On the Importance of Fandom

[I ask] that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. — John 17:20-21

One of the important principles in Orthodoxy Christianity is the idea that multiplicity is capable of becoming one. Through Christ, the various nations of the earth become one church despite all of the various things that we humans do to try and separate ourselves from each other.

This idea of one and many exists in every order of creation from the most high (God is both One and Three) all the way down to subatomic where electons, protons, and neutrons are gathered together as the building blocks of matter.

I don’t normally lead with such theological musings, but I want make clear the persupposition for why I find such beauty and joy in the idea of fandoms. When a fandom manifests itself properly, the love that each individual has for said franchise, game, hobby, sport, etc. can overcome all kinds of differences we impose upon ourselves and each other. 

For example, the majorty of the folks who read this blog are not Orthodox Christan, and I would venture a good chunk do not even consider themselves Christian. Despite this, we can all gather in this corner of the internet and revel in the love we have for RPGs. That love overcomes the fact that we do not all agree about religion. It can also overcome all kinds of barriers such as language, race, politics, ethnicity, gender, etc.

To put it theologically, the unity that Christ gives us through the Cross, the Resurrection, and His Church manifests itself in a small way through fandoms. Conversly, the unity we find in fandoms demonstrate that the unity promised by Christ is very real.

As a consequence, I firmly believe that the reason our beloved IPs from Star Wars to Indiana Jones, to Star Trek, to Dungeons & Dragons are in such bad shape is the fact that the companies that are in control of these IPs have roundly rejected the fundamental premise of unity from multiplicity and the role fandoms play in overcoming differences.

Companies such as WotC, Disney, Warner, etc. have almost universally adopted ideas found in Critical Race Theory, Intersectional Feminism, and Diversity Equity and Inclusion. At first glance, all of these concepts are laudable. There is no question that various groups of people have suffered at the hands of others throughout history and that trying to fix the various problems that come from this suffering is something I would hope everyone is on board with.

There is one very large however here, though. All of these ideas are based on a dialectic — the Opressed versus the Opressor. As a consequence, every single one of these ideas requires division. Not a single one of these ideas can ever unify humanity because the smallest possible number in a dialectic is always two.

Thus, when the fandom becomes hostile to the direction a company is taking a particular IP, these ideas don’t allow for love to overcome differences of opinion. They don’t allow for fandoms to become part of the solution. Rather, the fandom is moved from the in-group (the Oppressed) into the out-group (the Oppressor). This is why fans have been accused of being bigoted in all kinds of ways over the last several years.

Those of us who participate in RPGs are very fortunate because the OGL was born out of fandom. It was designed in such a way that the love we have of D&D could empower us to produce a plethora of products for this hobby. We have seen the fruits of that love and don’t every want to go back. This is why WotC’s attempts to ditch the OGL has been received with such a pushback from across the entire fandom. At some level, we have come to understand that the unity we find in participating in this hobby at all levels is much more profound and valuable than anything WotC could offer alone as the gatekeeper of everything D&D. 

While RPGs are a different medium than television or film, nonetheless, what has happened in the world of TTRPGs is a blueprint for fandoms to move forward and beyond the dialectic being imposed upon us by the likes of WotC, Disney, etc. We can participate in our fandoms (and make money doing so) in all kinds of ways that don’t involve us giving these corporations a dime.

We have a capacity to be one. They have limited themselves to merely being two.

They need us far more than we need them. 

The Importance of Presuppositions

In my line of work, I have to be acutely aware of presuppositions (one of the demands of doing theology). Our culture does not do a very good job of exploring or even being aware that we make them all the time. So, a definition is in order: a presupposition is a thing tacitly assumed beforehand at the beginning of a line of argument or course of action.

Let’s explore an element of D&D that is near and dear to my heart, but is widely rejected by those who play: Race-as-Class. I think part of the reason that so many people balk at the idea of Race-as-Class is that they believe it fundamentaly prevents people from playing a particular race the way they want to. Personally, I have a metal figure in my collection that is a dwarven wizard. I love the personality that exudes from the sculpt. Race-as-Class seems to dictate that I can never use that character concept in my favorite versions of the game. 

What this perspective fails to see is the presupposition that must be made in gaming worlds that have no Race-as-Class: since the mechanics of dwarf and human characters are so similar, there isn’t much actual difference between humans and dwarves.

In contrast, Race-as-Class poses siginificant mechanical differences between the two races. The culture that arises from humans as clerics, fighters, magic-users, and thieves is necessarily very different from that of Dwarves. One is mechanically diverse, the other isn’t.

