Escape From Kathmandu - Kim Stanley Robinson

This is 4 novellas, all taking place around Kathmandu and the Himalayan Mountains. They focus mainly on George Fergusson, and George "Freds" Fredericks, a couple of Americans living in Kathmandu, when they aren't making a living guiding people on treks up the mountains.

The two of them meet when George reads a letter addressed to Freds at the hotel where George is staying. A letter from an acquaintance of Freds, another American who fled academia to be a guide, but now needs help rescuing a yeti the research group he guided has captured. The rescue is somewhat complicated by the presence of Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter (and the accompanying horde of Secret Service agents), but they eventually pull it off.

George should serve as a cautionary tale for reading someone else's mail, because now that he's on Freds' radar, the subsequent stories all involve Freds dragging George into one mess or another. Help a reincarnated monk finally stop being considered a disciple by getting him up Everest. Help keep a road from being constructed too close to the valley which holds the fabled city of Shambhala. Keep a project to give Kathmandu an actual sewer system from taking place, because it'll reveal secret tunnels that an underground Nepali government is using to spy on the current Nepali government.

The Nepali government is presented as so massively corrupt, this book made me want to go back and re-read Forget Kathmandu to see how different the perspective of a local was on the government prior to the military coup. Although Robinson published this in 1989, so the situation could have changed quite a bit in the intervening decade.

There's usually some additional element Robinson throws in, though he switches around which is the Chekov's Gun. In the story about climbing, "Mother Goddess of the World," Freds mentions early on that his friend is the disciple to a really strict llama, who imposed a harsh condition to be met before a temple could be rebuilt and the disciple could stop being a disciple. But for much of the story, George and Freds are helping a group of British climbers, who want to stop an expedition searching for Edmund Hillary's remains from potentially finding him and returning his body to England. It's only late in the proceedings that Freds reveals the truth to George.

Which is one of the things I didn't like about the stories: Freds is constantly pulling a bait-and-switch on George. There's always some hidden catch to whatever he asks for help with, and that catch always ends up endangering George's life. "The True Nature of Shangri-La", it falls on George to try and stop this road from being built, and after he exhausts himself trying to navigate the labyrinthine and corrupt corridors of the Nepali government, he gets injured when they end up making the Chinese and Nepali guard outposts near a key pass think they were attacked by each other. And then he nearly dies of dysentery.

And the whole time, he's been catching grief from people for not getting enough done. That's the only one of the 4 stories Robinson writes from Freds' perspective rather than George's, and it doesn't do a lot for my opinion of Freds. He's sort of vaguely concerned for George's deteriorating mental and physical well-being, but in a vague, stoner-beach-bum way. "Oh, George is seeing how things really are in this country and running himself ragged to try and fix things. But he just doesn't get what's really important, maaaaaaaan." You dragged him into this, asshole. It's your problem, but he's the one actually trying to fix it, while you sit around and smoke dope.

It's a bit of a weird disconnect between tone and substance, when I think about it. Even though there is sometimes the threat of death in the stories, the plots are treated as sort of zany. Oops, we've got the Nepali President's personal guard chasing us because George was temporarily insane, let's escape on a mine cart that takes us all the way to a tiger-infested jungle! We helped a yeti escape by dressing him in a Dodgers' baseball cap and teaching him to say, "Namaste"! But, especially in the last two stories, it feels like we're watching George steadily self-destruct, like a jet being flown past its tolerances. Which is not really zany or funny. 

"Germ theory just ain't intuitive, George."

"Neither is religion."

"I'm not so sure of that."

"But why should there be a difference?"

"It may be that the reason for the existence of the universe is a more pressing question for most people than why they get the runs."

What I Bought 8/3/2026 - Part 1

I was on the phone with my dad a couple of weeks ago, detailing all these various headaches from work. A public meeting that would likely go to a hearing. Another public meeting filling in for The Coworker Who Doesn't Understand How Bribes Work, the AI nonsense, some other stuff.

He said, 'Sounds like you've had a rough few weeks.' I replied, 'All that was just on Tuesday.' He laughed. It's OK, that's what I do to keep from going insane.

Is Ted OK? #6, by Dave Chisholm (writer/artist/color artist/letterer) - The smile says good things, but the lightning eyes make me nervous.

