Ignorant, Contentious, and...

a Welsher

A Story

by Carl and Llerendel

Once upon a time there was a turtle name Lily who lived on a pad. One day she played with a kitten and said, "Hello!" in a pink sort of way.

They went to the castle and looked at the Queen. The Queen said, "Get me my ball. And get Pooh Bear." Lily and the kitten went back to their pond and swam to the bottom and found a soggy Pooh Bear.

They bought him to the Queen who screamed, "No ball! Off with their heads!"

But Pooh Bear said, "No. The ball is there under your throne." The Queen looked down and saw the ball.

She said, "Time for a party. Let's eat some cake!"

Turtle said, "Instead of cake, can i have a kugel?" So they all sat down to feast and lived hapily ever after.

A Day with the Kids

Subject: "El I P" - A Day with the Kids
Date: Mon, 04 Sep 1995 01:27:43 -0400 

On the way home from the Mall, we stopped at MRS. No one was there to spoil the illusion, as I took them on a tour of the Clean Room, were we assemble the PanelPrinters. Before entering, everyone had to put on a White Lab Coat (Daddy had his name on his!), Blue Shoe Covers, and, for the vision unchallanged, Plastic Saftey Glasses. As we entered the Airlock, and the jet blasts of air swept over everyone, I told them of the Great Dangers that Awaited Careless Children in the Clean Room.

There were Five Tons of Granite Slab, waiting to crush all your leg bones into a powder so fine that your feet would have the strength of day-old jello. There were treacherous Robot Arms, that without warning, would zwoop into action with the unstoppable and awesome force of BattleTech droid punches, paying no heed to any arms, faces, or other soft body parts in their way. There were High Voltage Wires, that would fry you like a mosquito in a backyard bug zapper. There were $250,000 and $2,500,000 Optically Precise Glass Lenses, just awaiting the careless touch of a finger to require sending them back to the manufacturer for regrinding. (And no, washing your hands, even with soap, won't help!) There were the incredibly dangerous Super Bright Mercury Vapor Lamps, so toxic that one breath would condemn you to a slow, lingering death as your lungs rotted away within your body.

The kids ate it up. Alana was terrified, and demanded that we turn back.

I took her aside, and told her that the only things that were really hazardous were the electrical conduits, which were safely behind the PanelPrinters, and the mercury lamps, of which only one had shattered in a zillion hours of operation. Still, I picked up Llerendel, and Alana took Carl by both hands, as he has a habit of caroming around, touching everything. Eileen stayed glued to her mother's side.

We passed through the final door, and there was an assembled PanelPrinter in front of us. I showed how the substrate moved through the machine, with the Robot Arms shuttling back and forth, and the Mercury Lamp shining through the Optically Precise Glass Lens. The kids thought it was, and I quote, "big".

We went left, and found a machine being built. The base Three Ton Granite Slab was on its hydraulic casters, with the smaller (but only by comparison) Two Ton Granite Slab on wheels, awaiting its final positioning. With visions of having to spend the rest of their lives walking about on runny and wobbly jello, the children stayed far away.

Next, I showed them an unassembled Robot Arm, with its ribbon cable and chain drive. It wasn't moving, so they didn't think much of it. Later, in the Arpa Lab, they saw the Stepper Motor moving around in a random walk, and were much more impressed.

One of the conduit boxes was open, as there had been some breaker trouble earlier in the week. From a safe distance, I pointed out the yellow and black checkered wall graphic design, and the large red High Voltage Wires and signs.

Finally, we walked towards Bay 1. I wanted to show the family exactly what I had been working on for most of Thursday afternoon. On the way, I showed them one of the Optically Precise Glass Lenses on a cart, and picked up some glass from the broken glass bin. Everyone ooohed as they saw the pretty colors etched into the glass. At Bay 1, I pointed to the giant AC tubes, and the Rack, and then turned to see Carl leaning on the shelf looking into the Stockroom. And to see what Carl's elbow was very close to - two unopened Super Bright Mercury Vapor Lamps, just sittng on the ledge.

Uh-oh. This was what is called, A MAJOR SITUATION. What to do? If I called out, "Carlton! Don't Move!", his first impulse would be to swing around to face me, with gawkish 10 yr old elbows flying everywhere. At which point, I would have to pick up 4 6/9ths people, and evacute the area at the speed of light. Not to mention having to call my boss, and fill out my weight in paperwork, and have my paycheck reduced to imaginary numbers for the next 20 years. Not Good.

Or, I could do nothing. Maybe Carl would tire of looking into the stockroom window, and slip down, and walk away, and everything would be just fine. Yeah, right. And pigs will learn to whistle and fly at the same time. We're talking about someone who needed help buttoning his White Lab Coat, and put the Blue Shoe Covers on inside out and backwards.

All this passed through my mind in about the time it takes for light
to travel inside the PanelPrinter from the SBMV Lamp, through the OPG
Lens, and down to where the Robot Arm waited with the glass plate. Or maybe less, I don't know. I slung Llerendel in Alana's general direction, muttered "Excuse me" as I bulldozed Eileen to one side, took three quick steps, and grabbed the two potentially lethal elbows.

"What are you looking at?" I calmly asked.

"Pop Pops! That's the room where we got the Bubble Wrapping Paper last time we were here. I bet Llerendel would like to get some more Pop Pops, huh Dad."

"Yes, I think I can arrange that," I said, as I slid Carl with meticulous care towards the other end of the shelf. Then, I helped him down, and led him away. Alana was comforting two rather upset girls, who were not used to being manhandled so roughly by me. Alana was opening her mouth to give me what for, when I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at the shelf. She did a double take, as she read the label:

WARNING - INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS
Super Bright Mercury Vapor Lamps
Keep Away From Gawky Elbows

"I think we should go get some Pop Pops, don't you, dear?" I asked. Alana picked her jaw off the floor, stammered agreement, and we all marched back to the Airlock, removed t BSCs and WLCs, and went around to the stockroom. Luckily, the Packing Trash Barrel had a number of different sizes of Pop Pops to choose from, and we left the building to the sound of "Pop" "Pip" "Popipop poppoppop", as everyone happily squeezed the plastic.

How I comment on blogs

One of my favorite webcomics about sums it up...

Work vs. Game

Derived from an essay by Zubon

In-game

We do not have five-hour meetings.

When we gather a large group of people for five hours, we plan to slaughter monsters by the thousand, thereby amassing great wealth to be divided equally.

In-game

We do not spend the first half hour of our gathering engaging in a clever ice-breaker designed to get those creative juices flowing and put everyone in the right mental place for a free-wheeling discussion.

We spend the first half-hour alt-tabbed, doing something useful, while waiting for everyone to get to the right zone.

In-game

The raid leader does not pretend free-wheeling discussions matter.

We do not pretend that this is a participatory democracy in which you are encouraged to contribute your views, only to have them ignored in favor of a previously decided message of “We are doing it in the following way!” We go straight to the top-down message. If you have a workable alternative, it will be considered; otherwise, shut up.

In-game

The guild leader does not show up late, deliver vague and uninspiring remarks, and then disappear until the end, when they return and dictate the conclusion.

Anyone trying that crap gets no drops and is banned from future raids, healer or no. Being further up the guild chain of command obligates you to participate in the entire event.

In-game

We learn from our mistakes.

If we do the same thing every time, it means that it worked last time. Unless there were disruptions by morons or bad lag, a strategy that failed last time will not do any better this time. Complete wipes, while valuable teaching moments, are not common in the workplace.

In-game

We may break out for small group work, but not for brainstorming.

Each small group will be accomplishing some separate goal needed for collective success, rather than separately covering the same ground as other group. We are more likely to be scouring an area for survivors and finishing them off. Group membership will be chosen to enhance success, rather than on the basis of who is sitting where.

In-game

When our small groups are reporting out their activity, there are two acceptable answers:

1. we're all set

2. we're all dead

You may also gloat briefly if something very shiny dropped.

