Blazer-Sharp, Prattle-Ready, Brainless Steel Samurai Banana

Me, commenting a while ago on someone's post on Mastodon:

now i want to write up a setting where everyone's nomadic and the only borders are natural or seasonal

Some very basic ideas...

The relevant places:
The Mountains
The Hills
The Lakes
The River
The Marshes
The Sea

(yes i know what this looks like, oh well "write what you know")

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall

1. Sea, Mountains, Mountains, River - they love cold
2. River, Lakes, Hills, Sea - they eat lots of fish
3. Marshes, Sea, Hills, River - they dig
4. Sea, River, Lakes, River - they live in boats

1 and 2 meet in late fall to mingle and trade, and intermarry frequently
3 and 4 meet in early spring and ritually forgive each other for what they do to each other in the fall
2 and 3 often have ad hoc "border" disputes but also rely on each other for things they aren't usually specialized to obtain themselves
1 raids 3 and 4 in the fall and gets away with it by pitting them against each other
1 and 4 rarely interact in winter since 4 is usually far equator-wards
2 and 4 might once have been the same people but one of them thinks sbubuu is an extension of uuquru while the other thinks sbubuu/khwophong is an independent existence that lives in harmonious reflection of uuquru/okangoro

Velexiraptor posted a brief reflection on what a "magic" system should do in a game.

In another thread of hers I had half-jokingly made a comment along the lines of ~I'd rather we had the opposite [of making martial classes function with moves in a similar manner to spellcasters], just give the scene some hitpoints and if you magic it hard enough with a big enough wand it changes~.

Meanwhile, my primary model for doing anything remotely like this, Mage: the Ascension, I mostly remember as being literally unplayable since I just ended up constantly second-guessing and self-censoring as to what I could or could not do given this sphere and that effect and where was all this mass and energy coming from and if I could make a grain of sand appear where previously there wasn't one could I also make that same raw energy and level the entire city block etc. etc. etc. - in other words not very good guidance as to objective checks and balances.

So here are some notes on what those checks and balances might look like:( Read more... )

Obviously this is incomplete and cannot be played on its own - it's meant at this time to be no more than a conceptual framework. Felt cute, might delete later and whatnot.

For the past couple years I've liked Jordan Peterson, or at least tried to like him for my godmother's sake.

For instance, this is one of the things I consider to be him at his best:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f-wWBGo6a2w
He still does frame much of this around his specific political agenda, but there is far more meat to it that he (or anyone) can only show when not under fire.

The portion of that meat that is not illusory might not be enough.

( Read more... )

In conclusion, at this point it seems best to simply treat Prof. Peterson's public works as invisible - neither believe nor disbelieve anything on his authority or lack thereof. If I ever do cite him in the future, I should do so only provided that I articulate in full, explicitly, independently, the reasoning that leads to the conclusion being argued. I'm not sure why I would do that, except in a "even this guy you're such a huge fan of is saying this" context or maybe to debunk some of the shriller haters lest they make fools of themselves attacking straw men.

Cost of precaution: 100
Cost of verification: 101

Doing the precaution indiscriminately: 100

Verify, precaution needed: 201 (more than twice as inefficient)
Verify, precaution NOT needed: 101 (still less efficient)
Verify, error in verification, precaution not needed but done anyway: 201 + cost of embarrassment of failure (including loss of goodwill+trust of client or other party)
Verify, error in verification, precaution needed but not done: 101 + cost of whatever clusterfuck the precaution was designed to avoid

Factors to consider:
V Cost of verification
P Cost of precaution
N Chance that the precaution is needed
F Cost of failure of precaution when needed

If F itself implies ruin, then always go with the precaution and no other calculations matter: ignore the below.
The average cost of failure is F/N.
Our main 3 factors are then P, V and F/N.
If P is the smallest, then always go with the precaution.
If F/N is the smallest, then never go with the precaution.
It is only worth verifying if V is the smallest.

In this we are assuming:
This situation will play out enough times that F/N is meaningful.
Verification is not infallible.
When we say "smallest", the margin by which it is smallest exceeds the chance of the verification giving false comfort.

Of course, usually the work in doing the verification right significantly overlaps with the precaution itself (and sometimes the precaution is verifying something), minimizing the savings and leaving the temptation being to either say "fuck it" and skip both or doing a sloppy verification and increasing the risk of error.

This started off as a comment to the discussion here, but it both grew and degenerated into its own thing. Hopefully a bit more coherent than my last meditation on this.

With respect to the contrast between the perspective in Byzantine icons (and even most medieval art) versus the "realistic" style of post-Renaissance work, one thing that always strikes me is how much the former resembles the perspective in video games before 3D "photo"-realism became the norm.

For a particularly striking example: doorways in tile-based or isometric CRPGs (scroll down to "Chestyrre approaches a house to the south" and the second screenshot after that) and the door leading out to the world at the bottom of the Pentecost icon. The fact that even current games show a need to go "back" to this portrayal underscores the point about different needs.

(Also this icon of the Fall reminds me of the style of the Golden Axe games, but the latter is more of a technical limitation than a design decision, so not quite as good an example even if in my view more visually striking.)

