2019

I don't often get predictions right (you will recall that a couple of months before the election I forecast that Jezza was about to resign), but I was bang on the money this time last year when I said that 2019 would be even worse than 2018; by and large indeed it was. Perhaps that's why this year I have been unusually reticent in inflicting on you my opinions of all the plays etc wot I have seen, but let's have a quick retrospective summary now; be warned, for some reason this is all a lot more quantitative than it is qualitative.

Opera: I saw twenty six operas this year, plus two ballets and a sprinkling of classical concerts. The operas ranged in obscurity from Pfitzner's 'The Christmas Elf', of which I saw the first ever UK performance, to La boheme, which is - I think - the most frequently performed opera that there is globally. My favourite was Vaughan William's 'Pilgrim's Progress' with a nod to Janáček's 'Cunning Little Vixen' and Martinů's 'The Greek Passion'.

Theatre: I saw fifty two plays and musicals of which my favourite was 'Wise Children' from the wonderful company of the same name. A very honourable mention must go to 'Tuesdays with Morrie'. My favourite Shakespeare (out of the thirteen that I saw) was a toss up between 'The Merry Wives of Windsor' at the Globe and Northern Broadsides' 'Much Ado About Nothing'. This section seems an appropriate place for the following photo, which I have been looking for a chance to use for some months and which if nothing else illustrates that Chekhov can actually be made interesting:

Music: I only went to twenty three gigs, which is pretty pathetic really. My favourite were The Stumble whom I saw twice. Their live performances do not translate into their recordings, which is often the case and another reason why I should go to more live shows.

By the way, the lady on your bloggist's left in that photo is a regular, and somewhat wild, audience member at blues gigs around here, indeed she is the instrument fingerer mentioned in this previous post; I could tell you some stories about her, but frankly she terrifies me so I won't.

Film: I've seen sixteen films and am going to choose 'Stan and Ollie' as my favourite; what can I say, I'm a big softie. I made a special trip to the Imax in Bradford to see 'Apollo 11' on a big, big screen and am glad that I did. Still today, after fifty years, it's just an astonishing achievement and spectacularly documented in the film.

Talks: The quantity of gigs may have declined, but for some reason the number of talks attended has increased markedly. The best two were both on painting, one on Klimt, the other on Tom Thomson and the Group of Seven. A prize for making a little go a long way goes to Ian Bottomley, Curator Emeritus of Oriental Collections at the Royal Armouries who managed to speak very entertainingly for an hour on the subject of the current whereabouts of those small number of suits of armour which were given as diplomatic gifts to various European royal courts by Japanese trade missions in the sixteenth century. The most irrelevant and off subject question from an audience member - a category that is very keenly contested every year - was the chap who, at a talk about Nietzsche, asked why god had created gay animals in species other than humans. My own unassuming interventions - the incident with the light cavalry sabre notwithstanding - were, of course, always entirely intended to add to the collective enlightenment rather than allow me to show off my own erudition and knowledge.

Books: For those concerned about my apparent compulsion to count things, I don't really; I work it out retrospectively from my diary. The exception is books, where I kept a specific record this year because I thought it would be interesting. Obviously it wasn't in the slightest bit interesting, neither to me nor anyone else, but despite that I now know that I read one hundred and thirteen books, the pick of which was 'Winged Victory' by V.M. Yeates, which of course has a wargamer friendly theme. Another book I very much enjoyed which falls into that category is 'The March' by E.L. Doctorow; the march in question being that of Sherman.

Boardgames: I played fifty eight different games seventy eight times (figures courtesy of boardgamegeek). Top marks for a game I hadn't played previously go to Quartermaster General: Cold War, which I have no qualms in recommending to wargamers, and the same is true of my top solo game recommendation, Maquis. I hope to step up my boardgaming a bit next year, although the Monday night Yew Tree group has become very dull and cliquey so I may have to look elsewhere.

