Enneagram – Page 3 – Enneagram and Encaustic

The Ghouls

Episode Four of the Fallout TV series . . .

The title suggests that the Rules of the Magic concerning Fallout ghouls will be explained. In the game, feral ghouls are humans who were radiated into madness; civilized ghouls are humans who were radiated into immortality. The level of exposure is the difference between them. And the post-apocalypse generations mostly distrust ghouls, either because of their looks or their feral cousins. However, if you’re a ghoul, that’s it. The radiation levels set your identity and now you continue with normal life: love, commerce, and survival.

In the show, the Rules for ghouls are different. Let’s see how detailed their explanation gets.

This is a dark episode. Some gruesome details are going to be necessary for this breakdown.

The Head

Episode Three of the Fallout TV series begins . . .

LEFTOVER NINE

Title card: THE BEGINNING

Pre-apocalypse Cooper, wearing a fringed cowboy shirt, holds a gun on a cringing villain. After a beat, Cooper looks at the camera and says, “Do I really have to kill him?” Pull out to reveal a film set.

The director comes over. Cooper plays a sheriff who normally just arrests people. Director Emil explains that now they want a good man to wrestle with evil. A new kind of western. Where’s Bob, the old writer? Fired, for being a communist.

Outside of the set, Coop flirts with a stylish woman, Barb, who is his wife. Janey the daughter joins them. Barb is there in a professional capacity, though. She’s arranged a photo shoot for Coop during his lunch break. He carries the costume box as the family strolls down the studio street.

ONE

Hard cut to a bloody, headless torso. Ghoul Coop, puzzled, examines it. Coughing, he opens a little case from his pack and loads a vial into an inhaler, taking a hit. Relief. Looking around past the derelict Slocum Joe’s, he sees foot prints in the sand headed to the city on the horizon. He and Four, the dog, set off walking.

Roll title.

The Target

Episode Two of the Fallout TV series begins . . .

LEFTOVER NINE

Small puppies in a laboratory. A sign on the wall says, “Incinerate newborns less than 10 ounces.” We see one rat-sized pup tossed into the fire. A doctor — wearing round glasses and looking like our bingo man — furtively weighs a pup who is just under the limit. He records a fake weight and brands the pup’s belly with a number, CX404. (For some reason the pups are born blackened as if they’ve been soaked in tar.)

Iris-fade to a proper puppy being weighed. Our Glasses Doctor picks it up, petting it, and carries it out of Behavioral Engineering. He takes it through a security checkpoint and past grown dogs being identically trained. In his office (his name, Dr. Wilzig is on the door) he encourages the puppy with treats and a stuffed teddy bear. (YAY! Dogmeat in game will randomly toss about a teddy.)

Transition to a bigger puppy, and then a dog. Wilzig continues to gently train CX. Behind his office chalkboard is a hole in the wall where CX has her bed. He’s developing something: A blue glowing chip in a glass jar. Taking a swig for the pain, Wilzig injects the chip behind his own ear, then cauterizes the site. CX watches as he writhes. Behind his ear and under the skin we can see the glow of blue from the chip.

He’s just putting CX back in her cubby when another doctor walks in and begins arguing with him. They struggle, and Wilzig is pushed down. Out comes CX, charging and attacking. Blood.

Wilzig leads CX out of the facility, escaping. Just as they get clear, a machine gun turret (YAY!) pops up. He and CX run away. In the background are high, snowy mountains and dim light. (Anchorage?)

Roll title card.

The End (Part Three)

Episode One of the Fallout TV series concludes . . .

We’ve ignored Goggins long enough. Let’s look at that opening scene with Cooper Howard.

ONE

Wearing a flashy cowboy outfit, he sits on a horse, performing lasso tricks. Nat King Cole plays, over, which is wonderfully Fallout. So far, so good. Cooper is entertaining poolside at a suburban child’s birthday party. In a matching outfit, a girl smiles and applauds. (We assume, rightly, that this is his daughter.)

Briefly insert a radio, broadcasting tense international news. Indoors, adults watch a TV reporting on trouble in Anchorage, Alaska (easter egg from Fallout 3) and the threat of nuclear war. Birthday Mom shuts off both devices.

