WNW: I refuse to apologize for this

Look, I think it's funny, and I've been having a crappy week with multiple visits to the dentist, so if I have to suffer then so do you.

You've been Rickrolled with Teen Spirit.





I actually like this. Nirvana always struck me as pretentiously emo, even before emo was in vogue. And both the music and video meld together surprisingly well. Epic-level taking the piss, IMO.

You can download the MP3 of the song here.

Horses, mouths, and gift-looking

The Good: I went to the dentist yesterday and got my missing crown/filling/thing repaired. It was the least traumatic dental experience I've had, which is surprising. Dentist was surprisingly gentle and reassuring, and let me listen to music on my MP3 player. This relaxed me immensely.

The Bad: It cost $160 because I have no health insurance. I had to beg my mother to pay for it. Which she did, and didn't give me grief over it, but it stings my pride anyway.

The Ugly: The dentist found lots more decay in my mouth. This is due to not having had dental or health coverage since 2003. Things are only going to get more painful and expensive from this point forth.

The Blah: Still sorta tired and off-schedule. Not sure if this is related to tension from the appointment yesterday or not, but I want to sleep constantly. Posting may be erratic for a while.

These are neat (Z Kit)

Ah, you thought I was done posting about the Z Kit, didn't you? No, a Z Kit is never truly finished; it just reaches a point of final readiness from whence you can constantly upgrade and improve as need, finance, and circumstance dictate. As an example, here are two things I have recently found and added to my kit.

1). WD-40 No-Mess Pen
Because it's always handy to have an anti-corrosion universal lubricant around, and not only is it small enough to keep in a purse or a backpack, it's also not a pressurized aerosol. (It's more like a felt-tip pen.) This is very, very important, because aerosol products tend to go boom if they get too hot, and I frequently leave my kit in the car when I don't feel like hauling it inside a store. Also, aerosols tend to lose their fizz over time. This is a very good thing to have, with lots of uses, negligible weight, and only costs a few dollars. Weirdly, I couldn't find this at my local supermarket or discount store; I had to go a hardware store to get it, and it was lurking in the "impulse purchase" section near the register instead of with the rest of the lubricants.




2) Solar-Powered Water Bottle Cap
This is pretty much the embodiment of the Z Kit philosophy: For zero extra space and practically no weight gain, you turn a water bottle into a lantern. You gain function AND it requires no batteries. Fill it up, turn it on, and the diffraction of water scatters the light so that you have a lantern. Brilliant!

As much as I love ThinkGeek, you can buy it for $3 less from GoFASTandLIGHT.com.


Have you seen any cool new gadgets that deserve a place in my Z Kit? Let me know!

Nine While Nine

Everyone has heard of the Rule of Threes, and although which rule is open to debate, most peoples' thoughts will turn to the belief that disasters and/or celebrity deaths happen in triplicate. Regardless, three is a very powerful number, mathematically, scientifically, and mystically.

See what I did there? I used the Writing Rule of Three to enforce my point. Orators and rhetoricians have used threes to great effect:

• "Never, never, never give up." -- Winston Churchill
• "Read my lips: No New Taxes" -- George H.W. Bush (special double emphasis version)
• "If today I stand here as a revolutionary, it is as a revolutionary against the Revolution." -- Adolph Hitler

(Note to contextualists: I'm not suggesting anything political by listing Churchill, Bush, and Hitler in the same paragraph. These were simply the first that came to my mind.)

Threes are very popular, and very powerful. So much so that a 2nd Edition AD&D game setting called Planescape created a world where the rule became the law, and then expanded upon this by making two other laws, thus forming a perfect triad of cosmological law:

The first principle, the Rule-of-Three, says simply that things tend to happen in threes. The principles which govern the planes are themselves subject to this rule.

The second principle is the Unity of Rings, and notes that many things on the planes are circular, coming back around to where they started. This is true geographically as well as philosophically

The third principle is the Center of All, and states that there is a center of everything — or, rather, wherever a person happens to be is the center of the multiverse... from their own perspective, at least. As most planes are functionally infinite, disproving anyone's centricity would be impossible. In Planescape, this is meant philosophically just as much as it is meant in terms of multiversal geography.