"totally stupid and gay"

[That song was] totally stupid and gay
Gay? Does this song find itself sexually attracted to songs of the same gender? If you were just trying to say "stupid" two times and ran out of synonyms (dumb, lame, idiotic, pointless, unintelligent, empty, vapid,clueless?), may I suggest that you just stop at the first "stupid"? Gay does not mean stupid.

Great Beams of Film!

“Do you expect me to talk?”
No, Mr. Bond, we expect you to get sliced in half by an exquisitely simple laser, starting at your Thunderballs and working up from there.

and

The space aliens in Independence Day may have had computer systems with lousier security countermeasures than Paris Hilton’s porn-packed Sidekick, but they sure knew how to wreck shit up with beams.

A slashdot cascade

I know how to deal with spam. (Score:5, Funny)

I dont get nearly as much spam as that, but even a few hundred a day is pretty irritating. My solution is to delete all email as soon as I get it.

I figure if its important I'll get a phone call.
--

Funny, I delete all phone calls as soon as I get them. I figure if it's important I'll get an IM.
--

Funny, I delete all IMs as soon as I get them. I figure if it's important, I'll get a visit.
--

Funny, I delete all of my visitors as soon as they show up. I figure if it's important, I'll get an e-mail.

I couldn't resist, I'm sorry. *hangs head in shame* --
--

Funny, I delete all of my visitors as soon as they show up. I figure if it's important, the police will come and circle the house.
--

Funny, in Soviet Russia the police delete you.
--

Sorry, readers. The posters and the posts above are on the queue to be sacked. We had asked someone in the department to sack them earlier, but they didn't do it. Those responsible for sacking the people who have just been sacked have been sacked.

As a result, since no one receives email, calls, visitors, IMs, telegrams, or Soviet secret police, we are sending messenger (African) pigeons to deliver these messages to you, in an entirely different style at great expense and at the last minute.

Review of Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith

Star Wars, nothing but Star Wars, going to see Star Wars, again and again!

Well, maybe not. My initial snap judgement was "It didn't suck, but it wasn't good." However, after getting over the glow of seeing Vader on the bridge of a Star Destroyer, and pondering on the plot problems, I've decided upon "It sucked."

I haven't read any of the movie review sights yet, but I wouldn't be surprised to see my list below is similar to others.

Spoilers.

Anakin's subversion into Vader is unconvincing. Think back to Dagobah, and all the screen time spent between Luke and Yoda, "showing" the attraction and danger of the Dark Side. Contrast that to the "telling" in this movie.

I see two excuses for why Anakin switches: his anger with the Jedi Council, and his fear of Padme's death. However, the real reason is that Palpatine is fucking with his head. Obi-wan does try and work with Anakin on the Council, but doesn't the Republic have good obstetrical medicine? How often do people die in childbirth, and no one bothered with an ultrasound to discover she was carrying twins?

Likewise, how pregnant was Padme at the start of the movie, and how many days/weeks/months until the delivery? Anakin makes out with her just outside the Senate, visits her penthouse apartment, yet no one knows he's the father?

Anakin turns in order to save Padme and his child from death, yet feels no compunction against slaughtering the little Jedi kids. We have screen time where Padme echos my disbelief -- but there is nothing on the screen except frozen facial expressions to explain why Anakin did so.

Mind you, Anakin's final speech to Padme about killing Palpatine and ruling the galaxy "the way we want to" is delivered with the right amount of insanity and meglomania, as well as being excellent forshadowing of Vader's offer to Luke. But again, we are "told" -- there has been no evidence on screen that Anakin was having these thoughts.

How many hours/days does it take to get from Couresant to the lava planet? How long did it take for the scratch on Anakin's face to heal?

And explain the climactic light sabre duel, please? "Give up, I have the high ground." "Ha! I'm better than you!" We're "told" that Anakin is a much better Jedi than most, but we're "shown" otherwise.

Is there an explanation in one of the canonical books as to Yoda? Obviously, he knows far more about the Dark Side than a good Jedi Master is supposed to. Yet why does he run away? Our bouncing green pinball is holding his own in the Senate Chamber, and all of a sudden he gives up. I saw nothing in the movie that would explain why he stopped trying to take out Palpatine. He crawls away via a Jeffries tube, then runs away to Dagobah. Bah.

Obi-Wan's retirement on Tatooine seems similarly forced, and I'm not sure what he says at the end of this movie interlocks with what we hear in A New Hope.

Not quite as bad as the Canonical List of X-Men Dangling Plotlines, yet not very satisfying...

August 2007 sermon notes

Lammas - astronomically, it is Wednesday

definition from our modern day arbiter of truthiness, Wikipedia. At least, the definition as of yesterday:

In English-speaking countries, August 1 is Lammas Day (loaf-mass day), the festival of the first wheat harvest of the year. On this day it was customary to bring to church a loaf made from the new crop. In many parts of England, tenants were bound to present freshly harvested wheat to their landlords on or before the first day of August. In the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, where it is referred to regularly, it is called "the feast of first fruits". The blessing of new fruits was performed annually in both the Eastern and Western Churches on the first of August.

In the British Isles, the custom of giving the First Fruits to the Gods evolved into giving them to the landlord. Lammas is now the traditional time for tenant farmers to pay their rent.

Neo-pagan movement, "Wheel of the Year." 8 holidays, or "holy days". 4 quarter days, solstice and equinox. 4 cross-quarter days: imbolc Feb 2 running out of food beltane Mayday fertility rite lammas aug 1 first harvest samhain oct 1 last harvest

To set the mood, my first reading will be my adaption of a medieval poem set during an English Lammas fair. It mentions the herbs gathered during this season. The plot is timeless; it features an estranged couple describing what it would take before they were willing to get back together again, by sarcastically give each other impossible tasks. Reminds me of when Trish or I have to communicate with our ex-spouses.

You'll have heard of it, thanks to the singing talents of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel.

Reading: Scarborough Fair

---

So, why would anyone want to celebrate Lammas?

Arguably, the first question ever asked was, "What's for dinner?" asked by one paramecium to another. The answer was, of course, "you are", followed by a burp.

Humans share food. Other species co-operate in hunting, but do not share the kill. Think about your cats and dogs. They may eat from the same bowl, but how they look at each other. It's speculated that if we taught monkey's to communicate, the first question it would ask us is, "Why are you sharing your food?"

There are two kinds of people: those who divide things into categories, and those who don't. I'll now declare my allegiance to the second. By describing where food came from, by answering the question "What's for dinner?" in several different epoches of humanity's existance.

The past 100 years

The past 10,000 years

The past 100,000 years.

The past 100 years, we've had industrial agriculture From about 10,000BCE to recently featured pastoral agriculture The preceding 90,000 years, there was no agriculture at all.

In other words, the whole concept of a "harvest" has changed dramatically.

So, back to the beginning.

Scientists are still arguing about what differentiates Homo Sapiens Sapiens from competing humanoid species like Homo Sapiens Neandertalis. And there's lots of work being done on when. But I like round numbers. So, lets say that about 100,000 years ago, about 100,000 people who we could recognize as humans were living in sub- Sahara Africa. What drove them to leave their Garden of Eden?

It was a combination of the ice ages and the Sahara basin. During the ten thousand years of an ice age, the Sahara would flourish as a grassland, and humans would migrate north. Then for a thousand years, the icecap would recede and the climate dry out. The grass would die, and so would the animals living there. Since there were already humans occupying the lands to the south, humans had no choice but to push northward, into the Fertile Crescent and then onto Europe and Asia, and then eventually across the Bering land bridge into the Americas.

In other words, for 30-50K years, the Sahara acted as a giant pump.

