Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Changes
As ever, life keeps throwing curves in my direction. The placed I'd been living became untenable (it was really odd and at the end became a little creepy), so I'm out, back with the folks for a little while and searching for a new place. On the bright side, the lady wants to be there with me, so we're looking for a place together and that's fantastic. The "day job" is kind of smoothing out (though I've probably just jinxed that), but now I've got a commute for a while. No, I'm not trying to use this as an excuse for my slacking here. My regular writing has also taken a hit for a variety of reasons, including the items mentioned earlier in this little stream of consciousness. On the bright side, I can only imagine that this upcoming chapter of my life will lead to new insights and bursts of creativity. I'm very excited for this new chapter and hope that you'll all come along with me as life directs my evolution as a writer and as a man.
Friday, December 19, 2014
Secrets
Much to the surprise of many of my friends, when I went to college I joined a fraternity. No, I was never abused. I didn't even drink at the time. Some of the things I went through would probably be defined as hazing, indeed the brothers would joke about some events as such, but never did I compromise my morals or find myself in physical danger. Much later I recognized that many of these "pledge events" utilized team-building techniques popular in corporate culture. If you want to suggest that we drank more, then you clearly haven't worked for the right corporations. Anyway, once this team is built, you really don't want outsiders claiming membership (for a variety of reasons). My fraternity is a national organization. How does one recognize one's own if you've never met? I won't tell you exactly, but we can cover the principles.
Secret symbols: There is certain iconography that is associated with secret organizations. They generally represent a specific philosophy and are usually emblematic about how the organization views itself. While the full import of these symbols may not be understood by the general public, they do not tend to be important secrets, and the symbols themselves are not secret. These symbols are too iconic. If you see an eye in a pyramid, you recognize it. When you want to use them, simple symbols are best, used together (like a code) or in conjunction with some other form of sign (physical, auditory, whatever).
Code words: Like symbols, these phrases require simplicity. It is essential that these phrases remain unobtrusive to the people around you as well as the person you're speaking them to, if they are not members of the same organization. They should be universal. You don't want anyone on the outside to know you're looking for a coded phrase. You can ask a question, or make an observation that would seem perfectly normal to anyone on the outside, but (naturally) their response would not be correct. The correct response should be a little odd, but connected to the intro phrase. An additional trait is that the intro phrase should be easy to disengage from. If you ask directions and then don't follow them (because it's the wrong person), that individual might get suspicious.
example: "Have you ever been to Samarkand?"
"Yes, by way of Belgrade."
Both are perfectly reasonable. No one listening would be suspicious. An outsider could give the same answer, but it is extremely unlikely.
Coded gestures: Gestures are often the introductory code. If I rub my earlobe, you rub your hands together, or something. Mirroring is often the preferred method (I wiggle my nose, you wiggle yours, kind of thing, though perhaps something a bit more natural). Following this you may move on to the coded phrases. The most famous coded gestures are secret handshakes. These are not elaborate things, like those devised by children or athletes. They are subtle and easily disguised by those doing the shaking. Generally this is the final confirmation. It would be awkward to try to give a secret handshake to someone who didn't know it (especially a stranger).
The trick with secret societies is that they want to be able to function out it the bright sunlight with lots of people around. Clandestine meetings are all well and good, but dark alleys tend to be populated with all manner of ruffians. The favorite example these days is Hydra (thank you Marvel). How would it be possible for this organization to function with so many secret members? Well, it is pretty unlikely that they could keep that big a secret for so long, but these are pretty simple (almost foolproof) methods for assuring someone's membership in your secret organization.
Now you just need to ensure that no one ever shares the secret. Traditional secret societies have levels of membership, ensuring that only the most committed are entrusted with the deepest secrets of the organization (this is the main problem with the Hydra thing, since one of their biggest secrets is that they exist, which all of the members apparently knew). Those on the basic levels don't want to tell because the exclusivity of the organization is one of the essential draws (much like religion), they might also not realize that they know a secret anyone cares about. When you have deeper levels of commitment, these levels will have their own distinct signs and symbols known only to member of those levels.
Creating secret organizations can be extremely enjoyable. It makes me wonder about those who founded some of those traditional orders (Masons, Elks, fraternities, etc) and created all of their signs and symbols. Did they sit around with their friends thinking, "oh man, it'd be so cool if..." or was it all extremely serious as they assembled their symbology. I hope they had fun. Otherwise it all seems too bizarre.
Secret symbols: There is certain iconography that is associated with secret organizations. They generally represent a specific philosophy and are usually emblematic about how the organization views itself. While the full import of these symbols may not be understood by the general public, they do not tend to be important secrets, and the symbols themselves are not secret. These symbols are too iconic. If you see an eye in a pyramid, you recognize it. When you want to use them, simple symbols are best, used together (like a code) or in conjunction with some other form of sign (physical, auditory, whatever).
Code words: Like symbols, these phrases require simplicity. It is essential that these phrases remain unobtrusive to the people around you as well as the person you're speaking them to, if they are not members of the same organization. They should be universal. You don't want anyone on the outside to know you're looking for a coded phrase. You can ask a question, or make an observation that would seem perfectly normal to anyone on the outside, but (naturally) their response would not be correct. The correct response should be a little odd, but connected to the intro phrase. An additional trait is that the intro phrase should be easy to disengage from. If you ask directions and then don't follow them (because it's the wrong person), that individual might get suspicious.
example: "Have you ever been to Samarkand?"
"Yes, by way of Belgrade."
Both are perfectly reasonable. No one listening would be suspicious. An outsider could give the same answer, but it is extremely unlikely.
Coded gestures: Gestures are often the introductory code. If I rub my earlobe, you rub your hands together, or something. Mirroring is often the preferred method (I wiggle my nose, you wiggle yours, kind of thing, though perhaps something a bit more natural). Following this you may move on to the coded phrases. The most famous coded gestures are secret handshakes. These are not elaborate things, like those devised by children or athletes. They are subtle and easily disguised by those doing the shaking. Generally this is the final confirmation. It would be awkward to try to give a secret handshake to someone who didn't know it (especially a stranger).
