Musings

A Tutorial on Fantasy City Building

2008-10-02T23:11:00.002Z

This is part of an ongoing project on how to realise and build cities from the imagination. Click the image below to download chapter 1.

June competition Map

2008-10-02T22:56:00.004Z

This was my June entry to the Cartographers' Guild monthly competition. All done in Serif Drawplus:

Summer / Fall Issue of the Cartographers' Guild E-zine released!

2008-10-02T22:38:00.007Z

I've finally finished the summer / autumn issue of the Cartographers' Guild Ezine. It was a lot of work but I think it was worth it. Click the picture below to see it.

Where the Hell is Matt?

2008-10-02T22:27:00.001Z

This was one of the most inspiring videos I've seen in a long time. A long time.

From the Man who sold you the Golden Gate Bridge

2008-03-03T15:32:00.010Z

Now you can buy an acre of the Moon, Mars or Venus for someone you love from these people. The justification as to the provenance of title is fun:

------
So how on earth can it be possible to buy a chunk of green cheese up in the sky? Or a little piece of Venus or even a Martian acre? A UK company has bought the rights from the Lunar Embassy to sell plots of Moon. And just who are the Lunar Embassy we hear you cry? Well, you would think wouldn’t you, that after spending billions of dollars to get there and sticking in the American flag, the USA would hold all rights to the Moon. But no. Thanks to The Outer Space Treaty of 1967 and the Moon Treaty of 1984, both they and the Soviets, or in fact any other Government, was prevented for asserting their rights to extra terrestrial satellites. What they forgot to prevent however, was any other company (or indeed, group of companies), or individual persons from doing the very same thing and though several years passed during which time they had the right to amend the Treaty, they never did.

Thus it was possible for an American (Dennis Hope) to have the foresight to make claim to the surface of our whole solar system, in 1980, for himself and then sell large areas of it off to other companies for them to be in a position to sell the Moon, Venus and Mars chunk by chunk. Believe it or not but all this was perfectly legal and you will actual own the rights to the acre of moon you buy. This could of course prove very valuable to you or your descendants once we run out of land down here on Earth. Preposterous and cheeky it may be, but no-one can stop you. And that in itself is a huge joke. As a result this idea is taking off like a rocket and to date over 100,000 plots have been sold. The land is carefully mapped on a database and no plot is ever sold twice. In fact the agents have done everything they can to ensure that the process is fair and legal.
------

In fact the Moon Treaty - which applies to all celestial bodies - bans any ownership of any extraterrestrial property by any organization or person, unless that organization is international and governmental. But as the treaty has only been ratified by a handful of states, and those not spacefaring, it achieves nothing (at least until it is ratified by the superpowers, which is not likely).

I wonder how Dennis Hope (who presumably has never been to the moon, and certainly not to Venus or Mars) has 'asserted his claim' to these planets? First he would have to establish his own micronation. Then he would have to ensure a permanent presence of citizens from his micronation. A post office is good as are your community giving birth in the place in question (Argentina has been doing this in Antarctica, by shipping in a heavily pregnant woman for just this reason).

You can see the whole advert here.

Homage to Ivan Bilibine

2008-02-26T17:39:00.005Z

Ivan Bilibine was a Russian illustrator who was popular at the turn of the 20th Century. Here is a copy of one of his paintings which I have tried to reproduce using photoshop.

You can see his art here.

The Original:

My effort at the copy

Scott Adams Just tells 'em so well.

2008-02-22T13:11:00.004Z

I've had this experience with Flora, but Scott Adams on The Dilbert Blog puts it wonderfully:

Last week, my in-laws were in town. While they were out visiting some other relatives, I took my turn watching their dog, Mollie. At this point, I should pause and mention that I haven’t had a dog since I was a kid. And in those days, in the country, when the dog felt nature’s call, we’d simply let the dog out, and it would use any part of our 2.5 acres as its toilet. Later, if you wanted to throw a ball around, you just kicked the (usually) frozen logettes to the side to clear a path. In those simple times, you weren’t playing a sport unless someone ended up covered in dog feces. It was just part of the game.

These days, things are quite different. Today, if you go to school covered in dog feces, there’s a stigma. And of course there’s the leash law. But nothing takes the joy out of a walk in the fresh air quite like being required to carry a plastic purse full of dog poop.

Back to my story, I took Mollie for a walk, thinking I understood how this process worked. The leash was no mystery. It had a cool spring action with a pistol grip. I liked that part. And I grabbed an official poop bag on the way out of the house. I was ready for anything.

Within a minute, Mollie laid down a steamer. I think she had been eating the cat food, because it wasn’t the firm little log I was expecting. But I soldiered on, turning the bag inside out like a glove, and grabbing the warm pile that melted in my hand. It wasn’t pleasant in the usual sense of the word, but I experienced some satisfaction in a job well done. I tied the bag into a tidy little package and intended to head home.

That’s when I noticed Mollie had just begun to poop. I don’t know if she was trying to spell “HELP” in case a rescue plane flew over, or what, but by now she was in full production. Step, squat, step, squat.
I looked at my tidy little bag, now sealed, and realized I was screwed. I knew the neighbors would be looking, or feared they might. I couldn’t leave this Katrina-sized disaster and get another bag lest someone think, incorrectly, that I had abandoned my doody. So I decided to see if I could untie the pooper bag and have another go at the new deposits. This plan did not work as smoothly as I had hoped.

Do you know what is NOT effective for picking up warm piles of poop? If you guessed “other warm piles of poop,” you might have been in this situation yourself. It was like trying to pick up mashed potatoes with a catcher’s mitt. And I was hurrying, so needless to say, back at the house I needed the Karen Silkwood treatment to feel clean again.

