A tale of the Canisthratu part 4

To the flurry of slashes the cleaver waited.  The blows avoided by the heavy blade drawing back always between the razor of shell and the cowled foe.  When finally it was lifted the cleaver fell not against Grahh'na but his blade.  Down down with shattering force the cleaver bit and broke the delicate razor. Grahh'na recoiled with a how of rage.

His hunting blade destroyed the canisthratu threw up the remains of a low table between himself and the cowled foe.  It gave him time to retrieve a set of obsidian paw blades from a hip pouch.  His people called these the shrike blades as they looked something like a birds claw when worn on the fingers.  Grahh'na had them in place by the cowled figures next attack.

The rhythm of the battle slowed, each waiting for the other to call the new cadence.  The foe came with a far slash which Grahh'na tried to exploit and close in.  The wild attack seemed almost an invitation as the cowled figure fought off the claw with the thick forte of his blade.  Grahh'na loosed his frustration in the failure of the attack.  Sinking his shrike blades deep into the meat of his leg he drew out tendrils of blood.  Swaying for a moment with the incantation the blood floated into the form of circle then finally fell.

A tale of the Canisthratu part 3

The blade vipered forward when the violence finally awoke. Speeding through the rooms thick air fluid as fabric streaming on a wand. This did not bite it found nothingness though it was again driven forward in attach.  lunging again and again as a spear hunting for a pinned trophy. 

The figure moved as if swimming about the room but with quickness unheard of. Seldom the blade found a bit of cloth and tore into it but never drove home.  The same can not be said of this unseen opponents blows.  I hewed down upon Grahh'na measuring its attacks to find sound openings for each slash and thrust.  Grahh'na felt the wounds though they were not so savage as to affect the heavy Canisthratu tracker.  Still he bled.

The opponent fought with a heavy iron cleaver and as they fought Grahh'na found more of his foe visible.  He cuts tore away at the cowl until he could see the man's flesh.  He thought man but that was wrong, what was this.  The flesh was taught across the face with no eye nor face. The mask was cut free at the mouth and a row of teeth shown through.  The flesh was white and cream not the color of flesh but afterbirth or entrails. Yet at times veins inked with vibrant color, almost rising an falling with the creatures rage.

W.B. Yates inspired poem

A journey to tackle other voices comes and falls on Yates.  This is closer but still overly wordy in the small works I look to remove from my own voice.  I want to add them only when I must, not bask in them like this.


I come to the taught words
The last ones of failed grace
The supposed languid season
saying well past their welcome
The Dried and brittle word
dissolving in it's own weight

Ignored resplendent climes
Only turmored souls note
Down in the welted heat
sticky and sickly sweat
Nevermore nighttime rain
perhaps when winter again

A draught never more wanted
than in prohibition fits
or this quaking waking dark

W.H. Auden inspired poem

I guess this is what you get when i listen to Auden.  I don't know about it.  This feels more of something I used to write than the way express myself now.  I don't know about the pastoral roman goods of the twenties poets.  I feel foolish using them, i tried it but doesn't seem right.  I would be more comfortable calling down Odin, but that just seems like I am invoking Dungeons and Dragons rather than some fantastic empowering of the here and now.



Simple in the command
lay before me a golden land
Hone edges wanting bone
Call to seabirds I am alone

Wake up the morning
It sleeps too Late
Silent pained waking I hate
midnight in the longing dark

Stupored child at the park
Break your bottles
bleed out your veins
Cry in terror or growing pains

Here the sun bears no light
On emptiness falls delight
Engines and Hephaestus
find unison and hum

Glowing embers there are none
Bow you failing storefront
Yield your pride
Surrender to commerce; Hide!

Down to the pillows
I'm shattered and tired soar
Batter me again, no! no more!
Beggaring hope, a couple days

Leave the mirror broken
no difference these days

A tale of the Canisthratu part 2

The Canisthratu let his paws fall hard and firm,giving in to defeat.  Grahh'na now moved sure and quickly driving a multitude of black wings as he went.  Dark albatross turned to carrion generations past, now wicked and evil birds cried in protest but flew on craven.  He clasped the wide grip of his running blade and ventured ever on.

