#i'm unsuitable for engineer

[reagent-leon]

Okay guys, I’m really sorry, but this is going to be another vent piece rather than a proper essay. Once again, I’m here to despair about the inconsistency in Coyle’s comic design. 

So, as we can see, Coyle's uniform is based on the New Mexico State Police uniform

This image in particular.

Everything is present and correct, except that Coyle's uniform has a mandarin collar rather than an open one. It really bugs me because while the image has been manipulated slightly, it just kinda looks like they stuck the standing collar on top of the uniform without trying to blend it? I mean look, you can even see the badge on the lapel has been copied over to the comic, even though they didn't use the open collar. What the fuck is that?

This is derivative and I've mentioned it before in another post, but I'm going to mention it again because it still pisses me off. They even left the SP on his Sam Browne belt. SP stands for State Police! The Blackwell Police Department is a municipal police agency! The Oklahoma equivalent of the NMSP is the Oklahoma Highway Patrol.

Coyle having a Russian shoulder patch and no Sergeant's chevrons? Lazy. And I mean that with my whole chest at this point, and imma tell you why I'm losing patience with this comic.

So, going back to the original image, above the rectangular name badge is a badge that I couldn't identify.

In an earlier post, I misidentified this pin as something similar to the badges below.

This style of badge appears to be connected to the Union, given its laurel theme. I admit, I was kind of surprised to learn that Oklahoma and what was known as Indian Territory at the time, were a part of the Union and not the Confederacy, however, the American Civil War isn't my area of expertise.

But on closer inspection... do you see what I see? The four thunderbolts? That badge is an EOD, an Explosive Ordnance Disposal Badge.

Now that as a concept is cool as fuck. Coyle being part of the bomb squad actually makes a lot of narrative sense. Coyle is implied to be very good with electrics (and possibly just DIY in general, given we hear him referencing power tools). By the time he's killed his third wife, the man is rigging full-on saw traps to get rid of his in-laws.

So if Coyle's got the brains and the will, what's the problem? Well, the thing is, EOD badges were originally created for the military in the 50s, and we have no evidence that Coyle served in the Korean War to have earned such a badge, nor would he have reason to display it on his police uniform. Those credits don't transfer.

There isn't any one set Law Enforcement EOD badge, and it differs from agency to agency, but for a small agency like the Blackwell Police Department to have their own designated bomb squad in the 1950s... while it's not impossible, it's a pretty big stretch. If Coyle had been part of the Oklahoma Highway Patrol, it would make more sense as it's a larger agency, but from my limited research, even the OHP didn't have a formal bomb squad until the 1970s.

So while it would be super cool if it were canon that Coyle is a bomb disposal expert... I just don't see enough historical evidence for it.

I would give Red Barrels actual physical money for them to remake Coyle and Phyllis' comics in the original comic styles, because this photomanipulation-collage type shit just isn't it.

Imagine if something happened to Coyle that made him unsuitable to be a prime asset, so they take him on as an engineer... hopefully not in the same sleep room as Noakes.

I hope this rant has been educational, or at least entertaining to watch me get heated over. Coyle could be such an interesting character, but I keep running face-first into walls of inconsistency 😔

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Reading Between the LIES

A Double-Minded¹ man is UNSTABLE in ALL he does:

wavering in character & feelings

restless & confused in thoughts, actions & behavior

like a drunken man who is unable to walk in a straight line

"I'm fiercely pro-vaccine." RFK Jr

...unless I'm hiking which is when I tell strangers "...better not get (that baby) vaccinated..."

or when I intend to use 6 month old babies as non-consenting VOLUNTEERS aka "human pin cushions" to TEST (study) vaccine safety & efficacy

"Reading between the LIES" by Peggy Hall

¹James 1:6-8

The operative name in Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is “Kennedy.” -Isaac Schorr

At his confirmation hearing on Wednesday, President Trump’s nominee to run the Department of Health and Human Services fielded countless questions about the countless views he’s articulated and actions he’s taken that make him uniquely unsuited for this position.

And, as you might expect of any Kennedy, his answers were full of obfuscations, half-truths, and outright lies.

In his opening statement, Kennedy tried to sidestep the single biggest cloud hanging over his nomination.

“I believe that vaccines play a critical role in health care,” he proclaimed.

“All of my kids are vaccinated, I’ve written many books on vaccines, my first book in 2014, the first line of it is ‘I am not anti-vaccine’ and the last line is ‘I am not anti-vaccine.’”If only saying it made it so.

Kennedy has a decades-long record that reveals him to be exactly what he says he’s not.

While he touted his kids’ vaccination status at his hearing, he has previously said he would “do anything” and “pay anything” to go back in time and change that fact.

In 2021, he said that “I see somebody on a hiking trail carrying a little baby and I say to him, ‘Better not get them vaccinated.’”And that’s to say nothing of him being the founder and former chairman of an anti-vaccine group going by the Orwellian name “Children’s Health Defense,” which is currently promoting a film called “Vaxxed III: Authorized to Kill.”

In another notable moment, Kennedy was quizzed about his role in exacerbating a measles outbreak in Samoa that claimed the lives of more than 80 people – most of them young children – in 2019.

Kennedy traveled to the island nation in June of that year at the invitation of another anti-vaccine activist following the deaths of two babies improperly administered vaccines.

On Wednesday, Kennedy insisted his visit had “nothing to do with vaccines” and that he “never gave any public statement about vaccines.”

The Samoan Ministry of Health sees it differently.

“It is well documented that RFK Jr.’s visit to Samoa in 2019 coincided with increased anti-vaccine sentiment, particularly among certain groups,” it said in a statement.

Moreover, in the aftermath of the outbreak, Kennedy sought to exploit the tragedy to push the Samoan Government toward anti-vaccine policies.“It is critical that the Samoan Health Ministry determine, scientifically, if the outbreak was caused by inadequate vaccine coverage or alternatively, by a defective vaccine,” wrote Kennedy in a letter to the prime minister.

There he was again, just asking questions.

Kennedy’s attempts to explain away his own words – nay, his life’s work – fell short in numerous other instances.Asked about his suggestion that Covid-19 may have been genetically engineered to spare Ashkenazi Jews and Chinese people, Kennedy insisted that he was only quoting an NIH study.

The truth? That he said that the virus “is targeted to attack caucasians and black people,” while Ashkenazi Jews and Chinese “are most immune.”

As to whether it had been engineered to do so, well, Kennedy thought that was an open question.

“We don’t know whether it was deliberately targeted or not,” he added.

Asked about a series of overwrought, irresponsible comparisons he’s drawn while promoting his dangerous lies, he denied having ever made them.

Roll the tape, however, and you’ll find that he’s said that the CDC’s decision not to deem autism an epidemic was “like Nazi death camps,” and analogized the agency’s priorities to those of fascist regimes and the Catholic Church’s “pedophile scandal.”

And then there’s his cynical abortion flip-flop, which was addressed by senators of both parties on Wednesday.

“I agree with him [President Trump] that we cannot be a moral nation if we have 1.2 million abortions a year,” declared Kennedy at his hearing.

If that’s the case, why did he express support for full-term elective abortions on the campaign trail less than a year ago?

Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is many things that his famous family resents: A kook, an embarrassment, and, worst of all, in league with the Republican Party.

But his most ignoble trait – the one on full display on Wednesday – is one that he shares with the rest of his clan: He’s a power hungry charlatan willing to say anything to take the next step up the ladder.

[olderthannetfic]

A question about fanvidding: do you usually 1) have a song that inspires an idea for a ship or show the vid will be about or do you 2) usually have an idea for what kind of scenes the vid will contain or what "vibe" it will have and then use a song you know that kinda fits or do you 3) look for a song with a specific "vibe" without necessarily knowing the song first and if yes, where do you usually look for specific songs? Is there maybe a specific site you'd recommend if you use a specific site?

I have a vague idea for a vid and an even more vague idea for the song's "vibes" and that I'd like to use an 80s song but no actual song where my brain shouts, "Yes! This is it!" and no clue where to specifically look, apart from putting vague terms into a search engine in the hopes it will actually show me useful stuff for a M/M vid that's supposed to be about their sexual tension. I thought maybe "Poison" by Alice Cooper could fit but it's not really it although it also fits the ship because "the 'no fraternization with fellow members' rule says no but my body says yes please" and that kind of secret mutual or at least one-sided attraction is supposed to be the topic or vibe... No idea if I'm making sense. Sorry if not, it's very late. Your recent stuff about looking for danceable vids for Escapade made me want to try to go for a danceable song because spring approaching always makes me want to dance, so that sounded fun.

--

Most vidders try to avoid 3 because it's a pain in the ass... but yes, that's very often what I do.

One time, I googled "saddest saxophone in the world film noir" to find music for a vid. (Ascenseur pour l'échafaud for the record.)

