Two Poets

Two poets have been in the news. Firstly, Louise Glück won the Nobel Prize for Literature. I rather like the following lines from her poem 'Vespers', which say it like it is, for me at least.

"In your extended absence, you permit me

use of earth, anticipating

some return on investment. I must report

failure in my assignment, principally

regarding the tomato plants."

And Derek Mahon, Irish poet and 'aesthete with a penchant for left-wingery', died at the beginning of the month. He also tells it like it is, this time with perhaps a wider pertinence. These lines are from 'Afterlives':

"What middle-class shits we are

To imagine for one second
That our privileged ideals
Are divine wisdom..."

Milan 1630

I bet you all looked at that title and thought I was going to write about military history, or perhaps I was about to start wargaming a new period. However, and temptingly obscure though the War of the Mantuan Succession would be, neither of those is the case; you know me better than that.

I have been reading Manzoni's 'I Promessi Sposi', the classic of Italian literature which, on the off chance that you don't know it, is a bit Walter Scott, a bit Dickens or Thackeray, but perhaps mostly like Tolstoy. The author dedicates the whole of Chapter 31 to the arrival of the plague in Milan in 1630, and much of what he writes seems worryingly familiar. For example:

"The infection entered through the inadequacies of the edicts, negligence in carrying them out, and adroitness in eluding them."

Plus ca change.

A Question of Balance

 The lack of posts on the blog has been to a great extent driven by a lack of balance in your bloggist. By coincidence the cover story of this week's edition of the New Scientist is about the fact that the population as a whole is falling over more often and that the problem is occurring at a younger age than ever before. They point the finger at less and less physical movement being undertaken by the bone idle denizens of the modern world, or at least that's what I think it said, but the magazine is on the other side of the room and I can't be bothered to go and get it. I have been placed on a regime of Balance Retraining exercises, about which I shall simply say that it is a good job that I live alone. Yoga has been mentioned, as it frequently is, especially by those who don't do it themselves. However, as I can't currently walk in a straight line, the Revolved Bird of Paradise may be some way off.

Anyway, here's some Sam & Dave, dedicated to the fond memory of those who perform the Downward Dog.

Royal Armouries Lectures

 During the last few months I have found that many of the things I enjoyed doing pre-plague aren't anything like as good when one tries to do them online. I appreciate that comment will be misinterpreted in some quarters, so let me be clear that I am talking about opera, theatre, live music etc. However, one thing that seems to work rather well is the giving of talks, and I have watched quite a few now, on subjects such as how the myth of Prometheus has influenced culture, The Beatles and the Sixties Art Scene, and Crusader Arms and Armour from Africa and Asia; and very good they have all been.

The last item on that list was the first of the winter series of lectures from the Royal Armouries, a series which under other circumstances I would have attended many of in person. That's obviously an option for me because I live in Leeds, but their new practice of streaming them means not only that I don't have to get off my arse any more, but that others who are not based in West Yorkshire can see them as easily as me, either live or after the event. A recording of the recent one about 'genuine' Crusader armour and weapons sold to the unwary by Victorian dealers (and they may be fakes, but it's a very interesting story) can already be found here on their YouTube channel. The next two are on the subjects of 'Plug Bayonets' and ' The Development of Gunpowder Weapons in Medieval England', either or both of which may be of interest to either or both of my readers. The lectures are given by staff at the Royal Armouries, so they know their stuff, and are free, which now I think about it was what attracted me in the first place.

Details and a link via which to book can be found on the Royal Armouries website. Presumably future recorded lectures will appear on the YouTube channel, which anyway contains all sorts of fascinating stuff.

Sonnet 113

Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind;
And that which governs me to go about

Doth part his function and is partly blind,
Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
For it no form delivers to the heart
Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch:
Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight,
The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature,
The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
The crow, or dove, it shapes them to your feature.
Incapable of more, replete with you,
My most true mind thus maketh mine eye untrue.