---

What was life like for those wanderers? Here's what life was like for 90% of the past 100,000 years no farming, no food storage, no "stuff". "ice ages" in central/southern europe hunter-gatherer cultures, spread around the world about 3-5 hours of work to gather enough food Paleolithic, Mesolithic

"What's for dinner?"

rotated 5-6 camps food gathering dependent on location shellfish, migrating animals, tubers

no stuff. amber and obsidian was traded long distances

So, what happened about 10,000 BCE? The last ice age ended. The polar icecap receded. Trees grew across Europe, trees that would not be cut until iron could be smelted. The great migrating herds died off. And humans had to look for another food source.

estimated about 10,000 humans wandering around in Europe. Hungry humans. Humans looking for a new answer to the question, "What's for dinner." And the answer became, "grain".

---

Why did they? Legends about inventions. Inventing the wheel, domesticating animals, creating the first pot, mining copper, inventing bronze. Here's my theory about why agriculture was invented.

A few days after a windstorm about this time of the year, hunters stalking animals. animals drank from shallow pool in which some grasses had fallen. Animals lurched around. Humans killed the animals, went back. "You try it. No, you try it." Beer!

And so was born the world's first shamen, to be quickly followed by the world's first hangover.

Over the next few thousand years, several more breakthroughs independently happened, and were diffused in various places around the world. The term "mesolithic" "meso-" meaning "middle", has been coined to describe the time period when tribes transitioned from paleolithic hunter-gatherers to neolithic farmers.

1. We don't have to wait for a windstorm. We can cut the grasses ourselves, and dump them into the water. 2. Better yet, how about someone invent special pottery, so we can control the fermentation. 2. Hey! We don't have to wait for the grass to grow, we can sow it ourselves.

My second reading will also be familiar to folk music fans, courtesy of Steve Winwood and Traffic. Interesting how our most modern music has roots in the past. Maybe it has to do with our fascination with beer.

Reading: John Barleycorn

Archaeologists are able to measure the adoption of innovative technology. With no written history, we can only guess at what gods or goddesses the neolithic societies worshiped, or how they worshiped them. It's sort of a running gag that when something unexpected is found at a dig site, the default explanation for it is "religious purposes." But by digging in trash heaps and exhuming graves, by carbon dating, by looking at tree rings, we can get an idea of trade routes and the transmission of new ideas.

In the paleolithic era, circa 90,000 BCE it took about 10,000 years for a new, more efficient way of "knapping" flints to go from Anatolia, in modern-day Turkey, to the Iberian peninsula. Flint is important because it will hold an edge, but the right kind of rock is a relatively scarce resource, We call it the "Stone Age" because flint axes were used to kill large animals, to scrape hides, and start fires. You can see how a tribe would have a competitive edge if it was able to make multiple tools out of a single hunk of rock.

In the mesolithic era, circa 15,000 BCE, it only took about 1,000 years. for a new, more efficient way of firing pots to make its way across Europe. Better pots mean larger pots. Larger pots mean that you can actually start storing food for longer periods of time.

But around 4000 BCE, it only took 100 years for a new way of increasing the alcohol content of beer to sweep across Europe. Instantaneously (by archaeological time), a new large "beaker" or fermenting pot appears everywhere. The "Beaker People" used to be thought of as a conquering horde, like Atilla the Hun. But modern scholarship now tends to think of them not as a racial group, but as one of the first forms of cultural imperialism, The twin technologies of improved beer and copper weapons -- an unbeatable combination.

And copper weapons brings us to the subject of warfare. You might ask, what is the connection between the harvest and killing?

---

Here's what life was like for 90% of the past 10,000 years

Neolithic cultures cereal cultivation, 8-10 hours of work stockpiling meant warfare.

There are three movies that show warfare in the three great epochs.

Remember "2001", with the apes screaming at each other, until one kills another and they all run away? That's two hunter- gatherer tribes fighting over who gets to gather food from a particular area.

Remember "300", with the two armies fighting to the last man? That's two agricultural tribes fighting over who gets to take the other side's stuff.

Remember "1941", with aerial bombing? That's two industrial agricultural societies fighting over ideology.

Neo-pagans have made a great big deal over how paleolithic matriarchal societies were peaceful and lived in harmony with nature and didn't oppress one another And how mean old patriarchal neolithic societies came along and invented war and the oppression of women.

It's a nice facile story, but scholarship has shown that life isn't that simple. Both forms of governance can commit atrocities. But there is a kernel of truth in the dichotomy, and it comes down to genetics. Males, with their generally stronger upper body strength, are better at organized conflict. Add to that the fact that 90% of all young males are expendable, and you have a recipe for societal aggression.

If you're tied to the land, you:

1. acquire stuff

2. have to defend the stuff, meaning a non-farming class.

It now becomes a viable strategy for your tribe to send a war band of expendable males out, and try and acquire another tribe's stuff. For the first time on earth, a farming community has the ability to stockpile food and goods, which means that someone else can come along and take it. For the first time on earth, slavery becomes economically feasible. It doesn't make sense for a migrating tribe to keep slaves, because they compete for food as the band travels. But they are certainly useful to help grow crops.

What if a tribe decides not to go a-viking, ? Well, you're still going to need a warrior class, to fend off other tribe's warriors. There are some indications, based on the types of injuries found in graves, that not all of the tribes who adopted "Beaker People" technology actually engaged in aggression.

worldwide population climbed to about 100 million by 1000 BCE 99% farmers Why 1000 BCE?

It's about this time that we pass from pre-history to history, with the invention of empire. Emperors want to know how much stuff they have, and thus is born accounting, and from accounting comes writing, and from writing comes literature. The earliest literature consists of the codification of oral traditions, so the ancient myths and legends are written down.

Egypt and Sumer, then the Indus river valley and Yang'tse river valley cultures, locked in their past. But the nature of agriculture remains the same for about another 2,000 years. It isn't until the coming of the industrial revolution that the way farmers grow food, and harvest food, changes.

Harvesting is a time of celebration. We're storing food, we won't die this winter. Lammas is the first harvest, Samhain is the last harvest. The next three months are going to be a busy time. But let's throw a party first.

My third reading is a description of a Lammas harvest party by one of my favorite authors, Thomas Hardy. Please ignore any wincing noises coming from Trish for the next few minutes; she suffered from an overexposure to Victorian writers while she was getting her Ph.D. in English.

Reading: Woodbury Hill Fair

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We're now down to the last 100 years, and the answer to the question "What's for dinner?" explodes with possibilities. Just look at the grocery store. But as I hope I've shown, how that question is answered determines how a tribe lives its daily life. Here are some interesting statistics, courtesy of the USDA. I'm going to focus on the United States, not because I'm ignoring the rest of the world, but because unless something drastic happens, the rest of the world is going to do thier darnest to emulate our lifestyle.

Remember, 100K years ago, there were about 100K humans, living in Africa. Then at the start of the Neolithic revolution, 10K BCE, there were about 1 million spread worldwide. 100 thousand compared to a million sounds like a lot, but over 90K years, that's less than a 1%/year growth rate. During this time, no one farms.

After 9000 years of agriculture, about 1000BCE, its estimated that worldwide there were 100 million people. We're up to 1%/year growth rate. About 99% of the population farms, and 1% don't.

Jump forward to 1900. At that same rate, world population has climbed to 1.5 billion. In the US, about 40% of the country works on farms, growing food for the other 60%.

About this time, mechanization and petroleum-based fertilizer and insectides come into use. Today, worldwide population climbed to about 6.5 billion. If you've seen Al Gore's documentary, you know where the population curve is going. Expotentially up. We're up to 5%/year growth.

2002 DoA farm census - 3million farmers, 300million population, about 1%

2 million farms, 3.5% of total area "farm" means more than $1000/year only 1/5th make more than 75%

For the first time in human existence, most people don't farm. Their survival does not depend on the yearly cycles of nature. What does this dramatic transformation mean for our souls?

The next part of the service starts when I stop talking. Instead, I invite you to reflect on your personal experience with food, with farming, with harvesting, with preserving. Here are some sample questions, to get you thinking.

