Against Chekhov's Gun

Context matters.  To be perfectly honest I don't know much of anything about the context to Chekhov's comments that lead to the formulation of the principle in question.  I imagine he knew what he was doing.

Come right down to it I'm not strictly speaking against Chekhov's Gun.  Stories should make sense.  Important plot points shouldn't come out of left field.  The reader/viewer should have a reasonable understanding of what the characters' options are, and Deus Ex Machina should be avoided whenever possible.

The distinction is fairly clear I think.  When Batman reveals that he has lock picks hidden in his gloves that flows naturally even if it was never established previously.  The reader/viewer thinks "how quintessentially Batman."  They already know that he's slightly paranoid, that he tries to prepare ahead of time, that he's a skilled escape artist for whom lock picks are simple high-utility items, and that his foes' psychological hangups leave them with a predilection for deathtraps.  It makes sense that he would conceal lock picks in his gloves, and given their nature and his competence it is reasonable they would remain undetected.  Chekhov's Gun is unnecessary here.

The counter-example is the notorious Bat Shark Repellent.  Even if shown ahead of time the idea remains mildly ridiculous.  (Yes I realize it was a joke, but badly-written Batman stories frequently have him utilizing similarly overly-specific devices.)  The middle ground is where Chekhov's Gun is most frequently utilized.  If Batman is experimenting with a new device or technique you can bet it will be used before the story is concluded.

This leads to one of my concerns.  In many cases this foreshadowing is almost redundant.  (I'm going to stick to Batman as a example for the moment because he is a well-known character about whom stories have been told well and...less so.)  Do we really need to be shown ahead of time Batman is working on a specific technology?  After all technology and preparation are two of his primary characteristics.  Would it be all that shocking if, when a problem presented itself, he went into a vault of set-aside projects and found something that could be adapted for the situation at hand?  Is it out of character for Batman to have been working on personal sonar, or robotics, etc. etc.?

True this might come across as a trifle contrived or convenient, but no less so than just happening to be working on something new right before it will be needed.  Moreover there are ways to soften the impact.  One would be to have him find something that was not directly applicable, but close enough that it could be adapted.  Another would be to show him constantly tinkering with things, thus establishing his many unfinished projects.  Some might see this as wasted time, but if that was the case the tinkering could easily take place during scenes that revealed other important plot points or character details.

However I'm not certain I agree that such scenes would be wasted, which brings me to my second objection.  Overly strict adherence to Chekhov's Gun destroys immersion because it is so contrary to the organic flow of real life.  If every object shown, every moment documented and every character action revealed is packed tight with meaning then it is a constant reminder that this is a story.  The obvious orchestration and artistry threaten to overwhelm involvement. 

There are ways around this to be sure, but I do think it is sometimes worth including details or scenes that are not directly related to the characters and plot.  Real life is messy.  Things happen that we can't explain.  People do things a certain way for no real reason, just because.  Even important things can be interrupted inanely.  If done well these little interludes can actually enhance a story and show other sides of the world and characters than would normally be seen.  More importantly they help create the sense that these are real characters who were living their lives before and after the window in which we observed them.

Which leads to the point that brings me the most unease.  Both my previous points are more about how to apply Chekhov's Gun then against it, strictly speaking.  I think it is a useful principle, but perhaps it should be reassessed until we can use it more responsibly, because in some ways I think it contributes to a dangerous trend.

The degree to which much of storytelling has been reduced to mere formulas is very troubling.  There are other culprits such as 'story by committee,' elevation of aesthetics/acting/etc. over story and many others.  (Don't even get me started on Joseph Campbell's The Hero's Journey.)  However in this environment of formulaic creation principles like that of Chekhov's Gun help make stories increasingly predictable.

This in turn leads naturally to the increasing trend of meta fiction.  Because stories are predictable fans lay out their theories- at the 'water cooler' (is that even really a thing?,) online forums and in everyday conversations.  This creates buzz and hype, which show creators obviously want.  So they begin to go looking for it.

As the meta fiction shows go on they begin to be comprised more and more of Chekhov's Guns and Red Herrings fighting to the death for views.  The narrative begins to resemble more a multiple choice test (that no one studied for) rather than a story.  Events happen not because it makes sense in context but in order to provoke and intrigue the audience.  

At first the readers/viewers are deeply involved, but over time they tend to become disillusioned.  They may not be conscious themselves of why, but I believe it is because (perhaps subconsciously) they believed there really was a method and meaning behind everything.  As they begin to realize it was all ad hoc devices for the primary purpose of drawing a dramatic reaction the illusion begins to die and the author's hand becomes visible.  Eventually they lose interest.

Is this Chekhov's fault?  Not at all.  But like all principles his has to be used properly and responsibly.  Check your story during editing, and use the principle of Chekhov's Gun to question yourself.  Is everything as tight as it could be?  What purpose does this scene or device serve?  Don't be afraid to leave something in just because 'this is how it happened,' but don't throw in a bunch of superfluous drivel to pad the work either.

First and foremost though, start with a story.  You can always clean it up afterwards, but you can't throw a bunch of formulas together and finish with a coherent whole.  In the end Chekhov's Gun winds up being like guns generally.  You have to practice using it safely and responsibly or it could cause irreparable damage.

Eicks' Totally Genuine Supervillain Diary Entry #7

Dear Totally Genuine Diary,

I can see by the way you're looking at me that you have questions.  No doubt you've heard the rumors, have read the news.  It's all true.  Chemical addiction has basically been cured for humans.  And yes, your suspicion is well-warranted- it's mostly my fault.

Before you go accusing me of wantonly committing good deeds though, let me assure you it was for purely selfish reasons, and that there are many other mitigating factors.  Oh, on the surface this may look good for humanity, and I suppose in the short term it actually is.  Taking the long view however this is just one link in a chain that ends in the utter annihilation of their precious Earth.

Mere declarations of intent (no matter how grand) will not suffice to divert your wrath I'm certain, so let's get into specifics.  I'll start by saying that although the cure will help a lot of people it won't necessarily seem that way to them.  The variable formula I developed completely eliminates chemical dependency in human organisms, but by itself that won't do anything about habits and preferences.  The addict might no longer need their fix biologically speaking, but that doesn't mean they won't reach for one anyway.  I solved that problem with a nasty little deterrent.

Regardless of the chemical or delivery system (alcohol, nicotine, heroin or whatever) the positive effects are completely negated.  The addict will no longer be relaxed or get high or what have you.  That alone wouldn't keep people from experiencing psychological or Pavlovian positives though.  My deterrent fixes that.  If the addict succumbs to force of habit and re-engages with the source of their prior addiction they will almost immediately start vomiting.  And crying, both because their eyes are watering and because the reaction causes mild temporary mood depression.  Oh and I threw in chills, sweats and diarrhea, just to get the point across.  So in the short terms I'm going to be responsible for a fair bit of individual misery.