The trick with secret societies is that they want to be able to function out it the bright sunlight with lots of people around. Clandestine meetings are all well and good, but dark alleys tend to be populated with all manner of ruffians. The favorite example these days is Hydra (thank you Marvel). How would it be possible for this organization to function with so many secret members? Well, it is pretty unlikely that they could keep that big a secret for so long, but these are pretty simple (almost foolproof) methods for assuring someone's membership in your secret organization.
Now you just need to ensure that no one ever shares the secret. Traditional secret societies have levels of membership, ensuring that only the most committed are entrusted with the deepest secrets of the organization (this is the main problem with the Hydra thing, since one of their biggest secrets is that they exist, which all of the members apparently knew). Those on the basic levels don't want to tell because the exclusivity of the organization is one of the essential draws (much like religion), they might also not realize that they know a secret anyone cares about. When you have deeper levels of commitment, these levels will have their own distinct signs and symbols known only to member of those levels.
Creating secret organizations can be extremely enjoyable. It makes me wonder about those who founded some of those traditional orders (Masons, Elks, fraternities, etc) and created all of their signs and symbols. Did they sit around with their friends thinking, "oh man, it'd be so cool if..." or was it all extremely serious as they assembled their symbology. I hope they had fun. Otherwise it all seems too bizarre.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Codes
No, I'm not talking about secret messages or systems of morality (though those are worthy topics (I already did some on Morality)). Today I'm sitting in a cafe, looking out of the window, and thinking about building codes. To clarify: there are many highly detailed rules (laws) governing the construction and renovation of buildings.
Building codes are essentially designed for the safety of occupants and the community that may interact with the building feature. These codes regulate lots of things we don't spend much time thinking about, like the height of railings or the thickness of the beams in the ceiling. Fire codes may require multiple modes of egress from any room (which makes being in the labyrinthine basement bars of Prague kind of freaky). Some early cities outlawed the use of wooden roofs, due to the potential to spread fires rapidly from building to building. However, most of these rules only came about as a result of catastrophic events.
While they may have started writing these rules a long time ago, builders and homeowners have been circumventing them for just as long. This is especially true with regard to things inside the house or within the walls that will be hidden from view. Knotty or warped wood might be used in construction, or a weak batch of concrete poured for a foundation. Ceilings without enough support might bow. Walls without enough support may crumble.
In many cases, early construction errors are simply a case of getting the physics wrong, or not knowing the long term effects of stress on materials. There were plenty of folks out there building homes who were not trained in the art. even those that were might have a tough time of it. Some grand cathedrals were simply built too tall and ten or fifty years later, bits fall off. When you see those metal stars on the sides of old brick buildings, they're to keep the walls from collapsing outward. Engineers today tend to over design, (allowing for unexpected stresses and providing a margin for error). In the past it was much more difficult to be sure of the materials you were working with and that they were being utilized properly. Imagine designing and constructing a cathedral without a computer or even a copy machine. Wonky lines and on-the-fly fixes were almost inevitable.
Older buildings are often exempted from new rules due to a "grandfather clause" (I guess that means they're too old to change, though it seems rather terrible to think of grandfathers that way). Grandfather clauses seem to mean that as long as you don't go changing things and nothing goes especially wrong, that you can just leave it alone. This tends to leave some eyebrow raising features in old homes (like old wiring or dangerous staircases). These clauses seem to exist so that new laws aren't too onerous for the entire population simultaneously.
So you're asking yourself why I'm writing about building codes, right? First of all, looking at old building codes can give us an idea what old buildings looked like. If something was outlawed, that must mean that someone was doing it. Secondly, shoddy workmanship is not something new. We often think of it as what gives a house "character" (like sloping floors). Finally, these differences between historical construction requirements and modern ones can make our worlds come alive. Thin walls make rooms cold, as does poor glazing on the windows. Wood rots. Floorboards creak. There is probably only one way out of the basement. Your buildings can be atmosphere as well as a vehicle for the plot. Now, go out there and design some buildings poorly!
Building codes are essentially designed for the safety of occupants and the community that may interact with the building feature. These codes regulate lots of things we don't spend much time thinking about, like the height of railings or the thickness of the beams in the ceiling. Fire codes may require multiple modes of egress from any room (which makes being in the labyrinthine basement bars of Prague kind of freaky). Some early cities outlawed the use of wooden roofs, due to the potential to spread fires rapidly from building to building. However, most of these rules only came about as a result of catastrophic events.
While they may have started writing these rules a long time ago, builders and homeowners have been circumventing them for just as long. This is especially true with regard to things inside the house or within the walls that will be hidden from view. Knotty or warped wood might be used in construction, or a weak batch of concrete poured for a foundation. Ceilings without enough support might bow. Walls without enough support may crumble.
In many cases, early construction errors are simply a case of getting the physics wrong, or not knowing the long term effects of stress on materials. There were plenty of folks out there building homes who were not trained in the art. even those that were might have a tough time of it. Some grand cathedrals were simply built too tall and ten or fifty years later, bits fall off. When you see those metal stars on the sides of old brick buildings, they're to keep the walls from collapsing outward. Engineers today tend to over design, (allowing for unexpected stresses and providing a margin for error). In the past it was much more difficult to be sure of the materials you were working with and that they were being utilized properly. Imagine designing and constructing a cathedral without a computer or even a copy machine. Wonky lines and on-the-fly fixes were almost inevitable.
Older buildings are often exempted from new rules due to a "grandfather clause" (I guess that means they're too old to change, though it seems rather terrible to think of grandfathers that way). Grandfather clauses seem to mean that as long as you don't go changing things and nothing goes especially wrong, that you can just leave it alone. This tends to leave some eyebrow raising features in old homes (like old wiring or dangerous staircases). These clauses seem to exist so that new laws aren't too onerous for the entire population simultaneously.