Harvesting - What have you harvested this summer? What seeds, both actual and metaphorical, have your planted?

And preserving - Think about the fruits that you have gathered this year. How can you keep them sweet in the store of your memory?

This Wednesday, Lammas, is the first harvest. How does your garden grow? How will you answer the question, "What's for dinner?"

College writing assignments

Theory of Plato's Atomic Structure

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Date: Mon, 7 Oct 1996 21:50:22 -0400
Subject: Theory of Plato's Atomic Structure 

[ You wouldn't know it by viewing my output now, but I hated to write back in high school and college. Most of my academic career was devoted to picking courses that didn't involve 8:30AM classes, labs, or term papers. I could do very well with class participation, homework assignments, and tests, thank you very much. Not meeting on Friday or Monday was also a plus, so I could take a long weekend via Amtrak discount fare to visit my sweetie at Bryn Mawr.

It is a reflection on how interested I was in Ancient History that I took a course that met Monday Wednesday Friday at 8:30, and had two term papers. They are relevant to the discussion about Plato, so... "Sherman, set the wayback machine for 1980, and a very grumpy Union College student hammering away at a manual typerwriter, with copious amounts of white-out ready to hand!" ]

---

The Physics of Plato's Atomic Structure

Greek Philosophy
Professor Peterson

From prehistoric times, Man has wondered about the nature of the universe - when and why it was created, how it was made, where it came from, and what it is made of. The ancient Greeks hypothesized that everything was built up from four Primordial Elements: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. However Plato thought up an even more basic system, and presents it, amidst much hemming and hawing such as "...another regarding the question from another point of view, will be of another mind" (55d) or "I have given the results of my thoughts" (52d) in his Socratic Dialogue Timaeus. Here, Plato discusses a simpler system, one composed of only two discrete particles.

According to Plato, the basic units of the universe are made of triangles. Although he does hint that some, perhaps the Pythagoreans, know differently when he says "the principles which are prior to these God only knows, and he of men who is friend to God" (52d), he talks no further on the subject for the rest of the dialogue. Every rectilinear surface is composed of triangles, so they are his starting point.

Plato then asks which triangles, out of the infinite number possible, are the most basic. He chooses right triangles, saying, "all triangles are originally of two kinds, both of which are made up of one right and two acute angles." (53c-d) The geometric way to show this is to draw a line from an angle perpendicular to its opposite side. For example:

[ I'm not going to draw it in ascii, maybe I'll draw one and put it on my web page. -Carl ]

All of the right triangles can be divided into two classes: the 45 degree iscosceles right triangle, which has both acute (less than 90 degrees) equal, and the rest - which do not. He then looks for a second triangle among the second class, for reasons that which soon become apparent, and settles on what is know as the 30-60-90 triangle, where one acute angle is twice the second:

[ image]

A reason why this particular triangle was singled out, aside from the practical reasons of having the theory work out, is that the ratio of its sides is 1-2-3, the simplest after the 1-1-2 of the isosceles right triangle.

Using his two types of triangles, Plato constructs the building blocks of the universe. The isosceles triangle is arranged in a group of four, with each 90 degree angle at their joining, forming a square:

[ image]

"Six of these [equilateral quadrangles are] united [to] form eight solid [three dimentional] right angles, each of which is made by the combination of three plane right angles, the figure of the body thus composed is a cube." (55b-c) He then moves to the scalene triangle for the remaining three solids. However, they do not directly make up the plane faces. Instead, six 30-60-90 triangles form a larger equilateral triangle:

[ image]

four triangles form the tetrahedron, eight make the octahedron, and twenty the icosahedron.

Having constructed four of the five regular solids, Plato assigns the elements to them, saving the fifth (the dodecahedron) for a special purpose. He bases his assignment on the properties of the elements. Therefore, Earth, the most stable and unchangable of the four, is assigned the six-sided cube. The cube not only stacks the best, but also is composed of a different triangle from the first, so that it could not change into the other elements.

Conversely, Fire, Water, and Air, being built of the same 30-60-90 triangle, can be changed from one to another. "To Water we assign that one of the remaining forms [tetrahedron, octahedron, icosahedron] which is the least movable, and the most moveable of them to Fire, and to Air that which is intermediate." (56a) Also, the smallest body goes to the element which moves around the most, or Fire. According to the above two principles, Air is assigned the octahedron, and Water the icosahedron.

However, Plato's arguement on the stability of the regular solids has met with some disagreement. After two years of experimenting with polyhedra dice, it appears that the least moveable is the tetrahedron. In other words, the four-sided die is least likely to roll from one face ot the next, because of the acute angle between them, whle the the twenty-sided die, or D20 for short, is very likely to roll into places that it is difficult to retrieve it from. Further, it is remarkably easy to induce the D20 to rotate on an axis like a toy top, but it is singularly difficult to spin a tetrahedron.

On the other hand, Plato may have felt that there were no gravity, or that his atomic particles would not be affecte by it. In so, then the least massive solid, the one enclosing the smallest volume, would indeed be the least stable.

Plato briefly mentions the dodecahedron saying, "There was yet a fifth combination which God used in the deliniation of the univers with the figures of animals." (55c) The regular twelve-sided solid does not fit into the triangle theory, because its sides are pentagons, and the Pythagoreans had not found a way to construct it from triangles. Therefore, Plato assigns it to the heavens, where it will not interact with the four elements. The animals referred to are either those in the Zodiac, which seems strange because the sun does not travel all through the heavens, or those found throughout the sky. In that case, God divided up the celestial sky into twelve areas, for ease in naming the constellations.

In Timaeus, Plato talks about an atomic system of creation, based on triangles. The triangles compose the four Elements: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, which in turn make up everything else. His system is very mathematical, fitting the ideology of the Pythagoreans that 'All is Number'. Although he says often that his system is not Unchangeable Truth, engraved in stone, it seems rational, and was probably accepted, if not initially proposed, by the Pythagoreans.

[A. Excellent - Prof. Peterson]

---

The Chemistry of Plato's Atomic Structure
or, Plato's Playtoys

Greek Philosophy
Prof. Peterson

From ancient times, Man has strived to learn the basis of the universe. Nuclear physists today talk about strange colored sub-atomic particles, trying to develop a theory that will unify the known types of energy. In ancient times, men believed that all matter was composed of four elements: Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Plato, in his dialogue Timaeus, reduces the four elements to two triangles, in much the same way that the early scientists reduced the ninty-two elements to protons, neutrons, and electrons. After constructing the elements from combinations of triangles, Plato discusses the interactions of his atomic elements.

Plato talks about how the elements are transmuted into each other, after reminding the listener that his is "the most probable conclusion." (56c) Earth is never reformed into another element, because it is constructed of an isoceles triangle, but the other three are transformed according to specific formulas. Water, with twnty sides to an atom, can be changed into one atom of fire, with four sides each, and two of Air, with eight sides. (20 * 1) = (1 * 4) + (2 * 8). Also, one Air can be transformed into two Fires, and vice versa: (1 * 8) = (2 * 4). Similarly two and one half Air are transmuted to one Water: (2.5 * 8) = (1 * 20). Plato mentions experimental observations to back his calculations with: "Air, again, when inflamed, becomes fire, and, again, fire, when condensed and extinguished, passes once more into the form of air, and, once more, air, when collected and condensed, produces cloud and mist.... (49c)

Also, his proportions agree with modern chemistry's law that the ratio of chemical elements in a compound are small whole numbers. Fire is the usual cause of change. "When one of the other elements is fastened upon by fire, and is cut by the sharpness of its angles and sides, it coaleses with the fire, and then ceases to be cut by them any longer." (57a) Eventually, the smaller quantity of the various jumbled elements is decomposed into its original 30-60-90 right triangles, and is then reformed in the shape of the larger amount, much like a small crystal causes the solution it is placed in to crystalize. However, when Earth is decomposed, its isosceles triangles drift about in space until they are able to reform in peace.

