I had planned to make a little video to celebrate this final post, but there were, um, technical difficulties:
Ah, well. I tried.
Yes, Typewriter Monkey Task Force is ending at last. Before I lay the blog to rest, I should probably answer a few final questions.
What will happen to your typewriter monkeys?
A few readers have asked about my typewriter monkeys—as a precaution, I presume, in order to stay out of their way. Never fear! I don’t intend to unleash my monkeys upon any of my readers.
My monkeys wanted to set off some fireworks to celebrate the blog’s end, but that never ends well, so I threw them a goodbye party instead. I provided snacks, and they brought their own drinks. (I didn’t even know you could make cocktails with rum and bananas.) They drank enough rum to float a boat, and ate enough bananas to sink one.
While my monkeys slept off their hangovers, I took the opportunity to pack them comfortably in a large crate, and to ship them to Australia.
Goodbye, and good riddance!
Of all places on Earth, the Outback seemed like the one where my monkeys could do the least damage. (Even so, brace yourself, Australia.) If the Mad Max movies are to be believed, the Australian interior is already pretty wild, so my monkeys will fit right in.
What will you do now that TMTF is over?
I will catch up with long overdue housework, sleep, work on my story project, and play some video games… probably not in that order.
For those of us who live far north of the Equator, Christmas comes and goes in the freezing darkness of winter. The holiday season is like a candle flame, burning bright and warm, extinguished in a moment. We clear away the wrapping paper, take down the Christmas trees, and resume our ordinary little lives. The nights, no longer lit by colored lights, are still long. Without the excitement and bustle of the holidays, the cold seems ever more oppressive. Winter loses its charm. The warm feelings of Christmas disappear like last week’s snow.
Christmas isn’t the end of all good things. As Relient K reminds us, “No more lights glistening. No more carols to sing. But Christmas—it makes way for spring.” The bitter cold and long, dark nights give way to warmth, green leaves, and sunny days. Heck, even the very first Christmas was a beginning. It wasn’t the ultimate fulfillment of divine grace and salvation. It merely promised that they were on their way.
I’m a little sad to see TMTF end this week. For all I know, its end may leave you a little sad, too. That’s okay. This blog shall give way to new things, and they will be different, and that’s perfectly fine.
This is the end, but not really. It’s the beginning of something new.
I owe a great debt of gratitude to the many people who have supported this blog over the years. Before it ends next week, I want to thank them. Today’s post is basically TMTF’s end credits. Don’t expect a post-credits scene teasing a sequel, though!
All right, I guess we should start by playing some credits music. Fortunately, YouTube has us covered. For maximum effect, I recommend playing the following video while you read the rest of this post. UPBEAT GUITAR IS GO.
(If the video ends before you finish reading this post, you can find another great credits song here on YouTube.)
I want to start by thanking everyone who contributed guest posts to this blog. It would take too long to thank each of these writers individually, yet I’m grateful for every post they contributed.
These wonderful writers shared their own stories, ideas, and perspectives, making TMTF far more nuanced and interesting than it would have been if only I had written it. Iroh, a character from my all-time favorite show, once said, “It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale.”
They don’t come much wiser than Iroh.
Thank you, guest writers, for lending my blog your wisdom.
I would be remiss not to give a shout out to Jon Acuff and Wes Molebash. Although I no longer follow their work, they were early inspirations for this blog; TMTF probably wouldn’t exist without them. A guest post I wrote for Mr. Acuff gave TMTF an early boost, and Mr. Molebash created one of this blog’s banners, so that’s cool.
This is a fairly accurate representation of my workspace.
Thanks, Jon and Wes. Stay hip.
I owe a huge thank-you to Kevin McCreary, YouTuber extraordinaire, who collaborated with me on a freakin’ rap battle to celebrate TMTF’s two hundredth post. He went so far beyond my timid request for a backing track that it still kinda blows my mind, and while my rapping wasn’t great, his music and mixing were perfect.