So you're asking yourself why I'm writing about building codes, right? First of all, looking at old building codes can give us an idea what old buildings looked like. If something was outlawed, that must mean that someone was doing it. Secondly, shoddy workmanship is not something new. We often think of it as what gives a house "character" (like sloping floors). Finally, these differences between historical construction requirements and modern ones can make our worlds come alive. Thin walls make rooms cold, as does poor glazing on the windows. Wood rots. Floorboards creak. There is probably only one way out of the basement. Your buildings can be atmosphere as well as a vehicle for the plot. Now, go out there and design some buildings poorly!
Friday, December 12, 2014
Stuck in a rut
So yeah, I'm a bit rutted at the moment, limiting my inspiration for blog posts. That twined with the holidays and trying to get all of the Christmas shopping in, as well as that little work thing and a special lady taking center stage in my life distracts me a bit from blogging. That being said, I do love this time of year. We've had very little snow to date, but it's coming. For that reason alone I have trouble imagining ever moving out to California.
Prague in winter is a season for depression. The sun only puts in periodic appearances and the days are short (then again, summer nights are long). It makes perfect sense that the Czechs love to get out in "the nature" come summertime. Winter is bundled up (though winter sports are also popular) walking as fast as possible iorder to spend time with friends in the pub. Slivovitze (and its cousins) and Becherovka become more popular at this time of year. Personal hygiene is not necessarily a priority at this time of year (it is getting better though), possibly folks don't want to go outside with a wet head. This isn't so bad on the tram, but once they get to the office... This also leads to some greasy hair during the season. However, I did have one student who believed in taking cold showers to start the day, or using the lake, so he was cleaner than most (though a little odd. He was also a beekeeper).
Spending six months in Brazil was a rather different thing. I only got to experience a very limited amount of the rainy season, but it made sense of a lot of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Even in a planned city, like Brazilia, the storm drains couldn't handle the water. The ground just can't absorb the water and it flows along paths and down the streets. A five minute walk to work would leave me absolutely soaked (I wore flip flops and changed into shoes at the office). Most folks don't have clothes driers, so hanging on a line in the house, nothing really gets dry. It's not surprising that clothes wear out. Then again, it's a period of renewal and blooming flowers are everywhere. In the summer it's hot and dry, but things start to turn brown (hooray for drought resistant plants) and the dust kicks up.
It's the change of seasons more than the new calendar that makes me take stock of my life. It reminds me that things are changing, that I'm not accomplishing as much as I want to, that I'm getting older, and that we only have so much time allotted to us. I always enjoy putting old winter jackets and finding old receipts or programs to remember what I was up to the year before. Cookie baking before Christmas revs me up for the holidays. The cycle of the year helps to tie me into the world around me, to make me remember that each day is a part of the whole of my life. It reminds me that I need to take certain steps today so I can take more tomorrow to get out of this rut.
If you want to think about how to apply all of this to your storytelling, remember that at different times of year there are different tasks to accomplish. Daylight hours shift. There are different materials available to work with. Their routines change in response to the world around them. Assuming your characters aren't adventuring in Southern California, using seasonal changes is a great way to break them out of a rut. Hell, there is usually a festival around that time for some reason or another anyway, right? Every season can be a season of renewal. I hope you enjoy this one.
Prague in winter is a season for depression. The sun only puts in periodic appearances and the days are short (then again, summer nights are long). It makes perfect sense that the Czechs love to get out in "the nature" come summertime. Winter is bundled up (though winter sports are also popular) walking as fast as possible iorder to spend time with friends in the pub. Slivovitze (and its cousins) and Becherovka become more popular at this time of year. Personal hygiene is not necessarily a priority at this time of year (it is getting better though), possibly folks don't want to go outside with a wet head. This isn't so bad on the tram, but once they get to the office... This also leads to some greasy hair during the season. However, I did have one student who believed in taking cold showers to start the day, or using the lake, so he was cleaner than most (though a little odd. He was also a beekeeper).
Spending six months in Brazil was a rather different thing. I only got to experience a very limited amount of the rainy season, but it made sense of a lot of Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Even in a planned city, like Brazilia, the storm drains couldn't handle the water. The ground just can't absorb the water and it flows along paths and down the streets. A five minute walk to work would leave me absolutely soaked (I wore flip flops and changed into shoes at the office). Most folks don't have clothes driers, so hanging on a line in the house, nothing really gets dry. It's not surprising that clothes wear out. Then again, it's a period of renewal and blooming flowers are everywhere. In the summer it's hot and dry, but things start to turn brown (hooray for drought resistant plants) and the dust kicks up.
It's the change of seasons more than the new calendar that makes me take stock of my life. It reminds me that things are changing, that I'm not accomplishing as much as I want to, that I'm getting older, and that we only have so much time allotted to us. I always enjoy putting old winter jackets and finding old receipts or programs to remember what I was up to the year before. Cookie baking before Christmas revs me up for the holidays. The cycle of the year helps to tie me into the world around me, to make me remember that each day is a part of the whole of my life. It reminds me that I need to take certain steps today so I can take more tomorrow to get out of this rut.
If you want to think about how to apply all of this to your storytelling, remember that at different times of year there are different tasks to accomplish. Daylight hours shift. There are different materials available to work with. Their routines change in response to the world around them. Assuming your characters aren't adventuring in Southern California, using seasonal changes is a great way to break them out of a rut. Hell, there is usually a festival around that time for some reason or another anyway, right? Every season can be a season of renewal. I hope you enjoy this one.
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Staircase pondering
Just a quick one for today.