I don't find any sites helpful. All of the 'find me music that sounds like x' ones straight up don't work for me because the traits that make me like a song aren't categories of metadata they contain.

To pick a standard complaint: Vidders love like 3 Vienna Teng songs and vid them constantly, but any pandora/spotify/etc. thing will immediately fetch you soft, meandering piano glurge wholly unsuited to vids instead of songs with that soaring quality of the few people are looking for more of.

What I typically do is search for "top ten greatest hair metal ballads" or "songs about starting over" or the like and go down somebody's best-of list. I'll sometimes find a youtube channel devoted to highlighting new artists and go through their archives.

I also keep a huge spreadsheet of songs that have caught my attention that could be good for a vid some time. I'll go back through it when I'm looking for inspiration.

Sometimes, though, the perfect song remains out of reach. I did my Escapade vid super late because I just couldn't find what I wanted and had to settle for a slightly different vid structure and a song that was in the ballpark but not quite perfect.

[keffirinne]

You would look good in red / Victor Zsasz x OC

While I'm thinking to post more of my Roman x Reader oneshots, I managed to finish a few chapters of Zsasz fic that was on my mind for some time already. The story is gonna have 7, max 8 chapters.

I thought it would be fun to give Zsasz a GCPD officer to play with. He didn't seem to object.

Yes, it's gonna be smut.

You would look good in red / Victor Zsasz x OC (F!GCPD officer)

#Zsasz's creepy fantasies #blood #Zsasz being a creep #descriptions of violence

Chapter 1: Raid

Although it was May and the sun outside the window has already risen, it was chilly this morning. A cold wind, completely unsuitable for this time of year, blew through the open roof of the abandoned warehouse and easily got under Zsasz's tight-fitting t-shirt, reminding him that he should have taken a jacket. The air was filled with the salty and muddy river smell, resulting from its proximity to the docks, mixed with the metallic, strong scent of blood, resembling paint spilled in disarray, was covering much of the dirty warehouse concrete floor right now. When one of Roman's men closed the trunk with a loud clang and got into the car, the driver took off right after, leaving behind only dust and the sound of the vehicle moving away. And Zsasz. He was standing there, alone, gazing at the horizon. His breath had already calmed down and his excitement, shortlasting, started to fade, leaving him in his neutral, jovial state. For a while more, there could be heard noises of the engine rattling and the wheels bouncing on the rough road, but in time they completely disappeared. 

Avoiding the blood stains on the floor, Zsasz headed into one of the rooms that now served as a bathroom, since it had a sink. It got quiet, the recent screams and whimpers became only a memory that wasn't going to last long. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the abandoned warehouse, punctuated from time to time by the howling of the wind. Finding himself in the “bathroom”, Zsasz walked over to the tap and, smudging it with red fluid, turned on the water. Under the running, unfortunately cold water, he washed the traces of crimson, partially already dried blood from his hands, face, the tap, and started to rinse his knife. The blade shone proudly with its brilliance, having emerged its silver face from under the dark red clotted layer. Victor reached then for a cloth lying on a makeshift metal table and with surgical diligence, began cleaning his knife. He rubbed the tool for so long, looking at it carefully until he could see his own reflection in the sheet. As Victor was looking through the blade as if in a mirror and noticed a few dots of blood on his cheek, he washed them off with his thumb. 

The squawking sound of seagulls, making noise on the shore, came from the distance. It had something calming about it. Fishermans starting their shift, launching boats, just typical Tuesday. That's why when Victor suddenly heard a loud female voice close by telling him to raise his hands, he was slightly surprised.

“GCPD, you're under arrest! Drop your weapon and put your hands where I can see them!”

Zsasz turned his head toward the door where now was standing a small, blonde woman dressed in a police uniform and pointing a gun at him. He lazily wrapped his eyes around her and  stopped at the barrel pointed at his chest. It had to be a Glock 38, a 45 would have been too big for the officer’s petite hands. One of the typical weapons in the GCPD arsenal. It wasn't bad, but Zsasz didn't like its simple, even simplistic design. 

The woman reached his shoulders, but she must have been trying to make up for her physiognomic limitations with her temperament and verve. She stared at him in full concentration, a pair of determined blue eyes glared at him from under her drawn-down eyebrows. It was almost unnoticeable that she was afraid. Zsasz found this amusing and smirked out of the corner of his mouth, not stopping to wipe his knife. 

Only when several more policemen appeared behind the woman, each of them aiming at him, Zsasz's smirk changed to a small grimace. Reluctantly, he dropped the knife he just cleaned to the ground and raised his hands to the air. As soon as the blade hit the ground with a metallic clang, GCPD officers rushed into the room and like one living organism, began their activities. The petite officer he saw first approached him and pulled out the handcuffs. She efficiently fastened them on his wrists, not at all as gently as he had expected. Meanwhile, she started to deliver her procedural monologue.

“Mr. Zsasz, you are being accused of the murder of Alfred Gibbs. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you...”

Zsasz didn’t protest, the warm body of the blonde officer was a nice change on this chilly morning and to the cold steel of the handcuffs. Next, with nothing but professionalism, she proceeded with the searching procedure. Quickly yet thoroughly she inspected his legs, shoes, back. From his back pockets she pulled out his wallet and phone which immediately got seized by another officer wearing latex gloves and tucked into a transparent ziplock bag, intended for personal belongings. Meanwhile another of her colleagues was carefully picking up the knife from the ground, that Zsasz dropped, to pack it in another, identical  bag. Others were looking around the rooms, mostly interested in the red blood stains on the floor, which until some time ago had been inside the body of Alfred what was his name Gibbs. 

His officer continued the procedure with encyclopedic thoroughness. She searched the left front pocket of Zsasz's pants, which turned out to be empty, while in the right pocket she found a bunch of keys, including car keys. Zsasz was surprised when, after pulling out the keys, her hand slid back into the same pocket. He knew he didn't have anything else on him.

Before she realized what she was actually touching, her  fingers tightened on the elongated bulge in his pants for a moment. Victor glanced at her from under raised eyebrows as her hand undeniably grabbed his dick. As soon as the woman realized what turned out to be the contents of Zsasz's pocket, she shook her eyes and immediately withdrew her hand in fright, breaking her hitherto unwavering professionalism. No one else seemed to notice this minor incident, but the officer was very abashed by her mistake. Her face quickly reddened, which she wasn't able to hide until the end of the procedure. Looking in a completely different direction but Zsasz, she ordered him to move and began leading him to the police car. Zsasz stared at her shamelessly, and although she completely avoided looking at him, she felt his gaze on her, as burning as the embarrassing flush on her face.

As Zsasz passed a dozen officers panning around the warehouse, doing their ant work, he changed the object of his attention and began to wonder how they got here so quickly. And who gave them a heads-up? If they would have arrived only a few minutes earlier, and they would find him in a very awkward situation with Alfred Gibbs still alive. Although, the police might have had a problem recognizing the victim, since it's hard to recognize a man with his face missing. Not that Zsasz was concerned about being apprehended, he knew full well that even if they would find him with his hand in Gibbs' guts, declaring that yes, indeed, he just killed him, Gotham's blind justice by some sudden miracle would find his guilt ambiguous, and a few witnesses who would show up unexpectedly would shed quite a different light on the whole case, dismissing it completely.  This “miracle” actually had a simple explanation, and his name was Roman Sionis. Since he worked for Roman, he didn't have to worry about such impediments to his work as  GCPD. What he was concerned about was if by chance there was a snitch among Roman’s loyalists. 

When they left the building, his personal officer tilted his head, not at all gently, while pushing him into the back seat of one of the police cars. She herself took the passenger seat next to the driver and closed the door. What was a nice change, inside the car was warmer than outside. Zsasz stretched out comfortably, as much as his tightly fastened cuffs allowed him to. 

The car took off. Zsasz ran his eyes over the interior; it had been some time since he found himself in a police car, but he knew it well. He gazed forward, at the officer's bright ponytail, which bounced now slightly on the verges of the road. Her and her colleague were talking about something, but Zsasz couldn't hear any words, the noise of the vehicle was drowning everything out. His mind began to drift off into fantasies, awakened by the recent feeling of insatiability. 

He was convinced that he could handle the blonde officer easily if he were alone with her. It would be enough to press her against the car when getting out and put the handcuffs chain around her neck. She would clench her fingers on the metal, while squirming in place before he would strangle her. Her reddened face would turn purple and her body would slide down on the side of the vehicle and fall inertly to the ground, neck adorned with the bloody necklace. Or if she would lean over, he would grab the knife she carried at her belt.... Her bright eyes wouldn’t hide the surprise as he would be cutting her throat. She wouldn't have time to feel fear either, just staring at him dully, not processings what was happening. Hm, Zsasz was not entirely satisfied with this quick ending of both visions, he liked when his victims showed terror. Unfortunately, for lack of time, he would have to let go of this satisfying part. 