A great deal of this philosophy carried over into, as you might expect, Third Edition D&D.

1. Saving Throws: Fortitude, Reflex, and Will.
   
2. Base Attack Bonus: Good, Average, Poor.
   
3. Core Books: Player's Handbook, Dungeon Master's Guide, Monster Manual.
   

But when I created my "The Light, the Dark, and the Gray" post (again, note the three), I realized how the two axes of Ethics (law vs chaos) and morality (good vs evil) created nine possible alignments, When I started looking, I found nines everywhere! Which makes sense when you think about it, because nine is really just three in triplicate.

• As previously stated, nine alignments: Lawful Good, Lawful Neutral, Lawful Evil; Chaotic Good, Chaotic Neutral, Chaotic Evil; Neutral Good, True Neutral, and Neutral Evil.
  
• Nine size categories: Fine, Diminutive, Tiny, Small, Medium, Large, Huge, Gargantuan, Colossal.
  
• There are actually nine forms of unique dice used in D&D. In addition to the standard d4, d6, d8, d10, d12 and d20, there is the d3 (half a d6 and used for unarmed strikes), the d2 (half a d4 and used for several small-size weapons) and the d1, aka the single point of damage that sneaks in through a variety of different means, usually through wording like "damage may not be reduced below 1 hit point."
• Important weapon data: Simple, Martial, or Exotic? Smashing, Bludgeoning, or Piercing? Damage, Critical multiplier, and Range.
  
• Before Third edition introduced zero-level cantrips and orisons, spells went from level (power) one to level nine. Everyone knows that all the best spells are ninth level.
  
• And I know this last one will be met with suspicion, when you look at my Compass Rose of Character Classes, there are nine distinct positions.

No doubt some of you are thinking, "This is all very well and good, Palette, but where are you going with this?" Which is a fair question, because I'm wondering that myself. I honestly don't know what my thesis is, other than "there sure are a lot of nines around here." Sometimes the answer comes to me as I write, but sadly not in this case.

Since I have to force a conclusion here, I will end with this: D&D has, from the beginning, been about numbers and symbolism. I think it would be neat to create a campaign world -- even an entire cosmology -- where the Law of Nine was apparent and important. However, I don't know how I'd do that without making it just a multiple of the Law of Three.

But this isn't just an excuse to pad my postcount with blogfodder. I actually am working on a campaign world, more for fun than anything else, and I'll try to work Nines into it somehow. If you have any ideas on how to implement this, please leave a comment below... I'd love to see what similarly deranged minds can come up with.

----------------
Now playing: Sisters of Mercy - Nine While Nine
via FoxyTunes

WNW: Where Is the Lid?

In honor of my missing dental crown, which even now is in pieces somewhere in my gastrointestinal tract, Hugh Laurie asks that quintessential question: Where is the lid?

The Compass Rose of Character Classes

So I've been thinking a lot about D&D lately, mainly because most of my friends have stopped playing City of Heroes (either due to boredom or summer) and so I've been having a torrid affair with Dungeons & Dragons Online. Playing DDO has reminded me of one of the many things which bug me about D&D, which is:

There are too damn many character classes.

Now, let me say first that I like choice in character generation. Usually more choices = better. But the problem here is that with D&D, you play with fantasy archetypes that are almost Jungian in nature (perhaps Gygaxian is a better choice.) By introducing more classes, you begin to dilute what I feel is the essential purity of the originals.

For example, the Barbarian. There is nothing wrong with the concept of a barbarian in D&D, of course, as Robert E. Howard has taught us. But does the barbarian truly need its own class? Really, isn't the barbarian just a half-naked fighter with excessive hit points and who froths at the mouth? Making Rage a fighter feat would do just as well, I feel.

And don't get me started on the Monk and how his Shaolin antics have no place in my Western European-themed game. This was one of the things 2nd Edition got right.

