If you can spare a couple of minutes, please watch this great presentation on Changing Education Paradigms from the RSA. It mentions divergent thinking and multiple solutions...
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Review - Bennett's Six Medieval Men and Women
Old School 'D&D' and games carrying on its spirit are really about characters. How they live. How they die. What principles make a brash wizard or a humble fighter go into the dark? Fortune? Glory? The challenge of fighting evil?Given these questions, which each player and DM answers in their own way, a perennial 'discussion' bounces around the Internet about a character's 'endgame'. What happens when fortune and glory are earned by a character over a course of time?
H.S. Bennett's book, Six Medieval Men & Women, can offer DM's and players some simple and accessible ideas on fleshing out the active life of a hero or heroine and basic treatments for campaign life beyond the dungeon. The book casts a light on the following lives from history (linked below to their Wikipedia articles):
- Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester
- Sir John Fastolf
- Thomas Hoccleve
- Margaret Paston (Mrs. Paston doesn't have her own Wikipedia page, but the family letters do.)
- Margery Kempe
- Richard Bradwater (in an ironic twist, the only peasant written about in the book doesn't have a Wikipedia entry. Some things never change...)
It's fair to say that much of fantasy's symbolic language is drawn from medieval Europe, particularly the original World of Greyhawk setting materials and modules which I drone on and on about. From the Greyhawk/Gygaxian corner of fantasy worlds, the personages above and the lives they lead can be particularly inspirational. As the DM is the players true 'link' to the campaign world - not the dice - the way that historical characters interact with the world around them is particularly valuable and should be studied by everyone.
From the book's text on its subjects, a DM can take away much insight:
Those who can get their hands on this book will not suffer through a dry text - the chapters aren't very long and are taken from a series of lectures. A certain 'condensation' of life is presented and each chapter reads very smoothly and quickly.From the book's text on its subjects, a DM can take away much insight:
- Humphrey's life gives insight into familial and political connections and the lives of royalty. While most adventurers don't necessarily hail from the 'upper class' strata of a game world, the rise and fall of a nobleman offers useful NPC background info. Humphrey's life suggests the value of characters building connections with the powerful, and his life offers more than a few 'slots' where adventurers 'outside the system' could gain prestige. As a member of the Order of the Garter, it ties in with chivalrous (or nefarious...) orders and how such pledges and allegiances both build stability but are rarely protection against the winds of political change. A peasant can, perhaps, rise above his station by exemplary deeds - a noble is always in the cross hairs of political intrigue and dare not ignore it.
- Falstof's life is perhaps the most valuable insight into the 'endgame' mentioned above. What does a fighting man in the service of a lord do with his wealth? At no point in the book are there mentions of strongholds or dungeons to protect huge chests filled with gold. In medieval history, wealth was invested and Sir John spent most of the latter part of his life at a desk managing the wealth and property of his lifetime. It suggests that even for the most 'epic' warrior, the 'endgame' path is one of literacy, management, dealing with subordinates and paid specialists, visiting judges and hiring clerks. In short, everything that a battlefield is not. For those players not willing to 'settle down' or seeking the 'thrill of the hunt', Falstof's life offers plenty of reason to jump at the high level challenges of distant lands, other planes, or expeditions into the unknown. This chapter is a treasure trove for a DM's campaign, and new adventurers can find several opportunities in the service of an aging adventurer trying to keep his stronghold(s) alive and healthy.
- Tom Hoccleve's life is perhaps the most antithetical to an adventurer's and yet closest to our own time period: he was a clerk. Note that, prior to the printing press, such clerks were important parts of the bureaucratic machinery of both Church and governments. Interacting with clerks to fetch or deliver documents could be a great 'pre-adventuring' career for player characters, and the bureaucratic background of a kingdom is overflowing with NPC's.
- Margaret Paston's life, as expressed in the book, puts the role of wife in the spotlight during the time period in which she lived - a time of great turbulence in England. It is a revealing chapter - showing much more of the 'feminine half of history' that rarely enters into chronicles - and portrays a character of great competence and determination holding a family and their property in her care.