Thus, when I pull out that dwarven wizard figure the machanics of Race-as-Class put far more weight on my choice of class than the versions of D&D that don’t use it. In both cases, I will essentially be playing a human character; however, while the mechanics of a dwarven wizard don’t say a lot about my character, playing a dwarven magic-user that uses the mechanics of a human magic-user says a tremendous amount about the world, the history of my character, and dwarves themselves. In order to become a magic-user, my dwarf has had to reject his culture and his people to the point that mechanically he no longer functions as a dwarf. For all intents and purposed he is a human.

In both scenerios, I come to the same basic conclusion: mechanically a dwarven magic-user/wizard is essentially a re-skinned human; however, when one looks at the necessary presuppositions that Race-as-Class demands, I get a much more interesting re-skinned human — one that I don’t think I would have arrived at without Race-as-Class.

I say all this as a preamble, because I did something quite outside my comfort zone this week. Chris Gore of Film Threat is producing a new show on his YouTube channel which seeks to bring Star Wars fans together to discuss whether or not Disney has murdered the franchise. The format is that of a court with those who are on the side of the prosecution and those who are on the defense.

I was asked to be on the first show, because so few people in the sphere of YouTube Star Wars fandom were willing to argue the defense. It was all in good fun and I think the overwhelming consensus is that my side lost the argument (not surprising, since Chris Gore’s audience is largely unhappy with Disney Star Wars). I want to explain why I was willing to be on the Defense and that has to do with presuppositions.

While the language “Disney Murdered Star Wars” is hyberbolic, there is a necesssary presupposition behind that statement: Star Wars fans are beholden to Disney for all things Star Wars. I vehemently disagree. 

The presupposition that I make is one that I believe better reflects reality: Star Wars is part of our culture. It no longer belongs to Disney or George Lucas in any way other than the legal right to produce Star Wars products. We, as the fandom have far more power than Disney thinks we do (or we do, depressingly). The Audience is a vital part of any artistic endeavor, especially when it comes to beloved franchises like Star Wars.

Very few Tolkien fans, for example, would argue that Amazon’s Rings of Power has any real place in the lore of Middle-earth. Likewise, the fans have the ability to embrace or reject anything Star Wars. As an example, few Star Wars fans acknowledge that the Star Wars Christmas Special has any real standing in Star Wars lore. Yes, it is the first appearance of Boba Fett, but does anyone argue that the Mandolorian, or any other Disney product, isn’t following the lore established in the Christmas Special? No, because the fandom doesn’t care about the Christmas Special. It does about the EU and the many ways Disney has contradicted it. Despite the fact that Disney has de-canonized the EU, it still lives on because the fans have embraced it.

The only way that Disney can murder Star Wars, in other words, is if we aid and abett them by rejecting Star Wars as a whole. As long as the fandom exists, Star Wars lives. And, if the fandom wakes up and realizes its own power and importance, we may see a day when the owners of the legal right to produce Star Wars products will listen.

May the Φος Be With You

The only Star Wars product
I have enjoyed in the last decade

Star Wars taught me a tough but valuable lesson: just because something has a particular label on it, doesn’t mean that it is good. This lesson took a long time for me to understand, however. Star Wars was a huge part of my childhood and a formative experience in my life. One of my favorite RPG campaigns of all time was played with d6 Star Wars. One of my favorite computer franchises of all time is the X-Wing/Tie-Fighter series. I was all in.

I couldn’t bring myself to understand that the emotion I was feeling after watching Episode I at a midnight showing on opening day was disappointment. I spent hours and a lot of money watching Phantom Menace trying to convince myself that it was good. Then I saw Episode II in theaters at a matinee a couple of weeks after it opened and came to terms with the idea that Star Wars was no longer a brand I could trust. 

I had hope that Disney could turn things around. So, when my kids wanted to see Episode VII in the theaters, I went. I walked out of the movie with a feeling I was familiar with and now was accustomed to: disappointment. This time, however, I refused to spend another dime.

I suppose that is why I was so adamant to ditch WotC when they put their “warning” labels on legacy products. The disappointment I had when realizing WotC saw me as a racist simply for buying and playing one of the most important games in my lifetime was similar to what I was feeling walking out of Phantom Menace. So, I didn’t spend another dime, despite several legacy products being released in POD that I would have otherwise snatched up in a second.

