Your lack of faith disturbs me
Posted 18 July, 2008 byCategories: Science Fiction, Writing
Tags: Star Wars
I probably spend more time thinking about, and modelling, terrain than I do the actual model soldiers. This is because I believe that poorly painted figures on great terrain looks better than beautifully painted figures on crap terrain.
There is a constant battle between specific representations and more abstract models that offer greater chances for modularity and reuse. The first case looks the best, but in reality who can afford to build endless specific pieces that only ever get used once? The answer seems to be modular pieces that are as attractive as possible but still offer the flexibility.
Hexes typically give you a better chance of putting together a board made of many pieces in many different ways. Apparently, or so I had always believed.
Trouble is, hexes are a swine to cut out if you don’t have access to some good tools, or at least access to a flat surface and the ability to create accurate angles. And this is a shame because the Battleboards described in the very old Avalon Hill game, Titan, give a really good practical sized playing surface. Depending on the size of the hex you can play quite a range of skirmish style games. For example, a hex size of 4″ side-to-side would allow you to have up to around 10 28mm models per hex. With 27 hexes, or manoeuvre areas, you have more than enough space to have a good tactical game, on a playing surface the size of a coffee table.
How could this be done without hexes? By making them square, and then offsetting them. Now each square can communicate with six neighbours, just like a hex. And a square is so much easier to make.
This is repeated from http://www.sukottoinc.com/steel_guide.php
I have done this because it answered the main question that I had, having seen swords for sale from a variety of sources recently.
There are many types of steel used in today’s production sword. The most popular is the 10XX series steel. However, 92XX series steel is quickly gaining popularity, creating a buzz due to its resilient but hard nature that is ideal for sword making.
10XX series steel
The 10XX nomenclature of these steels refers to the AISI/SAE designation for metal. The first 2 digits in this series refers to carbon steels with no major alloying agents. The second set of digits (as in a 1060) represents the carbon content of the steel in 1/100 of 1%. As an example, a 1060 designated steel would be a no major alloying carbon steel, with a carbon content of .6%.
It is common to make swords using the 10XX series of steel. Not only is it readily available, the steel itself is a close modern equivalent of the steels that were used in historical Japanese swordsmithing.
The higher the carbon content, the more rigid the crystalline structure that is formed after heat treatment will be. However, there is a tradeoff between hardness and ductility. When the cutting edge of the sword is too brittle, when the steel exceeds its ability to withstand external stress, it tends to shatter, as opposed to bending. This manifests itself in chipped edges, and in order to “fix” the blade, requires polishing in a way to take away material from the cutting edge, in order to make it smooth again. In contrast, a sword with an edge that is not hard enough would roll and dull itself on contact. Ideally, a Japanese sword should be both hard, and ductile.
In general, steels exceeding .9% carbon content (ie 1090 steel) is considered to be too brittle in sword making. Traditional swords ranged from .4% to .8% steel content.
1060 steels offer the best compromise between durability and hardness. When properly heat treated, 1060 steels, with its .6% carbon content, offers a very hard cutting edge, but is still soft enough to absorb the shock and stress forces during use.
Higher end swords, such as Hanwei use 1070 and 1080 steel in their sword production. It offers a highly rigid front end when it is heat treated, and is suitable for high performance cutting. A harder edge when sharpened has a greater ability to cut into material, and still retain its sharpness, while the softer back absorbs shock forces. Because of the slightly more brittle cutting edge, it is recommended for advanced cutters only. However, because of the stiffness, it maintains its cutting geometry even on a bad cut, and continues to cut through a target where as a softer steel would not be able to fully cut through.
9260 Series Steel
9260 spring steel is a new material in use for production swords. This steel also contains a .6% carbon content, but the 92XX series denotes the addition of silicone alloying agent. The benefits of a 2% silicone addition gives the sword a tremendous flex resistance, being able to return to center even after applying a bend of up to 90 degrees. The steel itself does not bend on its own, but rather after the application of a large amount of lateral force. In the dojo setting, this makes the 9260 steel an ideal material for cutting blades as a beater sword, for students to practice on. It is resistance to forces that normally would make a traditional sword bend, yet the cutting edge is still as hard as a full 1060 steel cutting sword.
Because of its properties, it makes it an ideal candidate for making tremendously light swords by utilizing bohi on the blade body, but yet, not reduce significantly its lateral stress resistance. Typically, where a 10XX series sword may increase its lateral load resistance by increasing the thickness of the blade body (i.e. increasing the niku), a 9260 blade body complete with bohi would still offer a significant advantage of fatigue resistance and return itself to the centerline without taking a set. This makes the 9260 steel a very good choice for sword production.
Another benefit to 9260 steel is that when differentially heat treated, it can also produce a very clean natural hamon. Unlike some specialty steels, the hamon is easily visible in proper lighting conditions. This hamon is all natural, and clearly visible, with no need for after production etching.
