Abby writes...

I enjoyed your ramble on "Possession." This episode holds a special place for me as one of the very first I saw. In your "pre-ramble" you mention the complexity of this one - imagine the confusion to someone unfamiliar with the characters! But this complexity is part of what drew me to the series and why I still enjoy it so much. I still catch new things when I watch this episode.

I did, however, immediately notice the "Bewitched" reference as well as the parallels to the Star Trek body-switching episode (which helped me better understand what was going on, especially on repeat viewings). I'd wondered if the inspiration for the switching triangle came from Trek; thanks for the clarification! (Incidentally, that Trek episode was called "Return to Tomorrow." I much prefer "Possession" - it's a much better description of the action, and made me think of that old line "possession is nine-tenths of the law" when the characters were tempted to keep their new bodies).

I also prefer the "Gargoyles" resolution to the dilemma of where to put the newly-transferred personalities. In Trek they go off into oblivion, having decided our species isn't ready for them yet. But "Possession" offers the prospect of future stories with these characters.

I enjoyed seeing Alex's winged plushie and the expressions on Broadway's and Angela's faces when Othello and Desdemona leave them mid-embrace.

Other one liners I like are from Michael Dorn (Puck-as-Coldstone): "I trust you have no more questions" and "Wouldn't you like to know."

Thanks for the ramble.

Tom C writes...

What inspired you to write Gargoyles.

JJ Gregarius writes...

When you rambled about "The Gathering, Part I", you mentioned a scene that reminded you of the famous "Tears" scene from Blade Runner.

This reminded me of Bonkers, of all things. In particular, I thought of an episode entitled "Do Toons Dream of Animated Sheep?" or something to that effect, obviously a play on Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, the novel Blade Runner was loosely based upon,

My question is: Was someone thinking of Blade Runner during the creation and/or production of Bonkers? I realize that any link between Bonkers and Blade Runner would be tenuous at best.

However, if I recall correctly, many humans in Bonkers felt uncomfortable actually being around 'toons. Maybe the tenuous link I mentioned is the notion that humans would be afraid of powerful non-humans; in Bonkers' case, toons that can survive terrible explosions and the like. Also, from some of the Piquel episodes, it seems that humans created toons (remembr Piquel's daughter and the magic pencil?). Then, could there also be a "Frankenstein" angle in here, which could add meat to the aforementioned tenuous link?

Still, no-one was "retiring" toons, unless you count Who Framed Roger Rabbit? as part of the Bonkers universe, and think about Judge Doom....

Axem Gold writes...

First of all, I apologize for posting the question about Crisis On Infinite Earths. I missed that one while browsing the archives, anyway I have a few comments:

1. I'll be getting the JLA Showcase. The issue with the Captain Atom/JLE/Gargoyles. For anyone else reading who has a question about the issue, its: JLA Showcase #1 (February 2000) 80 Page.

2. I'm sure this would be on topic since like question 1 it is about comic book heroes. You considered the Original Pack to be a cross between Power Rangers/Professional Wrestling, and Macbeth to be an Anti-Batman. Now could Xanatos be considered an Anti-Iron Man?

Both Xanatos and Tony Stark are both wealthy, as well as having facial hair and wear a suit of tech armor.

What do you think?

Legend84 (Newphoenix84) writes...

I was wondering the character Xanatos has very similar lives with Tony Stark was there any influences on creating Xanatos with Ironman? Thanks in advance.

Todd Jensen writes...

This is more a comment than a question, but I found myself remembering something. You mentioned having worked on the development of the original version of "Bonkers", the one where he was teamed up with Miranda Wright. One of the episodes from that version of "Bonkers", I recall (my memories are a little over ten years old, and a bit rusty), had Bonkers and Miranda after a band of gangsters who were after a long-gone gangster's treasure, the clue to which was on "page 23" (I think that it was 23, though I could be wrong) of a book, but they didn't know which book. So they were stealing Page 23 from every book that they could find - and when they found the correct page, it led to what was at first sight a poetry book - and in the same episode, Bonkers had taken up poetry (even composing a poem that was a take-off on Lord Byron's "She walks in beauty like the night") and viewed the poetry book as real treasure.

