Memories of the Future 1 by Wil Wheaton: B

memfuture1From the back cover:
The away team returns from the planet with some very good news: it’s clean, it’s beautiful, it’s populated with friendly humanoids… and they really like to do the nasty.

“At the drop of a hat,” according to Geordi.

“Any hat,” Tasha says knowingly.

Picard sends a second, larger team down to the planet to see exactly how many hats they’re going to need.

From “Encounter at Farpoint” to “Datalore,” relive the first half of Star Trek: The Next Generation‘s unintentionally hilarious first season through the eyes, ears, and memories of cast member and fan, Wil Wheaton (Wesley Crusher) as he shares his unique perspective in the episode guide you didn’t even know you were dying to read.

Review:
I came a little late to Star Trek: The Next Generation. I don’t come from a family of Trekkies and didn’t know anyone who watched the original show, so I was not glued to my set for TNG‘s 1987 debut (like I’d later be for Deep Space Nine‘s). Instead, I got into it in 1992, when my brother was watching the episodes in syndication every afternoon and hanging TNG action figures (still in the package, of course) on his walls. I began watching with him and was soon hooked, acquiring Larry Nemecek’s The Star Trek: The Next Generation Companion so that I could read all about the making of the episodes and keep track of the ones I’d seen. (Side note: I still haven’t seen 1.5 of them, but I kind of like it that way. It makes it seem like it’s not quite over.)

Although I eventually came to prefer DS9, TNG still holds a place in my heart. Like many people, I never did much care for the character of Wesley Crusher, but when I spotted Wil Wheaton’s episode reviews on TV Squad, I did read a few of them. In his introduction to Memories of the Future, Wheaton explains how the site lost a chunk of its funding and, therefore, the ability to pay him, but that he wanted to at least complete reviews for the first season, and so this book was born.

If you’re looking for a tawdry tell-all book, you’re not going to find it here. Wheaton doesn’t talk specifically about his castmates much, but when he does, he has nothing but positive things to say about them. Instead, his vitriol is reserved for the writers; he critiques the way various characters are written (Wesley, primarily, but also Worf and Troi, who are particularly one-dimensional during the first season) and points out many logic flaws and other problems with episode construction. I found his arguments to be compelling—especially how, contrary to many fans’ beliefs, Wheaton himself was in no way responsible for Wesley’s tendencies to save the day and be smug about it—and insightful.

There’s a chapter for each episode including a synopsis, quotable dialogue, obligatory technobabble, behind-the-scenes memory, bottom line, and final grade. The synopses are very snarky, though occasionally he’ll break from that mold to praise a particularly nice piece of acting. Many, many pop culture references abound—Strong Bad, Pulp Fiction, Animal Farm, et cetera—which is okay when I get them but rather annoying when I don’t. I have a feeling I was supposed to find some of the snark funny, but I never did, though I think there was a pretty clever/esoteric shabu shabu joke in there.

Memories of the Future is published by Monolith Press, which was founded by Wheaton “on the idea that publication should not be limited by opportunity.” I’m not sure, therefore, whether anyone else ever read and edited the book before its release. There are a few instances where an incorrect but not misspelled word is used—“marshal arts” or “when Picard apologies or something”—and a lot of inconsistency in the treatment of words that come after colons (don’t capitalize them unless they’re proper nouns!). Also, the header for each episode is accompanied by some grey bars with a lot of random numbers on them. I could never figure out whether they have any significance; perhaps they’re supposed to look like an Enterprise computer display or something? In any case, some tighter editorial controls would’ve provided a bit more polish.

(Update: After realizing that the numbers never go above 26, I tried my hand at cryptanalysis. All I could figure out is that the letters for the Introduction spell “Wesley.” Beyond that, it’s either gibberish or a code too complex for a lazy person like me to bother with.)

Ultimately, while I had some complaints I still wished I had volume two immediately on hand after finishing this one and I wish, too, that Wheaton will continue beyond the first season. While he is occasionally (and rightly) critical of some aspects of the show, his perspective is undeniably interesting and, above all, affectionate.

Additional reviews of the first volume of Memories of the Future can be found at Triple Take.