- Margery Kempe's trials and tribulations will be a strike against the romantic image of adventuring clerics. She was a mystic and religious pilgrim, causing disruption in many places in her journeys, but keeping steadfast in her faith. She was married and bore fourteen children before being 'chosen' for a path of faith and pilgrimage, so she was not born into fanaticism. Her story and her sufferings along her strange and winding path is good fuel for campaigns that involve different faiths and service to gods. An adventurer without a weapon, and a traveller without a fixed destination, her gifts and the responses those gifts evoked are certainly great material.
- Finally, Richard Bradwater's chapter gives us a tiny glimpse into a peasant 'hellraiser' and troublemaker. This chapter's value to a DM isn't just the glimpse - it is the description of the background of courts, grievances, and 'official' interaction between peasant and ruler that is of greatest value. If the 'endgame' of a character is to be discussed, then the institution and maintenance of justice and order through a regular 'court' structure is something worth paying attention to.
Bennett's LibraryThing Link
Friday, January 21, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The Reality of Fantasy
"One's real life is so often the life that one does not lead." -- Oscar Wilde
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Ziegler's The Black Death
Chance favors only those who court her.
I was thinking recently about a well known 'elemental temple' and it's fungal demonic 'lady', I started reading about fungi, disease, and planes of existence. I thought about the role that disease could play to an agrarian culture, and how the failure of a single year's crop could send ripples forward that could doom a small village. Life. Death. Poison. Crops. Cycles. Growth without Mind. Panic. Fear. I was lucky enough, in this state of mind, to find a used copy of Philip Ziegler's The Black Death.
There are a few things that truly define the wonderful, beautiful yet troubled abstraction known as Western Civilization. The shift from polytheism to monotheism would be one. The scientific method would be another. The printing press. Seafaring. Electric light to push back The Night.
One of the most significant is the Black Death, or more appropriately, the effects of the Black Death on how we think, how we behave, and what we believe in.
Ziegler's text, written in 1969, offers a comfortable readability and is not a 'dry history book', as the events of the Black Death that are not his primary focus. Rather, the real 'subject' of the book is the Plague's aftermath and impact. Things happened in Europe between the years 1348 and 1350 that were a lot more than just a body count.
The Short Review
Buy it and read it. I highly recommend this book to anyone with an interest in history. As someone who 'drones on an on about modules', I strongly urge DM's to read this and consider Gygaxian D&D, and Greyhawk materials, in this time period. A Gygaxian-flavored campaign is strangely like Europe before the spread of the Plague, even though much of the game's worlds fall within an 'ascendant/post-apocalyptic' symbolic base.
Image below from Wikimedia
The Longer Review
Just some brief information from the book's text.
Chapter 1: Origins and Nature - A background of what the pandemic really was, and its three forms (attacking the flesh, blood, and breath). It mentions the ecological disruptions in the Far East, which combined with the Little Ice Age, caused a friendly stage for a pandemic. It is significant that the concept of an airborne disease clouded investigations into the cause and spread of the illnesses during the period, as only one of the three forms was truly airborne
Chapter 2: The State of Europe is a concise look at the stage set prior to the Plague's wrath, and it was already a grim stage. Civilization in Europe had, in a sense, stalled. Climactic catastrophes and conflict over resources were already putting 'the West' in peril. To quote the text:
“The most grave consequence was a series of disastrous harvests. There were famines in England in 1272, 1277, 1283, 1292 and 1311.” which, added to the overpopulation and under cultivation of resources was already a disaster in the making and Zeigler mentions the fallacy of considering the Black Death to be a natural counterbalance to overpopulation like a Malthusian Catastrophe.