I was doing some envisioning of passages in my underground world. Sitting here, I was working out just how far ahead the chambers would have been planned and designed. Would there be large open chambers, like in the Moria sequences from the LotR movies? How the hell would you do it? Who would design so many stairways without guard rails? (Okay, now I'm getting off track)
This reminded me of the little castle defense trick of having tower staircases curl upward in the clockwise direction to give righties the advantage in defending the high places. Yes, most of the world is right-handed and didn't they used to think lefties were devil worshipers or something? Did "sinister" always have a sinister connotation? Damn, off track again.
It also reminded me of a tour I took of St. Vitus Cathedral, in Prague. One of the really cool features was a paired staircase (think double helix). Standing on the rooftop, their entrances were essentially side by side, but one exits inside the cathedral and the other outside (yes, there was a locked door on the outside one). It was a little short on headspace, but it's a nice way to save materials and space. Sorry to say, but it's not on the regular tour (it helps to teach the staff).
The double helix design could be used for defensive purposes or for traffic control purposes. It'd certainly be confusing for an attacker to be faced with this configuration. With two adjacent staircases leading to two adjacent, but separate, rooms. They could also lead to different levels within the complex, kind of like the local and express trains (or, more aptly, those elevators in high rises that only access the upper floors). Hmmm kinda like that absurdly long stair that Gandalf climbs. You might not even know there is a staircase twined to the one you know. Thinking about it, I'm sure it's a common element in Mystery novels, but I can't say I've read many.
Oh, to continue the thought on defensive stairs, apparently they also used to design trap stairs. No, I don't mean stairs that would drop you into a pit of spikes. These would just have an stair with an uneven depth or height, which defenders would know, but attackers would trip up (since their attention is hopefully engaged by the defender's sword strokes). Here, I just thought I was a clumsy tourist. Seems it was a conspiracy after all.
Alright, alright, that's enough. As you can see, some of the details of construction can lead to beautiful little story details. The child who always counts the steps in transit, may escape the vile attacking knight chasing him/her on the trick one. Being a lefty has a number of advantages (as well as the potential stigma, depending on your world). Choosing the right or the left-hand stair might be more important than we thought. Knowing how the details fit together can help you envision your story, which may just help you tell it. I know it works for me.
I was doing some envisioning of passages in my underground world. Sitting here, I was working out just how far ahead the chambers would have been planned and designed. Would there be large open chambers, like in the Moria sequences from the LotR movies? How the hell would you do it? Who would design so many stairways without guard rails? (Okay, now I'm getting off track)
This reminded me of the little castle defense trick of having tower staircases curl upward in the clockwise direction to give righties the advantage in defending the high places. Yes, most of the world is right-handed and didn't they used to think lefties were devil worshipers or something? Did "sinister" always have a sinister connotation? Damn, off track again.
It also reminded me of a tour I took of St. Vitus Cathedral, in Prague. One of the really cool features was a paired staircase (think double helix). Standing on the rooftop, their entrances were essentially side by side, but one exits inside the cathedral and the other outside (yes, there was a locked door on the outside one). It was a little short on headspace, but it's a nice way to save materials and space. Sorry to say, but it's not on the regular tour (it helps to teach the staff).
The double helix design could be used for defensive purposes or for traffic control purposes. It'd certainly be confusing for an attacker to be faced with this configuration. With two adjacent staircases leading to two adjacent, but separate, rooms. They could also lead to different levels within the complex, kind of like the local and express trains (or, more aptly, those elevators in high rises that only access the upper floors). Hmmm kinda like that absurdly long stair that Gandalf climbs. You might not even know there is a staircase twined to the one you know. Thinking about it, I'm sure it's a common element in Mystery novels, but I can't say I've read many.
Oh, to continue the thought on defensive stairs, apparently they also used to design trap stairs. No, I don't mean stairs that would drop you into a pit of spikes. These would just have an stair with an uneven depth or height, which defenders would know, but attackers would trip up (since their attention is hopefully engaged by the defender's sword strokes). Here, I just thought I was a clumsy tourist. Seems it was a conspiracy after all.
Alright, alright, that's enough. As you can see, some of the details of construction can lead to beautiful little story details. The child who always counts the steps in transit, may escape the vile attacking knight chasing him/her on the trick one. Being a lefty has a number of advantages (as well as the potential stigma, depending on your world). Choosing the right or the left-hand stair might be more important than we thought. Knowing how the details fit together can help you envision your story, which may just help you tell it. I know it works for me.
Friday, December 5, 2014
Sharpen your knives
Multiple inspirations for today's post. First was a friend at work talking about bringing his various cutting implements back up to full working order and second was the enjoyment of the "Oliver!" soundtrack. Obviously, with a lifetime of Fantasy reading, I have a certain affection for bladed items (tools, weapons, outfits, etc). Many blades you might buy today are designed with the collector, the reenacter, or the athlete (traditional or more full contact fencing) in mind. They all have their place, hell, I own a few, but to understand what a sword really is, you have to put an edge on it.
Any good craftsman knows how important it is to take care of his tools. Their workshops are carefully arranged and organized, even if they appear cluttered to you or I. For a warrior, the care and handling of their personal weapons and armor are of primary importance. These are not just weekend playthings or dress up items, but how they earn a living and guard their own lives in the process. Any warrior worth his/her salt will be well aware of the appropriate care and maintenance of these items.
As might be expected, different weapons call for different edges (well, maces don't tend to have any edges, but that's not the point right now). Tougher materials call for blades of a wider angle (like axes for chopping wood) while soft materials require a much narrower angle of blade (razors have a very narrow angle on the cutting edge). The overall geometry of these cutting devices can be left up to the smith, but the shape and materials used will influence how often and what style of maintenance will be required.
Edge making occurs in three general steps:
1) sharpening - this is the process of removing metal to create a new edge. Many different stones of increasing fineness may be used in this process. This step is required both for a new blade and when removing nicks or gouges from a damaged blade.