Wargames: I played or umpired in, I think, twenty three games, many of which were played over two or three weeks. They focussed mainly on James new Peninsular war collection plus, it shouldn't be forgotten, his new bridges. In the annexe it was mainly Great War, but there was a smattering of other stuff as well. My favourite game, apart from my one-sided triumph at Fiasco, was the relatively recent Battle of San Winnoc.

Event of the Year: Newspapers and magazines inevitably have to choose their picks of the year early in order to meet deadlines. Your bloggist has the luxury of posting this on the afternoon of December 31st and can therefore make sure that nothing will overtake what he writes. Or so you would think. Last year I was awakened at 23:45 or so - being teetotal I avoid going out on New Year's Eve and therefore retire early - by the younger Miss Epictetus who wished to inform me that she had got engaged, an event which clearly would have merited inclusion right at the top of my round up of 2018 had she told me a tad earlier. So, this year's choice is caveated by pointing out that it is subject to nothing better happening in the next few hours. However, I think it unlikely that anything will beat this:

Finally, let's hope next year is better than we're all expecting, especially for you and yours.

Peace and love to all.

..and the tortoise crawls

I have been to see the exhibition Troy: Myth and Reality at the British Museum. I won't write too much about it in detail - there are many reviews online which do that - but I do recommend seeing it if you get the chance.

It's broken into three sections. Firstly, Homer's poetry as represented on various artefacts from almost contemporaneously with him through to the end of the classical era. This section is mainly focussed on a few episodes spanning the whole story from the judgement of Paris via the dispute over Briseis and its consequences in the deaths of Patroclus, Hector etc, the ruse of the horse, and right through to Odysseus' return to the waiting Penelope.

The second section features the excavations of the the real Troy and contains many objects found by Schliemann and the third consists of post-classical representations of the myth.

As I say, I thought it was excellent. I especially liked the very stylised outline representation of the Trojan Horse through which one had to pass between the first two parts of the exhibition. Disappointingly I felt no urge for some early Bronze Age wargaming, but perhaps the idea will grow on me.

Mechanics, Dynamics, Aesthetics

"Oh the places you'll go! 

 There is fun to be done! 

 There are points to be scored. 

 There are games to be won."

   - Dr Seuss

If I was going to sum up the aim of our recent run of Peninsular Napoleonic games it would be to design a set of rules that meet a certain standard of historicity (as we see it) and are fun to play. The second of those concepts is even more nebulous than the first, but I have come across an academic paper (which can be found here) that attempts to provide a structured taxonomy of what that word might mean in the context of games. The paper is well worth reading, and in case you are worried is not very long. Anyone who has played wargames or boardgames (and probably computer games; I have absolutely no experience of these and so can't comment) will recognise the classifications that the authors put forward even if you don't agree fully with all of them.

Not least among the paper's virtues is that, as an illustration, it puts forwards some suggestions as to how one might make Monopoly worth playing, and almost has one believing they could work. Almost.

Gut Yontiff

“There are some upon this earth of yours who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name; who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us.”

                 - Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

In which Epictetus gets trollied

One drawback of being at the Stoic end of the philosophical spectrum is that one tends to put up with things; it sort of goes with the territory. And so it has proved with the impact of the leaking boiler on figure painting, which has rather dragged on throughout November and December and looks as if it's set to roll on into January as well. So, I have eventually decided that enough is enough and have invested in a hobby trolley in which to store work in progress.

In the background you can see the currently unavailable cupboard. And yes, that dining chair is as uncomfortable as it looks. Anyway, stuff has been relocated back indoors making it more accessible, with the added benefit of freeing up the gaming table.

Note the terracotta undercoat which your bloggist favours, mainly because it is very forgiving if you miss a bit later on in the process. I'm rather pleased with this new acquisition, although obviously not to the extent of actually doing any painting yet; that would be too much to expect.

Adiós, Mi España Querida

The conclusion of the last wargame of the year saw a British win and the poor old French didn't even get the satisfaction of capturing the village they had been attacking for the whole game. They - I - did take the crossroads at the other end of the table, but it proved a short lived triumph because immediately four infantry units all decided they had had enough and left the table at the same time; in a notably more coordinated fashion than anything that had been managed up until that point. The evening also saw a consensus develop in favour of giving the whole skirmisher thing - indeed the whole Peninsular thing - a rest for the time being. There have been one or two false dawns, but we really haven't got anywhere. We shall let our collective subconscious mull it over for a while. In the meantime:New Year, new period.