First off, this final issue is 40 pages, at no additional cost. The 6-issue mini is 170 pages, total, so Chisholm's trying to provide value for the money, that's for sure. Anyway, after getting a massive hole blown in his chest last issue, Ted awakens in the weird tunnel he's seen previously, and briefly meets a woman named Kim. There are what look like tablets or pieces of paper coating the walls, and touching one lets Ted see someone's thoughts, but also gets him revved up again.

Good thing, because he, Sarah, and the doctor are about to crash. Oh, and Brody, but whatever. They make it out alive, landing in front of the Dome, where Noah is floating and crackling and assuring his legion of adoring imbeciles he's going to protect them from shapeshifting aliens.

Noah's actually in one of those Manowars, except the doc says his consciousness is elsewhere. Ted and Noah throw down, which does not go well for Ted, despite at one point slamming Noah into the Moon. The doc goads Noah into turning on his machine, and then Ted kamikazes himself. Not, critically, to destroy Noah, but because when Noah activates all the other people like Ted by turning on the machine, Ted'd back in that tunnel, where each of those little panels or pages connects to those people. So he can disrupt the paranoia and whatever Noah's been feeding them, if he has any hopeful memories to do it with.

And he does, because of Sarah. Because she was the first real friend he ever had. That prompts Sarah to admit she took this job to run from losing her girlfriend back on the other coast. A woman named Kim. Ted reminded her of Kim, which is why she reached out to him. So maybe they helped each other. 

Ted makes his big play, and Chisholm illustrates the pages of Ted reaching the others as this winding path through deep red panels of enraged people. Except each person gets a blue-white shard in their head, the connection to Ted. And as you progress to the next set of pages, the shards get larger, showing Ted's fond memories. The red fades, gradually overtaken by blue as the others stop feeling as angry. They don't necessarily have to be alone and mistrusting of others.

So they swarm Noah and throw him and his Dome into the Sun to protect the world, rather than making it into some sort of hellscape Noah can either rule or "save.". So his consciousness retreats to his back-up, the doc's missing nephew. but without the machine, his consciousness is sort of metabolized by the kid's. Kim is able to speak to Sarah briefly through what's left of Ted's body, and basically tells her it's great she wants to help people, but she shouldn't feel guilty for enjoying herself, or feel like it's a betrayal of Kim's memory. Which seems to convince Sarah to do something else with her life, to move forward. Though now she's leaving long text messages for Ted, who may not be dead.

The whole "strength of connections" theme makes me wonder about the Dome's significance. Because it has a honeycomb design, lots of borders connecting into something larger and stronger than they would be separately. But it was being used to hide Noah's plans, cover up what he did just to try and feel special, keeping everyone else sealed out and away from his special machine. But The Dome is an inanimate object, not people, so maybe its design isn't meant to be significant.

Or it's just an example of how Noah sees connection, as something to be molded to suit his purpose. He doesn't contribute anything to it, just uses it. Uses the doc's love for her nephew to keep her quiet. Uses empathetic people like Sarah to monitor his potentially useful tools. Keep him shielded from any consequences, by keeping everyone focused on being angry or afraid in other directions.

Thrash (2026)

A hurricane causes enough of a rise in the sea levels to bust the levees and flood a town. This unleashes a horde of bull sharks (plus one pregnant great white) upon whichever townspeople didn't get the hell out of Dodge.

Among those townspeople: Lisa (Phoebe Dynevor), a pregnant woman whose baby daddy bailed on her. Dakota (Whitney Peak), a young woman struck with agoraphobia after the recent death of her mother. Dee, Ron, and Will, (Alyla Browne, Stacy Clausen, Dante Ubaldi) three foster kids and their shitty foster parents. Dakota's uncle (Djimon Hounsou) is determined to get to her, but that's a little tricky when the seas are insane and the roads impassable. Unless you've got a boat, and something to haul it with. 

Are we in the year 2021? Because, if so, I could be spending this time on a lot better stuff than watching Netflix movies of questionable quality. This movie sticks to 2 threads: Dakota/Lisa, as the Lisa's car gets impaled on a tree in front of Dakota's house, and the kids, mostly trapped on the living room table in their increasingly flooded house. The film occasionally checks in on Hounsou and the weather reporter guy he bums a ride from, but it's really just to remind us yes, he's still on his way.