The last several months have proven my instincts correct. WotC has rendered the label “Dungeons & Dragons” worthless. It seems that the shenanigans Hasbro has pulled have finally woken some people up to the fact that WotC and Hasbro are run by people who care nothing about gamers or the games we play.

I realize I am a small voice in the wilderness, but I not only encourage everyone to stop buying something simply because it has the label “Dungeons & Dragons” on it, but to create your own systems, adventures, and worlds. I can almost guarantee that whatever you produce is going to be a whole lot better than whatever WotC has put the label "Dungeons & Dragons" on.

BTW for those interested, the title of this post comes from the fond memories of an alum of my seminary who went to my school in the 70s. In response to the popularity of Star Wars and the Force, which from an Orthodox Christian POV is a dualistic heresy, one of the bishops printed up a bunch of T-Shirts that said, “May the Φος Be With You.” In Greek, φος (phos as in phosphorescence) means “light” as in John 8:12, “Again Jesus spoke to them, saying,  ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’”

Ever since May 4th became a thing where Star Wars fans say, “May the Force Be With You” I have gently corrected their spelling…  

Why Star Wars, etc. Now S*cks

I was one of those kids who saw Star Wars (before it was dubbed A New Hope) in the theater. I was doomed to be a sci-fi/fantasy fan for the rest of my life. I began to buy comic books. I found Dr. Who on my local PBS. My mom brought home the Holmes Basic Box set. I tried reading the Lord of the Rings and found I could scratch my fantasy itch elsewhere. I even tolerated watching Star Trek with my Trekkie friends. Though for many years my entertainment dollar has rarely gone towards anything beyond RPGs and war games, I am still a fan at heart and hope that some day there is a franchise out there that I will find worthy of my time and my dollar.

Unfortunately, companies like WotC, Disney, WB, Paramount, etc. have all decided that I am toxic and whatever is the most recent flavor of -ist this week. I want Star Wars, Marvel, DC, and even Star Trek to be good; however, I don’t just think they won’t be anytime soon, I know they won’t be.

In the past, I have critiqued various movies and shows for abandoning the Divine in their story telling. God is the first storyteller. In the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Old Testament quoted by the writers of the New Testament and the oldest version of the OT we have today, the verb in the first sentence in Scripture (In the beginning God created) has the same root as poetry. This version of to create is only used when in association with God, and he creates (makes poetry) through speaking, “Let there be light.” Thus, just as all creation was doomed to decay and death by humanity turning its back on God, stories are doomed to meaningless drivel when the storyteller turns their back on the source of all stories.

While I still stand by this critique, there is another level of horrid storytelling that has been cropping up recently that I think needs to be addressed because it goes beyond turning its back on God and turns its back on the human person. Let me explain.

Reality can be broken up into two categories: the general and the particular. For example, I am using a computer in order to write this post. Some portion of those who are reading this post will also be using a computer to do so. While the term “computer” helpfully describes all of these devices, I am using a particular computer and the reader is using another particular computer. All computers = the general; my computer = the particular.

The crux of my critique depends on the fact the human beings always experience the particular and never experience the general. Whenever I encounter “computer” in my life, it is always a particular computer. The general “computer” is an immaterial concept that, although outside the particular experience of human beings, is nonetheless very real. The general allow us to make sense of the particular. Without the general, our empirical experience of the world would be a chaotic string of ever-changing data with no basis for interpretation or understanding.

From a Christian POV, this is how we experience and understand the Trinity. The general is God and the particular is the persons of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. It is why Christ became a human being — so that we can intimately know God in the particular.

The reason story telling in the present is so awful is that the characters that occupy our stories are the general instead of the particular. Let me illustrate this my favorite literary inspiration for the Thief class — Bilbo Baggins. In JRR Tolkien’s works, Bilbo Baggins is important because he is a particular hobbit with individual quirks, strengths, weaknesses, and interests that qualify him to be the burglar that Gandalf chooses for the purpose of recovering what was lost to the dragon Smaug. If The Hobbit were written by today’s crop of storytellers, Gandalf would have chosen Bilbo because he is a hobbit and no other reason.

Characters today are largely just a collection of general categories based on immutable characteristics. While I acknowledge the reality of bigotry in the world — there is no question that bigotry exists and affects people on a regular basis — none of us have ever experienced “white,” “black,” or whatever category is fashionable in the present moment. We have, however, experienced particular human persons that have these immutable characteristics.