Plato talks about the entropy of his mathematical universe. Before the creation of today's universe, before an Unmoved Mover moved, the elements were "full of pwoers which were neither similar nor equally balanced [and] was never in any part in any state of equipose." (52d-e) Chaos was complete, and everything was tossed hither and yon. Eventually, as like sought like, the elements were arranged in four piles, with the heaviest farthest from the lightest, "a condition one may expect to find whenever God is absent." (53b)

However, God was not absent for long, and shuffled the piles [vectoring useful energy - Prof. Peterson], moving relatively small quantities of elements into each other's heaps. Therefore, men never see pure elements. What is underneath us is merely an ore of the element Earth, with impure water on top of it, while a mixture of Air and the other elements is what we breath, but mostly pure Fire can be seen whenever a hole in the air occurs, and we see lightning.

The elements tend towards their original piles but as one Element is transformed into another, it moves towards a different place in the cosmos, "continually causing a perpetual motion of the elements in all time." (58c) In this manner, total entropy, or the death of all motion in the universe, is averted.

Plato now introduces imperfection into his mathematical unvierse, and talks about subvarieties of his elements. To forestall the arguement that only four primal elements could not create the many different substances in the visible world, he says that there are "varieties in the strucutre of the two original triangles." (57c) Not all triangles are created equal, some are bigger than others. "Hence, when they are mingled with themselves and with one another there is an endless variety of them...." (57d) However, one can now say that there exists a tetrahedron of Fire that has more volume than an icosahedron of Water composed of smaller triangles, and contradict Plato's earlier intention of assigning Fire the smallest polyhedra.

Plato says there are "diverse kinds of fire," (58c) and mentions three: flame, as from a candle, light which does not burn, and the red glow coals emit. Flame probably has the smallest triangles, in order to have the sharpest corners and angles, while pure light would have the largest, with red glow in between, as it both illuminates and burns.

Air too, has many variants "which arise from the inequality of the triangles: " (58d) pure aether and misty darkness, although breathing atmosphere is probably a third.

Plato divides Water into two kinds: liquid, or fluids, and fusile, or the metals. Liquid is formed from irregular triangles and unequal icosahedra, and pours easily because some fire tetrahedra have been mixed in, and the bases roll easily. When the fire escapes to the surrounding air, the change in pressure causes the fluid to solidify. Depending on the amount of compression, and the location, hail, ice, snow, or hoarfrost is formed. (59d) Plato distinguishes four more admixtures of water and fire: wines, oils, honeys, and the acidic plant saps. He says, "they are the numerous kinds of water which have been mingled with one another and are distilled through plants which grow in earth," (59e) so perhaps these fluids have some Earth in their substance.

Fusile Water is "formed of large and uniform particles" (59d) of Water, and when Fire (ie, heat) is added, it too melts and flows on the ground. The most compact and uniform icosahedra form gold, which has been hardened by pressure from the surrounding Earth and Water. Very compressed gold is transformed into adamant, a black ore, which may be onyx or obsidian. The third metal Plato mentions is copper. He explains the verdigris that forms on old copper by saying that "there is an alloy of Earth mingled with it which, when the two parts grow old and are disunited, shows itself seperately and is called rust." (59c)

Earth is also discussed in depth. Stone or rock is formed from an initial mixture of Earth and Water, which changes to Air and is violently expelleed. The pressure on the remaining Earth causes the hardness of the rock. Perhaps volcanos are the visible signs of the expelled air; there certainly is enough new rock coming from them. Rock formed by this process that has triangles and cubes of unequal size become clay, and if the rock is heated by applying Fire, all of the remaining Water is driven out by coalesing with the Fire, and pottery is formed.

Plato says that if not all of the Water is driven out by Fire, then "a certain stone of a black color is formed." (60d) A fifth class of Earth is salts and sodas, which are fine particles of Earth mixed with large amounts of Water. As soda "is used for purging away oil and dirt" (60d) Plato may be describing soap. Finally, he talks about substances which are insoluble, but are dissolved by Fire or heating, such as parrafin or glass.

In Timaeus, Plato talks about the structure of the universe. Using a strict mathematical approach, he describes how one element is changed to another. By observing the world, he deduces that there must exist a God who has created the cosmos, keeping it from Chaos. Finally, he looks at some different chemical transformations that occur, and lists how some of the compounds around us are formed.

[ A. Clear and to the point. -Prof. Peterson.]

---

Usenet/Mail file converted on Monday, October 14, 1996 by htmlize.pl, version 1.2b3

Carl Hommel , notelrac@net1plus.com

Special Daddy Magick

Subject: "El I P" - Special Daddy Magick
Date: Mon, 20 Nov 1995 00:39:47 -0500 

Friday was a hectic day at work - but then, most days are. I spent the week clearing my desk of six Priority One tasks, and planned to upgrade two workstations with new software. This would be a happy mindless task to get me prepared for the weekend. But then, my boss got his new PowerBook laptop in! If I could get the new machine up and running, and transfer his files, I would be able to arrange a long-term loan of his old laptop.

Unboxing the computer wasn't a problem. Figuring out which cables went where wasn't a problem. Even transferring the files wasn't a problem, although it was an adventure involving three departments, two manuals, and one call to AppleSupport. No, the problem was getting my boss to sit still long enough to delete his personal and the company confidential files from my new acquisition. So, loaded down with the laptop, extra batteries, lots of cables, several floppies, all in a carryall briefcase, I headed home, eager to awe and amuse the kids with my latest toy.

One of our family's rituals is Friday dinner. I stop at the Golden Starches, or Col. Blanders Chicken Blasphemy, or the Chinese Takeout joint. Alana doesn't have to cook, and the kids get yummy healthless food to start their weekend off right. So, loaded down with burgers, fries, and processed chicken gobblets, I headed through the door, to feed and amuse my kids with their tasty num-nums.

Instead, I found chaos.

The dogs were barking. Llerendel, my 4yr old, was a shrieking teakettle. Eileen, my 8yr old, was sobbing on the couch. Carl was slouched down in the other couch. Alana was on the phone, uttering those fateful words, "Pediatrics, please. This is an emergency."

So, I calmly slung the backpack into a corner, dropped the food onto a flat surface, and picked up my noisy teakettle. She pointed to a large, but not immediately fatal splinter in her knee. I picked her up, quieting her somewhat, and heard through the shrieks Alana saying, "Glass... wrist... stitches." I did a double take, and saw that Carl was holding a large blood-soaked bandage on one arm. Performing a quick triage, I yanked out Llerendel's splinter, gave her to Alana as she got off the phone, and went to take a look at Carl.

An old fermented jar of apple juice had shattered while he was picking it up. Luckily, it was on the side of his wrist, and no nerves, tendons, or blood vessels were cut. We waited for the HMO doctor to call back, and give us permission to go to the Emergency Room. After convincing Eileen that her siblings boo-boos were not her fault, I distributed the provender I had gathered. Llerendel quieted down as quickly as a preschooler can, and started playing with her kids-meal toy. I helped Carl eat one- handed.

Carl polished off his second Burger O' Month, and started in on the Chicken Gobblets during the car ride. Since he was in mild shock, not from blood loss but from, well, the shock of the whole affair, he had had trouble walking from the house to the car, and there were no parking spaces, I decided to indulge in my sense of theater, and asked for a wheelchair. We hung out at the Emergency Room admissions desk, arguing whether a Borg Cube from Star Trek outfight a ShadowShip from Babylon 5, and finally the clerk and the triage nurse arrived at the same time.

"If you'll come this way, Mr. Hommel, I can get your insurance information while the nurse looks at Carl's wound..."

A scared Carlton, clutching Snowflake-the-only-slightly-dirty-Bear, looked up from his wheelchair. I said, "No."

From the clerk's reaction, you would have thought that I had claimed that medical care was a right to be given freely to everyone, not a privilege to be paid for. "No," I repeated, interrupting her bluster, "I'm going to stay with Carl, while the nurse looks at Carl's bandage."