Later, when my in-laws returned, I told the story. Larry, a laid-back gentleman from Arkansas, turned to his wife Cheryl and drawled “Mollie double-bagged him.” Let me tell you, the only thing that could have made my experience worse was finding out my in-laws have a name for it.

The Scout's Return

2008-02-18T11:35:00.002Z

This is my second effort at a matte composite, which has fallen a bit flat. The perspective, lighting key and composition are all really badly out. The only thing I'm happy with is the saddle on the horse which I painted by hand. The sea looks truly horrible.

The Furthest we have ever seen

2008-02-14T20:15:00.001Z

Great video of deep field images from Hubble

Celia Celia by Adrian Mitchell

2008-02-14T11:40:00.000Z

When I am sad and weary
When I think all hope has gone
When I walk along High Holborn
I think of you with nothing on

New Matte Painting

2008-02-14T10:34:00.009Z

My first effort at a composite and trying to coordinate perspective, colour and register. The reference images were (background) photographs of the skyline taken from a hill fort at Les Baux-en-Provence which I stitched together, a Castle I found on the web and a knight I also found on the web.

There is a long way to go in getting even reasonably good at this sort of imagemaking.

Latest Map

2008-01-29T17:05:00.000Z

The Continent of Absalon. I'm currently helping a Brazilian musician to create a map based on this one in return for which he will write me a song!

(click for bigger picture)

Incredible Coincidence

2007-10-04T10:44:00.000Z

Dawn is delivering a lecture in Vienna at an annual Symposium she organises for the market research industry. As part of her powerpoint presentation she wanted a map of the Austro-Hungarian Empire but against modern borders. I produced this for her:

Last weekend, I was at the community rubbish tip getting rid of a load of packaging material. As I was heaving it onto the tip, I spotted by my foot the corner of a piece of paper with the words 'Austria-Hungary' on it. I pulled it out and there was a pristine Bartholemew map of the AH Empire, circa 1910, pictured below:

Creative Writing

2007-09-07T13:41:00.000Z

Here is a very short story. www.plotstorming.com is a site for aspiring SF&F authors. One of the areas in the forum is a 'writing prompt'. The first paragraph is provided and you continue the story.

The tempest grew on the horizon. Inwardly, the captain sighed. On some occasions, it just felt like it was so much easier back when he was commandeering a spaceship, rather than just a ship. But he had to get with the times. This was the Renaissance, and the mere idea of a ship flying into space was ludicrous. He took a deep breath. Things were going to be okay. The era of spaceships would eventually return.

'Think the boat will take it?' Fraxi frowned, looking at the darkening sky. 'Shouldn't we batten down the hatches or something?'

'Batten down the hatches?' Captain Anders looked blank.

'Yeah, read it in a book somewhere, but Fruck knows what 'a batten' is.'

'We are spacers in the Imperial Navy, Fraxi. We have survived meteor storms, radiation overloads and enemy action. I don't think a terrestial shower is going to trouble us if we're adequately prepared. If the backward population of this planet can do it, then so can we. Now, if you please, give my compliments to officers Flark and Spangale and ask them to join me in my stateroom so we can prepare a plan of action.'

When the storm hit, they had secured the sloop using only as their guides basic scientific principles and common sense. Loose items on the deck were lashed down or squared away and the sails furled. Anders came up with the idea of nailing small strips of wood to the hatches to make them more watertight. Freebo, a giant from the high gravity planet of Praxis 3, was given the wheel and told to hold a steady course into the wind. After that there was nothing else to do but to ride out the ordeal and to stand ready to deal with the unexpected.

Communication on deck was all but impossible. The wind tore shouted orders across the sea and visibility was reduced to a handful of yards. Twice Anders reached out for an intercom that wasn't there. The bowsprit splintered under the onslaught of waves the size of a Tiberium cruiser. To attempt repairs under these conditions would have been suicidal so eventually, under the tearing fingers of the gale, the wood gave way completely with the a groan and a snap. In a moment frozen by lightning, Anders helplessly watched the bowsprit pass by on the starboard side.

Freebo was locked in combat with the wheel and tiring fast. Anders felt the lack of hydraulics like a missing limb . Janus was injured by whipping cordage while attempting to secure a sail which had broken free. What remained of his leg was amputated by knife on a table down below. No anaesthetic, no autodoc. Even over the terrible wind, Anders had heard his screams.

Then, suddenly, after eighteen long hours of elemental physical punishment they were through. Enormous waves silently slid away, leaving the 'Antelope' lying on a calm, obsidian sea. Under a blanket of stars, twelve exhausted spacers collapsed where they stood.

'Space travel,' Anders thought before an exhausted sleep took him, 'is for wimps.'

FROM A CULTURE OF VIOLENCE TO A CULTURE OF PEACE

2007-09-03T10:22:00.000Z

FROM A CULTURE OF VIOLENCE TO A CULTURE OF PEACE
(The soft overcomes the hard; water quenches fire)

First of all I want to thank Sokka Gakkai International, Sokka Gakkai Malaysia and the Physicians for Peace and Social Stability for inviting me to share my thoughts with you on a matter of life and death for human civilization as we know it. Physicians for Peace and Social Responsibility are so called because their avowed aim is to promote well-being, not by means of the knife, but to stimulate the power of self-healing inherent in all mankind.

Two parables should help to focus our minds on the psychological parameters of the issue which now confronts us.