Serenity 2: Better Days by Whedon, Matthews, and Conrad: B

serenity2From the back cover:
When the Serenity crew uncovers a heaping pile of cash—marking their first successful heist—they divulge their most outlandish fantasies, and look forward to a little R&R in a tropical paradise. Unfortunately for these space cowboys, someone is hot on their heels in search of a prize more precious than money.

Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, joins Brett Matthews and Will Conrad—the team that brought you the smash hit Serenity: Those Left Behind—with a new chapter in the lives of Malcolm Reynolds and his roving band of space brigands in Better Days.

Review:
While Serenity: Better Days is the second comic miniseries based on the TV show Firefly to be released, I am not sure whether its events take place chronologically after the end of the show or not. The one thing that would help establish its place in the timeline—Inara’s decision to depart the ship—is not mentioned at all, nor is any reference made to Shepherd Book’s wish to leave (first stated by him in Serenity: Those Left Behind). While the story works just fine without knowing when it happens, this still bugs me a little bit.

The plot of Better Days is extremely simple. For once, things go well and the crew of Serenity is suddenly rich. Several members share the way they plan to spend their money in scenes that nicely capture the warm, family-like times the crew occasionally shares. Meanwhile, the Alliance is looking for Mal (when are they not?), though this guy is special in that he’s one of Inara’s clients, and a builder whose drone Mal stole is out for revenge. I must admit that this peril did not interest me very much, though I’m used to looking past occasionally lame plots in Whedon shows in favor of character interaction. The best character goodness happens here between Inara and Mal, especially in their final scene together, though there’s also some nice continuity between Wash and Zoe as well as an intriguing tidbit regarding Inara and Simon.

Will Conrad is back as the artist for this miniseries, and seems to have a little better feel for the characters now. The likenesses are more consistent and Inara is vastly improved, finally meriting some impressively realistic close-ups of her own. Although a new cover was created for this trade paperback, the original covers of the three comic issues—forming a triptych that depicts the crew lounging atop sacks of money—are reproduced within.

I have now read all of the Firefly-inspired comics currently in existence and enjoyed them a good bit. Any time Dark Horse would like to make more, I’ll be happy to give them my money.

Favorite Manhwa of 2009

adventures-young-det-1Over at Manga Bookshelf, MJ has asked a few manhwa fans, including yours truly, to name their favorite titles of 2009. You can find that post here.

It was pretty tough narrowing my picks down to five, but in the end I went with:
The Adventures of Young Det (Gyojeong Kwon, NETCOMICS)
Goong: The Royal Palace (Park SoHee, Yen Press)
Small-Minded Schoolgirls (toma, NETCOMICS)
10, 20, and 30 (Morim Kang, NETCOMICS)
Very! Very! Sweet (JiSang Shin and Geo, Yen Press)

And, for a BL pick:
U Don’t Know Me (Rakun, NETCOMICS)

I’ve read some great manhwa in 2009 and am looking forward to discovering awesome new series in 2010 as well as reading some greats that’ve already been out a while. This will be the year I finally read Let Dai!

Ciao Ciao Bambino by Momoko Tenzen: B

ciaociaobambinoI think I must be a Momoko Tenzen fan, because this is the second time I’ve been impressed by her ability to create compelling characters in a short story format (the first being Unsophisticated and Rude). Not only that, she’s able to write stories about romance between middle schoolers and teachers that aren’t completely icky (only mildly icky).

There are five stories in this volume, though the first four focus on the same set of characters: Kaname, a lecturer at a cram school; Yuuta, Kaname’s student, seven years his junior; and Kei and Mako, friends of Yuuta’s who have feelings for each other. What I liked about these stories is that Kaname and Yuuta take several years to get to a point where love is openly discussed, and although Yuuta is still too young (in my opinion) when they finally sleep together, his character is developed enough that it’s clear he’s not being taken advantage of by an adult in position of authority.

The fifth story, “Brand New Wednesday,” is about a tall kid named Kana—and seriously, both he and Yuuta must attend one of the junior highs from Prince of Tennis, because they’re far bigger than any ninth graders I’ve known—who is in love with his home tutor. I found the tutor’s perspective especially poignant here, as he realizes how fragile a love like this can be when the younger person has so much changing left to do in their life.