Other chapters go into more detail about different countries and how they reacted and are listed below:
- Italy
- France: the State of Medical Knowledge
- The rest of Continental Europe
- Arrival in England: the West Country
- Progress Across the South
- Sussex, Kent and East Anglia
- The Midlands and the North of England
- The Welsh Borders, Wales, Ireland, and Scotland
- The Toll in Lives
- The Social and Economic Consequences
- Education, Agriculture and Architecture
Of special note to our context of classic D&D are a few select chapters from the text's coverage of this horrible period of time:
- Chapter 5 - Germany: the Flagellants and the Persecution of the Jews covers the inevitable downward spiral mix of faith, desperation, and breakdowns of order. In reading about the Flagellants, you will see echoes of every 'evil cult' that ripples through classic D&D materials, only much more severe. The frightening parts of this chapter aren't the activities that took place during that time (including self-mutilation and attempts at resurrection of corpses) or the Church's eventual suppression of them. The horror is that these weren't 'evil' people at all - they represented a penitent fanaticism and an attempt to create the 'divine miracle cure' by cleansing away sin. In spite of the beliefs of the time, the data suggests that the Church did not fail, overall, to attend to the sick and the poor: records indicate the Church sustained very heavy losses of personnel to the Plague. Unfortunately, as the Clergy represented a pillar of social order that often contained the only educated persons for miles, their absence and dwindling numbers offered fewer hands that could write, fewer eyes that could read, and fewer minds that could inspire.
When even the penitent fanaticism failed, scapegoating of Europeans who were Jewish, Arab, or even lepers became common as lawlessness took hold. The Kosher diet was a very good defense against consuming contaminated meat, and persecution of Jews seen as 'suspicious survivors' swept through many of the areas ravaged by plague. Both of these horrors are useful reading for a game world that takes evil and brutality seriously.
- For anyone creating a medieval city, Chapter 9 London: Hygiene and the Medieval City is bound to be of great use to build more detail into the day to day living of the time period, particularly at a time of crisis. London was ravaged. I'll quote from this chapter:
“Not only had many of the efficient cleaners died or deserted their post and the machinery for the enforcement of the law been strained beyond its capacities but also technical problem of transporting something over twenty thousand corpses to the burial grounds had an imposed an extra and unexpected burden on the skeleton force which remained”
- In Chapter 17 The Effects on the Church and Man's Mind, Zeigler confronts the real object of his quest: what did the Black Death do the survivors? I offer below some quotes from the text:
“The villagers observed with interest that the parish priest was just likely, indeed more likely, to die of the plague than his parishioners. God's wrath seemed just as hot against Church as against people: a significant commentary on those preachers who denounced all their fellows with such tedious zest. [...] That the parson was mortal, everyone knew, that he ate, drank, defecated and in due course died. Often, indeed, he came from the same village as his flock and had relations living near him to testify that he was but flesh and blood. Yet, with his ordination, surely he acquired too a touch of the superhuman; remained a man but became a man apart? After the plague, his vulnerability so strikingly exposed, all trace of the superhuman must have vanished.”
Unfortunately, like in any crisis, those of heroic nobility really do give their lives for their beliefs, and those that remain are, perhaps, less likely to die to save their neighbor. This affected the medieval Church, in addition to the massive amounts of wealth that were willed to it from wealthier patrons (in some cases, whole families were wiped out, leaving no heirs).
Further, monastic orders took a huge hit during the Plague. While there was a certain safety to 'run for the hills', a monastery's cloistered environs had no hope of stopping certain types of the plague, particularly infected livestock.
In general, much anti-clerical philosophy is borne of this era, and Medieval man felt the Church had failed him. Without free flow of information and record keeping, the isolation of villages from each other meant that any information was hearsay, if any came at all.
Socially, the massive decline in the numbers making up the labor pool caused a massive shift in the relationship between landowner and laborer. This culminated in the Peasant's Revolt, which Zeigler sees as a direct result of this shift. Indeed, our modern definition of 'social unrest' or 'revolt' could be spawned from this.
(On a personal note, I found this chapter to be integral to understanding the spawn of Colonization and the search for the New World (relating to my C1 posts). It's almost like, unable to combat God's Wrath, those that 'conquered' the New World had, in fact, found 'Eden' and committed a terrible revenge against the 'Adam and Eve' that they found there.)
In Chapter 13: The Plague in a Medieval Village, Zeigler hits what I consider the high point: an attempt to theoretically model a real village during the spread of the Plague. It is classic 'worldbuilding' and presents the imaginary village of Blakwater. A few quotes from the text:
“It was entertaining to listen to the tale of travellers in the same spirit as, to-day, one might crowd to hear the words of an astronaut; but only the romantic or the reckless actually want to go to the moon and the inhabitant of Blakwater was no more likely to want to go to London or to Calais.”