Walking farther into the galleries and choking air Grahh'na began to see small tokens of the lost.  Driving further he walked amongst the treasures of an elder age.  Drawing deep into the spine of the breast he found a dark set of chambers still dressed in the days of old.  The glare dimmed he enter the room as if it were his own.  In his quiet moments he became aware of a second breath.

His hands moved along the running blades delicate razor of shell, testing.  Grahh'na moved slow hands and limbs falling into a tail guard, which almost invited attack.  But non came only light.  Burning crystals awoke with light and floated aloft.  Framed and ringed by the stones a figure dwelling dark and silent.

A tale of the Cunisthratu

where once the noble gossamer banners danced wind borne now they decayed silent and still.  The grand arches once blushed in a thousand hues now just bone bleached white. Here the grand seat of power of a long forgot line was ground into the sea.  Few in E'his remembered the sea as it was, flowing rejuvenate and free.  But here the sea remained, if caustic and biting.

Grahh'na lifted each paw slowly and looked a moment before placing the other.  Scanning the pitted ground for footing hard and firm.  Hunting for steps with no groaning whisper of his passing.  He was no scout but all of his people knew to move quietly.  They held to the silence of hunters, so he moved on his pace slowed to an infants crawl.

Yet even padding feet crunched and chipped at the floor below.  It was ancient bone all about. Every wall, ceiling and floor one immense bone.  Each the same and stretching for miles these gallery rooms, which yawned opened on every side.  A spanning back bone grown like a great beast, here upon this spot. This was the first of the great living construct birthed with a future even now not well understood.  A great gift the Architect set at their feet but this new god was not kind.

Coming quickly to terms of all expression laid

I love progressive rock, my favorite Yes track is And You and I.  I never knew other people did until a few days ago, when watching a documentary.  They were talking about ABWH playing that song and the crowd going insane.  Well  in listening and listening to the song over a couple days this is what comes out of me.



The chord struck we fall into time
differences settle down to rhyme
Call forth Dreamer the ocean is made
Rise again your joy lost to grave

Simple and light let your song be
Bird song dreamer sing your harmony
Your life your journey all now see
Broken eyes mend upon thee

Regard us well under your name
All we want looms the same
Give us song well up an accord
Take these words as reward

Listen for us we can not see
Dream for us Dreamer be free

A guide to flow tricks for the 101 freeway in the silicon valley

In driving on the mean streets of the silicon valley I am sure you will notice there are weird instances where traffic makes no fucking logic.  I can remember the first instance I noticed of this was when I would drive to my job in Los Gatos from my parents house in evergreen.  This was before 85 was completed so I took 101 to 280/680 and then 17.  After you get past downtown there is a gyre of traffic badness that often requires three lane switches in just a few miles for optimum flow.

Driving home from my current place of employ I usually take 101 the whole way.  This takes me from Ellis out to Coyote Valley.  Driving this I have watched and watched how the slow lane often becomes the fast lane and then turns into a traffic jam later on.  At first I could just not wrap my head around this.  At first you want to blame your fellow drivers and driving through Evergreen you are going to be right.  Sorry Evergreeners I understand they overdeveloped your area with regard to the freeway connections but you also drive like fucking pricks.

What I began to see was a pattern of traffic as a stream with hidden obstructions underwater that were driving traffic.  This was closer to the truth but certainly a flawed view of things.  There is nothing under the road that effects us barring some small driving changes based on road quality.  What I have come to see traffic flow as being like is the vascular system.  With off and on ramps representing the smaller connecting capillaries.

So in looking at our freeway system you will notice the larger connections to a given freeway act as a place of vascular resistance.  There are exceptions here due to the drivers free will but generally any major connection is going to be a location many drivers will want to drive to.  When driving you are going to want to opt for a more traditional fast lane placement as the exiting lanes are unable to handle the flow they are being given and back up.

For non prominent exits these take pressure more naturally and therefore the slow lane now speeds up having just lost traffic density.  You are going to want to take advantage of this relationship.