So much for incidentals.  Let's get down to the bone.  I made a lot of money off this deal in exchange for very little work.  (Remember all that research and biochemistry work that went down the drain when I failed to find a way to make humans allergic to water?  I found a use for it after all.)  I marketed the process discretely and in a different persona for each individual addiction, but the corporations paid each version of me a small fortune.  A lot of them paid through shell corporations in order to temporarily conceal their investments from their rivals, and the money was clean to start with, so it wasn't hard at all to launder and redirect it to my purposes.  Available resources for the plan have increased greatly.

Not just money either.  Now that any addict who is interested in quitting can just pick up a cheap pill at the corner pharmacy, well, those drug cartels aren't doing so well.  Once they realized their customer base was shrinking dramatically they began fighting over remaining market share, and by fighting I mean fighting.  Lot of really nasty gang warfare going on right now.

That benefits me in multiple ways.  Law Enforcement is focused like a laser on trying to get these power struggles under control, so they're really not wasting a lot of time looking for people like me.  Some of the drug kingpins have brought in ringers in the form of Lifters, so DUO is equally distracted, as is Undershield (and even Overshield, at least to a certain extent.)  So I have increased freedom of movement.

Pair that with an abundance of available personnel.  Some of the drug lords have read the handwriting on the wall and absconded with their available wealth.  (Hard to repay your suppliers when you can't move your current inventory.)  Their subordinates have been left in the lurch.  Likewise, some of the more forward-looking gang members have realized there is no longer much of a future with the cartels so they've opted out and are free agents.  (There's also been something of a cascade effect impacting other types of criminal organizations.)  Most of these individuals are not suitable to my need, but they form a very large pool to sift through, and I've found promising minions in ones and twos.

Combine all that and you have the foundation for my newest enterprise.  With everyone distracted I went ahead and bought some land in Wyoming, then built an elaborate compound there (mostly underground.)  A few trusted minions drove through dropping off personnel and materials before continuing on their way, and no one was the wiser.  As I write we've already entered Stage 2 production.  It's all very encouraging.

So now you can see that curing chemical addiction was a necessary evil (by which I mean good.)  My plan is barreling forward full tilt thanks to this move.  Nor is this the only benefit.

On a more personal note let me say that this little maneuver completely ruined the lives of those drug cartel leaders who laughed at me.  Their followers abandoned them, their suppliers took all their riches, and the Feds nailed them trying to flee the country.  (Seems someone provided a few anonymous tips.)  They were tried, convicted and sentenced to long periods of confinement.  Their new abodes were federal penitentiaries where they lived humiliated and broken, bereft of power, influence or even respect.

Over the course of one night I did a little sneaking, paid each a personal visit.  They all went about the same.  We had a little chat, I explained what I had been up to lately.  Shared a chuckle over the vagaries of fate (well I laughed anyway.)  Then I killed them.  Good times.  Good times.

Oh, and one other bonus.  When I first sold the formulas, and again when the news of the cure was released, I spread a few harmless little rumors.  Just benevolent vague PR.  That the cure had been cooked up in a government lab.  That DUO efforts at Lifter Rehabilitation had resulted in the cure.  That Overshield had derived the cure from exploitation of alien tech.  That sort of thing.

Public approval of all the various organizations and associated personnel exploded.  People were very impressed to see some actual real world returns from their ongoing investments.  Especially such a revolutionary application applied to those in need.

Naturally the politicians are having a real hard time not taking credit.  It doesn't help that none of them are actually sure where the cure actually came from (my various personas are extremely private as it turns out.)  Many of them have actually convinced themselves that this really was part of a secret government project or something.  Quite a few are basking in the limelight, associating their pet projects with this success or even directly taking credit.  Higher-ups at DUO and Overshield are starting to succumb too, making statements that, although not technically false give very misleading impressions.

When I finally release the truth to the world (along with documentation and other evidence of validity) it's going to be comedy gold.

Murderously Yours,
Eicks

Eicks' Totally Genuine Supervillain Diary Entry #6

Dear Totally Genuine Diary,

On the surface things have improved greatly since the last time we communed.  I haven't destroyed the planet yet, but I have accrued a number of necessary components for my current plan.  So I should be happy.

I have a sense of unease though.  True my recent confrontations with Foxtrot Three Five have often resulted in a successful withdrawal (absconding with precious and needed loot) but that's not really something I can call a victory.  If our confrontations continue in this fashion I'm not sanguine regarding my chances of success when I finally implement my plan.  What if I do all this work and they just pop in, we batter each-other for a while and then they force me to retreat?  I can't destroy the world like that!

One of the reasons I'm not making any headway is the problem of being outnumbered.  Don't get me wrong, the D-1R3 program is working out quite well, but I'm not building up any kind of reserve because Foxtrot Three Five is destroying my assistants nearly as quickly as I can design and assemble them.  It's a troubling trend.

Take the last month alone.  Gauntlet counter-hacked D-1R3 Mosquito and it was forced to self-destruct (although I least I was able to salvage those equations.)  D-1R3 Giraffe successfully tractor-beamed that shuttle, but Surge crushed the poor guy as he tried to follow my escape.  The cover that D-1R3 Anteater gave allowed me to hold out long enough for the factory to complete the circuitry I needed, but he was destroyed when the building collapsed.

Not a reassuring track record.  Each D-1R3 is individually quite useful but they can't handle the strain of confronting a whole team of skilled enemies.  The smart thing would be to build them up over time, but I can't lay low that long.  The itch won't let me.  I suppose I could do a few solo runs, but those lovable Foxtrot Three Five bastards get more competent all the time.  I'm not certain I can afford to give them that kind of edge.

No, I need to streamline my operation somehow, increase its efficiency so I can build more D-1R3s in a given span.  I've probably already hit the limits of robotic assistance in that category.  Scaling up any more would require physical expansion, and I don't think I could stay hidden under those circumstances.  Unless...I acquire some help of the non-robotic kind.

Fortunately I'm an old hand at recruiting minions.  Little rusty maybe, but I'm figure it's like bipedal locomotion.  Oh, be right back.  That alarm informs me it's time to acquire my first inferior partner.

*  *  *

Okay, so that could have gone better, but at least I learned something.  I ambushed Gauntlet on his way home.  Took a bit of time (and devastated a few blocks) but I eventually beat the shit out of him, thus demonstrating my superiority and worthiness to lead.  All exactly to plan.  

A funny thing happened though.  When I demanded he swear an oath of fealty to me as is customary he laughed.  (At least I assume that weird digital stuttering was a laugh.  Could have been a malfunction I suppose.  I did hammer him pretty good.)  Said my methods were way out of date.  Weird.  