Akbar, undoubtedly the greatest Emperor India ever had ruled India from 1556 to 1605. Although illiterate himself he was a great humanist. He had six prime ministers, each representing the interests of his particular community. The Hindu was Birbal. “Birbal,” asked Akbar “ Why are there so many cows and goats in my kingdom and so few tigers?” Birbal took Akbar to the zoo where he had packed one cage with a herd of hungry cattle and another with a dozen ravenous tigers. Into the cattle pen he tossed in a bundle of hay. Each animal took a mouthful and withdrew to make way for the others behind. Into the other he threw in a dead buffalo. All the tigers immediately converged to start a fight to the finish, because each one wanted to eat the entire carcass dead buffalo all by itself. The survivors could not have had many teeth left intact to enjoy the meal. Thus violence is self-defeating.

My second story concerns a millionaire named McArthur (not General Douglas McArthur- our man was a wealthy farmer) who decided in 1938 that the USA was inevitably going to be sucked into Europe’s war with Germany. So he moved, far from the madding crowd, to a small island in the Pacific. It was Guadalcanal which just five years later became the most bitter battle-ground in the Pacific theatre. So we cannot opt out of trouble by running away from it, since there is no guarantee of safety in the face of global crises today.

Violence in any shape or form brings immediate suffering for its victims.
It becomes suffering for its perpetrators in the medium and long term because it never even succeeds partially in achieving its original purpose. Take Vietnam in the face of the French and the Americans who came after them, Cambodia under Pol Pot, and Iraq at the receiving end of the political ambitions of Bush and Blair – all glaring examples of this fundamental truth.

To understand why in spite of this lessons the power-brokers repeatedly make the same mistake we have to start at the beginning. The film “South Pacific” is a musical set against a back-drop of island paradises. Even Pulau Tioman figured there as the mythical Bali Hai. But out of character with all the other songs is this one which carries a powerful message as to where the seeds of the culture of violence are sown and then germinate. Let me sing it to you now:-

You've got to be taught
To hate and fear,
You've got to be taught
From year to year,
It's got to be drummed
In your little ear
You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,
You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught before it's too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate,
You've got to be carefully taught!

This is the kind of cultural programming which was institutionalized by Stalin, Hitler and Tojo.

By way of sharp contrast let’s take the Victoria Institution in our time. There was no racism there. In our school song we acknowledged our debt by praising the multi-racial fathers of our school. Down to this day I don’t look at Dato Kamarul and think he is a Malay. I don’t look at Dato McCoy and think here is a Eurasian of Scottish ancestry. We were taught that our school mates are just other human beings like us, each worthy of the dignity of any other human being. Humanitarian values comes from a humanitarian education. We here in Malaysia urgently need to determine whether it is not going to be too heavy a price to pay for breeding a single spectrum mono-cultural national identity. To preserve social stability we must learn to value diversity.

And we must emphasize that truth and justice are universal values.
The engine riding on hate and fear is propelled by POWER and GREED.
In the 19th Century the fashionable definition of power was the capacity to bend another to one’s will. Today it is the capacity to direct how a nation’s resources shall be distributed. Economic duress is the constant companion of military might and that is what the global culture of violence has become. The worrying part of all this is that the ordinary individual seems totally impotent not just to prevent nation-states from going nuclear but to bring any meaningful pressure to bear on Governments to ensure that a nation’s wealth is distributed in a just and equitable way.

Our concern here today is to discover whether there is any way in which this trend can be reversed. Can a culture of violence be transformed into a culture of peace? At first sight this question looks like an invitation to participate in an exercise of futility. And indeed so it would be, if you thought you could wave a magic wand and immediately effect the desired transformation. Don’t ever say, 'I am only one sorry lonely man'. Instead ask 'What can I do to change things?'

Remember that constant dripping wears away the hardest stone.
Constancy is a close cousin of other virtues- courage, confidence, and conviction. Let’s take some examples close to home.

Chee Kim Tong was a humble bus conductor in the Trengannu Bus Company then owned by Lim Eng, Dato Lim Ah Lek’s father.
Those days it was the done thing if you knocked someone down on the East coast roads not to stop but to scoot to the next police station and come back with an escort. When a bus knocked down someone outside Kemaman, the driver and all the passengers bolted off leaving Chee Kim Tong to face a mob of parang wielding villagers. He disarmed everyone of them without any weapons except his martial arts skills, which can be traced back to my eternal hero, an itinerant Buddhist Indian monk – Daruma- who created the art of ShaoLin, the proto-type of every other form of Asian martial art whose core message was that it was a discipline for the purification of the human mind and not a tool for bullying others.

Statistically the Control freaks in whom power and material wealth are concentrated only form about 0.1 % of the countries they lord over. How such a small minority manages to hold sway over the multitude is one of the great paradoxes of human history. But mercifully history is replete with individuals who have wrought great cultural changes armed only with the force of their personalities and the justice of their cause.
Buddha was not born in Britain, Jesus was not a Japanese,and Muhammad was not a Malaysian Bumiputra.

This is a very important observation because these prophets are revered not only in the country of their birth but all the world over.
However potent their personalities and however meritorious the justice of their cause they would not have acquired their universal validity if the means were not at hand to spread the message.
We have today the Internet which spreads information at the speed of light. With such an ally our capacity for reform is limitless.

Do visit the website www.writespirit.net/authors and you will find a host of great leaders there to inspire you. One caught my eye. She was called Peace Pilgrim – a woman who just walked across America spreading her simple message and thereby accelerated the end of the Vietnam war.

