Bio-Art: Mother and Child, Divided.

Happy belated Mother's Day, everyone! I hope you had a great time hanging out with your mothers. I know that sounds weird to say. As today's art piece shows, not everybody is so lucky. 

Disclaimer: Art and pic belong to Hirst.

Hello again, Damien Hirst. Fancy seeing you on this column with yet another formaldehyde piece. Mother and Child, Divided features a fully-immersed cow and calf separated by a number of barriers - including one gruesome twist.  This time, quite a lot is in the name.


Mother and Child, Divided is a fitting title in more ways than one. Not only are the cow and calf lamenting being separated postmortem, the displays themselves are bisected. The full setup contains a total of four tanks, each containing half of a cow or calf. Both mother and child are bisected. They are set up so that museum-goers can walk between the halves and see what the cows really look like inside.  How the organs do not randomly float around in the formaldehyde, I have no idea. The cows also have to be replaced from time to time.

This piece caused quite a stir when it was brought to Japan (the land of Godzilla, ninjas, and tentacle porn) for an art exhibition in 2008.  Japan had a ban on British beef out of fear of mad cow disease. It was quite a hassle not only transporting the containers, but explaining that these cows were not for eating. I don't think the Japanese would try that anyways, but am nonetheless sure there is porn of it. It's the internet.

This is one piece that, despite previous questioning of Hirst's work, is definitely art in my mind. It is a very real, but often unacknowledged fact that cows are frequently separated from their young on factory farms. The only thing that could have made this sadder would have been to have the mother and child facing each other. Clearly, some thought went behind this formaldehyde-laden work.

Or maybe Hirst just wanted to mess with cow corpses for some other reason. Anyways, happy belated Mother's Day!

Bio-Art: The Island of Doctor Moreau (1977)

You knew this day would come. After doing bio-art sections for a few weeks and referencing furries in several entries, reviewing this series was inevitable. All adaptations are based off of an 1896 sci-fi novel by H.G. Wells, the same author who did The Time Machine. Apparently his work has never really been taken seriously, so no matter how profound The Island of Doctor Moreau was, almost everything got lost in the freaky science aspect.

The Island of Doctor Moreau is a legend among the furry fandom. It centers around a castaway (whose name varies from adaptation to adaptation) who winds up on the island of a mad scientist named Dr. Moreau. The good doctor was kicked out of England for his insane vivisection experiments, which have borne fruit on the island. The doctor has created human-animal hybrids thanks to his vivisection research. After severely drugging and repressing their animal instincts, he believes that he can create something closer to the divine than man. This does not work; the manimals break the laws that Moreau gave them, and the island quickly degenerates into chaos. One can see why fans of anthropomorphic animals would have some interest in this story.

So how do you like being a walrus, Homer?

 

There is, however, one big, black sploch on the furries' interpretation of this work: The original hybrids on Moreau's island were going from animal to human and back again, not human to animal like so many tweak. The change was the result of science gone horribly wrong. The book and films get into a lot of the deep, dark issues of scientific progress and general ethics. It's even philosophical at points. The part in the book where the protagonist is worried about humans becoming animals again is cut out in the film versions. The emphasis on furry sex in the 1933 film Island of Lost Souls, however, speaks for itself. We've already degenerated that far, people!

However, as I have not yet read the book version of this behemoth, I was forced to look into the film adaptations instead. After clicking around a bit, it looked like the 1977 version had the fewest deviations from the book.  It was that, a film about hawt panther chick sex, or the 1996 version, which was so bad it got riffed. I hope you all see why I chose the version I did.



The film starts with one Andrew Braddock being shipwrecked. He lands on Moreau's island, which the doctor calls "paradise." Accompanying this doctor is a headhunter named Montgomery and strange-looking servant named M'Ling. Oh, and there's also a hot lady named Maria, who is probably part cat if her pet serval is any indication.

The stranded Braddock realizes very quickly that strange things are going on on the island. Soon enough, Braddock finds the doctor's lab.  While there, he learns of the doctor's vivisection experiments. Not only has Moreau been effectively gene splicing things (in this case a bear) and giving them organs from human beings, but whenever they try to reconnect with their animal selves, the doctor reminds them that they're supposed to be human with a whip. It's a hard scene to watch for anyone who has had any pet ever.

Interestingly enough, the doctor uses the exact same logic that goes into creating scientific chimeras and hybrids today: Think of the benefits for medicine! That's just about the most generic reason in the book for why science does anything. Growing human ears on mice? Glowing bunnies? Just admit it: Humans love playing with nature. It's in our nature to tweak things, even if we shouldn't. The medicine excuse is getting old.