To help my argument, I present to you the Compass Rose of Character Classes. First we begin with the quartet every grognard knows by heart (if perhaps by different names) aligned with the cardinal directions:

FIGHTER
|
|
|

|

CLERIC ------------------+------------------ ROGUE

|
|
|
|
WIZARD

Each class occupies its own niche of Gygaxian Archetypal uniqueness. Each has weaknesses which are bolstered by its "opposing" class (smart, weak wizard complements strong, dumb fighter, etc) and each brings a valued skillset to the table (divine magic, arcane magic, stealthiness, and hitting things really well) which is unmatched by the other classes.

All this is well and good. Now let's try to add some other classes and see where they fit. (I apologize for my crappy formatting; apparently blogger hates spaces, even when I use the HTML code for them.)

FIGHTER
|
|
PALADIN | RANGER
|
|
CLERIC ---------------BARD--------------- ROGUE
|
|
|
|
WIZARD

The Bard fits easily, as he is a generalist and possesses elements of the other four: some arcane, some buffing/healing, some sneaking, and half-decent in combat with the right armor and skill feats (specifically, Elven Chain and Weapon Finesse). The Paladin (Holy Warrior) logically occupies a space between Fighter and Cleric; likewise the Ranger (Stealthy Warrior) is midway between Fighter and Rogue. So far, so good, but this is where things get tricky, because where are the Cleric/Wizard and Rogue/Wizard analogues? Furthermore, where do the Sorcerer and the Druid fit into all of this mess?

First, let's fill in the holes in our Compass Rose by leaving the Player's Handbook and turning to the supplemental stuff, such as the Complete series.

FIGHTER
|
|
PALADIN | RANGER
|
|
CLERIC ---------------BARD--------------- ROGUE
|
|
  WARLOCK | SPELLTHIEF
|
|
WIZARD

The Spellthief, from Complete Adventurer, is a Rogue who can steal (and eventually use stolen) magic when he performs a successful sneak attack on a caster, so this is fairly obvious. I do confess that the Warlock is a stretch, and for that I apologize; there is no non-prestige class which melds Divine and Arcane magic seamlessly (unless you count Bard, above). But I feel that if you ignore mechanics and look at the theme of the Warlock -- "Wielder of eldritch energies as a result of a dark pact or infernal parentage" -- then the fit becomes more apparent, at least to me. I fully expect arguments about this; c'est la vie.

Now we return to the Druid and the others, and I detect a wilderness theme occurring. Therefore I make the following placements:

(Barbarian)
FIGHTER
|
|
PALADIN | RANGER
|
|
(Druid) CLERIC -----------BARD------------ ROGUE (Scout)
|
|
  WARLOCK | SPELLTHIEF
|
|
WIZARD
(Sorcerer)

Except the Sorcerer doesn't quite fit, now does it? In order to fit the wilderness-variant theme we have going here, we need something that's more than a Wizard without a spell book. What we actually need here is a Witch of kind -- herbalist, enchanter, and transmogrifier of legends and fairy tales -- and whose nomenclature helps anchor the Warlock in place semantically. What's rather strange here is that in many ways, the Druid fits this mold nicely: shapeshifting, animal companions, the use of holly and mistletoe, etc. I suppose it could be argued that the Spirit Shaman from Complete Divine fits somewhere in there, perhaps in the spot once occupied by the Druid-now-Witch.

Now the frustration really sets in. We've filled up the prime directions/archetypes, along with the in-between versions. So where do the others fit? Is the Swashbuckler somewhere between Fighter and Ranger? Is the Knight more Fighter than the Fighter? Isn't the Beguiler basically an Illusionist variant of the Bard? Where exactly in all this mess does the Dragon Shaman fit?

And then there are the Fighter/Wizard analogues, of which D&D has at least three: the Warmage, the Hexblade, and the Duskblade. By this point I, who desire an orderly game universe, am becoming increasingly frustrated (and Eris is no doubt laughing her ass off as I try to impose Aneristic tendencies on my own pocket universe, probably because she wanted to play a Monk).

My point -- assuming I still have one by now, which is arguable -- is this: Choice is good, but too many choices leads to confusion. Call it Syndrome's Law: When everyone is X, no one is. The entire purpose of classes in D&D, at least to my understanding, is to provide a discrete framework where everyone knows what their role in the party is and what they bring to the table. With too few classes, you end up with stereotyping, but too many results in such muddying of roles that you might as well drop classes altogether and play an entirely skill-based game. (Which would be interesting, true, but there would be hue and cry that it isn't "really" D&D any more.) Personally, I favor the setup found in figure 2, as it has the "Goldilocks zone" of distinction plus playability. Also, if you want to play a Fighter/Wizard, you'd better multiclass.

So in summary: have some class, but not too much. Some distinction of roles is good, or else when the wind is north by northwest, you'll not know a hawk from a handsaw, or a fighter from a rogue.

Palette of the Nine Fingers, and the Tree of Doom

OK, I exaggerate for dramatic purposes. I still have all my bits. But Jesus, that was a close one. Before I continue, though, I need to tell you a little fact about myself and then a story.


Fact: I like knives and guns. I don't obsess over then (at least I don't think I do) and I can't quote you facts about muzzle velocity or steel composition. But I know enough to make informed decisions and have intelligent conversations about these things, and the main reason is that I find weapons beautiful. I'm sure a psychologist could have a field day exploring my particular eros-thanatos intersections. I admit that a large portion of what draws me to goth as a culture is the whole concept of "lethality as beauty and elegance."

I know I'm not alone in this: anyone who has admired the graceful lines of an F-14 Tomcat or a fine Japanese katana knows exactly what I'm talking about. It's the inanimate version of appreciating a lion or a great white shark, the attitude of "Behold this killing machine, elegant and perfect and pure of purpose."

So when I tell you that I like my knives sharp, don't be surprised or think I'm into self-cutting. I just like for things to be according to their purpose. A car that no one ever drives, a tool which no one ever uses; these things offend me on some primal, visceral level. They are not toys to be played with, not some object d'art to be kept in some pristine state. A wolf which does not kill is not a real wolf, but merely a shadow of one; a dog pretending to be a wolf. There are enough dogs in the world; let dogs be dogs and wolves be wolves, say I.

So yes. All my knives are very, very sharp. Probably because I like to hone them as I watch television. I find it soothing. My kukri machete is... well, not razor sharp, sadly, but then its purpose is not to be a razor. Still, for a chopping tool, it slashes and slices very, very well.


Story: It was 1996 or 97, I believe, in Florida during a particularly nasty summer. I don't exactly recall the month but I know that it was so hot and humid and sticky and oppressive that we felt Hell held no horrors for us.

I was hanging out with my friends, as bored college-age kids in their twenties are wont to do. There was really nothing worth doing, seeing as how it was mid-afternoon, for we'd seen all the new movies and played all the new games and the only thing left for us to do was bitch about how bored we were and how fucking hot it was. We might have gone drinking, if it weren't for the fact that some of us were underage and the rest of us were poor.

Then suddenly, my friend K had a brilliant idea: we would go across the street to the grocery store and buy a watermelon. We all agreed this was a sublime notion, and so we pooled our money and raced across the street (because asphalt in the summer is HOT!) and thence we collected our cold, sweet, juicy bounty from the promised land that is Publix.

It was a large watermelon. LARGE. At least as large as a 20-pound turkey. It took two of us to carry it, not because it was heavy but because it was large and awkward and slippery from the condensation forming on its skin as the cold rind hit the hot summer air. We carried it with as much love and devotion as you might carry a child.

When we arrived back at my friend's apartment, we were confronted with the sudden horrible truth we didn't have a knife suitable for slicing the watermelon. At best, all we had were pocket knives, and that would be long and awkward and messy. And then, K had yet another idea, and as I write this I begin to suspect that he planned the entire thing just to show off.

There is a common expression in the South that "Hey y'all, watch this!" are famous redneck last words. K was one of those people whom we believed -- with no small fondness, mind you -- would not die a natural death. Looking back, he reminds me quite a bit of Adam Savage from Mythbusters, only without quite so much foresight or common sense.