Have you noticed that when a tree of a particular species flowers, all the other trees of that species world-wide follow suit. Civilisations also share that characteristic. Akbar’s reign was contemporaneous with the Renaissance in Europe, and the Ming Dynasty in China. These kingdoms were far apart and yet they reached their zenith in terms of artistic and cultural achievement together. I am optimistic that we are on the verge of a new Rennaisance. Despite the apparent might of greedy power-brokers and war mongers we have more than an even chance to transform the culture of violence to a culture of peace. We need to empower ourselves by making common cause with others who share our aspirations. We need to discard our fears. We must become living proof of our capacity for compassion. As we gain momentum we will surely become a global force that cannot be ignored.

The transformation we so earnestly desire must take place because however hard-hearted a person is, there is nothing so troublesome as a guilty conscience. Cyberspace is a huge mirror from which power crazy persons cannot escape looking at themselves. The weapons of war have changed over time in the pursuit of the capacity to out-reach one’s enemies in terms of speed and range.The tragedy of nuclear weapons is that this differential has been bridged between its opponents. Even a pre-emptive strike will be followed by mutually assured destruction.
Fortunately the art of war must always remain the same because of the limitations of the human beings who want to wage it. And they are the ones we must redeem by getting them involved in our commitment to a culture of peace.

Let us rise to our ultimate challenge which is to get everyone to share our belief that service to humanity is the best work of life.

Dato Mahadev Shankar
Shah Alam.
2nd September 2007

Provence

2007-08-07T20:41:00.000Z

We spent our summer holiday in Provence. We stayed in an area called Les Baux. As the name suggests this was where Bauxite was discovered.

The medieval city of Les Baux is perched on top of a hill. The lower part of winding cobbled stoned streets is filled with modern shops, but sympathetic with the architecture. The church was beautiful and very peaceful. At the top, where the castle used to stand has been left uncommercialised and a made into living museum.

Various siege engines are set within the ramparts, commanded by crumbling towers which are etched by the Mistral - the wind from the north west.

You can see the trebuchet firing here

Slideshow below:

Latest Map

2007-08-07T13:47:00.000Z

Here is my latest map: Click here for a larger version
Ravs

The Girls with Altitude thank you

2007-07-18T09:19:00.000Z

If you were a donor to the good cause that they were collecting for.

You can see a video diary of their trip here:

Pure Genius - Camel

2007-07-03T20:00:00.000Z

CAMEL lyrics

sponsor Felicity

2007-06-22T21:21:00.000Z

Felicity is raising money for a good cause...

comeon...sponsor her and her team!

Fight Zyborg my battle robot

2007-06-19T14:46:00.000Z

An awful thing

2007-06-15T23:44:00.000Z

I have been addicted to DM of the Rings (written by Shamus)...a quirky take on the Lord of the Rings Films as played by Role Players. In true Shakespearean tragedy (and I don't mean that in a flippant way) the juxtapostion was that the person writing it saw a fire in the garage next door and it turns out that his neighbour died in the fire.

The interesting thing is that Shamus puts so much effort and energy into its creation but he can't make any money out of it for copyright reasons...but he continues to entertain us anyway. He has, however attracted a huge audience and I'm hoping that good old Hindu karma being what it is, we can use that audience to generate a fund for the deceased's widow and children...and also his garden. Frank was a keen gardener and the fire (and the fire service's effort to put it out) destroyed his work, including a pond which attracted ducks which Shamus's children used to feed.

Please give generously, if you ever read this blog. You can click here to read about the. tragic event.

and I'm hoping that by the time you read this Shamus will have published his email address so you can paypal some money over.

:Edit: (18th June 2007) - I have now seen from Shamus's website that Frank's family have sufficient resources to restore Frank's work (and thereby his memory), so no donations required.

All the best

Ravs

Strange Maps

2007-06-12T15:44:00.001Z

Two things I enjoy are cartography and useless information.

This site has plenty of both.

The Glue That Binds Us

2007-05-16T10:01:00.000Z

This is an article written by my father about the race riots which took place in 1969 in Malaysia.

---

May 13th 1969 is nearly four score and ten years behind us.
What day of the week was it? Alas I cannot now remember!
Perhaps it was a Friday. Friday the 13th has always had such an ominous ring to it.

It was certainly before Mahathir set our clocks back half an hour and thus took centre stage in our psyche. Of that I am sure.
As sure as I am that in 1969 with Bapa Merdeka, Tunku Abdul Rahman before he was deposed, we rose at sunrise and retired at sundown. Friday the 13th 1969 marked a turning point in the history of our nation.

I had finished with the Fitzpatrick case at Court Hill, and made an uneventful return home a little earlier than I should. My wife and children were out somewhere in town and got back just before sunset. By twilight time all hell had broken loose.
The shouting of a mob in full flow, seemed to be coming from the junction of Princess Road (now Jalan Raja Muda) and Circular Road (later Jalan Pekeliling and now Jalan Tun Abdul Razak) which was less than half a mile from our house on the corner of Jalan Gurney Dua and Satu. We were well within ear-shot of the commotion.

I was then out on our badminton court with my wife and children when I saw young Malay, face ravaged with shock as he ran past us, intermittently stopping to catch his breath and then run on.The panic he radiated was very contagious.

A few moments later my neighbour, Tuan Haji Ahmad shouted from across the road that a riot was in progress at the Princess Road junction and that we should immediately get back indoors.
Soon afterwards as the darkness set in, we saw red tongues of flame crowned with black smoke go up from the direction of Dato Kramat. From town there was a red glow in the sky of fires burning. The acrid smell of smoke was coming from everywhere . More to the point the very air around us seemed to be shivering with terror.

Fearing the worst we locked ourselves in and huddled around the TV set. Then I heard this high pitched wail. It was a female voice in distress –“Tolong, buka pintu, tolong. buka pintu!” [Help, open the door] A diminutive woman, with a babe in arms was desperately yelling for shelter, obviously not having had much luck with the houses nearer the Gurney Road junction.
Without a second thought, I ran out unlocked the gate and let her in. She was wide eyed with terror and the baby was bawling away.