Herein is the insidious nature of the kind of storytelling we see in today’s popular culture, and why it is so awful. Characters are no longer human persons. They are no longer unique, irreplaceable, and valuable individuals. Characters are merely categories. As individual persons, they have no value because they can be replaced by another character from the same general category.

This type of storytelling can only produce uninteresting and valueless stories because the individual characters that occupy these stories have no intrinsic value in their particularity. As consumers, it becomes increasingly difficult to care about these stories because there is no particular to encounter — these stories deny us the very basic human experience of the particular that is our reality.

This also explains why it is so easy to label fans who demand the particular as toxic and -ists of various flavors. We are denying and criticizing the immutable characteristic — the general category — of the character. Since there is no particular and only the general, we must therefore be toxic and -ist.

All of this dehumanizes everybody. History has shown again and again that when we dehumanize the other, nothing good follows.

A Rogue One Rant

Recently, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story appeared on Netflix. To be honest, after enduring Star Wars VII, I was not particularly interested in this movie despite all the rave reviews. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get to sleep the other day and decided to see if Disney’s take on what has already been covered in Star Wars: The Original Radio Drama was boring enough to put me to sleep. I made it to about the 40-minute mark.

Here is the thing: all of us already know this story. We all knew going into the movie that rebel agents would steal the Death Star plans and get killed delivering this vital information to Princess Leia. If this last bit came as a surprise, evidently the pitched battle at the beginning of A New Hope was not a big enough clue, or, as I mentioned above, you haven’t listened to the Radio Drama (and you really should).

Therefore, plot was not a tool the writers had when writing this script. There was no plot twist, turn or surprise that was going to change the outcome of this movie. The only real option in stories like these is character development. In the case of the story supposedly covered in Rogue One there are three basic characters:

1. The Empire
2. The Rebellion
3. The Agent who gets killed

Thus, the job of the writer is to ask a couple of questions:

• What motivates The Agent to be willing to die?
• Is The Rebellion/The Empire worth dying for?

Answering these questions can make for a gripping story despite the fact that we know the plot. For example: The Patriot has a basic plot that we all know: the American Revolution. The movie, however, was not about the American Revolution. It was about how Mel Gibson’s character, Benjamin Martin, went from being a guilt-ridden combat veteran who wanted nothing to do with the war to becoming a Patriot.

As a post-Christian movie, Rogue One failed miserably on this front. While they did provide us with a bunch of cool characters, not one of them had any real depth and the movie never really bothered to give us an arc to understand why these people were willing to die for the Rebellion. Further, the portrayal of the other two main characters (The Rebellion and The Empire) was fraught through with relativism.

The Rebellion was portrayed as a fractured, schizophrenic movement that really didn’t know what it wanted to be, all the while doing whatever it took to survive including murdering its own and committing acts of terrorism. The assumption here is that simply taking on the mantel “The Rebellion” automatically makes these people the good guys; however, being rebels does not a good character make. For example, the Bolshevik Revolution executed around 1000 political prisoners a month into the early 1920s.

The Empire was portrayed as an entity that wanted to bring peace to the galaxy at all cost, up to and including the use of a super weapon; however, having and using a super weapon does not an evil character make. The U.S. is the only country to ever actually use a nuclear weapon in war. The U.S. did so to end WWII and it is arguable that not only did its use save lives, but that the cause for which they used that weapon is one of the greatest countries ever to exist (warts and all).

So, 40 minutes into the movie I didn’t understand why the Rebellion was so important to save because they were portrayed as not being much better than the Empire and I certainly didn’t understand why all these cool characters were so willing to run off and die to save it.

Back when Disney bought Star Wars from George Lucas I was hopeful that new life would be pumped into the franchise after the bitter disappointment of Episodes I-III. Unfortunately, Disney has proven once again why I trust Hollywood about as far as I can throw a bantha. All they have done is produce movies that make Episodes I-III look good in comparison. After all, no matter how badly they were done, at least George Lucas attempted to answer the question as to why Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader.

I am either an Optimist, a Fool or Both

One of the most influential moments of my life was sitting next to my dad in a theater (that is now a parking lot) watching Star Wars for the very first time. When Lucas re-released Star Wars, I had a very intense flash back, and almost asked my friend sitting next to me, "Dad, is that guy dead?" after the first rebel was shot down by a storm trooper in the first minutes of the film just as I did the first time I saw the movie.

