Move it!

There's not enough Cliff Richard on this blog:

Pot59pouri

"Our lives are full of empty space" - Umberto Eco

The big bouncy woman is in vacanza and in her absence I am somewhat bereft. Any others - and I am neither confirming nor denying that there are others - are just not, in the words of T.S. Eliot, as "bavard, baveux, à la croupe arrondie".

But enough of that, and back to politics. I wanted to pass on a link to a blog post regarding the Labour Party leadership that I found interesting. There is some thoughtful debate going on regarding the issue, it's just that it doesn't get reported in the newspapers or on television.

Wargaming news is a tad slow; we appear to have got the rules wrong yet again in the Bohemian Blitzkrieg campaign so there is a short delay. But I have picked up a paintbrush for the first time a yonk. Admittedly it wasn't to paint any figures, but it was a start. The younger Miss Epictetus got it into her head to go to a pottery painting café and, in the absence of any interest whatsoever elsewhere, was forced to call on the aged parent. It was very relaxing, therapeutic almost, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself applying a Caribbean beach scene to a mug from which, when it's been fired and I get it back, I fully intend to drink coffee laced with rum. That should make the Great War project go with a swing.

It is, as one can't help but know, fifty years to the day since England won the world cup. I haven't watched, listened to or read any of the stuff being churned out to commemorate it, but in my head I have been transported back to watching a black and white tv in the living room of a house in Bethnal Green which was within the year knocked down as part of the slum clearance programme. The memories naturally relate mostly to those with whom I watched it and who are no longer with us; basically everyone except my younger sister. My grandfather - who now I think about it was almost certainly sitting there with a cup of tea laced with a dash of whisky; let no-one tell you nature isn't as strong as nurture - was also gone within the year. I still have a number of volumes of a history of the Great War that were the only books I ever saw in his house. 

I have always prided myself on never having been in the slightest bit patriotic. Someone - Julian Barnes perhaps - wrote that real patriotism was pointing out to one's country when it got things wrong. But reflecting on 1966 makes me wonder. I suspect that as a ten year old boy growing up in post-war Britain I was as patriotic as everyone else. Perhaps it was that day that did it. We'd won and that was it. Anything further would be mere repetition and so it didn't hold any further interest for me.

"If you live long enough, you'll see that every victory turns into a defeat" - Simone de Beauvoir

Politics I'm afraid

Firstly, a comment on our government:

"Stupidity has a knack of getting its way" - Albert Camus

And secondly, a comment on our opposition:

I shall be voting for Jeremy Corbyn again. I acknowledge that he is the wrong man for the job, but Owen Smith - who I freely confess that I had never heard of until a couple of weeks ago - has done one thing that means I can't vote for him. He has announced the policies he would introduce were he elected. I do not want a leader who decides on policy; I want a leader who will champion and implement the policies decided on by the Labour Party. So do the majority of party members, and that, above all else, is why Corbyn will be re-elected.

Dear, oh dear

So the Battle of Sobotka ended as badly as expected. There was some minor Austrian success in that the Prussian right flank was entirely destroyed, but that didn't come close to making up for the fact that so was the Austrian centre. James claims to have pretty much finished a write up of the while battle and he certainly took lots of photographs so I will simply refer you to his blog.

I made a number of tactical mistakes and Peter undoubtedly got the best of the luck with dominoes, dice and cards. However, I don't propose to dwell on those; instead some quick opinions on the rules as they stand.

• Sadly the new withdrawal rules didn't really work. On the plus side, I liked the free move when passing the test to withdraw and the extra move on Officer Check cards thereafter; it gives a real prospect of actually getting away. On the down side, it's still very dull to play out that part of the battle. 
• Not that long ago James changed the rules so that infantry can only fire straight ahead. Notwithstanding the historical rights and wrongs of this - about which I know nothing - in terms of playability the result is frankly a real dog's breakfast, with inconsistencies popping up all over the place. It turns the game into the sort of 'wangle the angle' affair often previously derided in the legendary wargames room and, given the Prussian infantry's huge advantage in manoeuverability, leaves things rather unbalanced.
• I used to find it a source of great amusement that the definition of a flank was heatedly debated each and every week; now it's just embarrassing. To me the beaten zone and flank rules need to be defined together along the lines of:
• The determining factor for whether a unit gains flank advantage is the position of the centre of that unit's front relative to the front edge of the target unit.
• If a unit is engaged in ranged fire, then if its centre is behind the target unit's front and the target otherwise meets the normal criteria for being fired at then it counts as flank fire.
• If a unit moves into contact with another, then if the centre of that unit's front started movement behind the contacted unit's front edge and if no part of the contacting unit is in the arc of fire at the point of contact then the contacted unit is flanked.
• For the avoidance of doubt no unit can obtain a flank advantage over a unit which could (assuming it were loaded) opportunity fire at it.

In other wargaming news, I have spent some money, which may possibly signal a return to activity. I bought a batch of buildings from a charity shop, which I think means that I now have more than enough. These are hollow cast rather than the solid and more detailed Lilliput Lane stuff, but they will suffice. I also picked up another Hexon trench piece on ebay.

Take care of your homework

I have been to see bluesman Earl Thomas with his full US band play a hot and steamy set in a working men's club in Bradford. Musically it was excellent - he can certainly sing - and the effect was obviously heightened for those for whom sexy, black men shaking their thing is a turn on; which it certainly was for a large number of raucous women of a certain age in the audience. He was taking his life in his hands when he came down to the merchandising stall afterwards. I'm not sure the suave supper clubs of California fully prepare one for Yorkshire women after they've had a few drinks on a Friday night.

Among the songs that he played was Johnny Taylor's classic, "Take Care of Your Homework", containing the line "the downfall of too many men is the upkeep of too many women". Ain't that the truth brother!

Love-Song

How shall I hold my soul so it does not
touch on yours. How shall I lift it
over you to other things?
Ah, willingly I’d store it away
with some lost thing in the dark,
in some strange still place, that
does not tremble when your depths tremble.
But all that touches us, you and me,
takes us, together, like the stroke of a bow,
that draws one chord out of the two strings.
On what instrument are we strung?
And what artist has us in their hand?
O sweet song.

     - Rainer Maria Rilke

And summer's lease...

... hath all too short a date. But while it lasted, a period of what can best be described as 'scorchio plus' sapped the energy out of all of us. I personally sought refuge in the Junction Inn, which I have only just realised has air conditioning; presumably because it's the first time they've had to actually turn it on in all the years that I've lived round here. Anyway, while I was there I saw the always excellent Dr Bob & the Bluesmakers. Maria, their lead vocalist, just seems to get better and better, although it would appear that she was also unaware of how cold it was going to be in the pub and rather wished that she had worn more clothes.