It struck me that, although it might have been only a coincidence, the episode feels almost like a foreshadowing of both "A Lighthouse in the Sea of Time" (both episodes had a strong pro-literacy message and the beauties of the written word proving to be the "real treasure") and "The Silver Falcon" (the antagonists searching for the treasure of a long-gone gangster). I just thought that I'd bring it up here.

Lenny Ernquist writes...

In some of the episodes of Gargoyles I noticed how similar the storylines are to Star Trek. Did Star Trek influence some of your plot devices for Gargoyles?

Zel writes...

Can you give us fans a short little bibliography of all the mythology used in Gargoyles? Any other good reccomended reads? I dig your storytelling style, and I'm hoping that you write a novel sometime soon

Drew Lung writes...

Hey, it's me again.

You said that you tried to get all the myths into 'Gargoyles, but you neglected J.R.R. Tolkien's works. Why? This is probably the dumbest question you've ever been asked on this site, but I must know.

Edi writes...

Hello, Greg. This is a question I wanted to ask: Have your kids, Erin and Benny, played inspiration in you in any of your cartoons, including Gargoyles and Max Steel?

Anonymous writes...

What where gargoyles for and why they where put on churches ?

iamsingleandsexy writes...

What gave you the idea for Gargoyles?

Lawrence Matheson writes...

who invented robotic body armour? was it MacBeth?Renard?Xanitos? or someone else?

Sahyinepu writes...

I have been watching Gargoyles for some years, and was personally very pleased with how you portrayed the character of Yinepu/Anubis. I was curious why He in particular made the show, while other Names of Netjer did not? Did you plan later to include other Names as well? Also, how difficult did you find it to include religious elements of varying faiths without stepping on toes, in particular of still very much thriving faiths, like Judaism?

Gothic Cowboy writes...

Domo Arigato, Weisman-sama. Concerning an earlier question by another petitioner regarding the Lost Race and how they stack up to Lovecraft's Old Ones, in brief, the Old Ones are beings (often aquatic or semi-aquatic) who ruled the Earth prior to the rise of man, but whose society was brought low through rampant use of Black Magic (of a sort). A few survivors still exist, slumbering in great voids. The important thing to remember about them is that they aren't good or evil. They are so far beyond humanity that any attempt to understand them results in madness. They are usually barely aware of the little humans and unconcerned with us, but they radiate waves of psychic madness, causing insanity. I highly recommend his stuff, by the way. It actually disturbed me.

Anonymous writes...

Is Nokkar the Sentinel your version of the Green Lantern in the Gargoyles Universe just as Cuchullain and Coyote were your ideas of Thor and Ultron?

Punchinello writes...

<<Gargoyles as well can type on keyboards and relay thought. Lexington with very little experience in terms of years and could only practice at night, was able to punch a keyboard judging by the "clicking" sound of the keyboard at nearly 129 words per minute, without looking and locate Coldstone in MacBeth's mansion. Quite impressive really.>>

Breathtaking.

<<Yet his thoughts were in English.>>

No. They were not. Look. Mental concepts (especially highly abstract concepts) do not emerge from language. It works the other way around. Concepts are formed internally. We can use language to describe them but we don't need to. That's the important distinction.
Consider the acquisition of tool use. A tool you have never used before. Lets consider something like a construction crane. You see it's controls. By experimentation you might begin to discern the function of each control. But none of this is the product of some mental narrative. Pretend you've never seen a crane before. Maybe you're an aboriginal who has never seen western devices. Better yet, pretend you're Lexington. You're a gargoyle transplanted from 10th century Scotland into contemporary America. Lexington has never seen a lever. He's never seen a gas pedal or a start button. If you sit him in a crane and point to controls and tell him what each one _is called_ what do you think it would mean to him? Nothing. Simply calling something a gas pedal gives it no context. You have not imparted anything about it's function. Lexington has no concept that these structures in front of him have functional relationships with the larger device. However, if he experiments, he can begin to observe that if he pushes the lever forward, the crane rotates clockwise. If he pulls it backwards, the crane rotates counterclockwise. He can make associations now, and he can begin to detect patterns. He can anticipate that if moving a control in one direction corresponds to one function, then moving it in the other corresponds to the opposite function. This process of observation, association and anticipation is an example of conceptual thinking. In order to understand the crane, he would have needed to think about it in concepts. Not in English.