Carl looked much relieved. I held his healthy hand, while the nurse unwrapped, washed, inspected, triaged, and came to the same conclusion Alana and I had - stitches required, but no permanent damage done. Carl looked up at me, and after she left asked, "How did you know I wanted you to stay with me?"

"Special Daddy Magick", I replied.

This is one of my parental phrases, like "Wait until you get older", or "In a minute", or "I'll think about it". A way of not-answering a child's question, because the explanation is not a simple one, or because you want to preserve that aura of Parental Omnipotence.

"Carlton, Eileen, turn around and go close the back door."
"How did you know it wasn't closed."
"Special Daddy Magick."

"Mom, Dad, Carlton pushed me!"
"He did not. You walked next to him, and tripped over his foot."
"How did you know? It was in the other room!"
"Special Daddy Magick."

"I wonder how they get cars into the buildings where they sell cars?"
"They roll back the roof, and lower it in by helicopter in the middle of the night."
"Wow! Neat! How did you know that?"
"Its something I learned in Daddy School."

Since children don't consider that there parents were ever anything but parents, they get quite surprised at being caught out when they repeat the same misbehaviors the parents did. That, combined with the judicious use of mirrors, listening for specific sounds, and a cursory reading of child psychology, lets me keep a half step ahead.

I thought about Special Daddy Magick, while holding Carl while they were stitching him up. This wasn't the first time I've arrived home in the middle of a crisis. Back in college, I turned the corner, and saw the roof of the house next to my apartment going up in flames. "My cats! My books! My dirty laundry!", I said, listing the important things in my life about to go up in smoke.

When Eileen was two, she meticulously plotted, planned, and executed a carefully crafted campaign worthy of Napoleon or Hannibal, to acquire Moms sharp embroidery scissors. Our reconstruction concluded that Eileen had used her potty chair, a kitchen chair, a butter knife, and a couch cushion (as a landing zone) and pulled off the lift and snatch, from a cold start, in under 30 seconds. Her path then led past the cat, who was given a stylish one-sided whisker shortening, into the bathroom, where Eileen trimmed her bangs, and then...

Alana looked down from the spaghetti pot, and saw tomato sauce all over Eileen. But wait - that wasn't sauce, it was blood! And it was all over the place! Alana dropped the spatula, and bent over as best she could, given the state of her pregnancy. Blood on Eileen's clothes, her arms, the floor, the bathroom sink - everywhere. And it kept coming, from no visible wound.

At this point, I walked in. An excited 4yr old ran to me, and Carl called, "Eileen boo- boo! Eileen boo-boo!" I saw blood all over the kitchen floor, smelled the spaghetti pot bubbling over, and heard shrieking from the bathroom. Turning off the stove, I went into the bathroom, saw both Eileen and Alana covered in blood, and heard Alana say, "I can't find where the blood is coming from." Making a Decisive Daddy Decision, I picked Eileen up, plopped her in the tub, clothes and all, and turned on the water faucet. Ten seconds of warm water later, we determined that the mess was coming from the tip of Eileen's finger. She had snipped off a quarter inch from the end.

A few seconds pressure with a gauze pad, and the situation quieted down dramatically. Alana retired to regroup her shattered nerves, with a meek, changed, toweled off, and snugly Eileen fighting an unborn Gwen for lap space. I finished preparing dinner, and Crisis was averted.

So, I thought as I held Carl, why I would I be coming home in the nick of time like this? I'm not getting home ahead of time, I'm not getting home after the paramedics have been called - I'm walking through the door just as I'm needed. And then it struck me - Special Daddy Magick!

I develop a resonance with a place after I've been living there a while. I spend much more time setting up my office furnishings after changing cubicles than most engineers, and do my best work in familiar surroundings. It isn't all one-way. Call me anthropomorphic, but just as I get support from my Spots, sometimes my Spots call out to me. Which I'll call magick.

The "Special Daddy" part comes in because the Spot is not merely a physical location, like my desk, or a cyberspace location, like starshine.mrst.com, but a social location - my family. I'm going to have to get used to arriving in the nick of time, just as chaos breaks out.

This sort of bonding is intensified by daily rituals relating to the family, just as some of you perform daily rituals relating to your faith. Each ritual has its own spot. Now, every childhood development book will say that repetition, and the establishment of routine, and daily rituals are a vital necessity for the growth of a child, and so forth - but I'd like to talk about some that I perform Intentionally, as part of a Work, to bring forth this "Special Daddy Magick".

Now, Alana is a Roman Catholic, but many of their rituals are posited towards the same strengthening. They just use different terminology. "Guardian Angels" or "Patron Saints" are doing the spiritual overwatch tasks. In our household, Alana and I share rituals that we both are comfortable with.

The first, and most obvious ritual, is going to Church. We haven't gone lately, due to Alana's health, but the sounds and smells of the Catholic Mass sink some pretty powerful hooks in a child's growth. As a counterbalance, I take Carl or Eileen out at night, to Gwen and Francis' graveside, wrap up in blankets, watch the Moon and Stars, talk about the Seasons, and discuss their missing siblings. It is a Special Time Alone with Daddy.

We have been using the furor over Pocahontas, and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, to talk about how life really was during the Colonial Period. I got across the point that while the indigenous peoples of the American Continent, the misnamed "Indians", lived a lifestyle suited to the Land, the cultural, religious, and farming lifestyles of the peoples of the European Continent did not. The European settlers faced a choice - they could either adapt Native American ways, like the lost Roanoke Colony did, or change the Land. They chose the latter, and part of the Neo-Pagan ethos is to open a dialogue with the Modern Consumer Culture, on the ramifications of that long-ago decision.

Finally, the births and deaths in our family have been a lesson in the cycles of nature. What with the isolation of the American Nuclear Family, and the small size of most families, most kids nowadays have little experience with either Birth or Death. Alana has been pregnant every two years, and Carl and Eileen see no reason why she shouldnt continue this until they move out. (Alana and I have other ideas, relating to finances, energy, room, and ecological impact, which they consider quite unimportant.) Each time, we drag out the same old Prepare Your Child For Pregnancy books. Each time, we buy a few new ones, as the kids get older, and gain a greater appreciation of the cycles of Birth and Death affect humans, as well as animals and the Seasons.

You've probably participated in group rituals with other adults, where energy was gathered to celebrate, renew, enrich, or heal those parts of your life that make you a Pagan. Consider how these same practices can be done as part of your day to day family life, too.

---

Usenet/Mail file converted on Wednesday, January 3, 1995 by by htmlize.pl, version 1.2b3

A visit to the Museum of Fine Arts May, 2006

Monet
Morning on the Seine
Boulevard Saint-Denis (Arrangement in Winter)
Valley of the Creuse (Grey Day)

John Constable
Stour Valley & Dedham Church

Jan Van Huysum
Vase of Flowers in a Niche

Roelant Jacobsz Savery
Forest Scene with Hunters

Francisco de Zurbaran
St Francis

Lyonel Feininger
Regler Church, Erfurt
Street in Paris (Houses in Paris)

Albert Renger-Patzsch
Trees (from Die Welt ist Schon)

John Singer Sargent
A Capriote

Renoir
Mixed Flower in an Earthenware Pot

Van Gogh
Ravine

Critique of first three chapters of a novel

Thank you for sending me the first three chapters of your manuscript. I am somewhat handicapped in this critique by not having a synopsis of the rest, so I do not fully grasp where your story is going. Is this an apocalyptic tale, where everyone either dies or is condemned to an eternity of torment? Is it a story of redemption, where the Unhallowed One is saved by the faith and love of the Saint? Is it a romance story, where the two protagonists meet, fight, argue, bicker, reject each other, only to be pulled together at the end? Without knowing where you are going, I run the risk of trying to pigeonhole your story into the wrong genre.