I admit to feeling a little guilty that I liked these stories as much as I did, given their subject matter, but Tenzen’s approach is not salacious whatsoever. If you can get past the squick factor, these stories do offer some truly touching moments.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Moon Boy 7 by Lee YoungYou: C+

moonboy7Myung-Ee and her childhood friend, Yu-Da, are “earth rabbits,” and must be on guard against the members of the fox tribe who want to eat them. Yu-Da is particularly special—as the rare “black rabbit,” his liver has the potential to restore the foxes’ queen. For that purpose, he was kidnapped by the foxes as a child and magically kept docile while they wait for his liver to mature.

Volume seven picks up just after Yu-Da reveals that he broke the spell placed on him some time ago and has just been playing along. Sa-Eun, the fox assigned to guard Yu-Da, feels betrayed since he genuinely felt friendship for his charge. They have an angsty fight until Myung-Ee intervenes with a powerful blast of energy that sends Yu-Da reeling. The rest of the volume is devoted to Sa-Eun confessing his feelings to Myung-Ee, introducing the sleepy leader of the foxes, and Myung-Ee’s attempts to get Yu-Da to come back to the rabbits’ side.

My problem with Moon Boy has always been that it’s inconsistent. Moments of head-scratching “Huh?!” are present in this seventh volume, like when Yu-Da, who’s been a pretty snarky badass for most of the volume, suddenly breaks into tears at the idea that Myung-Ee might really like him. (Causing Myung-Ee to realize that perhaps someone who’s been kidnapped and mind-wiped and held prisoner for many years might have trouble trusting people.) Later, Ha-Eun, a powerful figure with a mysterious agenda, bursts into tears after randomly taking Yu-Da to see a skeletal guy in a dungeon. I get that the creator wants the characters to be multi-layered, but these moments just come out of nowhere.

Despite my complaints, Moon Boy is a quick read and it has certainly improved over earlier volumes now that the story’s gotten more serious. Plus, there are only two volumes left, so I can’t really stop now!

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Serenity 1: Those Left Behind by Whedon, Matthews, and Conrad: B+

serenity1From the back cover:
Here’s how it is—in a universe filled with hearts and minds as cold and dark as the reaches of space, one small Firefly-class starship named Serenity takes its ragtag crew of mercenaries, outlaws, and fugitives in search of a job, any job, that’ll earn them enough cash to afford that most elusive commodity—peace.

Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, unveils a previously unknown chapter in the lives of his favorite band of space brigands in this prequel to the Serenity feature film—the blockbuster follow-up to Whedon’s cult-hit TV show, Firefly.

Review:
Serenity: Those Left Behind takes place shortly after the final episode of Firefly, “Objects in Space.” Inara has not left yet; while the ship is en route to her destination, they’re taking jobs along the way and though Mal proclaims this is necessary it’s Wash, who’s well acquainted with doing stupid things (like working a dangerous job when he could make a cushy living) to remain near the woman he loves, who realizes that he’s just trying to keep her around a while longer.

After one such job, a bank heist, goes poorly, the crew is offered another job by Badger: to retrieve a stash of cash left at the scene of one of the bloodiest battles in the war. Meanwhile, Dobson (the federal agent who appeared in the first episode of the series) is teaming up with the hands-of-blue fellows to track them down. It’s unclear whether Badger is in on this or not, but it all boils down to an ambush in a field of spaceship debris, no payoff, and Dobson’s death. Too, in the final page, we seem to be witnessing the moment that the Operative (from the feature film) receives the assignment to bring in River. Another important thing that happens here is that Book decides he needs to leave the ship. He’s an active participant in helping the crew escape at one point and later hits Mal, something that the Captain is ready to forgive but which Book is not.

For the most part, Will Conrad’s art is decent. In some panels, the characters don’t look much like the actors who played them—Simon and Inara fare pretty poorly in this respect—but Conrad is an absolute ace at close-ups. There’ll be a page, for example, with a vaguely Kaylee-looking person in a few panels and then, once you zoom into her face, it’s “Oh, now she looks like Jewel Staite!” This happens with Mal a few times, too, and there are also a few outstanding close-ups of River. Different artists have also contributed some color portraits of members of the crew. Again, Simon and Inara get the short end of the stick—are their actors just too pretty to be drawn easily or well?—while Book (drawn by Tim Bradstreet), Jayne (Brian Hitch), and Wash (Sean Phillips) look fabulous! Honorable mention goes to Jo Chen’s Kaylee who, while she doesn’t really look like Jewel Staite, is positively adorable.