The corollary to the computer should be clear. Lexington simply could not have considered the novelty of the computer in words. He would have no words to describe it's properties, it's function or it's nature. If you were transplanted 1000 years into the future and someone handed you a solid metal sphere and told you to use it to write words, how would you contemplate the thing they handed you? It's surface is smooth. No obvious control mechanisms. No obvious surface features of any kind. So how the devil do you write with it? Speculating about it's functionality is a highly conceptual and visual process. If handwriting and typing are both lost arts in 1000 years, then you don't even have words to describe this thing's function.

Think about how Lexington would actually interpret a computer. You have a conceptual understanding of what a keyboard is, but Lexington doesn't. He's never seen a typewriter. He's never even seen a printing press. Do you suppose that when Lexington ponders this device, his thinking takes the form of mentally spoken instructions? Instructions to do what? To type? He has no concept of typing. He would be as mystified by this thing as you would be by the sphere.

However, if he can observe the device in use, and if he can experiment with it, then just as with the crane, he can begin to infer the functional relationships of the keys. He can form a mental picture of how this device works. At that point, he's certainly free to attribute words to the concepts if he want's to communicate them to someone else, but he doesn't need to. His ability to think about the device is not contingent upon his ability to describe those thoughts linguistically.

Proponents of the idea that thought is a purely linguistic process cling to this fantasy that thought is a perpetual little personal narration providing us with instructions. As though a little person were sitting on our shoulder whispering to us. Even if this ridiculous picture of the thought process were verifiable, consider that it would be useless as a medium for thought. Instructions mean nothing without concepts. Even simple concepts.

What about Bronx...

The point of my original thesis on sentience was that it is frequently treated in an uncritical and mentally lazy way. It enters popular culture, not as anything analytical, but as an imagined distinction between those we have to respect and those we don't have to treat with any kind of consideration.

So, is the mental world of Bronx (or Cagney) diminished by their not being able to articulate it? It should be evident that the notion their thought hinges upon language is ridiculous. Can we say they are sentient? Can we say they have the ability to observe, make inferences and anticipate? Can we say they are aware?

Of course. It's not just a matter of our having significant evidence for the ability of non-humans to have this type of mental experience. It's profoundly unreasonable to maintain that they are not aware and intelligent when we consider the emergence of intelligence in pre-history. It's often supposed that these mental abilities just suddenly appeared in homo sapiens, as if by magic, once we passed a certain threshold in our evolution. Nothing compels this feature to emerge, according to popular mythology. It just shows up unannounced. And it renders homo sapiens capable of language and tool use in a single second of evolutionary history.

Now, evolutionary psychologists have realized for a long time, that this picture of the development of intelligence was as silly as they come. Highly ordered structures like awareness and intellect don't just appear all at once. They emerge over time from more primitive systems. Intelligence evolved under the pressures that all species face in nature.

Awareness and thought did not emerge from nature as a means to get us into college or to allow us to write resumes. They emerged as a means to avoid large predators and distinguish things we can eat from things that can eat us. Living beings need to be able to distinguish between these two things in order to survive. The ability to contemplate concepts of things in our environment is just the natural product of species adapting to interact beneficially with it. All of our mental abilities are inherited from our earliest ancestors and were developed as an instrument for them to survive. The development of these faculties simply could never have delayed emerging until after we developed language.

If you consider it, you will discover that abstract concepts frequently defy linguistic expression, because our ability to think abstractly developed independently of language. You can't really describe a sophisticated mathematical concept or a work of music in words. They can only be contemplated conceptually. In fact very common things defy linguistic expression. Try this experiment.

