I remember that the Tick, Ben Edlund's unappreciated blue hero, called himself "nigh" invulnerable. I remember writing a short story in high school in which I used the word. But here, here, outside of the context of childhood fantasy, it exists in the subtitle to the new--perhaps unfortunate--Watchmen videogame. I'm not sure what that means for Hell, but it perhaps is a bit nippy down there.
I'm currently downloading this Watchmen demo. I'll let you all know, but I'm not holding out any hope for this small-screen permutation. All my hope is currently held for Zach Snyder's adaptation of the bigger variety. I'm not a huge fan of his me-proud-kill-enemy movie, 300, although I appreciate its bombast, and, in some way, its uncompromising vision. It's a pretty movie, but like a muscle that flexes for two and a half hours straight, it tires you out. Watchmen--the graphic novel--on the other hand has consumed my students' minds, made them do things they probably never wanted to. Some have performed psychoanalytic criticism on it; some have taken a Foucauldian route. Panopticons and power and such.
Assault on Dark Athena, the semi-sequel to the critically lauded Chronicles of Riddick: Escape from Butcher Bay is also in my download queue right now. For this game, I have a bit more hope. Starbreeze is full of a bunch of extremely talented people who know what "cinematic" and "fidelity" means--or should mean--in this strange world where comic books are becoming cannon. Also, it's got pitch black mode. Awesome.
Elemental1st, one of our other Somnambulant, and I have an ongoing grudge match in Street Fighter IV. We get pretty competitive in these sorts of things, but it's always with laughs and our fiery humors about us. His Cammy is pretty fierce, as is my Blanka, so naturally our games come down to slivers of life and some intense waiting and guessing. It's not quite rock, paper, sissors, but these key moments have the feeling of genuine strategy. Do I jump in, risking life and limb for a winning blow, or do I charge a Blanka-ball, hoping he doesn't block and counter? To our fighter-savvy readers, these examples will sound notably unsophisticated. But to bring up the philosophical question, I'm not really sure what to call some of the techniques. "Combo" doesn't seem to give the moment its due respect, while "chain" feels like I'm bound by the game's fetters. "Move" seems aptly broad enough, while suggesting a single move might, in some circumstances, be the right one. Good move. Good enough.