I am feeling moderately motivated at the moment, so I'm going to give it another go. But before we talk of the future of this website, I want to fill you in on some its past.

rawksome.net v1

I have owned the rawksome.net domain for five years, and this most recent version was the third incarnation of a vague purpose. I originally purchased web hosting with the intention of hosting a shared blog or forum with some friends who were no longer going to be geographically near each other. Then Facebook happened, so it seemed considerably less relevant and never went anywhere.

rawksome.net v2

A few years later, inspired to do some "creative writing" or possibly just avoiding writing an essay, a second version burst forth. Rawksome.net v2 kept the personal-life ideal of v1, but was a more traditional blog in the sense that I assumed people would be invested in my daily life if I threw in a little rhetoric dazzle. It lasted exactly one post, which was lost due to a server error. I had really liked what I had written, and the loss of my brilliant opening remarks discouraged me from continuing. The website again went inactive.

rawksome.net v3

The third and theoretically final phase actually began to take shape much earlier than January 2010. The impending new decade nagged at my mind, and by December 2009 I had a working idea of how I wanted to proceed. Instead of something that amounted to not much more than a jazzed-up diary, I wanted something that had roots in journalism. I wanted to do research, to take things that interest me, things I thought were important, and make them relevant. I wanted to explain why things matter, and have an opinion that would carry weight because I knew what I was talking about. I had the framework laid out for maybe a year's worth of entries - no content yet, just structure. This turned out to be a poor choice.

After three posts that I would consider successful and interesting, I froze. I knew what the next post was supposed to be, but I did not have a clearly designated place for it in my hypothetical ideal structure. I hate when websites are sloppy, or change approaches. I had such a clear idea from before day one that I couldn't let go of my perfectly nested categories or carefully selected featured image for this one post. Struck with indecision, I couldn't skip it or fix it, and so once again my little corner of the web fell into disuse.

Wandering in the Wilderness

Despite an appearance of complete disuse, my project was far from forgotten. Over the past two years, I have thought of revitalizing it yet again on a frequent, sometimes daily basis. There have been some major events that I would have loved to have written about, and hated that I let one self-imposed roadblock keep me from picking it up again. I have continued work behind the scenes: creating a website for my wife about our wedding, switching web hosts when the first failed in spectacular fashion, switching name servers when it was the trend to boycott GoDaddy, installing WordPress updates, playing with Google's AdSense. I even went so far as to set up Facebook Connect for ease of commenting, just in case my delusions of grandeur ever produced content instead of just structure.

Yee-haw.

I've decided enough is enough, so I am ending the hiatus. I'm going to consider this a continuation rather than another fresh start. As I said previously, I had a considerable amount of content outlined, and plenty of interesting things happened to fill in a few more gaps. I am therefore embarking on a writing adventure both old and new, as I seek to fill in the gap.

Welcome to rawksome.net v3, Act 2: A Blog in Retrospect. It's my bomb, and I'm going to ride it all the way down.

This particular story is an old piece by Robert A. Heinlein, pictured at right. The proper name for the story is "—All You Zombies—", quotations included, and is misleadingly (disappointingly?) not about zombies at all. It is instead about time travel, and is still considered to be one of the ultimate stories in the genre.

Heinlein wrote "—All You Zombies—" in a single day in 1958 and had it published in Fantasy and Science Fiction magazine the following year. On the simplest level, it is a story of a time travelling operative who goes back in time to recruit a young writer into his bureau. It quickly gets much, much more complicated, and it will probably take multiple readings to fully make sense. This is essentially the mother of all time travel paradoxes, so prepare to be overwhelmed. It's about ten pages long though, so you don't have to stick it out for very long.

Continue reading to (hopefully) see the story embedded from Google Books. If that doesn't work for whatever reason, you should be able to read it here.

By now, I assume you've read it and either have no idea what just happened or have a headache. That's to be expected.