He immersed himself in his imagination, running with his thoughts further, to the GCPD police station. Being surrounded by other officers would make the job harder, but not impossible. Maybe if he stayed with her alone, for example in the elevator or in the interrogation room. He wouldn't need much time. Her body must have been soft and warm, like her hands with which she fleetingly touched him. Yes, he was sure of it. Even though she used weapons on a daily basis, her hands didn’t get rough. He wondered how long she would remain so warm and soft as she would be bleeding in his arms. 

A sudden, strong thought, like a cockblock, stopped him from exploring this exciting fantasy further. Roman wouldn't be thrilled to find out that Zsasz murdered one of the GCPD policemen at the police station. Reluctantly, he had to let go of the pleasant fantasies, which began to warm him more than the warm interior of the police car. He spent the rest of the journey staring out the window in boredom.

ao3: 1 | 2

next->

@thegreatwicked @daenerys-skywalker @supernatural-lover @dragon2d

[stories-of-the-nrm]

A Record Breaking Celebration

Narrator: It was a cool October day in 1937 England. Sir Nigel Gresley reads his newspaper when one of the Doncaster engineers comes in.

Engineer: Sir, it's done!

(Sir Nigel Gresley looks up from his newspaper).

Sir Nigel Gresley: Done? Which engine is done?

Engineer: Your 100th engine.

(He sets the newspaper down on his desk).

Sir Nigel Gresley: Splendid. I would like to see Bittern's first firing.

Engineer: Bittern? I believe there's a misunderstanding, sir. This engine's been named after you by the suggestion of the RCTS.

(He rubs his eyes).

Sir Nigel Gresley: No matter. Simply have one of the other engines named that.

(He stands up and follows the engineer to the works. He looks over the engine before giving the signal to light the fire).

?: Where? Where am I?

Sir Nigel Gresley: No worries young engine. This is the Doncaster Works of the London and North Eastern Railway in England. My name is Sir Nigel Gresley, your creator.

?: Oh. It's an honor to meet you sir.

Sir Nigel Gresley: Thank you. You're quite a special engine to me. My 100th completed engine, meaning you will be honored at a naming ceremony at Marylebone station after you pass your tests.

Nigel: Thank you sir! I hope I can make you proud.

(Sir Nigel Gresley laughs).

Sir Nigel Gresley: Excellent. Now once you're cleared to work, you will be transferred to Kings Cross.

(We fade to the Great Gathering in 2013).

Narrator: Mallard and Nigel spend time talking to each other about their pasts.

Nigel: Yes things were quite different in just the little amount of time I was in service before your first firing. Sometimes I wonder if things would be different if another engine became his hundredth. I was immediately given special treatment.

Mallard: Oh yes I remember. I was still learning how to handle coaches right there in Doncaster. Of course breaking the speed record likely took away your spotlight.

(Nigel shuts his eyes for a second).

Nigel: Not at all brother. I was still given the opportunity to test the air conditioned rolling stock while you were preparing for a speed record run. It's always an honor to be tasked with demonstrating technological advancements.

Mallard: Indeed. I heard your demonstration to open the Rugby test station in Warwickshire back in '48 went smoothly. If only I can say the same about my own showing at the Trials.

Nigel: I wouldn't be so hard on yourself. Your history with the middle big end overheating was known since your record run a decade prior. It was simply a fault in our design that was brought to attention for future reference.

(Mallard sighs).

Mallard: By the way Nigel, do you remember taking the Royal Train back in 1956?

(Nigel thinks).

Nigel: Oh yes the Royal Train. Even more an honor than reaching 112 mph pulling the Stephenson Special.

Mallard: Yes that run in 1959 was splendid brother. A fully functional passenger train. Didn't you break the 100 mph mark more than once elsewhere?

Nigel: Indeed. I broke it twice more. Our cousin Scotsman was quite familiar with the man on my footplate that day. A Mr. Alan Pegler.

Mallard: That's right he was with the board for the BTC.

(There's a pause for silence).

Mallard: At least you got to go on runs after all these years. I believe my last outing. Why I personally can't recall having a run since the 1980s.

Nigel: Ah yes your 50th anniversary. You must be quite popular if you've been a static exhibit that long.

Mallard: I'm afraid so. In fact that was particularly why I apologize for the state of my human form. My parts are simply unsuitable and they will likely never be replaced.

(Nigel pats Mallard's shoulder).

Nigel: Never mind that. This is a symbol of your respect. After your years of service and holding the steam record you deserve to be preserved forever. This is your time to enjoy the pleasures of phenomenon never explored.

Mallard: Don't tell me our cousin convinced you that human food is a viable source of joy?

Nigel: Not entirely. I enjoy a treat for special occasions but nothing more. In fact to honor your run, I asked my driver to buy you a gift.

(Mallard watches as he goes to pick up a bottle of port and a box of truffles).

Mallard: You didn't.

Nigel: I did little brother. You made a great accomplishment and brought honor to our railway. To this day after 75 years that record still stands. I am more than honored to have you as a brother.

(Mallard looks touched).

Mallard: I suppose I have no choice in the matter. Very well then Nigel, you may open the bottle.

Nigel: Splendid. I admit this is my first time as well so I'll simply ask Bittern to do so.

(Mallard raises an eyebrow).

Mallard: She's familiar with human food? But she's so mindful of her human form.

Nigel: Yes she did have an influence from her brief reunion with our cousin Scotsman. Since she's returned to active service, she did develop a well balanced approach to eating.

(Mallard sighs).

Mallard: Alright brother. You can ask her.

Nigel: Splendid. I'll be right back, brother.

Narrator: As Nigel leaves, Mallard reflects on his family's past including Scott's overhaul.

(Nigel returns and hands a glass of wine to Mallard).

Nigel: By the by, how is our dear cousin Scotsman?

(Mallard groans).

Mallard: The last I saw him was Railfest. His health had gone to the dogs. I saw numerous marks on his arms and was nothing but languish.

(Nigel raises an eyebrow).

Nigel: He dared risk taking on his human form?

Mallard: Apparently so and it was a pitiful display that set a terrible example for Tornado. She is meant to be a proper woman as the first of his class in decades. He was to be the role model she needs if she is to represent our former railway as opposed to stuffing his face.

(Nigel takes a sip of wine).

Nigel: I suggest having some patience with our cousin, brother. An overhaul that lasted this long, with little progress is bound to cause issues. Given his fondness for his human form, I can only imagine the pain he must have been in.

(Mallard takes a sip before putting the glass down).

Mallard: Pardon me, brother. I appreciate the thought you put into this celebration of ours, but I don't find this wine to my taste.

Nigel: I understand and I'm thankful that you tried it. Perhaps these truffles will be more to your liking.

(Mallard picks up the small box).

Mallard: Are you familiar with these Nigel?

Nigel: My knowledge goes as far as knowing that these were made by a French chocolate master and are meant to be pure dark chocolate. My driver said that dark chocolate is meant to be slightly more bitter than milk chocolate.

Mallard: And we're meant to simply take one and eat it in one bite?

(Nigel picks one up).

Nigel: Indeed as being shaped similar to a ball makes them quite easy to eat.

(They both eat one).

Mallard: My my. Would these go well with tea? I believe some of my female passengers enjoyed these now that I think about it.

Nigel: I would say an Earl Grey tea would mix well with dark chocolate. I have learned how to make tea, so I can get that made for us.

Mallard: Excellent. Thank you.

Narrator: After the box of truffles were finished, Mallard and Nigel return to their engines for the night.

Mallard: Thank you for spending the day with me Nigel.

Nigel: Your welcome brother. I'm glad we have the opportunity to talk with each other again. Good night.

Mallard: Good night.

(With that the two fall asleep happy to have seen each other again).

AN: Thank you to Gatatodapoderosa from DeviantArt. I no longer post on there but still field requests. If you can read this, I'll still post this on Ao3 as promised. This was a fun one to make as I liked reading about an individual engine's history and how that could translate to their personalities.

[escapistsatellite]

zoids headcanons

NOTICE: editing this a few times for grammar and to add details that I forgot the 1st time. (⊙_⊙;)

Just some stuff about zoids worldbuilding that I've written odds and ends of on paper but haven't made digital at all yet, but probably should since I'm thinking about it.

"First contact" as it were happened much later, so much of innovation/rediscovery of ancient zoids engineering marvels was accomplished without human intervention.

Organoids: Europan organoids are theropod-like, Delpoian organoids resemble felids and canid, and in fact share common ancestors with Command Wolves and Helcats.

