Dedication
An epilogue to my Tenchi Muyo! discussion from before, I put it back in and watched the extras. This mostly turned out to be a music video of the closing credits, and some sort of mini-documentary made by the producers in Japan, in which the musicians for the anime went on a "pilgrimage" to Okayama Prefecture, the real-life locale in Japan where Tenchi Muyo! is set. See, a lot of the characters were named for geographical locations in the area (e.g. Mt. Washu, the Great Seto Bridge, Bisei a.k.a Mihoshi Observatory, etc.), so I guess if you've got some time to kill and you're a big enough fan of the show, you can wander around down there and check them all out. I guess I'm not a big enough fan to appreciate this, because to me this was just a couple of Japanese people walking around in Japan, speaking Japanese, which I would imagine happens rather frequently every day, except this time someone taped it and got me to pay money for it.
Seriously, a pilgrimage to see the actual cave Ryoko was sealed away in on the cartoon? That'd be like if I went to a police station in Jersey to see the actual file cabinet Penry used to change into Hong Kong Phooey. And I'm a big fan of Ryoko's but that only goes so far with me. Past a point, she's just Hong Kong Phooey with a plasma cutlass and tits. And at least Hong Kong Phooey didn't live out in the sticks. The whole place looked like somebody's backyard, but on a damn mountain, so there's like a billion concrete stairs everywhere. Wow, climbing these stairs is just as dull as when they do it on the cartoon! That's probably why aliens usually ambush you there on the cartoon, to break up the tedium. In Real Japan, not so much.
Fortunately, some of the scenery was rather impressive, and the lady who sings the closing credits was friggin' hot, which almost made up for her custom of attaching notes of well-wishes to the various sights on her trip, apparently a token of religious endorsement for the success of the Tenchi franchise. In fact, the second stop on their journey was to a Shinto shrine, where they say a prayer for OAV3. I'm pretty sure the souls of your dead ancestors have better things to do with their time, but what do I know? From the look of things, a lot of other people had passed through doing the exact same thing, like Okayama is Tenchi's version of King's Island or something. I didn't really pay attention, but I'm not entirely sure the observatory isn't some sort of fan-operated shrine on the side, too. None of this exactly makes me regret worshipping a Jewish carpenter, if you know what I mean.
All right, I need to get this stupid book done. Three months is a lot quicker than the last one went down, but I still didn't plan on taking this much time to finish it. Maybe it says something that my fandom has gotten me thinking about cosmological theory, while Harry Potter has me firmly entrenched in the ins and outs of... the Dusty Finish.
So as of the previous chapter, everything appears to be wrapped up. Sirius Black has reconciled with his best bud Remus Lupin, and his godson Harry Potter. He's not the mass murderer and commie rat everyone made him out to be, and he's got the ultimate proof: one of his "victims", Peter Pettigrew, who actually did all the terrible things for which Black was convicted, had been living in secret for years in the guise of an ordinary pet rat, coincidentally living with Harry's best friend Ron Weasley. Now that Black's escaped and exposed Pettigrew as being alive and guilty, all that remains is to drag his ass back to Hogwarts, explain the situation to the authorities, and he's golden. So it's Remus, Sirius, Harry, Ron, Hermione (a plucky girl character), Crookshanks (a cat), and Snape (this crazy guy who wandered into the scene for no reason and got knocked unsconcious) all heading back to the castle via a secret tunnel, with their prisoner securely in tow. Everything's aces, right? All that's left is the big finish, and the book's a done deal.
But that's the trouble, Rowling just can't figure out how to wrap this puppy up. You can imagine her, sitting in her writing room on Mars, sometime in the 1880's or whenever this book was written, trying to figure out the best way to cap things off and still leave the readers eager to pick up the sequel when the time comes. Oh, if only her muse could give her a push in the right direction. If only!
Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican ......... Dreeeee-eee-eeam
He's just a common man.
Workin' hard with his hands.
He's just a common man
Workin' hard for the man.
Hey he's Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican Dreeeee-eee-eeam.
Hey he's Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican Dreeeee-eee-eeam.
Don't matter if you're black or white.
He keeps something, that's all right.
Working hard lotta soul.
Kinda shaped like a dinner roll.
Yeah he's the Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican Dreeeee-eee-eeam.
Hey he's the Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican Dreeeee-eee-eeam!"
That's right, folks, J.K. Rowling's muse, the very source of her inspiration that has led her to become a super billionaire writer, is none other than three-time World Heavyweight Champion, WCW Hall of Famer, TNA Director of Authority, and all-around big pasty tub of lard, the American Dream, Dusty Rhodes. Stardust wastes no time in consulting Rowling on the perfect way to resolve her dilemma.