I've seen worse.

Soon, we meet what the furries came to see: Manimals, or, rather, humans with half-decent makeup. Sayer, an ape-man, keeps repeating Moreau's credo as the manimals show more and more bestial traits, killing and walking on all fours. Until he dies at the end of some REALLY intense chaos, his words are along these lines:

"This is human. This is man. This is LAW."

The law includes "no shedding blood," "man shall not kill man," and "no eating flesh." All of these are utopian ideals that man has been striving for for decades. (In regards to "no eating flesh," however, humans need meat, too. Way to go, doctor.) The manimals fail horribly in keeping the laws up. Eventually, they AND Braddock rebel against the doctor. Braddock's punishment is, of course, being turned into an animal.

When Dr. Moreau does try to turn a human into an animal, by the way, his partner Montgomery strongly objects. He objects so vehemently that Moreau shoots him. Also, the transformation is excruciatingly painful for Braddock; I find transformation fascinating, but seeing how much he regressed without showing many major changes was depressing. If this film is the closest to the book, please to be reconsidering your stance on science doing this, furries. I know a good portion of you want to be wolves, but trust me, it's not nearly as fun as you think.

Braddock does manage to escape the island. It's hinted that he and Maria are both returning to their true natures on the way back to civilization. Again, there's no mention of the worry that mankind in London will turn back into animals...


...but I'll save that for next week. ;)

Bio-Art: Giant Microbes.

 

Awww, how cute! It's pink! It has a cute piggy snout! It looks like Munna from Pokemon! It's...swine flu.

Yes, you, too, can get swine flu in the cutest form possible: A pink plushie with red eyes and an adorable little piggy snout. This cuteness was made possible by GIANTMicrobes.com, a group that makes numerous bacteria, viruses, and creepy crawlies at millions of times their natural sizes...then goes the extra mile and makes them even cuter by playing with the names and/or functions of the microbes.

GIANTmicrobes was founded in 2002 by Drew Oliver. He got the idea after reading some memoirs about Richard Feynman's  fascination with the bustling microbial world.  Oliver was sure that kids would be just as fascinated by this strange world that was just a microscope viewing away, but little kids and lab tech do not make a good mix, especially when ebola is one of the specimens in question.

Name a mildly popular disease and there will be a plushie of it. GIANTmicrobes has rabies, ebola, mad cow, the Black Death, West Nile, flesh-eating bacteria, and even malaria (which I have GOT to get!). Aside from diseases, they have other unicellular things like blood cells, egg and sperm cells, copepods, and bookworms. They are all equally adorable, so no matter what your favorite disease happens to be, rest assured that it has been made too cute to handle.

Go ahead. Buy one.  They're contagious.

Freak Week III/Bio-Art: The Breed (2006)

Heeeey! Guess what time it is? Freak Week III time! That means we're going to be looking at vicious, strange animals made not by nature, but by...MAN! Yes, Freak Weeks are all about the crazy breeds made by humans. They are usually inbred as all get-out for traits not normally found in their wild counterparts, so yes, all breeds are freaks by definition.



What better way to kick off this week than with a look at a movie titled The Breed? True to the title, The Breed centers around a special breed of dog selected for aggressive behavior, not to mention being genetically-enhanced. The project is soon abandoned by the military, leaving the island desolate and the dogs running wild.

Some time later, a group of college students decide to crash on the island for a few days. No sooner are they all settled in when a vicious, angry beast attacks them...

...AWWWWWW! At least, that's the general response from the college students until the puppy's pack members find it and shit hits the fan. The rest of the movie is the college students running from the dogs, which are honestly way smarter than even a wolf pack would be. We're talking dolphin-level smart. Either that, or the humans were bigger idiots than I first thought.

According to the director, the point of The Breed was to make the audience see dogs in a new way. One could argue that Cujo had already done that. The point of both was to make something familiar and normally docile, Canis lupus familiaris, into a terrifying monster even worse than the wolf. Since mythology had been doing this for centuries, I was keen on seeing a modern take.

The dogs in The Breed look like one would expect aggressive dogs to look: Pointed ears, big, not fond of being held, and no flashy piebaldism. The vet-to-be confused one of the feral puppies for a large German Shepherd. Some of them almost looked like African Wild Dogs at first. They all looked like dogs bred for kicking ass and eating it, too, even if they were a little variable for one breed. Kudos to whomever picked the attack dogs for the movie!