Zoidian diets consist of mainly vegetables, grains, nuts/legumes, and fruits. Proteins are provided by species of arthropods and fishes that are considered unsuitable for adopting as companions. This eventually leads to the development of massive, archology sized farming facilities to keep up with year-around demand. Animal-based dairy products naturally do not exist on Zi, but they do have various analogues to plant-based "milks" that are primarily used as cooking ingredients rather than drank straight. Hunting beast type zoids for food never really became adopted as common practice because the zoids' carapace plus their massive size made catching and killing them too dangerous to be practical.

Zoid reproduction: Their are 2 broad ways that zoids produce young->

1st, the Dinosaurs:

quick recap of canon: according to the Zoids Bible, all zoids reproduce when they die, which causes embryonic mini-cores to break off of the dead core and move towards water (...somehow...) and once in the water begins to grow into new zoids.

Some of this still applies, but with significant differences: all zoids have a breeding season and dino/dragon type zoids lay their embryonic mini-cores in deposits of mineral rich water containing select vital elements, no death required. In this water they go thru the following growth stages (per the Zoids Bible, pt 3):

The adults remain gathered around the area and guard the pool while their young grow. The problem is that after the planet's ice age these pools became scarce everywhere but Nyx and deep underground in scattered areas. In fact many species of dino/dragon type zoids have gone extinct in the wild outside of Nyx and depend on Zoidians and their ability to replicate the unique mineral springs to survive.

Beast type zoids: Comprised of mammal and bird zoids, these species reproduce by what is essentially laying. This cuts out the need for mineral springs and the young are quite mobile upon birth, much like ungulates on Earth, and usually develop a full set of teeth and are capable of eating solid foods within 2-3 weeks (until then they eat partially digested food regurgitated by the adults, or a nutrient rich gel excreted by special glands in their caretakers' mouths). I understand that this is pretty much confirmed by the manga, but that chapter was specifically about a specific zoid bird, I've just decided to generalize it to the whole class.

Organoids (both types) reproduce much the same way as beast type zoids.

I decided that this should be the key difference between the zoid classes because it explains how the beast class survived and why they don't need water to reproduce like the dinosaur/dragon class, which isn't really explained in the Wild Zoids section of the Zoids Bible.

Domestic Zoids: come in two broad categories.

The machine beasts that we all know and love:

And what I'm tempted to call "bio zoids" for lack of a catchier term:

Zoids that were never fully mechanized, and serve as transport, protection, companionship, etc on a smaller scale than their larger cousins. (Obviously these are the only canon examples available, but the tech for cyborg zoids has gotten more refined than this over time, becoming streamlined, smaller, and in some cases can be removed when not in use and reattached when it's time to get back to work.)

After a few centuries of divergent breeding machine beasts bloodlines naturally produce more massive, energy abundant cores and can no longer reliably produce their own bodies since Zoidians have been doing it for them for so long. (A severe drawback yes, but mechanization gave them 2 brains and they are evolving the ability to use their radios and digital wireless connections to communicate digitally without rider intervention, so...)

Some domestic zoids only exist as fully natural or partially cyborgized forms since their machine bodies have been left behind by modern technology and most of the general populace find more natural zoids easier to care for (being smaller, they need less space and since their bodies are still mostly natural mean that vet care/maintenance is much cheaper). Including all of these guys:

are just cyborg animals now.

The beginning point of zoid fuselage development begins with the above and ends with:

The fact that fully natural zoids have all their viscera compressed into a single super-organ means that they have room for much more muscle and connective tissue, so they are much stronger than non-zoid animals of similar size.

COMP Score: COMP is short for "compatibility" or "compliance" score, meaning a zoid's likelihood of accepting a revolving selection riders/pilots; the higher the score, the more likely the zoids will accept guidance from multiple people. The lower the score the harder it will be to find a suitable rider/pilot, and while they don't entirely reject Zoidian authority, but those authorities are never as respected as a truly accepted partner. Zoids are tested to ascertain their individual score, but different species have expected average scores.

This may be a part 1/2 if I end up thinking of anything else.

[jesslovesboats]

whats your fav historical boat and why ??:)

Hello 🙂 I'm so glad you've asked this question and I promise to be extremely normal about it 🙂

I can find something to love in almost every polar and/or nautical expedition, but nothing has captured my attention and my heart like the Karluk, the flagship of the Canadian Arctic Expedition.

The ship herself was a disaster. Built in 1884 as a fishing vessel, she was repurposed as a whaler in 1892, then acquired by Stefansson in 1913 for the bargain bin price of $10,000. The Karluk was uniquely unsuited for polar exploration-- she was old, rickety, and had what chief engineer John Munro described as a "coffee pot of an engine" that was so ineffective that icebreaking was out of the question. Captain Bartlett almost refused to take her north, but in the end, he acceded to Stefansson's demands. He would come to regret this decision.

In the least surprising turn of events ever, the Karluk became trapped in the pack only a month into the voyage, hundreds of miles from her destination. She remained there until she succumbed to the pressure of the ice and sank five months later, setting the stage for one of the most unbelievable survival stories in the history of polar exploration.

Why the Karluk? For me, it's that the ship was such a perfect metaphor for the expedition itself, which is not always the case! For example-- Terra Nova was overloaded and leaked like a sieve, but the expedition she supported was meticulously planned. Endurance could not withstand the pressure of the pack, but even so, her entire crew survived. The Karluk, though? A nightmare ship with a nightmare (derogatory) leader and a nightmare (affectionate) crew for a nightmare expedition. No part of this should have worked, and it's a miracle that anyone made it home. If not for the selfless actions and basic human decency of a select few crew members and the kindness and generosity of the Indigenous peoples of the Arctic, no one would ever know what happened to them.

Stefansson was simply the worst leader imaginable for a venture like this. He was smug, aloof, selfish, willing to play games with the lives of his men, and hopelessly out of his depth. He failed to adequately provision the expedition, a decision that would prove fatal. The crew he hired were a mix of polar veterans with substance abuse and/or ego problems, Indigenous people (including a family with 2 small children), untested men recruited off the docks, and inexperienced scientists not coping well with the rigors of exploration, among others. I need you to understand that these are my boys and I love them, but they were a MESS. The atmosphere on the Karluk and in the subsequent camps was a toxic sludge of fear and anger and paranoia and egos. No one here was elevated by their suffering, there was no code of honor keeping the men in line, and there were painfully few moral leaders setting examples for the others. With apologies to The Terror, survival was a nasty piece of business. To top it all off, Stefansson abandoned the Karluk and her crew after the ship became frozen in. He went on a "hunting trip" but conveniently failed to return. Leadership!

Hopefully this helps to explain why the Karluk is a perfect metaphor for this part of the Canadian Arctic Expedition. Only an old, crumbling whaler with a tiny, ineffective engine could have shepherded this disaster team to the shores of Wrangel Island. The Karluk was not the ship they needed, but she was the ship they had, and even Captain Bartlett grieved as she sank.

For more information, I highly recommend checking out The Ice Master by Jennifer Niven and Empire of Ice and Stone by Buddy Levy. I also Karlukpost regularly, and you can find my screeching in the Karluk tag.

I hope this answered your question, thanks for a fun ask! ❤️

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

might be a bit of a boring question but how do you feel about the Mazda b series? and if you have nothing to say about that one then I'd love to hear your thoughts on the tacoma

So thoughtful of you to give me a backup question, but worry not! If I've got nothing to say about a car, I will find it, goddamnit, if it'll take me two months! Which it very nearly did. Sorry. Anyhow! In reverse order of generations:

1. 5th

it would take state-backed effort to get me to care for -hell, care about- this last one, which did not excel in looks nor performance nor, from what I can tell, reliability nor comfort. It feels like it would be a very complex thought experiment to come up with the buyer this would be the best choice for, even in its time. (However, while the enthusiasts' metric of evaluation is competition, the owners' metric is their own expectations, so it is certain and valid and good that millions of owners were chuffed about their purchase and I love that for them and do not whatsoever seek to rain on their parade.)

2. 4th

Neat! Even beyond the spectacular decals, I just love Japanese pickups of this era (the ones yankees call "small pickups" and we call "pickups" because we don't have those useless fuck-off-gargantuan shit yankees love to pretend has any use). So much so that I want two of them. Neither are this (they're the Toyota Hilux and the Nissan D21), but objectively they're all about the same and my preferences are purely based on aesthetic minutiae.

3. 3rd

First I see of it! The front is kind of unfortunate, but it reminds me of the Yugo so it's on my good side. The rear taillights also have a kind of Soviet quality to them, I'm sure there's some -az car with rear lights just like those.

4. 2nd

HELL FUCKING YEAH *checks pronouns* SISTER! I love this thing. Especially the REPU, where PU stands for Pick Up and RE stands for...

Yep :D, this was the time when Mazda was shoving rotaries left and right into applications they were comically unsuited for absolutely no discernible reason, and we're all glad that they did, because Lord knows no one else had the lack of sense to do it.