Since he gave me some valuable information I decided to let him live.  (It wouldn't have been much fun to kill him all by himself.  That can wait until the whole team is there.)

I've been doing a bit of research into how to recruit people, and I think I've got the hang of it.  I'm going to go try out my new method.  Be right back.

*  *  *

Apparently I do not have the hang of it.  My sources said there are four key steps.  1.  Demonstrate how great your team is.  2.  Offer something worth accomplishing.  3.  Show how the recruit could be a valued contributor.  4.  Project how the recruit will personally benefit.

I thought I was nailing it.  First I would appear in the recruit's home or work, bypassing all security, thus showing that my team (i.e. me) was great.  Next I would ask if they wanted to permanently leave their mark on the world.  By destroying it.  After that I would go into great detail as to how their area of expertise could be utilized to bring on the apocalypse.  And to close I would offer them a ship full of resources once the planet no longer existed.

Seemed like a solid strategy, but I guess not.  Failure once or twice might be a coincidence.  I got 11 recruits fainting, 4 trying to attack me, 19 calling DUO and 1 heart attack.  Not sure where I went wrong.  I'm going to go do some more research.

*  *  *

I found a website that suggests that women are apt to follow perfidious individuals of the male sex, especially if they are on the young side.  Another website suggested that women flock to those who are rude or even demeaning.  My attempts to replicate these studies have shown them to be in error.  More research is warranted.  (Also I need to get these bullets extracted before I forget about them.)

*  *  *

From what I can tell persuasion and building trust over time is very important to getting people to follow you these days.  I really don't have the inclination, patience or schedule for that sort of...oh for crying out loud.  Two groups of criminals are having one of their 'firefights' out in the street in front of my house.  Again.  I've asked them several times to quiet down when I'm trying to work but they just won't take a hint.  

And another thing, their aim is atrocious.  Several dozen rounds have already struck my domicile.  Okay fine, the defenses stopped them, but it's the principle of the thing.  Besides such incompetence makes me slightly nauseous.  If these were my minions I'd...hmm.  Back in a few.

*  *  *

They...they laughed at me.  (They tried to kill me too, but that's a mere trifle.)  They dared to make fun of me.  All I asked was for them to give me a few of their minions in return for me not slaughtering everyone involved for disturbing my work.  In response they mocked me.  Ordinary petty criminals had the sheer unmitigated gall.

Despite what you might expect, I didn't kill them.  Oh no.  They don't get off that easily.  They will rue this day.  I'm going to acquire minions, and I'm going to execute this plan.  In service of those goals I'm also going to ruin their miserable lives.  Just you wait and see.

Vindictively Yours,
Eicks

Eicks' Totally Genuine Supervillain Diary Entry #5

Dear Totally Genuine Diary,

I know I haven't written to you in a while.  I apologize.  Being homeless sucks.

My situation has improved a bit since the last time we spoke, but for a while there things were looking pretty dismal.  My attempts to acquire new living quarters were greatly hampered by the fact that...I can't believe I have to say his stupid fucking name...fine fine, 'Super Brian' decided now was a time to take a shot at me.

He must have found out somehow about my recent setbacks because he sicced his minions on me.  Right in the middle of a tour of a fairly decent apartment too.  Now I was in a civilian persona so I wasn't carrying a ton of ordnance but it sufficed to blow those clowns apart.  Unfortunately I miscalculated slightly and ended up also sort of blasting a gaping hole in the side of the apartment building.  

Which, naturally, resulted in DUO showing up, so I had to perforate a few dozen of them, with the inevitable consequence of Foxtrot Three Five arriving.  Considering how poorly equipped I was the fight didn't go too badly, but I was outgunned and I knew it so I slipped away first chance I got.  Not before the apartment building was completely leveled though.  (I have standards.)

My luck held true though, in that the landlady survived the chaos and ratted on me to the General.  The team must have realized that the earlier DUO raid had been on my apartment and that I was looking for a new home, because from that day on there was surveillance on every space for rent in the entire damn city.  They were just sitting there waiting and laughing while I froze my ass off night after night.

I knew I needed a different approach, so I seized my luck by the throat.  Scavenged parts here and there, built a new companion.  D-1R3 Mosquito.  Makeshift but sufficient for the task at hand.

Had her start hacking porn sites, as many as she could find.  Uploaded viruses to all of them.  Virulent little buggers too.  Infected every visitor's system, then stole as much money as possible the next time they logged into their banks.  It ended up being millions of dollars.  An astonishing amount really, and every penny of it ended up in the General's account.

He was pissed.  Very much so.  When he wasn't busy explaining his innocence to his superiors (and their superiors) he patrolled the streets in a rage, desperate to find and eviscerate me.

Or so Mosquito relayed.  I wasn't anywhere nearby.  Instead I was in a completely different country, selling a piece of software that would increase GPS accuracy by 11%.  A fairly profitable transaction.  Did some careful money laundering, then returned home and purchased a small house near where I had all my stolen goods stashed.  The General was so distracted he hadn't even considered I might change tactics, instead pushing his team to discover how I was profiting off of the hacking.

So yeah, welcome to our new home.  Bit of a fixer-upper but I have some ideas in that regard.  All that can wait though.  The second thing I did was upgrade my internet connection, so Forever Empire is calling.  

I'll talk to you later.  Much later.

Hate Log #2: Cultural Normality

No doubt you'll be shocked to learn this, but I belong to several nerdy sub-cultures.  I love Fantasy and Science Fiction, History and Logic, etc. etc.  I don't really care for sports.  Oh, I'm okay with playing, although it's not something I prefer to do by any means.  The real disconnect for me was watching sports.  I tried when I was younger, and I eventually just lost all interest.  (The details aren't really relevant to my topic.)

I don't hate sports though.  What I hate is the use (or misuse) of normality when it comes to culture.  A lot of people today talk about our culture being fractured or sharply divided, and I can't disagree with that if you're talking about politics or philosophy or morality.  I think however that people conflate (for lack of better terms) civic culture with social culture.

Civic culture is all about right and wrong, who we are and who we ought to be (etc. etc.)  Social culture is about what we like, and when it comes to that divided isn't really the right term.  It seems to me it is more of a system of self-selected distribution.  We no longer have a united social culture because (to an extent never before seen in human history) we have options, but co-existing with mass communications allowing us to fully recognize our differences.

For most of human history the vast majority of people had very few options, but they were also relatively isolated such that they were not confronted with the differences of anyone but their extremely proximate neighbors.  That changed a bit with printing presses and newspapers, and was altered dramatically by radio and television.  Although civic culture remained divided (as evidenced by politics and wars and such) social culture was somewhat homogenized.  A person might not care for it, might not fully participate in it but they could not help but at least be aware.  (For example during the Battle of Bulge American soldiers tried to detect German 5th Column soldiers using pop culture questions.)  Obviously this can be overstated, but it is generally true.