To summarize the main paradox in the story, every major character is the same person at various stages in his/her life. Chronologically, the character is grows up a girl in an orphanage, has a brief romance with an older man who disappears, ends up pregnant, is given a sex change due to complications giving birth, and has the baby stolen. Now a man, the character goes on to become a writer, until he meets a bartender who takes him back in time to find his absent lover. In the past, he gets sidetracked when he meets a girl, but is whisked away again by the bartender to the future, where he is recruited into the time travelling agency. After a long career, the agent is acting as a bartender until he encounters the young writer, who he drops in the past while he goes slightly forward, takes the baby shortly after it's birth, goes back further and drops it off at an orphanage, before picking up the young writer and recruiting him into the bureau, then retiring to his present.

This is a complex example of predestination paradoxes that are prevalent in time travel fiction, but it also adds in the elements of fixed event and closed-loop time travel. Namely, the events of the loop do not change - it would be difficult to show multiple timelines for such a complex narrative in any short amount of writing - and the loop only exists because of actions taken during the loop. The hardest question to address in stories like this is where the loop started: how can someone give birth to themselves, let alone also be both parents. Heinlein never attempts to answer these questions, simply presenting the timeline as it is. I love this story for the minimalistic yet interesting background elements, like the Temporal Bureau or the various amusingly-acronymed organizations for astronaut companionship. Heinlein could have developed these into a full-fledged novel and not be lacking in content, but the short story as it stands is simply one small slice of a very interesting future that never was.

Love the story? Hate it? Have another story to share? Think I shouldn't have a section on literature? Let me know in the comments.

A note about this list: I am intentionally not referring to this as the "best movies of 2009", as I am certainly not qualified to make that sort of base judgement. These are simply the ten movies that I saw in theatres that I enjoyed the most. Thankfully, many other people seemed to enjoy them as well, but I am entirely confident there are movies that would have made the list had I seen them at the appropriate time.

Here, in no particular order, are my top ten:

Up in the Air

In his first two movies, Thank You for Smoking and Juno, director Jason Reitman made a name for himself in quirky, dialogue-driven movies centered around unusual but never-unbelievable situations. George Clooney has made a name for himself in powerful, suave, yet soft-spoken performances. In this regard, Up in the Air is a match made in heaven - what may be the best screenwriting of the year, delivered by who may be the best actors of the year.

Clooney's Ryan Bingham is a self-imposed loner, but still maintains a sense of relatablilty to even the most extroverted of us. Vera Farminga and Anna Kendrick portray the two women who find their way into Bingham's life, and are wonderfully dynamic counterbalances to his cynicism: Farminga's Alex offers a no-strings-attached relationship that Ryan gradually wants to attach strings to, while Kendrick's Natalie Keener is ambitious but naïve about the way Ryan's world really functions. The three contrasting philosophies serve as a great catalyst for character growth, and there are equal parts humor and emotional depth in abundance. The film's only misstep is in the unresolved closing scene, when Bingham would seem to return to his solitude after a setback. Aside from that, this film is smart and slick, almost bordering on satire, and offers an uncompromising view of what is very nearly the real world.

Up

It is my sincere opinion that Pixar has yet to make a bad or even mediocre movie. Up is a bit different then their previous creations, however, as it packed one heck of a punch below the emotional belt. I can't sugar-coat this one: this is the only movie this year that made me cry. And I don't mean watery eyes and the sniffles; no, these were big, fat, blubbery mess tears. I'm sure it was in large part where I'm at in life right now - I doubt everybody had the same reaction as me. I am not proud, but it's the truth.

Part of what makes Up unique, even among Pixar's already-unique lineup, is that the hero of the story is bitter and entering the epilogue of his life - who else's great adventure begins with a retirement home? I would love to see the storyboard for this movie, and even moreso how it was pitched and given the green light: flying houses, talking dogs, octogenarian swordfights, giant birds, and zeppelins? This movie goes overboard on the fantastic, but somehow is firmly grounded in one man's love for his late wife. There are also many moments of brilliant wit and humor, and may be arguably one of Pixar's funniest. This was an ambitious undertaking, but it absolutely paid off.