“Though Roger himself made a point of keeping the domestic animals out of the house this was by no means an invariable rule. In some of the houses goats, sheep and sometimes even cows lived jumbled up with the family, spreading their fleas amid the soiled straw and adding their smells to the rich compound which the medieval household could generate without such extra help.”
“[...] on the fringe of the village, a ramshackle hovel provided shelter of a sort for poor Mad Meg; deformed from birth, shunned by her contemporaries and now grown crazed in squalid loneliness. Some said that she was a witch and the children used to enjoy chanting rude slogans outside her hut but nobody seriously believed that she could make successful mischief.”
“With the parson's death and the steward away the steward's clerk was the only villager left who knew how to read and write.”
You get the idea. What happens to these... characters reads like a good piece of background text for an adventure, and yet plumbs the depths of horror in a world without access to the magic that is so integral to tabletop fantasy and its roots in pulp writings.
Connections
The subject of this book relates directly to your gaming for a few reasons:
Gaming and gambling have a long history, but by the 1400's were becoming almost epidemic. Rolling the bones - pitting fate against Chance, became extremely popular in Europe after the Black Death. Gaming continues, but it's interesting that despite the adversity D&D suffered decades ago, no one attacked it as a 'game of chance', even though players really do put their fate in the hands of dice rolls.
While many classic D&D adventures seem like 'natural snapshots', I would submit that, from a historical perspective, they reflect the 'pre-Plague' Europe hovering at the edge of disaster and needing heroes while also being 'post apocalyptic and ascendant'. Is Greyhawk a schizophrenic environment or a conflicted one? I believe it's neither and part of the 'glow' of the classic adventures is, in truth, a dual-themed game world: a place existing before one disaster, but after a previous one.
Finally, note that most of the multitudes that were slain by the Black Death were peasants, raised without education in a time of faith and living in small villages rich with folklore. Did their parents, in an attempt to keep them close to home and safe, fill their imaginations with 'monsters in the forest' or 'goblins in those caves by the creek'? They have no grave markers, and in some cases, no records of their existence. Did they, working the fields by day, dream of being heroes?
If so, then the popular fantasy theme of 'a nobody rising to become a hero' may be something imprinted on us from this terrible period of time. What did a peasant child dream of in 1348?
Are you playing out the dreams of the lost and nameless dead? Are you silently fulfilling their wishes when you role up a character?
Something to think about in a New Year.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Old Mattel Commercials +1
Labels:
Beholder,
Beholder Origins,
Billy Mumy,
DnD,
Mattel,
Terry Kuntz,
TOYS
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Ooh. Looky Here: "Animated Scarecrow Unit"
Monday, November 29, 2010
"The Olympians"
THE GOLDEN AGE
By Kenneth Grahame
PROLOGUE: THE OLYMPIANS
"Looking back to those days of old, ere the gate shut behind me, I can see now that to children with a proper equipment of parents these things would have worn a different aspect. But to those whose nearest were aunts and uncles, a special attitude of mind may be allowed. They treated us, indeed, with kindness enough as to the needs of the flesh, but after that with indifference (an indifference, as I recognise, the result of a certain stupidity), and therewith the commonplace conviction that your child is merely animal. At a very early age I remember realising in a quite impersonal and kindly way the existence of that stupidity, and its tremendous influence in the world; while there grew up in me, as in the parallel case of Caliban upon Setebos, a vague sense of a ruling power, wilful and freakish, and prone to the practice of vagaries--"just choosing so:" as, for instance, the giving of authority over us to these hopeless and incapable creatures, when it might far more reasonably have been given to ourselves over them. These elders, our betters by a trick of chance, commanded no respect, but only a certain blend of envy--of their good luck--and pity--for their inability to make use of it. Indeed, it was one of the most hopeless features in their character (when we troubled ourselves to waste a thought on them: which wasn't often) that, having absolute licence to indulge in the pleasures of life, they could get no good of it. They might dabble in the pond all day, hunt the chickens, climb trees in the most uncompromising Sunday clothes; they were free to issue forth and buy gunpowder in the full eye of the sun--free to fire cannons and explode mines on the lawn: yet they never did any one of these things. No irresistible Energy haled them to church o' Sundays; yet they went there regularly of their own accord, though they betrayed no greater delight in the experience than ourselves.