That is basically it in theory, more generally it could be said traffic is caused by civil engineering fuck up that constantly fail to account for the number of cars on the road.

I wasn't going to detail my route in case no one realized I didn't understand what I was talking about and started using this but what the hell.  So for me I get as far to the left on Bayshore as possible when leaving Ellis as the connection too 237 backs up traffic horribly.  From here I see how fast traffic is going, If max flow has not been reached I play it by ear.  When traffic flow tips into a jam I move over to the slow lanes.  I will do this starting around Fair Oaks.  I will continue until in the slow lane until sometime before Lafayette street; where you see Airsoft Extreme.  I am going to stick to the left until just before the cut over to 87/Guadalupe.  I don't want to turn so I am getting over just as soon as the lane clears up so i can go fast.  I am actually going to get into the new left lane that is created when the first street people merge onto 101.  That is going to give you a quarter mile of fast then i hop into the two lane just after The Nimitz (880). 

Starting here i work over back to the fast lane.  I am not sure why but the slow lane really is the slow lane anytime you have a long stretch between exits.  I usually start working toward the slow lane between McKee and 280/680. The Sinclair freeway connection is one of the arterial connections where traffic naturally slows so you do not want to be in the slow lane. BUT! Immediately after the road speeds up after the story exit.  This is one of the best tricks on 101 but you have to be careful.  A stray slow driver will kill this and you have to merge over by the 680 merges onto 101.

Ah now you are in Evergreen and sort of screwed.  Tully takes some traffic but the road work going on is a killer. My best advice is try for the number two lane and ride it half way to Capital expressway. Here work your way to the fast lane.  One you get past the bottleneck you are home free.  Hellyer and Blossom Hill are really nothing and traffic should be nearing max flow at this point.

the last puritan

Don't speak change take your desires and hunt them down with a frightful earnestness.  Set aside the loved for the greater loved for a moment and act.  Fools may cry against possession but nothing well worn and used should fall into other hands.  Find the missing pieces that fit as made with you in mind.  Take the tools that work even if they take you in long paths in their mastery.  Nothing should be magical but well understood and held firmly in mind.  If you understand the long path of hard work, for God's sake walk it.  Take the time to experiment when everything is well in hand, understanding the failures is stronger than knowing what works.

South side of the Sky

Hold the sun,
let me come
the morning
when you go

Give a word
small accord
we are more
than my dream

Lift the sun
Raise apart
separate hearts
swept to sea

Let your tears fall into the sea
Love leave pieces where they be
Sung with sirens of the wave
Morning will be a dreaded grave

And then I'm done it just isn't moving along and I don't know what to do with it.  It's to twee or something.

Go for a Soda

This is perhaps the lamest video I have ever seen.   I present to you Kim Mitchell go for a soda.  There is nothing negative about Mitchell, well except for those Zumies pants, but OMG what the hell.  I do not recall seeing this on Mtv here in the States.  It looks like something from public access; minus the star wipe panning from scene to scene. 

Where did they get the guy who stars in the video.  It's like they got me to star in a video and erased my memory.  Yes I am saying that guy is as uncool as I am, sorry I hope you have had huge successes in life my doppelganger I know how hard its been for us. 

Again there is nothing with the song, I am down with rocking some Mitchell.   But what the hell is Kim doing after appearing from the television?  He seems to berate the young man for smoking then does a goose step.  Second hand smoke is dangerous but nothing compared to the problems created by fascism.  I am not sure if this project started as a PSA against smoking or as a commercial for store brand generic soda.  With higher production values this could have been endorsed by Coke back in the 80's.   Rather than lets all go to the lobby it could be Kim Mitchell, but alas.  I sort of dream of a Canada that serves beer in their theaters so its probably not an issue. 

I have always have had a wistful fondness of Canada, but this reveals the nations true failing; Video Editing.  Not since Strange Brew have I seen such beauty effects.  Al Di Meoli your horrid guitar fu is cool once more.