I would like to additionally call attention to the music. Pixar's score has always been above-average, but Up really ups the ante. I am not exactly one to appreciate orchestral music, but the thematic transitions, iconic melodies, and conveyed emotion make this one hard to not place at the top of a best-of list.

Inglourious Basterds

Inglourious Basterds is a movie with what I'm going to call restless-genre syndrome. Filmmaker Quentin Tarantino has one of the most iconic styles in the history of the medium, and he remains true to form here. A hodge-podge of snippets from a wide range of cinematic styles, Basterds would have collapsed into pretentious art-house drivel under any other director, but Tarantino has proven to be the most reliable way to make unrelenting violence watchable and even popular.

Even the cast fits the movie: individually rag-tag, piecemeal, but wholly brilliant. Brad Pitt may be an A-list actor, but he's out of his element here as a renegade Jewish lieutenant. Diane Krüger seems like she should be uncomfortable so far removed from family-friendly material. B.J. Novak has only ever really been on The Office. Eli Roth isn't even an actor. Samuel L. Jackson goes uncredited as narrator, but only two shots have narration. But the lynchpin of the whole operation is newcomer (to America, at least) Christoph Waltz, whose pitch-perfect performance as Col. Hans Landa is far-and-away the best character of the entire film. Waltz flits back and forth between stoic and manic effortlessly, belying Landa's delight in playing his own personal deadly-serious game.

This is not a film for every moviegoer. In fact, I know more people who shouldn't see this than should. But going in with an understanding of Tarantino, his penchant for solving every problem through excessive violence, and his finesse crafting uncomfortable situations, there's no reason a hardened stomach can't enjoy the ride.

Fantastic Mr. Fox

This is certainly a strange combination of talents: a stop-motion animated adaptation of a Roald Dahl story, directed by indie-favorite auteur Wes Anderson, with the voices of George Clooney (again, the man could read the phonebook suavely), Meryl Streep, Michael Gambon, and recurring collaborators Jason Schwartzman and Bill Murray. Interestingly, Anderson chose to shoot at 12 frames per second rather then the usual 24 to draw attention to the medium of stop-motion itself, a move that few people beside Anderson could have pulled off convincingly - it adds to his inherent quirkiness.

Fantastic Mr. Fox is one of the few movies that can speak equally to entire families, including plenty of non-offensive "adult" humor and kid-friendly suspense. One of my favorite artistic licenses ever is substituting the word "cuss" in place of any actual profanity, in everything from arguments to graffiti. I laughed every time it was used, and any children present remain blissfully unaware. Die-hard Anderson fans (and there are many) will enjoy a continuation of his personal style; newcomers will enjoy a truly fantastic movie.

Star Trek

I can't really claim to be a big fan of Star Trek as a whole. I've seen more than my fair share of episodes from Next Generation onwards, and I've probably seen most of the movies, but probably not all. The great thing about this reboot of a long-running series is that your preconceptions don't matter: this movie is awesome, and you don't have to like Star Trek or even sci-fi for it to be awesome for you, too. To it's credit, Star Trek doesn't dumb it down either, so even the die-hard fanatics will have a great time.

Strangely, this is the only other movie that came close to making me cry. The opening scene pulled no punches, and for those who are even loosely familiar with the series canon immediately grasped the enormity of the situation. There is little doubt that director J.J. Abrams knows how to artfully conduct science fiction-based action, and he absolutely delivers here. This is the sort of movie that makes me downright gleeful, gets the adrenaline pumping, and spends no time on silly non-action things like morally grey decision-making. This is the sort of movie that you have to follow up with another, less awesome movie if you want to sleep that night.

Also, I automatically endorse anything starring Simon Pegg.

(500) Days of Summer

If there is one particular genre theatres are drowning in, it is the generic romantic comedy. (500) Days of Summer generally follows the established plot: boy meets girl, slowly builds up a relationship, boy and girl have falling-out and spend some time apart, then reunite. (500) Days adds one extra step to the equation: a total and utter crash after reuniting. As the tagline indicates, this is not a love story, but rather a story about love. It's a subtle difference, but an important one.