I think that works to its advantage, compared to Deep Water, where the movie was dancing between like 9 characters, scattered between three or four locations for a lengthy stretch of the movie. The film can focus on just a couple of situations, and really show how those circumstances are getting steadily worse. When Dakota forces herself to climb out the window to rescue Lisa, then slips on the eaves, she falls several feet before hitting water. By the time she climbs out the window to try and retrieve a rowboat, the water is already halfway to her knees, and she and Lisa are taking refuge on the second floor of the house.

The kids' it's a little less about the water, and more about the fact their lousy foster dad doesn't die as soon as they - and the audience - would hope. So right when they're thinking they're at least free of him and can start making their own plans, here he is, hauling himself on the table and ordering them into the water under the "logic" that sharks don't attack kids because they don't like the taste. Like how dogs don't eat their own shit. Which is both factually inaccurate and not a proper analogy.

That's a thing this movie does periodically, add a little humor among people try to either swim away from sharks or stay very still as sharks swim around them. Lisa triggering her perfect pregnancy playlist as the floodwaters start to float the bed and the house tries to collapse. The kids enthusiastically shouting "fuck you!" to the foster dad they think is dead, only for him to come bursting out of the water, still alive. Hounsou's saying, 'We lived in Mozambique, not The Jungle Book,' in response to the reporter's idiot question. It's a little strange, given how much the movie focuses on people getting swarmed and torn apart by bull sharks in the early going, but the situation is so bizarre a little absurdity doesn't feel entirely out of place.

I did expect the great white was going to be a bigger part of the movie than it was, but they played it as Chekov's Shark. Make you aware of it, then wait to use it for maximum (ridiculous) effect. The pacing got a little wonky about the time Dakota reached the rowboat. It's just down the street from her house, she makes it to the boat while it's still dark, and then the sun is well up in the sky and she still hasn't gotten back to her house. Like, what's she doing? She went for the boat to get the pregnant lady to safety. She gets the boat and then just, doesn't go back to the house. 

Let's Do the Time Hole Crawl

And that's why they call the town "Tackleford." 

Volume 7 of Bad Machinery, The Case of the Forked Road, finds our cast in their third, and I presume final, year of schooling. Things don't seem great. Mildred's on the outs with Charlotte and Shauna because they wouldn't join the Drama Club with her, while Sonny, Linton, and Jack each fall under the terrible curse of Puberty.

These things happen quickly. Charlotte and Mildred are at each other's throats on Page 9, and BFFs again by Page 10. On Page 14, Sonny is worried about being surrounded by unknown psychopaths and needing to learn about them. Page 30, he's slump shouldered, surly, and smelly, wandering out of his room long enough to spray on some deodorant before shuffling back to his room to play video games in his undies.

To be fair, that is how I remember most of my teenage years, other than I used stick deodorant. Hey, Star Fox didn't judge me when I was helping him defeat Andross! But he was already relying on Slippy Toad, so I suppose he couldn't afford to be picky about hygiene.

Point being, the boys are largely irrelevant in this story, as they've devolved to cavemen. Or a lower form of life. Like frat boys. I assume cavemen were able to start fires some way other than lighting their own farts, not a feat I'd expect frats to manage. 

Which leaves it to the girls - in between practicing for the Drama Club's performance of Glengarry Glen Ross, quite possibly a weirder choice than Allison having Ed Gemmell as the lead in a school play version of Twin Peaks - to tease out what's going on with the odd schoolchild named Calvin (no relation), and his connection to the science teacher. Who Charlotte mostly calls "Grumpaw", so that's what I'm calling him.

This leads to a time hole in a fume cabinet, taking the girls back to 1960. Except when they return to their time, things are different. Their favorite teacher, Mr. Beckwith, is a useless drunk. His wife, antiquities expert Amy, is neither an antiquities expert or his wife. What have they done by buying too much opium-laced '60s candy?