This excellent discussion shows how much even "photo"-realistic depictions, literally mathematically perfect by Renaissance perspective rules (an unaided computer cannot do otherwise), need to be tweaked and adjusted to begin to function in a way that allows the most basic interactions one might expect in real life. Of note: a personal face-to-face interaction is the most difficult; violent games routinely render the player's own weapon (i.e., the player's primary means of participation) with a different perspective. And, of course, the first comment about monitor size and distance - which is entirely applicable to icons. And, of course, the way the person's face changes with the different FOV.

And, of course, actual photography requires a great deal of preparation and overhead before the machine you're using can reasonably approximate what you see.

So with all that in mind I can think of two main ways in which this manner of perspective works:

First, by drawing emphasis on what actually is necessary to depict, without cutting them off unrecognizably, obscuring other elements or requiring a great deal of irrelevant white space. (Consider, for instance, how tiny Jesus would be on your typical Transfiguration or Anastasis icon if rendered with modern perspective rules!)

Second, of which the first may be a subset, is the proper positioning of each element so that the player viewer might interact comfortably with it.

I write this with one specific example in mind: the Theotokos icon on the iconostasis in our church, which is based on this one (top row, second from the right). The ordinary manner of venerating this icon is to bow before it and kiss the Mother of God's right hand, as one might a priest in receiving a blessing. (Christ's feet are also kissed but that is another matter.) Her hand, however, is ostensibly also supporting Christ's weight; she'd have to move it and adjust Him for this purpose. The priest can simply swap hands; the icon cannot be animated to show the Theotokos doing this. (We might be able to do it now but the result would start dipping into the uncanny valley.)

This leaves us 3 options:

1. Theotokos holding Christ in her left hand, stuck in a "kiss the ring" pose. Very effective for this 5-second exchange and nothing else (i.e., the rest of the 0.5-2+ hours that you're in there facing the icon).


2. Theotokos holding Christ in her right hand, Renaissance perspective. You venerate Mary, bend awkwardly and kiss Christ's arse. Humbling, maybe, but inappropriate (and not in a good way).


3. The in-between perspective we actually see on the icon so venerated.

This may be related to the (relative!) lack of statuary: this sort of trick simply does not work with a 3D model. Another trick: a picture of someone looking at you always looks like it's looking at you except at the most oblique angles, but a lone statue looking at what is in front of it is more often than not staring into nothing in particular (which at best makes the depicted seem remote and distant, at worst evokes Psalm 135:16).

Unrelated to perspective but related to design, one thing that always strikes me about the labels on icons is how difficult they are to read - even the ones in English are heavily stylized, longer words broken up and longer phrases mashed together in very reader-unfriendly ways, to the point of not being immediately recognizable as text, or at least text in one's own vernacular. This, I have come to believe, if it weren't deliberate before, is a bug-become-feature: we don't want to be reading any text without conscious effort - the immediately obvious focus should be the image of the person represented.

I'm sure there are other more concrete examples, but nothing in particular springs to mind now.

(And I don't think I'll really "get" anytime soon those icons that (trigger warning: literal graven image) are embossed shiny metal everywhere except a little window through which is a painting of the person's face.)

The current setting, predating my conversion to Christianity, held that necromancers could freely enter and leave Hell with their magic. What they could do there or take back was a matter of sophistication and understanding and strength of will. Each necromancer's view of Hell would be unique: Sam has her snowscape, others might see a world of lava and ash, others might find themselves adrift in an endless, lifeless, sunless sea.

Now, unless we simply posit that the setting is in such a totally different universe that life and death don't work the way they do here, as well as abandon all plotlines involving the nascent cult of the Lord of Being, we need to tweak this. [2015-11-18 And, of course, it turns out Civil Deism posits reincarnation so the hades theory wouldn't really be part of Sam's repertoire anyway...]

We can keep everything, but as a layer: the hellscape is not actually true, or at least what the necromancer sees is not actually hell/hades. The "hellscape" would actually be a magical construct formed by the necromancer and the spirits they deal with. What the necromancer believes to represent the souls of the dead is actually a vast cosmic spirit-memory the deceased have left in the world by their words, deeds and thoughts - in this world, momentarily made visible and tangible. The necromancer never actually leaves this world, which is why it is so easy to come and go. The true Person of the deceased is never interacted with in this construct, though much information may be gleaned, sometimes to the point where you think you are dealing with the person themselves. For pure information-gathering purposes, and depending on the quality of the memory, it can be virtually equivalent - like a fossil wherein the entire impression has been filled with rock and none of the organic matter remains.

To talk to a "spirit" in this place would be to gather together an impression that then coalesces into its memory, aided by the speaker's own pareidola if not even actual (non-human) spirits "guiding" the process.

Much more chaotic, uncontrollable visits to this underworld may occur during teleport accidents.

Pure elemental magic is powered by the energy released through the annihilation of these patterns. Where mana is heavily mined, there is an ineffable deadness in the air that everyone feels but no one understands how to measure and some insist, with experimental supporting evidence (which experimenters often get money from the same firms the insisters work for, but let's nevermind that), that it's all in people's heads, or it's just an aesthetic negative reaction to the appearance and sound of the machines.