Names in fantasy and science fiction books and games often make me either chuckle or wince. Many of them are just plain silly. Most of them are derivative and predictable - childish, even. Stupid hyphens and apostrophes all over the place. But what is one to do?
As always. Truth is stranger than fiction.
I was watching the France v Australia Rugby Union match the other night and the endless variety and music in real names impressed me. So this morning I wiki’d many Rugby Union teams, captured the names, ran them through a few transforms in excel to strip out the noise (first names and teams), sorted them, removed duplicates and came up with this list.
This list is the result. a-table-of-surnames Present are North European, Latin, Pacific Island and Japanese names. Sadly lacking are Chinese and Middle Eastern names, but this should not be a surprise given the source material. Apart from the glaringly obvious names, this list confirms my belief that real words, real names, are more variable and wonderful than tongue-torturing made up words.
This list now forms one of the basis for naming objects in my games and books.
A funny thought occured to me as I was constructing a new character in preparation for an upcoming D&D game - the first such game in a very long time.
Role-playing (specifically the first such - D&D) was designed in the States and has had a distinct American character stamped on it. Many different interpretations of the RPG have come out over the decades to present more English or European sensibilities. But at heart it is an American passtime. It is, essentially, an egalitarian art: the notion that YOU can be a hero. Even if you won the meta-lottery of fantasy life and your character was the prince-in-waiting, at a real-life level it was just plain old ordinary you who was vicariously experiencing the adventure. This is an insidious political notion: that the driving spirit behind greatness and adventure could come from anywhere and not from inherited destiny.
That’s heady stuff, but this post is not about that. Instead my thoughts ran something like this:
American ‘fantasy’ or mythology has only a few topics or themes. One of them is the ‘West’. And the notion of the West was shaped to a greater or lesser degree by Spaghetti Western movies. And these in turn were shaped by Samurai movies. Gross oversimplifications I know - but hey, this is my blog, not an academic article.
Now the thing about Samurai movies, and the way we consider Japanese swordplay, was that it was fast and brutal. It was a one-cut affair and whoever did not die first was the winner. The greatest swordsmen were those that could fast draw their katanas and slaughter before their opponents had cleared their sayas. Sound familier with the quick-draw gun play? Is it real? Probably not, but that’s not the point - it is a mythology.
This is in stark contrast with the Chinese style Wu-Shu movies (which admittedly are only very modern in comparison) where the heroes bash away at each other incrementally damaging each other over long periods of time. Even then they often jump up and run away at unfeasible speed after receiving a pummelling that would have crippled any normal ox.
And that’s strange: that American fantasy idolises the Samurai/gunfighter quick kill, yet the American fantasy realisation vehicle for the common man (RPGs, specifically D&D) actually models Chinese attrition fantasy.
Sounds like faults in both the busines requirements gathering phase and in allowing the developers to build to a technical specification constructed in isolation.
My sons asked me about my sword practice the other day. Specifically the difference between European and Japanese swords and, being little boys, which was better.
I told them that the Katana was the king of swords and that the Japanese made the best swords in the world (when the world was making swords). In comparison, the Europeans made better armour. This is a simplistic view. But it was understandable by 10 and 12 year olds.
This kind of thinking does get me wondering. Because at the end of the day, regardless of geography, we humans have the same physical architecture: two hands, two feet, eyes in an exposed head, and so on. So surely combative techniques, quite apart from metalurgic skill, should produce some similarities regardless of what part of the world the technique originated.
The difficulty is in selecting the period of time for the comparison, I think. If you look date for date in the East and the West you can get some quite bizarre results. During the 30 Years War and the English Civil War, for example (1618 - 1648), Europe was busily superceding the sword altogther and developing combined arms doctrine focussed on the gun (the result of which was the development of the Rapier for dueling which has a totally different design criteria than a sword designed for the rigours of pitched battle). In Japan it was a period of stabilisation and suppression of the gun, bringing the sword to an almost fossilised prominence. And sadly this is the time that is most often compared, inappropriately, because the Rapier and the Katana have nothing in common.
During the Eurpoean ‘Dark’ and Medieval periods history records the dominance of the one-handed sword and shield. One-handed fits with China and the Jian, but the shield? Certainly not in Japan.
But in between these times, around 1400 to 1500 or the European high Renaissance, I think there are great similarities. Armour was being reduced or eliminated. Guns were gaining dominance but were still slow to load. The sword in both East and West was still weapon of choice. The fact that none of the European techniques exist outside of manuals, in comparison to several Japanese techniques which have unbroken teaching links to the original, should not fool us into thinking that only the Japanese knew how to use swords and all that happened in the West was thuggish bludgeoning.
So following this thinking I asked, “where in the West are the swords that emphasised the edge over the point, and had two hands on the hilt?”
Claymores, Greatswords and Zweihänder have obvious similarities to Nodachis and it would be astounding if the methods to wield them were much different. But these were unusual, localised, weapons. The Bastard sword is the obvious candidate, but the very hand-and-a-half notion implies a transitional weapon: one that still allows old fashioned shield use.