All in all, while this isn’t as good or as fulfilling as an episode of the show, it’s really great to see all of these characters again and fill in a little background for where we see them in the movie. Now on to the second comic miniseries, Better Days!

Raiders 1 by JinJun Park: B-

raiders1From the back cover:
Irel Clark is a professor’s assistant whose latest find is the “Holy Grail” for members of his profession—literally! But when it turns out that some decidedly unholy individuals are also after the blood of Christ, Irel must drink from the chrism bottle he’s recovered to save his own life. Immortality leaves something to be desired, though, when undead cannibals walk the earth in constant need of human flesh, and Irel’s newly immortal body is nothing short of an all-you-can-eat buffet!

Review:
It hadn’t occurred to me, before reading Raiders, that all or nearly all of the manhwa I have read has been geared for a female audience. Anyone have recommendations for good manly manhwa?

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Raiders, but an appealing cover and a positive review from Eva Volin compelled me to check it out. Essentially, it’s all about the blood of Jesus. Irel Clark, a young man working for a professor who’s an expert in biblical relics, infiltrates a church in Glastonbury where the Holy Grail is rumored to be located. Instead of the grail, Irel finds a chrism bottle, one of five legendary vessels containing the blood of Christ and, after a shootout with some soldiers, he and the professor proceed towards London by train with the bottle in tow.

Others want the chrism bottles for themselves. The most violent of these is Lamia, a surprisingly sympathetic zombie who hates having to kill to survive and was going to use the blood in order to restore her humanity. Unfortunately, she goes about this by killing the professor in a gruesome manner and threatening Irel to the extent that he drinks the blood himself, which grants him the power of perpetual regeneration. Since he prevented her from obtaining a cure, Lamia keeps him chained up and gnaws on him instead of eating other people.

What we get in this first volume is really just a scrap of story; it’s fast-paced and intriguing, but events do not progress much beyond the initial setup. Instead, lots of new characters are introduced. Irel and Lamia get the most attention, which is good since they’re the most interesting, but there’s also some unnamed fellow who sends his teen servant (possibly a former zombie) and her giant partner/minion after the chrism bottle, yet another unnamed fellow in cahoots with the first one (this one can morph into a bat!), a cop who is excited by the cannibalistic shenanigans aboard the train to London, and the professor’s daughter. Quite a few of these characters converge on the final page of the volume, promising chaos for volume two.

The art is in a style I typically think of as “high contrast,” meaning it’s primarily white and black without much screentone. I found the action sequences to be confusing sometimes—Lamia loses an arm at one point by some unseen means—but overall the art is pretty good, dark and gritty as befits a gory story about zombies.

Ultimately, Raiders is a lot better than I thought it would be. Perhaps my expectations for a zombie action title are lower than they would be for something else, but I enjoyed it and plan to read volume two when it comes out in February 2010.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

not simple by Natsume Ono: A

notsimpleFrom the back cover:
A story within a story,
A book within a book,
A tale about the search for family,
For an emotional home.

Ian, a young man with a fractured family history, travels from Australia to England to America in the hope of realizing his dreams and reuniting with his beloved sister. His story unfolds backwards through the framing narrative of Jim, a reporter driven to capture Ian’s experiences in a novel: not simple.

Review:
I normally reserve my comments about a comic’s art for somewhere near the end of my review, but since the fact that Natsume Ono’s style deviates from the manga norm is glaringly obvious, I thought I’d address it first. Her art is spare and kind of squiggly, true, and yet it’s absolutely perfect, adding to rather than detracting from the narrative. I honestly cannot imagine this heartbreaking story being illustrated in any other way; to pair it with pretty art would be too wrong for words, so don’t let the lack of same be a deterrent.

If you, like me, have ever thought, “Why don’t more stories have sad endings?” then not simple is the manga for you. That’s not even a spoiler, really, since the structure of the story reveals the fate of Ian, the hapless protagonist, practically immediately. The book begins with a conversation between Jim, a writer, and Ian, in which Jim announces, “You’re going to be my next novel.” From there, a prologue depicts the end of Ian’s story, in which he is a drifter looking to keep a rendezvous with a woman he met years earlier, before shifting back in time to chronologically cover his life from childhood until the moment he leaves for the meeting.