"Now y'see here, Jaykayrowlin', the 'Merican Dream.... Duthty Rhodes, is here to solve your problems. Just like I solved Dubyaseedubya's problems when I worked for 'em, forcin' the Nature Boy Ric Flair to kiss a donkey's ass in the middle of the arena! Just like I solved the Dubyadubyaeff's problems, when I dressed up in a big polka-dotted outfit and started clubberin' supastars with the lovely Sapphire at my side. Just like I solved the New Wuld Odder's problems, when I joined the New Wuld Odder and presented Livinlegendlarryzybysko with a GAG ODDER. Just like I solved TNA's problems when I became the Director of Authoritah, workin' out the back of a pickup truck with a bunch of gorgeous gals in the bed of it! Now Jaykayrowlin', what you need to do, is you need to listen to the advice of the 'Merican Dream Dusty Rhodes. Back when I was bookin' the shows for the NWA, I'd make sure that the main event was always the most important thing on the fans minds. Lottathetime, it'd come down to the two most important figures in the roster, the BEST of the BEST, if yew weel, the Nature Boy Ric Flair, and the 'Merican Dream Duthty Rhodes. But to keep from havin' too many title changes, you'd have to keep the fans guessin', if yew weel, and that's why it was important to make the finish real ambiguous, if yew weel. On the one hand, you'd have the babyface, that's the hero, if yew weel, he'd win the match, and then the referee, he would reverse the decision, and that way the other guy, the heel if yew weel, he'd get to keep the title, so we could do the same match all over again in the next town. And we made a lotta money, which was how Ted Turna decided to give us our own show on Saturday night, the MOTHASHIP, if you weel."
And Rowling would listen carefully, and after asking him to repeat that several more times, she'd finally understand what he was saying. For those of you who don't speak Stardust, I'll put it simply: a Dusty Finish is called that because Dusty relied so heavily upon it during his tenure booking wrestling events in the old NWA. Back in those days, wrestling was divided up into territories across North America, loosely confederated under the NWA. Your territory's wrestlers could then tour from town to town, sometimes passing through other territories (with their blessing, of course), and basically perform the exact same shows over and over, since each region would only see it the one time. The problem is that the ambiguous nature of the finish makes the main event somewhat unsatisfying, and while this might lure the fans into seeing a future show in the hopes of a rematch, eventually they'd become jaded to the product, and stop caring about it altogether.
Typically a wrestling match is a good guy versus a bad guy, with a referee to enforce the rules and declare the victor, by pinfall (winner immobilizes the loser on the mat), submission (loser gives up), countout (loser leaves the ring and fails to re-enter after ten-count), or disqualification (loser violates the rules). In the case of a championship, the title only changes hands on a pinfall or submission. So a champion might lose via DQ or count-out, but he'll retain the title nonetheless. The Dusty Finish is founded upon this principle, as it allows a means to have one man win a match without the other man necessarily losing anything in the process.
This is engineered by a ref bump, where the referee is knocked unconscious during the match, and a second referee rushes to the ring to officiate the match in his place. The good guy pins the evil champion, and the second ref awards him the match and the title. And the crowd goes wild... UNTIL, the first referee wakes up, and declares that whatever action took place while he was unconscious to be null and void. Since it's usually one of the wrestlers who hit him in the first place, the first ref will disqualify him, and award the match to the other. Like most of the rules in professional wrestling, this is never really explained, but it's implied that the first referee has the final authority over the match, so if he chooses to reverse the second ref's decision, he's within his right to do so. So you end up with the situation where the face seems to win the title, only to have it snatched away from him. He still wins the match, but the victory is meaningless since it was only because the heel bumped the referee.
This is the prototypical Dusty finish, although there are variations, such as the first ref waking up in time to see a double pinfall, and then he and the second ref count for each wrestler independently of each other, and then argue over which decision is the correct one. Typically, this would end up as a draw, although the referees might decide to restart the match, only for the heel to end up winning anyway. The term "Dusty Finish" has since been expanded to cover all sorts of similarly convoluted, ambivalent outcomes: a promoter or commissioner reverses the referee's decision, the time limit expires, the referee declares a winner but finds out someone cheated after the fact, and so on. Pretty much any finish that gives the fans a hollow sense of victory is regarded as a Dusty Finish.
Now, why is this bad? Well, professional wrestling is basically a predetermined exhibition, more of a dramatization of a sport than an actual sport in itself. Unlike football, for example, where the drama is in the uncertainty of events and the element of random chance, the appeal to wrestling lies in the fact that the drama is crafted like a story. That's why they call them "bookers", because they literally book the outcomes of each show, and good bookers will try to ensure that there's a good story being told in the ring, so that each match is a conflict between good and evil, and the fans genuinely care about who wins and what'll happen next. People say wrestling is fake, and they're right, but that's like saying a novel is fake. There was never anyone named Harry Potter who attended a magic acedemy in Scotland. Everything in the book is a lie, but people still buy it to see how it'll turn out. Similarly, the only reason John Cena is the WWE champion right now is because a group of guys in Connecticut decided he'd be the champion. He didn't actually defeat anyone to win it, but in a sense, he still earned it because people will pay money to see him defend it at the next show, and that's a quality all wrestlers aspire to achieve. In other words, professional wrestling lives or dies based on how compelling their wrestlers are to audiences. It's all about charisma, and wrestlers build charisma by competing in matches, becoming more loved or hated with each contest they "win".
The Dusty Finish, however, cuts that process off at the knees. On the surface, it seems like an ideal situation, because if the Challenger wins the match while the Champion retains the title, then everyone wins, so everyone becomes more over with the fans, meaning that they'll be twice as likely to come to the next show. The problem with that is that if everyone wins, then no one loses, and the victory is hollow. A champion's supposed to be the best wrestler in the promotion, so who wants to see a champion who can't even win a match? And what's the use in a winner who doesn't get the title? Besides this, on a more fundamental level, the Dusty Finish deals with technicalities and the legal loopholes that surround the wrestling rules. What's supposed to be a simple contest of strength and skill between two men turns into a matter of semantics revolving around referees and men in suits. Used sparingly, the idea is a strange plot twist that might arouse the fans' curiosity, but in excess, the fans begin to lose confidence in the promotion's ability to entertain them.