Then I found it: the Kriegmesser. I have no proof yet, but I reckon that the original training and use of this sword would be recognisable to a practitioner of Japanese swordsmanship.
But as I say, I have no proof. History is largely silent on the Kriegmesser. But the history I can read is in English and English sources are perhaps understandably biased towards English experiences. Perhaps the German sources would tell me more.
Urban design is only one of many pointless interests of mine. I must write up my findings of Soviet urban planning one day. When it comes to imagining car-free cities, or even large space habitats, some understanding of space and design is necessary.
I admit it, I am old fashioned. I remember Imperial measurements. When I was a boy land was measured in acres and I understand this in a visceral way, unlike hectares which I have to think about. I can picture an acre. This has nothing to do with understanding the mathematics and everything to do with default visual models.
Anyway, when I design large structures in my mind I use these old measures and if I have to describe it to someone else I convert it to metric to make it easy for them. My friend Simon, for example, must have everything in metric or refuses to accept the idea. This is not because he fails to understand the mathematics, but because he believes that anything short of the perfect symetry of the metric system is a perversion.
So here is a little ditty from wikipedia that describes my favourite redundant measures: chains and furlongs. Ah, even saying the names gives me a warm nostalgic feeling inside.
The name furlong derives from the Old English words furh (furrow) and lang (long). Dating back at least to the ninth century, it originally referred to the length of the furrow in one acre of a ploughed open field (a medieval communal field which was divided into strips). The system of long furrows arose because turning a team of oxen pulling a heavy plough was difficult. This offset the drainage advantages of short furrows and meant furrows were made as long as possible. An acre is an area that is one furlong long and one chain (22 yards) wide. For this reason, the furlong was once also called an acre’s length, though of course in modern usage an area of one acre can be any shape.
The furlong was historically viewed as equivalent to the Roman stade (stadium), which in turn derived from the Greek system. For example the King James bible will use the term “furlong” in place of the Greek “stadion”, whereas modern translations will translate into miles in the main text and relate the original numbers in footnotes.
In the Roman system, there were 625 feet to the stade, eight stade to the mile, and three miles to the league. A league was considered to be the distance a man could walk in one hour, and the mile consisted of 1000 passus (5 feet, or double-step).
After the fall of Rome, Medieval Europe continued with the Roman system, which proceeded to “diversify” leading to serious complications in trade, taxation, etc. Around the turn of the century of 1300, England by decree standardized a long list of measures. Among the important units of distance and length at the time were foot, yard, rod, furlong and mile. The rod was 5½ yards or 16½ feet (= 3 feet/yard × 5½ yards), and the mile was 8 furlongs, so the definition of the furlong became 40 rods and that of the mile became 5280 feet (= 8 furlongs × 40 rods/furlong × 16½ feet/rod ).
The official use of furlong was abolished in the United Kingdom under the Weights and Measures Act of 1985, which also abolished from official use many other traditional units of measurement.
The Lilly & Jamaica stories are for the Young Adult market. As such we can deal with more interesting story lines and themes. It is probably best to preserve a simple three act structure, however. Also, small chapters and reasonably condensed sized overall is preferable.
At this stage the design principles are as follows:
Form follows function. This is true in evolution of biological life, and it is obviously also true in the planned evolution of technology. Machines that have poor ergonomics, or are inefficient in their design are not replicated in the market. Ineffective designs remain on the shelf and are subsequently removed from the manufacturers’ lists.
The key to understanding why a machine has a given form is to understand what the machine was designed to do and how it was supposed to achieve it. For example, a bulldozer is heavy to avoid being displaced by the material it is designed to move. It has tracks rather than wheels because this disperses the weight more evenly, gives a more stable footprint and allows movement over a greater range of terrains. It is not any number of other things that may be cool but do not fulfill its function.
In a more complicated example, one might say that many of today’s machines are ineffective because they break so easily after their first use. But a closer look at the design principles behind them may reveal that they are perfect for what was intended - if indeed it was intentional that they break (in order to make the consumer purchase more).
So there are more than just the obvious criteria upon which one might judge function.
Beguilons are diminuitive bad tempered robots hell-bent on ‘improving’ the processes and functions of other machines and organisations. They communicate through poorly amplified volalisers and hard to self-access ticker-tape readouts. They are armed with low-powered discombobulators which they discharge without much provocation.
What was the genesis of the Beguilon species? These images show perhaps early models in the process of infiltrating human domestic environments.
Ideas for book 3, The Kyoto Files.
Lilly (or Jamaica) ponders by a goldfish pond, spear in hand, after suffering defeat in practice combat. As lightening crashes overhead, she sees the jagged flashes as a reflection in the water. The bolts super-impose themselves on the spear and form the image of a cross-piece. This gives her the idea of adding a cross-piece to her spear, and this gives her a combat advantage on the following day.
This is an example of the flash of inspiration so often referred to in the advanced schools of Japanese martial arts. This particular story somes from the Hozoin Ryu, a spear school founded by a Buddhist sect.