This is not one of them; this is a wolfdog.

To demonstrate exactly how much the dog has been bred down, several people have bred wolfdogs. Add the smallest drop of wolf into a doggie gene pool and dogs start to go crazy. They howl. They become more intelligent. They are more curious, and thus more destructive. Overall, they are not predictable. The Breed made its point: All it takes is one breeder (or animal abuser) to bring back the wolf in the domestic dog. If only college life was not in the way!

Just because it struck me as passably interesting does not mean it was a good movie. The writing in this thing is terrible. Seeing college students being college students while killer dogs are roaming an abandoned island does not make a good movie. (Maybe that's me; I have ZERO sympathy for college students whose sole aim in life is to get wasted and laid.) It still manages to make its point, especially since someone did get injured while making the film. Cujo probably does it better. Watch it for kicks - nothing more, nothing less. I would love to see Film Brain tear this apart.

Bio-Art: Alba.

Transgenic life is inevitable. Our food is spliced several times over with genes that promote growth and prevent pests. Even organic tomatoes are considerably modified from their wild counterparts. It was only a matter of time before our pets got into the splicing craze.

Image from Kac's site. Hope he doesn't mind the free advertising!

Meet Alba. She was made by French scientists under commission from Eduardo Kac, whose specialty is using science to make beautiful things. Under normal light, she is a perfectly healthy-looking lab rabbit. There is no way to tell that Kac ever intended for her to be anything besides a pet.

Then the blacklight comes on and she starts to glow bright green.

How you can tell this image is fake: The pupil isn't glowing.

Alba contains the GFP protein from crystal jellyfish (Aequorea victoria) in her veins. The protein is usually used to track certain traits, such as disorders, in organisms (namely fruit flies). Who are we kidding? Science just loves making things glow crazy colors.

Alba was created purely for aesthetic pleasure. We are unsure of HOW much she glows - most of the photos have been altered to exaggerate how bright Alba is - but somewhere, beneath all that white, fluffy fur, she will glow as green as The Hulk in the proper lighting. It helps that Alba lacks pigment, but even so, she will not glow as brightly as the image shows.

Making the bunny glow was just one part of a bigger "GFP Bunny" project. Her designer, Eduardo Kac, wished to make a creature outside of nature, then integrate it into his household as a pet. This unfortunately happened with GloFish before Alba ever made it into Kac's home.

 

No sooner was Alba revealed when controversy came hard and fast. In the mid 2000's, Kac tried to take his bunny home, but the French lab insisted that she stay at the facility. This led to a back-and-forth conflict between the labs, Kac, and the news media covering the cute little glowing bunny.

Ultimately, Eduardo Kac's project never came to its conclusion (especially with the sketchiness of Alba's whereabouts today). Kac probably still has his "Free Alba" flag flying outside his house, waiting for the rest of us to accept that a glowing animal can be just as fine a pet as any other. Hey, we accept Chihuahuas fairly readily.

Bio-Art: Splice.

Anybody who has been paying attention to my writing (ANY of my writing) will know that I, as a person, am a HUGE fan of crossing the human-animal barrier. Scientific gene splicing excites me, if only for the vain hope that I might one day get reptilian scales, bioluminescence, or wings of my very own. Alas, there would be a very dark side to such a contract, even though such advances are inevitable.

Just what would happen if science created another sentient, not-quite-human animal? How would the public take it? The issue of genetic engineering in general is taken to an extreme in Splice, the 2009 movie directed by Vincenzo Natali.

For starters, the opening credits are awesome. The names are made of and put on various biological media, such as veins and snakeskin. We do not even know what we are seeing until the two 'splicing superstars,' Clive and Elsa, take it out of the artificial womb. We just know it's gonna be creepy as all hell from the opening alone.

We are not exposed to the film's cover monster at first. Instead, we spend a lot of time with the animate, genetically-enhanced turds named Fred and Ginger. Despite all appearances, Fred and Ginger are very valuable. They are organisms designed for the sole purpose of engineering drugs for use in livestock.

DNA helix -> disembodied genitals -> pills. It's that simple.

Fred and Ginger are only the first step in this drug-producing project. The two splicers eventually want to incorporate human DNA into the template to address any number of species-specific diseases. (They only cover the genetically-linked ones, such as Parkinson's and cancer - the usual suspects, as it were - but really, right now pigs and rats make most of our medicine.) Adding human genes to Ginger and Fred would indeed be the "medical breakthrough of the century."