Describe the color red.

The reason we cant is because the linguistic structure to describe it does not exist. It didn't emerge because it does not serve to benefit our species survival in any way. Yet you can picture red mentally. Or any number of colors. Doubtlessly, a variety of hues, which you might not even have a name for, exist in your mind. They exist as concepts. Mental pictures. And their inability to be defined linguistically does not diminish them. You can picture red. You can apply it to various forms. You can anticipate what would happen if you mixed it with another color. But you don't need language to do that. The imaginative process, the conceptual process, has nothing to do with language.

<<Eskimos have something like seven words that really just mean "snow". Yet an Eskimo thinks like an Eskimo and can judge the minor differences in the type of snow they see and to them one kind of snow is not "a" snow but a "d" snow and ect.. >>

This anecdote about Eskimo's having such a plurality of words for snow is often referred to in arguments for the dependence of thought on language. I don't know why. It does not appear to lend anything to this position. I guess the idea is that the way Eskimo's think about snow is supposed to be structurally different from the way english speakers think of snow. If they do, then it's not evident that it follows from their having more words for snow. In fact, I'm pretty sure there are at least a dozen words for snow in the english language. Flurry, Slush, Hardpack, Frost, Powder, IceLens, etc. And if we include all the descriptive lexemes that we count when we talk about the Eskimo words for snow, then there are probably dozens more in english.

This really is not an indicator that thought is contingent upon language. I can provide an analogous example though, which begins to demonstrate that thought takes place in the absence of language. Colors end up being a good example again, because they are such a large part of our visual world.

In Swedish, there are probably as many words to describe various colors as there are in English. Possibly more. I know they have a special word for light gray. Linguistic relativists would take the position that the Swedish or English must be thinking about colors in a way that is fundamentally denied to people of other cultures, who do not have all these words for colors.

There are many, such cultures. For instance, the Tiv language of New Guinea, where there are only two words for colors, equivalent to light and dark. A Swedish scientific study done years ago sought to test the theory that thought must be absent where language to describe something is also absent. However, when tested, it became apparent that Tiv speakers were able to recognize as many colors (and with the same facility) as Swedish speakers. This is certainly an indicator that thought exists without the benefit of language.

<<Luckily for us I suppose that as humans we all relatively think alike even with our differing way of thinking.>>

I find some arguments for deep structure very persuasive Vanity, but you treat the concept in a way which is very far removed from those arguments.

<<This allows for learning multiple languages each human no matter his language that language has the ability to "learn" or adapt to the use of another language and that is quite a remarkable thing. Almost too remarkable to be chance. >>

Has this become a prescription for theology now?

Todd Jensen writes...

I was just looking through the archives again, and noticed a question about what Goliath's favorite books were. You mentioned that "Great Expectations" was one that came to mind.

This actually amused me a little, for there was one aspect of the book that reminded me a lot of "Gargoyles", in the way that Dickens connected the two convicts whom Pip has to help hide at the beginning of the book with the Miss Havisham and Estella part of the story (warning to those who haven't read the book: spoilers follow): it later on turns out that Magwitch (one of those two convicts) was Estella's father and that the other convict (whose name I forget) was the man who left her standing at the altar. That element of interconnectedness definitely struck me as something straight out of "Gargoyles" in terms of the way that everything turned out to be linked to everything else eventually.

I don't know if you had that in mind when you mentioned the book in your answer, but it did make me see its inclusion as appropriate.

Rising Moon Starsword Warrior Daiginga writes...

About Nokkar was he by any chance inspired by the Green Lantern Corp which had members stationed all over the galaxy like the N'kai Sentinels?

Christina (CelebornEstel@aol.com) writes...