'Thoughts on Roleplaying and how GMs encourage and discourage it

In the past I have said you can do good role playing in any system.  We did plenty of great character interactions in AD&D back in the day.  Sorry I am not cool enough to talk like that, back in my day which is more specifically the eighties.  Really that statement needs to be qualified, I believe.  Let us please add though system and Game Master may also encourage or discourage role playing through mechanics.

What I am getting at here is the Role of the Game Master and the Role of the system in encouraging or discouraging the players investment in characters.  While I feel any system can provide great roleplaying experiences that will largely be up to the players at the table.  The Game Master being primary of those.

Lets talk about system and how it can derail and drive players.  The depth of a system needs to be global or players will often feel discouraged or even cheated.  I have seen a Deadlands player utterly pissed that his gambling rogue creation was so limited compared to a Huckster.  One was basically a skill based character and the other had skills and a complete magical advancement system as possibilities.  Similarly when I have played Talislanta I have felt if you don't have access to magic the game is not worth playing.  That would be fourth edition of Tal with all the modes of magic and whatnot. A system that rewards and denies like that can quickly change how players approach the game.

Flowing form this is reward.  I think this falls on the Game Master pretty squarely.  If you are not giving some experience reward for Roleplaying and character interaction, players will eventually navigate tackling the challenges that you do reward.  This can also drive what players set as character goals.  If you don't allow them to seek out and create the in world benefits they desire you are buffaloing them into some other game aspect.

Really the game should be a collaboration that is going to take some work off of the Game Master.  If you are going to avoid player driven game plots you are taking a perhaps more well know approach but one that may be harder.  I am really not judging here, I usually take the understood manual approach through the bushes in my life. 

A tale of the Vrehalija part 2

The Operculum undulated close by; coming to wakefulness in the dusk light.  It's shell was only lightly loaded with packs and bundled nets, travel would be easy.  The snails foot moved near constantly, rippling a thousand tiny steps over the cooling sand.  Ooshinahope hand named the Operculum his ship but it was in truth a living beast with it's own will.  From the netting Ooshinahope drew a vial of persimmon wine and poured into a fine leaded flute glass.  He sat long moments knees bent blow his body waiting for an approaching moment of perfection.  A second before glass was cool with night air and a second after it was too warm.  A simple ritual to welcome the evening the lone man kept when there was a chill at night.

Day silks traded for leathers gentile implements traded for a wild bladed lance.  Ooshinahope loosed the lighted bugs which guided burning bright.  They picked up on the parasites of the Operculum for supper and swarmed above as it went.  This was the Vrehalija's path through the sandsea, ever traveling to the east.

A tale of the Vreehalija part 1

The suns made a final attempt, blazing for a just a moment before sinking way to the west.  With daylight the day had been humid and oppressive, but with darkness it was quickly cold.  These were the middle days where winter fights against the coming warmth of the year.  It always seemed the victory came with dark.  Ooshinahope places a hand upon the mound structure of the aqueduct that had been shading.  These structures crossed the desert bringing water to the dry lands.  In some huge ventricular ley lines coursed with water coursing a vast flush of water with several hearts pumping in unison.  Here an infinite line of insects carried droplets from one basin to another.  All one must do is bore through the mount wall to gain the life saving water.  It was a system the desert men such as Ooshinahope relied.

Ooshinahope was of the high desert people who called themselves the Vreehalija.  A high born people who even in servitude held themselves aloof and proper.  The call of the horseman was in the blood but, Ooshinahope answered in his own way.  For all the cavalrymen, He was a nomad, for all the merchants he was captain.  He was his own, few could say that, but he was his own.  Fate hand granted Ooshinahope a ship and the sea of sand.  He could ask for no greater gifts. 

Thoughts on derailing a role playing game

Something I find missing as a gaming adult is the pain in the ass of it all.  My game nights have becomes some sort of well timed machine of Swiss design.  All the parties involved arrive and disappear to their component lives.  This is all great and terrible, with odd effects on the playing of the game.