On the whole, the existence of these Olympians seemed to be entirely void of interests, even as their movements were confined and slow, and their habits stereotyped and senseless. To anything but appearances they were blind. For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, wonderful!) simply produced so many apples and cherries: or it didn't, when the failures of Nature were not infrequently ascribed to us. They never set foot within fir-wood or hazel-copse, nor dreamt of the marvels hid therein. The mysterious sources--sources as of old Nile--that fed the duck-pond had no magic for them. They were unaware of Indians, nor recked they anything of bisons or of pirates (with pistols!), though the whole place swarmed with such portents. They cared not about exploring for robbers' caves, nor digging for hidden treasure. Perhaps, indeed, it was one of their best qualities that they spent the greater part of
their time stuffily indoors.
To be sure, there was an exception in the curate, who would receive unblenching the information that the meadow beyond the orchard was a prairie studded with herds of buffalo, which it was our delight, moccasined and tomahawked, to ride down with those whoops that announce the scenting of blood. He neither laughed nor sneered, as the Olympians would have done; but possessed of a serious idiosyncrasy, he would contribute such lots of valuable suggestion as to the pursuit of this particular sort of big game that, as it seemed to us, his mature age and eminent position could scarce have been attained without a practical knowledge of the creature in its native lair. Then, too, he was always ready to constitute himself a hostile army or a band of marauding Indians on the shortest possible notice: in brief, a distinctly able man, with talents, so far as we could judge, immensely above the majority. I trust he is a bishop by this time,--he had all the necessary qualifications, as we knew.
These strange folk had visitors sometimes,--stiff and colourless Olympians like themselves, equally without vital interests and intelligent pursuits: emerging out of the clouds, and passing away again to drag on an aimless existence somewhere out of our ken. Then brute force was pitilessly applied. We were captured, washed, and forced into clean collars: silently submitting, as was our wont, with more contempt than anger. Anon, with unctuous hair and faces stiffened in a conventional grin, we sat and listened to the usual platitudes. How could reasonable people spend their precious time so? That was ever our wonder as we bounded forth at last--to the old clay-pit to make pots, or to hunt bears among the hazels.
It was incessant matter for amazement how these Olympians would talk over our heads--during meals, for instance--of this or the other social or political inanity, under the delusion that these pale phantasms of reality were among the importances of life. We illuminati, eating silently, our heads full of plans and conspiracies, could have told them what real life was. We had just left it outside, and were all on fire to get back to it. Of course we didn't waste the revelation on them; the futility of imparting our ideas had long been demonstrated. One in thought and purpose, linked by the necessity of combating one hostile fate, a power antagonistic ever,--a power we lived to evade,--we had no confidants save ourselves. This strange anaemic order of beings was further removed from us, in fact, than the kindly beasts who shared our natural existence in the sun. The estrangement was fortified by an abiding sense of injustice, arising from the refusal of the Olympians ever to defend, retract, or admit themselves in the wrong, or to accept similar concessions on our part. For instance, when I flung the cat out of an upper window (though I did it from no ill-feeling, and it didn't hurt the cat), I was ready, after a moment's reflection, to own I was wrong, as a gentleman should. But was the matter allowed to end there? I trow not. Again, when Harold was locked up in his room all day, for assault and battery upon a neighbour's pig,--an action he would have scorned, being indeed on the friendliest terms with the porker in question,--there was no handsome expression of regret on the discovery of the real culprit. What Harold had felt was not so much the imprisonment,--indeed he had very soon escaped by the window, with assistance from his allies, and had only gone back in time for his release,--as the Olympian habit. A word would have set all right; but of course that word was never spoken.
Well! The Olympians are all past and gone. Somehow the sun does not seem to shine so brightly as it used; the trackless meadows of old time have shrunk and dwindled away to a few poor acres. A saddening doubt, a dull suspicion, creeps over me. Et in Arcadia ego,--I certainly did once inhabit Arcady. Can it be I too have become an Olympian?"
