It's been a turbulent couple of weeks. First of all, my brother and sister-in-law came up, and we went out to play with birds again:
Which was really fun.
As for the writing, well there's a story. One of the things you're told never to do is put a story/novel/whatever down, because it's difficult to pick back up again. And there's a certain amount of truth to that. My current novel has been put down and picked back up a couple of times. Last week, I got wind of a very attractive anthology, and I had a good idea. Unfortunately, the idea does not work within the tmeframe of the anthology.
Which leaves me with a dilemna. Do I want to try another story (I've already got an idea) or do I want to go back to the novel?
The problem with going back to the novel is that it scares me. I'm almost done, at which point I'll have to revise my previous novel, and start on my next one. And begin looking at publication options (you know, that stuff from my last post). And yeah, I've got that feeling in my stomach, that I'm once again stepping into unknown territory, and I don't want to do the wrong thing.
The funny thing is that I didn't feel this nervous, or I don't remember feeling this nervous, last time I finished a novel. But it might have been that I had less expereince with trying to get a novel published, or that publishing wasn't in quite so much turmoil.
And I don't blog well when I'm all confused about stuff. Sorry. But hey, NECON at the end of the week. I'm hoping for some good advice.
Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts
Monday, July 16, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
The Learning Curve...
It's a known fact that the Sopwith Camel killed more pilots in trainng than were shot down flying it. And I've just spend an hour and a half training to learn a tempermental, difficult-to-fly biplane. And this is what is referred to as a steep learning curve. NO, I didn't crash these planes deliberately for the picture. YES, I'm still playing on novice.
Failure to pull up after a strafing run.
Thwacking a tree during a low-level strafe.
What happens when I fail to gain altitude during take off.
What it looked like inside the cockpit about half a second before...
I concentrated too much on the target, not enough on my altitude.
This is what happens when I overconpensate for the engine's radial precession.
For this one, I tried to take off before I really had enough speed for sufficient lift.
Failure to gain altitude over hangar.
Rocking the plane too much on take off damages the wings.
Target Destroyed! But it turns out I have difficulty recovering the plane if I'm ground-strafing from ground level.
Failure to pull up after a strafing run.
Thwacking a tree during a low-level strafe.
What happens when I fail to gain altitude during take off.
What it looked like inside the cockpit about half a second before...
I concentrated too much on the target, not enough on my altitude.
This is what happens when I overconpensate for the engine's radial precession.
For this one, I tried to take off before I really had enough speed for sufficient lift.
Failure to gain altitude over hangar.
Rocking the plane too much on take off damages the wings.
Target Destroyed! But it turns out I have difficulty recovering the plane if I'm ground-strafing from ground level.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Confessing Another Obsession
I've shared, or perhaps inflicted a number of my obsessions on this blog: Godzilla, Lovecraft, Ancient Egypt, necromancy, The Tomb of Horrors. These are the subjects that I return to again and again. I'm not sure why. I think everyone has these odd little things that they just like for reasons that are buried deep in their psyche.
If you've read my fiction, you'll notice that I have a thing for WWI flight. Open-cockpit flying, the time part of the danger of flight was that your plane might shed its wings. Biplane flight is beautiful. It doesn't isolate you from the fact that you're flying. I don't know where I picked up this particular twist in my psyche, but I've taken several rides in airplanes older than my parents, and loved each one. But that's expensive and inconvenient. When I want to get that feel of flight, I turn to WWI flight sims.
I'm lucky in my obsessions. They're pretty obscure. Whereas there will be several WWII or jet flight sims or games put out in a year, dedicated WWI flight sims tend to be few and far between. Because I obsess about this sort of stuff, I collect them. Old WWI flight sims, new WWI flight sims, the different editions of the same flight sim. I love cataloging them, writing about their differences, analyzing the way the genre has developed and changed.
I was, for example, ecstatic when, in 2005, Atari released their early arcade games on PC. At last, I could play the original Red Baron again!
At the same time, I'm keeping up with the most recent WWI flight sims, such as 777 Studio's Rise of Flight, which is quite astonishing in its detail.
There have been a large number of these sims since 1981. I count about 70. Luckily, a lot of them are out of print or were unpopular, so for less than $20, I can acquire an older piece of software with what are often some very nice manuals. With DOSBOX, I can now play the majority of these. For example, I've acquired Cosmi's War Eagles, which is just about the oldest WWI game I can find for the PC. It came on a 5.25 inch diskette. Remember those?
The internet, especially Ebay and Amazon, have been extremely helpful in discovering and locating these older games, especially the really weird and obscure titles like Manfred von Krashenbern’s Flying Circus. And it's really a chuckle to watch these bundles of polygons that the brain somehow translates into flying planes.
Everybody has their little quirks, and this is one of my perennials. Sometimes, I won't touch a flight sim for a year, but I've always come back to them. And I love them all, from the prmitive to the goofy (Red Baron Pizza included a free flight sim in some of their pizzas in 2004. It's hilarious!) to the unforgiving modern sim.
If you've read my fiction, you'll notice that I have a thing for WWI flight. Open-cockpit flying, the time part of the danger of flight was that your plane might shed its wings. Biplane flight is beautiful. It doesn't isolate you from the fact that you're flying. I don't know where I picked up this particular twist in my psyche, but I've taken several rides in airplanes older than my parents, and loved each one. But that's expensive and inconvenient. When I want to get that feel of flight, I turn to WWI flight sims.
I'm lucky in my obsessions. They're pretty obscure. Whereas there will be several WWII or jet flight sims or games put out in a year, dedicated WWI flight sims tend to be few and far between. Because I obsess about this sort of stuff, I collect them. Old WWI flight sims, new WWI flight sims, the different editions of the same flight sim. I love cataloging them, writing about their differences, analyzing the way the genre has developed and changed.
I was, for example, ecstatic when, in 2005, Atari released their early arcade games on PC. At last, I could play the original Red Baron again!
At the same time, I'm keeping up with the most recent WWI flight sims, such as 777 Studio's Rise of Flight, which is quite astonishing in its detail.