The sheer relief seemed to have silenced her and she was not registering my questions. And she was not talking.
Once inside, she slunk into a corner in our dining room and just sat there huddled with her baby and not looking at us but facing the wall. It was now evident that she was Chinese, spoke no English, and was quite unwilling to engage in any conversation except to plead in bazaar Malay that she would give us no trouble and that she would leave the next day.

Our attention soon shifted from her to the TV set. A very distraught Tunku Abdul Rahman [the then Prime Minister], came on to tell us that a curfew had to be declared because racial riots between the Malays and the Chinese, caused by the over-exuberance of some elements celebrating their election victories, gave brief details of irresponsible provocations, skirmishes, and fatalities. He stressed the need for calm whilst the security services restored law and order. Well do I remember his parting words to us that night,“Marilah kita hidup atau mati sekarang.” [We must love each other or die]

As my attention once again shifted to the tiny woman and her tinier baby, let me confess to my shame, that the thought crossed my mind that living in a predominantly Malay area, I had now put my whole family in peril by harbouring this Chinese woman. It was manifestly evident from the TV broadcasts that her race had become the target of blind racial hatred.

It was an ignoble thought I immediately suppressed as unworthy of any human being. She too had been watching the TV and perhaps even more intently was watching me, and must have seen the dark clouds as they gathered around my visage.
None of us were in the mood to eat anything anyway.
We all just sat and waited and waited and waited not knowing quite what to expect.

Hours later there was a loud banging at our gate accompanied by a male voice shouting. I realised then my moment of truth had finally arrived. I asked my cook Muthu, a true hero, if ever there was one to accompany me to the gate.

In that half-light I saw the most enormous Malay man I ever set my eyes on. With great trepidation I asked him what he wanted.
“You have got my wife and child in your house and I have come for them” he said in English.Still suspicious I asked him, “Before I say anything can you describe your wife.”
“Yes, yes I know you ask because I am a Malay. My wife is Chinese and she is very small and my baby is only a few months old. Can I now please come in.”

I immediately unlocked the gate. In he came and we witnessed the most touching family reunion. He thanked us profusely and without further ado they were on their way. In the excitement we did not ask his name or address. What next?

I saw where my duty lay and immediately called the Emergency telephone number to volunteer for relief duty. An armoured car appeared the next morning. I was taken to Federal House and assigned to assist the late Tun Khir Johari (as he subsequently became) and the late Tan Sri Manicavasagam. Our task initially was to transport and re-settle the refugees into the Merdeka Stadium and thence into the low cost municipal flats in Jalan Ipoh. We then tied-up with Dato Ruby Lee of the Red Cross to locate missing persons and supply emergency food rations to the displaced. Some semblance of law and order was restored and the town slowly came back to life.

If that baby who sheltered in our house that fateful night has survived life’s vicissitudes he would be 38 years old today.
All the ethnic races which compose our lucky nation were fully represented in our house that evening when the Almighty brought us together for a short while.

With our 50th Merdeka [independance] anniversary fast approaching, and our hopes for racial unity so much in the forefront our minds, may I leave it to my readers to ask themselves whether there is a pointer here for all of us.

Folded into our experience of the night of May 13th 1969 was there not the glue that binds all of us with the message that we must love each other or die?

Dato Mahadev Shankar
Shah Alam.
13th May 2007

A Game of Pikes II

2007-05-14T10:00:00.001Z

Here is the updated effort. The alpha maping on the edge of the map needs more work but I'm generally quite pleased with the progress.

A Game of Pikes I

2007-05-04T09:05:00.002Z

The Cartographers' Guild is running a monthly competition (just for fun). The theme is to design a boardgame fit for a king. Here is my effort. It's still something of a work in progress. Personal crits:
1. The wine glass is too 'cloudy'. Not sure why.
2. The candle texture looks awful, it's going to be a tough one to do as Bryce doesn't support sub-surface scattering.
3. The candle flame looks awful (probably better done in post).
4. The parchment looks too 'flat' and needs a bit of body and crumple lines. It also needs to be a bit more ragged around the edges, an alpha map should fix that.
5. The shadows are a little too soft and the light strength too high.
6. It would be good to have more symbols on the map (weather? runes?) and the playing area could probably use a little more colour detail (rivers and mountains).

Other People's blogs

2007-02-03T14:37:00.000Z

I’ve been wondering what other people put on their blogs, so I did a little research. One of the gems I discovered was Wil Wheaton’s site. You may remember that Wheaton played the almost universally reviled character Wesley Crusher in 'Star Trek - The Next Generation': an overly precocious teenager. It turns out that the actor, Wheaton , (a self confessed geek like me), who is now in his thirties, married with two children, is a regular guy with a great ability to express thoughts that certainly I feel. As his interests and concerns run closely parallel to mine, I find his articles interesting and occasionally moving. His blogs contain occasional rants (as most do) about climate change, politics and media, but also an insight into his private thoughts: for example, an article about how moved he was when he saw the moon rise in his back garden.

We buried Mozart’s ashes (see picture on the right) in the garden today. We were waiting for a rose we had ordered (Summer Song), and planted this with his ashes in the flowerbed where he liked to sun himself in the summer. After shedding a tear and drinking a toast of sherry to him, we reflected a little on the life of our magnificent beast; Felicity’s best friend.

Latest 3d Model

2007-01-31T16:14:00.000Z

I'm rather proud of my latest 3d model of a sci-fi starport on a waterworld. The ship was a download though. The design is based on the structure of a japanese maple.