This brief hot spell also saw week two of the Battle of Sobotka, and thankfully the temperature in the legendary wargames room wasn't too bad at all by the time we got there. I haven't yet had a chance to reflect in any detail how things developed - although the big, bouncy woman did thoroughly debrief me almost as soon as the game was over - so let's just say that it was once again bad for the Austrians, but not as bad as the week before. Hopefully James will get some photos up soon because the table does look good. Notwithstanding the fact that I was once again on the wrong end of the initiative split (although in fairness I also luckily won a couple of cavalry melees that I shouldn't have done) I can only reiterate that I just love the swings and uncertainties of Piquet.

Sort of related to having seen some blues - with more to come tomorrow - this, especially for Crumb, is Captain Beefheart doing a J.J. Cale song that many of us will best know from the Lynyrd Skynyrd version:

Fracking implausible

And so to the theatre. I have been to see Square Peg's latest production, 'Roseacre'. This is claimed to be in the style of those Scandinavian noir television series that have been very popular over recent years, but as I've never seen any I can't confirm that. What I can say is that it was rather gripping and completely nonsensical; still one can't have everything. Performed in a studio theatre it contained lots of the physicality and character doubling up necessary to compensate for limited props and a small cast, and which I rather like. There was, for example, a very fine and funny method of representing a game of darts in a pub. The plot - something to do with fracking and police infiltration of protest groups - was however absolute tosh. Quite why a Detective Chief Inspector came to be in charge of the riot squad was never explained and the inference that one could change one's DNA along with one's identity was downright bizarre. As for someone's ability to go about their daily life without anyone noticing that their scalp had been sewn back on overnight by a Russian prostitute with the aid of vodka as an antiseptic, let's just say that I have my doubts. Anyway, said escort's description of her relationship with her clients as "I stand on their balls and they call me mother" made my companion for the evening laugh knowingly to herself and me wince. There's a whole world out there of which I am thankfully ignorant.

On a different subject, readers may have wondered why there had been no mention so far this summer of my magic hat; be reassured that I have retrieved it from the cupboard and it is on charge.

That went well

“Misfortune nobly born is good fortune.” - Marcus Aurelius

I recently forecast that the Austrians luck was about to change in the Bohemian Blitzkrieg campaign. I also made the assertion that I was indifferent to both victory and defeat. The first has come true and the second is about to be tested, for it's fair to say that the opening evening of the Battle of Sobotka didn't go entirely to plan. It started very well - I had a cracking draw and my units didn't roll up too badly - but I didn't get much initiative and in particular couldn't rally anything. None of this was helped by some less than optimal starting positions, mainly caused by me trying to leave too many options open. Still, what goes around comes around.

 "Remember that all we have is 'on loan' from Fortune, which can reclaim it without our permission - indeed, without even advance notice." - Seneca

Camaraderie

"Socialism involves a process of striving to advance the goals that define it." - Ralph Miliband

So, Epictetus old chap, what do you think about all this Jeremy Corbyn stuff then? Well, as it happens, I have been giving this some thought. Obviously I have no greater qualifications for having an opinion than having first joined the Labour party on the day after Thatcher became prime minister in 1979, but nevertheless I do have them. Opinions.

Firstly, I have long adhered to the view that the parliamentary Labour party should be representing the views of the wider Labour party and its members rather than dictating policy itself. Should MPs wish to belong to a party where decisions are taken at the top and adhered to with iron discipline all the way down to the foot soldiers (a term I use deliberately) then I suggest they join Sinn Fein.

On the other hand, Corbyn really isn't cutting the mustard. He is, or at least it seems to me, treating the job as some sort of inconsequential adjunct to his normal activities of supporting and publicising various worthy progressive causes. Despite the fact that I agree with most of what he says, that isn't what I want him to do. What is required is someone to organise and deploy an effective opposition to the apalling people currently making an appalling mess of running the country.

And then, and by no means least, what about the workers? The one generally accepted point about the situation in Britain today is that at an ever increasing pace the benefits of society are accruing to a small group of people and everyone else is feeling the pain. Our right wing government promises more of the same disguised behind a facade of disingenuous scaremongering, scapegoating, authoritarianism and indifference. What the country needs is a cogent left-of-centre alternative. All the PLP appear to offer the country is to not be the Tories, while at the same time asserting that the only way to get elected is to be very much like the Tories anyway. For all his faults - which are many - Corbyn at least offers such an alternative vision. In response the only thing that the PLP can say is that their not-Tory offering would be more likely to be accepted if put forward by not-Corbyn.

If, somewhere in the PLP, someone exists who can bring together under one banner the MPs (in their current guise of the political wing of the Economist magazine; socially liberal and economically conservative), the Labour party in the country (socially liberal and righteously socialist economically), and the traditional Labour voting white working class (socially conservative and subconsciously dirigiste economically if one is kind; bigotted and ignorant if one is realistic) then let he or she declare themselves. We all stand ready to be inspired and led on to the new Jerusalem. Sadly, I do not believe such a person exists.

So, there you have it; many opinions, but no solutions.

Summer (a love poem)

I wanted to be sure this was our island

so we could walk between the long stars by the sea

though your hips are slight and caught in the air

like a moth at the end of a river around my arms

I am unable to understand the sun your dizzy spells

when you form a hand around me on the sand

I offer you my terrible sanity

the eternal voice that keeps me from reaching you

though we are close to each other every autumn

I feel the desperation of a giant freezing in cement

when I touch the door you're pressed against

the color of your letter that reminds me of flamingos

isn't that what you mean?

the pleasure of hands and

lips wetter than the ocean

or the brilliant pain of

breathless teeth in a

turbulent dream on a roof

while I thought of nothing

else except you against

the sky as I unfolded you

like my very life a liquid

signal of enormous love we

invented like a comet that

splits the air between us!

the earth looks shiny wrapped in steam and ermine

tired of us perspiring at every chance on the floor

below I bring you an ash tray out of love for the

ice palace because it is the end of summer the end

of the sun because you are in season like a blue

rug you are my favorite violin when you sit and 

peel my eyes with your great surfaces seem intimate

when we merely touch the thread of life and kiss

              - Frank Lima

Coitus Interruptus

“Aucune règle n'existe, les exemples ne viennent qu'au secours des règles en peine d'exister.” 