There have been a large number of these sims since 1981. I count about 70. Luckily, a lot of them are out of print or were unpopular, so for less than $20, I can acquire an older piece of software with what are often some very nice manuals. With DOSBOX, I can now play the majority of these. For example, I've acquired Cosmi's War Eagles, which is just about the oldest WWI game I can find for the PC. It came on a 5.25 inch diskette. Remember those?
The internet, especially Ebay and Amazon, have been extremely helpful in discovering and locating these older games, especially the really weird and obscure titles like Manfred von Krashenbern’s Flying Circus. And it's really a chuckle to watch these bundles of polygons that the brain somehow translates into flying planes.
Everybody has their little quirks, and this is one of my perennials. Sometimes, I won't touch a flight sim for a year, but I've always come back to them. And I love them all, from the prmitive to the goofy (Red Baron Pizza included a free flight sim in some of their pizzas in 2004. It's hilarious!) to the unforgiving modern sim.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Message Received by Battle Barge Glad of War, in service of the Rune Bearers chapter of the Adeptus Astartes;
My Lord Grettir;
Since my last missive, Splinter Fleet Mordiggian, once considered a small and worthy of little notice, has shown a cancerous growth, and many of the more frightening genus of Tyranid have spontaneously arisen within its ranks.
Thanks to Inquisitor Kryptmann’s gambit, this Splinter Fleet spends much of its time combating the Orks. Many clashes have been witness by out remote seers, and with the preponderance of the genestealer genus. While I do not favor either side, for both are xeno abominations which must be purged from the galaxy, it is frightening to report that many Orks have fallen to the genestealers claws, and that this causes me to worry that about wisdom of Kryptmann. If this splinter fleet unlocks the secrets of Ork fury or adds the Orks’ instinctive craftiness to the Tyranids already formidable combat arsenal, I fear for the existence of the Imperium, especially as the splinter fleet has begun the process of autologous diversification, as seen on the Anphelion base. A trygon has emerged where there was none before, as have tervigon specimens, which would account for the rapid increase in the number of termagants that the splinter fleet is able to bring to bear.
More disturbing it the emergence of Mordiggian’s first Hive Tyrant, seen here with a tyrant guard and zoanthrope just before it destroyed a large number of Ork nob bikers. The terrified astropath that viewed the emergence of the tyranid monstrosity died of fright after transmitting this picture. The terror and destruction that this horror brings with it cannot be underestimated.
The greatest setback experienced by Mordiggian was an encounter with the Blood Angels, seen here as a brood of zoanthropes attempt to conceal themselves from the Blood Angel Thunderhawk under the strange and undoubtedly warp-tainted skies of skies of Stromsholt. Though defeated, the splinter fleet was not exterminated, and the menace has emerged again, like a disease or destructive weed, from another quarter.
Most recently, the splinter fleet has been seen to use mycetic spores, living meteors which, once grounded, pour forth countless termagants, which in turn pour death into an unidentified Space Marine chapter seen here.
This hive grows at a frightening rate, and I have no wish to be present if it turns its attentions to Eorthscraef, or any of our sector. Once again I humbly beg that the Rune Bearers dispatch a contingent of their extraordinary warriors to exterminate this peril before the lives of more Imperial citizens are endangered, their property destroyed, and their usefulness to the Emperor crippled or eliminated altogether. We shall, of course, defer to whatever judgement your worthiness decrees.
May the Holy Emperor guide your hand in delivering us from this frightful menace,
Johann of Eorthscraef
Since my last missive, Splinter Fleet Mordiggian, once considered a small and worthy of little notice, has shown a cancerous growth, and many of the more frightening genus of Tyranid have spontaneously arisen within its ranks.
Thanks to Inquisitor Kryptmann’s gambit, this Splinter Fleet spends much of its time combating the Orks. Many clashes have been witness by out remote seers, and with the preponderance of the genestealer genus. While I do not favor either side, for both are xeno abominations which must be purged from the galaxy, it is frightening to report that many Orks have fallen to the genestealers claws, and that this causes me to worry that about wisdom of Kryptmann. If this splinter fleet unlocks the secrets of Ork fury or adds the Orks’ instinctive craftiness to the Tyranids already formidable combat arsenal, I fear for the existence of the Imperium, especially as the splinter fleet has begun the process of autologous diversification, as seen on the Anphelion base. A trygon has emerged where there was none before, as have tervigon specimens, which would account for the rapid increase in the number of termagants that the splinter fleet is able to bring to bear.
More disturbing it the emergence of Mordiggian’s first Hive Tyrant, seen here with a tyrant guard and zoanthrope just before it destroyed a large number of Ork nob bikers. The terrified astropath that viewed the emergence of the tyranid monstrosity died of fright after transmitting this picture. The terror and destruction that this horror brings with it cannot be underestimated.
The greatest setback experienced by Mordiggian was an encounter with the Blood Angels, seen here as a brood of zoanthropes attempt to conceal themselves from the Blood Angel Thunderhawk under the strange and undoubtedly warp-tainted skies of skies of Stromsholt. Though defeated, the splinter fleet was not exterminated, and the menace has emerged again, like a disease or destructive weed, from another quarter.
Most recently, the splinter fleet has been seen to use mycetic spores, living meteors which, once grounded, pour forth countless termagants, which in turn pour death into an unidentified Space Marine chapter seen here.
This hive grows at a frightening rate, and I have no wish to be present if it turns its attentions to Eorthscraef, or any of our sector. Once again I humbly beg that the Rune Bearers dispatch a contingent of their extraordinary warriors to exterminate this peril before the lives of more Imperial citizens are endangered, their property destroyed, and their usefulness to the Emperor crippled or eliminated altogether. We shall, of course, defer to whatever judgement your worthiness decrees.
May the Holy Emperor guide your hand in delivering us from this frightful menace,
Johann of Eorthscraef
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Splinter Fleet Mordiggian for Battlefleet Gothic
Dodging classes and work, I've managed to collect and paint up an acceptable fleet, although several of the escorts still need painting. I've got a thousand point, sixteen-model list... but I was painting first and adding up the points later.
This is Splinter Fleet Mordggian, as it currently stands. One official Hive Ship. The snail-like ships are Phalons from Ground Zero Games' Full Thrust. I like the Phalon models a great deal, the battleships make excellent capital ships and the smaller scouts are good drones. Top left is a Shadow Scout with the tentacles put on backwards. I thought it came out kind of cool.