This was my problem with Book VI, because the book meandered for twenty chapters to finally reveal the point of the book was to get these Horcruxes, and then when they go to all the trouble to retrieve one, it turns out the stupid thing was a decoy. It sucks, because the good guys are made to appear incompetent rather than heroic, and the bad guys end up looking like they only prevailed by chance instead of ruthlessness or guile. HP fans can keep telling me Half-Blood Prince was just the first half of a larger, then-unfinished novel, but that's bull. Half-Blood Prince came to a conclusion. Ithad a finish. A Dusty Finish. And as a wrestling fan who doesn't watch must wrestling anymore, I'm long past the point where you can jerk me around by the balls with that sort of thing.
And this book? Hey, guess what, it's no different. If anything, it's an even more pure example of the Dusty Finish applied to literature. Slap a striped robe on Snape and it'd be perfect. I should probably just shut up and get to the action, though, so we can all see for ourselves.
Chapter 20: The Dementor's Kiss
(Original Japanese Chapter: "Harry and Hermione's Operation: Don't Get Our Souls Eaten by the Dementors")
So like I was saying, the good guys seem to have the case all wrapped up, and now all that remains is to take Pettigrew and the unconscious Snape back to Hogwarts. Along the way, Sirius and Harry discuss the ramifications of what he's just revealed to him. As his godfather and a free man, Black could now fufill his obligation to Harry, and they could live together. In a moment of irony, he supposes that Harry's too attached to his aunt and uncle to go along with such an idea, but "Webster" this ain't, and Harry's all too eager to ditch his mom's side of the family and shack up with the scruffy homeless guy he just met less than an hour ago. At least he asks Black if he even has a home for them to live in.
This actually strikes me as a good arrangement. As I've been saying from the beginning, Harry's lack of any devoted father figure is apparent throughout the series. Bad enough his actual dad's dead, but there doesn't seem to be a single adult in his life who's willing to hold him accountable for his actions. Snape will bitch and moan about all the stuff Harry pulls, and Dumbledore will calm him down from time to time, and Hagrid seems to be good for a guilt trip or two, but none of that ever sinks in. I'm talking about a guy who doesn't take any crap. Someone who'd say "If you so much as look at Aunt Marge funny again, I'll take that Firebolt of yours and snap it in half. You want to be treated like a man, maybe it's time you started acting like one for a change." But still managing to earn enough respect that it wouldn't all go in one ear and out the other. At the very least, it would have made a nice change of pace for these books, with Harry and Sirius living in some run-down shack in the forest, living off racoon meat or whatever the hell they got in Scotland, and burping and farting to their hearts' content. But alas, this is not to be.
So they get out of the tunnel, well after sunset now, and then a cloud moves in the sky revealing the full moon. Right on cue, Lupin starts to transform, and so Black tells the rest of them to clear out so he can hold Lupin at bay. Part of the trouble here is that Lupin was chained up to Peter and Ron, so there's no easy way for them to get away until after he's in full wolf mode, when I presume the manacle wouldn't be snug against his leg anymore. So Sirius turns into Huckleberry Hound to fight with Lupin's Hokey Wolf, and in the ensuing chaos, Peter manages to get Lupin's wand, incapacitate Ron, and transform into his rat mode, allowing him to scurry into the night, never to be found. Black manages to force Lupin to retreat into the forest, and then sets after Peter, leaving Harry and Hermione alone with the unconscious Snape and Ron.
Sirius might have a decent chance of tracking down Peter, but this chapter wasn't titled "Sirius catches Peter", now, is it? Before Harry can even decide what to do next, he hears Sirius crying out in pain, and he and Hermione rush to his aid. They find him by the lake, reverted to his human form, and cowering before at least a hundred dementors. So no matter what happens next, Peter's pretty much flown the coop, and the trail will be ice cold by the time this confrontation is resolved. Without Peter, Black has no way to prove his innocence, and in a matter of pages, the whole resolution to the plot has been undone.
And, just like a Dusty Finish, this has nothing to do with the villains being clever. Peter simply took advantage of happenstance, and the dementors interference is simply guided by instinct. No, this entire development can be explained in four simple words: Werewolfism Makes You Retarded.
I mean, really, how am I supposed to accept this? Lupin's a werewolf, he doesn't like being a werewolf, as evidenced by his fear of the full moon, and his efforts to keep his curse a secret. So we're supposed to believe that he simply forgot that there was a full moon out tonight? The one time of the month that puts him on Double Red Alert, and it somehow slipped his mind? I mean, I've forgotten to pay my cable bill on time once or twice, but that doesn't cause me intense pain and makes me a danger to myself and others.