Likewise, I'm unsure what your target audience is. Are you hoping to get published by one of the speculative fiction Big Three (Del Ray, Baen, or Tor)? Are you going for a smaller press, like Mikademia or WotC? Are you going to try and self publish via a books-on-demand publisher? Without knowing this, it is hard for me to say how ready your manuscript is for publication. For example, I'm pretty sure that it would be rejected by Del Ray and Baen, because they don't do this kind of dark, depressing fantasy. Tor would reject it for reasons I'll get into below. But if you are targeting a small press I don't know about that specializes in your type of work, I may be making critical comments about parts of your MS that would not be an issue. You might want to look over http://www.otherworlds.net/links.htm .

I'll start by saying that I enjoyed reading the chapters. You have done an impressive amount of worldbuilding. In the first three chapters, you inform the reader of a epoch-spanning historical struggle between the gods and men. While the conflict does suffer from a cliched "evil god vs all the rest", the reason it is a cliche is because people like reading of this sort of struggle. The twist you are adding to the stock situation is that your protagonist appears to be on the "dark side". Unfortunately, without the synopsis, I don't know whether he'll fall (like Anakin), or prevail (like Luke.)

The story themes appear to be a fairly traditional mix. We have the "coming-of-age" of Rage. We have the "collect the plot tokens" theme. The "gather companions on life's journey" theme. A romance genre relationship between two characters. What makes this stand out above these ho hum cliches is the leaning that in this story, Evil might actually prevail.

Reading your prose is not syntactically difficult. You know how to punctuate dialog correctly. You introduce your characters with enough description, spread over time, for the reader to begin the process of identification. Your sentences and paragraphs flow together. You are able to lay out events in chronological fashion. In other words, you know your craft as a writer. If you've read enough fanfiction or other works by beginners, you know that you avoid most of the pitfalls and pratfalls of novice writers.

Likewise, you are pretty successful maintaining your point of view and avoiding "pov faults." There are only a few places where you put into the story information that your protagonist, the pov character, would not know.

There are many other problems that unpublished authors fall prey to, and a whole jargon created to describe them. Tom Swifties, eyeball emoting, mirror descriptions, "too, many, commas", temporal cues, and so forth. For the most part, you avoid them or at least don't cram too many into an individual paragraph. See the Turkey Lexicon at http://www.otherworlds.net/turkey.htm for details.

Your greatest strength is a wonderful ability to describe a gritty city or dank forest in a way that allows a reader to easily place themselves in the scene. When I was reading about the pit bar in the first chapter, I jumped when someone came up behind me unexpectedly. I've gone camping, and your description of the rain and the mud and the gloom of the forest made me remember the appeal of a roof and bed.

I particularly liked the "tests" in the third chapter. I consider these scenes the strongest of all the MS. Wow, but you have a vivid and dark imagination. When your protagonist jumped into the test and experienced the struggles, I felt like I was right there. Many descriptions of fell demons and nether beasts leave me going, "yeah, right, ho hum another D&D Type 5 demon", but when you talk about a dramog, I'm glad I'm only reading someone else's story.

OK, enough building up your ego. My view of the purpose of a critique is to provide you my opinions of how you can improve this story specifically, and your writing in general, so that you can reach a wider audience. And get invited to all the cool parties at conventions. You've probably had the experience of giving your MS to friends or family members, and having them say "I liked it. It was good." But that sort of feedback doesn't help you get better.

So, while the paragraphs above focused on what I think you're doing well, the next section will describe what I think are the shortcomings of the manuscript, and the areas where I think you should focus on to try and improve as a writer. Remember, since I'm not sure of your genre or target audience, some of the things I critique may not apply for this story. I'm also not saying, "Don't quit your day job" or that your story is unsalvageable or that you're a rotten person with a twisted psyche that needs serious psychiatric intervention. :-)

I'm saying that there is room for improvidence in this story and in your overall writing style. Likewise, this should not be viewed as the end of the process. I would encourage you to read the rest of the critique, and then do something else for a day or two. You will probably feel the impulse to sit down and write a response to some of the points I make or answer some of the questions I'm asking. But most authors who engage in this sort of online critting method find that letting the criticism sit in their minds for a day or two allows them to get beyond the initial shock of someone pointing out flaws.

With that said, on with the "critical" part of the critique.

I'll start by saying that your MS has a variety of structural problems with it. If you are going for a mainstream publisher, I'm pretty confident that it needs more than a final edit and polish before it would be accepted. I've gone to workshops and dinners with professional editors and authors of Speculative Fiction, and they would have problems with many if the issues I'm about to raise.

Here's a summary of potential issues.
* First person present narrative style
* Unsympathetic protagonist
* Non-believable tension between the two main characters
* Plot holes
* Worldbuilding issues
* Too many prepositional phrases
* Confusing flashbacks and chronology

---

You're narrative is "first person present". This is unusual. Most fiction is third person limited, with only a few being written as first person omniscient or straight first person. This is both a strength and a weakness. The strength is that it contributes to the sense of immediacy and vividness of your descriptions. It also immerses the reader into the mindset of your protagonist.

Now, your unsolicited manuscript is going to go into the "slush pile" at a publishing house. And someone underpaid staffer will read through it, same as I am doing now. Your choice of unusual narrative is going to be a strike against you. Now, you do pull it off, but it will make it that much easier for the slush reader to toss your MS into the reject pile.

A structural weakness of first person narrative is that you are constrained to only giving information that the protagonist would see, hear, taste, or hear about. Now, you pull this off for the most part. The infodumps where secondary characters inform the protagonist (and thus the reader) about the background and setting are mostly painless. Your use of flashbacks to describe incidents in the protagonist's past, while confusing, do help to round out his character.

The other major problem with a first person narrative that you have, is that the author is constrained to stick within the confines of the protagonist's prejudices and abilities. I most noticed this in one of the "tests", where you used the word "clone." While this might not be anachronistic (after all, D&D has a clone spell), I have no expectation that the protagonist would know about it. After all, he's openly dismissive of wizards and books! Similarly, the protagonist seems quite knowledgeable about the demonology of Ahem. How would a pit fighter, only interested in killing, know such things?

Now, this could easily be fixed in your text. All you would need to do is add a line or two, about how Moor bored him with such information, or how he heard night-time stories when he was a kid, or how the sailors whispered tales on shipboard. But if you look, you'll probably find other places in the text where your protagonist is more knowledgeable than he would.

One suggestion I will make for you is to alternate between different styles. I certainly feel the "test" sequence should stay in first person present. That's the best writing, and is certainly worth being read by a larger audience. You can also write the flashbacks in first person past, to signal the time shift. But I think the bulk of the story would benefit from third person limited. (Let me know if you don't understand these terms, and I'll send you a URL.)

In fact, writing some of the chapters from the Moor or Psyfa's point of view, letting us know their internal motivations, would go a long way towards resolving my second issue.

---

Which is, that you have a an unsympathetic character. I feel this problem alone would get you a rejection letter from the major publishing houses.

Again, I don't know your target audience, but if you're going for a mainstream audience, the reader is going to say, "Why do I want to keep reading about this guy?" You do such a good job of portraying the protagonist as a bigoted sociopath killer with no hobbies, interests, or redeeming characteristics that I want to put the book down and go read something else.

While reading your story, I was comparing him to other characters. At first, I thought of Conan. Not the one from the movies or the comics or the versions of him that were written by de Camp or others, but the original Conan as set down by Robert Howard. Or Bran Mac Cormac, or King Kull, by the same author. Or some of the characters from the Dread Empire or Black Company series by Glen Cook. Or even the first few Gor books by John Norman, when he was still writing fantasy and not S&M.

Yet, all of those characters have something that the reader can relate to. Conan retains a sense of "barbarian" honor. Kull has a noble regalness. The members of the Black Company have an "us against the world" mentality. Tarl Cabot was an ordinary guy from our world when he was immersed in Gor. Unfortunately, from my perspective, there is no reason for me to keep reading about your character. I found myself wishing that you'd kill him off, so I could find out more about your world from another character's perspective.