On the right is a a Phalon Mothership. The shells have these wonderful swooping patterns on them, and it was worth the extra painting time to emphasize them. On the left is a Phalon Corvette, which will be an escort drone. The middle is a little guy I found from Reaper Minis: the Rift Blights, which are ridiculously cool as tentacle drones. They come in two flavors: Spaghetti, and Spaghetti with Meat (pictured). There will be more on these guys later
A Phalon Battleship on the right, and I'm fairly pleased with the way the pattern on the shell came out. To the left is another Rift Blight. These guys painted up very nicely, although I'm not a particularly good photographer. In the back is that Shadow Scout.
Three Phalon cruisers (left and right are heavies, a battlecruiser in the center) that are going to substitute for torpedo Kraken. I think the camera focused on the hive ship's tentacles, instead of the other ships.
This is the best picture I made. It's a Rift Blight from Reaper Minis, and it's such an awesome model. The tentacles have teeth on them, which you can actually see in this picture.
The "Spaghetti with Meat" Rift Blight. It's a got a huge, exposed brain, but also the same sort of thorny tentacles. These guys are going to look great chowing down on Imperial ships.
Next I have some larger ships to build. The Phalon Carrier is just about the size of the Tyranid Hive Ship, and my next figure is going to be a Goroloth Drone, which is about the same size. The larger Goroloth mini, as yet unacquired, is between an quarter and a third larger than that. My big guy, however, is going to be the monstrous Armorcast Kraken, which will dwarf both of these.
This is Splinter Fleet Mordggian, as it currently stands. One official Hive Ship. The snail-like ships are Phalons from Ground Zero Games' Full Thrust. I like the Phalon models a great deal, the battleships make excellent capital ships and the smaller scouts are good drones. Top left is a Shadow Scout with the tentacles put on backwards. I thought it came out kind of cool.
On the right is a a Phalon Mothership. The shells have these wonderful swooping patterns on them, and it was worth the extra painting time to emphasize them. On the left is a Phalon Corvette, which will be an escort drone. The middle is a little guy I found from Reaper Minis: the Rift Blights, which are ridiculously cool as tentacle drones. They come in two flavors: Spaghetti, and Spaghetti with Meat (pictured). There will be more on these guys later
A Phalon Battleship on the right, and I'm fairly pleased with the way the pattern on the shell came out. To the left is another Rift Blight. These guys painted up very nicely, although I'm not a particularly good photographer. In the back is that Shadow Scout.
Three Phalon cruisers (left and right are heavies, a battlecruiser in the center) that are going to substitute for torpedo Kraken. I think the camera focused on the hive ship's tentacles, instead of the other ships.
This is the best picture I made. It's a Rift Blight from Reaper Minis, and it's such an awesome model. The tentacles have teeth on them, which you can actually see in this picture.
The "Spaghetti with Meat" Rift Blight. It's a got a huge, exposed brain, but also the same sort of thorny tentacles. These guys are going to look great chowing down on Imperial ships.
Next I have some larger ships to build. The Phalon Carrier is just about the size of the Tyranid Hive Ship, and my next figure is going to be a Goroloth Drone, which is about the same size. The larger Goroloth mini, as yet unacquired, is between an quarter and a third larger than that. My big guy, however, is going to be the monstrous Armorcast Kraken, which will dwarf both of these.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
I think I Needed a Little Time Off...
I still do. The school semester's over, and I've got to test out of something to get a class I've already taken (don't ask). I'm working more, and I have less time to write than I want because it's Spring, and in the Spring I get all ambitious and want to actually go do things.
Last night, for example, we went out to see a movie for the first time in months. We don't go out to the movies much. There's a lot of crap being produced. As a friend said, Hollywood has the reverse of the usual business model. You can see the good parts of a movie for free in the trailer, but you have to pay to see the crap.
Part of a movie's charm is the ambiance in which you see it. For this reason, and because we were hopeful but not expecting greatness, we went to the drive-in.
Mostly there for Thor, which could easily have been an enormous disaster, and Rango, which was only of vague interest.
But hey, Hathaway's drive-in! I've blogged about it before, but this time, I brought the camera. It was a mild Spring day, the sunset was lovely, and the bugs were outside the car. You kind of bring your own environment when you see a movie from the comfort of your own car. Families were there, and kids were throwing a ball around before the show. It was just that sort of bucolic, rural scene that does happen every now and then, not just in peoples' nostalgic biographies.
We used our radio for sound this time, and it sounded a lot better than using the provided speaker. We also visited the snack bar for tasty local burgers, pretty good fries (they provide vinegar for those of us who like them that way) and surprisingly tasty popcorn.
An enjoyable way to watch a couple of films. It's not really the way to watch a film you really want to pay attention to, because there's people walking around, drivers entering and exiting, and overall a fair mount of distractions. But the average film doesn't require you to pay attention to every frame, so it's fine. I will want to pay attention to every frame of On Stranger Tides, so I'll be seeing it in a more traditional theater. But I'm hoping we'll catch another double-feature before it closes for the winter.
Oh,the movie? Kim Newman was right, and Thor was well done especially considering the comic. The perfect drive-in film. Entertaining, pretty to look at (that the costume designer managed to turn Kirby's designs into wearable clothing is Oscar-worthy), with just the right amount of things blowing up. Rango was an amiable film, neither knocking my socks off nor wasting my time.
Last night, for example, we went out to see a movie for the first time in months. We don't go out to the movies much. There's a lot of crap being produced. As a friend said, Hollywood has the reverse of the usual business model. You can see the good parts of a movie for free in the trailer, but you have to pay to see the crap.
Part of a movie's charm is the ambiance in which you see it. For this reason, and because we were hopeful but not expecting greatness, we went to the drive-in.
Mostly there for Thor, which could easily have been an enormous disaster, and Rango, which was only of vague interest.
But hey, Hathaway's drive-in! I've blogged about it before, but this time, I brought the camera. It was a mild Spring day, the sunset was lovely, and the bugs were outside the car. You kind of bring your own environment when you see a movie from the comfort of your own car. Families were there, and kids were throwing a ball around before the show. It was just that sort of bucolic, rural scene that does happen every now and then, not just in peoples' nostalgic biographies.