But OK, let's give him that. Lupin might conceivably lose track of time, and forget that the full moon would be out that night. Except that's stupid, because when you consider everything he's been doing all night, it shoul all tie back to him being a werewolf. First he checks out the Marauder's Map (which he and his friends were inspired to write in part because of his werewolf status), then he follows Black and the nWo into the secret tunnel Dumbledore dug for him because he was a werewolf, into the dilapidated shack he spent the night in when he turned into a wolf. Once there, he tells everyone the story of how he's been getting along all these years as a werewolf, and why it kind of sucks for him to be one. He also mentions the potion he's been taking to help him control his werewolf tendencies. Then the guy who MAKES THE POTION FOR HIM shows up, and he causally REMINDS HIM THAT HE HASN'T TAKEN HIS DOSE OF POTION YET. Lupin's only possible defense is that he was fully aware of the date, and was banking on getting back to his office before dark, except that the sun was already going down when he left. One could argue that he couldn't tell it was dark out because he wasn't near any open windows in the Shrieking Shack, but the guy doesn't have a damn watch?
So no, there's no other explanation. Obviously, the curse of the werewolf not only turns you into a werewolf, but it deliberately causes brain damage so you're too dumb to take simple steps to prevent it from happening. And now everyone pays the price for Lupin's incurable idiocy.
You know, I just notice this chapter's really short, too. If I hadn't wasted all this time on Big Dust and the Hong Kong Phooey Pilgrimage, I'd have been done already. By the by, I was checking out ol' HKP on Wikipedia, you know the police sergeant who sounded like Gunther Toody from Car 54? No? Oh, right, I'm frigging ancient, I forgot. Well, the reason he sounds like Gunther Toody is because he was Gunther Toody, just doing the same voice again for the cartoon. Ooh, ooh! PENRY!
So where was I? Right, right, they're all face to face with the dementors. All of 'em, I guess, since I can't imagine there being many more than a hundred. Well, somebody must have stayed behind to watch the prison, but... aw, shock it. So according to Black, the dementors' powers don't affect you as much when you turn into an animal, so why is he even in any trouble here? Unless the dementors forced him to change back somehow, or he did that himself for some reason and they got the drop on him. Neither seems very likely, but it is what it is, and he's down for the count, and possibly nude, since I'm not entirely sure if you can transfigure your clothes when you turn into animals. Let's just assume he's nude, since that'd be a little bonus for the ladies.
But Harry's been preparing for this all semester, so he wastes no time whipping out his wand and making ready for a Spirit Bomb. Wait, my bad, he's gonna do the Patronus Charm. Would have been better of learning the Spirit Bomb, you ask me, which you didn't. All right, so the combo for the Patronus Charm is Punch, Punch, Forward Punch, Cancel, Up, Down, Kick, Forward Kick, Back Kick, Punch, Punch, Cancel, Punch Kick Energy Attack. Yeah, he's boned. Nonetheless, he tries to focus on a happy memory, and starts chanting "Expecto Patronum" over and over. Of course, his "memory" is the notion that he'll get to leave the Dursleys and live with his newfound godfather, but that's more of a possibility than an actual recollection. At best, a "thin silver wisp escaped his wand", which is pretty damn gross. Hermione passes out shortly after. Hey, it happens to every man at some time or another, Hermione. Let's not give him too hard a time about it.
So this is Harry's big chance to face his fear, and he's completely whizzed it. The dementors easily bat aside his amorphous, half-assed patronus, and one of them pulls down his hood to administer the soul-eating kiss. Recall they were only authorized to do this to Black, which goes to show that the Ministry never really had any control over these things to begin with. So they're gonna polish off Harry first, since he's the only one putting up any resistance. You'd think the dementors would each insist on being the one to do the honors. They don't get to do this sort of thing very often, I'd imagine, and yet it's just this one here who's taking the initiative. Maybe they share the soul later like ants, or maybe they had a rochambeau tournament in advance.
And then out of nowhere, this big glowy animal rushes in and chases all the dementors away. With his last ounce of strength, Harry tries to follow it with his eyes, and just before he passes out, he sees the thing run back to its master on the opposite side of the lake, a guy who looks sort of familiar...
So to summarize, everyone is a giant feeb. Lupin's retarded. Attempts to convince me otherwise will be met with harsh reprisals. Just argue with Jim about whether Snape deserves anyone's pity. That never gets old. Ron's chained to Peter to keep him from escaping, and he chokes at the first possible opportunity. Sirius can escape from prison and beat a werewolf with his dog powers, but for some reason they konk out on him when it's least convenient. He's dead meat against the dementors, but Harry can save him, because he spent the last six months learning--oh, wait, no he can't. And of course, Hermione just faints straight away. We've gone from slam dunk to F.U.B.A.R. in less than six pages.
THIS is why I hate these books, right here. I mean, besides the fact that Harry Potter is in them. By this point, we should be around the big climax, setting up the resolution to all the various plotlines, but Rowling only seems interested in reinforcing that all her characters are colossal morons, incapable of even the simplest tasks. Like I needed a freaking reminder. Why did I read a whole chapter about Lupin teaching Harry self-defense if Harry's just gonna fold when the time comes to apply what he's learned? Yes, I've read ahead, and I know he gets a do-over, but Wedge didn't have to make six passes at the Death Star main reactor to blow it up in Return of the Jedi. He did it once and escaped. This isn't just to save time, it's to establish that he's a ace pilot and a crack shot.