2020 will also hopefully see some volume laser cutting as both the technology and the bureaucracy seem now to be aligned. The only current hitch is my inability to source my chosen shade of stone effect paint. There is less good news regarding the resumption of figure painting, which is in part dependent on fixing the leak in the boiler. The bit that is positive is that it has been established that the boiler is not in fact leaking. The bad news is that it would appear that there is a leak in the mains supply to the boiler which, and I think you're probably ahead of me, can't be sorted out until the New year.

Kenny Lynch

I am very sorry to read of the death of Kenny Lynch, who was born in the same place as me; which unfortunately was Stepney rather than Barbados.

Back in the 1980s the Labour Party was supported by Red Wedge, a loose collection of hip and happening musicians. The constituency in which I was a member wasn't a high enough target to be graced by them, but we were offered a visit from Kenny Lynch. Sadly I couldn't persuade the agent to accept. As well as singing and acting, Lynch wrote and co-wrote a number of songs for others.

He was, as you will no doubt read in the obituaries, the first artist to record a cover of a Lennon-McCartney song and the connection continued when he appeared on the sleeve photograph for 'Band on the Run'.

The photograph - which also contains a disgraced former Liberal MP - was shot in Osterley Park, another place in London in which I have lived; although, when I think about it, the list of places that I have lived is almost as long as the list of disgraced former Liberal MPs.

I shall say this only once...for now

"Life is a shipwreck, but we must not forget to sing in the lifeboats." - Voltaire 

I feel obliged to mention the election result, albeit only briefly and in passing. Firstly, our Labour and Co-operative MP here in Leeds North West doubled his majority; just saying.

That's Otley in the background

Secondly, people may have wondered why I have spent the last twenty five years telling anyone who would listen that Caroline Flint is a brain-dead poisonous witch (for example here); well, it's because she is.

Voltigeurs, chasseurs ou tirailleurs?

We continue to seek the Goldilocks formula for skirmishers to use with James' not very quickly growing Peninsular War forces, and tried a different version this week. For those interested, the game is going to end in a British victory, but as French commander I hope for one or two tactical successes along the way to make me feel better. Going back to the rules, these aren't minor tweaks, but rather all the things we have tried are radically different in their mechanics, and perhaps unsurprisingly they all seem to have good bits and bad bits. The current version have at least one great virtue - simplicity - and it becoming increasingly obvious why most rules abstract skirmishers out; maybe, just maybe, bears don't really eat porridge.

There has been no further painting due to the ongoing boiler leak, which I hope to have sorted out by next week. I may have said that before. News reaches me that the Two Fat Lardies are currently play testing a set of skirmish rules for Romans and their opponents in the 1st century AD, which I shall have to take a look at when they are released. My source on the inside claims that he is bringing some competition gamer rigour to the drafting of the rules, which would be welcomed I think.

In other news, I have acquired yet more Hexon pulverised ground from eBay and now can't conceive that I shall ever need any more, or indeed as much as I have already got. Access to the laser cutter is not possible at the moment due to a bureaucratic twist which has left me somewhat bemused, but as it happens I am actually happier leaving it all until after Christmas anyway.

Then shriek'd the timid, and stood still the brave

"It’s something like going on an ocean voyage. What can I do? Pick the captain, the boat, the date, and the best time to sail. But then a storm hits… What are my options? I do the only thing I am in a position to do, drown - but fearlessly, without bawling or crying out to God, because I know that what is born must also die."

- Epictetus

The nose has it

I was going to mention the election, but I find that Buddy - who belongs to the younger Miss Epictetus - has said all that needs saying.

There were big queues at the polling station this morning, but that may just be because today's the day when it gets dark earliest; not to be confused with the day in just over a week's time when it gets light latest, and which is also the shortest day. It's been far too long since we had a post about the interplay between the Earth's orbit around the sun, its rotation on its own axis and the angle between that axis and the plane of orbit.