We used our radio for sound this time, and it sounded a lot better than using the provided speaker. We also visited the snack bar for tasty local burgers, pretty good fries (they provide vinegar for those of us who like them that way) and surprisingly tasty popcorn.
An enjoyable way to watch a couple of films. It's not really the way to watch a film you really want to pay attention to, because there's people walking around, drivers entering and exiting, and overall a fair mount of distractions. But the average film doesn't require you to pay attention to every frame, so it's fine. I will want to pay attention to every frame of On Stranger Tides, so I'll be seeing it in a more traditional theater. But I'm hoping we'll catch another double-feature before it closes for the winter.
Oh,the movie? Kim Newman was right, and Thor was well done especially considering the comic. The perfect drive-in film. Entertaining, pretty to look at (that the costume designer managed to turn Kirby's designs into wearable clothing is Oscar-worthy), with just the right amount of things blowing up. Rango was an amiable film, neither knocking my socks off nor wasting my time.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
I Played with Birds on My Staycation
The Santa Fe Good Taste Factory was in the area, so he decided to spend a few days with us. Which is awesome. He is always fun to be with, and when someone visits, I usually look around and find something interesting and local to do. This time, I asked if he was interested in taking a lesson at the local branch of the British School of Falconry.
And he said yes.
So there we were, 11AM, scrungy as we usually are, walking up to this nice little barn. A very nice guy (Rob, I think) told us he would be our instructor, and we both hauled out our cameras and listened very carefully.
The first thing I noticed when I had a Harris Hawk sit on my wrist is that the talons are very sharp, and so is that beak. While the plumage is beautiful, and even more attractive up close, these attributes do not command immediate attention. I found it disconcerting, at first, to be so close to those huge claws on dinosaur-like feet. Did I mention his name was Mycroft? That took a couple of minutes to sink in.
Harris Hawks are unique among raptors in that they hunt socially. This gives them a huge advantage over non-social hawks as far as falconry goes, because they won't get all pissy if two or more go after the same target. Also, they're a fairly small for a raptor--three and a half foot wingspan, between one and a half and two and a half pounds (the females are larger). But up close, Mycroft is clearly a death machine.
Attached to the bird's legs are three devices. One, some jingle bells so you know where it is. Second are the jesses, leather thongs so that you can hold onto the bird until you're ready to let him go. Think of them as bird-reigns. The bird steps onto your gloved hand, and you make a fist, clasping the jesses between your middle and ring finger. This keeps the bird in check if it decides to take off at the wrong moment. The third device is a radio transmitter with antenna, just in case the bird flies off.
I learned that you have to walk so that the bird is always facing into the wind--otherwise they get agitated. Walking backwards is a small price to pay when you're keeping the Massive Sharp Beak of Death calm.
Once we learned the basic tips, we were ready to receive the bird. Rob would cast the bird, it would go to a downwind perch. Then I raised my gloved arm, and Mycroft took off, and headed for me. Mycroft, apparently, flies lower than many of the usual birds, getting a bit of ground effect. Then he perfectly, every time, came up and landed on my arm. Stuck the landing even as he grabbed the little beefy treat the trainer put on my glove as a reward. Watching a bird land on your arm is really amazing, so much energy conserved, and yet each one is absolutely perfect (unless I screw it up).
After a couple of landings, we learned to cast. This is something like throwing a rock or a baseball. You hold the jesses for a quarter second as you throw, giving the hawk a bit of a boost. So we managed to get the hawk off my glove and back a couple of times, and each time, Mycroft got a tasty treat.
We did a little ranging after that, walking along, and the bird would make quick flying hops from, tree branch to tree branch to keep up with us. We could hear it only because of the jingle bells attached to its legs. So when you hear the jingle over your roof... it's probably not reindeer.
Our hour was over far too quickly. Falconry is hugely entertaining, because you've got this raptor doing its thing off your wrist. That last bit is incredibly strange, because we seldom get close to birds, let alone anything as magnificent as a medium-sized raptor. I got a real appreciation for the complexity of hawk flight, as well as for the difficulty in training hawks.
I don't think I'll want to participate in the hunting aspect of the sport. It's the next logical step, and the next lesson, but I'm a lot more interested in the bird for itself than it coming back with a squirrel.
Special thanks to the Queen of Science for the wonderful pictures.
And he said yes.
So there we were, 11AM, scrungy as we usually are, walking up to this nice little barn. A very nice guy (Rob, I think) told us he would be our instructor, and we both hauled out our cameras and listened very carefully.
The first thing I noticed when I had a Harris Hawk sit on my wrist is that the talons are very sharp, and so is that beak. While the plumage is beautiful, and even more attractive up close, these attributes do not command immediate attention. I found it disconcerting, at first, to be so close to those huge claws on dinosaur-like feet. Did I mention his name was Mycroft? That took a couple of minutes to sink in.
Harris Hawks are unique among raptors in that they hunt socially. This gives them a huge advantage over non-social hawks as far as falconry goes, because they won't get all pissy if two or more go after the same target. Also, they're a fairly small for a raptor--three and a half foot wingspan, between one and a half and two and a half pounds (the females are larger). But up close, Mycroft is clearly a death machine.
Attached to the bird's legs are three devices. One, some jingle bells so you know where it is. Second are the jesses, leather thongs so that you can hold onto the bird until you're ready to let him go. Think of them as bird-reigns. The bird steps onto your gloved hand, and you make a fist, clasping the jesses between your middle and ring finger. This keeps the bird in check if it decides to take off at the wrong moment. The third device is a radio transmitter with antenna, just in case the bird flies off.
I learned that you have to walk so that the bird is always facing into the wind--otherwise they get agitated. Walking backwards is a small price to pay when you're keeping the Massive Sharp Beak of Death calm.
Once we learned the basic tips, we were ready to receive the bird. Rob would cast the bird, it would go to a downwind perch. Then I raised my gloved arm, and Mycroft took off, and headed for me. Mycroft, apparently, flies lower than many of the usual birds, getting a bit of ground effect. Then he perfectly, every time, came up and landed on my arm. Stuck the landing even as he grabbed the little beefy treat the trainer put on my glove as a reward. Watching a bird land on your arm is really amazing, so much energy conserved, and yet each one is absolutely perfect (unless I screw it up).