(500) Days is a nonlinear narrative, starting at the middle/end of the relationship and bouncing around within the boundaries of those 500 days.  We know from the beginning that the relationship doesn't last and ends rather badly, and the juxtaposition of the joyous heights and the crash-and-burn lows of the various stages makes for a brutally honest and real movie. These are people you may know, not the chiseled, polished, picture-perfect couplings of another fantasy romance. The romantic story is the oldest one in the book, but here is a movie that manages to bring a fresh, clever perspective. This isn't the movie to turn to for a happily-ever-after, but is the one to look to for a reminder about how romance works in the real world.

District 9

Of all the movies of 2009, District 9 has the most unlikely history. Before District 9, Neill Blomkamp was a relatively unknown director with a few commercials and short films to his name. One of those films, a trilogy set in the video game Halo's universe called Landfall, was good enough for Blomkamp to be handed the reins to a feature-length Halo movie, produced by Peter Jackson. After the project's funding fell through, Jackson was so impressed by the work he essentially gave Blomkamp a bunch of money to make whatever movie he wanted. The result was District 9, an embellishment on Blomkamp's earlier short film Alive in Joberg.

Despite an unknown director, unknown lead actor Sharito Copley, and relatively small budget, the film was a hit. The pseudo-documentary style of the first half served as an uncomfortably personal method of introducing the the situation: aliens have appeared suddenly, miserable and barely able to care for themselves, and over the course of thirty years have become an unwanted presence underfoot, treated cruelly. The second half is a no-holds-barred brawl, a brutal shoot-em-up delivered as only innovative science fiction can - namely, the best weaponry ever.

District 9 leaves you feeling exhilarated, but shamed and guilty. It's very nearly a form of social protest. But it does so with substance, style, and emotion. This is one film I'm actually looking forward to a sequel from.

I Love You, Man

Okay, I'm just as surprised as you are that this movie made my list. It's certainly outside of my comfort zone, but there's no two ways around it: this was the funniest movie of 2009.

It's a simple premise, to be certain: Paul Rudd is getting married soon but has no close male friends, and so sets out to find a best man on a series of platonic "man dates". But the chemistry (bromance, if you will) between leads Paul Rudd and Jason Segel is startlingly authentic and undeniably funny. Rather than work to avoid all the potential clichés, this film embraces them, makes them awkward and ultimately endearing, and invents a few new ones. Here more than anywhere else this year, I found myself asking "Who thinks up this stuff?" Who thinks it would be funny to be the real estate agent for Lou Ferrigno - you know, the Incredible Hulk from that old TV show. That playing air bass to Rush awkwardly is funny. That two grown men can have completely platonic but powerful chemistry. If I didn't know better, I'd guess this was based on somebody's actual experiences. As it stands, we're all a bit like Paul Rudd, looking for our Jason Segel to come along and loosen us up a bit, make us enjoy life more.

I love this movie because the humor is real. It may not have been directed by Judd Apatow, but it is certainly very Apatowian (that's a word now, right?). Some parts are dirty or gross or unbearably awkward, but I dare you to not laugh.

Moon

If I had made this a numbered list, Moon would have been in first place. However, perhaps ironically and certainly tragically, I'm fairly confident this is the one movie that the least people saw. Presented here is a return to some of the oldest forms of science fiction: no aliens, no weapons, no outlandish scenery, just a character study in isolation wrapped around a mystery to solve.

Sam Rockwell is essentially the only actor, and he gives a powerful performance as two versions of the same character - similar enough so you can tell they're the same person, but different enough that they are distinct. Kevin Spacey voices Sam's built-into-the-building digital companion, a pitch-perfect AI who ominously avoids probing questions and obviously knows more than he is letting on. Between the two (three?) of them, you really get a sense of how lonely Sam's three-year solitude is, how pitiless and unromanticized a lone lunar base can be, and how desperate the first Sam is to get back home spurred by his rapidly deteriorating condition.