I've been a fan of Gargoyles for a while and I was wondering what a few characters were based on. The mythology is put into the sotry so well and fits like a puzzle. Anyway, I was wondering who the Weird Sisters and Megus. The mythology of the story is beautiful and the plot is extraordinary. So, That's my question- What were Megus and The Weird Sisters based on?

scott writes...

was the castle the gargoyles protected based on a real castle? if so what is its name? if not where can i find a good picture of it?

Todd Jensen writes...

My ramble on "Avalon Part Two".

I really liked this episode (and never had any confusion with the time loop, since I've done similar things in my own fiction, conceived years before "Gargoyles" ever came out; indeed, a certain time loop that I've planned in the book that I'm currently writing - although I can't say anything more about it than that - fits beautifully the part where the Archmages say to each other "You're sure you know what to do?" "Of course. I've watched you do it.")

The introduction of Angela and Gabriel's names (alongside the whole "gargoyles being given names" process that you referred to) illustrates nicely just how Princess Katharine and the Magus's attitudes towards gargoyles have changed since "Awakening Part One". Now, they're naming gargoyles after angels rather than villainous giants. (Although, regarding Boudicca's name, as we agreed earlier, they couldn't have been too familiar with the original Boudicca's career when they named the gargoyle beast.)

I picked up easily enough on Angela's parentage (especially because of that article that I mentioned in the "Double Jeopardy" ramble); I never even suspected that Gabriel might be Othello and Desdemona's biological offspring until I discovered Gargoyles fandom on the Internet, though.

I definitely guessed from the start who the Sleeping King was (of course, from the moment that Avalon got into the story, I was hoping that Arthur would show up - and was mentally jumping up and down in excitement when Elisa actually asked about him at the end of Part Two). It's interesting to note that, judging from the Archmage's response, even by the late 10th century in the Gargoyles Universe, Arthur had faded into the mists of legend (of course, the same thing must have been true of him in the real world, judging from what I've read about early mentions of him in medieval writings predating Geoffrey of Monmouth).

About the Weird Sisters: I was more bothered over the Grace vs. Vengeance conflict than the Fate vs. Vengeance one, for my part. I was having a very difficult time reconciling their desire for blood and vengeance with all their talk in "City of Stone" about every life being precious and vengeance being wrong. (It actually made them seem worse than the Archmage, in fact; he, at least, was introduced in the series as a villain from the start, while the Sisters started off appearing to be benevolent. Truth to tell, my response to their behavior in "Avalon" was probably not too different from how Lexington felt in "The Thrill of the Hunt" when he discovered that the Pack weren't quite so heroic as they'd seemed to be).

I agree with you on David Warner's voice; it's great. Definitely justified bringing the Archmage back. (I'm actually reminded of an episode of "Batman Beyond" that I once saw. In it, Bruce Wayne had a reunion with Talia, only to discover that she'd been "taken over" by Reis el-Ghul following his final defeat by Batman (off-stage, some years previous), who'd somehow transferred his consciousness into her body. During the latter part of the episode - after the truth was revealed - Talia spoke in Reis's voice, done by David Warner as per "Batman: TAS". Although I knew that that was scientifically impossible - a mere mind-transplant couldn't have altered her voice - I didn't protest because David Warner did such a great job that he simply had to be in that episode. Leaving him out of the voice actor roster for the story would have been unthinkable.)

And I agree with you that, despite all his power, the Archmage ultimately comes across as not all that bright. (My favorite part is where he has to admit that, although he's spent all that time seeking to unite all three magical objects into one big Triad of Power, he hasn't even decided what he's going to do with it. And he even has to be nudged by his future self into picking the obvious goal for a cliched villain: Taking Over the World.) I LOL when you mentioned that the real reason why the two Archmages can't work together for long was because of their utter arrogance.

The scene where he becomes the "enhanced Archmage", as I call him, was very effective - and the bit where he eats the Grimorum definitely jolted me. It'd been around from the very start of the series, and so it shook me up a bit to see it go. (I know that the book's real end is in Part Three, but for me, the bit where the Archmage eats it is where it exits the series). And I also really liked the "caption countdown". It gave a feel of approaching ominousness and tension.

I'm eagerly awaiting your Part Three ramble now.