2) straightening - this is the process of truing the existing metal of the blade, but not removing significant amounts of metal. This is the step chefs are performing when they use the steel in the kitchen on their knives.
3) polishing - this puts a mirror finish on the blade without significantly altering its edge.
Fine blades (referring to the narrow angle) are straightened with great regularity, razors may be stropped before and during a shave, but only need a fine sharpening every few months and a coarse sharpening every few years. Similar attention is paid to kitchen knives that see heavy use.
An axe used for chopping wood may not need to be sharpened more than once per year, depending on use. However, axes used for hewing limbs and cutting through armor are rather different and would require maintenance on par with a sword blade (though having a shorter blade, it'll take less of your free time). Please remember that while tools can be used as weapons, they are not always ideally suited to the task of slaughter and may result in breakage or inconvenient sticking in bones.
Sharpening is traditionally done with the use of a whetstone. This process is called "stoning." These stones are typically lubricated with oil or water (see your handling instructions). Whetstones may have a flat or slightly curved surface and require a consistent grain throughout to produce the desired edge. For simple tools a large grindstone (pictured above) may be perfectly adequate, but for a real swordsman, that is just the startingplace.
Japanese swords have a very different tradition than those of Europe. The smiths have long been considered great artists, training for years to hone their craft. Today, apprenticing to become a sword smith takes eight years. Apprenticing to become a sword polisher takes ten. Sword polishers in Japan were not tinkers wandering the streets looking for work. They were (and are) respected craftsmen who enabled warriors to practice their own craft at the highest levels.
It is important to remember that polishing is an essentially destructive act. The more you sharpen a blade, the less material remains. Using a stone on your sword every night may keep it sharp, but you'll grind away that expensive tool. Only after use do you need to test it for sharpness. Otherwise, just keep it freshly oiled to keep your blade from getting rusty and enjoy years of troublefree usage. Happy maiming everybody!
Sharpening Wiki - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knife_sharpening
Japanese sword polishing - http://www.nihonzashi.com/diy_sword_sharpening.aspx
Japanese sword polishing - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_sword_polishing
| http://chestofbooks.com/home-improvement/workshop/Handy-Man/The-Grindstone.html#.VIH15cu9KSM |
As might be expected, different weapons call for different edges (well, maces don't tend to have any edges, but that's not the point right now). Tougher materials call for blades of a wider angle (like axes for chopping wood) while soft materials require a much narrower angle of blade (razors have a very narrow angle on the cutting edge). The overall geometry of these cutting devices can be left up to the smith, but the shape and materials used will influence how often and what style of maintenance will be required.
Edge making occurs in three general steps:
1) sharpening - this is the process of removing metal to create a new edge. Many different stones of increasing fineness may be used in this process. This step is required both for a new blade and when removing nicks or gouges from a damaged blade.
2) straightening - this is the process of truing the existing metal of the blade, but not removing significant amounts of metal. This is the step chefs are performing when they use the steel in the kitchen on their knives.
3) polishing - this puts a mirror finish on the blade without significantly altering its edge.
Fine blades (referring to the narrow angle) are straightened with great regularity, razors may be stropped before and during a shave, but only need a fine sharpening every few months and a coarse sharpening every few years. Similar attention is paid to kitchen knives that see heavy use.
An axe used for chopping wood may not need to be sharpened more than once per year, depending on use. However, axes used for hewing limbs and cutting through armor are rather different and would require maintenance on par with a sword blade (though having a shorter blade, it'll take less of your free time). Please remember that while tools can be used as weapons, they are not always ideally suited to the task of slaughter and may result in breakage or inconvenient sticking in bones.
Sharpening is traditionally done with the use of a whetstone. This process is called "stoning." These stones are typically lubricated with oil or water (see your handling instructions). Whetstones may have a flat or slightly curved surface and require a consistent grain throughout to produce the desired edge. For simple tools a large grindstone (pictured above) may be perfectly adequate, but for a real swordsman, that is just the startingplace.
Japanese swords have a very different tradition than those of Europe. The smiths have long been considered great artists, training for years to hone their craft. Today, apprenticing to become a sword smith takes eight years. Apprenticing to become a sword polisher takes ten. Sword polishers in Japan were not tinkers wandering the streets looking for work. They were (and are) respected craftsmen who enabled warriors to practice their own craft at the highest levels.
It is important to remember that polishing is an essentially destructive act. The more you sharpen a blade, the less material remains. Using a stone on your sword every night may keep it sharp, but you'll grind away that expensive tool. Only after use do you need to test it for sharpness. Otherwise, just keep it freshly oiled to keep your blade from getting rusty and enjoy years of troublefree usage. Happy maiming everybody!
Sharpening Wiki - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knife_sharpening
Japanese sword polishing - http://www.nihonzashi.com/diy_sword_sharpening.aspx
Japanese sword polishing - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_sword_polishing
Sunday, November 30, 2014
Snow (on roofs)
Yeah yeah, I know it's a little early for this, but with the troubles in Buffalo the other weekend it came up in conversation and I've been thinking about the effects of heavy snowfalls on communities, historically. We've all seen those paintings of country cottages with a thick puffy load of snow on the roof and a curl of smoke rising from the chimney, but what happens when it gets really heavy?
I know that in some areas the snow load on a roof can cause it to collapse. Most places where this was/is a big concern had/have more steeply pitched roofs to prevent such accumulation. In the US, we have plenty of folks who climb up othe roof to shovel snow in the event of an unusually heavy fall (sometimes resulting in injury or death as the shoveler takes a ride down with the snow). One winter while I was in Prague, we had a warm spell after some lengthy accumulation and the places that hadn't been shoveled became real hazards (being 5 or 6 stories tall), doing a fair amount of damage to both people and property when it dumped into the street below. I don't imagine that these are new concerns.