                                   - Shakespeare

Bloody Barons II

 I like to keep an occasional eye on  the most common search terms that have brought people to the blog. Sadly 'gay porn' has disappeared from the list, but thankfully 'beardy Branson is a twat' is hanging in there. Recently, the term 'Bloody Barons II' has appeared. Upon investigation I discovered that I had somehow overlooked the fact that Peter Pig had updated the rules first issued in 2005 and of which I own a copy. Even more investigation revealed that they are in fact a completely new set of rules, but have been given the same name.

My initial reaction was that it was some sort of con; in my defence I'm a bit of a cynic and that is my reaction to most things. However, logic says that it's the opposite that would be a con: the same set of rules with a new name. I don't know why I mention it. In any event I bought a copy.

As a slight digression, I am in the market for a fitness tracker or smartwatch and have been watching a number of YouTube reviews of various options. These influencer chaps - none of whom seem to be at all physically fit despite their interest in health tracking apps - have hit upon a useful trick for stretching out content. They do an 'unboxing' post followed, if one is lucky, by a full review in due course. That doesn't seem a million miles from what I have done (i.e. started to do) with 'Infamy, Infamy', and so this is an unboxing of 'Bloody Barons II':

• They are genuinely a completely different set of rules with, as far as I can see, no mechanisms in common.
• They are recognisably a Peter Pig/Rules for the Common Man ruleset:
• Four base units with casualties removed in half bases
• a pre-battle sequence, this one much simplified compared to others
• random game length
• Very useful playsheets; completely impenetrable main rulebook that seems deliberately written to confuse
• They are gridded with some obvious similarities to 'Square Bashing' e.g. in the morale phase
• There a couple of what look like innovative rules - albeit that for all I know they appear elsewhere in the RFCM canon - such as a phase where movement is by square followed by one where movement is, well, by square, but in a different way. Cavalry also seem to spend all their time off-table until they charge on to the field, melee and then retreat off-table again.
• Includes scenarios for all the battles from the WotR.

One of the things that I didn't like about the original rules was the way that they dealt with mixed bow and bill units, which was far too fiddly for me. These new rules seem to just assume that all units are mixed and abstract it from there, which is rather more to my taste. So, I shall add them to the pile of rules to try, and you can add them to the pile of rules awaiting a full review. Don't hold your breath.

New walls for old

 "Scenery is fine, but human nature is finer" - Keats

What Keats was undoubtedly saying with those words is that whilst most wargamers may desire in principle to have beautiful, lifelike terrain on their tabletops, by and large they are too idle by nature to actually bother much about it. Obviously there are exceptions, all of James' scratchbuilt stuff for example, but I'm not one of them. It is in that context that we must look at my ever growing castle and town wall collection.

Many years ago I made a version in card and the learning from that process has influenced the design this time, including the decision to make it from laser cut wood in the first place, which I may return to another time. The main mistake of my previous attempt was that I used whatever card came to hand and ended up with no standardisation in length. This time everything, more or less, is10cm in length, or possibly 5cm or occasionally 2.5cm. They all fit together anyway. One positive feature was making the width of the wall sufficient for a 40cm deep base, and I have retained that. Before, I had gone for a thin wall with overhang; this time, after reviewing early prototypes, I switched to wider walls. I left the height the same, not least because that's the height of the ladders and assault tower that my armies are equipped with.

One other observation from my first attempt relates to the size of the blocks making up the wall. I quickly found that if one painted them to scale then the relatively small size and regularity that resulted - let's not forgot that the masons who built them really knew what they were doing - made it look like brickwork rather than stonework. So I painted the mortar lines freehand to represent quite large blocks, which looked better to me, although by any objective measure it is a lot less accurate. I have kept to essentially the same principle this time, but after fifteen or so years looking at the old ones, have put in an extra row on the new ones; finetuning if you like.

Oh Oh Domino

 "You may get disgusted, start thinking that I'm strange" - Van Morrison, Domino

I have always believed in the power of music - and envied the ability of composers, musicians and singers - to convey emotions such as love, desire, lust...["OK, calm down, there are plenty of other emotions, you know." (*) ] ... but have never seen its strength as being the explanation of the principles of infection control. So, despite being a huge fan of Van Morrison, I have let his recent rantings about face masks rather pass me by.