Anonymous writes...

Have you read "Anubis Gates"?

Todd Jensen writes...

My ramble on "Upgrade".

I'll confess, for a start, that "Upgrade" isn't one of my favorite episodes, due mostly to the fact that it seemed much more like a half-hour "slugfest" than is generally the case with "Gargoyles" (although, given that we're dealing with the Pack here, I suppose it's inevitable - they're not the most subtle antagonists out there, after all). But it had some parts of it that I rather liked.

The transformations of Jackal, Hyena, and Wolf definitely freaked me out. In fact, the first time that I saw this episode, I tried to believe, for a while, that Jackal and Hyena were simply wearing fancy mechanical armor, but the evidence against that was too strong; I had to face the facts, in the end, and realized that they'd become cyborgs. And that definitely chilled me. (In Wolf's case, I didn't even have the option of finding an alternative explanation; it was too obvious that he'd been mutated.) Those three had permanently changed, on the physical level, from what they'd been in "The Thrill of the Hunt". They were no longer fully human. In fact, to me, the real significance of their alterations in "Upgrade" wasn't what you'd pointed out (they need to be upgraded so that it won't be too easy for the gargoyles to take them down - though I did see that there) but rather the way that the three of them were growing less human, their physical transformation being almost an outward sign of their increasing degeneracy.

By contrast, I liked Dingo's refusal to become physically upgraded, and horror at what his teammates had done to themselves. In fact, that was definitely when I began to like Dingo, as opposed to seeing him as just another member of the Pack (as he'd been to me up until then). (It certainly echoed my response to their transformations, which, I suspect, was how most of the audience was similarly responding). I wasn't surprised, therefore, when he was no longer with the Pack in "Grief" afterwards, or when he was shown seeking to "go straight" in "Walkabout". This was definitely the point where we see the "break with Eastcheap" (I chose that particular phrase inspired by your idea of Dingo's real name being Harry Monmouth, and the parallel is definitely there - though I might add that I don't see any of his former Pack-mates being a Falstaff-figure - more on the level of Falstaff's associates like Bardolph or Pistol, perhaps, but not scaling the heights of comic genius of Sir John himself - not that they were meant to.)

We also see the definite introduction (though it'd been hinted at in "Leader of the Pack") of Hyena's interest in Coyote, which has to count as the most bizarre relationship in "Gargoyles"; even Jackal gets nauseated by it, and this is a guy whose idea of a good time is redesigning Goliath's features in his stone sleep.

One side-note: re Hyena's wondering aloud whether gargoyles taste like chicken. I've sometimes wondered why the phrase is "tastes like chicken" as opposed to "tastes like beef" or "tastes like pork", or "tastes like turkey". Just one of life's little mysteries, I suppose.

On the gargoyles' side, we get to see Brooklyn becoming the new second in command. I will admit that I honestly hadn't wondered about that issue until the episode came out. (I've occasionally wondered if Goliath didn't pick one before this episode had anything to do with it having last been filled by Demona, but that's probably a bit of a stretch.) I did think that Brooklyn fitted the role well, and liked the bit at the end where he admits that he's not in that big a hurry to take Goliath's place. And where Goliath offers the role to Hudson, but Hudson declines it.

I still get a kick out of Fox's little public service announcement: "Don't 'Pack' it in. Take the train." Pretty clever of her.

I don't find Officer Morgan's remark that troublesome; in fact, I found it quite amusing.

Incidentally, Xanatos's remark at the end about having found a true equal in Fox reminds me of your analysis of Theseus, where you saw him as having found his equal in the Amazon Queen Hippolyta/Antiope. It makes me wonder whether you'd included a little of your perception of Theseus and Hippolyta in Xanatos and Fox (whether consciously or otherwise). Come to think of it, there's even a slight connection between the two couples, via "A Midsummer Night's Dream".

Todd Jensen writes...

Yay! A new episode ramble! Thanks, Greg!

Here are some of my own thoughts about "Double Jeopardy".