A beautiful, Technicolor-dream shot of the yard gives a semi-futuristic view of the city skyline. (It feels like this is California, one of the classic Fallout New Vegas locations.) Cooper finishes his rodeo trick and invites birthday boy for a picture on the horse. Two fathers gossip about Cooper doing party side gigs to meet his alimony payments. As they snap pictures, they ask Cooper to do his “thumbs up”. Cooper demures, even though he’s “famous for it”. Birthday Mom pays him, the fathers look on with snide faces, and Cooper leads his horse and his daughter away from them.

The fathers refer to Cooper as a “Pinko”. (The nuclear enemy in Fallout are stereotyped Chinese communists.)

The End (Part Two)

Episode One of the Fallout TV series continues . . .

ONE

With no introduction, this storyline starts mid-episode with a man in a possible boot camp situation as he’s beaten up by other recruits.

Roll title card: MAXIMUS.

His friend and fellow recruit, Dane, runs over and helps him up.

Establish the location. A Brotherhood of Steel (BoS) flag is raised. We see an isolated camp with barracks. Johnny Cash plays, over.

Maximus attends class in an airplane hangar; the Cleric teacher presents the tenets of the BoS. Squires will help their Knights identify pre-war tech and secure it from the Wasteland. Maximus appears to be daydreaming. Cleric Felix puts him on the spot with a test to identify a relic. He fails, and Felix clocks his nose with a thick ruler. If you don’t know what to preserve, you’re useless.

The End (Part One)

Did anyone doubt that, when a major series about a beloved video game dropped, I wouldn’t review it, lol? It’s a Fallout show, and I have played this game up and down, backwards and forwards. I’ve had huge anticipation and dread, hoping the showrunners would do a good job representing the tone of the world.

So, how did they do? This is a freshly dropped series. Spoilers will be everywhere in the following. And, I’m reviewing it as I watch. I don’t know where the series will take us.

In Episode One, we basically have three stories. I hope (and intend to find out) that each has its own Enneagram structure. The great Walton Goggins opens the series, showing us the pre-apocalyptic world. He will bookend the beginning of the episode and coming in at the close. I’ll deal with him later. Another storyline involves an initiate to the Brotherhood of Steel, Maximus. I’ll cover him in the next analysis.

For this post, let’s look at our Vault Dweller, Lucy MacLean. (Why they named her after Die Hard’s daughter, I’m not sure. I think it’s just a nod.) I’m going to be overwhelmed by all the brilliant easter eggs this series includes. How am I supposed to gush without bogging down my comments? The details — and in a game where you collect junk for scrap, every detail is instantly recognizable — are beautiful. I won’t be able to resist some happy pointing and clapping. Please excuse my ‘stanning.

MARTIN FREEMAN’S DR. WATSON

Why would this Watson stay with this Holmes? The traditional relationship has him chronicle their adventures, but this is only hinted at for a future project. His expertise as a doctor is glancingly mentioned.

It’s his return from the military. Watson misses the action and doesn’t know how to transition back to civilian life. At least, that’s what I see from the acting and very subtle writing clues. Watson is an adrenaline junkie, and Holmes provides the fix. It’s an interesting (and lonely) take on the doctor. He’s a man hanging by a thread. Integrating with society, finding a purpose — this is good storytelling. Freeman brings much subtext that is enticing. I’m more interested in his sidekick story than I am in the protagonist’s.

Well, that’s regretful.

So, who is a man that lets Holmes walk all over him in order to get a taste of the life he left?

Because Holmes is a Four, the obvious choice for Watson is a Nine. (They are incredibly codependent.) Neither of these numbers is a Head Type, which is fresh but also puzzling for a brainy detective genre. Watson likes conflict too much in this version to be a Nine. Unless . . . he’s an anti-Nine as Sherlock is an anti-Four.

Ah. I think this might be the case. They’re both true to their numbers by exhibiting the worst variations of their Enneagram. An anti-Nine seeks conflict in a self-destructive, uncontrolled way. He’s burning down the house by going against everything in which a Nine finds comfort and security. Normally a Nine likes when a Four expresses all the emotions they want to ignore. Except that this Four expresses no emotions at all, leaving the Nine to carry the load. It’s totally ill. These men are toxic for each other. Because the production is of a high quality, and because the acting is some of the best, the show has a hook. Everyone loves to watch Holmes mystify with his abilities. This version has a dark underbelly, though. It’s my least favorite so far.

BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH’S HOLMES, FOUR

In the first episode, this Sherlock Holmes describes himself as a “high-functioning sociopath”. Is he? Holmes is traditionally eccentric, perhaps autistic. This is a new direction for the character. I don’t particularly like it.

Generally, Holmes’ big brain distances him from people, alienates him. It’s part of the job of being a super-detective, and he accepts that. However, he still wants to connect with people. Dr. Watson was originally a writing tool to let Holmes explain a case to the reader via his companion. Over time, though, their relationship developed into a friendship or a partnership.

That isn’t the case in this series. Watson is more of a comedic straight man, and often the butt of the joke. Holmes forgets Watson exists at times, moving on with a case without caring if he follows.

Is this a real person, or a Null?

My initial reaction is that this Holmes can’t be a Heart Type. Social interaction holds no interest for him. But, then . . . wait. Sociability is very important to him: He thrives on rejecting it and demeaning those who would try to connect with him. He’s a kind of anti-Heart Type.

Alright. Not my favorite choice, but I will grant its legitimacy.

This Holmes is, sadly, no Two. (He collects nothing, not even the arcane or macabre.) He’s too unlikable to be a Three, even with his trope subversion. That makes him a Four. In this regard, he continues to fight against convention. He’s neither happy nor sad, up nor down. Emotionally he has one speed. He’s a mash-up of depression and ebullience. I’m not sure of the clinical definition of sociopath, but this might be it.

He’s consistent. But he’s not fun. He takes the darkest aspects of a Four — selfishness, a teasing cruelty — and doesn’t offset them with a Four’s redeeming qualities of vulnerability and emotional depth. This version proves that being clever isn’t enough for a Sherlock Holmes. He needs more.

WILLOW, SIX

Is it fair to call Willow (1988) a St. Patrick’s Day film? There’s nothing particularly Irish about it at first glance. However . . . The brownies are small and puckish, like leprechauns. Fairies flit about. The baby who plays Elora Danan wears a red wig. (Heh.) Something about the tone of the movie feels appropriate for the holiday. Well, that’s what I proclaim, and let us proceed accordingly.

Who is our eponymous hero, the young and earnest Willow?

He’s a family man, a farmer, with a dream to become a wizard’s apprentice. His children and his wife rescue a mysterious baby from the river. Although he’s worried, he accepts the change in his fate Elora brings. He’ll need to make a trip to protect her, leaving his family behind.

In the village, Willow doesn’t envy his fellows. He wants to be picked to study with the wizard, but he doesn’t begrudge the other contestants. He’s not a Heart Type.

He’s also not a Body Type. He will never be one of his village’s warriors. He goes on the mission to return Elora because of responsibility and compassion, not for any pursuit of adventure or activity.

He’s a Six. That commitment to right and wrong drives him forward. It’s how he can hector Madmartigan, a large foreigner in a cage, without thinking of his own safety. He disrupts the evil plans of Bavmorda, despite his fear, because he loves Elora. He strives to transmorph Fin Raziel not because he will learn magic from her, but because she will help the baby.

Willow is a man who does his duty, quietly tilling the land, while dreaming of a different career (which is likely to never materialize). Sixes hold a longing that breaks my heart.

Maybe that’s the reason it feels so Irish to me.

Story Enneagram of Season One, The Rings of Power

Here’s the challenge with this series: it’s a prequel. Not everything in Tolkien’s lore is familiar to everyone, but the basic plot of his main trilogy is extremely well known. Elendil and Isildur will strike down Sauron. Therefore, neither of them can die in this series. Mt. Doom and Mordor will never again be the green Southlands. Therefore, Númenor will fail to take it back. Durin will delve too deep and his entire kingdom will perish. Therefore, the disagreement with his father has nothing at stake. Every plotline, with the possible exception of Nori, deals with failure. It’s a pretty depressing tale! I need to really love these characters to follow them on this tragic journey. How do these characters build the world of Frodo’s time? Their connection to the Tolkien I know engages me, even if this era is dark.

How does the map of this story become the Middle-Earth we know so well?