- André Breton

I have mentioned the Seven Years War campaign that's been going on for a few weeks and if you have any sense you've been reading about it in more detail on James' blog. You may therefore have picked up that there have been some debates about the appropriate method of withdrawal. For my own benefit as much as anything else I wanted to list out my views; not so much about the topic, but about the context in which it is being discussed. So, in no particular order:

• The rules are James' and he is the ultimate arbiter and editor. 
• I personally don't know much about the War of the Austrian Succession or the Seven Years War; indeed I cannot recall ever having read a single book specifically on the subjects. Like a lot of wargamers I have a preference for Horse and Musket games in general, but that's as far as it goes. 
• I have never played the period anywhere other than in the legendary wargames room nor with any other ruleset than Piquet, although I believe James is intending an outing for 'Honours of War' at some point.
• I think I've referred before to my interpretation of the Two Fat Lardies' injunction to play the period and not the rules. In my view it means that people like me should play the rules and if that results in actions that the writers (i.e. those who know about the period) consider wrong then they should change the rules so that we either can't do it or get punished for so doing.
• I play wargames - and indeed boardgames - to win, because they don't make a great deal of sense otherwise, but am neither upset if I don't win or that excited if I do. I've never embraced competitiveness for it's own sake - a philosophical approach that my ex-wife could not understand at all - and in any event when I win a battle it's usually because Peter has rolled a lot of ones on the dice; this is obviously a source of great amusement, but not really a cause for celebration.
• Ever since I've known the various wargamers of Ilkley - which is quite a long time now - they have been prone to changing the rules. James takes it to the next level, with games often not finishing using the rules that they started with, but this has never bothered me particularly. The process is clearly teleological and reflects my observation above about getting the rules to drive period realism.
• The morale chip structure within classic Piquet appears to be there mainly for the purpose of getting relatively small games to finish in a relatively short time frame. Playing larger games and taking longer about it does two things: it highlights illogicalities in the system because these have more chance of becoming apparent; and it introduces new ones as the system has now to do things that it was never intended to.
• The Ilkley Lads (was there ever a bigger case of collective self-delusion than the use of the word 'lads' in this soubriquet?) have made certain incremental adjustments over time, such as a chip loss per unit rather than stand, no chip for a successful challenge, Major Morale card affects the other player, two Major Morale cards, and no doubt others. As far as I am aware there has been no zero-based review; perhaps it's time.

Hold My Hand And I'll Take You There

"When love comes so strong,
There is no right or wrong,
Your love is your life."

And so to the theatre. I decided to go large on the story of tragic love across the boundaries between feuding factions and so, only a day after watching Romeo and Juliet with the eldest Miss Epictetus, her younger sister and I went to see West Side Story. Interestingly this is set in exactly the same period, the 1950s, as that to which Branagh updated Shakespeare - I understand that the performance license for West Side Story doesn't allow any changes at all to the original - although the main conclusion from see the two juxtaposed is the unoriginal one that Italians are ineffably more stylish than Americans.

In the original one sees things mostly from the part of the Montagues, but Arthur Laurents' updating of the story fleshes out Bernardo's character way beyond that of Tybalt, to such an extent that the audience's sympathies switch much more to the heroine's family. And of course the Sharks are way cooler and have the better music. Indeed it was 'America' (the stage version which is rather different to the film version) that stood out as the highlight of this production: vibrant, colourful and beautifully sung. Maria and, especially, Anita were excellent; the acting of Tony, as the younger Miss Epictetus was quick to point out, seem to consist mainly of pointing an outstretched index finger at the other actors. He had a nice voice though.

Such sweet sorrow

And so to the theatre, and also to the cinema as I've been to another live transmission. The elder Miss Epictetus and I have been to see Kenneth Branagh's Romeo and Juliet. I was a latecomer to these, but,as I think I've mentioned before, I'm very impressed. Far from diminishing the theatrical experience the cinematic aspect is done so well that those watching remotely actually get a better deal. Branagh sets his production in 1950's Italy and augments this theme by relaying it in black and white. For those of us whose mental image of that period of Italian history is based on 'La Dolce Vita' this is absolutely on the button; I'm not entirely sure what the large number of.15 and 16 year old GCSE students in the audience made of it.

The production was excellent, with Lily James outstanding as Juliet.The 'fit bloke from Game of Thrones' looked good, got his lines right and didn't fall over as Romeo, and a mention should be made of Meera Syal as the nurse. However, the star of the show was Sir Derek Jacobi as Mercutio. Branagh, in a pre-show exposition, explained his decision to cast the 77 year old by means of a long anecdote involving Oscar Wilde via D.H. Lawrence, although it might just have been simpler to point out that the text doesn't refer to the character's age. Whatever the justification, Mercutio as flâneur works very well. Indeed I am off to buy a cane (although probably not a swordstick) at the earliest opportunity; I have found a personal style for my retirement years.

The luck of the Irish

I posted recently that I thought that the Austrians' luck in the Bohemian Blitzkrieg campaign was about to run out. I haven't changed that opinion, but can report that it hasn't happened yet. Yesterday, in the Battle of Niemes, Maquire (Macquire? McGuire?), exiled son of County Kerry, lost, but not that badly. Given that he had spent much of the time so far not doing anything (apart from the uncharacteristically effective raid on Frederick's supply lines), this was somewhat unexpected.

A quick look at the campaign map will show that this was only ever meant to be a holding action while the much larger Battle of Sobotka takes place. The battlefield was probably as good as it could be for the Austrians and the pre-battle roll up gave the Austrians a defensive position including earthworks, but the Prussians had a much larger, mostly better army. When their commander rolled 'purple' (that's the colour of the bead used to mark his quality;there is a proper term for it, but I can't remember what it is), gaining them a Brilliant Leader card, and Maquire rolled up as poor (a red bead), gaining them a Command Indecision Card, things looked even worse. However, and somewhat paradoxically, it was when I drew appalling morale chips - the absolute bare minimum and then only after drawing for a second time - that there was an improvement in my prospects. In such circumstances I really had no choice except to get rid of my morale as quickly as possible and then withdraw; the rules requiring zero morale before this could take place.

The odd looking Austrian deployment was at least in line with Maquire's low rating, although post battle discussion did reveal that I had more flexibility in setting up my earthworks than I had assumed. My plan was to use my artillery to knock off stands from the advancing Prussians, morale challenging whenever possible, and also use morale chips to attempt to rally in all circumstances where I had lost stands myself. The asymmetrical Prussian deployment left my grenzers (the one element of Austrian advantage in troop quality) with an empty flank in front of them and so, opportunistically, I advanced them and decided to try to use these as well as the artillery to cause casualties. These units shot up the Prussian artillery (good) and then routed when faced with cavalry thereby using up morale chips (also good). I was able to withdraw without any of my other infantry or my cavalry having entered the battle at all. Both sides caused 1 SP of damage during the battle and although I had mentally budgeted for another 1 SP of post-battle pursuit damage I rolled well and that didn't happen either. All in all it could have been a lot worse.

Lessons learned:

• The morale chip rules have always been a slight quirk in Piquet. I think our amendments  make them better, but it would be hard to claim total intellectual coherence.
• I should have moved my badly positioned artillery sooner. The rules allow them to move reasonably quickly, this should be taken advantage of.
• If the battle is scheduled to take eight moves, the attacker shouldn't be afraid to use them all.
• I think Peter fell into the same trap that I did the previous week. The campaign objective of destroying stands means that if one gets the chance to knock off some stands from an enemy that will shortly withdraw then one should take it, even if under other circumstances one would use one's initiative elsewhere.

I think sexual intercourse is in order, Gilbert.