You rock, Kevin. Thanks.
I must also thank my other YouTube collaborators, DRWolf001 and Crowne Prince. These video makers are phenomenally creative, and also wolves.
Wolves. Seriously, I don’t make up this stuff.
In a video animated by Crowne Prince, DRWolf and I discussed my experiences blogging, and the good doctor offered some advice. It was a terrific privilege to work with this unlikely pair, and I consider our video a high point for this blog.
Thank you, DRWolf and Crown Prince. Stay creative!
I must give a shout out to a couple of fellow bloggers.Amy Green inspires me with her faith, honesty, compassion, and profound thoughtfulness. Thomas Mark Zuniga taught me a thing or two about the value of transparency and vulnerability over keeping up appearances. They both wrote excellent guest posts for my blog. Heck, Tom even dropped by my home during his EPIC QUEST around the country a while back.
If I am very lucky, I may someday have a beard as nice as Tom’s.
Amy and Tom, thanks for using your gifts so faithfully, and for lending them to my blog.
When I decided to resurrect my dream project, the Lance Eliot saga, I really wanted some concept art for the characters. Sabina Kipa created some excellent character sketches, and when I recently wrote that her skills were matched by her patience and positivity, I meant it.
I love these concept sketches.
Thanks again, Sabina. Keep up the great work!
Last year, a Methodist pastor who read my blog invited me to speak at his church. I embarked upon an epic journey to Wisconsin, drinking inordinate amounts of coffee, and even passing through the tenth circle of hell, which some people call Chicago. The Reverend Kevin Niebuhr turned out to be the manliest Methodist I’ve ever met, and also a kind, geeky gentleman.
It was a great privilege to visit Rev Kev and meet his church family.
Thanks for everything, Rev Kev. God bless you, and if you haven’t already seen the new Star Wars movie, you totally should.
Around the time I started this blog, I watched an Internet cartoon series called Fred the Monkey. I enjoyed these Homestar Runner-esque cartoons about a monkey and his eccentric roommates. It was a surprise when, years later, their creator agreed to write a guest post for my blog—and a staggering shock when he became one of the most supportive and encouraging readers I’ve ever had.
JK Riki did more for TMTF than almost anyone. He wrote guest posts, edited images, created original art, shared insights and encouragements in the comments, and was generally awesome. Honestly, I might have abandoned TMTF a long time ago if JK hadn’t come along to support it.
I’m not sure I trust JK’s monkey around any of mine, though.
I honestly can’t thank you enough, JK. God bless you.
I owe my family thanks for their support, and for not smacking me when I rambled about my blog. My younger brother, John, gets bonus points for letting me share his many wonderful mispronunciations.
Thanks, guys. Stay fabulous.
I want to give extra-special thanks to my dad, who supported TMTF since before I even started it. He created much of its original artwork, including one of its magnificent banners.
From the beginning, I considered this picture one of the best things about my blog. My opinion hasn’t changed.
Besides drawing pictures for this blog, my dad proofread many posts, gave feedback, and offered endless encouragements. If I could thank only one person, it would be he.
Thanks, Pa. You’re a Stout Fella.
I must reluctantly offer thanks to my typewriter monkeys, from whom I will soon part ways: Sophia, Socrates, Plato, Hera, Penelope, Aristotle, Apollo, Euripides, Icarus, Athena, Phoebe, and Aquila.
My monkeys caused a lot of trouble, started countless fires, and didn’t actually help much, but I guess TMTF wouldn’t exist without them, so that’s something.
Thanks for working on the blog, guys. I’ll almost feel bad firing you after TMTF ends next week. Almost.
From the beginning, my philosophy for this blog has been represented by the letters S.D.G. These initials stand for Soli Deo gloria—to God alone be glory. Neither I nor this blog have always followed this philosophy, but it’s a good one, and I stand by it.
Thank you, Father, for TMTF.
Finally, I want to give a round of thanks to this blog’s readers—in other words, to you.