Pablo Picasso: “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.”
WIKI LINK for Kenneth Grahame
By Kenneth Grahame
PROLOGUE: THE OLYMPIANS
"Looking back to those days of old, ere the gate shut behind me, I can see now that to children with a proper equipment of parents these things would have worn a different aspect. But to those whose nearest were aunts and uncles, a special attitude of mind may be allowed. They treated us, indeed, with kindness enough as to the needs of the flesh, but after that with indifference (an indifference, as I recognise, the result of a certain stupidity), and therewith the commonplace conviction that your child is merely animal. At a very early age I remember realising in a quite impersonal and kindly way the existence of that stupidity, and its tremendous influence in the world; while there grew up in me, as in the parallel case of Caliban upon Setebos, a vague sense of a ruling power, wilful and freakish, and prone to the practice of vagaries--"just choosing so:" as, for instance, the giving of authority over us to these hopeless and incapable creatures, when it might far more reasonably have been given to ourselves over them. These elders, our betters by a trick of chance, commanded no respect, but only a certain blend of envy--of their good luck--and pity--for their inability to make use of it. Indeed, it was one of the most hopeless features in their character (when we troubled ourselves to waste a thought on them: which wasn't often) that, having absolute licence to indulge in the pleasures of life, they could get no good of it. They might dabble in the pond all day, hunt the chickens, climb trees in the most uncompromising Sunday clothes; they were free to issue forth and buy gunpowder in the full eye of the sun--free to fire cannons and explode mines on the lawn: yet they never did any one of these things. No irresistible Energy haled them to church o' Sundays; yet they went there regularly of their own accord, though they betrayed no greater delight in the experience than ourselves.
On the whole, the existence of these Olympians seemed to be entirely void of interests, even as their movements were confined and slow, and their habits stereotyped and senseless. To anything but appearances they were blind. For them the orchard (a place elf-haunted, wonderful!) simply produced so many apples and cherries: or it didn't, when the failures of Nature were not infrequently ascribed to us. They never set foot within fir-wood or hazel-copse, nor dreamt of the marvels hid therein. The mysterious sources--sources as of old Nile--that fed the duck-pond had no magic for them. They were unaware of Indians, nor recked they anything of bisons or of pirates (with pistols!), though the whole place swarmed with such portents. They cared not about exploring for robbers' caves, nor digging for hidden treasure. Perhaps, indeed, it was one of their best qualities that they spent the greater part of
their time stuffily indoors.
To be sure, there was an exception in the curate, who would receive unblenching the information that the meadow beyond the orchard was a prairie studded with herds of buffalo, which it was our delight, moccasined and tomahawked, to ride down with those whoops that announce the scenting of blood. He neither laughed nor sneered, as the Olympians would have done; but possessed of a serious idiosyncrasy, he would contribute such lots of valuable suggestion as to the pursuit of this particular sort of big game that, as it seemed to us, his mature age and eminent position could scarce have been attained without a practical knowledge of the creature in its native lair. Then, too, he was always ready to constitute himself a hostile army or a band of marauding Indians on the shortest possible notice: in brief, a distinctly able man, with talents, so far as we could judge, immensely above the majority. I trust he is a bishop by this time,--he had all the necessary qualifications, as we knew.
These strange folk had visitors sometimes,--stiff and colourless Olympians like themselves, equally without vital interests and intelligent pursuits: emerging out of the clouds, and passing away again to drag on an aimless existence somewhere out of our ken. Then brute force was pitilessly applied. We were captured, washed, and forced into clean collars: silently submitting, as was our wont, with more contempt than anger. Anon, with unctuous hair and faces stiffened in a conventional grin, we sat and listened to the usual platitudes. How could reasonable people spend their precious time so? That was ever our wonder as we bounded forth at last--to the old clay-pit to make pots, or to hunt bears among the hazels.