The opening one is a rather odd little memory. In the summer of 1995, I spotted an article on "Gargoyles" in a sci-fi magazine (whose name I can no longer remember) discussing what would be done in Season Two; among other things, it included a mention that Goliath's daughter would be introduced into the series. I was quite curious about that, and wondered what she'd be like and how it would be done. And then, when "Double Jeopardy" first aired, and Thailog was treated as Goliath's son in it, I wondered if the article had erred and gotten the gender of Goliath's offspring wrong. (Of course, I know now that it was Angela that the article meant, not Thailog, so that there was no mistake there except on my part.)

In light of the opening flashback, Xanatos must have already started building a whole new set of Steel Clan robots even while he was still in prison, before "The Edge" (especially given that I spotted a whole bunch of those robots in storage, alongside the one that was activated to attack Goliath).

I also liked Owen's "Is this a plan that you've neglected to mention?" line. He really sounded hurt there.

I was interested to notice Renard on Xanatos's suspects list for Thailog's kidnapping, alongside Demona and Macbeth. While I can easily imagine Demona or Macbeth being willing to engage in such a maneuver against Xanatos, I doubt, in light of his rigid code of integrity, that Renard would have done the same (although there is "Golem" to consider, coming up later in the season). Maybe Xanatos believed that the temptation of kidnapping his new gargoyle would have been too much for even his father-in-law to resist.

Sevarius's hamming it up with Xanatos ("Yes! You robbed me of my creation!") was one of the funniest moments in "Gargoyles" for me; certainly the funniest in the episode. (Don't quit your day job, Anton.) And I agree with you about the Dr. Antinori business, by the way. (Also on the subject of Sevarius's overacting, I couldn't help but think that some of his narration in the "clone files" that Lex and Broadway discovered felt almost like a parody of that in a nature documentary, such as the "time for it to leave the nest" line, though I don't know if it was intended that way.)

You no doubt recall how I'd earlier pointed out the similarities between Thailog and Edmund (which I first began to notice after you mentioned Edmund being your favorite Shakespeare character); it occurred to me recently that Thailog also does have a certain similarity to Mordred, especially in many modern-day versions of the Arthurian legend, such as T. H. White. He's Goliath's "illegitimate son", just as Mordred was Arthur's, and his training by his other two fathers, Xanatos and Sevarius, does have (if you're out looking for the parallels) a certain echo of how Mordred, in White's "The Once and Future King", similarly gets trained by his mother Morgause. And the dynamics between Goliath and Thailog, with Goliath initially rejecting his son but then learning that he was wrong to do so, and now reaching out to him - but too late - do remind me of how in White, Arthur similarly initially moves against his son (trying to drown him at birth), but then understands that he was wrong to do so, also makes the attempt to reach out to him, but is coldly rejected by Mordred when he does so. (Come to think of it, Thailog also clearly lusts after both of Goliath's loves, Demona and Elisa, even to the point of combining them in Delilah, just as Mordred lusts after his stepmother Guinevere and attempts to wed her after he usurps his father's throne.)

I've mentioned before the element that I believe makes Thailog an especially great antagonist (the incongruous pairing of Goliath's physical appearance and voice with a thoroughly Xanatosian amorality - though I think that Thailog comes across as more malevolent than Xanatos does, which is also a good touch), so I won't go into that again. It's a bit of a pity that he only turned up twice more in the original series after that ("Sanctuary" and "The Reckoning"), although I suppose that if you'd gotten to do more episodes past "The Journey" that we'd have gotten a lot more of the guy.

The ending definitely surprised me; I was expecting Xanatos to reveal that he'd seen to it that he didn't lose the ransom money after all, but instead we got the revelation that Thailog had escaped with it and is out there, happily scheming away, to Xanatos's own alarm. (As I mentioned before, it's particularly of interest to note that this is the last time in the series that Xanatos attempts to make his own gargoyles - and after the way that Thailog backfired on him, who can blame him?)

It's great to have the rambles going again, and I'm looking forward to the ones to come.