Unfortunately, the bigger company only wants the special genes in Fred and Ginger. As one of the board members rightfully points out, politicians would tear anything involving human DNA to pieces (even though science has gone there already with rabbit and cow chimeras - lab-only, mind). Clive and Elsa have their department compromised until they can isolate the single protein that will rake in the dough.

So the two splicers go "screw you" and make a human-animal hybrid anyways. Elsa even goes the extra mile and creates a viable hybrid being as opposed to just DNA in a vat. The fetus grows faster than expected, meaning that, just as the two splicers are having an intimate moment, the cloning machine goes crazy with the weight of the growing fetus. The movie then proceeds to show exactly how bad things get with this hybrid baby, including monster sex with both parents. Yes, both parents.

This is honestly the less offensive of the two scenes.

The premise of the movie, as per a quote from the director, is "the way science is catching up with much of the fiction out there." This is so very true, but I wish it had been more embedded into the setting. We had several points at which the impact of genetically-modified organisms in general could have been discussed, or at least highlighted. You thought splicing human DNA into something was bad? There are people who object very strongly to GMO corn, and that's just a plasmid gene swap for pest resistance.

Science does not see eye-to-eye with ethics. A human hybrid would indeed be just as controversial as the big bosses said it would be. The cow-human and chimeras are under the restriction that they must be destroyed after a few weeks. I can guarantee that, in the near future, someone, somewhere will break that rule and carry a hybrid baby to term.  "If God didn't want us to explore his domain, why did he give us the map?" is indeed the condensed version of science as a whole.

Lucifer? That you, homie?

Although it was clearly written with 'science gone wrong' in mind, many aspects of Splice are just weird for the sake of weird. There was no need for the sex change or some of Dren's stranger attributes (the stinger, for example). Although Fred and Ginger were meant to be more utilitarian than aesthetically-appealing, was there no better way to represent that than with disembodied cocks? A lot of it is just strange because. These guys are supposed to be splicing superstars. You'd think they would know how to make something look pretty as well as scientific.

Some of Splice does not even feel like a science project. Once we figure out that Elsa used her own DNA in Dren, it becomes more of a parenting allegory than a story about science gone wild. Look closely during Dren's birthing scene and one notices that Elsa is never shown from the waist down, experiences severe pain, and is really out-of-it by the whole ordeal. Still, human babies are more mortifying than anything they could have spliced, so Dren was the better move.

Speaking of Dren, the monster is more compelling a character than either of the two scientists for most of the movie. We see her grow, realize that she herself is not human, and develop her own extra-specific feelings for her parents. When she's strapped to the surgery table, we feel sorry for her, even though she just attacked a cat and her biological mother. There's also a sliiiight hint of eugenics peeking through when we learn that Elsa has insanity in her family...

Since human-animal hybrids are inevitable (let's be honest, guys), we will eventually have to think up guidelines for how to treat them. Humanity has not had to deal with a non-human sentient life form in recent history. (This is not counting Neanderthals - those are prehistoric.) Furries, keep watching - you will be subject to EXTREME scrutiny if you ever get your wishes.

I'm not a furry, right? Right?!

Splice is very squicky and definitely not for the faint of heart (it's rated R for a reason), but if you're a fan of seeing science at its worst, give it a try. It does make its point beneath all of the layers and oversights. I am not an advocate of anvillicious writing, but it would not have hurt to show how gene splicing is becoming more and more of a real issue. It's in our meat, it's in our veggies, it's in our drugs, and we don't know what it's doing to us. Splice is a look at the inevitable future of such research.

Bio-Art: Ken Sugimori's Advice: Go to the Zoo!

SO sorry. Classes are starting soon, Splice didn't finish downloading (I'm a baaaad girl), and I'm on edge because one of the classes I was REALLY looking forward to got cancelled. It's official: I'm not a scholar, I'm a knowledge junkie. There's a difference.

Here's something interesting I found to make up for it.

 

Way back when Gen V first started, there was a huge rift in the fanbase. Some people loved the new designs; others hated them. An interview from March 1 reveals that Ken Sugimori took his co-workers to the zoo to help inspire the Generation V designs. He used the experience to expose his design team to different animals.

This should be standard protocol for all monster designers.  We do not care HOW much you like dragons. If you have no experience around real animals, your designs will always feel subpar. The real magic of monster design is making your creatures come to life. You cannot do that without seeing different animals and enjoying them as living things.