"Take off your mask and drink your milk"

I am still, other than in medical situations, rocking a bandana, and have been a bit surprised not to see more of them about. At first, when people commented, I would reply "If it's good enough for John Wayne, then it's good enough for me.", but when it became apparent just how old people had to be before they had even heard of Wayne I quickly stopped.

Should I ever adopt a more straightforward facemask then I shall be sorely tempted by those available from the Royal Armouries. The tosei gusoku has a certain something about it.

* Actually I didn't

Up and down, up and down

 

Nothing ever goes away until it teaches you what you need to know

 “If you desire healing, let yourself fall ill, let yourself fall ill.” - Rumi

A couple of days ago I mentioned that I had been ill, and did so in a somewhat flippant context. Regular readers, especially those who have remember the events of almost exactly four years ago, will know what happened next. On Thursday evening a blue-light ambulance duly arrived and carted me off to A&E. It was, as you might expect, pretty deserted - although there was the usual quota of drunks accompanied by police officers - and was a somewhat more pleasant experience than on the previous occasion. Except, that is, for the most painful injection that I can ever remember having. I also had a brain scan; they didn't find anything.

Boom Boom

I have been given some medication whose side effect is to leave me lethargic and drowsy, although you'll have to take my word for it that things are worse than usual. In any event, no painting is likely in the immediate future. There has been one unexpected benefit in the form of the reappearance of the wise woman of Thornton, the estimable Coral Laroc. Coral last featured on here when I recounted the story of the cat, and has understandably been keeping her distance ever since. However, she has used her mystic powers (*) to get in touch and say that she is 'sending some healing'. I think we can safely assume that this will set back my recovery by some time, but I'm sure that she means well.

For reasons that I don't really understand, mentions of Coral in this blog get more reaction from readers than those about any other woman except those actually wearing male military uniform. I think therefore it is time to pass on how you can follow her adventures directly. Firstly, for cat lovers, I must sadly report that the cat is no longer with her. She had to pass it on because - as the episode in my kitchen proved - it doesn't fit with her lifestyle. "What is this lifestyle?", I hear you ask. Well, I would describe it as a odd mix of superannuated YouTube influencer, peripatetic D-i-Y woman, and 'Carry On' film tribute act. For those with nothing better to do, she can be found here. Please don't give her money or encourage her in any other way.

* WhatsApp

Advice to the Officers of the British Army

 Speaking of drumming yesterday reminded me that the book 'Advice to the Officers of the British Army', which I believe that I quoted from at the beginning of the recent troubles, is subtitled 'with the addition of some hints to the drummer and private soldier'. I'm not sure how well known the book is, and I'm pretty sure that it's currently out of print. My own copy is dated 1946 and that may well be the last time it was issued.

The book was originally published anonymously, but is generally accepted to have been by Francis Grose, a noted eighteenth century antiquarian. He may have decided to withhold his identity because whilst a militia officer (he had previously served as a regular in both the 19th foot and the 10th dragoons) he was entrusted with the funds from the officers mess and apparently managed to mislay much of it. The book is a satire ('1066 And All That' is as good a reference point as I can think of, although Grose's book isn't as funny as Yeatman and Sellar's) and may have been written in response to the debacle (from a British perspective) of the American Revolution.

The shortish book isn't relevant solely to the British army of that period, or even just to the military. A great deal of it has a sort of universal applicability.  Indeed, while we are speaking of shambles being carried on by the British government, this is included in his chapter addressed to the commanding officer:

"As you probably did not rise to your present distinguished rank by your own merit, it cannot reasonably be expected that you should promote others on that score. Above all, be careful never to promote an intelligent officer; a brave, chuckle-headed fellow will do full as well to execute your orders. An officer that has an iota of knowledge above the common run, you must consider as your personal enemy; for you may be sure he laughs at you and your manoeuvres.

A principal part of your duty is to see justice distributed amongst your troops. Military law being so summary and concise, you will not find this a difficult matter: but if, simple as it is, you should be entirely unacquainted with it, you may substitute your own goodwill and pleasure - and that, in fact, must be justice."

Pot99pouri

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."