DM of the Rings

2006-12-11T11:46:00.000Z

Have you ever wondered what would happen if a group of modern RPG players who had never heard of Lord of the Rings were to play it as an adventure?

Go here: http://www.shamusyoung.com/twentysidedtale/?p=612 to find out.

Christmas Letter 2006

2006-12-10T19:24:00.001Z

2006 Christmas Letter

What a year it has been and unfortunately two years since the last Christmas letter as Christmas 2005 was rather ambushed by other events.

As we write, we are pulling ourselves exhausted into the final weeks of the year having made the bad mistake of not taking a summer holiday this year but with much anticipation of a lovely break to visit Ravi’s family in Malaysia and then on to Bali to celebrate Christmas in the sun.

But back to the beginning, we celebrated New Year at home with a feast of Foie Gras, Prawns and Champagne but rather weighed down with worry for Mummy who had just made her transfer to boot camp, otherwise known as Unstead Park, for her stroke rehabilitation. Life at the time was rather dominated by trying to organise the “Dawn Patrol” as Ravi christened it, which was in reality a fantastic group of friends and family who took on the daily trip down to deepest Surrey to keep her spirits up. It was truly amazing how many people rallied round and a tribute to my Mother as well as her friends that so many people cared enough to make the regular trips for several months. To those of you fellow travellers, a thank you from the bottom of our hearts for helping to share the journey.

Mid January to late February saw me living “la dolce vita” (not) in Italy as the Torino Winter Olympic Games swung round and it was a long, hard, cold slog but ultimately rewarded by a happy client. Ravi, accompanied by Patrick, on a long and boozy train trip visited for the closing ceremony taking advantage of two fantastic Parisian lunches there and back – if you are going to Paris any time soon they are now the gastronomic experts.

Closing Ceremony saw me winging home to set up Mummy’s home and initial carers and then for the great homecoming. Whilst boot camp unquestionably had its pros and cons, the work that Mummy had put in paid fantastic dividends when she was able to walk, albeit slowly, upstairs to her own bedroom – a feat that we had all feared was going to be beyond her. We have been constantly reminded over the past year never to underestimate her fighting spirit and gritty determination to do what she wants to do!

April saw us off to Cornwall for two weeks – a fantastic holiday where we all enjoyed spending time together, lots of seafood (although Ravi is rather off crab since then!) and long walks with Flora, the great love of our lives.

If 2003 was a year for weddings, ours and 8 of our friends, 2006 seems to have been the year for babies. The other 4 couples all gave birth and we are delighted to welcome them all, particularly Eloise my new goddaughter, who is in for a lifetime of girly spoiling.

May saw a return to Italy, but this time to La Foce, in Tuscany. It has to be the world’s least friendly wheelchair house as now both Mummy and I have experienced but in a beautiful if remote location. The hill in Montepulciano is definitely not to be recommended, probably more by the pusher than the occupant.

The summer passed all too quickly and with loads of work on. The London Olympics might be 6 years away and undoubtedly there will be plenty of questions on whether they will be finished on time and on budget but there will be no criticism about how early everyone started working on them. We did at least get to experience the Chelsea Flower Show and Glyndebourne – both of which completed validated however how well we can do things in Britain.

In August we took receipt of our new “baby” Kiri Te Katawa otherwise known as “the devil cat” or “La Terrorista”. She is a very small brown Burmese who has us all under her paw and her brother Frodo lives down the road with Mummy.

At the end of the Summer holidays, Piggie and the boys, William and Jack came for a London holiday and the long awaited trip to Thorpe Park, with Europe’s highest roller coaster. We had a great day although neither Ravi nor I have a real head for speed. This was followed by our Summer Party, probably the last chance we had to see most of our friends this year and then Ravi packed his kit bag and enjoyed his Christmas present, a 3 day survival course in darkest Shropshire – which was undoubtedly made easier with the desert island luxuries of cigarettes and whisky!

Since then the autumn has absolutely flown by punctuated by Eloise’s christening in Northumberland which was delightful, a lovely birthday weekend in Chichester and very sadly the death of Mozart. He deserves a full letter of his own as he was such a wonderful friend to me over the years and we miss him terribly. I just hope that his soul has made it back to Australia and that even now he is ruling the neighbourhood in Sydney cat heaven.

And now, in between trips to Europe and Asia for work, I am buying and packing dozens of Christmas presents, decorating the house for our pre-Christmas events, writing the cards, listening to carols and trying to overdose on my favourite time of year before we set off to Malaysia, Singapore and for Christmas a luxury villa in Bali where we will be joined by Ravi’s mother and his siblings, my Mother and delightfully Claire, Olivia and my other goddaughter, Indiana travelling from Sydney.

So, hoping this missive finds you and yours well, we wish you a happy Christmas and a peaceful New Year.

Crosby Stills and Nash

2006-12-09T01:51:00.000Z

I love this song...it reminds me of my family far away

Look around me
I can see my life before me
Running rings around the way
It used to be
I am older now
I have more than what I wanted
But I wish that I had started
Long before I did
Chorus
And there's so much time to make up
Everywhere you turn
Time we have wasted on the way
So much water moving
Underneath the bridge
Let the water come and carry us away
Oh when you were young
Did you question all the answers
Did you envy all the dancers
Who had all the nerve
Look round you know
You must go for what you wanted
Look at all my friends who did and got what they deserved
Chorus
And there's so much time to make up
Everywhere you turn
Time we have wasted on the way
So much water moving
Underneath the bridge
Let the water come and carry us away
And there's so much love to make up
Everywhere you turn
Love we have wasted on the way
So much water moving
Underneath the bridge
Let the water come and carry us away
Let the water come and carry us away

Wide Night

2006-12-08T00:44:00.001Z

Wide Night

Somewhere on the other side of this wide night
and the distance between us, I am thinking of you.
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.