And so to the theatre. Readers may recall the film 'A Private Function' from thirty odd years ago, featuring a pig-napping of the sort which often appear in P.G. Wodehouse's Blandings novels. The film has particular resonance with this blog because the screenplay was written by one of our heroes, the thankfully still very much alive Alan Bennett; because much of it was filmed in Ilkley, the epicentre of wargaming in lower Wharfedale; and because the most sympathetic character, played by another of our heroes, the sadly no longer with us Richard Griffiths, is an accountant. I have now been to see the stage musical version, 'Betty Blue Eyes'.

I'm not really, despite what the lady in the kitchen shop may think, much of a fan of musical theatre, but I have to say that I enjoyed it enormously. In translation from the big screen to the stage and from comedy to musical some things have been added and some lost. It's a while since I have seen the film, but I don't recall dancing girls (and I mean full-on Moulin Rouge style dancing girls) appearing in anyone's front room, nor indeed cameo appearances from Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip.  And, spoiler alert, the fate of the pig has been, how shall we say, made more suitable for family audiences. But it all hurtles along nicely, there are still references to Lady Macbeth for the the intellectually inclined and fart jokes for everyone else, and the cast gave it their all.

Star of the show is the animatronic pig - how could it be otherwise - which is better behaved than one assumes a real one would be. Indeed there are stories of Dame Maggie Smith being chased round a kitchen by one of those used in the film. The pretend pig followed the script perfectly until right at the end when, after taking its bow, it suddenly careered into the scenery and knocked one of its ears off. They should have stuck to that old showbiz rule: never work with children or radio-controlled animals.

Pot58pouri

There's still no painting action chez Epictetus. The new movement trays etc got finished and put away and then so did all the modelling stuff. Perhaps my interest will pick up again when the weather isn't so good. That's a little joke for the benefit of our British readers, although it does give me an excuse to include this clip as a little tribute:

Anyway, hobby stuff has basically been the Seven Years War campaign and a bit of boardgaming. In the former, I am concerned that the Austrians may already have peaked with their rather lucky victory in the Battle of Aussig being followed by all commanders moving when asked. It has to be all downhill from here. Boardgaming for the last two weeks has taken place against a background of constant and unprecedented discussion about politics. Our Monday night group is attended on and off by Americans from the nearby 'secret' military base and it is interesting, if disheartening, to hear their views on it all. I'm not sure which is worse, their lack of understanding of the world outside the US, or their lack of awareness of the way the rest of the world regards the US. And these are people who have not only travelled abroad, but spend all day every day listening to our phone calls. Frightening.

In other news a low level of cultural intake continues. I went to see Bob Fox, folk singer and original Songman in the National Theatre production of War Horse, an evening which also featured short sets from Yan Tan Tether and Jon Palmer, the latter of whom I also saw with his band in the Junction Inn, a pub referenced in his song 'Another Friday Night in a Northern Town'.

In the cinema I saw last season's version of the 'Merchant of Venice' from the Globe plus 'Love & Friendship', the not very widely released film based on Jane Austen's epistolary novella 'Lady Susan'. They were both very funny in parts, with Tom Bennett (now there's a proper Jane Austen name) stealing the second as the clueless Sir James Martin.

In which my eyes are opened by a cosmic encounter

It's boardgame round up time. Hooray!
Champions of Midgard:  A bit like Lords of Waterdeep, but with a more intrusive fantasy theme, which, perhaps inevitably, made no sense at all. I lucked into a win, but I'm not sure how.

Codenames:  The only problem with this otherwise excellent game remains the potential for a lack of shared frame of reference between the two parts of one's team. The young people of today appear to have no knowledge of the names of fielding positions in cricket. Extraordinary.

Cosmic Encounter: The group of people I played with on this occasion, newcomers to the Leeds gaming group, obviously played the game regularly and now I understand how it should be played properly. I'd always enjoyed it previously, but this was much better. Eye-opening.

Escape from the Aliens in Outer Space: I really want to like this more, but it's a great mechanic - albeit that it's just Battleships tweaked a bit - in search of a balanced game. In fact it's almost, but not quite, a hidden identity game worth playing.

Knit Wit: I did not like this at all. Creativity under pressure is really not my thing. For the record it has nothing whatever to do with knitting, a subject with which thanks to the big, bouncy woman I am increasingly familiar.

Marrakech: I love this game. Who would think a game about rug selling could give so many opportunities to stiff one's opponents?

The Networks: I'm not entirely sure about this game about running a TV network. There wasn't a great deal of player interaction and the silly names of the shows and stars were more fun than the gameplay.

No Thanks!: A fun push-your-luck filler, simple to grasp and difficult to win. Recommended.

One Night Revolution: A mixture of One Night Werewolf and Resistance results in rubbish squared.

Puerto Rico: Morally ambiguous worker placement game (who exactly are these workers that I'm recruiting to my plantation and why are they represented by brown pieces?), but a good game nevertheless. It's a close relative of San Juan which I also enjoyed and which is quicker.

The Pursuit of Happiness: A fun game about living a full life, but much of the amusement comes from playing the theme and not the rules. The way to win is surely to become an ascetic and eschew not only relationships, but also a job. Strangely enough hobbies are a quite sensible route to success.

Skull: There is nothing more to be said. A great game which makes you see people in a very different light.

Thebes: A game of competitive archaeology, a theme which seems to have inspired quite a few games. This one is spoiled by one seemingly minor mechanic, the drawing of unearthed treasures from a bag. This brings so much luck into things that the only strategic advice I could give is to make sure that you draw good tiles.

The road to Marston Moor

The whole country would have been as affected by the English Civil War as by the Great War; fighting was widespread and the death toll was proportionately higher than in either world war. Otley's part was somewhat minor. Parliamentarian troops marched through en route to Marston Moor and it is reliably documented that Cromwell held a conference with his commanders in an orchard in the nearby village of Menston. More apocryphally, these passing troops are supposed to have drunk the Black Bull - oldest of Otley's many pubs - dry. This may not be true, but it's firmly rooted in the local popular consciousness, mostly because there's a large plaque on the side of the pub facing the market square which makes the claim to everyone who walks by.

To mark the anniversary of the  battle - July 2nd - the English Civil War Society visited the town to commemorate all aspects of the events of 1644. I only witnessed their attempt at the drinking task through the window as I walked up to the Yew Tree to see the Max Band (excellent, with the highlight being a cracking run through 'Born To Be Wild'), but there they were, in period costume and giving it their best shot.

I did, however, go to see their drill demonstration and display of the sort of skirmish that may have taken place in the run up to the battle. I'll let the pictures speak for themselves, but for lovers of loud bangs and the smell of gunpowder it was a cracking afternoon out.

 We already know that this blog's readership contains those with a taste for women dressed in male military attire - shame on you - and there was much that would have held your interest; a significant proportion of the combat troops involved were women. Look closely at the photos and you'll see what I mean.