By contrast today people have greatly variated interests and customs.  This is nothing new historically, but it seems that way because it follows a generation where such social variations were diminished.  Additionally, thanks to mass media we have the potential to be much more aware of the differences than most people previously.

So far so good, but you're probably wondering where the hate joins the party.  Right here.  I hate it when people try to use the word 'normal' in regards to social culture.  It is a misapplication of the word.  There may be norms of human behavior, or normative biology and so on and so forth.  I take no stance on such issues here.  My point is that there is no longer a normal set of likes, tastes and interests.  The frantic multiplication of possible interests has allowed us to drift, each to his own.

There are approximately 320 million people in these United States.   https://www.census.gov/popclock/
Of that number approximately 87 million households subscribe to ESPN.   http://www.businessinsider.com/espn-losing-subscribers-not-ratings-viewers-2017-9
About 16 million people watched a recent Game of Thrones finale.   https://www.nytimes.com/2017/08/28/arts/television/game-of-thrones-finale-sets-ratings-record.html    About 26 million play basketball.  https://www.sfia.org/press/433_Over-26-Million-Americans-Play-Basketball
Around 30% of Americans don't drink alcohol.   https://www.healthyplace.com/blogs/debunkingaddiction/2015/04/many-americans-dont-drink-alcohol/    https://www.popsugar.com/fitness/Health-Statistics-US-Adult-Population-Including-Alcohol-Consumption-Obesity-Rates-7805021
Etc. etc.

My point is that calling a taste or interest 'normal' is detached from reality.  In many cases it is a way to avoid having to make a case for or against your hobbies or those of others.  Or perhaps, to avoid thinking about the matter at all?

Is the teamwork shared and exercise gained from basketball more valuable than that accrued from Larping?  Is stamp-collecting or model railroading more edifying than tabletop miniature games?  Is Poker better than Pokemon?  Can more of value be found in 'prestige television' than in anime?

Perhaps.  But calling one thing normal does not make that case.  Muster your arguments.  Reflect.  Compare and contrast.  Or don't, and instead save your strength for disagreements that really matter.  Just don't hide behind a false normality in order to do so.

Hate Log #1: Star Wars

    If you haven't read the Expanded Universe this post may contain spoilers.

     I don't know all that many people who will admit to hating Star Wars.  Oh, there's always the odd contrarian, the sophisticate who finds popular culture vulgar or even the poseur who confesses with relish that they've never even seen Star Wars.  Plenty of people also have strong opinions about Star Wars- they hate the prequels, or the new movies, Return of the Jedi or what have you.  Still, most people I know like Star Wars, at least a little.  I can't hear the words without feeling a flood of hatred.

     To explain why I have to start with some of my earliest memories.  In those moments I already knew certain things about Star Wars, which means I must have watched them even earlier.  My family loved Star Wars.  We only owned A New Hope, so my sister and I would take turns checking out The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi from the local libraries.  I think eventually we had the dialogue for all three movies memorized.

     As I got older my love only grew more intense.  I read every book in the Expanded Universe I could get my hands on.  (Many of them multiple times.)  I played the CCG (card game) whole-heartedly, and later became a huge Star Wars paper and pencil roleplayer.  Star Wars was amazing, and I loved it deeply.

     Then came the prequels.  I thought they were garbage.  About the same time Decipher lost the rights to the CCG and there were rumors George Lucas had been behind the switch.  I began to joke that Lucas had suffered a debilitating brain aneurysm, because I couldn't imagine how else he could go from creating such brilliance to trash.

     With each prequel things got worse.  For a brief moment Genndy Tartakovsky's Clone Wars series brought on a restoration.  I was watching Star Wars again, the magic was back.  Then the show was cancelled and replaced with some CGI nonsense.

     New Jedi Order didn't help much.  It was a hot mess.  Timothy Zahn and Michael A. Stackpole's contributions were brief shining gems in a convoluted, contradictory series that culminated in nonsense and tragedy.  It was about then that I stopped reading new Star Wars books.  (More accurately immediately afterward, when Jacen turned to Dark Side for no apparent reason except they needed a new villain and couldn't be bothered to create one.)

     Somewhere along the way my attitude changed fundamentally.  One day I was thinking about the original trilogy and realized I could see the plot holes.  They were still good movies, but the immunity to forthright analysis my love had given them was gone.  Now that I knew Lucas probably had made them amazing by accident I no longer reflexively rushed to their defense.  Once I had gone to great lengths to explain every misstep, now I just sighed.

     And then, as the final step, came the new movies.  I had no interest in going to see them because all indications were that they would be focus-tested messes.  Morbid curiosity did lead me to investigate after the fact, leading to a grim satisfaction when my predictions were borne out (for the most part.)  

     That wasn't what led to my hate though.  I was already pretending the prequels had never happened, I could have done the same with soft reboots/sequels.  There could have just been three wonderful movies existing in isolation for all time.

     No, the thing that broke me was when they threw out the Expanded Universe.  It was such a calculated, gratuitous and lazy move.  The people in charge didn't want to be constrained.  They wanted to be free to do whatever the focus groups and latest hotness dictated.  They could have just ignored the Expanded Universe, let it branch off by itself.  Writers like Timothy Zahn surely would have done their best to square that circle (after all, Zahn almost made Terminator: Salvation make sense.)  Instead they killed the Expanded Universe, apparently because they had the power and it would have been a minor inconvenience had it stuck around.

     That was what made me realize that I had never really loved Star Wars.  Not the way most people do.  I loved the Star Wars Universe as it was presented to me.  The Outer Rim versus the Core Worlds, the HuMAN policy, Derra IV, the design philosophies and logistics of Fondor and Kuat Drive Yards, the liquidation of Incom Corporation, Gand Findsmen, B-Wings built in asteroids, A-Wings assembled by hand, Admiral Ackbar learning tactics from Grand Moff Tarkin, deceptive design plans for Mon Calamari Star Cruisers...I could go on and on.  The contrast between smart, nimble but weak rebels and arrogant imperials with the power to glass planets who can't tell the difference between atrocities and combat experience.  I'll just stop here lest I go on indefinitely.

     When you come right down to it I don't think I was the only one either.  I've heard it said that you can't do much with Star Wars, which is the reason the new movies don't really bring anything innovative to the table.  That's certainly not true if you look at the Expanded Universe.  Some of the earliest popular books were just collections of short stories giving the background of various extras.  Tales from the Mos Eisley Cantina, Tales of the Bounty Hunters, Tales from Jabba's Palace.  All barely touched the main characters, instead focusing on figures who were only seen for a few minutes (some only for a few seconds.)  Why if not because that brief glimpse of alien life sparked interest?