Heat, whether from within the home, or without, is the primary factor. Most homes would be heated by a fire. Different materials were burned for this purpose (wood, coal, charcoal, peat, animal wastes), depending on what was locally available and cheap. However, fireplaces do create drafts, and tend to only heat the area immediately surrounding the flames. This is why people had those little footwarmers for church, special bed-warmers (no, I don't mean their lovers), and so on. Still today in the Czech Republic, especially in the little cottages, you find that the wood-fired stoves are in the middle of the kitchen/dining room and lined with ceramic tiles, the better to radiate heat into the house instead of losing it up the chimney. You'll find similar, though on a larger scale and just intended for heat, in large public buildings. These large heaters used brightly colored and highly decorated tiles to distribute the heat about the room. Unfortunately, most of the heat would still be lost out the windows, even if they did use double sets of glass.
A contributing factor to the presence of snow on a roof is insulation. These days you can tell the poorly insulated homes when it snows, by the barren spots on their roofs. While they certainly didn't use as much insulation back in the day, there also wasn't central heating (well, not the timeperiods I employ). Naturally, the areas around the chimney stack would be melted clear by the warmed stone/brick, but what about the rest of it? Part of the issue may be whether the top level in a specific home was living space, or just used for storage. A storage space, thoroughly jammed with odds and ends might just protect the floors below. I'm thinking any building with a hay loft would stay toastier for this same reason. If the heat goes straightthrough the roof, it'd be bad for keeping warm, but might decrease the snow load in wintertime.
For all of the research I do here on the Internet, I'm just not sure how to go about finding this information. Maybe I just need to do more reading on Russia, or Scandinavian countries, to find out about their realities. Was it a simple case of building for the climate? I suppose that back in the day, you spent more time in the house, come winter, so you could hear the roof creaking before it collapsed on you... Maybe one of my faithful readers has some suggestions or a direction to point me in. Maybe folks just got out and shoveled the damn roof. resultant injuries were just a part of life. Usually I can sus out the right questions to ask, but I'm a little baffled on this one. The answers aren't satisfying me quite yet. Thank goodness most of my stories have taken place in the summer so far.
Heating Prague Castle - https://www.flickr.com/photos/17999863@N00/4704439970/
Comfort heating - http://www.achrnews.com/articles/87035-an-early-history-of-comfort-heating
I know that in some areas the snow load on a roof can cause it to collapse. Most places where this was/is a big concern had/have more steeply pitched roofs to prevent such accumulation. In the US, we have plenty of folks who climb up othe roof to shovel snow in the event of an unusually heavy fall (sometimes resulting in injury or death as the shoveler takes a ride down with the snow). One winter while I was in Prague, we had a warm spell after some lengthy accumulation and the places that hadn't been shoveled became real hazards (being 5 or 6 stories tall), doing a fair amount of damage to both people and property when it dumped into the street below. I don't imagine that these are new concerns.
Heat, whether from within the home, or without, is the primary factor. Most homes would be heated by a fire. Different materials were burned for this purpose (wood, coal, charcoal, peat, animal wastes), depending on what was locally available and cheap. However, fireplaces do create drafts, and tend to only heat the area immediately surrounding the flames. This is why people had those little footwarmers for church, special bed-warmers (no, I don't mean their lovers), and so on. Still today in the Czech Republic, especially in the little cottages, you find that the wood-fired stoves are in the middle of the kitchen/dining room and lined with ceramic tiles, the better to radiate heat into the house instead of losing it up the chimney. You'll find similar, though on a larger scale and just intended for heat, in large public buildings. These large heaters used brightly colored and highly decorated tiles to distribute the heat about the room. Unfortunately, most of the heat would still be lost out the windows, even if they did use double sets of glass.
A contributing factor to the presence of snow on a roof is insulation. These days you can tell the poorly insulated homes when it snows, by the barren spots on their roofs. While they certainly didn't use as much insulation back in the day, there also wasn't central heating (well, not the timeperiods I employ). Naturally, the areas around the chimney stack would be melted clear by the warmed stone/brick, but what about the rest of it? Part of the issue may be whether the top level in a specific home was living space, or just used for storage. A storage space, thoroughly jammed with odds and ends might just protect the floors below. I'm thinking any building with a hay loft would stay toastier for this same reason. If the heat goes straightthrough the roof, it'd be bad for keeping warm, but might decrease the snow load in wintertime.
For all of the research I do here on the Internet, I'm just not sure how to go about finding this information. Maybe I just need to do more reading on Russia, or Scandinavian countries, to find out about their realities. Was it a simple case of building for the climate? I suppose that back in the day, you spent more time in the house, come winter, so you could hear the roof creaking before it collapsed on you... Maybe one of my faithful readers has some suggestions or a direction to point me in. Maybe folks just got out and shoveled the damn roof. resultant injuries were just a part of life. Usually I can sus out the right questions to ask, but I'm a little baffled on this one. The answers aren't satisfying me quite yet. Thank goodness most of my stories have taken place in the summer so far.
Heating Prague Castle - https://www.flickr.com/photos/17999863@N00/4704439970/
Comfort heating - http://www.achrnews.com/articles/87035-an-early-history-of-comfort-heating
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Mapping
Maps are beasties notoriously difficult to get right. Before even thinking about the tools of measuring and recording the information to depict, we are generally talking about depicting a 3D world in a 2D format. Then, of course, our world is a spheroid, so if we're doing a world map, we need to take the contours of the planet into consideration (yes, there is a West Wing episode that discusses this and more). Yes, I'm going to blame China Mieville for making me think about all of this again since I started reading The City & The City.
I find it oddly enjoyable to go back over old maps and globe that I encounter and see how many countries don't exist anymore (ok, it makes me feel a little old too). Even more fascinating is to study maps that were created well before modern cartographic methods. Really, people made treaties based on these things? I guess, if you had nothing better...
Before we all get too smug about how sad and simple our ancestors were, I suggest you have a go at drawing a small map, to scale. Try your back yard and see how well you do. I had to do one in college as part of a Geology class, in an open field with clearly identifiable landmarks, using Brunton compasses, but only our strides to measure distances. Give is a try. Go ahead, I can wait.