San Winnoc

The battle of San Winnoc reached a conclusion last night. It really was a most enjoyable game, tightly fought over three weeks and with the result in the balance right until the end. Naturally therefore, we are going to change the skirmisher rules again. I will leave it to James to explain the changes and the reasons for them, but I am broadly in agreement. I do however have observations on two other areas of the rules.

Under the traditional way of allocating morale chips each side got a fairly random mix of morale and additional cards for the deck, each of which allowed extra actions such as firing, moving etc over the course of each turn. The revised method seeks to balance these so that one either has more morale but fewer bonus cards, or visa versa. Clearly getting the balance between the two things is problematic, but I think we are all reasonably happy with the first attempts at doing so. In this game the French had the extra cards and the British the extra morale. The French prevailed, but even so I think, given the choice (which one isn't) I'd pick the higher morale every time. The extra cards are only useful if one gets the initiative to use them, whereas the morale is always of value.

More worryingly it seems as if for the last ten years and more I have been playing a completely different rule for automatic melee (i.e. against disorder or shaken units, flanks, skirmishers, or artillery) to that being played by everyone else. I have no reason to claim that my version is better than what appears to be the actual rule, and it would seem that I have been limiting my options somewhat for all that time. I have re-read both the Piquet master rules and James and Peter's Seven Years War set (Lemons Are Not The Only Fruit) and there is absolutely nothing in them on which to base what I was thinking, so there you go; I feel foolish.

Pot89pouri

The central heating saga drifts on, or perhaps I should say 'drips on' as there turns out to be a leak. The whole system is being drained tomorrow, which is something to look forward to. The relevance of this to a wargaming blog is that my painting tray and figures currently being worked on normally live (*) in the cupboard under the boiler and have had to be relocated out into the annexe, so no progress to report there.

However, the laser cutter has been declare operational again - the problem was apparently an incorrectly set bed size - and I have had another go. The reworked town wall section looks fine and is now ready to go into mass production, or at least it will be when I have increased the height of each of the end pieces by one millimetre; a very odd mistake to have made in the first place. I also produced a test of a wall tower, looking at which made me realise what it ought to look like. Actually it ought to look round rather than square, but pragmatism means that square it is. My new idea is somewhat complex, but in theory at least the laser cut pieces will be accurate and will fit together snugly.

The above picture is dual purpose, showing both the one millimetre gap which proves that the theory of snug fitting pieces is subject always to the competence of the chap doing the design, and out of focus off to the right is the cloth soaking up the leak from the radiator.

I had hoped to have welcomed the blog's Luxembourg correspondent to the Casa Epictetus for a visit at some point in the next couple of weeks, but this has been put on hold by what he describes variously as "etwas äußerst Ärgerliches" and "verdammte Scheiße". I suspect that he just doesn't want to run the risk of not being allowed back into mainland Europe after Election Day proves once and for all that the country has gone completely mad and the rest of them decide to quarantine us.


* I do know that they aren't really alive.

Hey Lord, don't ask me questions

After forty years and two false starts I have finally seen Graham Parker play live. As David said here Parker has aged along with the rest of us. In fact I'd go so far as to say that he now looks like Alf Garnett. Given his origins he also unsurprisingly sounds like the man as well; or at least he would if Johnny Speight had made his character an enthusiast for recreational drugs instead of West Ham. Still, despite his tour-strained voice the wait was well worthwhile:

Another act from the distant past that I'd never seen before was Wishbone Ash, who I have caught on their current 50th anniversary tour. Coincidentally, or perhaps not, their original bassist and vocalist Martin Turner is also touring and playing only the band's songs, so I went to see him as well. Both shows were excellent, although I would just give the edge to Turner's, oddly enough for music that is all about the guitars that's because his singing was better. The audience for both - and I don't imagine I was the only overlap - was essentially grizzled old men, and it was rather amusing when they all - including me - leapt into a bopping frenzy at the appropriate point in this song; it certainly takes me back: