Now as then

"Carving is easy, you just go down to the skin and stop." - Michelangelo

Pot97pouri

I am not old enough to have seen Peter Green in his prime, but the former Mrs Epictetus and I did get to see him in 2009 when he did a low key tour. Musically it was very good, although understandably he didn't engage with the audience at all. Lovers of trivia may wish to know that he performed that night in a hat very reminiscent of those favoured by Benny from Crossroads. There have been those who have, and in the very recent past too, mocked such headgear; I trust that you are now suitably sorry for your actions.

I have been asked what happened in the 'Square Bashing' game, reports on which ended rather abruptly. You may remember that it had been that British turn to move next, and that their situation appeared to be hopeless. It appeared that way because it was in fact hopeless (*). The only sensible thing for them to do was to retreat, but as you will also remember I had been reading C.S. Forester's 'The General', in which such behaviour is forbidden regardless of logic or cost in human life. I therefore decided that, guided by this philosophy, the British would attack to attempt to recapture their lost positions. To cut a long story short, they didn't, rendering their situation some way beyond hopeless, and leading to me clearing the table. No photos were taken.

Lots of musicians have been recording concerts with no audience during these troubled times, and blog favourites The Heimatdamisch are no exception. Here's an excerpt, but be warned that what the trumpeter does at the beginning is most definitely not the recommended method of ensuring that surfaces are free of the virus. Conny seems to have spent the whole of lockdown on a sunbed, but I for one am glad to once again get the chance to admire her lungs.

* Your bloggist has been reading too much Douglas Adams recently.

Oh, but I would be if I could

Castle update

"There are no rules of architecture for a castle in the clouds." - G.K. Chesterton

My castle - actually I think these are town walls; the castle proper will come later - has reached a stage whereby it can form a circuit. It's been a slow process because firstly there has been some sort of virus thingy going around; secondly the actual cutting bit is rather boring; and thirdly because I'm not very good at the design phase and always end up doing new element types at least twice. The sections are in various stages of painting and none are finished.

Next steps are an internal corner section, some corner towers and who knows what else.

Gerocognition

The Tangerine Turd seems have a bee in his bonnet about proving his (entirely imaginary) mental capacity, which rather reminds me of this:

During a visit to the local psychiatric hospital, Donald asked the Director how they determined whether or not a patient should be institutionalised.

"It's simple actually," said the Director. "We fill up a bathtub, then we offer a teaspoon, a teacup and a bucket to the patient. We ask him or her to empty the bathtub."

"I understand." said Donald "Obviously a normal person would choose the bucket because it's bigger than the spoon or the teacup."

"No. A normal person would pull the plug and let it drain. Do you want a bed near the window?"

Here's Little Feat with 'Fat Man in the Bathtub':

From someone else's correspondents

"The proper definition of a man is an animal that writes letters." - Lewis Carroll

It has long been a maxim of mine that if you don't blow your own trumpet then someone else will use it as a spittoon. For considerably less time than that, I have held the view that I must surely be able to squeeze a blog post out of the contents of the current issue of The Economist. So, bringing those two principles together can I highlight the letter in this week's magazine comparing Dominic Cummings to Sejanus; a comparison made on this blog on the 26th May.

While I'm on the subject of such correspondence, there was a letter from a seismologist in the New Scientist a couple of weeks ago, complaining about their misuse of the word 'epicentre' to simply mean 'centre'. This obviously caused me some concern, as I faced having to rewrite a large number of past entries of my blog (in a manner reminiscent of you know who), even assuming that I could find a phrase as mellifluous as 'wargaming epicentre of the lower Wharfe valley' with which to replace it. So I reached for my dictionary and found that although the first definition of epicentre is 'the point directly above the focus of an earthquake', the second definition is a synonym of centre. So, vindicated again. Having said that, 'wargaming hypocentre of the lower Wharfe valley' is growing on me for sure.

Rock and Roll

Obviously the main purpose of yesterday's photo was to demonstrate that in the early seventies it was possible to be a wargamer and also to be one of the cool kids. I think that it is case proved myself, although it has subsequently been suggested to me that the clothes and hair on display aren't helping my argument very much. I don't agree, except possibly for Kitty Loewenstein's jacket and also the rather unfortunate hat being sported in the back row by someone apparently taking fashion tips from Benny out of Crossroads.

Anyway, for no particular reason here's some music - and some clothes - from about the same period:

Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells

The lack of posting recently has of course been caused by lack of inspiration. Luckily several complaints have been received here at the Casa Epictetus, which gives me something write about.

Firstly, Don has taken offence at my suggestion that he hasn't aged well. I withdraw that comment absolutely; Don is still the svelte young man that he used to be. Indeed, I can go further: he is at least twice the svelte young man that he used to be.

Secondly, I have had an email from Peter in which he refutes the suggestion that he fell off his horse and hurt his keg (sic). I am very pleased to hear that; no one knows better than your bloggist how one's social life can be affected by a less than fully functional barrel. It was of course James who originated the story in his blog, but nevertheless I am happy to make it clear that Peter was at all times in control of what he was doing.

Peter also mentioned seeing the BBC documentary on Persian history, which makes me think that I may have been searching in the wrong place for the other two episodes and so I shall take another look. Nundanket (and apologies for the capital letter) asks about the reference in Wodehouse to Jamshyd. It is in a passage in 'Summer Lightning' - one of the Blandings novels -about Hugo Carmody (a minor character then acting as secretary to the Earl of Emsworth) and is an allusion to FitzGerald's 'translation' of the Rubaiyat. Perhaps had it been found in Wodehouse's other well-known series of books, it would have come from the mouth of the erudite Jeeves rather than that of his young master.