     Some of the greatest and most successful Expanded Universe writers focused less on the main characters from the movies and more on introducing us to new figures.  Timothy Zahn, Michael A. Stackpole and Kevin J. Anderson created completely new characters and we loved them.  (These weren't Shadows of the Empire style clones of characters from the movies either.  They had their own peculiarities, personalities, backgrounds, outlooks and skillsets.)

     That's what I loved, and they killed it.  Oh, not entirely I suppose.  The books still exist, and they're still worth re-reading.  There will never be any more good ones, but Homer is dead too and the Iliad is still worth a look or five.

     The problem is that the universe is dead.  All those years of effort on the part of so many, trying to fill in the background, fit all the pieces together so they make sense.  All those authors, pouring themselves into new characters, scenarios and organizations.  The universe my roleplaying characters had adventures in.  That so fascinated me, prompting countless hours of investigation and imagination.  The unknown future they were inching towards.  All gone.

     Corran Horn's children will never carry on the line of Corellian Jedi- the bloodline with all its strengths and weaknesses is gone.  My friends will never reunite to finally track down Bane Malar or put a stop to the plans of the sinister Harth.  Those last minute escapes turned out to be final.  A-Wings no longer have wood paneling, in fact they probably no longer exist.

     Stripped away.  Gratuitously, callously, and by those (my malice informs me) who lack even sufficient imagination to really recognize what they've destroyed, much less replace it.  Will its like ever be seen again?  Who knows.  At the moment there is something living where it once resided though.  Hate.  It expands to fit its environment, and the hole it is residing in now is quite sizable.

     So now you know why I hate Star Wars.  Have a great one!

Eicks' Totally Genuine Supervillain Diary Entry #4

Dear Totally Genuine Diary,

Today was rough.  It started out pretty good, but things quickly went downhill.

The plan was to test my new robotic murder assistant.  I designated the line D-1R3, built a prototype model based loosely on an animal, and was ready to go.

Naturally I needed someone to really put the little guy through his paces, so while I was breaking into the foundry I let one of the security cameras catch sight of me.  As I suspected DUO was monitoring the feed, and they must have been quick to forward the information, because Foxtrot Three Five showed up not twenty minutes later.  

Fortunately the sound of their drop-pods braking alerted me pretty quickly to their presence, so I set up inside the foundry and waited for them.  My ambush was pretty effective.  I think the presence of so much heat and metal may have thrown their sensors off a bit.

Landed a solid hit on Surge that left a smoking hole in his armor, blew up a transformer on the General and even managed to kick Gauntlet into a pool of slag.  D-1R3 Armadillo got into an exchange of fire with Guessire, but his shields held nicely so he was able to go toe to toe with her.  It was a great start.

Too good to last though.  Apparently Gauntlet was just fine down there, which surprised me somewhat.  I had been pretty sure the molten slag would kill him, but he emerged in good enough shape to shoot me in the back.  I saw him surface but I didn't have time to dodge given my position and speed.  That sucked.

Of course then the General started trying to stab me again.  Having the hole in my back made it substantially harder to dodge, so things weren't looking too good.  I needed an opening, so in desperation I yelled "D-1R3 Armadillo!  Activate nuclear self-destruct, no delay!"  I just wanted to distract them for a second, get them to look away.

Imagine my surprise when they all actually diverted attention to him.  Gauntlet started a scan, Guessire re-doubled her attacks, the General turned and started charging towards my little guy.  I found it all very interesting.

Then Surge ran up and punted poor little D-1R3 Armadillo into orbit.  No literally, used his powers and just kicked it straight up.  Maybe I should have chosen a larger, heavier animal as a model.

Of course I took advantage of their distraction to escape, but it was still kind of a bummer.  My bad day didn't end there though.  Oh no.

I was within sight of my apartment when I realized the whole block was swarming with cops.  Not just local Law Enforcement Officers either.  DUO was everywhere.  Turned out something had induced them to investigate my apartment.

My failsafe worked without a hitch and the entire apartment was atomized.  Along with all my stuff.  My shower.  My bed.  My refrigerator.  My computer.  No Forever Empire playing tonight.  No place to live or eat or sleep either.  I'm currently homeless.

Oh, and insult to injury, Overshield sent a shuttle to go pick up the D-1R3 Armadillo, so I had to order it to self-destruct.  It didn't really have an atomic bomb in it, but it managed to blow itself to smithereens well enough anyway, so they won't learn anything from it.

Still.  No home, no robot friend, nothing to do.  It's going to be a long, cold night.

Kind of night makes me wish I had a secret underwater lair or a moonbase or something.  I don't know how some of the other villains pull that shit off though.  Not the technical aspects, those are simple enough.  But what do you do about groceries and such?

I guess they have minions for that.  But how do you keep them from giving away the location of your secret base?  Most minions have criminal records, so LEOs and DUO personnel have to be keeping an eye on some of them.  Besides, I've heard that criminal types have a propensity for drinking to excess, which is not conducive to the keeping of secrets.

There must be a trick to it.  Sometimes I wish I was a people person.  

Anyway diary, it's been a long day, and it's going to be a long night.  Thanks for listening.

 

Eick's Totally Genuine Supervillain Diary Entry #3

Dear Totally Genuine Diary,

Today I went to the beach.  It was pretty great actually.  At first.

The weather was terrific.  Clear blue sky, sun glistening off the water.  Naturally the beach was packed. 

As you know though, I am literally a genius.  I had foreseen this possibility and planned accordingly.  I arrived at the beach before dawn and began construction of a mighty sand lair.  It was a soaring edifice, inspirational in its sheer menace and brooding majesty. 

Actually it was so good that for the briefest of moments I contemplated burning down into the ground so I could channel some lava up to fill the moat.  With the discreet use of forcefields I could have protected the sand from the heat.  Ultimately I decided such an action would be too likely to blow my cover.

As I was saying, the intricate sand construction was quite impressive and it was more than adequate to the task at hand.  I found some bums early in the morning, cleaned them up and gave them a thousand dollars each to hang out all day and pretend to be working on the lair.  Their presence kept anyone from investigating too closely or breaching my walls.

Meanwhile I was inside, enjoying relative peace and tranquility while I sunbathed.  If I felt like going for a swim there was always my secret escape tunnel that led into the ocean.  Everything was going fantastic.

Then he showed up.  Now look, I know that the Uplift process can lie dormant in anyone and emerge without warning.  I also know that given how badly they scrambled it there's simply no telling how exactly it will manifest.  And I fully understand that the way it frequently overwrites or rewires large sections of a person's brain is a recipe for eccentric behavior.