 - Henry David Thoreau

I have been laid low with a virus - thankfully a different one to the one everyone else has - and, to preempt your question, I have no idea how I could have picked it up given the current restrictions on doing anything that makes life worthwhile. Laid low is the precise medical term as my balance has been all to pot; it was all rather unpleasant, as was the treatment, which involved drugs being blown forcefully up my nose. Anyway, mustn't grumble.

I'm not sure if it was the illness or just the general lying around, but I have been experiencing vivid dreams. After the latest I woke up with the thought in my mind that it was odd how many of those that I had played wargames with I had also seen perform on Top of the Pops, added to which notion was a mental image of Tim Tennant playing the drums. I did wonder if the rock music element of the dream was in any way related to the drugs up the nose situation, but that's just speculation. Anyway, getting back to Tim, I appreciate that very few of you will have met him, but as far as I am aware he has never actually been a member of a popular beat combo. However, were he so to have been, I think it highly plausible that he would have been found in the rhythm section. I am therefore going to count this episode as a demonstration of the mysterious truths that we would find in our dreams if we only knew how to look. 

Tim displays his brushes to good effect

Perhaps it's time I got round to re-interpreting the one with the harem and the raincoat.

Don't Call Me Ludwig

“Alas, he is so handsome and wise, soulful and lovely, that I fear that his life must melt away in this vulgar world like a fleeting dream of the gods.” - Richard Wagner about King Ludwig II of Bavaria

Ludwig was a big fan of opera, liked building grandiose castles, and was, or at least was considered to be, mad. Be that as it may, opera having been welcomed back to the blog yesterday, it's now time for the return of something vaguely related to wargaming, namely another progress update on the castle.

As previously the pieces are at various stages of painting. It hasn't been good spraying weather recently. I have also changed the undercoat colour, and not entirely because I ran out of the other one. I think black will help to cover the joins.  

I had decided to wait until I had finished making all the pieces before painting on the mortar lines to show the individual stone blocks. However, 'finished' doesn't appear that easy to define. One element of a modular system is that one never uses all the pieces at the same time anyway. So, perhaps it's time to get on with some of the finer detailing.

Rue, Britannia

 I mentioned recently that I had been to an outdoor, socially distanced opera. Well, now I've been to another, so I'd better write about them.

First up was the dress rehearsal of a short, family friendly version of Humperdinck's 'Hansel and Gretel' that Opera North are touring as 'Whistle Stop Opera', with four singers and an accordion . It was excellent in every way: musically of course, it didn't rain, it was free, and, probably most important to me anyway, it was a small, small step towards some sort of a hint of a return to normality. It took place in the car park of the UK's oldest surviving working men's club, which is in an inner city area a kilometre or so south of central Leeds. The entire audience was made up of middle class visitors whilst the locals ignored events completely.

Also excellent - and free - was Northern Opera Group's performance of Thomas Arne's 'Thomas & Sally', which was one of the few elements of this year's Leeds Opera Festival not to be online. Taking place in a small park between a multi-story car park and a shopping centre (and which for the first time that I can ever recall contained no winos) it was billed as a one-act comic opera. I didn't laugh once, and it had two acts, but nevertheless it was very good. Perhaps the comic part is simply that the soprano not only doesn't die, but even gets to marry her sweetheart in the end. 

Now you'e all thinking to yourselves, "Thomas Arne, where do I know that name from?". Well, I suspect that you are bringing to mind the rousing choral finale to his opera 'Alfred' (as in 'the Great'), a song beloved of racist simpletons and rabble-rousing demagogues alike.

As a different song puts it:

"Land of hopeless Tories, 

Mother of the Sleaze" 

N.B. Credit for both cartoon and lyrics to Martin Rowson

On dit que le destin se moque bien de nous

 I'm back. I'm tempted to pretend that I've been on a week long mescalin trip, but I think we all know that actually I have been doing sudoku and listening to the cricket. I have been to see an outdoor, socially-distanced opera production, but I'll come back to that later.

In the meantime, here's the former first lady of France singing a poem by W.B. Yeats.