(Whistles)
Now, for the moment, I'm going to ignore seafaring charts and rudders (thank you for all that info, Shogun) to keep this conversation with myself relatively simple.
Creating a map is a simple concept that gets dicier the bigger you get. If you can see all of the things on your map simultaneously in real life, then it's relatively easy to freehand the map pretty close to accurate (so long as you take a turn standing on each of the cardinal points in the real world while looking at the finished product to make sure there is no distortion over distance). It probably won't be very accurate compared to today's detailed mapping, but a damn slice better than what de Gama had to work with. The hard part comes when the mapmaker can't see from one edge of his subject to the other. Then (if you're not just going to motherfuck it) you have to rely on measurements and triangulation. Triangulation (for the uninitiated) is the process of identifying a point in space relative to three fixed points. Sounds simple enough, but guess again.
One of the essential difficulties in triangulation is the measurement of distance. We can ignore the "what is a foot?" question for the moment as long as we are not comparing two different maps. The difficulty comes in the form of topography. If I am on a level field, it is relatively easy to step off the distances. Rolling hills increase the degree of difficulty. No, the difficulty is not from getting tired. The distance we are trying to measure is the horizontal displacement (yes, we are on a curved planet. No one said this was easy, or at least I didn't). When you include vertical displacement you create error (the lines triangulating your fixed point will cross, instead of meeting prettily). This why surveyors use the system with the "dummy stick."
The other big issue I'll cover today is, "what constitutes a fixed point?" A corner of a building is useful. A tree will probably be there for a while, but where is the point that a mountain begins? Where is the edge of the forest? How many points do you need to measure the bends of a stream or river? If we're drawing a map that is divided by a mountain chain, how do we line up those two sides? How do you triangualte a coastline? It feels like we refer to traditional cartography as an "art" for a pretty good reason.
"Here there be dragons," is part of the lore of cartography, but there were plenty of unknowns and inaccuracies within a map's boundaries as well. Some of this improved as the compass came into general circulation and you could take bearings on fixed points (essentially using the angles, as well as sides of the triangle) instead of just measuring distances. However, inaccuracies persisted. This can't be surprising, if you've ever tried to get driving directions from your computer. There weren't gangs of surveyors out constantly making sure the mountains were in the right places or that the rivers bent just so. Old maps were copied and old mistakes calcified. Later mapmakers created "trap streets" and even faked towns in an effort to combat plagiarism (these were intentional mistakes by the mapmaker that would clearly mark another's work as a copy). Yup, really.
You might be asking yourself, "what the fuck does this have to do with Fantasy writing?" Well, I'll tell you. One of my favorite bits of early Fantasy reading was from the minds of Weiss and Hickman, using an old map to lead a party of adventurers to a sea that no longer existed. It's an easy way to get lost, to mistime an army's pincer movement, to unintentionally cross a boarder, and so on. Bad maps (and heroes with a bad sense of direction) are a simple plot device that can be put to any number of uses. Why don't you have some fun with your today?
West Wing clip - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qZNeUkwB3nM
Surveying Supplies - http://www.engineersupply.com/surveying-equipment.aspx
Map Traps - http://www.gislounge.com/map-traps-intentional-mapping-errors-combat-plagiarism/
Surveying Wiki - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surveying
I find it oddly enjoyable to go back over old maps and globe that I encounter and see how many countries don't exist anymore (ok, it makes me feel a little old too). Even more fascinating is to study maps that were created well before modern cartographic methods. Really, people made treaties based on these things? I guess, if you had nothing better...
Before we all get too smug about how sad and simple our ancestors were, I suggest you have a go at drawing a small map, to scale. Try your back yard and see how well you do. I had to do one in college as part of a Geology class, in an open field with clearly identifiable landmarks, using Brunton compasses, but only our strides to measure distances. Give is a try. Go ahead, I can wait.
(Whistles)
Now, for the moment, I'm going to ignore seafaring charts and rudders (thank you for all that info, Shogun) to keep this conversation with myself relatively simple.
Creating a map is a simple concept that gets dicier the bigger you get. If you can see all of the things on your map simultaneously in real life, then it's relatively easy to freehand the map pretty close to accurate (so long as you take a turn standing on each of the cardinal points in the real world while looking at the finished product to make sure there is no distortion over distance). It probably won't be very accurate compared to today's detailed mapping, but a damn slice better than what de Gama had to work with. The hard part comes when the mapmaker can't see from one edge of his subject to the other. Then (if you're not just going to motherfuck it) you have to rely on measurements and triangulation. Triangulation (for the uninitiated) is the process of identifying a point in space relative to three fixed points. Sounds simple enough, but guess again.
One of the essential difficulties in triangulation is the measurement of distance. We can ignore the "what is a foot?" question for the moment as long as we are not comparing two different maps. The difficulty comes in the form of topography. If I am on a level field, it is relatively easy to step off the distances. Rolling hills increase the degree of difficulty. No, the difficulty is not from getting tired. The distance we are trying to measure is the horizontal displacement (yes, we are on a curved planet. No one said this was easy, or at least I didn't). When you include vertical displacement you create error (the lines triangulating your fixed point will cross, instead of meeting prettily). This why surveyors use the system with the "dummy stick."
The other big issue I'll cover today is, "what constitutes a fixed point?" A corner of a building is useful. A tree will probably be there for a while, but where is the point that a mountain begins? Where is the edge of the forest? How many points do you need to measure the bends of a stream or river? If we're drawing a map that is divided by a mountain chain, how do we line up those two sides? How do you triangualte a coastline? It feels like we refer to traditional cartography as an "art" for a pretty good reason.
