Zornhau

A German sorcerer has cast Kurtzhau’s Romans back to the Jurassic, where they’ve been abducted by a flying saucer. The aliens didn’t expect Marcellanus to be a magician, otherwise they wouldn’t have stored the weapons so close to the lockup…

Zornhau - a diagonal cut to the head or neck. To do it, stand 30 degrees on to target, rest sword on back shoulder. Inhale. Exhale and throw the sword forward, steering with the back hand so that it cuts in a 45 degree plain. When the sword tells you to... wait for it... wait for it... STEP. Blade and foot land together...

...except the other fellow just threw a Zornhau into your blade...

Yes, we finally found the right balance between study and drill by alternating the weeks. That way, people who only attend on one of the two days don't get lost, and both study and drill blocks have continuity.

And, everything aches...

...Charles Stross’s Merchant Princes novels... are economic science fiction worth reading. 
http://krugman.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/05/04/economic-science-fiction/

They are a damn good read, all the more so because the economics is done well and fun. But, is that a tag any writer wants to follow them around?

You know when you've got your living arrangements right when your own kitchen is more attractive than the kebab shop, even when you're a tad legless thanks to attending the rather boozy launch of a friend's second book.

As I strolled back to our rather central flat, the pangs of hunger finally pierced the alcoholic fuzz. Not the kebab shop for me - the fridge contained flour tortillas, bacon, soured cream and cheese. Allspice was to hand on the spice rack; those of you who like Tex Mex can see the synergies.

Like Howard Andrew Jones, my monitor occasionally reflects a view of my study in a parallel world: Universe R. The bookshelf is interesting indeed. I managed to email my counterpart, Wodehawk, and he told me about his two favourite books:

Good King Richard’s Book of the Fight (1487-1492)

After winning the Battle of Bosworth by single-handedly striking down his rival (often termed “The Coolest Axe-Blow in History”), King Richard worried that gunpowder and the natural indolence created by peace would kill of the Martial Arts. For this reason he commissioned a book capturing the fighting styles of the knights and commoners of Merry England. It runs to seven volumes, and was Caxton’s bestseller. The table of contents is enough to make me weep.; “Of Sword and Shield… Of Great Falchion… Of the Great Sword… Of the Bill and Glaive… Of How a Knight Shall Fight Alongside his Lance… Of How a Knight Shall be Armed (including a discourse on which is better: Armet or Sallet?)… Of the Folly of Fighting with Two Swords… and Good King Richard’s Axe and Buckler Plays.”


Howard and Tolkien’s “Strider the Ranger Series”

One of the stranger quirks of literary history is the collaboration between the big morose Texan pulpster and the genteel Oxford don.

To blame is a mechanical fault that saved Howard’s life when he tried to commit suicide, propelling him into volunteering in the Spanish Civil War. The wounded Howard had been shipped to England by sympathisers. Though he was still distraught by the death of his buddy Hemmingway - as everybody knows, the two finally egged each other on into a heroic but fatal escapade within six months of the war’s end – he immediately hit it off with the academic.

Tolkien, on his part, saw in the Texan “…the very manifestation of the men of Middle Earth.” Abandoning attempts to create what would have been a very cumbersome work in the Romantic tradition, Tolkien set about cheering up his new friend.

What started out as a weekend’s literary game on the banks of Lake Windermere, blossomed into a collaboration that only ended with Tolkien's death in 1973. Who has not thrilled at Strider’s adventures in the mysterious Eastern Lands (the classic example being “Strider the Oliphant Rider”)? Or gawped at arguably the highpoint of the series where Strider carves his way into Mordor, hacks off the head of the Dark Lord, and casts it into the pit of a volcano?

An interesting literary footnote is Tolkien’s little-read solo effort “Lord of the Hyborian Age”.  Howard, in mourning for his friend, revived this project and spent the years 1975 until 1990 knocking out well over a million words in the what became known as the Conan Saga. The child who grew up listening to the tales of old gunfighters, lived to see his vision translated to silver screen, TV, and ultimately - as a grand old man -  computer games.

This was done using a new machinima tool. Not enough mayhem or tanks for my taste, but rather cool all the same:

Just so I don't forget it, this site is a Baen writer-wannabe's dream resource.

Small wars are operations undertaken under executive authority, wherein military force is combined with diplomatic pressure in the internal or external affairs of another state whose government is unstable, inadequate, or unsatisfactory for the preservation of life and of such interests as are determined by the foreign policy of our Nation.

http://www.smallwarsjournal.com/ 

"Your martial art is all very well, but it's useless against somebody not fighting within the system...(Oof!)"

I've heard it many a time on the reenactment circuit - albiet without the resounding exhalation of breath as 4 ft of steel buries itself in the speaker's chest. It is, of course, bollocks for German Longsword and its cousins.

Granted, some duelling-orientated sword fighting systems may also reflect complex social customs and niceties, but the Medieval martial arts traditions existed and evolved in a brawling free market of ideas. If North Bratislavian Slugfechten got you killed, people would stop learning it.

In fact the truth is quite the opposite of the opening quote: it's a lot easier to fight people who don't know your system.