This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and say
it is sad? In one of the tenses I singing
an impossible song of desire that you cannot hear.

La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine
the dark hills I would have to cross
to reach you. For I am in love with you and this

is what it is like, or what it is like in words.

--Carol Ann Duffy

Would you make a good President?

2006-11-29T15:01:00.001Z

Jennifer Government Nation States

My country is coming along well:

The Nomadic Peoples of Gandonia
National Motto: "Woof Woof!"
UN Category: Democratic Socialists
Civil Rights:Very Good
Economy:Reasonable
Political Freedoms:Some
Regional Influence: Minnow

The Nomadic Peoples of Gandonia is a huge, devout nation, remarkable for its compulsory military service. Its compassionate population of 241 million are fiercely patriotic and enjoy great social equality; they tend to view other, more capitalist countries as somewhat immoral and corrupt.

The enormous government juggles the competing demands of Law & Order, Religion & Spirituality, and the Environment. The average income tax rate is 38%, but much higher for the wealthy. A very small private sector is dominated by the Door-to-door Insurance Sales industry.

Children are brainwashed at a young age to accept "Love and peace!" as a way of life, schoolchildren have twice-weekly sex education classes, people reciting Shakespeare have become a common sight, and all children are supposed to be schooled by their parents. Crime -- especially youth-related -- is moderate. Gandonia's national animal is the dog, which frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests, and its currency is the majambo.

Don't know what I'm talking about? Go here: http://www.nationstates.net/gandonia

Slings (but no arrows)

2006-11-05T17:13:00.001Z

Sling Project

Went about making my sling today. The first one didn't work at all well, it was just a piece of flat material with strings at either end - the tennis ball kept falling out of the holder. So went to work in the shed, cut a larger piece of material from a pair of old jeans and riveted the sides of it into a pouch. Also to reinforce the holes through which the string goes, I sewed in some metal washers and then took Flora for (another) walk.

Met a bloke and his young son in the park, he had grown up in Central Africa and had spent the weekend making a bow for his son, so he was very interested in the sling (he read a lot of military history as well). Initially the results were disappointing - I couldn't get more than 20 yards or so and the accuracy was non-existant. I couldn't understand this as the videos on the net of people slinging tennis balls showed then getting at least 150 yards. Then I found that by rotating the sling anti-clockwise, the tennis ball went like a bullet - I was getting about 150 yards with an underarm throw. So success! 150 yards with a tennis ball suggests that it's quite believable to get at least twice that distance with lead shot. The Romans would inscribe their shot with little messages, like 'Kiss Pompey's arse' and 'Dexa!' (latin for 'Catch!')

Here are pictures of the sling. I think I might replace the nylon cord with paracord, its much softer and lighter.

Global what?

2006-11-03T10:51:00.001Z

The Denial of Global Warming
The ignorace of educated people can be mind boggling. One of the panelists on last night's political questions and answer show, 'Question Time' was Peter Hitchins, the editor of the Mail on Sunday newspaper. On the environment, he says: "It has yet to be proved that global warming results from human activity. It's still open to debate." I'm glad to say that the audience laughed at him when he said this.

Now, I'm not an environmental scientist, but then neither is Peter Hitchins. What I do know is that for the first time in its history of 350 years, the Royal Society has written directly to funders of 'research' to challenge their activities. In this case the letter was written by the President of the Society to the CEO of Exxon Mobil telling him to stop funding groups who produce bad science to muddy the issues relating to global warming - you can read the full article in the Guardian newspaper here. Given that one of the remits of the Royal Society is to ensure that standards of research are met, I'm more inclined to believe the Royal Society.

Exxon Mobil's (and others like them) campaign of disinformation must be working if Peter Hitchins, who is after all an editor of a newspaper read by thousands, holds the views that he does. Of course he is entitled to his view, but do the shareholders of the newspaper really want a man like this at its helm? I suppose so, as long as he can sell newspapers. Perhaps he should read the Guardian?

Exxon's disinformation campaign is an example of a tool called astroturfing , defined by Wikipedia below:

In politics and advertising, the term astroturfing describes formal PR campaigns which seek to create the impression of being a spontaneous, grassroots behavior. Hence the reference to the "AstroTurf" (artificial grass) is a metaphor to indicate "fake grassroots" support. The goal of such campaign is to disguise the agenda of a political client as an independent public reaction to some political entity —a politician, political group, product, service, event. Astroturfers attempt to orchestrate the actions of apparently diverse and geographically distributed individuals, by both overt ("outreach," "awareness," etc.) and overt (disinformation) means. Astroturfing may be undertaken by anything from an individual pushing their own personal agenda through to highly organised professional groups with financial backing from large corporations

You can listen to a lecture on global warming posted on the Society's website here

The dialectic paradigm of discourse

2006-11-02T12:35:00.002Z

Postmodern Gibberish
This is a great website which prints out randomly generated postmodern gibberish in the form of a learned text, complete with footnotes. An excerpt follows:

Prestructural dematerialism in the works of Stone
Wilhelm N. Long
Department of Politics, University of California, Berkeley

1. The dialectic paradigm of discourse and submodern nihilism In the works of Stone, a predominant concept is the distinction between closing and opening. Thus, if prestructural dematerialism holds, the works of Stone are reminiscent of Lynch. The subject is interpolated into a cultural theory that includes culture as a whole. Lyotard uses the term 'submodern nihilism' to denote a semioticist reality. The primary theme of the works of Stone is the paradigm, and eventually the fatal flaw, of semantic society. It could be said that Marx suggests the use of prestructural dematerialism to challenge sexism. D'Erlette[1]states that we have to choose between neocapitalist narrative and cultural discourse. But any number of theories concerning the bridge between consciousness and sexual identity may be revealed.
------------
1. d'Erlette, U. C. (1983) The Economy of Context: Cultural theory in the works of Pynchon. Schlangekraft

There must be some fun that can be had out of this with pretentious people.