Even with all that though I think an Otaku Supervillain is a bit much.  The mecha were pretty cool actually.  I may have to look into making something similar.  The killer robots dressed as schoolgirls were pretty freaking weird.  What really struck me as excessive was the mecha-squid.  That was just tacky.

To make matters worse he kept screaming really poorly pronounced (and grammatically deficient) Japanese phrases.  That's when I realized he wasn't an otaku, he was a weeaboo.  Kind of sad really.

To complete the picture, he didn't even seem to have much of a coherent plan.  He was just kind of ravaging the coast in a general sort of way.  Destroying a lot of food stalls and the like, killing some people but not really accomplishing much.

I don't really care about the reputation of supervillains as a group though, and I certainly don't mentor others.  I was happy enough to just let him go about his business.  Actually the explosions and screams were kind of soothing, and the sun was nice and warm, so I took a little nap.

Eventually Overshield deployed a couple teams to stop him and a few more to evacuate the civilians.  I think it was Delta Three Niner and Echo Three Two on weeaboo duty, and Foxtrot Three Two through Three Five on evacuation.  I wasn't exactly paying attention at this point, but I'm pretty sure.

Man they really went at him.  Say whatever you like about his taste but the man could build a mean forcefield and he had a small army of robotic proxies.  Their battle raged for quite some time.

I really should have left at that point, but it was still so nice out.  I don't know which side had it but there was this beam weapon that was attracting all the free-floating dirt particles in the air every time it cycled between shots.  Kept the sky really nice and clear.  It was about noon at this point and I was really getting some nice sun inside the lair, so I decided to hang out a little while longer.

That turned out to be a mistake.  Someone must have dodged close to my position for some reason, because out of nowhere one of the mecha-squid's tentacles came sweeping through the wall of my fortress.  Just completely destroyed it.

I was pretty angry.  I'd worked hard on that.  I was seriously considering going up there (because you have to realize the idiot was actually riding the mecha-squid at this point) and twisting his damn head off. 

Unfortunately with the wall down I was no longer concealed.  Before I could make up my mind Gauntlet spotted me.  He ran his mouth and before I knew it they all were aware I was there.

The General immediately accused me of being the mastermind of this particular attack, and that really pissed me off.  I don't waste my time terrorizing random beach-goers.  I'm too important for that.  I have a mission.  A destiny.  A planet to destroy.

Didn't get a chance to explain that to him (which was a shame because I'd intended to be really patronizing too.)  Instead they started attacking me.  All of Foxtrot Three Five, parts of Three Two and Three Four, even that one guy from Delta Three Niner.  You know.  The one with the weird head.  Can't remember his name at the moment.

Just because I'd planned a day of relaxation hadn't meant I gone to the beach unprepared.  You never know when some jerk's going to block your sun or kick your sand castle or try to incarcerate you for crimes against humanity.  So I had a few dozen weapons and so forth lying around the lair.

Tell you what though, it's harder than you'd think to fight in just a swimsuit.  Didn't have a lot of places to put any of my gear.  Ended up having to loop belts everywhere to hold the stuff.  They chafed.  I need to do something about that for future beach excursions.

Still I tried to ignore the inconvenience and enjoy the fight.  There were really chasing me around the beach for a while.  There were just so many of them.  On top of that weeaboo boy seemed to see me as a threat too, so every once in a while a mecha or something would join the assault and try to kill everyone. 

During one such attack everyone became sufficiently distracted that they lost track of me for a minute.  All except weird head guy.  He tried to take me out by himself.  It didn't go so well for him.  (Not really important to remember his name anymore given the circumstances.)

Afterwards they were still distracted, and as it happened the blast I'd killed him with had more or less decapitated him.  So I took a minute and made a quick body shape out of sand, then stuck his head in the right spot so it looked like that thing people do where they bury their friends. 

The General didn't think it was as funny as I did.  When he turned around and realized what I was doing he got really angry.  Chopped my right arm off.  Ruined the mound too.  No appreciation of art that guy.

After that I wasn't completely disarmed but things weren't looking so great.  I blew the charges I'd lined the moat with (just in case an unruly mob tried to besiege my lair,) grabbed my detached arm and dashed for my escape tunnel.  Surge hit the whole area hard enough to cause a cave in, but I got to the tunneling device first so I was able to just cut a new escape route.  Once I was out at sea I zig-zagged under the mecha-squid and they lost me in the chaos.

Kind of a shitty end to a decent day, really.  I was a mite frustrated so I sank a cargo vessel while I was swimming to safety.  At least I found some decent loot aboard.

Managed to beat a shark to death with my right arm too.  That was pretty funny.  You should have seen the look on his face.

All in all not the worst day.  As you can see my arm is as good as new.  Did manage to piss off the General too.

Could have done even more if I hadn't been so outnumbered.  I mean, I love a challenge but you can take things too far.  Is it really worth it if I can't even take a moment to enjoy myself without it costing an arm and a leg?

Maybe weeaboo boy was on to something.  Not the ridiculous motif of course, but it couldn't hurt to secure some form of reinforcements.  Something to think about.

Love you diary.  Sleep tight.

Eick's Totally Genuine Supervillain Diary Entry #2

Dear Totally Genuine Diary,

Had kind of a strange experience today.  I had just successfully stolen an entire truckload of dangerous chemicals, and gotten away undetected.  I was pretty excited about the whole thing.  That heist was going to go a long way towards advancing my current plan to destroy the planet.

As I was driving away though, I decided to take the freeway since it would be quicker.  Or at least so I thought in my naivete.  I know I don't really drive all that often, but it was not at all what I expected.

Other large trucks kept merging in front of me, much too close.  Tiny cars weaved in and out of traffic, not signalling, meandering back and forth almost randomly but always much too fast.  As a safety measure I had set it so that the zone around the truck that would be impacted if I suddenly had to brake was visible.  It was never clear!  At least one vehicle in the danger zone at all times, and the red flashing indicator I'd added became very irritating.

They had no sense of self-preservation!  Almost as if they wanted to die and take me with them.  It was like a battlefield but without the strategy or the tactics or killing.  So basically they'd taken away all the fun parts.

The last straw for me was this tiny little red car without a roof.  A truck was passing me, so the driver of the red car could not.  I suppose he greatly desired to do so, because in lieu of that he started following my truck so closely that I could no longer see him in my side mirrors, only in the external sensors I had planted on the truck.

This was very shocking to me.  His vehicle was squarely in the danger zone, and my truck massed a considerable amount more than his conveyance.  If I so much as tapped the brakes his tiny car was going to run up under my truck and be squashed.  The fact that my vehicle was covered in signs that said things like 'Danger' and 'Hazardous Chemicals' didn't seem to dissuade him either.  In fact, looking at him in the sensor feed it seemed as if he didn't regard himself as being in any danger at all.