Over the Top

And so to the theatre. The centenary of the Great War and of the Somme in particular has been marked by two plays on the stages of Leeds. First up was 'Leeds Pals' which looked at the local volunteers who volunteered together in the first weeks and months of the war and served together in July 1916. This piece was put together specifically for the anniversary and was generally well received with reviews marking it out as a tear jerker. However, I must say that I felt it had a large number of flaws which prevented any real emotional engagement. Firstly they focussed in on two individuals (spoiler alert - one survives, one doesn't), thereby ignoring the real story which was the heavy levels of casualties concentrated on small communities because of the flawed concept of 'Pals Battalions'. Secondly they framed it with story of one Tommy's great grandson's service in Afghanistan which simply diluted the whole thing further. The power of the collective memory of the First World War comes about largely because anyone whose family lived in the UK one hundred years ago has a close connection with those events and probably knows about it and, at least in outline, the part which their relatives played. Afghanistan, and I have no intention of minimising the personal tragedies of those who suffered physically and/or psychologically there, does not have the same resonance. I don't know or know of anyone who served there; since seeing the play I have asked around and haven't found anyone with any personal connection at all to that conflict. Joining the army in the autumn of 1914 was a response to a mixture of existential threat, peer pressure, emotional blackmail and god knows what else. Joining the army in the twenty first century is a career choice. It didn't work dramatically to conflate the two.

Far better was 'Barnbow Canaries' at the West Yorkshire Playhouse, which told the story of an explosion at a munitions factory in Leeds which killed 35 people and was hushed up at the time. The canaries tag was a reference both to the TNT poisoning which slowly turned the women yellow, and to their expendability both during the war, and afterwards when the men returned and took back their jobs. It's probably impossible to write about the First World War without using at least some cliches; the skill of the playwright is best shown in which ones they select and the context in which they place them. Because this is a play about women we get the girl giving herself to the boyfriend leaving for the front, we get resigned spinsterhood given the shortage of men and we get stiff upper lips as the telegrams arrive, all of which succeed where, for example, the pompous posh boy officer from a mine-owning family in command of the 'Leeds Pals' fails. 'Barnbow Canaries' is on for a while longer yet; see if it you can, but beware, this one will bring a tear to your eye.

Charles of Lorraine comes good

There are many reasons why I would have been a terrible general, most prominently my complete unsuitability - both physical and psychological - for being a soldier in the first place. The specific failing that translates most directly to wargaming is my problem with visualising things; my brain simply doesn't work in a way to allow me to readily see things that aren't currently in front of me. This manifests itself in a variety of ways; for example you should see me struggle to assemble slopes and hills out my Hexon terrain. Over the last two weeks, in the Battle of Aussig, it caused me to fail to recognise that my artillery (that's my remaining artillery, having lost one gun immediately we started) was already ideally sited, and thus to wander it about the battlefield to no effect. In the end James - the not entirely neutral umpire - pointed out where I was going wrong, the guns came into action and the game was over shortly thereafter. For the record this in no way implies that I have reconsidered my opinion about the overall quality of James' advice and I shall forthwith revert to my normal practice of ignoring him completely.

I was actually going to win anyway. It had been a good game, really showing off the strengths of the Piquet system. At the beginning of the evening the Austrians looked like the only possible winners, and then a combination  of initiative and luck of the cards swung things back to the Prussians before, just when they were close to an upset, things reverted and the Austrians finally triumphed. My initial set up wasn't so good and my tactics may have been dodgy, but I did get one thing right. Knowing that I had a huge superiority in morale chips, I challenged pretty much every time I caused a stand loss and chewed up enough of the Prussians morale to prevent them from rallying back UI when it really mattered.

This was the first encounter of the campaign and I at least am still getting used to the impact of the campaign rules on the tabletop game. Some aspects were clear, for example there were no cavalry melees as both sides kept an eye on the post battle pursuit phase. Others came more into focus as the endgame approached. The balance between firing early (and therefore inflicting stand losses which will influence the campaign) and not (being loaded and able to opportunity fire is important in Piquet) is nuanced, and one of those judgement calls that it will be very easy to get wrong. I thought that the final stage - the restriction on withdrawing until reaching zero morale and then the option to do so thereafter - worked OK, although I think it perhaps needs more constraint on when it can be triggered.

So, a rare victory for Charles and we move on to turn three.

Bugger

“The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter.” 

- Winston Churchill

Well I won't be the only person to quote Churchill this morning. One of the difficulties for everyone - even they aren't racist simpletons like fifty percent of the population apparently are - is wading through the various forecasts and deciding which may prove accurate. The one that at the moment seems most likely to me to come true is this from FT journalist Simon Kuper: "In 20 years, impoverished Britons will be smuggled into France in the back of lorries to pick strawberries". I always interpreted Thatcher's aim to be to create a low skill, low wage economy in the UK. Her successors appear to be determined to add 'no jobs' to that list.

Anyway, I started with a quote so let me finish with one:

"Young people, today would be a great day to pay a visit to your grandparents, and give them a fucking slap." - Dan Rebellato

Wargaming again

Strange day. I voted of course, and got bitten on my leg by something unidentified (but presumably an insect) leading to a lot of blood and a large swelling. On top of which the country I live in may be only hours away from being taken over in a coup by an unholy alliance of the ignorant and the sinister. I shall therefore talk about wargaming.

We returned to the table for the first time in some weeks and it was just as if we had never been away: no one could remember the rules, there was endless debate about what constitutes a flank (or its modern hi-tech equivalent, the beaten zone), and Peter rolled a lot of ones. I won't go into detail about the game because you can read about it here on James' blog. But points to note would be:

• It only occurred to me shortly before the game that I had never played the Austrians before and, in particular, had no idea how to use grenzers. Following the first night's play I have plenty of ideas about how not to use them.
• Successful battlefield selection and blind deployment are not intuitive. I like the system, but am under no illusions that I'm any good at it.
• Ditto for the whole campaign system really. As the Austrians I think one has to be both cautious because one's generals often end up doing nothing, and also opportunistic on the odd occasions when the Prussian generals do the same.
• The thing that really pissed me off was when I foolishly moved a limbered gun, and invited opportunity fire which destroyed it for the second time in quick succession.
• The thing that really made me laugh was when Peter managed to fail Major Morale despite only having lost one unit.

Interestingly, Peter admitted to his own loss of painting mojo in recent weeks/months. It's obviously catching.

Sand

Sand  
Sand in your fingernails
Sand between your toes
Sand in your earholes
Sand up your nose!
 
Sand in your sandwiches
Sand in your bananas
Sand in your bed at night
Sand in your pyjamas!
 
Sand in your sandals
Sand in your hair
Sand in your knickers
Sand everywhere!  
- John Foster

Old campaigner

"One of the things I learned in the military is sometimes you don't know what mistakes you make for a long time." - Wesley Clark

I managed to blog every day when it was physically impossible so to do because I couldn't charge the laptop. As soon as the new charger arrives I go down with a virus and miss a day. During my very brief absence my order from Warbases arrived and, as predicted, the paintbrushes came out and the new arrivals have been painted green. There as an error in the order - the first time this has ever happened to me when ordering from them - but they have promised to immediately dispatch the correct stuff and told me to keep the incorrect. So once again excellent customer service from Warbases, who I would highly recommend. The mistake related to some stuff for the Great War project, which will hopefully now kick back into gear.