As a result, I am a "Han shot first!" kinda guy; however, I have never been a partisan. I acknowledge that Star Wars was George Lucas's creation and that he has the right to do whatever he wants to with it.  However, no matter how much George Lucas mucks with it, he can never take away that moment of magic when I sat next to my dad and watched Star Wars for the first time.

Thus, I am not as shocked or disgusted as some are at the news that Lucas has sold Lucasfilm to Disney and that they plan on making a new movie. Rather (once again) I acknowledge that Lucas can do whatever he pleases with his creation and am even a tad bit hopeful.

Before anyone calls me a fool, let me put this into context. The vast majority of fans agree that the prequels were, if not horrible, then disappointing. Further, I would argue that many of us think that Empire is the best movie of the bunch.

It is here that I would draw a parallel to the trajectory of Lucas and Star Wars with TSR and D&D. OD&D/Holmes are akin to the original Star Wars. Moldvay's Basic Edition is akin to Empire. The originals are awesome, but their sequels improve on that awesomeness. However, everything that follows is increasingly disappointing.

Yes, I enjoyed both Return of the Jedi and AD&D, but they weren't as good as what came before (I know AD&D came out at about the same time or, in the case of the MMI, before Moldvay, but the analogy still works in the trajectory of Basic comes before Advanced).

By the time TSR went under, the product being produced was a far cry from the original and, in a lot of cases, not worth the paper it was printed on — similar to how many of us feel about the Star Wars prequels. When TSR went under, WotC bought the rights to D&D, produced the OGL and ushered in the beginnings of the golden age that we are currently living in.

This is why I am a bit hopeful for the Star Wars brand. It took another company with a brand-new perspective to re-invigorate D&D. The same might very well be true of Star Wars. By the time the prequels came out, Lucas was too powerful for anyone to say no, and the story got lost in all the new toys that he had at his disposal, in the same way TSR was more interested in putting out product than in actually playing the game.

Maybe, just maybe, Disney will do for Star Wars what WotC did for D&D. Now I will grant that the best thing WotC did was to give the game to us via the OGL and Disney is not likely to follow suit with Star Wars so there is plenty of room for this whole endeavor to go disasterously wrong; however, I choose to hope.

Thoughts on Sci-Fi RPGs Part 2

The only long term sci fi campaign I was ever involved with was a Star Wars (d6) campaign. I've played a lot of Traveller over the years, but my friends and I were more enamored with the mini-game that is character creation in CT than we were in the game itself. I've also played a lot of other sci fi games, none of which had the kind of pull that Star Wars did.

I must admit that one of the reasons that the campaign was so successful is the way it was run. The party had ties to the rebellion, and as a pseudo-military unit were sent on various missions. In the hands of a good Referee and willing players, this set-up can work very well; however, I also believe that the source material played large in the longevity of the campaign.

Firstly (and most importantly, in my opinion) religion is an integral and even central part of the Star Wars universe. As a Christian, I have some serious qualms about what George Lucas calls religion, but Star Wars cannot be Star Wars without the Force. This is a far cry from most science fiction (like Star Trek).

Secondly, Star Wars has more in common with fantasy literature than it does with sci fi. The characters are archetypes found in fantasy dressed up for space travel. The hero wields a sword and rescues a princess. We hear Obi Wan referred to as an old wizard. I could go on. In addition, just as fantasy normally does, Lucas borrowed heavily from mythology. He took very basic mythological and cultural themes, figures and tropes and recast them for a space opera. Thus, like fantasy, the Star Wars universe feels very comfortable.

Lastly, there is also one very important factor that I don't think many appreciate. Due to the geographic simplicity of the Star Wars universe, it lends itself to the fantasy sandbox style of play much more easily than Traveller or dozens of other sci fi games I've played over the years.

Let me explain. Tatooine is a desert planet. Yavin is a forest moon. Hoth is an ice planet, etc. These are akin to hexes on a hex map, where each hex indicates a different kind of terrain. When one needs to have a more detailed map of a particular section of said hex, it is easily done, but for the most part all one really needs to know is desert, forest, ice, etc. This might not seem very important, but I believe it is. Compared with the level of detail required of even the simple and abstract system used by Traveller to describe worlds, the scheme used by Star Wars makes universe creation no harder than creating a hex map for a fantasy campaign. In contrast, even in its relative simplicity, Traveller is rather quite intimidating. I firmly believe that one of the reasons my friends and I never got beyond an entertaining number of one-offs in Traveller is the fact that none of us had the confidence to pull a multi-world campaign off.

In other words, the more a science fiction RPG has in common with fantasy, the more playable it becomes.