The hardships and misfortunes of Ian’s existence are beyond many, and just when you think it couldn’t get worse, it does. Growing up in Australia as the child of a drunken mother and absentee father, he’s extremely close to his sister, Kylie. When Kylie is sent to prison for robbery—her means for funding a new life with Ian by her side—he’s left alone at home, and after his parents divorce, ends up living in London with his mother. Upon her release, Kylie finds him there and they have the briefest of brief reunions before she sends him back to Melbourne to be with his dad and promises that they’ll meet again once he achieves his dream.

Years pass. Ian has always loved running, and his dream is to break a certain runner’s record. He and Jim originally met when Jim was assigned to interview him, and they reconnect when Ian’s peculiarly jubilant response to placing fourth in a race attracts the notice of Jim’s editor. Ian, having achieved his goal, now feels free to seek out his sister. His search is long and disappointing, hindered by a series of terribly unlucky near-misses and a set of relatives that don’t care much about Kylie or Ian, let alone helping them achieve a reunion.

If this sounds like just about the most depressing story around, that isn’t far off the mark. And yet, it never strays into implausible territory. Ian is a likable guy—a strangely pure and innocent person who is, simultaneously, somewhat of an enigma—but the stresses of his life begin to take their toll and the final time he shows up at Jim’s place, after an absence of two years, the change is palpable. For years, he’s been matter-of-fact about the horrible things that have happened to him, but finally is so worn down that he’s become haggard and yearns only for the warm personal relationships that have been denied him. Jim’s an interesting observer, as well, ignoring his own family about as strenuously as Ian searches for his. If there’s anything I could complain about with not simple, it’s that we don’t learn more about Jim’s particular circumstances.

Depressing or not, not simple is masterfully told and completely unforgettable. If I had to sum it up in one word it would be this: haunting.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Black-Winged Love by Tomoko Yamashita: A

blackwingedloveAs in her excellent Dining Bar Akira, Tomoko Yamashita has created in Black-Winged Love a set of boys’ love stories focusing more on a universal aspect of human relationships rather than what goes on between guys in the bedroom. Each story relates in some way to the difficulties of communication, be it the crippling fear that keeps gay men from confessing their orientation or feelings to those they care about or the problem of convincing someone of your sincerity when sexual kinks keep getting in the way. By turns, these seven stories are amusing, disturbing, sexy, and heartbreaking.

My favorite in the amusing category is “It’s My Chocolate,” which is the story of a closeted gay man, Minori, who still lives at home because he feels a responsibility to help look after his many younger siblings. He’s gotten used to self-denial in order to keep the peace at home and feels that coming out to them would be impossible. The dam finally breaks and he blurts out all of his grievances in a heartfelt and thoroughly undignified manner, resulting in a wonderfully low-key response from his mother.

“A Villain’s Teeth” is an extremely interesting story with some disturbing elements, though they thankfully don’t dominate. The tale begins with daughter of a yakuza boss informing his long-time devotee, Yuikawa, that her father is dying of cancer. She’s convinced Yuikawa is in love with her father and encourages him to seize this final opportunity to let him know his feelings. Because of his laid-back demeanor, she can’t quite understand why Yuikawa has chosen the life of a thug, resulting in a marvelous panel in which Yuikawa replies, “Young lady, I am a thug.” His claim is proven a few pages later when he violently deals with an underling who’d thought to involve him in a plot against the ailing boss. It’s rather disconcerting to see graphic violence so casually perpetrated in a BL story, but definitely sets this story apart.

The title story offers the most complicated and fascinating relationship in the volume. “Black-Winged Love” involves a masochist named Futakami who has declared his love to a hot-headed coworker named Nakazu. Knowing Futakami’s special quirk, Nakazu doesn’t take the confession seriously and whenever he gets angry about it, Futakami starts swooning. In another’s hands, this situation might be played for comedy, but Yamashita approaches the problem seriously, getting inside Futakami’s head to show that he genuinely loves Nakazu, but that his fetishes—like a pair of black wings shielding his heart—keep getting in the way. I always love stories in which the obstacle keeping two people apart comes from within, and Futakami’s anguish at his own inability to express what he really feels is positively heartbreaking.

