Post by Mesila on Sept 5, 2007 3:51:06 GMT -5
An exercise in pondering the nature of power...and a way to kill an afternoon. (Take that, bastard Time, you're no match for a dedicated slacker like moi.)
Movie overlords are always getting one very important point wrong. They base their power on coercion, since it gives them all sorts of chances to be Dramatically Evil. But the smart world dominator opts for persuasion. Coercion is supposed to be effective because you get to have people scared of you, and they spread fear of your overlordship to the ends of the earth.
Trouble is, that's only effective for dinky empires--once they start growing, it becomes problematic.
That's how you end up with hordes of people who want to do you in. And even immortals have their weak spots... and get to suffer much longer when said disgruntled coerced hordes finally outmaneuver the immortal overlord, since the suffering won't be able to be quelled by death.
A good example of a dark lord who blew it is Randall Flagg of Stephen King's The Stand, which turned out to be a better movie than I expected, incidentally. He made the classic mistake: coercion, followed by over-extension. End result: his most worshipful minion, Trashcan Man, ends up being the end of Cibola...aka Las Vegas, in the postapocalyptic USA
So how would you run the Tall Man's franchise if you were in his place? I know what I'd do. First off: I'd choose my minions more carefully. I'd leave the decomposed dead to the worms and the mildew - they've got lousy shelf life even after they're made into undead. Zombies already dead for days start falling apart all over. I think better stronger soldiers come from the errr, freshly crossed
over. But how to get an army to offer up their lives for you?
Take lessons from history: all the political leaders have managed to get thousands to do it for them...after all. Okay, I'd head for the rathole edge cities, former suburbs that are going to pieces, and everyone's literally bored to death, and seek the people victimised by depression, famine, cancer, poverty...and beat the imminent Army recruiters who'd scoop up the minions first if I didn't...
Someone I used to know said "death has a way of being contagious...when you end up surrounded by death you stop wanting to live." These folks in the depressed rural areas won't need much coaxing.
Just communicate to the walking terminally wounded: "Hey, you. Wait, don't off yourself or go spend your last fifty bucks to rot in a hospital, and whatever ya do, stay away from Uncle Sam." Then, while using a little hypnosis, "OK, here's the deal: if you help me build this xenodimensional empire, you can have an indestructible body!" No, don't say "zombie". Zombies can't think.
Tell 'em that all they'll need is a simple operation, and a skull upgrade, slip in this little silver widget, "and poof! New brain, and weapons that'd make a Viking weep."
Of course, some folks'll be balky. Some will just have to respond to this pitch with "go to the devil, ya evil zombie-making overlord! No thanks! I don't want to be evil. And what if that thing in my head gets hungry? They seem to like to drink cerebrospinal fluid..."
I'd wave them off and remind them that the walking wounded are deader than any self-respecting, healthy happy undead, especially with the Secret Xenoformulae for Zombie Nutrition...only side effect's a slight change of blood colour...but hey, it glows in a blacklight, that's really nifty! Plus, impress girls and shy boys with regenerative digits!
Soon enough, I'd have 'em literally dying to follow me through the gates.
So what would you do if Jeb bequeathed his franchise to you? How would you handle the basic problems of maintaining a happy undead army? Hard to improve on old man Morningside, but sooner or later, empires always either fall apart or change...
Mesila.
Movie overlords are always getting one very important point wrong. They base their power on coercion, since it gives them all sorts of chances to be Dramatically Evil. But the smart world dominator opts for persuasion. Coercion is supposed to be effective because you get to have people scared of you, and they spread fear of your overlordship to the ends of the earth.
Trouble is, that's only effective for dinky empires--once they start growing, it becomes problematic.
That's how you end up with hordes of people who want to do you in. And even immortals have their weak spots... and get to suffer much longer when said disgruntled coerced hordes finally outmaneuver the immortal overlord, since the suffering won't be able to be quelled by death.
A good example of a dark lord who blew it is Randall Flagg of Stephen King's The Stand, which turned out to be a better movie than I expected, incidentally. He made the classic mistake: coercion, followed by over-extension. End result: his most worshipful minion, Trashcan Man, ends up being the end of Cibola...aka Las Vegas, in the postapocalyptic USA
So how would you run the Tall Man's franchise if you were in his place? I know what I'd do. First off: I'd choose my minions more carefully. I'd leave the decomposed dead to the worms and the mildew - they've got lousy shelf life even after they're made into undead. Zombies already dead for days start falling apart all over. I think better stronger soldiers come from the errr, freshly crossed
over. But how to get an army to offer up their lives for you?
Take lessons from history: all the political leaders have managed to get thousands to do it for them...after all. Okay, I'd head for the rathole edge cities, former suburbs that are going to pieces, and everyone's literally bored to death, and seek the people victimised by depression, famine, cancer, poverty...and beat the imminent Army recruiters who'd scoop up the minions first if I didn't...
Someone I used to know said "death has a way of being contagious...when you end up surrounded by death you stop wanting to live." These folks in the depressed rural areas won't need much coaxing.
Just communicate to the walking terminally wounded: "Hey, you. Wait, don't off yourself or go spend your last fifty bucks to rot in a hospital, and whatever ya do, stay away from Uncle Sam." Then, while using a little hypnosis, "OK, here's the deal: if you help me build this xenodimensional empire, you can have an indestructible body!" No, don't say "zombie". Zombies can't think.
Tell 'em that all they'll need is a simple operation, and a skull upgrade, slip in this little silver widget, "and poof! New brain, and weapons that'd make a Viking weep."
Of course, some folks'll be balky. Some will just have to respond to this pitch with "go to the devil, ya evil zombie-making overlord! No thanks! I don't want to be evil. And what if that thing in my head gets hungry? They seem to like to drink cerebrospinal fluid..."
I'd wave them off and remind them that the walking wounded are deader than any self-respecting, healthy happy undead, especially with the Secret Xenoformulae for Zombie Nutrition...only side effect's a slight change of blood colour...but hey, it glows in a blacklight, that's really nifty! Plus, impress girls and shy boys with regenerative digits!
Soon enough, I'd have 'em literally dying to follow me through the gates.
So what would you do if Jeb bequeathed his franchise to you? How would you handle the basic problems of maintaining a happy undead army? Hard to improve on old man Morningside, but sooner or later, empires always either fall apart or change...
Mesila.