Shahnameh

"They say the Lion and the Lizard keep

The courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep"

- The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

Following a recommendation on nundanket's blog, I watched the first part of the recent BBC series on Persian Art. I enjoyed it - despite it following the BBC's house rules of the presenter starting by telling us that she was going on a journey to discover stuff; silly me for assuming that she got the gig because she already knew it - and would have watched the other parts if I hadn't faffed about for so long that they had vanished from iPlayer. I had never before heard of the Shahnameh, the national epic poem of the country, the stories in which the programme compared to what we know of actual history. The very next day I was reading some P.G. Wodehouse and there was a reference to Jamshyd. The name seemed familiar and, sure enough a quick google showed him to be one the mythical rulers whose adventures are contained in the work. It's a small world.

Edouard/Édouard

“The rain set early in tonight,

The sullen wind was soon awake,

It tore the elm-tops down for spite,

And did its best to vex the lake:

I listened with heart fit to break.

When glided in Porphyria; straight

She shut the cold out and the storm,

And kneeled and made the cheerless grate

Blaze up and all the cottage warm;”

- Robert Browning

For reasons that are no doubt perfectly logical it is only winter storms which are named in the UK. So when two weeks ago we were hit with hailstones the size of eggs and my garden was flooded twice, once because the hail was so intense that it washed the moss off the roof and blocked the gutters, it didn't have a name. A few days ago the wind was so strong that it broke off a sizeable chunk of the tree outside my house. On that occasion the branch - big enough to be used as a social distancing measuring stick (old school) - blew down the road at great speed causing cars to have to swerve out of its way, but still no name. Yesterday, the media got very excited about the approach of what is apparently known to everyone except the Met Office as Storm Edouard - and there's a definite touch of Johnny Foreigner about that name - to the extent that I planned a day inside. And what happened? It rained a bit, which, let's be frank, is not that unknown in the UK in July.

What I would have been doing if not for Edouard

Anyway, in the end I have managed to achieve a few wargames related things. I have had another try at washing figures in my new ultrasonic bath, and I think I have revised upwards my impression. It's all subjective, and the proof of the pudding will be when the paint doesn't flake off, but I think it's actually a pretty effective method. I have only tried it on metal figures so far and will have to report back when I have had a go with some plastic figures. I have almost, but not quite, finished off the couple of dozen ancient Britons which were left half-painted when lockdown commenced and were then never touched despite all the time I had to do so. The auxiliary cavalry command set that's next up has highlighted the limited extent of my reference library for the Romans. I have far more books on, for example, the Mexican Revolution despite not gaming that at all. The problem is that it contains a Vexillarius, and I could work out what he had on his head. Most online sources suggest an animal skin - although there is no unanimity about which - but the only animal it could plausibly be is a donkey, and I find that most unlikely. I have continued my reading of 'Infamy, Infamy' - another typo on page 22; come on Don, get a grip - but really need to set something up and work through it. That of course means either finishing off or abandoning the game currently set up.

And last, but not least I have had a go on the laser cutter for the first time since February. It was hard enough remembering how to get into the workshop, let alone how the machine itself worked, but it is another small step forwards.

A good hobby for an anxious time

It's been a long time since I abandoned the frivolity of reading the wargames press and limited myself to magazines of a more serious nature. I was therefore temporarily thrown when, on turning the pages of this week's issue of The Economist, I came across a photograph of the Perry Twins - the one below in fact. It was adorning a brief article about wargaming, which does indeed describe what we do as 'a good hobby for an anxious time'. Unsurprisingly, given his audience, the writer concentrates mainly on the business element of things. The effect of the pandemic has, according to Alan Perry, been "like two Christmas' worth of demand"; so someone's happy then. I also wasn't previously aware that Games Workshop now has a higher stock market valuation than Marks & Spencer. Who'd have thought there were more orc fanciers than there are lovers of the polyester trouser?

In the background of that photo is what appears to be an authentic piece of nineteenth century military headgear. It got me wondering where I had previously seen a well-known wargames figure sculptor with the same type of items displayed prominently; and then it occurred to me. I offer absolutely no apologies for revisiting this old favourite:

For those without any patience, Mrs Hinton's first appearance wearing military uniform can be found 1 minute 48 seconds in; don't ask me how I know.

Shaking All Over

I have acquired an ultrasonic bath. While my reasons for purchasing it were not wargaming related, it would have been remiss of me not to try it out on some figures as a method of cleaning them prior to painting. These is the Early Imperial Roman Auxiliary Cavalry Command pack from Newline Designs.

Whilst I have no way of objectively measuring it, my best guess is that it has made no difference when compared with just soaking them in some warm soapy water for a while. Still, what's the point in having toys if you don't use them.

Actual Arrival of New Rules

I have received my pre-ordered copy of 'Infamy, Infamy', the latest rules from the Too Fat Lardies, complete with pack of cards and some game markers.

I haven't read much of them yet, having been distracted by the credit and name check given on page 1 to Don, my first ever wargaming opponent from fifty plus years ago. Fortunately there is no photograph; the poor old sod hasn't aged well at all. I wonder if it's him that's to blame for the typo on page 6.

I shall definitely give them a go and, given that I know Peter has also bought a copy, there may be some support in getting it into the schedule. However, no one knows when wargaming is likely to start up again and the longer the delay the more figures that James will have added to his Peninsular War set up; it would, of course, be rude not to christen those.

Anyway, that all gives more time to ponder the question of basing.The sabot bases which I already have aren't for the same size as the units specified here. My initial reaction was to bodge it some way, but on the other hand I do have access to a laser cutter....