It was incessant matter for amazement how these Olympians would talk over our heads--during meals, for instance--of this or the other social or political inanity, under the delusion that these pale phantasms of reality were among the importances of life. We illuminati, eating silently, our heads full of plans and conspiracies, could have told them what real life was. We had just left it outside, and were all on fire to get back to it. Of course we didn't waste the revelation on them; the futility of imparting our ideas had long been demonstrated. One in thought and purpose, linked by the necessity of combating one hostile fate, a power antagonistic ever,--a power we lived to evade,--we had no confidants save ourselves. This strange anaemic order of beings was further removed from us, in fact, than the kindly beasts who shared our natural existence in the sun. The estrangement was fortified by an abiding sense of injustice, arising from the refusal of the Olympians ever to defend, retract, or admit themselves in the wrong, or to accept similar concessions on our part. For instance, when I flung the cat out of an upper window (though I did it from no ill-feeling, and it didn't hurt the cat), I was ready, after a moment's reflection, to own I was wrong, as a gentleman should. But was the matter allowed to end there? I trow not. Again, when Harold was locked up in his room all day, for assault and battery upon a neighbour's pig,--an action he would have scorned, being indeed on the friendliest terms with the porker in question,--there was no handsome expression of regret on the discovery of the real culprit. What Harold had felt was not so much the imprisonment,--indeed he had very soon escaped by the window, with assistance from his allies, and had only gone back in time for his release,--as the Olympian habit. A word would have set all right; but of course that word was never spoken.
Well! The Olympians are all past and gone. Somehow the sun does not seem to shine so brightly as it used; the trackless meadows of old time have shrunk and dwindled away to a few poor acres. A saddening doubt, a dull suspicion, creeps over me. Et in Arcadia ego,--I certainly did once inhabit Arcady. Can it be I too have become an Olympian?"
Pablo Picasso: “Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up.”
WIKI LINK for Kenneth Grahame
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Questions & Answers
I have noted that some fans who have specific questions about my works, history, etc. have been posting at the Old PPP Forums. Unfortunately I do not frequent them with any regularity and do not wish to continue to post at YUKU as the information posted there cannot be retrieved. Repeat: Yuku traps your information and there is no way of mining it off of the site so far as Scottz and I have determined.
If you have questions please either e-mail me (click my profile here for the e-mail address); or, post your questions on Dragonsfoot in my Q&A section. Though PPP's boards were established in 2002, I have been active on DF since 2004, so there are lots of questions already answered and a lot more to come. If you don't already have an account there it's pretty easy to get one.
Here's the LINK.
Thanks for being great fans, by the way!! :)
If you have questions please either e-mail me (click my profile here for the e-mail address); or, post your questions on Dragonsfoot in my Q&A section. Though PPP's boards were established in 2002, I have been active on DF since 2004, so there are lots of questions already answered and a lot more to come. If you don't already have an account there it's pretty easy to get one.
Here's the LINK.
Thanks for being great fans, by the way!! :)
Friday, November 26, 2010
BROADSIDE #1
News from the Orlando Skolarlee Review!
In an openly closed meeting, members of the Orlando Skolarlee Review previewed some of their most strikingly striking case studies to date! Here is the minutia of the meeting as overseen by Jimmie Cracked Corn and fellows.
Commentary by JCC unless otherwise noted.
Greyhawk Stonefist Research.
Note an advertisement (left) that I have been studying for the past 2 years. It's an old one from a Pleasure Faire. Did I ever tell you that I never attended it? But I would have liked to. I would have been the guy on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, of course, but that is neither here nor there, now or then. I just like those sort of Faires, of course. Do you like Faires? Please tell me and maybe I'll pen an article or fifteen on them!
But back to my latest discovery! Of course you can tell me if it is a discovery or not, but I sure think it is. I really love discovering things, you know. Don't you? I believe it relates to curiosity the more I think about it. Curious thing curiosity. Don't you think so?
Now for the meat. I just knew that my continuing research might pay off. Note the upper left shield and its heraldry. Seem familiar to you? Take your time, let it sink in; I know I had to as I'm not really a Greyhawk fan, though at times I believe I could be if I tried hard enough, I'm just not sure, you know? This shield just bothered me. Of course I think I mean not in a bad way kinda bothered, but in a good way. You know what I mean, right? Well, I came to the conclusion that this shield, this very shield, may be the start of the inspirational chain that induced Gary Gygax to create Stonefist (please note comparative illustration, above right). There are two shields and two hands, you see. What do you think? Am I onto something? The research continues as we try to find attendees from that faire and see if they can recollect noting a person of Gary's general description in attendance. Stay tuned!
