the Keeper needs to pin down are the rules concerning time travel: will there be an awful explosion (and much cleaning up) if a character comes into contact with their future self? If a character travels into the past and treads on a butterfly, will it completely unhinge the future? Perhaps, if someone travels into the future, they are unable to move until the past "catches up" with them? There are all kinds of sanity-blasting options with this stuff. Just make sure that the rules are clear and consistent, then no-one has cause for complaint if the worst comes to worst. Troll though your Mythos source material for inspiration too - stories like "Ubbo Sathla" and "The Treader of Dust" by Clark Ashton Smith, or HPL's "The Horror in the Museum" and (of course) The Shadow Out of Time. 

And remember that the Hounds of Tindalos are ever on the look-out for breaches in temporal causality...