Artistically, Yamashita’s style continues to remind me of est em. Her men all look like men, with no weepy uke types in sight, though a few of them do greatly resemble characters in Dining Bar Akira. Most stories have no sexual content whatsoever, but when such moments do occur, they’re understated and brief. One special feature I really like is the gallery of deleted scenes that appears at the end of the book, including an epilogue of sorts to one of the stories.

The two BL works by Tomoko Yamashita currently available in English are some of the best the genre has to offer. I hope we see more of her other creations—including this josei title—in the near future!

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris: B-

holidaysFrom the front flap:
Holidays on Ice collects six of David Sedaris’s most profound Christmas stories into one slender volume perfect for use as an emergency coaster or ice scraper. This drinking man’s companion can be enjoyed by the warmth of a raging fire, in the glow of a brilliantly decorated tree, or even in the backseat of a van or police car. It should be read with your eyes, felt with your heart, and heard only when spoken to. It should, in short, behave much like a book. And oh, what a book it is!

Review:
I’m not usually one for holiday-themed entertainment: I don’t voluntarily listen to Christmas music and, beloved classic or not, the thought of watching Ralphie pine yet again for his Red Ryder BB gun fills me with despair. And yet, who could resist the allure of a piece entitled “Dinah, the Christmas Whore”? Not me, surely!

Holidays on Ice collects six short works, three of which ( “SantaLand Diaries,” “Season’s Greetings to Our Friends and Family!!!,” and “Dinah, the Christmas Whore”) have been published before and three of which ( “Based Upon a True Story,” “Front Row Center with Thaddeus Bristol,” and “Christmas Means Giving”) have not. Both “SantaLand” and “Dinah” take the form of nonfiction (see note) essays while the others are clearly fiction.

I’ve never actually read anything by Sedaris before, though I’ve heard him on NPR a time or two. Perhaps, then, it was a newbie’s mistake that I expected that these stories would be funny. Instead, most feature unpleasant people doing unpleasant things. I realize that sort of humor is popular with many, but it’s not something I personally find amusing. The worst offenders in this regard are the fiction works, like “Season’s Greetings,” in which the shrill narrator’s shrieking at her slutty new Vietnamese stepdaughter goes on interminably, or “Christmas Means Giving,” in which competitive and outrageously rich neighbors attempt to outdo each other in extravagant generosity. Some unpleasant types turn up in “SantaLand” and “Dinah,” though their stays are brief and much more tolerable.

That isn’t to say there are no laughs to be had at all. At his best, Sedaris possesses a talent for noting absurdity that jives nicely with my own sense of humor. I particularly like his self-deprecating account of his own youthful pretensions in “Dinah,” like how he thought that by wearing black in protest of others’ holiday consumption he could somehow cause them to rethink their ways.

My very avoidance would set me apart and cause these people to question themselves in ways that would surely pain them. “Who are we?” they’d ask, plucking the ornaments off their trees. “What have we become? And why can’t we be more like that somber fellow who washes dishes down at the Piccadilly Cafeteria?”

Of the fiction works, my favorite is “Front Row Center with Thaddeus Bristol,” in which a theatre critic savagely reviews several elementary school Christmas pageants. Here, rather than feeling like the extended rant of an unlikable person, it feels like the joke is on Thaddeus, who clearly is missing the point of these performances. This impression is aided by Sedaris’ expert imitation of a know-it-all columnist’s style; if this story were excerpted and anonymously posted somewhere I bet it’d fool many into believing it genuine.

While these six stories were hit or miss with me, I’m given to understand that this collection is not considered to be Sedaris’ best. I own a few more of his books, and will surely read them eventually. I’m sure I’ll encounter a few things to make me smile and a few observations to make me nod in recognition of a truth well stated, but I’m also confident there’ll be more of those unpleasant people whom I just simply don’t enjoy reading about. And that rather puts a damper on my enthusiasm.

Note: While I’m in partial agreement with the argument that Sedaris exaggerates too much for his essays to be rightly classified as nonfiction, I nonetheless think they’re nonfiction enough to merit inclusion in that category here. I only hope that the made-up bits are obvious enough that I never embarrassingly ascribe too much significance to them.