I owe special thanks to readers who commented on blog posts, “Liked” them, or shared them on social media. I appreciate every bit of support. I must also give special thanks to everyone who celebrated Be Nice to Someone on the Internet Day over the years by, y’know, being nice to someone on the Internet. Thanks also to the generous readers who supported this blog’s charity fundraisers.
Writing this blog was quite a journey. I’m glad I didn’t make it alone.
Just for fun, I spent a few hours making this messy mashup from scratch. It has some painful flaws—the tempo wanders like a two-year-old at the zoo—but I enjoyed making it, and might rerecord it someday. Consider this a demo.
No monkeys were harmed in the making of this video.
Well, if it isn’t our friend with the cello. I’ve been in a Star Wars mood lately, and with Rogue One: A Star Wars Story on the horizon, it seems like a good time to revisit some of the best music from the famous film franchise.
Some story elements in the Star Wars movies are pretty weak, but the films have three outstanding strengths.
First is the visual design. Have you seen Darth Vader’s mask and helmet?
At once stern, sad, and inscrutable, this mask and helmet are a masterpiece.
Vader’s armor is amazing. So are the TIE fighters, X-wing fighters, Star Destroyers, stormtrooper outfits, and lightsabers, not to mention the Millennium Falcon. These things are iconic for a reason: their visual design is striking and unique.
Another strength of the films is their sound design. Like the visuals, it’s positively iconic: the buzz and hum of lightsabers, Vader’s breathing, the scream of TIE fighters, and the whine of laser weapons. It’s all so good.
The final great strength of Star Wars is its music. John Williams may be one of the greatest film composers ever, and Star Wars is some of his best work. The video above includes my favorite melodies from the films, including “Main Theme,” “Imperial March,” “Duel of the Fates,” and, of course, “Cantina Band.”
Star Wars is a cultural phenomenon for many reasons, including the strengths I’ve mentioned. They give the franchise an enduring quality, which we remember long after we’ve forgotten Luke Skywalker’s whinier moments and Boba Fett’s embarrassing demise.
What an embarrassing way to go.
I grew up on Star Wars. Besides watching the movies, I played whatever Star Wars games I could find. (These included such cult classics as X-Wing on the PC and Rogue Squadron on the N64. Great games!) I also began reading licensed Star Wars novels within a couple of years of learning to read. My first attempt at writing a book, at roughly age eight, was my own take on a Star Wars novel. I wrote about two paragraphs before giving up. (Writing is hard, man.)
By the time I reached middle school, my passion for Star Wars was dwindling. I had moved on to other media franchises, such as The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and The Legend of Zelda. The final Star Wars movie, Episode III, was a disappointment. (The prequels were all disappointments, really, but I didn’t realize it at the time.) No more films were planned. The licensed novels had become steadily more nonsensical. It wasn’t worth keeping up with the franchise’s convoluted narratives.
Star Wars was dying.
Then, just a few years ago, Disney bought Star Wars. A new film entered development.
The film represented, dare I say, a new hope.
The clutter of the franchise’s expanded universe—three decades’ worth of contradictory stories by dozens of different writers—was swept away, declared by Disney no longer to be Star Wars canon. The first new Star Wars movie was really good. I hadn’t even dared to hope there would be a new movie, let alone a good one.
After ten or eleven years, I’m recovering my interest in Star Wars. It’s exciting and nostalgic. It’s also oddly comforting, like slipping under a warm blanket patterned with TIE fighters. I’m fond of Star Wars, and I’m glad it’s back.
I feel tired. I think many of us do. It has been a rough week, which makes this a good time for a song about laughter, silver linings, and believing the best of others.
(In case you’re wondering, I don’t intend any political subtext here. At the time of writing this post, I’m not sure which candidate won the US presidential election, so please don’t assume I’m talking about politics!)
I’m often a pessimist. One of my greatest faults, with which I struggle daily, is a tendency to think the worst. I assume the worst of situations, and of myself, and especially of other people. It’s a shameful tendency. I’m duly ashamed of it. This song reminds me to give others the benefit of the doubt, and to hope for the best in them.