Pot98bpouri

 Some questions have arrived at the Casa Epictetus, and I am inclined to answer them:

Q1: Can you tell us how you hurt your neck? No, mind your own business, although I will confirm that no horses were involved

Q2: There is previous evidence that you are a Brentford supporter. Can you explain how they went overnight from being the form team not just in the division, or even in the country, but on the planet, to coming fourth in a two horse race? I have absolutely no comment to make on this subject.

Q3: Has any light been thrown on why someone thought it would be a good idea to donate a hand grenade to charity? No.

Q4: Is it the case that you set off the smoke alarm while using the laser cutter and a fire engine turned up? There may possibly be some truth in this. In my defence, setting fire to pieces of wood is an intrinsic part of the activity, and I was wearing a mask and therefore unable to smell anything.

Q5: How can you justify your assertion in the comments section a couple of days ago that there is a mathematical joke to suit all occasions? At last, a sensible question:

A mathematician is tired of maths and decides to become a fireman. At the fire station they give him a test to check his suitability. He is told to imagine a skip full of combustible material, a hose and a tap and asked what he would do if the skip were on fire. 

The mathematician replies, "Well, I put the hose on the tap, turn the water on, and put out the fire." Obviously that is the correct answer so they move on to the second question. The mathematician is asked what he would do if, on a fire inspection, he came across the same skip full of combustible material. "That's straightforward," he says " I would set fire to it."

This causes a certain amount of bewilderment so they ask him why. "Well," the mathematician replies, "that way I reduce the problem to one that I've already solved."

Pot98apouri

 Fingers have been pointed at the lack of wargaming content hereabouts. The natural response to that would be to publish (yet) another post on some random other subject, but I shall not stoop to that. (Although stay tuned for an entirely non-wargaming Question and frankly not many Answers session tomorrow.) Instead, let us consider developments in what, you will recall, the Economist described as 'a good hobby for an anxious time'.

Well, and obviously, I haven't got any myself, otherwise I would have written about it already. In common with a number of other bloggers I posted to say that I had received my copy of 'Infamy, Infamy' and implied that I would try it out and/or review it and then post again. In common with many of those other bloggers, I haven't done either. I therefore broke my recent habit and bought a copy of the July/August issue of Wargames Soldiers and Strategy, which carries a review therein. I haven't read it yet, but when I do you know that you can rely on me to post about it here.

Not reading wargames magazines and the lack of shows to attend means that I am sadly off the pace in understanding what's hip and happening. It would be nice if I could rely on the blogs which I read to keep me abreast of things, but disappointingly they do tend to wander off topic rather a lot, writing about walking, swimming, cycling and suchlike nonsense. In any event, I was surprised, but intrigued, to come across a reference to Wofun Games. Firstly, that's a terrible name, and the full name - World of Fun Games - is even worse. However, I did find the concept interesting. What they do, as you probably already know, is produce plexiglass flats for a number of different periods. For at least some of those periods the figures are based on drawings from the range of Peter Dennis Paper Soldiers books published by Helion. It may be that, like me, you have looked at those books and asked yourself "Can I be arsed to photocopy, cut out and mount all these?" and then, also like me, replied in the negative. Well, now you don't have to, all you have to do is put your hand in your pocket. I confess to being tempted by one of the periods available, although not tempted enough to actually do anything about it.

A mere seven years ago, I heralded the imminent arrival of new set of rules for horse and musket sieges, called Vauban's Wars. Following an astonishingly short development programme they are to be published next month. I am quietly confident that a set will find its way to Ilkley, hypocentre of wargaming in the lower Wharfe valley, and the Peninsular war would appear to be an obvious setting for giving them a try. From what I have seen so far, I would imagine that there will be many elements which will be transferable to other periods. And, as regular readers will know, I have a shedload of equipment for medieval sieges. All I need is something to besiege.

Which seems an appropriate place to put a photo showing current progress on what is turning into the most expensive toy castle in the world. Spraying is slow at the moment, because being the English summer it rains most days. However, designs are in place for the castle which will sit in one corner of the town above (you can see one piece of wall towards the top right of the picture), so the project is still very much moving forward.