As it turns out, the problem is actually three boys who also found the time hole and got up to no good. Their leader has straight up anime hair, much more so than Charlotte, who is one pointed described as having "manga hair," which I didn't get at all. Ollie's particular version of the curse of Puberty has led to embracing nihilism. Nothing matters, so do whatever you want. As Professor Farnsworth would say, to hell with causality!

So the girls have to try and stop Ollie and his lackeys, before they forget what the timeline they're trying to restore was even like. There's a sad bit in there about Shauna, who didn't make the initial time trip, having a boyfriend named Keith in the new timeline, who she's reluctant to lose. There's a sadder bit about why Grumpaw kept grabbing the boy from the past and enlisting him with a 'secret mission.' 

A mission that's doomed to fail. Allison's version of time travel and the ripple effects is a bit like Marvel's used to be. You can't change the past, unless you make a really BIG change. Although here it doesn't create a new timeline so much as overwrite the existing one. Then the timeline actively resists efforts to change it back.

Which unfortunately prevents the girls from simply beating Ollie and his cronies up. Too bad. I'd like to have seen if Charlotte could actually back up all her tough talk. But violence is rarely the answer in Allison's stories. Certainly not to any real problems. So that was never likely to work. Ah well. Her performance in the Alex Baldwin role in Glengarry was excellent. I think. I've never actually watched the movie. But how hard can it be to out-act Alec Baldwin?

Sunday Splash Page #438

"Monster Mashed," in Atlantis Wasn't Built for Tourists #1, by Eric Palicki (writer), Wendell Cavalcanti (artist), Mark Dale (colorist), Shawn Lee (letterer)

Lucas Lewis is hiking from Cleveland to Seattle, and nearly gets hit by a dunk driver. He carries the drunk driver to the nearest town, a little burg called Atlantis. Since the driver is the sheriff's niece, the sheriff agrees to let Lewis bunk in his office for the night. Can't have him out wandering the streets, Atlantis has a curfew.

Atlantis also has a vampire problem, as several of them barge into the sheriff's office that night to feed on the poor sap in the drunk tank. Lucas has some supernatural heritage of his own, and after establishing his bonafides (see above), joins the group. Sort of.

Atlantis Wasn't Built for Tourists came out in 2020. To some extent, my buying it was due to circumstance. I didn't know either Palicki or Cavalcanti's work (and I don't know what either has done since this mini-series), and the general concept - stranger finds himself in an odd little town - is not exactly a novel one. But lots of things were a mess in 2020, including comic shipping and distribution, so I wasn't necessarily overflowing with options. Here was this mini-series, the title is at least eye-catching, the concept, if not familiar, might at least have a unique spin, so sure, why the hell not?

Palicki adds a few twists and turns. Lucas is traveling cross-country to confront his father before embracing what he sees as a grim fate he can't escape. The grim fate makes more sense to me now, having played The Sinking City, than it did then. Lewis' mother being from Innsmouth didn't mean a thing to me in 2020. The situation between the vamps and the sheriff is not as Lucas suspects, and the drunk niece isn't what she appears at first introduction, either.

They aren't "gotcha!" surprises, where it feels like they come from nowhere. Even with only 4 issues to work with, there's at least a sense of some sort of build and logical reason for things to happen as they do, which is nice. The main reason for the surprises is people believe what they want to believe. The sheriff looked at a vampire wearing his brother's face, and believed it was still his brother. Lucas didn't catch on to that, because he doesn't see it that way. He knows what a vampire is, and what it isn't, the same way he knows what he's ultimately going to become (though I wonder if that's as inevitable as he believes it to be.) The sheriff looks at Lauren, the drunk niece, and just sees a young girl acting out and flouting the rules.

Cavalcanti's art keeps the story grounded. The vampires are just humans with longer nails and incisors. The most notable feature is probably the eyes being dark voids. What you see with Lucas up there is as strange as he gets, though he can bring the features out at will. For the most part, everyone looks like regular people. Maybe a little too neat - Lucas is one of the few sporting stubble - but the real problem in the town isn't the obvious monsters (though they are a problem.) It's the humans who chose to make deals with them, sacrificing others' lives in exchange for their own safety.