So, sci-fi and fantasy creature buffs, how about it? Go to the zoo one day. Bring a notepad and/or a camera. We promise that you will come home with at least a hundred ideas in your head. (This blog is for a rainy day when one cannot get to the zoo, but still seeks inspiration from the natural world. K? K.)

And yet this was still the first Pokemon designed for Gen V. Shows where things are going.

Bio-Art/Myth Week: Shiki.

Permit me to nerd out for more than a minute. Yes, Kuro is an anime fan, and yes, some anime qualifies as bio-art in the simple definition that it combines life sciences with art.



Such is the case with Shiki, a novel written by Fuyumi Ono and manga-fied by Ryuu Fujisaki. Semi-long story short, Sotoba, a rural town in Middle of Nowhere, Japan, suddenly gets an epidemic of summer colds caused by vampire bites. The local doctor soon figures out that the strange cases of anemia going around the village are not a 'natural' occurrence. Shit hits the fan and scatters in EVERY direction. That trope "Anyone Can Die?" We mean it here.

Hoo boy, are there a lot of ways to dissect Shiki (pun not intended). I've looked at it as a Japanese take on a normally Western creature; I've looked at it as an encounter between two sentient races (as expected, it does not end well); I've watched it several times just to take (horribly detailed) notes on this particular type of vampire; hell, there's even a way to look at it as a massive, supernatural analogy for the music industry. This will focus on the science, but no doubt some other things will slip through as well.

Pictured: SCIENCE!

The scientific facets of Shiki hit the reader/viewer hard from day one. Although most vampire stories have an occult doctor (a staple of the genre since Carmilla - a lesbian vampire story which predates Dracula), Toshio Ozaki goes above and beyond by giving us extremely descriptive details of exactly what these vampires are doing. Two different types of anemia and the term "hematocrit" come up within the first two episodes. One of the vampires tries to excuse her nocturnal behavior by passing it off as a form of lupus. Daaang.

Is having pitch-black eyes part of your skin condition, too? All right then!

Just about the only thing dubious about the research that went into this series is Toshio's repeated diagnosis of "bug bites;" vampire bites look a loooot more like pit viper bites, and Japan's most common snake is the hemotoxic mamushi. No reason not to TRY the antivenin, which is supposedly so common that police boxes have it. Nobody tries to make a vaccine throughout the series, either. A few of the reactions were off, but the research was solid.

That was all just background for the only vampires I have ever seen work. Ever.

Left: Anime screenshots. Right: Actual Plasmodium falciparum.

Shiki are caused by a parasite that looks and acts a lot like Plasmodium falciparum - the organism responsible for 90% of all fatal malaria cases. The main differences are the tweaked incubation period (4 in the living body and 4 in the corpse - still a total of 8 before it really takes over) and that P. shiki has flipped the mosquito the bird. Wow, mosquitoes, even malaria hates you now.

"Fuck off!"- sincerely, Plasmodium.

 

There are a number of reasons why something might evolve away from using a mosquito as a vector. Bats eat you, dragonflies eat you, and all it takes is one good bug net to keep you out. There is also some sort of weird internal clock that times things such that the Plasmodia all burst out of the red blood cells at the exact time of night the human body's fever is at its highest and pray that the scheduled mosquito has not been eaten by a bat. Otherwise, it cannot continue its life cycle properly. Screw that.

The (fictional) Plasmodium shiki has taken the mosquito out of the equation by using a human corpse as a vector instead. This would logically have started with a mind-numbed corpse (either resurrected by slowly rewiring circuitry or numbed a la datura) only capable of biting other humans as a means of furthering the parasite's reproductive cycle. Over time, the species would have been selected to keep the memories and personality of its host. Easy food is easy.

Almost everything strange about vampires can be explained by the behavior of a Plasmodium parasite. Plasmodia are blood-borne; the resulting organism has a modified, thinner integument that burns easily in sunlight; the weakness to stakes is, well...almost anything would die by being staked or beheaded. That internal timer was set to shut off as soon as the sun rises, then reactivate when the sun sets.

There are a number of things that are still a touch hard to explain. For example, no extant mammal has retractable injecting teeth. The parasite either recalls ancient genes (atavism- it happens) or constructs the fangs itself via differentiation. Also, we don't know how the parasite does this, but it has activated infrared vision in human corpses (which makes sense; mosquitoes and vampire bats both use infrared to detect warm-blooded prey). There are still a few fantastic elements, but they can be figured out well enough to make solid bio-art/hard fantasy.

Teeth BEHIND the corpse's.