Yes the ROTARY POWER* on the back of it is factory! *BITCHES

5. 1st

Yeah, this is at the edge of car period that excites me. Not that I think it looks bad or is bad or anything, it just starts to feel too... historic for me to connect to? I guess a Mazda pickup from the early '60s is just not for me.

It seems I guessed wrong.

This Ghibli-esque little thing is the 1959 Mazda K360, being a kei truck with the then maximum of 360cc of engine. It was a popular taxi (taxi!) in Myanmar...

...where it kept being produced until the early '70s, when it got replaced by the other other truck Mazda was making by the early '60s, the B360.

Wow I really was wrong there huh.

These were probably a sort of "Eastern Europe getting Fiat's scraps" kind of deal, since while these were manufactured in Myanmar from '72 to the mid-90s (mid-90s!), by 1972 Japan had already long been getting the B360's replacement i.e. the Mazda Porter, which OOOO0000°°°°°ººººº⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰⁰ my GOOOOOODDDD

OMGOMGOMG THIS IS THE CUTEST THING IN THE WORLD

I don't even want to own one of these, I want to cuddle it. I want to protect it.

OMG THIS ONE HAS TINY LITTLE HAYASHIS WITH TINY LITTLE LETTERING ON ITS TINY LITTLE TIRES

*faints* *a feeble, wiggly speech bubble appears from below the table* Tacoma's good btw. Best of segment by miles.

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question: if you liked this post, you might like those - or the blog’s Discord server, linked in the pinned post!

[squidlykitten]

Authorial April: Day One

I'm currently working on a culture document! Well. Mostly I am filling out a questionnaire. But maybe I will make it look pretty later. Today's progress is 800 words!

WRITTEN TODAY Word count: 800

Do average people believe old tales, or do they dismiss some that have a basis in fact (e.g., Troy)?

Generally speaking, Vincam people are fond of mythologizing their past, especially considering their long history of warfare and brutal acts against other races and fellow creleans. As with most peoples, their stories tend to paint themselves in a far better light than might be deserved and reinforce a feeling of colony cohesion and pride. As a general rule, Vincam are conditioned all of their life to consider the actions of their leaders to be righteous and just, and to not question their "inherent superiority." There are always those who go against this rule, but generally they are the Vincam who have survived long enough to see the cracks beneath the pretty paint that their cultural stories wash over their history.

Do wild and rebellious young people dress any differently from anyone else? Are they allowed to?

Short answer? No. Due to extensive use of genetic cloning, clothing style and color is used as a major indicator of identity and dressing outside of allowed norms, especially for an on-duty Vincam, could have potentially violent results. The long answer is that people generally find very subtle ways of rebelling. They might wear a certain pattern of warpaint that is more aspirational than truthful, or they might pick up offworlder clothes to wear on their off-shifts that they feel better reflects the personal self that they only indulge when not working on their colony assigned tasks. Still, this rebelliousness is rare -- collectivism is the dominant cultural norm, and over expression of individualism is frowned upon, even during off-shifts. That being said, exiles from the colony tend to wear whatever style they desire, often adopting the clothing styles and adornments popular amongst those who would have ranked higher than them within the colony, with prominent use of golds and reds. Vincam exiles are not numerous but they do exist, often forming small bands of mercenaries or raiding parties.

How do they choose what work to do?

The creleans are a hive species, and the Vincam are no exception. Every Vincam is hatched for a specific job and purpose, which results in an unemployment rate of zero within Mother Siel's colony. In modern times, genetic engineering and cloning is used to obtain hatchlings who are physically and mentally suited for their designated positions, but that doesn't mean the system is always perfect. While Vincam are allowed to petition for transfer into another department, it can be a difficult thing to find a position that is open or to prove their worth to fill it. This sometimes results in rather violent solutions from desperate potential job-hoppers, which even then does not guarantee them a spot in their desired position. Vincam who are deemed unsuitable for their position or otherwise deemed unfit to work face discardment by the colony, which includes the removal of their implant to be given to the one who will fill the position they were unable to. This is a fate worse than death for a crelean that has established full integration with their implant, as their minds and bodies become accustomed to offloading physical and mental strain to it. Removal also leaves them at the mercy of their natural immune systems, which will be incredibly weak due to the implant having fulfilled that role for the entirety of their existence.

[eaglet-if]

I know this is a weird poll considering the demo is still not out, but I'm planning for what needs to be done right after the demo release (mainly, coding the battle system), and I'm once more reminded of how painfully unsuited ChoiceScript is for the technical side of this project. Which begs the question: should I, after the demo is released, redo the whole thing in another, more suitable engine? I'm leaning towards Twine, though I don't like its UI from a user perspective, nor the way its coding looks.

Pros:

- a lot less coding work

- more possibilities, mostly objects and dynamic object generation (for example: atm, the amount of units you can have is hard-coded, and each one needs a ton of variables and thousands of lines of code; dynamic object generation would both simplify that and remove any restrictions)

- better menu navigation

Cons:

- I need to rewrite all the code

- I need to learn a completely new engine and possibly language

(please note that I also learned ChoiceScript from scratch and it took me like 30 minutes max, so the second Con is not as bad as it sounds)

So, what to do?

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

My world's main agriculture is farming but I'm wondering if that's truly viable in terrain that's not ideal for growing stuff. Though I am certainly having the world be advanced enough to have greenhouses and so on but nothing too fancy other than some rudimentary GMO. With greenhouses, I assume the majority of land could possibly be used - including desert/polar regions. Just as long as they can transport all their needed supplies.

Ebonwing: If so much of your terrain is unsuited to farming that they’d have to build greenhouses everywhere, why would the main agriculture be farming? In areas where farming crops isn’t feasible, people have traditionally found other ways of feeding themselves, often by having animal herds and maintaining diets based on meat and dairy.

Tex: Arable land depends on soil fertility. While it’s true that this is climate-dependent, there are, for example, plants that grow in both the Arctic and the desert. There is currently an interest in some farmers adopting no-till farming due to more research being conducted on soil microbiology (Nature portfolio).

Successful agriculture is heavily dependent upon the health of the soil and the greater biome. Greenhouses are a popular concept for alleviated perceived issues with the production of crops, but also have issues with decreased microbial diversity, something that plants need in order to be healthy (Legein et al.). Accordingly, this microbial diversity has a perceptible impact on human health (PDF Samiran &  van der Heijden).

Genetic engineering is a new field and has only recently been involved in agriculture, with selective breeding of animals and plants the predominant method of cultivating desired characteristics the typical preference of farmers, when they have not opted for domestication.

What are your world’s main goals for agricultural production? How many people are they feeding, how many animals are they feeding, and what is the general density of these populations? What does an ideal diet look like? Is the food mostly equivalent in quality and accessibility across all social strata, or are there visible disparities? What are their major obstacles in reaching these goals? Agriculture does have a side effect on the environment, particularly with the use of tilling and chemical applications - the natural biome is altered, and sometimes permanently. When over-used and improperly maintained, it can create inhospitable environments (Wikipedia).

Further Reading

Lee, Sang-Moo, et al. "Disruption of Firmicutes and Actinobacteria abundance in tomato rhizosphere causes the incidence of bacterial wilt disease." The ISME journal 15.1 (2021): 330-347.

PDF Chen, Tao, et al. "A plant genetic network for preventing dysbiosis in the phyllosphere." Nature 580.7805 (2020): 653-657.

PDF Gu, Shaohua, et al. "Competition for iron drives phytopathogen control by natural rhizosphere microbiomes." Nature Microbiology 5.8 (2020): 1002-1010.

PDF Wolinska, Katarzyna W., et al. "Tryptophan metabolism and bacterial commensals prevent fungal dysbiosis in Arabidopsis roots." Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 118.49 (2021): e2111521118.

PDF Wei, Zhong, et al. "Initial soil microbiome composition and functioning predetermine future plant health." Science advances 5.9 (2019): eaaw0759.

Licorice: “Agriculture” derives from the Latin for “cultivation of fields”; “ager” is a field, and an ”agricola” is a farmer. So agriculture = farming. Agriculture is defined as “the practice or work of farming” by the Cambridge Online Dictionary; other dictionaries give a similar definition. 

The first time I read your query, I thought you meant your world was one where little or none of the terrain was suitable for growing stuff. However, on a second reading, it seems your question is more along the lines of “how do the inhabitants of marginal land produce their food”? If that’s the case, then it sounds to me as if your world is a lot like Earth. 

Human beings have settled in just about every environment on earth, adapting their lifestyles and diets to the local conditions. Some regions of earth have traditionally produced an abundance of food and been well suited to farming; others have not, and in those cases the indigenous people have generally relied on hunting and gathering for their food. Some places, like the Welsh Hills or the slopes of the Alps, are more suited to animal husbandry than to the cultivation of crops. And, of course, there was a time when the different regions and human societies of Earth each had their own unique food crops. 