After a couple of landings, we learned to cast. This is something like throwing a rock or a baseball. You hold the jesses for a quarter second as you throw, giving the hawk a bit of a boost. So we managed to get the hawk off my glove and back a couple of times, and each time, Mycroft got a tasty treat.
We did a little ranging after that, walking along, and the bird would make quick flying hops from, tree branch to tree branch to keep up with us. We could hear it only because of the jingle bells attached to its legs. So when you hear the jingle over your roof... it's probably not reindeer.
Our hour was over far too quickly. Falconry is hugely entertaining, because you've got this raptor doing its thing off your wrist. That last bit is incredibly strange, because we seldom get close to birds, let alone anything as magnificent as a medium-sized raptor. I got a real appreciation for the complexity of hawk flight, as well as for the difficulty in training hawks.
I don't think I'll want to participate in the hunting aspect of the sport. It's the next logical step, and the next lesson, but I'm a lot more interested in the bird for itself than it coming back with a squirrel.
Special thanks to the Queen of Science for the wonderful pictures.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Making Our Own Fun
I have a friend who hangs out at the Geek Bar and complains that there's nothing to do in town. He was recently fired, and is looking for a job in larger cities, like Denver. I say go for it. Everyone should decide for themselves the size of the place they want to live in, and you don't know what you'll like until you live there for a while.
But I laugh at him when he says he's bored. It's a lot better to be creative and self-entertaining rather than waiting for the world to come to you. As Harvey Danger said in “Flagpole Sitta,” "If you're bored then you're boring." I find there's too much entertainment out there, and I don't have enough time to get to everything I want.
This morning, for example, the local fire department burned a house down. The local paper announced it, so we went out and sat in our car at 6:30 in the morning to watch.
I've never seen a house burn down before. Not live, not from beginning to end. It's surprisingly slow, with a lot of billowing smoke. And then there's fire licking out of the roof, a whole lot more smoke, and suddenly the whole thing is going like a bonfire.
These photos are presented in order, but there isn't any set time between them. I just snapped pictures when things seemed to be interesting.
About fifteen minutes after we saw the first puffs of smoke.
Maybe twenty minutes into the process. You can already see how parts of the external roof are charring.
Twenty-five minutes in, we get the first visible fire on the roof. They'd taken the tar shingles off the roof earlier, which probably kept this from getting messy.
Not much later. You can see smoke damage and burn to the left of the leftmost window.
The house is pretty much unsavable at this point.
The particle board that covered the left window is gone, and you can see it's an oven in there. You can also see the rafters in the roof. Watch the difference between roof between this and the next picture.
The ridge of the roof is sagging badly, and the place is coming down pretty soon. I wouldn't want to be the firefighter that walks into that.
The roof has collapsed. When you see a fire on a TV show or a movie, it pretty much is at this stage. It doesn't last very long without a lot of accelerant.
I've never watched a house burn down, and hope I never do unless it's another controlled demolition.
It'll go into a story some day.
But I laugh at him when he says he's bored. It's a lot better to be creative and self-entertaining rather than waiting for the world to come to you. As Harvey Danger said in “Flagpole Sitta,” "If you're bored then you're boring." I find there's too much entertainment out there, and I don't have enough time to get to everything I want.
This morning, for example, the local fire department burned a house down. The local paper announced it, so we went out and sat in our car at 6:30 in the morning to watch.
I've never seen a house burn down before. Not live, not from beginning to end. It's surprisingly slow, with a lot of billowing smoke. And then there's fire licking out of the roof, a whole lot more smoke, and suddenly the whole thing is going like a bonfire.
These photos are presented in order, but there isn't any set time between them. I just snapped pictures when things seemed to be interesting.
About fifteen minutes after we saw the first puffs of smoke.
Maybe twenty minutes into the process. You can already see how parts of the external roof are charring.
Twenty-five minutes in, we get the first visible fire on the roof. They'd taken the tar shingles off the roof earlier, which probably kept this from getting messy.
Not much later. You can see smoke damage and burn to the left of the leftmost window.
The house is pretty much unsavable at this point.
The particle board that covered the left window is gone, and you can see it's an oven in there. You can also see the rafters in the roof. Watch the difference between roof between this and the next picture.
The ridge of the roof is sagging badly, and the place is coming down pretty soon. I wouldn't want to be the firefighter that walks into that.
The roof has collapsed. When you see a fire on a TV show or a movie, it pretty much is at this stage. It doesn't last very long without a lot of accelerant.
I've never watched a house burn down, and hope I never do unless it's another controlled demolition.
It'll go into a story some day.
Monday, November 2, 2009
What a Halloween weekend should be
The Queen of Science and I traveled to Connecticut for a good friend's party, and it was most excellent. The costumes were great. We had a magnificent Genghis Khan, a delightful Snow Queen, a touch of steampunk, more birds than anyone anticipated, several devils, and a really awesome pair of French Maids. Even better, the conversations were quite interesting: the Snow Queen knows a very diverse group of friends, and at any point, there were at least two interesting conversations going within earshot. She is also a divine cook, and a hostess of the diligent, attentive old school.
Side note to college-aged trick-or-treaters: wearing a T-shirt that tells us which college you are going to actually reduces the likelihood of receiving candy.
Sunday morning, I staggered on sleepy legs to be script doctor and director of photography for Iren Bear's "Thanks Wargamers" video. I'm amazed at how little time it takes for Iren Bear to put together something solid and well-edited on Youtube. In it, he thanks the voters for his win (see previous post). This video also is the first to feature him, and features a hilarious cameo from Mrs. Iren Bear. Give it a watch if you're at all geeky: Iren Bear writes a concise, funny video.
Side note to college-aged trick-or-treaters: wearing a T-shirt that tells us which college you are going to actually reduces the likelihood of receiving candy.
Sunday morning, I staggered on sleepy legs to be script doctor and director of photography for Iren Bear's "Thanks Wargamers" video. I'm amazed at how little time it takes for Iren Bear to put together something solid and well-edited on Youtube. In it, he thanks the voters for his win (see previous post). This video also is the first to feature him, and features a hilarious cameo from Mrs. Iren Bear. Give it a watch if you're at all geeky: Iren Bear writes a concise, funny video.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Watching Movies, the Old-Fashioned Way...