Moon deserved more attention than it got - it was not nominated for a single Academy Award or Golden Globe. First-time feature director Duncan Jones deserves credit for an excellent job directing, for great original screenwriting, for making a great movie on a tiny budget, and for being the son of David Bowie (seriously). Even the musical score is wonderfully understated and minimalist, and worth singling out of an already-great production. This is my favorite kind of movie: powered by big ideas, not by big effects.

Zombieland

I'm not one for horror movies, but I can be persuaded to make an exception for the occasional comedy-horror, provided the emphasis is placed on comedy. Luckily for me, Zombieland is a movie that is completely aware of all the zombie movie tropes, rounds them all up, and deals with each of them deliberately and usually ironically.

The four main characters are well-crafted and cast: Jesse Eisenberg's Columbus is amusingly dealing with all the problems of being a young adult male on top of the zombie apocalypse; Woody Harrelson's Tallahassee is the rough, rugged loner whose life's goal is to find just one more Twinkie before they expire; Emma Stone's Wichita is the token attractive girl, but stands out as being crafty, able to take care of herself, and fiercely protective of her sister; and Abigail Breslin's Little Rock is coping surprisingly well in the wasteland despite her young age. The Rules, as outlined by Columbus, are both amusing and accurate: I think it's become a bonding tradition to discuss methods of how to deal with a zombie uprising. I know I have, and The Rules embodied that mentality.

I was really ready for a zombie movie where the survivors have adapted to a new way of life, and know how to deal with problems - namely, to stop making irrational decisions. And although Zombieland is not completely rational (Lighting up the entire theme park in the middle of the night? Really?), it succeeds better than most. It's no Shaun of the Dead, but still works out to be a great tongue-in-cheek ride.

Honorable Mention

The problem with limiting top-ten lists to ten is that some movies don't make the cut, and in a year like 2009, there is no shortage of quality material. Here are five additional films that I also think are worth the mention, but didn't quite make it into equal billing.

Adventureland

I didn't really have high hopes for Adventureland. The trailers made it out to be a somewhat generic youth comedy, probably amusing but goofy and largely inconsequential. I was pleasantly surprised by the maturity and depth of the actual movie. It was funny, but it was mostly a heartfelt coming-of-age story about life taking unexpected detours and a miscalculation of a romantic relationship. It feels like a slightly idealized version of a real story, which both hurts and helps in the long run. I wonder if this movie had been marketed differently how much different of an audience it would have received. In a way, this may not be a bad thing: much like the characters in the movie, audiences got something different then they were anticipating, and maybe had to grow up a little bit in order to understand.

Where the Wild Things Are

I was skeptical at first that such a short book could make a decent movie, but Spike Jonze seemed to know exactly how to make me want to see it: unaltered human voices for the Wild Things, CGI rendering that was subtle and could be easily overlooked, and trailers that used an Arcade Fire song. The movie itself was a great portrayal of the way children see the world. When Max is unable to cope with the real world he creates a semi-fictional, semi-fantastical new one where he can be in charge. The "family" of Wild Things he befriends would seem to be the personification of kid-logic about the adult world. It's telling about Max's maturity level that even the fantasy world fabricated as an escape has problems he doesn't quite understand or control. This results in a strange mix of somber and joyous tones, and the overall product is a kid's movie that would not really be that enjoyable for kids, only the adults who can look back and remember what it was like to be that age.

Watchmen

I'll admit that I only read the original graphic novel after the movie was announced. I felt guilty at first because I hate to be the person that only looks up source materials because of the hype, but in this instance I was glad I took the time, as this is one story that gets complicated quickly. The movie stays very close to the original for the first three-quarters, but the divergence in the last quarter sparked a torrent of quasi-outrage amongst the more opinionated portions of the Internet. Personally, I thought the new ending made more sense than the nonsensical one in the novel, but that's just me. The individual characters are portrayed well, the locales impressive, and the costumes should have earned Oscar nominations, but on the whole never quite hits an even stride. Additionally, the soundtrack ranges anywhere from poignant to laughable to downright distracting, and that might have been the dealbreaker on the whole operation.