There’s been a lot of interest in greenhouse farming in the Arctic, but as far as I know it remains small-scale and somewhat experimental. That could change.

https://www.arcticwwf.org/the-circle/stories/bringing-leafy-greens-to-northern-sweden/

And of course the inhabitants of your world will be trading with each other. Regions that produce a lot of fish will salt it and trade it with regions that produce a lot of wine or spices. Tea can be exchanged for gold. Maybe potatoes are abundant but wheat is a luxury? And so on; it’s up to you to decide what your world’s most precious food commodities are.. 

[karlachismylife]

TW!mentions of drug use and consequenses

Hey comrades! I am still on my little hiatus (hope it'll end soon, I'm getting a grip I think), but I wanted to ask you a little favor. Could you maybe spend a few minutes and go support this music video on youtube by Knox Hill? It's a song raising awareness about the opioid epidemy that took a lot of lives, including a loved one of the author. It's also co-created by one of my favourite musicians, Ren, who advocates for mental health a lot, talks about chronic ilnesses in his art and many other important issues, like the industry, corporate greed, capitalism and so on. Ren is also incredibly talented and while I am not very familiar with Knox, he seems like he's a gem too.

However, they face a lot of problems from the industry as independent artists. And this time, youtube decided (with help of a human reviewer, mind you!!) that this song GLORYFIES substance abuse. It's honestly ridiculous, because I don't know how you can misunderstand it that bad, but as a result the video was deemed as unsuitable for ads and therefore it is supressed by the algorithm.

I feel like this is incredibly wrong, so I ask you kindly to go and watch the video, drop a like, leave a comment for the algorithm. If you don't like the song/fear you might get triggered by it and/or the video, maybe just let it play out on mute while you take these few minutes to write anything like "leaving this comment for the algorithm" and just breathe, think about people you love, cuddle your pet, anything.

I have been close to the music world my whole life thanks to my dad, who work as a sound engineer, so it hits me especially hard to see such talented, hard-working and good-messaging artists get fucked over by corporations.

If you can spare four minutes of your life, please:

Take care, loves, and I hope next time I'll pop up with something real sweet for y'all. Also maybe reblog this post so it reaches more people?

[flower-pot-game]

Dev Log 9

I should expect just as much, given the kind of project I'm working on, but I have to dig up the collision and physics framework again, like a highway that stays under construction for decades. BUT! This time, I'm not doing it because it's broken! So, that makes me feel better.

In my last log, I explained how I'll need to make the tentacle-leg-root thingies a part of the physics system. But the physics solver expects for each physics entity to be its own node, and it also expects each collision object to be a child node of each physics entity. It is wildly unsuitable to make each point of each leg a physics node with its own child collision node. Godot is very nice in some ways but its design can be a source of friction. You can see some of my FRAYED MIND in action here with this picture of my CRAZED SCRAWLINGS:

So! In the end, I've decided that to make two interfaces, PhysicsUpdatable and Collidable, and I'm rewriting the physics solver to be node-agnostic: it only cares about cold, hard data now. But this is very tedious. It is a tedious project. I must persevere, though-- I believe in the end goal.

Another thing on the backburner: obstacle avoidance for FABRIK. I mentioned this in the last post. The papers I've found for this subject are more oriented toward engineers making real robots than game developers making simulations, so if any of you kind folks out there could direct me to a good resource for this, I'd be grateful.

[bisquid]

What are bricks if not fancy mud?

Part of me genuinely wants to have a thatched roof on my tiny house for one very important reason: it should be possible to grow it for free. "Oh but you have to reroof it every couple of years that's going to be so expensive!" Not if all I have to do is cut some grass and osiers and then climb a ladder. We need to get the roof here retiled and the scaffolding costs alone for that are astronomical.

The main reason it's not really feasible is because the skill has become so rare it costs an arm and a leg to even be able to learn how to thatch your own roof! Also there are probably all sorts of hoops to jump through to get planning permission for such.

I'm considering building a shed out of wattle and daub and figuring out how to thatch that, just for the practice! (I do not want a house made of wattle and daub; it might be free but it's also a nightmare to maintain in Scottish weather).

There are all sorts of things all over the world - from building materials to clothing design to cuisine - that have been replaced with 'better' versions, only they're not actually better, they're one or more of (and this is not an exhaustive list): cheaper to produce and/or purchase, more lucrative for the local colonial power, easier to transport, better in its place of origin but unsuited to other places, an historical (and sometimes entirely contemporary) form of oppression, that nebulous but powerful thing that is 'fashionable', easier to standardise (it's much easier to get 300k identical engineered lumber beams than 300k identical natural timber beams, for example), poorly understood by modern laypeople (corsets were not debilitating instruments of torture for most of human history, any more than bras are now, ie, generally only as a result of fashion or poor fit) and/or more accessible (often as a result of the destruction or otherwise loss of their historical counterparts, like how despite it's use for most of history, it's surprisingly difficult to get hold of coppiced hazel).

I have seen about twelve separate posts by firefighters about the higher fire risk of engineered lumber roof supports over their natural timber counterparts.

The house I grew up in is older than: Shakespeare, Columbus' 'discovery' of the Americas, the Anglican church, Michaelangelo's David, the Mona Lisa, the Reformation, and the introduction of chocolate to the Old World, to name a few. There's still wattle and daub visible in parts of the upstairs. The main living room has a ten foot ceiling held up by nearly a dozen oak beams, all at least a foot wide. I have lived through half a dozen deadly heatwaves and haven't needed to use so much as a fan in that room.

It's been repeatedly extended and extensively fucked with over the centuries, of course, and the wiring and plumbing are a nightmare, but the main core structure is rock solid. A good 90% of the issues we've had with it have been a direct result of the use of modern materials (the last ten percent are because the damn place is listed, so doing anything with it is a trial). Fucked up wiring? The 80s DIY craze is the gift that keeps on giving. Draughty windows? That would be the cheap plywood frames a predecessor used and we're now stuck with because listed.

Our new house was built in the 80s, has a huge south facing picture window (for the admittedly fantastic view) which renders the entire room uninhabitable on sunny days, is constructed such that anyone moving around in the guest room causes every doorframe in the place to rattle violently, requires heating at night, and has internal walls so fragile I've already accidentally made two holes in them with a chairleg and a tray corner respectively.

(There is a separate discussion to be had about why modern materials tend to be cheaper than their historical counterparts, and I can't bring myself to get into it now beyond pointing out that it's generally a fun combination of capitalism, colonialism, and good old industrialisation.)

There is a difference between 'modern materials' and 'better materials' and while there is definitely overlap, acting like the materials that have been used for centuries or millennia are inherently inferior because they've been used for centuries is just stupid.

It's cheaper and faster to put up an electric fence than build a drystone dyke, but depending on the situation and your goals, either option could be 'better'. If you built a dyke every time you moved your horse to a new area of grazing you would be rightfully considered deranged by your neighbours, but using an electric fence for a long term boundary might be foolish as well.

There's also the consideration that by and large historical materials - for anything, not just construction - are derived far more directly from the natural world and are often as a result far more sustainable than modern ones. Mud houses require... finding some mud. Breezeblocks require industrial manufacturing. Linen fibres are harvested by cutting a bunch of flax - that you've grown in the ground - and soaking the stems for a bit. Polyester is derived from oil that has to be first mined and then processed. Hazel or willow poles grow at approximately the speed of light, if properly managed.

Tl;dr: Pretty much every 'is it better' argument can be boiled down to 'is it appropriate for the purpose it's being used for?'

[alfvaen]

Novel Memory

Well, that was definitely a January. Often considered (in the Northern Hemisphere) the worst winter month, since it's not short like February, not almost-spring like March, and no Christmas. But surely it wasn't longer than 8-10 weeks. I only managed to finish six books, but I am trying to not try to churn through a bunch of novellas for the Goodreads deities any more, so it is what it is.

Possible spoilers within for T. Kingfisher's "Clocktaur Wars", Rachel Caine's "Weather Wardens", and R. Scott Bakker's "Prince of Nothing" series.

Allan Cole & Chris Bunch: Sten, completed January 1

Previous book was a reread, and after it came "trying a new author", male edition. Way back in the 90s, I spent a certain amount of time on BBS systems that connected to Fidonet, and a lot of that on the SF forum, or "echo" as Fidonet called them. A number of people back then were talking about this Sten series, which I knew little about, but I was curious and found the first couple of books in used bookstores (or perhaps I even got them sent to me via FUBS, the Fidonet Used Book Squad, where other users would scour their local second-hand stores for books that other people had trouble finding). All I knew about them was that they were space opera-ish, or possibly military SF, and there were eight books in the series, and that there was an Eternal Emperor.