Black Oil Advertisement Linked to Keoghtom's Ointment!
In our endeavor to uncover the facts we are pursuing an anonymous tip that Gary Gygax was indeed influenced to create the magical concoction "Keoghtom's Ointment" from this very information. Research has been slow going as Hamilton is such a common name, and thus locating the family and their sales records for the Midwest region has been fruitless to date. Note that the prime factor here is not so much verifying that fact, but in extrapolating the easily understood matter contained in the phrase, "Healing Liniment." Though a poser, we will provide updates as breaking suppositions occur!
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| ORIGINAL AFTERWORD |
EGG's Afterword in D&D's Volume #3 Reinterpreted in Light of Present Day Facts! Source: OPI News Wire.
According to the Orlando Skolarlee Review they have broken the "code" in EGG's afterword to D&D (1974) and have reinterpreted this in light of present day realities.
EGG's TRUE THOUGHTS From the Broken Code...
"There are no areas which have been glossed in these rules. We have included all the essentials and no trimming is needed by you or your players. We have provided more than an ample framework and no building is necessary for you to have fun. In this light, we urge you to go to our forums, blogs and other fora where you can be guided in what to do next, as everything herein is fantastically confusing and the best way to understand it all is just to ask us or folks at these official sites. Don't just make things up, don't make adventures, ask us first as we have everything you'll ever need! We don't mind answering your questions and love doing all of your imagining for you! Write us and tell about your experiences and opinions as we could always use another laugh on the way to the bank!"
NEWS UPDATE: Due to this revelation the Orlando Skolarlee Review and its subsidiaries ordered the immediate increase in published material, thus doubling and even tripling their FRP adventure titles for the upcoming months. When asked about this, one member was heard to exclaim, "Eureka!"
Apology Demanded By Irate Earthling Regarding Eldritch Enterprise News! From OPI News Wire.
A recent email exchange occurred between Jimmie Cracked Corn and the Adjutant General, U-Duhm Feck, who administers to flea-bitten elders near the Tesherite community of Drakensfuht, sometimes recorded (according to Baron Munchausen) as being located in either ancient day Mesopotamia, or in the Bronx. The transcript of that exchange follows:
U-DF: Your negative slant on this news was less than hospitable to my ears and my elders here have now contracted a case of the hives because of it! I demand an apology for all elders worldwide. Despicable, I say! Utterly despicable!
JCC: Yes, but...
U-DF: Oh. Don't start that outmoded rhetoric with me, Mr. "I Don't Care!" An apology is an apology! A "yes" will do. Keep your But, for now...
JCC: Yes, but...
U-DF: You seem to have a dualistic nature, eh?
JCC: Yes, but...
The remaining transcript was edited by OPI to extract repetitions... END
Orlando Skolarlee Review's Brew of Choice?
Of course it's "Old Judge" Irradiated Coffee! What a silly question! When all of us get together in our secret meetings (otherwise known then as the O.S.S. meetings of choice; see member patch below), we can't stop drinking it! I am thinking of having something similar to this concocted and made available for sale (look to my "What I am Selling/What I am Drinking" menu when it's available). The name will change to "Old Judgmental," though! I like the name, don't you? -- JCC
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| OSS MEMBER PATCH AND STIR STICK |
More Ground-Breaking Research Ahead: Werebear, Irish Deer and Gorgon Origins!
Triumphant news for our quarter! We'll let the pictures speak for themselves! -- JCC
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| WEREBEAR IN UNCHANGED FORM (very tricky...) |
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| Inspiration for the Irish Deer? |
| PROTOTYPICAL GORGON? |
THE ORLANDO SKOLARLEE REVIEW'S MEETING CONCLUDED WITH A FULL SCREEN VIEWING OF Andy Hardy's Double Life AND WITH THEIR MEMBERS CHANTING A FAVORITE CLUB SONG (APPENDED HEREAFTER).
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