The worst part about all this is that Rowling clearly understands the concept of a pay-off. She spent the whole book leading up to the revelation that Lupin's a werewolf, amd then wisely recognized that this would be kind of lame unless he actually transformed somewhere in the story. I find the timing absurd, but at least he did it. And yet Harry spends all this time learning the Patronus Charm, and this is what we get out of it. He was passing out like a chump when the book STARTED. Some hero. And again, do-over, don't even bother trying to use that excuse. That's a whole other set of bullcrap that'll have to wait until next time.
RATING: BAD
NEXT: Push it to the limit...
Seriously, a pilgrimage to see the actual cave Ryoko was sealed away in on the cartoon? That'd be like if I went to a police station in Jersey to see the actual file cabinet Penry used to change into Hong Kong Phooey. And I'm a big fan of Ryoko's but that only goes so far with me. Past a point, she's just Hong Kong Phooey with a plasma cutlass and tits. And at least Hong Kong Phooey didn't live out in the sticks. The whole place looked like somebody's backyard, but on a damn mountain, so there's like a billion concrete stairs everywhere. Wow, climbing these stairs is just as dull as when they do it on the cartoon! That's probably why aliens usually ambush you there on the cartoon, to break up the tedium. In Real Japan, not so much.
Fortunately, some of the scenery was rather impressive, and the lady who sings the closing credits was friggin' hot, which almost made up for her custom of attaching notes of well-wishes to the various sights on her trip, apparently a token of religious endorsement for the success of the Tenchi franchise. In fact, the second stop on their journey was to a Shinto shrine, where they say a prayer for OAV3. I'm pretty sure the souls of your dead ancestors have better things to do with their time, but what do I know? From the look of things, a lot of other people had passed through doing the exact same thing, like Okayama is Tenchi's version of King's Island or something. I didn't really pay attention, but I'm not entirely sure the observatory isn't some sort of fan-operated shrine on the side, too. None of this exactly makes me regret worshipping a Jewish carpenter, if you know what I mean.
All right, I need to get this stupid book done. Three months is a lot quicker than the last one went down, but I still didn't plan on taking this much time to finish it. Maybe it says something that my fandom has gotten me thinking about cosmological theory, while Harry Potter has me firmly entrenched in the ins and outs of... the Dusty Finish.
So as of the previous chapter, everything appears to be wrapped up. Sirius Black has reconciled with his best bud Remus Lupin, and his godson Harry Potter. He's not the mass murderer and commie rat everyone made him out to be, and he's got the ultimate proof: one of his "victims", Peter Pettigrew, who actually did all the terrible things for which Black was convicted, had been living in secret for years in the guise of an ordinary pet rat, coincidentally living with Harry's best friend Ron Weasley. Now that Black's escaped and exposed Pettigrew as being alive and guilty, all that remains is to drag his ass back to Hogwarts, explain the situation to the authorities, and he's golden. So it's Remus, Sirius, Harry, Ron, Hermione (a plucky girl character), Crookshanks (a cat), and Snape (this crazy guy who wandered into the scene for no reason and got knocked unsconcious) all heading back to the castle via a secret tunnel, with their prisoner securely in tow. Everything's aces, right? All that's left is the big finish, and the book's a done deal.
But that's the trouble, Rowling just can't figure out how to wrap this puppy up. You can imagine her, sitting in her writing room on Mars, sometime in the 1880's or whenever this book was written, trying to figure out the best way to cap things off and still leave the readers eager to pick up the sequel when the time comes. Oh, if only her muse could give her a push in the right direction. If only!
Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican ......... Dreeeee-eee-eeam
He's just a common man.
Workin' hard with his hands.
He's just a common man
Workin' hard for the man.
Hey he's Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican Dreeeee-eee-eeam.
Hey he's Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican Dreeeee-eee-eeam.
Don't matter if you're black or white.
He keeps something, that's all right.
Working hard lotta soul.
Kinda shaped like a dinner roll.
Yeah he's the Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican Dreeeee-eee-eeam.
Hey he's the Ah-merrrr-err-err-err-ican Dreeeee-eee-eeam!"
That's right, folks, J.K. Rowling's muse, the very source of her inspiration that has led her to become a super billionaire writer, is none other than three-time World Heavyweight Champion, WCW Hall of Famer, TNA Director of Authority, and all-around big pasty tub of lard, the American Dream, Dusty Rhodes. Stardust wastes no time in consulting Rowling on the perfect way to resolve her dilemma.
"Now y'see here, Jaykayrowlin', the 'Merican Dream.... Duthty Rhodes, is here to solve your problems. Just like I solved Dubyaseedubya's problems when I worked for 'em, forcin' the Nature Boy Ric Flair to kiss a donkey's ass in the middle of the arena! Just like I solved the Dubyadubyaeff's problems, when I dressed up in a big polka-dotted outfit and started clubberin' supastars with the lovely Sapphire at my side. Just like I solved the New Wuld Odder's problems, when I joined the New Wuld Odder and presented Livinlegendlarryzybysko with a GAG ODDER. Just like I solved TNA's problems when I became the Director of Authoritah, workin' out the back of a pickup truck with a bunch of gorgeous gals in the bed of it! Now Jaykayrowlin', what you need to do, is you need to listen to the advice of the 'Merican Dream Dusty Rhodes. Back when I was bookin' the shows for the NWA, I'd make sure that the main event was always the most important thing on the fans minds. Lottathetime, it'd come down to the two most important figures in the roster, the BEST of the BEST, if yew weel, the Nature Boy Ric Flair, and the 'Merican Dream Duthty Rhodes. But to keep from havin' too many title changes, you'd have to keep the fans guessin', if yew weel, and that's why it was important to make the finish real ambiguous, if yew weel. On the one hand, you'd have the babyface, that's the hero, if yew weel, he'd win the match, and then the referee, he would reverse the decision, and that way the other guy, the heel if yew weel, he'd get to keep the title, so we could do the same match all over again in the next town. And we made a lotta money, which was how Ted Turna decided to give us our own show on Saturday night, the MOTHASHIP, if you weel."