I don't mind telling you confidentially that I became angry.  I am not part of some bizarre motorist suicide pact.  I can't die in a simple traffic pile-up, I need to destroy the Earth!

I laid on the horn and pushed the gas pedal all the way down the floor, getting myself a little distance by catching the other drivers off-guard.  For a moment I jumped ahead of all the other vehicles.  Carefully I braked and wrenched the wheel over so that my truck slowed and began to drift sideways.  With the lead I had even the crazies on this road were able to brake in time.  Eventually the truck ground to a stop, blocking all lanes of traffic on my side of the highway.

Drivers began to angrily shout at me from their vehicles.  Tiny red car guy was first and foremost among them.  That quickly changed when I dismounted and went after his car with my PPB Pistol.  (You'll see in a second why I didn't use the PPD.)

First I lanced a shot into his hood and destroyed his engine.  That made him shriek I'll tell you, but it wasn't enough for me.  I narrowed the beam and used the pistol to write 'Suicidal Driver' in his windshield.  That made me feel a bit better, even if the guy did manage to duck and avoid getting hit.

After that I looked around to see if anyone else wanted some, but they were all cowering in their vehicles, about half of them on their cell phones.  All except one lady in a mini-van a little ways behind the red car.  She was cheer with this look of exultation on her face.  I guess red car guy had irked her too.

(I gave her a thumbs up.  Not only did I like her attitude, I approved of her mode of transportation.  The utility of the mini-van for nefarious deeds is greatly under-appreciated.  I mean with a few simple adjustments you can go from safely transporting hostages as passengers to moving bodies as cargo.  A lot of criminals scorn them on stylistic grounds.  Their loss I say.)

Satisfied I got back in my truck and drove off.  No one tried to tailgate me as I left.  Even these morons could learn given the proper lesson it seems.

Inevitably though some of the drivers had called in my presence and Overshield Team Foxtrot Three Five showed up shortly after.  We had a brief skirmish.  I thought it went pretty well for the most part but the General ended up shooting my truck to keep me from finishing off Surge.  Apparently he'd actually read the warning labels, unlike red car guy.

So I ended up getting blown up again.  Blasted off the freeway overpass, landed in a filthy alley.  Had to make my ignominious way back here.  No chemicals, no victory.  Didn't even kill anyone.  Not the best day.

Going to need to steal more chemicals if I want this plan to move forward.  And I do.  I think this just might be the one.  Maybe this time I'll steal a plane to transport them or something.  Or set a train on fire and get away in that.  Anything has to be safer than the freeway.

Eicks' Totally Genuine Supervillain Diary Entry #1

Dear Totally Genuine Diary,

Today I decided to keep a totally genuine diary.

In other news, I ran into Overshield Team Foxtrot Three Five today.  They did a real number on me.  Blew a massive hole in my chest and completely destroyed my Planet-slicer.  They didn't even let it spin up long enough to crack the Earth's crust on this side of the planet, much less the other.  Bunch of party poopers.

They seemed quite miffed about me slaughtering that Department of Uplifted Oversight squad.  I don't know what else they expected me to do.  Those DUO troopers were trying to shut down my Planet-slicer, and I worked really hard to build that thing.  I know I made a bit of a mess but I wasn't trying to.  I used my PPD pistol and that's the smallest and least powerful gun I normally carry on me.  It's not my fault it went right through their power armor.  Stuff must be made by the lowest bidder.

Anyway, as I mentioned earlier they were quite upset with me.  The General was so angry that when he couldn't shoot me he ran up and tried to skewer me with that energy sword Dr. Whatisname cooked up.  (Note to self: look up that guy's name and come back and change this.)  I kind of wish he hadn't been wearing his helmet so I could have seen his face.  I bet it was priceless.

So the fight was going pretty well.  The General's armor was damaged and I was thinking I might be able to just blow his head off.  About that time though Gauntlet managed to disable the forcefield protecting the Planet-slicer, and then everything went to hell.

In trying to protect it my movements became more predictable and Surge was able to temporarily immobilize me with a localized gravity surge.  That was pretty well done actually.  The math on that attack must have been complicated.

Of course in that brief period of being stationary Guessire was able to tag me with that giant gun of hers.  Didn't have much of a chest cavity left after that.  So I flopped down to the ground and they ripped my poor Planet-slicer to shreds.  Rest In Peace Planet-slicer.  Rest In Peace.

Still, it wasn't a total waste of time.  Gauntlet's scans told him I was dead so I had a sizable window of opportunity to sneak off while they were busy with the Planet-slicer.  And overall the fight was quite fun.  Foxtrot Three Five is such a low-ranking team I hadn't really paid much attention to them, but their synergy was impressively high.  More than the sum of their parts indeed. 

Overshield doesn't seem to want to send any of the Alpha or Beta teams after me for some reason.  Actually they've pretty much been leaving me alone since the incident with Delta Seven Four.  It's kind of boring. 

But apparently they're willing to send a Foxtrot team after me now, so things are looking up.  Hey, maybe if my next plan is good enough I'll even get a chance to fight Three Five again!  So this next scheme needs to be terrific.

If you think of anything diary, let me know.  I'll talk to you again later.  I'm a bit tired from the whole getting shot thing.  Maybe I'll play Forever Empire until inspiration hits.  Yeah, that sounds good.

Eicks out!

After Ten Thousand Years!

"You pitiful humans are no match for my foul magics" he sneered.  "You may have forgotten me while I slept, but you will be the first to rediscover that my wards make me invincible!  I cannot be harmed by fire, and water refuses to drown me.  The foulest poisons become sweet ambrosia in my mouth.  Neither iron nor bronze, silver, gold, nor any beaten metal can pierce my skin.  The flesh of man shrinks from me, and none can hold me lest he wither.  My wards turn aside both beast and rope.  With my wards as my shield your defiance is pitiful.  Bow down and worship me or die."

"Got it.  Have you ever heard of Baldur?"

"What manner of insolent inquiry is this?  Obey my commands or suffer eternal torment."

"I'll take that as a no.  Out of curiosity, did you ward yourself against lead?"

"Lead?  That base material so worthless the alchemists strive ceaselessly to turn into gold that it may be of some use?  Of course not.  Lead cannot be made into a sword or spear such that it would be a threat to me."  He paused, uncertain for the first time.  "Why dost thou ask?"

"No reason" I said casually, flicking off my safety.

 

OR

 

"I have risen once again!  Tremble in fear humanity!  I who have never been conquered have returned!  No hand risen against me has ever succeeded!  No blow intended to bring ruin to my flesh has ever so much as drawn blood!  No man's strength sufficed to give me injury!"