In other news, I recently started EarthBound, one of the musical inspirations for the song above. It’s a weird game with a weird story. So far, I dig it.
Are you too happy? Is your life just too uplifting? Well, I can think of a song to fix that.
With Halloween just around the corner, and this blog discussing The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask this week, today seems like a good day for ominous music. “Oath to Order,” one of the songs from the game, really lends itself to the hollow tones of a pipe organ.
I would wish you a happy Halloween, but such a wish defeats the point of this gloomy holiday, so I’ll wish you a safe, satisfying, and appropriately sinister Halloween instead!
As long as I’m on the subject of detectives, here’s a sweet, sweet saxophone cover of the theme for Detective Conan. The dog in the video has the right idea: just sit back, relax, and enjoy some smooth sax.
Walt Disney Animation Studios is the most famous, important, and successful animated film studio in history. Its first movie, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, was the first ever feature-length animation. Its latest movie, Zootopia, captivated critics and broke box office records. (It was a touching film with catchy music, and I loved it.)
Walt Disney Animation Studios gave us such enduring classics as Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King… and also The Hunchback of Notre Dame, a movie I still can’t believe was actually made and distributed by Disney. It’s dark.
It’s really dark.
I still can’t believe this film saw the light of day.
The Hunchback of Notre Dame is not only grim, but brilliant: a daring film with pathos, beauty, and gleams of humor. That said, it really doesn’t fit Disney’s kid-friendly image. The movie begins with a corrupt official (one of my favorite Disney villains) pursuing and murdering a woman in front of a church, and then almost murdering her baby.
A tense song narrates the scene, and throws in some vengeful Latin lyrics for good measure: Dies irae, dies illa solvet saeclum in favilla (Day of wrath, that day shall consume the world in ashes). The video above is a dark rock cover of this song. It’s a little edgier than the original… but only a little. A few notes foreshadow another song in the film, “Hellfire,” which is exactly as cheerful as it sounds; its lyrics describe unfulfilled sexual desire, murderous intentions, and literal hell.
Lust, fear, fury, and hellfire—y’know, for kids!
After that first scene, The Hunchback of Notre Dame—which, I remind you, is an animated movie by Disney for kids—goes on to address such family-friendly subjects as physical deformity, child maltreatment, lust, genocide, and eternal damnation. I’m serious. I haven’t even mentioned all the creepy statues and gloomy Gothic imagery.
This is a dark film, and it becomes even darker if the viewer chooses a cynical view of the protagonist’s gargoyle friends. These statues come to life when nobody else is around, like Hobbes in the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip, bringing Quasimodo comfort and hope.
Just who are these guys?
Sure, there are optimistic explanations. Maybe these lively gargoyles are just imaginary friends, or perhaps God brings them to life as companions for Quasimodo. He does live in a church, after all, and the film is underscored by religious themes and imagery.
However, a cynical viewer might dismiss Quasimodo’s gargoyle friends as hallucinations: symptoms of psychosis, or his deranged way of coping with the horrors of his lonely life. This theory is unlikely, but given the other grotesque subjects in the film, it wouldn’t be hard to add mental illness to the list.
So yes, The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a dark film, and also a really good one. I recommend it… but probably not if you’re a kid.
Shovel Knight is an outstanding indie game that delivers fun and adventure in spades. I really dig it. (Shovel puns!) The game’s soundtrack is particularly good, and in the video above, a couple of insanely gifted guitarists strum one of its best tunes.
With Ether is a duo of guitarists whose music I’ve featured once before. The video above is their arrangement of my favorite song from Shovel Knight, “Strike the Earth!” They somehow arranged this fast, deceptively complex chiptune for a couple of acoustic guitars, and it sounds fantastic. The breakneck bit at the thirty-eight second mark amazes me every time I hear it.
Typewriter Monkey Task Force 