It doesn't feel like a coincidence that shadows are more prevalent around people than places. Large parts of the story take place during the day, but even the night scenes aren't colored or shaded too dark. Dale has no problem going to backgrounds of a solid, daylight color during action scenes, and letting the whole thing be clear and easy to see. Because there's nothing wrong with the town, just the people running it.

The concept feels set-up for future installments. Lucas is waylaid by one of the deputies on his way out of town. She wanted to be turned, live forever, and Lucas ruined that. She figures he owes her, and he can either help, or pay by getting shot. Plus she'll kill everyone in town. So there's the potential for the two of them to travel and encounter more problems and maybe help each other. Because Palicki also nods to there being a lot of different supernatural stuff out there, including a different deputy whose parentage might be as messed up as Lucas'. As far as I know, though, there hasn't been a follow-up.

Saturday Splash Page #240

"Rocket into Danger," in Warlock #1, by Louise Simonson (writer), Pascual Ferry (penciler), Mark Morales (inker), Steve Oliff (colorist), John Costanza (letterer)

And we're on to the second of the three "Marvel Tech" line books. Doug Ramsey died in New Mutants, then Warlock died 30 issues later, presumably to make way for the kewl X-Force era. Some strange hybrid appeared years later, dubbed "Douglock," but turned out to just be Warlock with some of Doug's memories from those times they bonded.

After being used to create the Phalanx - oops - and being used by the Red Skull to take over that Helicarrier that X-51 got blown up stopping from crashing, Warlock's free and on a mission: Seek out and absorb all traces of the Phalanx on Earth. Unfortunately, he soon comes in contact with Esperanza (or Hope), a young girl who seems outwardly fine, but can infect others with the transmode virus. There's also a transmode-infected monkey that Hope befriends and protects from Warlock's half-hearted attempts to absorb him.

The trio face threats on two fronts. On one side, a person called Mainspring, a withered-looking grey guy with a big cranium and what look like camera lens or something fused into his skin. He ran the organization that was experimenting on the Phalanx traces, in some idea of advancing humanity through technology. To them, Hope is a great potential tool, especially when she proves able to infect inanimate objects, which, I guess was not considered possible previously? I don't know, I avoided the Phalanx stuff like a techno-organic plague. Warlock is interfering by denying them the material they desire.

On the other side, a group calling themselves Psi-Cops, led by a woman named Psiren, who Ferry draws as basically Amanda Waller if she shaved her head. Simonson gives her a fair amount of Waller's stubborn attitude and self-righteousness, though lacking the Wall's biting sense of humor. The Psi-Cops run around in white spandex and use various mental powers to destroy techno-organic beings and those who'd use them to endanger Earth. That Warlock also wants to remove all traces of the Phalanx, or that Hope didn't ask to be infected, is irrelevant. They have the potential to create more techno-organic monsters, so they need to be destroyed.

Ultimately, Psiren's younger brother, Psimon, disagrees and helps Warlock and Hope escape. After issue 3, they're on the run from both sides, with Psimon also using his telekinetic powers to help Hope learn to control her transmode abilities. Hope works on not letting her emotions get control of her, Psimon works on his confidence, on not comparing himself to his sister, and pushing his limits. Warlock struggles with guilt over being responsible for the Phalanx that infected Hope, and his own emotions around her and Psimon's friendship. Then Hope gets jealous when first Shadowcat, and then Wolfsbane show up, and Warlock starts acting different (presumably due to the aspects of Doug that imprinted on him.)

Simonson largely avoids jealous spats between the various girls, despite issue 7's cover implying Rahne and Hope were going to fight over Warlock. Kitty's just happy to see Warlock's still alive, and written as old enough to probably not see any rivalry between her and Hope, while Rahne's empathetic enough and open enough with herself to break down Hope's barriers (and also provide a nudge that helps Hope evolve her abilities in important ways.)

Simonson brings in Psycho-Man for one issue because Hope's power is messing with the Microverse somehow, to make everyone work on emotional control (with an assist from special guest-star Spider-Man!) Although Simonson's Psycho-Man is a lot more empty bombast than I was used to. More like a petulant child at times, but maybe the point is he never learned to control his emotions, because his machines do it for him.