Generally, when we DDS "Marxbruder" face off, we each know what the other will try to do. I'm thinking: "I'll Zornhau and Take Off," and he's thinking ""He'll Zornhau and Take Off." What you end up with is a lot of smart ass moves, aborted attacks, and techniques jammed at half-cock before they go off.

Until tonight, that is.

The_Hat and I started with edgy tricks and counter-tricks, and collided doing some of the obvious moves. Then something clicked. We clambered to the top of nearly 3-years of study and plunged into an atavistic bath of technique, which is to say that towards the end, we flowed. Nothing was predicable because, at last, there were simply too many choices.

The_Hat fought like a dream, and together we wallowed in ersatz murderous play for what felt like hours, but was mere minutes.

And, the blades didn't dance like in some crap fantasy where each of charactyr namys sports a Y" and the races have a'postrophes. Nor did we probe for openings, see one and go for it - whatever the hell that is supposed to mean.

Rather, the steel flowed and whirled, like nightmare leaves spiralling through a haunted ruin by the light of forgotten moons.

Oh, I scored a hit with a Kurtzhau. :)

Just to say that the BBC has a free "Walking With Dinosaurs" 3D game here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/sn/prehistoric_life/games/dinosaur_world/

Basically, you plod around a 3D world spotting dinosaurs. The dinos fight and eat each other, but not the player. The controls are simple enough for a 4-year old, as Kurtzhua discovered....

For non Brits: You have to understand that in England's Deep South, "...innit" serves the same non-purpose as the US "...man":

A 19-year-old...[South]... London girl['s]... hunt for a cab to whisk her to Bristol airport ended less than satisfactorily.

...the unnamed teen rang directory enquiries... and initially requested a number for a "Joe Baxi" [slang] firm . The nonplussed operator told her she couldn't find anyone by that name, to which the lass replied: “It ain’t a person, it’s a cab, innit.”

The enlightened operator duly put her through to... [a] retail display supplier Displaysense, where she "spoke to an equally bemused saleswoman" before thundering: “Look love, how hard is it? All I want is your cheapest cab, innit. I need it for 10am. How much is it?”

The answer was £180, and with the deal done by credit card, Displaysense obliged by delivering a display cabinet to her door the next morning.

The Register
 

The thing about swords by Mark Vickers (St George Armoury) is that they feel real – and I should know, since I’ve handled originals. Better yet, they sing for at least a minute after combat.

The thing Iike about my little business-on-the-side is that it takes me to odd nooks and crannies of the software industry. At the moment, I'm writing web copy for a model railway design package. It's one I've worked on before, but relaunched with a new name. Strange, strange world...

And while it can be fantastic publicity (and a bit of a giggle) to have a few fundies standing outside a gig protesting, the threat of serious legal bills will scare a lot of record companies into censoring their output (c.f. Janet Jackson’s ’superbowl nipple’).
 

Just finished editing the hardcopy of the penultimate 20K.

The final 20K needs  a few changes before I print it - battle needs tweaking in response to single_point's feedback on tech, and the finale needs some steroids as suggested by one of my crit circle.

Then...

There are about half a dozen items on my snagging list, mainly continuity stuff, e.g. the hero's Housecarls keep fluctuating in number.

Finally, I need to double check the feedback from my crit circle in case I've missed anything - I don't always take people's advice, but I do always consider it...

Then, at last, it's ready for beta reading and release into the wild.

I am, it is true, at the happiest I've been since adolescence.

 I have 32 minutes left of being 39.

I'll let you know how it turns out.

He wrote the first SF I ever read.

My folks bought me "Of Time and Stars" when I was about 10 - it was as I recall a collection of short stories deemed suitable for older children. From there it was the Arthur C Clarke books in the library. Most of them were in Gollanz yellow covers, so so when I ran out of Clarke, I moved onto other "less suitable" authors...so shaping my mind for all time.

Farewell old timer.

EDIT: Perhaps this is a reminder to look after the SF heroes still in our midst, and to look to our own mortality; http://www.matchitforpratchett.org/

There is no hurt or disgrace to run away from four or six.
And when you turn and start to run away from him,
then throw your sword across and run as fast as you can.
Then as one who thinks that he has caught up with you and has closed with you,
then leap to the side of the road and if he is running quickly after you,
then he will be moving too fast to control himself
and you can strike him down as you wish.

Hanko Dobringer - 1389

During my non-family leisure time, at the moment, the hands only want to come off my ears ("Nah nah nah! I can't hear you! I'm too busy revising my novel") in order to wield a sword. 

However, the crap does sometimes pile up to the piont where my in-tray becomes life threatening. I can't single-handedly create a new genre if I'm suffocated by bank statements, tax letters and insurance forms.

So, rather than craft the required love scene between two of the main characters, I've spent the last hour clearing the decks. My in-tray is down to an import tax invoice on some sturdy gloves, and a registration form for my new mobile phone, for which I've even sorted out the BlueTooth.

If I ever become a full-time fictioneer, I'm going to find a way to reduce this demand on my time. Can one have somebody come in once a quarter to handle admin?

I love this:

BTW the housing minister Yvette Cooper is married to Ed Balls so if you want to protest this government there is nothing stopping you marching with a placard saying Yvette Cooper Kisses Balls (it may not however accurately reflect the state of their marriage).