I thought perhaps I'd end up finishing this book in 2024, but I gave myself extra time for reading the last couple of books because of increased social commitments in the holiday season, so this one ended up getting pushed into January. (Not to worry, to complete the Goodreads Challenge, I finished off Dennis Valdron's ebook about Season 2 of Lexx, which I now realize I forgot to mention in December's column. I'll add a thing here.) I set my goal for this year to a more leisurely 80 books so I won't have to try too hard to polish it off.

Anyway, Sten starts out with a bunch of downtrodden migrant workers ("Migs") on a company-town space station named Vulcan (no relation), who are locked into indenture contracts designed to reduce their chances of ever being able to leave. The Baron who is in charge of the station is working on the secret Project Bravo, and when he is forced to choose between compromising the secrecy of the project and saving the lives of a bunch of Migs, he jettisons the Migs without a second thought. Karl Sten (mostly just called "Sten" throughout the book) narrowly misses joining the rest of his family in death, and swears revenge. He becomes a fugitive for a while, until he's contacted by an agent of the Eternal Emperor to try to find out more about the Baron's secret project. It goes bad, he's extracted off the station and enlisted in the army.

There follows a tedious boot-camp sequence, which ends up with Sten washing out as unsuitable for being a soldier, and instead he becomes a secret agent. This part is sometimes hard to follow because the authors seem to have decided not to do any transitions. You will just abruptly get shifted from one scene to another. (At least they manage to avoid a lot of headhopping this way.) Also, we're only barely introduced to the rest of the agents on Sten's team, because we jump to the middle of a mission, and I kept losing track of them. (Another fifty pages of actually introducing them would not have gone amiss, but perhaps they were trying to keep it under 300 pages.) At the end, Sten and his team have to return to Vulcan and try to deal with the Baron and Project Bravo, fomenting a revolt along the way. The action there is choppy and hard to follow, and I was kind of disappointed in the back half of the book. The first part kind of reminded me of the beginning of Pierce Brown's Red Rising, but better. Sten does not seem to be a particularly engaging character, certainly no Miles Vorkosigan, so I'm divided on whether I'll go on to the next book or not. I may not bother.

2. T. Kingfisher: The Wonder Engine, completed January 5

I am trying not to be concerned about the Goodreads Challenge numbers, and I have set it lower this year, but nonetheless I feel the inclination to get a "head start" with shorter reads. In my head, at least, this was a novella, though given that it took me four days to read, and it was only split into two parts because of length, apparently not.

This novella is the sequel to "Clockwork Boys", which I read last January, and generally a year is the shortest time I like to leave between reading series installments unless I'm really sucked in. I vaguely remembered what happened in the first one, but there's also a synopsis of the first part at the beginning, which is helpful. Our characters are the three freed prisoners sent out (with obedience-ensuring magical tattoos) in Clockwork Boys: forger Slate, disgraced former demon-hunter Caliban, and assassin Brenner, as well as unworldly monk Learned Edmund, and grateful gnole (anthopomorphic-raccoon-type) Grimehug.

I may have mentioned earlier that I was picturing Clockwork Boys as some sort of clockwork youths, rather than hard-to-destroy mechanical centaurs. I also have to say, when they were going into the heart of the city that was sending out these creatures, I was picturing more of a war zone situation; instead, they can mostly move around with impunity, except for the one character who humiliated a local crimelord back when they used to live there. They have to solve a number of mysteries about how to stop the clocktaurs, with a lot of help from the local gnole subculture, and some last-minute plot twists. Plus there's a romance between Slate and Caliban, with some interference from Brenner. Overall I enjoyed it, though some of the plot twists were so heavily foreshadowed that I had to wonder why the characters hadn't figured it out already. Also leavened with plenty of humour, though sometimes it felt forced. The demons in the story kept making me think of Bujold's Five Gods world, but the stakes were more like Curse of Chalion then the cozier Penric series. Overall I liked it and will probably read more of Kingfisher (/Ursula Vernon) in the future.

3. Rachel Caine: Firestorm, completed January 10

I decided that next I felt like an urban fantasy book, but I wasn't really certain which one, so I'd look at the ones where it had been the longest since I'd read a book. Technically the oldest one of those was Sarah Hoyt's, but her series wasn't that long so I didn't feel urgency about it. After that it was down to Rachel Caine and Darynda Jones, and I felt slightly more like the Rachel Caine, so here it is.

To be precise, this is Rachel Caine's Weather Warden series, which is about the group of magically gifted people who try to keep extreme weather under control. That status quo didn't last for long; by this, the fifth book, things seem to have been pretty much upended, with conflict with the djinns and weather getting worse faster than the beleaguered Wardens can deal with it. Our main character, Joanne Baldwin, has been part of the world of the djinns, but now that that's turned hostile she's seeking refuge with the Weather Wardens, what there is of them.

Sometimes it seems like the titles are a little bit figurative, but there's nothing figurative about the firestorm here. There is a big old forest fire (and I'm reading this as southern California is beset by wildfires, yikes) and lightning and demons, and poor Joanne has a hard time of it. By the way, this book came out in 2007, when it seemed like we were just beginning to become aware of extreme weather, after the record-breaking 2005 hurricane season, and now it seems alarmingly prescient.

I found this pretty satisfying all in all, the tension and the stakes staying high all the way through. Even the one subplot which seemed like it had lower stakes, just about saving her sister rather than saving the world, was gripping because it was personal, and so she couldn't leave it to deal with the things threatening the entire world. Then the book ended on a real plot twist which looks like it'll be setting up the next book.

4. Dick Francis: Enquiry, completed January 13

Continuing in my publication-order reread of Dick Francis; I think I'm up to 1969. I had only the vaguest memories of this one, though apparently I first read it in 2006, ninth most recent of all the books of his I read until I started these rereads.

In many ways it's nothing particularly special. Our protagonist is a jockey, which is not unexpected; of Francis's many protagonists, most of them are at least part-time jockeys, even if they have another profession, though of course many just have racing-related jobs and some just have friends/relatives who are in racing. But Kelly Hughes is just a jockey. It starts off with him just having been "warned off", i.e. suspended from being a jockey or horse trainer, for an indefinite period, though we see the enquiry itself in flashbacks over the beginning of the book. Hughes knows he's innocent, but the evidence against him seemed damning, so once he recovers from the blow he starts investigating.

The usual things follow--he finds some clues, he annoys some people, someone tries to kill him, someone beat him up, and eventually he is victorious. There's also a girl, introduced early on, that he ends up in a relationship with. (Hughes was married but his wife died a few years earlier.) I admit that I did not guess (or remember) who the actual culprits were before they were revealed at the end, and I'm not sure I quite bought it. We had friendly-seeming characters who were actually friendly, instead of being the secret mastermind behind the whole thing, which threw me off a bit.

My copy was from the Pan paperback series, where they often have a single object on the cover on a stark white background; in this case it's a leather full-face mask, like a gimp mask. Often this object is something that the protagonist has to deal with as part of the climax, but in this case it's something that was discussed but never actually shown. You see, apparently part of the plot revolves around someone being blackmailed for being in a secret BDSM club, even though they were wearing one of these masks. Scandalous for 1969, I'm sure, though apparently it was still something that you could put into your mystery novel.

5. Liu Cixin: The Three-Body Problem, completed January 18

Time for the male diversity slot again. Unfortunately I had pretty much run out of stuff; I thought there was another P. Djéli Clark ebook around, but apparently I had already read that one. And I do have the next Wesley Chu book, sequel to The Art of Prophecy, but that was literally the last one I'd read so I didn't want to use it up quite yet. At first I decided to look for the next Ken Liu book at the library, but my wife pointed out I could also try this one. It did win a bunch of awards, after all, even if she hadn't enjoyed it personally herself. In the end, I did put in a request for it, and it even came in on the day I finished Enquiry, so I didn't have to rearrange things to accommodate it.

Interestingly enough, Ken Liu is the translater of this edition, which I'd forgotten. I know little about it going in, having managed to avoid any spoilers so far; I'm just hoping I'm going to be able to keep track of names, since I have had trouble retaining Chinese names in the past.

It's an odd book, but I expected that I would find it so because, you know, it's from China. It started in the Cultural Revolution, which I'm thinking I would not have wanted to have lived through--or perhaps I wouldn't have. I would've been executed for my reactionary beliefs (like "science is real") or something, you know. Most of the book takes place in the "present day" (ca. 2007, I guess, when it was written). Scientists are getting flummoxed (to the point of depression and suicide) by bizarrely inconsistent results in particle physics. And a nanotechnology researcher (our main POV character) starts seeing mysterious floating countdown images--first on his camera images, then on his eyes. He's also trying this VR game called "Three-Body Problem", about trying to come up with some way of solving the habitability problem of a planet with three suns, which orbits around them chaotically. And it all comes down to a woman who survived the Cultural Revolution and ended up working on a remote radar base.