And Rowling would listen carefully, and after asking him to repeat that several more times, she'd finally understand what he was saying. For those of you who don't speak Stardust, I'll put it simply: a Dusty Finish is called that because Dusty relied so heavily upon it during his tenure booking wrestling events in the old NWA. Back in those days, wrestling was divided up into territories across North America, loosely confederated under the NWA. Your territory's wrestlers could then tour from town to town, sometimes passing through other territories (with their blessing, of course), and basically perform the exact same shows over and over, since each region would only see it the one time. The problem is that the ambiguous nature of the finish makes the main event somewhat unsatisfying, and while this might lure the fans into seeing a future show in the hopes of a rematch, eventually they'd become jaded to the product, and stop caring about it altogether.
Typically a wrestling match is a good guy versus a bad guy, with a referee to enforce the rules and declare the victor, by pinfall (winner immobilizes the loser on the mat), submission (loser gives up), countout (loser leaves the ring and fails to re-enter after ten-count), or disqualification (loser violates the rules). In the case of a championship, the title only changes hands on a pinfall or submission. So a champion might lose via DQ or count-out, but he'll retain the title nonetheless. The Dusty Finish is founded upon this principle, as it allows a means to have one man win a match without the other man necessarily losing anything in the process.
This is engineered by a ref bump, where the referee is knocked unconscious during the match, and a second referee rushes to the ring to officiate the match in his place. The good guy pins the evil champion, and the second ref awards him the match and the title. And the crowd goes wild... UNTIL, the first referee wakes up, and declares that whatever action took place while he was unconscious to be null and void. Since it's usually one of the wrestlers who hit him in the first place, the first ref will disqualify him, and award the match to the other. Like most of the rules in professional wrestling, this is never really explained, but it's implied that the first referee has the final authority over the match, so if he chooses to reverse the second ref's decision, he's within his right to do so. So you end up with the situation where the face seems to win the title, only to have it snatched away from him. He still wins the match, but the victory is meaningless since it was only because the heel bumped the referee.
This is the prototypical Dusty finish, although there are variations, such as the first ref waking up in time to see a double pinfall, and then he and the second ref count for each wrestler independently of each other, and then argue over which decision is the correct one. Typically, this would end up as a draw, although the referees might decide to restart the match, only for the heel to end up winning anyway. The term "Dusty Finish" has since been expanded to cover all sorts of similarly convoluted, ambivalent outcomes: a promoter or commissioner reverses the referee's decision, the time limit expires, the referee declares a winner but finds out someone cheated after the fact, and so on. Pretty much any finish that gives the fans a hollow sense of victory is regarded as a Dusty Finish.
Now, why is this bad? Well, professional wrestling is basically a predetermined exhibition, more of a dramatization of a sport than an actual sport in itself. Unlike football, for example, where the drama is in the uncertainty of events and the element of random chance, the appeal to wrestling lies in the fact that the drama is crafted like a story. That's why they call them "bookers", because they literally book the outcomes of each show, and good bookers will try to ensure that there's a good story being told in the ring, so that each match is a conflict between good and evil, and the fans genuinely care about who wins and what'll happen next. People say wrestling is fake, and they're right, but that's like saying a novel is fake. There was never anyone named Harry Potter who attended a magic acedemy in Scotland. Everything in the book is a lie, but people still buy it to see how it'll turn out. Similarly, the only reason John Cena is the WWE champion right now is because a group of guys in Connecticut decided he'd be the champion. He didn't actually defeat anyone to win it, but in a sense, he still earned it because people will pay money to see him defend it at the next show, and that's a quality all wrestlers aspire to achieve. In other words, professional wrestling lives or dies based on how compelling their wrestlers are to audiences. It's all about charisma, and wrestlers build charisma by competing in matches, becoming more loved or hated with each contest they "win".
The Dusty Finish, however, cuts that process off at the knees. On the surface, it seems like an ideal situation, because if the Challenger wins the match while the Champion retains the title, then everyone wins, so everyone becomes more over with the fans, meaning that they'll be twice as likely to come to the next show. The problem with that is that if everyone wins, then no one loses, and the victory is hollow. A champion's supposed to be the best wrestler in the promotion, so who wants to see a champion who can't even win a match? And what's the use in a winner who doesn't get the title? Besides this, on a more fundamental level, the Dusty Finish deals with technicalities and the legal loopholes that surround the wrestling rules. What's supposed to be a simple contest of strength and skill between two men turns into a matter of semantics revolving around referees and men in suits. Used sparingly, the idea is a strange plot twist that might arouse the fans' curiosity, but in excess, the fans begin to lose confidence in the promotion's ability to entertain them.