As a youth nothing happened without great trial and effort.  Someone always needed a ride or someone needed to be tracked down.  Some poor soul living in a tent in a back yard had to make his way to a mall to find Brian who would charge him gas money for the drive. One of them had to finish talking up a girl at the local taco bell.  Then there was food or some sort of food run to interrupt the session.

But for all that the games went off pretty well.  Two things were at work here.  Everyone was putting in some effort to make this thing happen, so it was a focus once there. Also the pain in the butt of it added to the length of play.  We were holding six or seven hour games rather than four hours on a work night.  To be fair the computer wasn't linked up and micronized back then so there were no hand held interruptions.  There were no pdf's just books.  Very little distracted from the table except perhaps the music and most metal served as a soundtrack.

These days we arrive from work and fit it in with families.  There is no time for the long game.  There is no time to even be of the game we are always of many minds around a table that is held quiet.  Don't get me wrong this is the gaming I can get so I take it.  But we often joke around the table or burst with information that could be of use to each other in our normal lives.  This results in an experience not as strong days of old.  Even the relations around the table differ.  My fellow adventures seldom change my life anymore.  This wasn't so many years ago. There was a secret language of music and film spoken around the table.  It took much effort to learn and was slowly rationed.  Back in the days of VHS watching a movie wasn't a download it was a cross town search.  Now I find myself watching a few minutes of a suggested movie and then clicking Netflix over to something good.  These interactions that start and stop with the game table seem to want to be more but every joke or story cheats an already short game night.

The theory I am suggesting in this piece is that gaming is like sleep.  There is a certain duration of tossing and turning before you hit REM.  This is very much analogous to gaming chatter and goofing off before one hits the meat of playing.  As a solution to this problem I posit we start with dinner.  Something simple at a pizza parlor or taco bell but some place to get out the talking that seems to derail every game I play in.  If you don't have time make it as paramount importance.  Find time to forget the day and say the stupid things at one table then get down to playing at the game table.

My thoughts on 5th edition Dungeons and Dragons

This concept of 5th edition working with all variations of Dungeons and Dragons is weird.  I am trying to wrap my head around what underpins all of the existing systems and is in common.  I keep coming back to the need for more generic system the works almost like a function that the GM must apply to a bunch of characters all speaking in separate languages.

If you really take a hard look at first and second editions they are close enough to be the same game.  I Know it hurts me to say that, as 2nd edition is an abomination that should be burned, but its true.  Third and Three point five, even pathfinder could be one system.  Fourth edition is its own ballpark.  The only things that are common amongst all systems are attributes and hit points.  And in truth the scale of those varies.

With players that are devoted to a particular system they are going to want to play entirely in that system.  I have been at enough combined first and second edition tables to know the players want to handle themselves entirely within that particular rule set.  The game will need to treat each player as a black box. Input going in and out will need to be in some edition specific language or a language that player can be convert them self.  Everyone at the table will need to convert fifth edition to their own edition language which gets complicated.

Your first and second editions players are going to give answers like yes and no to saving throw roles.  The rest will be giving the DM saving throw values.  This could be handled simply enough by just accepting the yes and no as the saves are more granular in lower editions.  I mean they have five or six saves for rods and poison all sorts of stuff in the early editions of the game.  Perhaps this allows for automatic saves that are now allowed in other versions of the game but so what.  To hit roles will be a little more complicated with third and fourth edition players saying they rolled a 35 while the fist and second edition players say they hit a thaco of -10 or -15.  You will probably need some sort of damage increase between game versions as well.

One of the biggest problems I see are skills. They don't exist in first edition.  Skills come in as either having a skill or not in second edition.  In third and three point five skills are core to the game.  In Fourth skills are there but with very limited control over where points are placed.  This creates a problems where first edition folks are just going to need to role play out ideas with other edition players making dice rolls.  A strong DM will allow this to flow the same with the third edition folks influencing their skill roles with role playing ideas and what not.  The problem would be DM's that encourage your ideas but having the rules coming down to a dice roll.  These guys will derail the train.