Spoke to my friend Lori whom I hadn't heard from in ages. Glad to hear that she's doing well and life is improving for her.

Dawkins on Genetic Engineering

2006-11-01T10:04:00.001Z

Genetic Engineering.
Richard Dawkins says that genetic engineering and computer programming are literally the same. Genes are subroutines which is why it is possible to copy and paste genes from virtually every living thing to any other living thing. Unlike computing the programming language across the living world is the same.

So you can take an 'anti-freeze' gene from an arctic fish and put it into a tomato to make it frost resistant. We now have the ability to take advantage of millions of years of Research and Development carried out by natural selection and a greater ability than ever before to pick and mix.

One of the biggest differences between mankind and nature is that we can carry out processes with an ultimate end in mind. Nature, on the other hand carries out its processes fixed on survival in the present (which did for the sabre toothed tiger). This ought to mean that we can genetically engineer our way out of potential trouble. Climate change? Why not genenetically engineer a strain of rice or wheat that can grow in the desert?

Surely it is a gift! (Echoes of Boromir in Lord of the Rings, but similarity does not stop there). Like any technology (or the Ring) it is not the technology itself that is 'good' or 'evil' but the use to which it is put. And that its the problem. Mankind, with its current aspirations cannot be trusted. Too often have corners been cut in pharmaceutical field trials with tragic results, as the Thalidomide children found to their cost. So long as the imperative to carry out genetic research is profit and not the common good, this should be a technology that should be kept in the box. The thought of having a few corporations that produce cereal plants with 'terminator genes' so that they are effectively barren which cross pollinates with plants without the gene and thereby makes them barren too, can only result in further growth of corporate superpowers to the cost of the many poor who already struggle to live.

Slingers

2006-10-31T11:36:00.001Z

The Sling
I've been reading about slings, the oldest projectile weapon known to man and made famous by the biblical story of David and Goliath. An accomplished slinger is able to achieve a range of approximately 500 metres (550 yards)- The length of a par 5 hole of a golf course and the projectile travels up to a speed of 400 kph (250 mph) - The speed of a formula 1 car going flat out. This is truly amazing considering the technology involves no more than a piece of string and stones. The ammunition is plentiful and cheap and the sling has no parts to go wrong. If it does break it is easily repaired. However, In tests carried out by the Leeds Armoury, the maximum distance achievable was 160 yards (far more believable), although the individual carrying out the test says that this may be due to a lack of technique on his part. More information can be found here: www.slinging.org

So my weekend project will be to make a sling to throw tennis balls. This will be dual purpose: it can be used as a lead for Flora and tennis ball launcher for her to chase.

Shed works

2005-06-06T09:44:00.001Z

Feeling absolutely knackered. Spent the whole weekend reorganising the shed. Three trips to the rubbish dump and two shelving units built. Got rid of the old kitchen unit I was using as a workbench. Next project is to build a proper workbench and not rely on the portable.

Took Flora to Richmond Park, tried Ham Gate for a change. She liked the pond.

Perfect ordinary day with a dark cloud

2005-06-03T08:58:00.001Z

Lovely ordinary day. F-- y cooked asparagus and sausages on the BBQ. Talk is that we are going to merge and that there will be a big announcement in the first two weeks of June.

Bought some more stuff for the travel kit, including a firelighter. The trick to getting it to work is to put the metal striking surface on top of the tinder, not under it.

CE’s funeral is on 14th June. He died of cancer last week. He was a good colleague, so full of fun and will be sadly missed.

The Kit

2005-06-02T08:59:00.001Z

Prepared travel 'medical kit'. The first aid kit will probably need to be supplemented, but everything else is there. Needs a door contact/electric eye burglar alarm.

Started 'Jade Empire' - enjoying it.

Everybody has turned 40

2005-06-01T09:26:00.001Z

Phil and Alan's 40th birthday presents - chest from Tuscany, handmade books, inpots, sealing wax and seals, crowsquill etc.

Met up at the Raddison hotel for drinks at 6.30 (I stopped off at Orc's nest and picked up a couple of games and a D&D player's manual on the way).

Saw the movie, Revenge of the Sith, and had a chinese afterwards. Movie SFX brilliant, but acting still laughable and wooden in parts. Nevertheless general impression was good based on the 'didn't notice time passing' principle.

Got home late - Flora very excited.

Bournmouth with Charlie and Ilsa

2005-06-01T09:21:00.001Z

Went to Bournmouth for the bank holiday weekend to stay with Charlie & Ilsa. Also there were Belinda and Jason and Alex and Caroline. Much fun had with Flora on the beach (until a grumpy old man told us she wasn't allowed there). Poole potteries disappointing. Cool street in Poole with craft, model, comic and game shops. Lots of BBQ food and wine at home. Hilarious game of Jenga, Boules and Cranium.

Stopped off to see Uncle John on the way back to London. He was very pleased to see us and about to go on a balloon trip. Quick diversion through the New Forest on the way home. Flora meets the new forest ponies - they have just foaled.

Drinks with Paul and Kate at home. Discussing fence arrangements.