This was my problem with Book VI, because the book meandered for twenty chapters to finally reveal the point of the book was to get these Horcruxes, and then when they go to all the trouble to retrieve one, it turns out the stupid thing was a decoy. It sucks, because the good guys are made to appear incompetent rather than heroic, and the bad guys end up looking like they only prevailed by chance instead of ruthlessness or guile. HP fans can keep telling me Half-Blood Prince was just the first half of a larger, then-unfinished novel, but that's bull. Half-Blood Prince came to a conclusion. Ithad a finish. A Dusty Finish. And as a wrestling fan who doesn't watch must wrestling anymore, I'm long past the point where you can jerk me around by the balls with that sort of thing.
And this book? Hey, guess what, it's no different. If anything, it's an even more pure example of the Dusty Finish applied to literature. Slap a striped robe on Snape and it'd be perfect. I should probably just shut up and get to the action, though, so we can all see for ourselves.
Chapter 20: The Dementor's Kiss
(Original Japanese Chapter: "Harry and Hermione's Operation: Don't Get Our Souls Eaten by the Dementors")
So like I was saying, the good guys seem to have the case all wrapped up, and now all that remains is to take Pettigrew and the unconscious Snape back to Hogwarts. Along the way, Sirius and Harry discuss the ramifications of what he's just revealed to him. As his godfather and a free man, Black could now fufill his obligation to Harry, and they could live together. In a moment of irony, he supposes that Harry's too attached to his aunt and uncle to go along with such an idea, but "Webster" this ain't, and Harry's all too eager to ditch his mom's side of the family and shack up with the scruffy homeless guy he just met less than an hour ago. At least he asks Black if he even has a home for them to live in.
This actually strikes me as a good arrangement. As I've been saying from the beginning, Harry's lack of any devoted father figure is apparent throughout the series. Bad enough his actual dad's dead, but there doesn't seem to be a single adult in his life who's willing to hold him accountable for his actions. Snape will bitch and moan about all the stuff Harry pulls, and Dumbledore will calm him down from time to time, and Hagrid seems to be good for a guilt trip or two, but none of that ever sinks in. I'm talking about a guy who doesn't take any crap. Someone who'd say "If you so much as look at Aunt Marge funny again, I'll take that Firebolt of yours and snap it in half. You want to be treated like a man, maybe it's time you started acting like one for a change." But still managing to earn enough respect that it wouldn't all go in one ear and out the other. At the very least, it would have made a nice change of pace for these books, with Harry and Sirius living in some run-down shack in the forest, living off racoon meat or whatever the hell they got in Scotland, and burping and farting to their hearts' content. But alas, this is not to be.
So they get out of the tunnel, well after sunset now, and then a cloud moves in the sky revealing the full moon. Right on cue, Lupin starts to transform, and so Black tells the rest of them to clear out so he can hold Lupin at bay. Part of the trouble here is that Lupin was chained up to Peter and Ron, so there's no easy way for them to get away until after he's in full wolf mode, when I presume the manacle wouldn't be snug against his leg anymore. So Sirius turns into Huckleberry Hound to fight with Lupin's Hokey Wolf, and in the ensuing chaos, Peter manages to get Lupin's wand, incapacitate Ron, and transform into his rat mode, allowing him to scurry into the night, never to be found. Black manages to force Lupin to retreat into the forest, and then sets after Peter, leaving Harry and Hermione alone with the unconscious Snape and Ron.
Sirius might have a decent chance of tracking down Peter, but this chapter wasn't titled "Sirius catches Peter", now, is it? Before Harry can even decide what to do next, he hears Sirius crying out in pain, and he and Hermione rush to his aid. They find him by the lake, reverted to his human form, and cowering before at least a hundred dementors. So no matter what happens next, Peter's pretty much flown the coop, and the trail will be ice cold by the time this confrontation is resolved. Without Peter, Black has no way to prove his innocence, and in a matter of pages, the whole resolution to the plot has been undone.
And, just like a Dusty Finish, this has nothing to do with the villains being clever. Peter simply took advantage of happenstance, and the dementors interference is simply guided by instinct. No, this entire development can be explained in four simple words: Werewolfism Makes You Retarded.
I mean, really, how am I supposed to accept this? Lupin's a werewolf, he doesn't like being a werewolf, as evidenced by his fear of the full moon, and his efforts to keep his curse a secret. So we're supposed to believe that he simply forgot that there was a full moon out tonight? The one time of the month that puts him on Double Red Alert, and it somehow slipped his mind? I mean, I've forgotten to pay my cable bill on time once or twice, but that doesn't cause me intense pain and makes me a danger to myself and others.
But OK, let's give him that. Lupin might conceivably lose track of time, and forget that the full moon would be out that night. Except that's stupid, because when you consider everything he's been doing all night, it shoul all tie back to him being a werewolf. First he checks out the Marauder's Map (which he and his friends were inspired to write in part because of his werewolf status), then he follows Black and the nWo into the secret tunnel Dumbledore dug for him because he was a werewolf, into the dilapidated shack he spent the night in when he turned into a wolf. Once there, he tells everyone the story of how he's been getting along all these years as a werewolf, and why it kind of sucks for him to be one. He also mentions the potion he's been taking to help him control his werewolf tendencies. Then the guy who MAKES THE POTION FOR HIM shows up, and he causally REMINDS HIM THAT HE HASN'T TAKEN HIS DOSE OF POTION YET. Lupin's only possible defense is that he was fully aware of the date, and was banking on getting back to his office before dark, except that the sun was already going down when he left. One could argue that he couldn't tell it was dark out because he wasn't near any open windows in the Shrieking Shack, but the guy doesn't have a damn watch?