In the Loop

There are few things in life I love more than a good British comedy. In the Loop comes pretty close, but never quite sealed the deal for me. There are a lot of things working for it: a clever and unique storyline (a junior politician gets flustered and makes an inane comment that is taken out of context until it snowballs to the point that it threatens to start a war, of course being egged on by a "secret war committee" and battle-hungry military figures), an American cast written by the British to highlight our "best" stereotypes, and a script so relentlessly coarse it makes profanity an artform unto itself. I also loved that these political players are so minor they're essentially anonymous to the general public, but their jockeying for position still rapidly cascades into serious ramifications. I'm guessing the main sticking point here is that I've never been a fan of movies about politics, even satires; I feel the same way about Dr. Strangelove, unsurprisingly. This one is probably worth another watch at home - and this time with subtitles.

Avatar

In all honesty, I had a difficult time including Avatar on this list. It was a very pretty movie, and will probably go on to win all sorts of visual achievement awards - and deservedly so. Director-of-legend James Cameron pumped around $250 million into making this movie, and another $150 marketing it, and nearly single-handedly invented a new generation of 3D cameras. At least your eyes and ears will tell you it was all money well spent. But for all the glamor up front, the story, characters, and dialogue are tired and cliché. The more time I spend reflecting on it, the less I really like this movie. It just seems like a shame that Cameron couldn't have diverted a little bit more of that massive budget into screenwriting. There was nothing that was outstandingly poor, but a little bit more balance between visuals and story could have made this one of the best movies of all time. As it stands, it will end up simply being one of the most lucrative.

In 1968, Arthur C. Clarke, the one of the founding fathers of science fiction and futurism itself, wrote 2001: A Space Odyssey. In it, humans are making regular trips to a station on the Moon, and are capable of sending manned expeditions to the moons of Saturn. We have obviously missed that prediction; not one person has set foot on the Moon since the Apollo 17 mission in 1972.

In 1982, Clarke wrote a sequel titled 2010: Odyssey Two, not surprisingly taking place 9 years after the first novel. This in itself is significant - the era we are presently living in is so far in the future that it is actually the sequel to the original future. Also worth noting is that this is when Clarke writes that the human race as a whole first comes in contact with alien lifeforms. (In 2001, the iconic monoliths that bestow sentience to humanity are alien-made, but their creators are only seen by scientist and astronaut David Bowman after he is pulled through a stargate and cut off from the rest of humanity.) While it is impossible to predict what events may transpire this year, it is probably a safe bet that the discovery of extraterrestrial life will not be among them. And we will continue to be disappointed by it.

Of all the vehicles produced for model year 2010, not a single one can fly or even hover, travel at high-speed on a magnetic or otherwise advanced freeway, nor is there a single model that is powered by fusion, fission, or nuclear energy. A relatively small percentage is electric-hybrid, but very few are electric-only. The average car gets 27 miles to the gallon of gasoline. The Ford Model T, first manufactured in 1908, clocked in at 21 miles to the gallon. A hundred and two years later, we've managed to improve by 6 miles? Good job, future. I had hoped that we would have cars that drove themselves by now.

My point here is that our fictional anticipated year 2010 is quite different than our actual current 2010. Somehow the timeframes of "present day" and "the year 2010" have two very different connotations, even though they are now literally the same. If a movie or television show is set to take place in 2010, I expect it to be futuristic in some fashion, whether a brilliant, shiny utopia or a dark, gritty, preferably post-apocalyptic dystopia.

Since it would seem that most science has a long ways to go to catch up to the vision, I'll be bracing myself for some sort of world-altering event to go the quick-collapse-of-society route. A nuclear holocaust, worldwide plague, or cataclysmic natural disaster would serve nicely, or even a government/large faceless corporation conspiracy would be a good candidate for bringing about the fall, assuming it is in motion even now.

Even so, I'll forsake my dreams of interstellar space travel, cybernetic implants, bullet trains, advanced artificial intelligence, antigravity, and deflector shields if somebody would just invent a laser pistol. I really don't think that is too much to ask. Just one laser pistol. Please?

Image credit: ~aksu