Also upon rising from my sickbed I note that the Seven Years War campaign is about to kick off again. Unlike General Clark we realised our mistakes pretty promptly and are going to have another try. I appreciate that approach won't work in the real world, but after all this is only a game. I shall write about this campaign in due course - James outlines it here - but there have been others; James seems sensibly enough to be working through the periods he collects.

Many years ago now James ran a multi-sided campaign using his Italian Wars collection. I was the Pope, but had little chance to do anything beyond declare myself a Warrior Pope (which actually gave quite a significant benefit) and ally with the Spanish before I had to go to abroad on an assignment. From memory the campaign was fought to a conclusion, but I seem also to remember the consensus was that it went on a bit. James and Peter fought a crusades campaign which is detailed on James blog, which seems to have been very successful, but I wasn't involved so I can't tell you what made it work so well; probably not all the silly names that James invented and that you have to wade through to find out what happened. Then there was the Punic Wars campaign of a couple of years ago. That was also rather extended - a bit of a theme developing here - and in the end was a dead-heat and decided on the tie-break included in the board game used for the strategic rules. The big unresolved issue for me was the translation of the outcome of battles back to the strategic level. I always felt that one was actually handicapped by managing to engineer an encounter where one heavily outnumbered the enemy, where all logic suggested that the opposite should be true. Once again write ups of this campaign are on James blog.

Now, readers of James' blog may believe, based on the steady stream of WWII western desert postings, that we fought Operation Crusader as a campaign . But no. Shane Warne famously said that Monty Panesar hadn't so much played fifty test matches as played the same test match fifty times. We didn't so much refight Cunningham's whole action as plough through Sidi Rezegh fifty times. Wikipedia quotes someone as saying that Sidi Rezegh is 'the forgotten battle of the western desert'. Not in Ilkley it isn't. Anyway, I hope that in due course we perhaps have a crack at the whole thing.

Oh yes it was

Another example of paramilitary inspired drumming in garage rock:

An intense period of not wargaming

Sometimes, as we all know, one's mojo doesn't work, even in someone as mojolicious as Epictetus. And so it has been with painting and modelling - there has been none. I can feel the start of faint stirrings and so perhaps it won't be long before I begin again, especially if 2016 continues to be another year with no summer.

There has however been a certain amount of pottering about in the annexe. Since buying the hex terrain we have played C&C Napoleonics games on a 'proper' size board which either looked a bit lost in the middle of the wargaming table or didn't fit comfortably on the dining table. What I really want to do is to use the full space available, which implies four times the area for which the rules are designed. After a certain amount of humming and hawing I have come to the obvious conclusion that in order to know what rule changes might be necessary to cope with this increase is to play a few games with the rules as is and then see what doesn't work. So I have been playing around with converting C&C scenarios to the larger space, immediately running into a couple of issues. I chose to double the force size thereby allowing more manouevre room and tacitly acknowledging the fact that I don't actually have enough figures to increase them any more. Then it became apparent that I didn't have enough of the bases that I use for marking unit type and strength, nor of the cavalry size sabot bases. An order has been immediately dispatched to Warbases. I suspect that on the arrival of the order it will be painting and varnishing those pieces of mdf that is the trigger for moving forwards the nearly complete more complicated stuff that's been sitting there for a few weeks untouched and unloved. I also need some more trees, which I think will be the main purchase at Derby in a few months, and more artillery, about which I am going to do nothing.

Those of you that read James' blog may have noticed a campaign starting, being written about and then disappearing. This deserves its own post and one will follow shortly, laptop charger and nazis allowing.

Morn came and went and came, and brought no day

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." 

- Martin Luther King Jr.

Pot57pouri

I have still not received the new laptop charger ordered some weeks ago, indeed it has not yet been dispatched.  I am therefore unable to post to this blog on a daily basis as I would wish. This delay is the fault of - and this is the honest truth - Elkie Brooks. I know that is going to upset her greatest fan and quondam blog reader, but I have to say it as I see it. Ms Brooks is playing the Royal Hall in Harrogate later this year and I think I might have to get myself along there and take her to task about this charger business. In the meantime various other things have occurred.

Somewhat unexpectedly, even to me, I have been on a stadium tour of White Hart Lane. The place does have vague connections - via Harry Hotspur - with things that I am actually interested in, like medieval history and Shakespeare, and I have actually been there before on numerous previous occasions as a spectator. Indeed I have very fond memories of a game against Ipswich (Spurs 5 Ipswich 3) where Carl and I happened to meet two visiting Rhodesian nurses keen to be shown the sights of London. Their country of origin is an indication of exactly how long ago it all was - living in the past, moi? Anyway, I enjoyed the tour more than I thought I would and was rather surprised at a couple of things, notably how small the dressing rooms were and how uncomfortable the chairs in the directors box. I was impressed by the medals won by the incomparable Dave Mackay during the double season of 1960-61 and, to a much lesser extent, by the hideous monstrosity that is the Costa del Sol Cup, a trophy whose size is in inverse proportion to the number of people who have ever heard of it.

"Where's them nurses at?"

I assume that everyone has, like me, been expecting 3D printed figures to become available to wargamers for some time now. I have only just become aware that they are already here (and reviewed here).That link is to the 1/72 page, but there are others, and by the nature of their design and manufacture they are of course easily scalable. They are ridiculously expensive to the point of being completely unaffordable, but what a brave new world that has such figures in it.

Anyway, in tomorrow's non-daily post there will be some non-wargaming news. Stay tuned.

No one is alone

"Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh." - George Bernard Shaw

And so to the theatre. I have been to see the West Yorkshire Playhouse/Opera North joint production of Stephen Sondheim' 'Into the Woods'. The story - an intertwining and extension of several fairy tales - is structured around the quest of a baker to remove a curse. I am an fairly regular baker myself; being not only a lover of cakes and biscuits but also allergic to milk, I find it simpler to make my own. I have just made some rather fine Cranberry and Cardamom Cookies, perhaps a little heavy handed on the spice, but delicious nonetheless. My lengthy conversation with the lady who runs the local cookshop as to the best implements for extracting the cardamom seeds from the pods and then grinding them, left her even more convinced than ever that I am the gayest man in Otley.

I think that it was fair to say that I wasn't the gayest man in the theatre last night. I haven't seen so much outness and pride since Barry Humphries came to town on his farewell tour. The previous evening many of the same people would have taken part in the vigil held in solidarity with those affected by the appalling events in Orlando; hundreds attended as the LGBT area of Leeds in Lower Briggate was closed to traffic. But I always think that while there is a place for specific organised events in these circumstances, that ultimately the best response to those seeking to intimidate us is to carry on our normal daily lives as we always intended to do. And if that involves a love of musical theatre, then so be it.