Hathaway's Drive-In in North Hoosick had a end-of the season closer we couldn't resist: Up followed by Star Trek.
We aren't really drive-in people. The heyday of cars and movies was a bit before our time, and we're not really that in love with our car. It's a small, efficient box that gets us from point A to point B. But it's fun to go and see a film in a venue that is past its prime, to get a whiff of the way things used to be.
The intermission video was particularly interesting. The animated bits looked like they came from Jay Ward Productions (of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame). The non-animated parts were also interesting. Mostly, they were an exhortation to visit the snack bar (where the drive-in makes most of its money). Offering hot dogs and burgers was one thing, but watching a 60s-era bag of popcorn get a small pail of butter poured over it was horrifying.
Hathaway's utilizes the two traditional methods of getting the sound to the customer: stands with wired speakers on them (you hang them on your door) and a low-wattage broadcast that can be picked up on the car radio. The speakers are clearly the original material, large aluminum boxes the size an internal DVD drive. We hung it on the steering wheel, it was too chilly to keep the window open. The drive-in is not, incidentally, the best place to see a film with a lot of audio magic. The speaker is mono, so unless your car radio is awesome you're going to lose the audio designed for Dolby Digital or THX.
Fun was had. We cuddled under blankets to keep warm, watched Star Trek for the fourth time on the big screen.
We aren't really drive-in people. The heyday of cars and movies was a bit before our time, and we're not really that in love with our car. It's a small, efficient box that gets us from point A to point B. But it's fun to go and see a film in a venue that is past its prime, to get a whiff of the way things used to be.
The intermission video was particularly interesting. The animated bits looked like they came from Jay Ward Productions (of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame). The non-animated parts were also interesting. Mostly, they were an exhortation to visit the snack bar (where the drive-in makes most of its money). Offering hot dogs and burgers was one thing, but watching a 60s-era bag of popcorn get a small pail of butter poured over it was horrifying.
Hathaway's utilizes the two traditional methods of getting the sound to the customer: stands with wired speakers on them (you hang them on your door) and a low-wattage broadcast that can be picked up on the car radio. The speakers are clearly the original material, large aluminum boxes the size an internal DVD drive. We hung it on the steering wheel, it was too chilly to keep the window open. The drive-in is not, incidentally, the best place to see a film with a lot of audio magic. The speaker is mono, so unless your car radio is awesome you're going to lose the audio designed for Dolby Digital or THX.
Fun was had. We cuddled under blankets to keep warm, watched Star Trek for the fourth time on the big screen.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
What a Weekend!
Memorial Day was crazy crazy crazy. But we did run down to the Rock of Ages home to see friends. The Queen of Science and I love the Rock of Ages family, they're our age, they're parents, and they really didn't change at all after they had their kids. And they've got interesting, engaging children.
In a moment of rare unity, all of us, four adults and two kids, aged nine and six, gathered around the computer screen and sang. You know, like people used to do in the old days, singing together, gathered around the radio, or the phonograph? Of course, what was sang was incredibly geeky...
A good time was had by all.
Of the whole weekend, there was really only one false note. I saw this disturbing piece of equipment:
Yes, that's a Hello Kitty sewing machine
WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?
In a moment of rare unity, all of us, four adults and two kids, aged nine and six, gathered around the computer screen and sang. You know, like people used to do in the old days, singing together, gathered around the radio, or the phonograph? Of course, what was sang was incredibly geeky...
A good time was had by all.
Of the whole weekend, there was really only one false note. I saw this disturbing piece of equipment:
Yes, that's a Hello Kitty sewing machine
WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?
Monday, May 18, 2009
More Derby!
In what I hope will become a yearly tradition, Kim Paffenroth and I went to see the roller derby team that he sponsors, the Hudson Valley Horrors. This time I brought my camera and took some very bad photos.
Roller Derby is interesting. There aren't a lot of non-sexualized contact sports for women out there, and watching them in an aggressive sport is fun. Because we know Kim, we're supporters of the Horrors, but Albany has its own team, the Department of Public Hurts. Slightly closer are the Hellions of Troy, who within easier reach than our own state's Green Mountain Derby Dames, who just finished their first season.
Game-wise, the Horrors got their collective assets handed to them by the extremely team-oriented Suburban Brawl. The Brawl had some impressive moves, including the team-mate sling, in which they would grab a teammate's hand and pull them ahead, giving them a momentum boost. They were also consistently faster off the mark than the horrors, and had pin-point accuracy in body-slamming the Jammer (the person who scores the points by lapping members of the other team) off her feet. Following my thought that Derby is more about treachery and teamwork than being young and fast, we're pretty sure the star player of the Brawl, Hard Core-Vette, was an original Disco dancing queen, a possibility reinforced by her victory dance on her final jam.
A good time as had by all, not the least because Kim is a lot of fun to talk to, and he signed the books I shoved under his nose without complaining. The punk sensibility of derby tickles me still. Who wouldn't be a fan of the New York Shock Exchange? Wrestling seems overhyped and over 'roided in comparison. Who cares about such dull names as Triple H when you can cheer for Ann Sane or Pinky Swears?
The Queen of Science has decided her 'derby name should be "Decked-Her Horrible."
Roller Derby is interesting. There aren't a lot of non-sexualized contact sports for women out there, and watching them in an aggressive sport is fun. Because we know Kim, we're supporters of the Horrors, but Albany has its own team, the Department of Public Hurts. Slightly closer are the Hellions of Troy, who within easier reach than our own state's Green Mountain Derby Dames, who just finished their first season.
Game-wise, the Horrors got their collective assets handed to them by the extremely team-oriented Suburban Brawl. The Brawl had some impressive moves, including the team-mate sling, in which they would grab a teammate's hand and pull them ahead, giving them a momentum boost. They were also consistently faster off the mark than the horrors, and had pin-point accuracy in body-slamming the Jammer (the person who scores the points by lapping members of the other team) off her feet. Following my thought that Derby is more about treachery and teamwork than being young and fast, we're pretty sure the star player of the Brawl, Hard Core-Vette, was an original Disco dancing queen, a possibility reinforced by her victory dance on her final jam.