As an anime series in particular, Shiki's pacing is horrible. Do not be fooled by the Shounen Jump label; the additions to the series that make it, ah, shounen-friendly are noticeable. There are some cultural things that the average person will miss, but are fun Easter eggs for those with eyes to see. I'd be lying if I said I didn't thoroughly enjoy Shiki. Swear my parasite nerdiness and Chizuru's rack are not the only reasons.

I'm onto your blood-perfume, Gaga.

Now, if you all will excuse me, I have a tin hat to put on. Google is watching me sleep.

Bio-Art: Avatar.

That's right: After doing Bio-Art features twice in a row, both times on Monday, I decided to make this a thing. Mondays will now be Monster/Bio-Art Mondays, with every Monday featuring a new piece of modern pseudoscience or scientific art. This Monday will be Avatar. K? K.



If you do not know the story of Avatar, you have been living underneath a rock for the last few years. No offense, but very few facets of popular culture have been untouched by Avatar. I also say this because the story is like Dances with Wolves mixed with Ferngully and given LSD. You've probably seen the story before.

Long story short, Jake Sully, an ex-marine, joins a team of scientists on Pandora, a planet with all-new life forms. Sully and some other members of the team are assigned to the Avatar Project in which they mind-sync with genetically-engineered bodies of the planet's key sentient race, the Na'vi. He eventually gets to know the Na'vi so well that, after an epic battle with his old boss, he becomes a Na'vi.

These two get mated for life in a FAR stronger relationship than anything humans can do. Sorry.

Okay, where to start with one of the biggest pieces of pseudo-scientific art since Jurassic Park? How about the hyper-ecology that everybody seems to love?

Hollywood loves to make what I call 'hyper-ecologies.' There is no definition for this in Webster, but in short, it's an ecology that eats earth species for breakfast - literally. The killing in these settings is usually kicked into hyper-drive, meaning that even that world's ladybug is waiting for the right opportunity to murder you. "Everything that crawls, flies or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes." - the mark of a hyper-ecology.

The actual ecology of Pandora, however, is not on crack like it was in Fragment. Along with fierce carnivores like Toruk, the Banshees, and Thanator (BADASS name), we are exposed to a large amount of herbivores. These herbivores look like they could defend themselves - they aren't pansies, but they have evolved to have hooves, tough skin, or creative ways of concealing themselves, just like real herbivores. There are also small predators, like the doglike pack-hunters that attack in the night (which would promptly OWN any domestic dog and remind me of Inca Orchids).  It's meant to be alien, but is really only on par with Australia in ferocity and general strangeness.

Awww, baby viperwolves! I WANNA TAKE ONE HOME!!! <333

Speaking of, despite being isolated like Pandora, Australia did have a lot of convergent evolution with the rest of the world. Pandora takes this to an extreme. Many of the designs were based off of sea life, such as the "Christmas Tree Plant." A lot of the life on Pandora is like earth life with extra limbs, bioluminescent spots (which serve little purpose- this place has day and night) and flashy colors. The Banshees and Toruk are kind of exceptions, but they're probably what would happen if fish eventually took to the air. Or so the textbook says.


The jaws on these guys really speak to their evolutionary lineage.

The Na'vi really push the bar; nearly everything on Pandora has 6 limbs except for them (although we do see the Prolemuris with two limbs fusing). Na'vi are furry Mary Sue/Gary Stu wet dreams, able to control everything in their environment via energy networks. They are overanthropomorphized and played way too straight as the poor native tribe that needs salvation from the white man. It's also mildly annoying that every fictional hominid in every fictional ecosystem I've seen sports a primate-ish ancestor, making reptoids (theoretically descended from troodons) at least more creative than most.

This thing honestly SCARES ME.

 

My overall thoughts on Avatar coincide with those of Red Letter Media: "Well, I didn't hate it." It does not do story or characters well. What it does do well is create a plausible, if derivative, ecosystem. Instead of there being nothing but giant superpredators, there are plants, animals, and several more or less docile species. It feels like a lot of that world's potential is wasted in a movie - even with hours' worth of extra footage, Cameron cannot do his world justice on film.

When RLM said that Avatar felt like "Pandora: the Ride," I was inclined to agree. There were books and an extensive Wiki on the universe. It sounds like it would be a fun world to play around in, either in fanfiction or as a MMO. Most computers come with built-in webcams, now. Use some of that fancy face-mapping technology to make incredibly realistic Na'vi avatars and go. Luckily, James Cameron is already planning on making such a game - don't kill yourselves yet, OK?