...so yeah, metaphysical fossil fuel economy. But with malaise, ennui and possible perceived or actual de-existing instead of toxic smoke and global warming. And no plastic from byproducts.

I'll have to think of the geopolitical consequences of this.

First, Fr. Stephen's post about something not directly related to stories* at all (though, of course, all things are at least indirectly related to stories*):
http://blogs.ancientfaith.com/glory2godforallthings/2015/10/19/excuse-me-you-are-not-rational/
Someone commented with a recommendation for John C. Wright,** which led me to this blog post:
http://www.scifiwright.com/2015/10/my-elves-are-different-or-erlkoenig-and-appendix-n/
Meanwhile, Fr. Stephen posts the following:
http://blogs.ancientfaith.com/glory2godforallthings/2015/10/28/about-fairy-tales/

Characters in good stories (particularly good children’s stories) are more than simple individuals with complex and unpredictable behavior. Such individuals would be of no more use in training a child, than reciting random numbers is for teaching math. What we want in a character, is, well character. We need them to be a certain kind of person (or dragon, etc.). People, including children, make sense of the world through the stories they know. Children without stories are forced to stumble through the world without a clue.

The underlined portion describes the modern approach to fiction we are all too familiar with. It speaks well of us that most of us fail miserably. (I am thinking particularly of the anti-Mary-Sue pontifications that I'm sure anyone reading this already knows - which tend, if followed literally, to produce characters as described in the underlined portion.)

In the comments, someone comments with a link to this:
http://www.ancientfaith.com/specials/orthodox_institute_2012_culture_morality_spirituality/dr._vigen_guroian_the_childs_moral_imagination
Which includes an excellent example*** of how to write fiction in imitation of Scripture. (Dr. Guroian didn't have time to mention Psalm 68(67):23; there's bound to be other stuff in there.)

The above led me to read the following two book synopses, listed in the order I read them. One left me feeling nothing; the other had me immediately searching for a copy.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glory_Season
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bambi,_a_Life_in_the_Woods
The former tries to stand for so much, but nothing in the story does so - it's just a bunch of stuff that happens. In contrast, every moment in Bambi is fat and heavy with meaning just being there. (Interestingly, the Bambi synopsis has no separate "Major themes" section; such things are irresistibly inferred through both the plot and the book's reception.)

And now for something completely different:
http://www.webscription.net/chapters/1439132852/1439132852.htm
Basically the literary equivalent of playing an FPS.** *****


*I had typed "fiction writing" and then moved on, then came back to add the parenthetical thinking I had typed "stories", then corrected what I previously typed accordingly. Maybe that's the problem: we're (I'm) not even trying to write stories anymore.

**Yes, I am aware of both these authors' involvement with certain recent controversies. I do not make this post with the intent to endorse their positions on such matters and I am endorsing their work inasmuch that I am willing to read past their real and perceived flaws, as one must always do when reading anyone.****

***In other news, misleading description of the day: Cinderella: a young girl uses her mad freerunning skills and commands an army of dinosaurs to secure her reign as queen and execute vengeance upon her enemies.

****Re: flaws, more Wright than Correia. The latter's explanation of the Sad Puppies movement makes a lot more sense than what (admittedly little, but Correia describes it accurately) I'd been reading before getting his side of it. The former's explanation of his stance re: enemies, taken at its best, is indistinguishable from a pagan perspective despite the claims to Christianity, and the best thing I got out of it was the realization that Christ's admonition to Peter about swords could also be read as a prophecy about what would happen with the Western Church over a thousand years later.


*****2015-11-01 19:14 EDIT:
But we have to be taken back to when Parker was fourteen years of age to fully understand what moves him throughout the story. In that year, at the fair, Parker set his eyes on a tattooed man whose entire body, from head to foot, was covered with images. O’Connor writes: “Until he saw the man at the fair, it did not enter his head that there was anything out of the ordinary about the fact that he existed.”
[static]
I was able to finally see the Guardian. He was a giant of a man. Every inch of his skin had been covered in strange tattoos. The ink lines moved like living things. He looked right at me across space and time.
[static]
...a perfect arabesque of colors... (this song was one of the first that had randomly come up as I read the essay)

A co-operative board game similar to "Sorry!" or snakes-and-ladders but where the goal is to endure as long as possible. Mostly inspired by Killing Floor.

( I should probably rename my RPG tag... )

Suppose you had a red circle and a blue circle of equal size.

Then shortly after the circles are taken away and you see what looks like a dark purple circle, the same size as the first two.

It is labeled "woog".

There are 3 interpretations of what woog means:

1. A third circle that is dark purple in colour, made from the original two circles.
2. A third circle that contains both the original two circles.

Now you have some people who insist that what we're seeing is
3. The original two circles overlapping each other.

These people never, ever use the word "woog" to describe it.

( Each group thinks the following: )

Without reading the cut text if possible, does the second interpretation mean the same thing as the third, and, assuming you can't move any of the circles or look at them from the side or otherwise measure depth, how would you be able to prove it either way?