So no, there's no other explanation. Obviously, the curse of the werewolf not only turns you into a werewolf, but it deliberately causes brain damage so you're too dumb to take simple steps to prevent it from happening. And now everyone pays the price for Lupin's incurable idiocy.
You know, I just notice this chapter's really short, too. If I hadn't wasted all this time on Big Dust and the Hong Kong Phooey Pilgrimage, I'd have been done already. By the by, I was checking out ol' HKP on Wikipedia, you know the police sergeant who sounded like Gunther Toody from Car 54? No? Oh, right, I'm frigging ancient, I forgot. Well, the reason he sounds like Gunther Toody is because he was Gunther Toody, just doing the same voice again for the cartoon. Ooh, ooh! PENRY!
So where was I? Right, right, they're all face to face with the dementors. All of 'em, I guess, since I can't imagine there being many more than a hundred. Well, somebody must have stayed behind to watch the prison, but... aw, shock it. So according to Black, the dementors' powers don't affect you as much when you turn into an animal, so why is he even in any trouble here? Unless the dementors forced him to change back somehow, or he did that himself for some reason and they got the drop on him. Neither seems very likely, but it is what it is, and he's down for the count, and possibly nude, since I'm not entirely sure if you can transfigure your clothes when you turn into animals. Let's just assume he's nude, since that'd be a little bonus for the ladies.
But Harry's been preparing for this all semester, so he wastes no time whipping out his wand and making ready for a Spirit Bomb. Wait, my bad, he's gonna do the Patronus Charm. Would have been better of learning the Spirit Bomb, you ask me, which you didn't. All right, so the combo for the Patronus Charm is Punch, Punch, Forward Punch, Cancel, Up, Down, Kick, Forward Kick, Back Kick, Punch, Punch, Cancel, Punch Kick Energy Attack. Yeah, he's boned. Nonetheless, he tries to focus on a happy memory, and starts chanting "Expecto Patronum" over and over. Of course, his "memory" is the notion that he'll get to leave the Dursleys and live with his newfound godfather, but that's more of a possibility than an actual recollection. At best, a "thin silver wisp escaped his wand", which is pretty damn gross. Hermione passes out shortly after. Hey, it happens to every man at some time or another, Hermione. Let's not give him too hard a time about it.
So this is Harry's big chance to face his fear, and he's completely whizzed it. The dementors easily bat aside his amorphous, half-assed patronus, and one of them pulls down his hood to administer the soul-eating kiss. Recall they were only authorized to do this to Black, which goes to show that the Ministry never really had any control over these things to begin with. So they're gonna polish off Harry first, since he's the only one putting up any resistance. You'd think the dementors would each insist on being the one to do the honors. They don't get to do this sort of thing very often, I'd imagine, and yet it's just this one here who's taking the initiative. Maybe they share the soul later like ants, or maybe they had a rochambeau tournament in advance.
And then out of nowhere, this big glowy animal rushes in and chases all the dementors away. With his last ounce of strength, Harry tries to follow it with his eyes, and just before he passes out, he sees the thing run back to its master on the opposite side of the lake, a guy who looks sort of familiar...
So to summarize, everyone is a giant feeb. Lupin's retarded. Attempts to convince me otherwise will be met with harsh reprisals. Just argue with Jim about whether Snape deserves anyone's pity. That never gets old. Ron's chained to Peter to keep him from escaping, and he chokes at the first possible opportunity. Sirius can escape from prison and beat a werewolf with his dog powers, but for some reason they konk out on him when it's least convenient. He's dead meat against the dementors, but Harry can save him, because he spent the last six months learning--oh, wait, no he can't. And of course, Hermione just faints straight away. We've gone from slam dunk to F.U.B.A.R. in less than six pages.
THIS is why I hate these books, right here. I mean, besides the fact that Harry Potter is in them. By this point, we should be around the big climax, setting up the resolution to all the various plotlines, but Rowling only seems interested in reinforcing that all her characters are colossal morons, incapable of even the simplest tasks. Like I needed a freaking reminder. Why did I read a whole chapter about Lupin teaching Harry self-defense if Harry's just gonna fold when the time comes to apply what he's learned? Yes, I've read ahead, and I know he gets a do-over, but Wedge didn't have to make six passes at the Death Star main reactor to blow it up in Return of the Jedi. He did it once and escaped. This isn't just to save time, it's to establish that he's a ace pilot and a crack shot.
The worst part about all this is that Rowling clearly understands the concept of a pay-off. She spent the whole book leading up to the revelation that Lupin's a werewolf, amd then wisely recognized that this would be kind of lame unless he actually transformed somewhere in the story. I find the timing absurd, but at least he did it. And yet Harry spends all this time learning the Patronus Charm, and this is what we get out of it. He was passing out like a chump when the book STARTED. Some hero. And again, do-over, don't even bother trying to use that excuse. That's a whole other set of bullcrap that'll have to wait until next time.
RATING: BAD
NEXT: Push it to the limit...