This is very much an idea book, with few well-drawn characters in it, but it says some provocative things. It also dwells on the real-life three-body problem--the fact that it is impossible for a general analytic solution to the motion of three bodies, and even numerical solutions have to deal with sensitivity to initial conditions leading to unpredictable behaviour. The last part of the book gets quite weird and makes me think more of Stanislaw Lem than anything else. There are apparently two sequels, and an adaptation on Netflix; I'm not sure if I will pursue either of them, but given the paucity of my male diversity list I think the odds of my reading the books, at least, is fairly high.

6. R. Scott Bakker: The Judging Eye, completed January 28

Next it was time for another male-author book, and I felt like probably an epic fantasy after that weird SF. There were a few I was considering, and the Bakker was one of them; since I've been avoiding it for a while (perhaps because of its thickness), I decided to go with it.

This is the first book of a series, but it's the sequel series to the "Prince of Nothing" trilogy that I read some time ago. I generally enjoyed it, though it's kind of a bloody series. Our main character, Anasûrimbor Kellhus, is sent from his isolated monastery to respond to a telepathic summons from his father. The only problem is, the place where he has to go is the target of a bloody holy war (heavily based on one or more of the Crusades, as far as I could tell). No problem, Kellhus's training makes manipulating regular people extremely easy, and it doesn't take long before he's basically in charge. He also has to deal with shape-shifters who have infiltrated everywhere and have some nefarious purpose that I can't quite remember right now. There's only a couple of people who realize how much he's manipulating everybody, and rebel against it, and they're cast out as heretics.

It wasn't too hard to pick things back up; partly because there was a "what has gone before" kind of recap, even if it was in the end matter instead of at the beginning, and the first few pages of it were all the underpinnings of the big world problems in ancient history. In this series, it's about twenty years later, and Kellhus is taking a large army to the north to destroy his ancient enemies, while his youngest child (who seems a nice, reliable sort with voices in his head, kind of like Alia "Abomination" Atreides was) prepares to come of age. We also follow Kellhus's wife Esmenet, who is left in charge even though she's a little over her head (though Kellhus is apparently in touch through magical means and can teleport back in if he thinks he needs to); Drusas Achamian, a mage who was one of Kellhus's first friends (and Esmenet's prior lover) until he turned against him, and is trying to find out more about Kellhus's origins; and the king of a freshly-conquered nation (who inherited his throne when Kellhus killed his father) who's being brought along with Kellhus's army. Oh, and a woman who is Esmenet's daughter and maybe Achamian's as well (Esmenet was a prostitute for many years, so Empress is a big step up for her), who's trying to get Achamian to teach her magic. And the high priestess of a cult that has a large following among the downtrodden, and is waiting for the White Luck Warrior (which is the name of the second book, so I'm thinking they'll be significant).

There are some bits which seemed a little too Tolkien-derivative, though. The historical recap talks a lot about the "Nonmen" who preceded the rise of Men, but when we see one of them we realize that these are just basically Elves, with Tolkien Elf-like names. The "Sranc" bad guys who've overrun large chunks of the northern wilderness are very Orc-coded. And when one group has to choose between going over snowy mountains or through ancient Nonmen caverns underneath…and at some point they get trapped and have to fight against not only a bunch of Sranc, but also some large troll-like "Bashrag"…that is extremely Moria-coded. The characters are more Malazan-ish, but still.

But on the whole I enjoyed it, and am somewhat curious where it's headed. I have the next book, but not the two after that, which are probably out of print by now, but what else is new.

Right, so, Dennis Valdron's book on Lexx Season 2. Well, there was a TV series called Lexx, an oddball SF thing that was a German/Canadian coproduction, with a group of ridiculous misfits going around the galaxy in a very powerful dragonfly-shaped ship called the Lexx. Like a hornier Red Dwarf, perhaps. We have Stanley Tweedle, security guard 4th class and accidental traitor; Xev Bellringer, former cage-raised bride turned sex slave, except instead of mental programming she ended up with lizard DNA instead; Kai, long-dead hero of the Brunnen-Ji, reanimated as an emotionless assassin; and 790, the head of an android who got the sex-slave programming intended for Xev. The first season was actually just four TV movies, but the second was full-length and was just all over the place…with a running thread about a guy named Mantrid whose goal was to convert the entire universe into himself. Dennis Valdron, a Canadian SF writer, lawyer, and shit-disturber, wrote some books about the series, with lots of behind-the-scenes info, and I've been enjoying them. I was trying to rewatch the show along with my read, which took me a while because I don't binge-watch, but I did managed to finish it. Probably sometime this year I'll start on Season 3 (which I also have on DVD) and have to pick up the next Valdron book.

I did end up giving up on the Sugar: A Bittersweet History book. A.K.A. Sugar: It's All About Slavery. I kept getting to a point where I could begin to hope that we were done talking about slavery, but nope! Now that we're done talking about slavery in the Caribbean, let's talk about it in Louisiana! Or South Africa! Okay, now let's talk about indentured servitude, and how in the end they were treated basically the same as the slaves, and in fact were pitted against each other! The only bright spot I ran across was on the island of Mauritius, where the African slaves and Indian indentured servants made common cause and things turned out better. I mean, I get that slavery was bad, that sugar plantations were apparently one of the worst offenders, and that entitled rich people attempting to screw the people working for them out of anything they could get away with were not a twentieth-century invention. Probably it's good to be reminded about the horrors of slavery from time to time. And if there had been any mention of slavery on the front of back cover of the book, I might be more forgiving. But there was not. And the book was more about slavery than it was about sugar. It was more about the harvesting of sugar cane, as a crop, than about sugar itself. And I just got tired of it.

I already have several other nonfiction books--just among my recent acquisitions, mind you, not ones that are sitting unread on the shelf from when I got them years ago--waiting to be read. Perhaps I should be leaping immediately to the one I got for Christmas, the new Yuval Noah Harari, but instead I picked one of the bought-on-a-whim-because-it-was-remaindered-and-deeply-discounted hardcovers that represent most of my nonfiction purchases these days. It's a book called Wild And Crazy Guys by Nick de Semlyen, which is about early Saturday Night Live comedians and adjacent--John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Eddie Murphy, Steve Martin, John Candy, Rick Moranis, and Bill Murray--and "how they changed the movie industry forever". I found it kind of interesting, and in some cases makes me want to go back and try some of these movies that I missed at the time, or rewatch the ones that I did see back then. (I imagine I'll be rewatching "Groundhog Day" on February 2nd this year, as I often do.)

[enigmaincrimson]

Debating some things for the Kill La Kill Verse...

(And yes, I know the AI conceptualization I have here is old, I haven't sat down and made an updated prompt yet.)

Currently, I was going with Fuyuko as her first name, being "winter" to Satsuki's "Summer", but... I'm kind of wondering if I should change it.

As for some random notes...

Her parents were killed in a work related disaster involving human ascendance experiments... although publicly, it was that the reactor had a meltdown and killed all hands on board.

Being her appointed guardian, the girl was sent to live with her aunt Ragyo and her cousin Satsuki. She was adopted by Ragyo as her daughter not long after.

As for some additional retcons for the verse... the "Prometheus" experiment had several branches... most of the documents were destroyed in the disaster, but there were at least a few key points of information in-setting.

The Archetype, whose existence inspired the project whose identity is left undocumented.

Alpha, a human test subject whose rampage was the reason why the disaster occurred in the first place, presumed deceased or contained.

Beta, an artificial human produced from the ground-up in an attempt to produce a more stable subject.

Another project involving producing an enhanced strain of life fibers meant to augment, stabilize and sustain the completed project.

Yeah, Muketsu's origins and nature is going to be tweaked a bit with the new concept.

Right now, the mutant strain of life fibers are dubbed "Variation Gamma", being augmented using the same processes that created variation Alpha and Beta, making what is an essentially "divine" subspecies of life fibers.

While vastly superior to the naturally occurring strain and lacking it's weaknesses, there are a few key issues that came in development.

The most obvious being is that they're stronger and more aggressive than their counterparts, having higher energy requirements before going dormant.

Due to all the research being destroyed in the Gehenna disaster, there was only enough of the substance to make a single kamui, requiring an elaborate process of reverse engineering to make more.

The strain has a tendency to be more "willful" and have a strong tendency to hijack and mutate their hosts into a form more suitable for their needs or in worse cases, immediate deconstruction and absorbing of an unsuitable host's body.

I got a bit sidetracked here, but one of her duties is to assist in reverse engineering and researching the mutant strain if possible, resulting in the "Kennel" facility.