But I digress, because after only a moment my friend K had reappeared wearing a short bathrobe-kimono thing, with a white cloth across his forehead, and carrying -- brandishing, really -- a katana. The entire mood of the room could be summarized as "Holy shit." We knew we were in the presence of something awesome about to happen, but we didn't know if it would awesomely cool or awesomely disastrous. But still: watermelon, right?

K decided that in order to get the proper overhead swing, we would need to go outside, because otherwise he'd hit the ceiling, and we began looking for a way to, for wont of a better term, build the sacrificial altar upon which this watermelon would be butchered. And that's when K saw the old air conditioner, just the right size and shape to serve as a chopping block.

Now when I say air conditioner, I don't mean the window kind, nor do I mean the kind that you find outside of houses that are roughly the size of a refrigerator. No, this was some strange mid-size condenser unit, about the volume of a large but still portable drink cooler. It was covered in sheet metal, rusted and warped from its exposure to the elements, and obviously old. But it still worked, because we could hear it humming.

K placed the watermelon into the unit, bowed, and dropped into iaijutsu stance. The rest of us took several steps back. We weren't sure if we were going to witness John Belushi, Gallagher, or Tim Allen in action. K raised the katana, gave a kiai, and CHOPPED.

THUNK went the watermelon into two halves.

CLANK went the katana as it embedded itself into the housing of the (still hooked up to industrial voltage, thank you very much) air conditioner.

GASP went all of us as K began to twitch. Someone went to hit him with a log, ostensibly to keep him from being electrocuted but in truth, how many times in life do you get to clobber your friend with a piece of wood and still have a clear conscience?

Sadly? Luckily? it turned out that K's twitching was not electrocution, but merely him trying to extricate the blade from the steel housing. It had made a cut nearly an inch deep.

Later, as we ate our watermelon, K said that at the last minute he had thought better of actually chopping down with full force and instead had only used a fraction of his strength. Basically, gravity and a sharp edge had done that much damage. If he had gone full strength, well... K might not have been eating watermelon that night.


So now, in light of all that, I will tell you what happened yesterday. There is a tree just on the edge of our property which has a branch in what my mother feels is an inconvenient place. Knowing that I had this kukri and was itching for a chance to use it, she asked me to remove the branch for her. Easy-peasy, says I.

Turns out, the branch was too large for me to prune with my kukri. I mean, I suppose I could have, but what a waste of time and effort it would be. So instead I got my Winchester Pocket Chainsaw and (with some difficulty) sawed the branch off.

But there was just one problem: It wouldn't fall. The upper branches of this limb were tangled in the creepers and vines that tie most of Florida's foliage together. So clearly, this was a job for a machete, and out came the kukri.

I promise to you all that I was being careful. I was careful to chop away from my body, from lower left to upper right, because I didn't want to risk hitting myself in the leg on the downstroke.

I have no idea how I managed to hit my left index finger. None at all. If you had asked me an instant before the accident where my left hand was, I would have told you it was down by my waist. All I know is that somehow I managed to slice the hell out of my finger, between the first and second knuckle, and all I could do was think "Well thank God I wasn't chopping, or it would be completely gone."

Run inside, flush wound, disinfect, wrap with gauze and tape. If I'd done nerve or tendon or ligament damage I'd have been screaming in pain, so I figured merely muttering "Fuck!" over my carelessness was a good sign.

Nearly 24 hours later, everything is fine. It's still a nasty gash, mind you -- I'm pretty sure I'm going to lose the flap of skin I nearly sliced off, so it'll be a scab for a long time and I'll probably have a scar when it's fully healed -- but I have full range of motion on the finger.

Morals of the story:

1. Wear gloves, dumbass.
   
2. Know where your hands are at all times.
   
3. Respect your tools and practice with them, or they'll bite you.
   

On the good side, if I can do this much damage to myself with what was basically a glancing blow, I know I can take someone's head off with this thing without too much effort. Loreena is sharp.

Yes, I named my kukri Loreena. Irony is a bitch goddess, to be sure.