Notwithstanding recently being made into a film by Disney, 'Into The Woods' is a serious and complex work with a number of themes running through it along with a rich vein of humour. On another occasion I might have pondered much on the focus on bad parenting, on which I consider myself something of a self-taught expert. But right now its important messages are surely these: accept who we are and other people for who they are, be careful of the consequences of going into the woods with no clear idea of where the path will take you (are you listening Blair and Bush?), and that it is only by standing together that we can defeat the giant. The show (which, be warned, is very long) comes in two parts: the fairy tale endings we all know and then what happens next. As Orson Welles said "If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story".

The production itself was glorious, with top notch singing and music courtesy of the chorus and orchestra of Opera North. The puppetry was a particular highlight, with the Giantess being genuinely frightening despite the mechanics behind it being clearly visible. The staging - making full use of the layout and technical capabilities of the WYP - was also noteworthy. The opening set was a primary school classroom and the characters' journeys into the woods were portrayed as the school trip from hell. Let's hope this isn't an omen for the big, bouncy woman next week.

What a wonderful night for a moondance

I have been to see Van Morrison, who was simply fantastic, as he was always going to be because he is, after all, Van Morrison. There was a very jazzy vibe to the evening, with the man himself looking like George Melly's less flamboyant younger brother. As with Leonard Cohen he sensibly surrounds himself with first rate musicians, although his bandleading style seems somewhat more like that of James Brown; I wouldn't like to cross him.

I must mention the opening act, the New York Brass Band who were great fun in the style of the Hot 8 Brass Band so beloved of Craig Charles. The rumour is that Sir Van agreed to their supporting him because he believed them to be from Harlem. In fact the name signifies that they are from York and haven't been going very long. Morrison was, let's be blunt, as miserable as sin. But the same behaviour that in Eric Clapton a couple of years ago came across as rudeness and contempt for his audience, somehow seemed just acceptable idiosyncrasy here. It was glorious concert and I'd happily put up with the great man's indifference in return for the sound of his voice every time.

We were treated to many highlights from a great career: Moondance, Brown Eyed Girl, Bright Side of the Road, Whenever God Shines His Light etc. It was all most excellent. Astral Weeks is without doubt my favourite album; a phrase and concept that really date me. Whilst mostly a mystical album - once again we are speaking of Van Morrison here - it is also in part about the Belfast of his childhood. But what really for me has always set Morrision in his time and place is the paramilitary drumming on his 1964 garage rock standard Gloria. If ever there was a song designed for long extended versions it is this one, and it got it here as the last number/encore.

I for one have played Gloria, very badly, in several garages. My favourite non-Morrison version is probably that by Eddie and the Hot Rods, which appeared on their Live at the Marquee EP along with 96 Tears, Satisfaction and Get Out Of Denver. I have a feeling that I might have posted this before, but what the hell - it's brilliant. Get those chairs out of here!

I came along, just to bring you this song

I've been to see Rod Clements, once of Lindisfarne and Jack The Lad performing an acoustic set accompanied only by Ian Thomson on double bass. Clements originally left Lindisfarne while I was still at school and the forming and reforming of these groups is a mystery probably even to the members themselves. I can confidently say that he wasn't a member when I saw them a couple of years ago, although I believe he is now. Thomson is, I think, their current bass player, but whether he was then is another matter.

Clements has a great track record. As well as writing 'Meet Me On The Corner' he has worked with the likes of Bert Jansch, Ralph McTell (he played on 'Streets of London') and, more recently, Thea Gilmore and Nigel Stonier, artists much admired by this blog. Indeed Nick Hall, a local singer/songwriter featured fairly regularly in these pages, was in the audience and was deep in conversation with Clements after the gig.

As well as both Lindisfarne and Jack The Lad numbers, they performed a couple of Jansch's songs, Ledbelly's 'Bourgeois Blues' and, more unexpectedly, the theme from Barry Norman's film review TV programmes which the more elderly among you may remember. He encored with an instrumental version of 'The In Crowd' as originally made famous by Dobie Gray. An eclectic mix therefore, which showed off his guitar virtuosity and demonstrated that you don't have to be a brilliant vocalist to entertain a crowd if you have guitar virtuosity to fall back on.

We cannot fight for love, as men may do

And so to the theatre. It was Shakespeare's Globe for my second Midsummer Night's Dream in a few weeks. This production featured many of the tropes familiar to anyone who has been to Bankside: music, dancing, humour, the noise helicopters flying along the river, and freezing cold weather whatever the time of year. The production has been controversial, but I thought it was perfectly OK.

One of the changes introduced was that Helena became Helenus and a gay/bi subtext introduced. However, other than a joke when Snug warns the ladies "and you gays" not to be frightened because he (or in this case she) is not a real lion, the characters' gender was no more relevant than their ethnicity. More relevant was the decision to make Puck female, as the character often seems to be these days, because her performance was accompanied by a series of pelvic thrusts that would have been somewhat less acceptable if made by a man.

The mechanicals were portrayed as the staff of the Globe - which made for some amusing interaction with the audience before the play proper started - and I rather liked Starveling appearing in the final act as a fully suited astronaut, being, as she pointed out, the man on the moon rather than the man in the moon. I wasn't so bothered about the breakdancing of Pyramus; from my perch in the upper gallery it didn't look terribly proficient.

Anyway, all in all I had a good time, and I continue to very much enjoy the Globe despite the low temperatures that seem to be booked in for my visits.

The Hokey-Cokey

Readers may have wondered why Epictetus has not yet vouchsafed his opinion on this EU referendum malarkey. Well, partly it is of course because his computer doesn't work. But it is also partly because he can't get too excited about this once in a lifetime event as he has already in his lifetime voted in just such a referendum. For the record on that occasion I voted to leave, which was at the time official Labour Party policy; not to be confused with the official Labour government policy which was to stay in. Aren't you nostalgic for the days when the ruling party used to be completely split on such things?

Others have not been reticent in putting forward their views. Our Luxembourg correspondent has a keen interest in all this, having lived there for so long that he has lost his vote and must now be counted as Johnny Foreigner himself. He has just disseminated to our mutual acquaintances one input from a prestigious trade association which he describes as the clinching argument. Who is to say that he isn't right?

Anyway, back to your bloggist. I shall be voting on this occasion to remain, essentially because I am intelligent and well-educated. This country is splitting itself into two moieties: those who can't read without moving their lips, and those who are somewhat more sophisticated; one doesn't really have a choice as to where one belongs. I shall not address the issues in any depth or attempt to convince anyone of the error of their ways. I am content to simply stand by and mock the presumptuousness of the intellectually limited. If it transpires that the morons do in fact form the majority within the UK then who among us will really be surprised? The mouth breathers are on the march all across the world. I limit myself to the observation that pandering to the prejudices of simpletons may possibly not be the best way to develop public policy.