A good time as had by all, not the least because Kim is a lot of fun to talk to, and he signed the books I shoved under his nose without complaining. The punk sensibility of derby tickles me still. Who wouldn't be a fan of the New York Shock Exchange? Wrestling seems overhyped and over 'roided in comparison. Who cares about such dull names as Triple H when you can cheer for Ann Sane or Pinky Swears?
The Queen of Science has decided her 'derby name should be "Decked-Her Horrible."
Sunday, April 19, 2009
WarMachine!
This is the first half of the Warmachine battle report my brother put together last month. I'm pretty impressed... it's the distilled action of what happens in a Warmachine game, without the dice-rolling, the animated argument, and the tedious waiting for a player to make a decision. It establishes a good narrative, the background music is excellent, and it moves along at a good clip. Enjoy.
Two points I'd like to make. One, this wouldn't have looked half as good if the models weren't painted.
Two, I suggested the Adventures of Baron Munchausen reference.
Two points I'd like to make. One, this wouldn't have looked half as good if the models weren't painted.
Two, I suggested the Adventures of Baron Munchausen reference.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Christmastime is Here By Golly , Dissapproval Would be Folly
Since we no longer have television, we have not been bombarded with Christmas carols to sell us things. And it has been a welcome relief. I mean, sure there's still the stores, and that damned place in the center of town that pipes their carols outside, but so far, there hasn't been that onrushing crush of the same damn carols that I remember for the last thirty years.
This is why Gen X cannot say or write or enjoy anything without irony. We've been bombarded with so many things that are supposed to pull at our heartstrings and thus sell us something. Christmas carols are just an example. We don't have a memory of singing them in a beautiful, reverent way, we remember that they were being cheerily piped at us when we were doing our last-minute holiday shopping at Sears or Wal-Mart. That heart-string has been pulled so many times that it's damned difficult to get a reaction from it anymore.
There are a couple of Christmas CDs that I do play every year, but they're not the usual classics. This is the kind of stuff you'll never hear in a store.
A Very Scary Solstace by the HPLHS. Familiar Christmas carols with rewritten lyrics to acknowledge HP Lovecraft's works. How many songs, let alone carols, do you know have lyrics that refer to NonEuclidian Geometry? Wonderful stuff.
Arrest these Merry Gentlemen by the Kipper Family. This is series of dryly humorous Christmas-related songs by by a rather odd collection of North Yorkshiremen. Hard to find, it takes a little time to appreciate, but is well wort6h the effort.
This is why Gen X cannot say or write or enjoy anything without irony. We've been bombarded with so many things that are supposed to pull at our heartstrings and thus sell us something. Christmas carols are just an example. We don't have a memory of singing them in a beautiful, reverent way, we remember that they were being cheerily piped at us when we were doing our last-minute holiday shopping at Sears or Wal-Mart. That heart-string has been pulled so many times that it's damned difficult to get a reaction from it anymore.
There are a couple of Christmas CDs that I do play every year, but they're not the usual classics. This is the kind of stuff you'll never hear in a store.
A Very Scary Solstace by the HPLHS. Familiar Christmas carols with rewritten lyrics to acknowledge HP Lovecraft's works. How many songs, let alone carols, do you know have lyrics that refer to NonEuclidian Geometry? Wonderful stuff.
Arrest these Merry Gentlemen by the Kipper Family. This is series of dryly humorous Christmas-related songs by by a rather odd collection of North Yorkshiremen. Hard to find, it takes a little time to appreciate, but is well wort6h the effort.
Monday, April 14, 2008
AMBER BENSON THINKS I'M FUNNY! I WIN THE INTERNET!
Link is here. It's a good blog, well worth reading. If, however, you're in a hurry, just do what I always do and search the page for "Goodrich". And you will find out that John Everson, at my suggestion, signed Amber Benson. As soon as I can scam some pictures off his website, I'll post them.
5/11 Addendum: For those of you who do not know,Amber Benson played Tara on Buffy the Vampure Slayer. In my opinion, she was one of the best actresses on the show. Since Buffy, she has on to write a series of books with Chris Golden.
When John Everson posted that he was going to be signing with Amber Benson, I said that he should remove the preposition and go ahead and sign her. John mentioned this to Amber, and the thought the idea was funny. So she let him sign her. And here's the proof:
5/11 Addendum: For those of you who do not know,Amber Benson played Tara on Buffy the Vampure Slayer. In my opinion, she was one of the best actresses on the show. Since Buffy, she has on to write a series of books with Chris Golden.
When John Everson posted that he was going to be signing with Amber Benson, I said that he should remove the preposition and go ahead and sign her. John mentioned this to Amber, and the thought the idea was funny. So she let him sign her. And here's the proof:
Friday, April 4, 2008
Did You Know?
Ten Top Trivia Tips about John Goodrich!
- In his entire life, John Goodrich will produce only a twelfth of a teaspoon of honey.
- Contrary to popular belief, John Goodrich is not successful at sobering up a drunk person, and in many cases he may actually increase the adverse effects of alcohol!
- A John Goodrichometer is used to measure John Goodrich.
- John Goodrich is the largest of Saturn's moons!
- Birds do not sleep in John Goodrich, though they may rest in him from time to time!
- Human beings are the only animals that copulate while facing John Goodrich!
- If you toss John Goodrich 10000 times, he will not land heads 5000 times, but more like 4950, because his head weighs more and thus ends up on the bottom!
- Twenty-eight percent of Microsoft's employees are John Goodrich.
- John Goodrich was declared extinct in 1902.
- John Goodrichology is the study of John Goodrich.
And thank God for #6!
Monday, November 5, 2007
Top 10 Great Things About World Fantasy Con 2007
World Fantasy Con was head-spinningly awesome. More writers and topics and editors and all-around delightful people than you could shake a wizard's wand at. I could go on to a hundred or more by being specific, but I'll just tease you with the top 10 great things about World Fantasy Con 2007:
10. Picking up a copy of Nick Mamatas’s Move Under Ground and then starting to set it back on the shelf, only to discover the author was standing behind me. I bought it, and he signed it. Nick remembered that I submitted “God of Chickens” to him without me having to prompt him, which I thought was pretty cool of him. Nick’s a neat guy to talk to.