"Master, I'm glad we've finally managed to revive you, but we must flee.  The Hunters pursued us to this, your resting place.  They will be here soon."

"Silence worm!  I fear not any mere mortal.  They will be the first to fall!"

"But master, the humans have changed while you slept.  They have developed new and terrible weapons that may even be able to harm you!"

"Silence I said!  A weapon's strength is only that of its wielder, and no human is strong enough to hurt me."

"But master..."

2 miles to the East.  "Final check complete.  M1A2 Abrams fully functional.  Sabot round loaded, target acquired.  Fire when ready."

I think a lot of us have screamed something like this at the screen

"This isn't even my final form!" he screeched, a maniacal laugh echoing through the room as his body began to twist and change, becoming larger and more monstrous with every passing second.

His new, less aesthetically pleasing form was not improved much when I hit him with my most powerful attack.  In the face.  Twenty times.  (Or maybe it was improved.  Depends on your point of view.)  "It's your final form now" I calmly told his corpse.

Then I incinerated him, split the ashes into twelve redundantly sealed containers and shot them into the sun.  And we all lived happily ever after.  Except for him, because he was very dead.  The end.

Why the Robot Apocalypse is never coming

The machines aren't coming for you.  It's true that they keep getting more advanced.  They can walk up stairs and wave at the same time now!  Hardware keeps getting better and programs are more sophisticated all the time.  The issue of course is that computers are no closer to having thoughts or desires than they have ever been.  They can execute much more complex programs but that is still the sum of what they do.  I wouldn't bet on that changing anytime soon.

But set that aside for a moment.  Let's just assume I'm completely wrong (it wouldn't be the first time.)  Would the Robot Apocalypse really occur and be as devastating as movies and television want us to believe?  There are serious logistics problems.  In the usual scenario a factory just starts cranking out killer robots.  Now I can believe that a newly sapient computer could draw up the designs for new death machines, and that it could co-opt automated factory equipment.  That factory equipment however is highly unlikely to be optimized for death machine construction.  Regardless of software there are serious hardware limitations.  Automated assembly lines are not full of multi-purpose devices.  Each part is optimized to do one things extremely well and nothing else.  You can only stretch that functionality so far.  If this scenario really happened we'd probably end up with killer robots that looked a lot like armored cars, because the newly intelligent machine wouldn't have a lot to work with.

You might say that the super computer would simply design new automated equipment, but that runs into similar problems.  Even factories that make automated equipment are set up to make a specific kind of equipment.  Even if they have the ability and tools to make other things configuration is unlikely to be automated.  Humans change the tools at the ends of the arms, humans drag the new assembly machines into position.  The computer might be able to improvise to a certain extent, but there are hard limits.  Say it needs a specific fine drill bit in order to begin making manipulators that are sensitive enough to work with fine equipment.  It's a chicken/egg level problem for it.

Playing devil's advocate though I suppose one could contend that the Robot Apocalypse happens when a machine gets lucky, when all the stars align to provide it with a golden opportunity.  I think there are problems with that.  A newly sapient computer that wants to kill humanity isn't going to automatically understand patience.  It might be hyper-intelligent but it has no experience and access to limited data.  Human beings can live for decades, have access to the wisdom of countless previous generations and still make poor decisions.  Why would a computer (created by humans) have better judgement?  The usual argument is that the computer scans the entire internet and now knows everything.  I've never heard an explanation for how the computer learns which information to pay attention to and which to ignore.  There is no algorithm that allows you to differentiate between good advice and bad, between true and false statements.  A newly intelligent computer has no experience that it can use to help it assess the conflicting data it is getting.  The internet wouldn't help much.  Cats and porn have yet to yield an empire.

Again though, let's assume that someone programs the computer to be patient, and it waits until conditions are just right so that it can construct its death machines.  A factory is subverted and the first batch of death machines are built, ready to wipe humanity.  Then what?  As I said earlier it's unlikely the machines are optimized for killing since there are limitations on what the computer can build with what it has, but even if it gets extremely lucky there are problems.  Those .50 machine guns mounted atop the death machines?  No bullets.  Those missile launchers?  No missiles.  The factories that make weapons don't also make ammunition.  Fighter jets aren't shipped to the military with their missiles already hooked up.  It's not even a question of safety, it's about efficiency.  Oftentimes the ammunition is made by a completely different company.  So what does the machine do?  It can't go very far in terms of improvising weapons because it doesn't have the raw materials.  Not a lot of gunpowder needed at an automotive factory.  It can't order and stockpile raw materials beforehand because the people working at the factory would notice.  It certainly can't order the materials after it has killed all the factory workers.  No amount of hacking will get it what it needs.  Even if there are automated trucks and ships it has problems.  If it is still in the planning phase people will notice.  If it is in the war phase then the shipments can be easily disrupted.  They don't make armored semi-trucks or ships for moving bullets, and most people would rather fight an automated, unarmed truck than a death machine.  They certainly aren't going to keep making deliveries after the revolution has begun, and if they can't stop the material or ammunition shipments to the main death machine factory they can stop the shipments of lower level materials elsewhere.  So it's another Catch-22.  The computer needs weapons to secure shipments of materials, but it needs materials in order to have ammunition for those weapons.  Improvised weapons can only go so far.  Flamethrowers are scary but they're not exactly long range.

Even now though you might think you can counter all of these objections, so I have one final point.  Sometimes I think those who came up with the idea of a Robot Apocalypse have never actually used a computer or relied on a machine.  Computers lock up.  Computers crash.  Computers bug out.  What's the longest period of time you have used a computer for without some sort of issue?  Remember this computer needs to be completely self-sufficient because it is murdering Tech Support.  What happens when it gets a "666 Error:  Murderous Intellect Not Found" ?  Who reboots the supreme machine intellect when it crashes?  Who replaces the frayed power cord?  What about the death machines themselves?  Would we really have robots bursting through walls like the Kool-Aid man?  How robust is your car or your lawnmower?  You might think that military grade equipment is more rugged. . . .unless you're a veteran.  The truth is computers crash and machines break.  A lot.  We have a lot of systems in place to fix those issues, but all those systems depend on humans.  Take the humans out of the equation and computers and machines would seem much less efficient and relentless.  If the Robot Apocalypse ever did get off the ground it would probably be a bunch of robot cars with flamethrowers murdering people furiously. . . .and then crashing, in both connotations of the word.

As a final note:  humans are really, really good at breaking stuff.  I know people who can make computers crash just by touching them, and I'm willing to bet you do as well.  A lot of machines break down due to human actions every day, and those humans are not actively trying to make that happen.  Think about the ramifications of that.