Although Hope internal monologues at one point that Warlock barely changed shape once they ran into Shadowcat, it's a matter of degrees. Ferry's artwork is wildly different from Sienkiewicz's. Much rounder, much softer-looking characters, especially Warlock. There are no jagged projections of tiny metal bits jutting off at right angles. Instead, Ferry's Warlock is like a living toon. Highly malleable and using the ability almost constantly. Blimps with hands and feet, a T-Rex, puffing himself up with a Superman-style physique and chest symbol. Even when maintaining the form Hope describes as a 'boring old boy,' he'll still project a fluid-looking tendril from his forehead to interface with a computer.

Simonson keeps the threats coming. Mainspring finds Bastion's (siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh) severed, damaged head in the desert, and after a battle in the New York sewers where it had seized control of one of his robots, Mainspring strips away all the outer layers of programming to get to the core. And that's how I learned Bastion was the result of the amalgamation of Master Mold and Nimrod going through the Siege Perilous back in the Outback era of Uncanny X-Men. I had no idea, and didn't really care, but just throw it on the pile of things I learned I wish I hadn't.

Master Mold of course slips his leash, requiring help from the Avengers, but enough transmode-ing takes place to signal the Technarchy, so Warlock finishes his series - at 9 issues, shortest of the 3 M-Tech books - with a rematch against his father for the fate of the Earth. He wins, with a lot of help from Hope and even the Psi-Cops, and the trio (plus Rhane and the little monkey) decide to stick together and help Warlock remove more Phalanx infection stuff. Which was probably never referenced by any later writers. I don't even know if Warlock showed up in anything between this book (which concluded summer of 2000) and his appearance in the Abnett/Lanning Nova run in 2008, where he'd returned to the Technarchy homeworld (and where Paul Pelletier used Warlock's more classic look.)

What I Bought 7/29/2026

I had to cover for a coworker on an unpleasant task Tuesday, because the boss didn't bother to check if her schedule was clear when he set the time and date. The task was, indeed, a real pain in the ass, but when I saw said coworker on Wednesday, they presented me with a big bag of Skittles, with a note card that read "BRIBE" taped to it. I'm pretty sure bribes are supposed to come before I do the dirty deed, but my coworkers already confused "mutiny" and "desertion" this summer, so clearly, the meaning of words is not a strong point.

Generation X-23 #6, by Jody Houser (writer), Emilio Laiso (artist), Erick Arciniega (color artist), Ariana Maher (letterer) - This issue one of these characters will die! No, wait, sorry. One of these characters won't appear, because they already appeared to die.

The three survivors of the Facility are now living with Laura and Gabby, to mixed results. X-99 has gotten immediately way too online, calling things "mid", and quoting internet memes like nothing happened, to X-74 and Gabby's annoyance. X-92 is using his power to peek in on the lives of Laura's neighbors. X-74 is trying to get her powers under control after blowing up someone she didn't intend to last issue, without success.

So Laura gets them out of the apartment, by taking them to the big tree in Central Park where people left requests for help in Laura Kinney: Wolverine. And there's a family that's planning to leave tonight that needs help! Remarkable timing! Seriously, I thought that was going to end up being a trap by X-Infinite, but there really is a family getting attacked by your prototypical bigots in ski masks with bats. Really, not even any guns?

While the family is protected, it doesn't go great, because none of the X-Generated have ever used their powers in a real world situation. X-99 can't decide what to change into, X-73 blows a car way up into the air and nearly kills people. Something to work on, then. Maybe they can get some practice with their powers cleaning up the unconscious Logan that's bleeding on Laura's hardwood floor.

New artist. Liaso's line are heavier than Renna's. Gives the characters a little more weight, although everyone feels like they've become the same height. I'm pretty sure 74 was significantly taller (and older) than 99 or 92, who were both closer to Gabby's height. That said, the art's expressive enough, which is handy in the first few pages, when Laura is sitting back and observing how the Generated are adapting.

For the fight scene, Liaso alternates between Gabby or Laura assertively kicking bigots in the face, and 74 or 99 mostly looking at their hands and mumbling to themselves while they try to figure out what to do. And when 74's attempt to get involved goes wrong, we get a panel of her standing and staring in horror, followed by panels of Laura rushing in to cut open the car so the passengers can escape. The difference between using your powers for real, and following around in some knock-off Danger Room.