One of the problems here is giving a first edition player skills means they are not playing first edition.  Any modification to fit a common system is going to effectively break their edition specific gaming experience.  Items may need to be multi stated in this light. Will player be able to over rule special abilities that are not present in their version of the Dungeons and Dragons system?  Early editions don't allow for much increase of attributes but this becomes common in later editions, even statistically required.

I am having difficulty finding much more information other than the fifth edition is being worked on.  If you have a site that has some better details please let me know.

The Amazing Pudding

Tears of the dead arise from the grave and wash the scales from my eyes.  Living land breathe once again give my voice unto the sky.  Dream small birds safe airs for wandering wing.  Call out warning when the dark wakes once more.  There shall be no more terror falling upon us, its already drown out the shore and washed back to sea.  Burn the bridges lets not be back again. 

Richards Scarry's Puzzletown Part 3

 Hi folks.  I am doing another post on the Richard Scarry puzzletown toys by PaySkool.  There were sub lines released in 1977.   One that included a figure, small building and car and a second sub set of Cars and figures.  In this post I am focusing on the "Puzzletown People, Cars and Places" assortment.  The buildings in this set are small roadside stands.  Rather than use the standard green plastic building square it uses a half sized square that is only found in this set.  It is half the size of the standard green base and a quarter the size of the large base.  A cool feature is the underside included locking elements for vertical building.  These work great in combination with some of the more square buildings, especially the sesame street set that does work 100% with the Richard Scarry sets.

 The first set is "Lowly's Fruit Stand"   It creates a little fruit stand with various produce and such.  If you notice the roof is not a full sized piece.  These roof piece only cover two inches rather than three.  This stand came with Lowly which is the same as in the railroad set so you get a duplicate.  The apple car which is shown below came with this set.
Be careful buying this one on eBay as people seem to go nuts for it.   I have seen the apple car alone go for fifty dollars American. 

Next is the Produce stand.  I think I am missing an egg or two, i sort of remember a cracked one.  This set came with Farmer alfalfa's wife from the farm set.  The Egg car shown below also came with this set.

 The next set is Huck's doughnut shop.  It comes with several doughnuts and the stand.  Huck from the cottage set came with this set so again nothing new as for the figure.  The doughnut card came along with this set.

My daughter wanted in on the pictures so you can see her there in the back ground.  She is who i recollected the sets for so I thought it was sort of fitting having her somewhere in all these posts.

A little note on collecting these sets.  You should look for the sets being included in bundles.  Sometimes people don't realize these are their own sets and include them in with the standard sets from 1976.  The cars sort of give them away but I have scored piece for these off a lot purchase I made.  The prices for these sets are often ridiculous.  I say that as a parent buying toys for his kid, not as a collector.

Here are a couple of shots of the cars I have mentioned above.  They are a touch more complex than the cars from the other sets.  They get into some of the more fantastic vehicles Scarry drew, in his books.

Go see my other Puzzletown posts Here and Here

There is also a brand new post here.

Go the fuck to Sleep

Lift your defiant flag
Shout down the gale
Cry against us, unjust
Hammer down the nail

Beg for moments more
worm and weasel child
Never without a fight
your never meek or mild

Shrill and shriek
when all calm and dark
Arise sleeping lane
Tyranny felt your mark

All crashing to your will
In the manor on this night
Nothing is soft or still
Lanterns burn ever bright

Warnings you don't hear
Carry On without fear
Elders broken cry
Don't you wonder why?

Silent Missings

Breathe in the room, no don't think of something pretentious and see.  Only see things as themselves for a second.  Then speak to me of they're connections.  The little lands of past that well up inside of you.  Give it memory and memory breath and voice.  Love the little pains inward and set them free to be told.

Of the broken finger tips that brush about mourn.  Give your mourning word.  Any Silent missing that wells when birds sing is a joy and terror that binds us all together.  To simply wish away?  No you know better.  Bare that and be of it.  Don't only hold them like a stone.  Live their lives down to your bones.

In your Grand's words find what you understand.  Let it take you by the hand all days ahead.  Take a token touch it when you feel forgot.  Return to true when other try to move you.  Everyone who have loved, made me ; same as you.  No one has left if they live along in you.