---

I kept getting jarred out of my sense of immersion by how your characters related to each other. People I know don't behave like that. I think I can put it best by asking bluntly, "Is your protagonist gay?"

I mean, he must be either gay or asexual. He certainly wasn't interested in a naked elf when he first saw her, ore even when she washed the mud off. There is a certain amount of "subtext" between him and Moor. There are hints later on that he is attracted not only by the spiritual purity of Psyfa, but her physical body as well.

Now, this may be because you're going for a market that caters to young boys (probably about 9-13) who find girls icky, and are more interested in reading about decapitation than fornication.

Likewise, you do not give any reason for her to follow him around. When he asks, "Why didn't you stay in the elf village? Why are you following me?" he was only asking a question that I had been wondering about for many, many pages.

Again, this could be relatively easy or very hard to solve. You could have her answer. You can rewrite the novel so that the interpersonal byplay makes more sense.

Likewise, while you provide convincing detail about why Moor hangs out with Rage (Rage rescued him from bullies, Rage isn't impressed by his wealth or intelligence, Rage is good to have around when you're going over on the wrong side of the tracks), I have not read any reasons for why Rage hangs out with Moor.

In many different internal thought dialog, Rage expresses his disdain for wealth, intelligence, and anyone not as interested in general mayhem as he is. A common theme between the two is their overweaning ambition, but you don't give any evidence in the text of this.

Another plot artifact which undercuts any attempt at making the interpersonal relationships make sense is the revelation that the main characters are being manipulated by outside forces. First, that Larin, lurking in the background, has been channeling Rage (and Moor) for their entire lives. This discovery means that the reader cannot tell whether the characters are growing and changing throughout the story, or if they are just fulfilling someone's desire to be a controlling psychopath.

Another problem with this discovery (at least as far as I am concerned) is that Rage does draw the logical conclusion. While Larin declares that he, and he alone, is responsible for all the good things in Rage's life, Rage does not realize that Larin was also responsible for the bad things, as well. Now, the impression I've gotten of Rage through the story is that he's a big strong psychopath with poor impulse control and a decent amount of smarts. If he figures out that Larin is responsible for putting the crystal blade in Sevrin's chest, my expectation is that he would turn around and kill Larin. His failure to realize this, and take this action which would be so in character for him, feels like an authorial intrusion into the story.

Second we find out that the Gods (two competing Gods, in fact) have plans for the two romantic leads. While this explains why the two stay in close physical proximity, it totally destroys any reader identification. If Rage kills Psyfa, it won't be a demonstration of his loathing of any emotional attachments, it will be because Ahm gains the upper hand. If Psyfa soothes the savage beast and they fall in love, it won't be as a result of character growth, but because Nia gains the upper hand. At which point, most readers will feel cheated.

There are other minor plot contrivances that may not necessarily be fatal, as long as you don't overdo them. Rage just "happens" to see a scroll in the waistband of the pit fighter he kills.

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There are some worldbuilding problems with the text. Again, some of these can be solved via throwaway lines. Others might get you thinking, and deciding to rewrite great swathes of text.

The most glaring to me was your monetary system. You state that 50 sigots is more than a year's income for one of the most highly skilled pit fighters. But in the same scene, we find out that he has 2g.15s. Um... This is easily fixable by saying he only has 15s.

Continuing the economic analysis, he buys a weeks worth of travel rations for 7s. That seems normal. But after the fire, we learn that a helmet and gauntlets will cost 20 gold. (And you do use the term gold, and not sigots.) How much was the horse worth? He doesn't see concerned about that, yet in most low-tech societies, a good horse would be worth more than armor or even a good weapon.

So, I get the sense that you haven't quite worked out what the economy is. The tables in the D&D Dungeon Master's Guide are not terribly reliable, but there are probably web references that will help you out here.

Digressing a bit, the monetary problem was compounded for me by the sentence, "After a day of walking I notice that my bag of gold has a hole burnt in it and has lost some gold." I don't see how he would have only lost "some". Saying he lost all the gold, or all except one lonely sigil stuck in a seam, would make more sense.

Another worldbuilding problem leaps out in your opening sentence: "It is only a few days before the dawning of the harvest moon late in the solstice." Unless you have some strange astronomical thing going on, the "solstice" is not a month, it is a single day. And if the astronomical and agricultural calendar is based on ours, the solstice happens in summer and winter, while harvest happens closer to the equinox, in fall.

This is not a minor point. Why? Because your first sentence, first paragraph, and first page are crucial to your ability to get someone to buy your book. You will have no control over the cover illustration or back cover text or inside front cover text or the blurbs -- the publisher's marketing department owns those. So your first chance to convince someone to spend their money on your book, instead of on a movie, video game, computer game, netflix rental, etc etc etc is here. And if you make this apparent mistake here, a very large part of your potential readership (pagans, people who care about accuracy) is going to groan, close the book, put it back on the shelf at the bookstore or library, and go onto the next book. If you don't believe me, go sit in a bookstore or library for a few hours, and watch how people browse.

Having said that, I will applaud the rest of your first page. It introduces the protagonist, demonstrates that he is not a nice guy, and clearly puts your tale in the "grim 'n gritty" genre.

Another worldbuilding issue is the Game of War. It appears that the current King won it to gain the crown. Yet Rage does not wish to repeat that task, he just wants to be noticed in order to become a general. Yet he should realize that glory in the pit does not translate into strategic ability.

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My opinion is that while you do a great job of creating images, the exposition that creates those images is often clunky, wordy, or otherwise distracts from the process of getting something from inside your head to inside your reader's head. A good way to guard against this sort of thing is to read your text aloud to friends who are not interested in this genre of writing. If they start giggling or giving blank looks at certain passages, then it's overly purple and needs a rewrite. Here are some examples:

"I often sit in the One Eyed Dog, staring into the crowd, and wonder if I am overlooking my purpose."

"overlooking my purpose" is clunky and not in character for the way the narrator has been talking up until now.

"I am one of many elite fighters demonstrating an aggressive supremacy."

Ditto for "demonstrating an aggressive supremacy".

"His face reflects great pain as I strangle him; "

Well, of course it would. This is funny in a way you probably do not intend.

"His perfectly dressed, dark gray hair lies on the shoulders of his immaculately sharp looking black robe."

You're alluding to the phrase "sharp dressed", but "sharp" and "robe" do not go together.

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A problem with your text that you share in common with many writers is chronology. Since you're trying to cram so much backstory into the beginning chapters, you go back in time. Repeatedly. And sometimes your transitions are not obvious. Maybe if you tried to cut back and only have one flashback or infodump...

There is a reason why I asked for three chapters. Another problem I don't think your manuscript has, is that many writers start there story in the wrong place. Advice often given in critting workshops is "drop the first two chapters, and start... here." Without a synopsis I can't be sure, but I think starting with a fight is a good idea. Starting with a fight that foreshadows his final battle is a good idea. But if your narrative requires so many flashbacks, you may need to go more episodically, where the first chapter is a scene from his childhood on shipboard, the next his first meeting with Moor, etc. I'm not sure.

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I want to send this off this morning, so I'll sum up. Speculative Fiction is often broken down into character, exposition, backstory, description, and plot. You are very strong on description, and have a good backstory. But your plot seems rather generic, and you are definitely weak on character. Depending on your target audience, these shortcomings may not be an issue.

You would probably benefit from an online critting workshop. Face to face groups that meet once a month have the problem that people's egos get very involved, and that most people don't understand SF. Reading other people's "slush", and then describing to them what is wrong, is an excellent way to improve your own writing.

Good luck, and keep writing.

Design for Chunks

Virgin Atlantic held a contest last year for the perfect artwork for one of those necessary appurtenances of modern aviation life. I especially like #13. Pika Pika!

http://www.designforchunks.com/