9. The constant “Holy shit, Walter Jon Williams/ Charles Vess/ Kim Newman/ Lynn Abbey/ Tim Powers” moments as Walter Jon Williams/ Charles Vess/ Kim Newman/ Lynn Abbey/ Tim Powers and literally dozens of other familiar names walked by. It was extraordinarily difficult not to geek out at the parade of fantastic authors who have influenced, entertained and exhilarated me of the years, and I did not succeed every time. They were without exception polite, which cannot have been easy. I will try very hard to restrain my enthusiasm at the next convention, but at the same time, I want these people to know that their work is absolutely marvelous. I must find some balance.
8. William Jones. The man himself–he who bought my first story. We had a long conversation (long enough that the bookseller we were standing in front of shooed us away) about the publication process, what’s going on with Chaosium and Elder Signs Press, why short stories are a good thing, and what’s up next for us both. Awesome guy, and a very important conversation for me.
7. ST Joshi is a stunningly personable man. Those who have only read his commentaries simply cannot understand what an warm and delightful conversationalist he is.
6. The stories. When authors get together, they trade stories about writing and publishing. Like the one about the guy who got a rejection letter and posted a huge rant about it on his blog. A publisher who wanted to give him a three-book deal, looked him up, saw the rant, and decided he might be too difficult to work with. Note to self, be more polite when posting to blog.
5. F. Paul Wilson and Tom Monteleone’s stories. These guys are the veterans of the book trade, and they have a million and one stories, all of the fascinating. Any ending you can imagine to something that starts off with “So Peter Straub, Stephen King and I went out to find the sleeziest strip club in Ottowa” falls short of the actual story. I’m sorry, but it’s simply the truth.
4. Learning that Elizabeth Bear used to play in my CoC campaign! Yes, that Elizabeth Bear.
3. Gary Frank. The thing to do at a convention is to follow Gary around, because he goes some extremely interesting places. And while he does so, he talks a lot of sense about marketing yourself, convention etiquette, and generally how to work conventions to your advantage. Gary’s an old hand at cons, so his advice is useful and practical.
2. Wilum Pugmire. Wilum is so supportive and kind to this fledgling writer. He gave me at least two significant opportunities I would not have thought to take advantage of myself, and we indulged in some highly entertaining conversation. There's no one like Wilum. We've been corresponding for a year, and it was simply a joy to finally meet him.
1. Reading this from “Summation 2006: Horror Anthologies” by Ellen Datlow (p. lii-liii), in The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror, 2007: "Arkham Tales, edited by William Jones (Chaosium), is, according to the editor’s introduction, the first anthology in which '. . . each story . . . is realized in Chaosium’s adaptation of the cosmic horror sub-genre.' In other words, if I understand correctly, each story is inspired directly by an actual aspect of the ‘Call of Cthulhu’ role-playing game published by Chaosium Press. Despite this, the stories do stand alone, and some do some nice riffs on the mythos, including those of C. J. Henderson, Brian M. Sammons, and John Goodrich.”
10. Picking up a copy of Nick Mamatas’s Move Under Ground and then starting to set it back on the shelf, only to discover the author was standing behind me. I bought it, and he signed it. Nick remembered that I submitted “God of Chickens” to him without me having to prompt him, which I thought was pretty cool of him. Nick’s a neat guy to talk to.
9. The constant “Holy shit, Walter Jon Williams/ Charles Vess/ Kim Newman/ Lynn Abbey/ Tim Powers” moments as Walter Jon Williams/ Charles Vess/ Kim Newman/ Lynn Abbey/ Tim Powers and literally dozens of other familiar names walked by. It was extraordinarily difficult not to geek out at the parade of fantastic authors who have influenced, entertained and exhilarated me of the years, and I did not succeed every time. They were without exception polite, which cannot have been easy. I will try very hard to restrain my enthusiasm at the next convention, but at the same time, I want these people to know that their work is absolutely marvelous. I must find some balance.
8. William Jones. The man himself–he who bought my first story. We had a long conversation (long enough that the bookseller we were standing in front of shooed us away) about the publication process, what’s going on with Chaosium and Elder Signs Press, why short stories are a good thing, and what’s up next for us both. Awesome guy, and a very important conversation for me.
7. ST Joshi is a stunningly personable man. Those who have only read his commentaries simply cannot understand what an warm and delightful conversationalist he is.
6. The stories. When authors get together, they trade stories about writing and publishing. Like the one about the guy who got a rejection letter and posted a huge rant about it on his blog. A publisher who wanted to give him a three-book deal, looked him up, saw the rant, and decided he might be too difficult to work with. Note to self, be more polite when posting to blog.
5. F. Paul Wilson and Tom Monteleone’s stories. These guys are the veterans of the book trade, and they have a million and one stories, all of the fascinating. Any ending you can imagine to something that starts off with “So Peter Straub, Stephen King and I went out to find the sleeziest strip club in Ottowa” falls short of the actual story. I’m sorry, but it’s simply the truth.
4. Learning that Elizabeth Bear used to play in my CoC campaign! Yes, that Elizabeth Bear.
3. Gary Frank. The thing to do at a convention is to follow Gary around, because he goes some extremely interesting places. And while he does so, he talks a lot of sense about marketing yourself, convention etiquette, and generally how to work conventions to your advantage. Gary’s an old hand at cons, so his advice is useful and practical.
2. Wilum Pugmire. Wilum is so supportive and kind to this fledgling writer. He gave me at least two significant opportunities I would not have thought to take advantage of myself, and we indulged in some highly entertaining conversation. There's no one like Wilum. We've been corresponding for a year, and it was simply a joy to finally meet him.
1. Reading this from “Summation 2006: Horror Anthologies” by Ellen Datlow (p. lii-liii), in The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror, 2007: "Arkham Tales, edited by William Jones (Chaosium), is, according to the editor’s introduction, the first anthology in which '. . . each story . . . is realized in Chaosium’s adaptation of the cosmic horror sub-genre.' In other words, if I understand correctly, each story is inspired directly by an actual aspect of the ‘Call of Cthulhu’ role-playing game published by Chaosium Press. Despite this, the stories do stand alone, and some do some nice riffs on the mythos, including those of C. J. Henderson, Brian M. Sammons, and John Goodrich.”
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