Small bomb thrown by hand

My absence from these pages has been primarily because I hurt my neck and sitting at the computer has been rather uncomfortable. In truth it has also been in part because nothing of interest has happened to me or indeed anywhere near me. However, I was awoken from my torpor today when the centre of town was suddenly sealed off by the police and several buildings evacuated. It turned out that someone had donated a hand grenade to Oxfam. As you do.

A better man than me could probably make a joke out of the fact that since shops are only accepting contactless payment at the moment, anyone who bought the grenade from Oxfam wouldn't need a PIN. However, until that better man comes along, we are left with the one about the mathematician being trained to use grenades. He was told to pull the pin and then count down from three before throwing it. It blew up when he reached minus six.

Drink responsibly

 

The Definition of Love

My love is of a birth as rare

As ’tis for object strange and high;

It was begotten by Despair

Upon Impossibility.

Magnanimous Despair alone

Could show me so divine a thing

Where feeble Hope could ne’er have flown,

But vainly flapp’d its tinsel wing.

And yet I quickly might arrive

Where my extended soul is fixt,

But Fate does iron wedges drive,

And always crowds itself betwixt.

For Fate with jealous eye does see

Two perfect loves, nor lets them close;

Their union would her ruin be,

And her tyrannic pow’r depose.

And therefore her decrees of steel

Us as the distant poles have plac’d,

(Though love’s whole world on us doth wheel)

Not by themselves to be embrac’d;

Unless the giddy heaven fall,

And earth some new convulsion tear;

And, us to join, the world should all

Be cramp’d into a planisphere.

As lines, so loves oblique may well

Themselves in every angle greet;

But ours so truly parallel,

Though infinite, can never meet.

Therefore the love which us doth bind,

But Fate so enviously debars,

Is the conjunction of the mind,

And opposition of the stars.

                          - Andrew Marvell

Zodiacal Light?

“Sometimes these flashes of normality come at me from the side, like ambushes. The ordinary, the usual, a reminder, like a kick.”
                                                - Margaret Atwood

So, there was I thinking that wargaming would never be the same again when, out of the blue, comes an email from James saying that he has changed the morale rules.

Yorkshire Day/Schweizer Bundesfeiertag Mubarak

There has suddenly been a flurry of hits on the very first post on this blog from 2012. I fully appreciate that the quality has diminished quite a lot since those days, and so presumably do the discerning readers who have restricted themselves to a single post from eight years ago. At that time I blogged fairly frequently about being a wargamer who didn't game. Why then, now I am in the same position of not gaming, am I not blogging about it? (The rhetorical questions were much better back then as well.) Rhetorical or not it's a good question, especially as Ilkley, which we must now learn to refer to as the hypocentre of wargaming in the lower Wharfe valley, has been suddenly locked down again, implying that there will be no quick return to the table. In the somewhat arbitrary nature of the way in which the UK government is behaving (which you will correctly interpret as a euphemism for 'it's a complete shitshow') the place where your bloggist blogs has not been affected beyond me having to wait another couple of weeks should I require either an intimate waxing or to go ten pin bowling. For the sizeable Muslim population in the areas which have been re-restricted it has been a much bigger issue because yesterday was Eid al-Adha (and a belated Eid Mubarak to them); it was a bit like telling most people on Christmas Eve that they couldn't have lunch with their relatives the following day.

A little piece of Switzerland in Yorkshire

I haven't seen any strong protests from those wishing to celebrate Yorkshire Day (which is today of course) by scoring a few strikes or by having a Brazilian, but no doubt the locals will be consoling themselves by telling anyone who will listen that the face masks are bigger in God's Own County than they are anywhere else. Eid, which means 'feast' in Arabic, also means 'oath' in German and today is also Swiss National Day celebrating (near enough) the day in 1291 when three cantons swore the oath of confederation. Sadly, when you look at it in detail, Swiss National Day turns out to be even more of a recent and contrived invention than Yorkshire Day is, on top of which Yorkshire is bigger. God, I'm starting to go native.

This mask is not from Yorkshire

So, to wrap up, here's Rossini via Yorkshire with some memorable music about a Swiss terrorist/freedom fighter:

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....