Proverbs Chapter 19 Verse 21

"There are many devices in a man's heart; nevertheless the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand."

I do indeed have many devices, but it would appear that the counsel of the Lord is that the one most suited for writing blog posts should remain hors de combat for the time being at least. In the meantime there has been no wargaming anyway including no painting at all - for a variety of real life related reasons such as birthdays, exams and scorchio - although other activities have continued apace. Prepare yourselves for much cultural related reportage when technology allows. Indeed, prepare yourself for some wargaming related reportage as well because a Seven Years War campaign is scheduled for kick-off next week. The much delayed try of the latest C&C Napoleonics has been, well, delayed. In other printable news, I have made a rhubarb crumble loaf cake that is a triumph even if I say so myself, and also quite painfully burnt my arm. In other unprintable news, a good time has been had by all.

Life isn't like in the movies

Once upon a time, a king gave a feast. And there came the most beautiful princesses of the realm. Now, a soldier, who was standing guard, saw the king's daughter go by. She was the most beautiful one, and he immediately fell in love with her. But what could a poor soldier do when it came to the daughter of the king? Well, finally, one day, he managed to meet her, and he told her that he could no longer live without her. The princess was so impressed by his strong feelings that she said to the soldier: "If you can wait 100 days and 100 nights under my balcony, then at the end of it, I shall be yours." Damn! The soldier immediately went there and waited one day. And two days. And ten. And then twenty. And every evening, the princess looked out of her window, but he never moved. During rain, during wind, during snow, he was always there. The bird shat on his head, and the bees stung him, but he didn't budge. After ninety nights, he had become all dried up, all white, and the tears streamed from his eyes. He couldn't hold them back. He no longer had the strength to sleep. All that time, the princess watched him. And on the 99th night, the soldier stood up, took his chair, and went away.

Flat battery

In yet another electrical malfunction at Casa Epictetus sparks and smoke have been seen coming from my laptop's charger. Posts will therefore be a bit intermittent until a new one arrives. What better than to use one of these scarce events to write one of those lists of boardgames that no one ever reads? What better indeed?

 A Fake Artist Goes To New York: Dear, oh dear oh dear. A co-operative/ hidden role drawing game that makes no sense at all.

Agricola: This was nothing like as complex as I had assumed. I enjoyed it, but can't see why people get obsessed with it.

Barony: I'd never heard of this, which at least avoids preconceptions. It's a worker placement game that enables one to attack other people; sounds good to me. I'd play it again.

Codenames: Deservedly nominated for the Spiel des Jahres award.

Condottiere: As seems to be the way with this game it was won by a first time player. Possibly the strategy isn't as deep as I'd been telling myself. It's still a good game though.

Deus: Slightly complicated complicated worker placement, engine building, set collection, area control, you-name-it game not at all about Roman gods (and even less about only one god as the title seems to promise).  I enjoyed it.

Eminent Domain: A pleasant enough deck-builder based in outer space. I'm rather proud to say that I won easily by purely peaceful means.

Greedy Greedy Goblins: Rubbish.

Imperial Settlers: This isn't a bad game although, like others in this list (Deus, Eminent Domain for example), it's very difficult to see what other people are up to.

Inhabit the Earth: Having played this for a second time my original good opinion was reinforced.

Jane Austen's Matchmaker: Theme is often wafer thin in published board, card or dice games. Indeed, knowing anything about the nominal subject can actually often be a handicap, and at best - e.g. in games such as Quartermaster General - it enhances the enjoyment without helping one in game play. This card game based on the characters of Jane Austen fell into that category for me. It doesn't require one to have read the books (although obviously I have). What the game is really about is the seduction of virtuous women by disreputable men. However a lifetime's experience proved not to be sufficient and I didn't win.

Karuba: I rather like this. It's surprising how differently people can use exactly the same resources to attempt to achieve exactly the same objectives. Also shortlisted for this year's Spiele des Jahres.

King of Tokyo: This divides opinion. I take the view that as long as one concentrates solely on biffing the other monsters then it's good enough fun.

No Thanks!: An entertaining push-your-luck game that has suddenly hit the table a few times this month. The best strategy seems to be not to have bad luck.

Notre Dame: This is a return on investment type game with very little player interaction. It passed the time OK, but is a bit simplistic for the accountants among us; and yes, that is a euphemism for me winning without much difficulty.

The Prodigals Club: A development/refinement of Last Will that improves on the original by making players balance two objectives simultaneously. It's also much friendlier to the colour blind. I rather liked it. It has various modules so should be repeatedly replayable.

Red7: A fine filler

Skull: Ditto

Splendor: A really good game, an essentially abstract mix of engine building and set collection.

Stone Age: This is one of those games - Agricola above would be another - that others are surprised to find that one hasn't yet played. Well now I have, and it is a good game. I seemed to be alone at the table in finding it odd that the stone age tribes in the game have access to gold, but that's obviously just another of my thematic hangups.

Sushi Go!: Speaking of themes, we decided to have a Japanese food based sequence of games. This one is passable and quick....

Wasabi!: ...and this one less so. There do seem to be a lot of exclamation marks involved in eating raw fish; actions available in this game include Chop!, Switch!, Spicy! and Stack!. I didn't care overmuch for this game.

I Guess A Man's Got To Do What He's Best At

A couple of posts ago I noted that I had some hot wargaming action to report on, but I can't for the life of me imagine to what I was referring, so we're back to music again. I have been to see Ian Siegal and Jimbo Mathus play some acoustic blues. I've seen the former before when he was backed by the Mississippi Mudbloods featuring the rather excellent Cody and Luther Dickinson, but not on that occasion Alvin Youngblood Hart. It was only three years ago or so but I don't seem to have written it up in this blog at the time. For the record: the band were excellent; I was accompanied by a rather delightful French lady that I used to knock about with (inexplicably only now making her first appearance in the blog); and the council/police closed the venue down almost immediately afterwards. It was through the Dickinson brothers that Siegal met Mathus, himself from Mississippi and a man with strong connections to the history of the blues. Indeed his childhood nanny was Rosetta Patton, daughter of Charley Patton, the man who taught Robert Johnson to play and Chester Burnett to sing. Siegal, who does a nice Howlin' Wolf type vocal tribute, comes from the deep south of Hampshire rather than the delta and tells the story of how the locals in the Mississippi hill country, having trouble pronouncing his first name, gave him a nickname based on his place of origin: 'Overseas' Siegal. Knowledge of the rest of the world has never been a strength among Americans in my experience.

Musically, they covered a wider range than strictly the blues, indeed they equalled Tom Russell's record of playing two songs referencing Pancho Villa in the lyrics; these being Russell's own 'Gallo del Cielo' and Steve Earle's 'Mercenary Song'. From the folk canon they gave us 'Casey Jones' and, of all things, 'Dirty Old Town'.