"Here there be dragons," is part of the lore of cartography, but there were plenty of unknowns and inaccuracies within a map's boundaries as well. Some of this improved as the compass came into general circulation and you could take bearings on fixed points (essentially using the angles, as well as sides of the triangle) instead of just measuring distances. However, inaccuracies persisted. This can't be surprising, if you've ever tried to get driving directions from your computer. There weren't gangs of surveyors out constantly making sure the mountains were in the right places or that the rivers bent just so. Old maps were copied and old mistakes calcified. Later mapmakers created "trap streets" and even faked towns in an effort to combat plagiarism (these were intentional mistakes by the mapmaker that would clearly mark another's work as a copy). Yup, really.
You might be asking yourself, "what the fuck does this have to do with Fantasy writing?" Well, I'll tell you. One of my favorite bits of early Fantasy reading was from the minds of Weiss and Hickman, using an old map to lead a party of adventurers to a sea that no longer existed. It's an easy way to get lost, to mistime an army's pincer movement, to unintentionally cross a boarder, and so on. Bad maps (and heroes with a bad sense of direction) are a simple plot device that can be put to any number of uses. Why don't you have some fun with your today?
West Wing clip - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qZNeUkwB3nM
Surveying Supplies - http://www.engineersupply.com/surveying-equipment.aspx
Map Traps - http://www.gislounge.com/map-traps-intentional-mapping-errors-combat-plagiarism/
Surveying Wiki - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Surveying
Friday, November 21, 2014
Injuries and Illnesses (preliminary)
Growing up with a pediatrician in the house (thanks Dad) minimized the effects of illness and injury about as much as possible. I remember a specific evening where we went to his office so he could sew up my knee and there were numerous occasions when I was dosed with the appropriate samples of medications brought home from the office after a call from mom (who was a nurse). I wasn't exactly injure prone (never broke a bone of any significance), but there was rarely any real concern about my physical well-being or the best ways to take care of my health. This makes my childhood significantly different from kids I grew up around, much less those who grew up 500 years ago (who I like to write about).
We know that childhood today is significantly different than in days of yore (college added Growing Up in Medieval London, by Barbara Hanawalt, to my collection) and that medicine has made certain advances, but relatively few of our Fantasy characters seem to reflect those differences. Again, here GRRM is an exception, though he has helpfully provided the crippled boy with a gentle giant to portage him about. When I think about the numbers of my friends who have suffered broken arms or legs during the course of their lives, I start to think there should be a fair number more limpers about.
Scars have become more common on our heroes, especially if you like Joe Abercrombie's brand of story, but it's still mostly the "bad guys" who get disfigured. I had a regular at my old restaurant who was missing the fingertips (what do you call the finger segments again?) on his right hand, probably from a workplace accident, but it didn't seem polite to ask. Workplace accidents are hardly uncommon, especially in the trades. Medieval style worlds may not have those factory death-traps that Steampunk worlds should, but do you think farms don't have their hazards? Kids through the ages have always had to learn their limits the hard way.
Professional warriors will bear more than scars as evidence of their trade. In recent reading I came across an article about cauliflower ear and its causes. I knew a bit about this, having been friends with some wrestlers, but when I read the ESPN bit about it (see the notes below) yesterday, it struck me that these are a bit more than cosmetic concerns. In the article, the MMA fighter mentions that she had been removing syringes worth of fluid from the ears, regularly, prior to hers exploding in the fight (there are pictures, so be warned). It seems reasonable to assume that this condition would not be uncommon in professional soldiers and townspeople who enjoy their share of rough-housing.
Illnesses also leave their marks upon the afflicted. Lung infections may permanently decrease someone's endurance. Poxes will leave their scars (for those who survive them). Childhood diseases may affect development. Boils wouldn't be uncommon. Lots of fun diseases leave physical reminders you can inflict upon your characters.
As we've mentioned before, sometimes the intended cures will leave worse marks than the illnesses. Mercury as a cure, really? Poultices were potential sources of infection, depending on what you used (some were actually effective). People still put butter on burns. Some of the syphalis cures are fun to read about as well. You think they'd be deterrent enough.
I've droned on long enough. It's a good start on a lengthy topic. I don't mean to sound gleeful about the suffering of others, but writing for me (as difficult as it can be) is always play. Children are not more careful today than they were 500 years ago, we just have better medicine. Their lives were not safer. You can argue that more of them died as a result, but plenty made it through. Injuries are part of life and caring for them was part of the common lore (even if some was fallacious), leaving us with scars and lost limbs instead of fatalities. I personally have a nice little scar on my arm from brushing against a hot skillet. Give you characters a scar or two. Give your characters a history.
Cauliflower Ear - http://io9.com/what-is-a-cauliflower-ear-1659097505
Graphic info regarding CE - http://espn.go.com/espnw/news-commentary/article/11906630/how-ufc-leslie-smith-recovering-exploded-cauliflower-ear
We know that childhood today is significantly different than in days of yore (college added Growing Up in Medieval London, by Barbara Hanawalt, to my collection) and that medicine has made certain advances, but relatively few of our Fantasy characters seem to reflect those differences. Again, here GRRM is an exception, though he has helpfully provided the crippled boy with a gentle giant to portage him about. When I think about the numbers of my friends who have suffered broken arms or legs during the course of their lives, I start to think there should be a fair number more limpers about.
Scars have become more common on our heroes, especially if you like Joe Abercrombie's brand of story, but it's still mostly the "bad guys" who get disfigured. I had a regular at my old restaurant who was missing the fingertips (what do you call the finger segments again?) on his right hand, probably from a workplace accident, but it didn't seem polite to ask. Workplace accidents are hardly uncommon, especially in the trades. Medieval style worlds may not have those factory death-traps that Steampunk worlds should, but do you think farms don't have their hazards? Kids through the ages have always had to learn their limits the hard way.
Professional warriors will bear more than scars as evidence of their trade. In recent reading I came across an article about cauliflower ear and its causes. I knew a bit about this, having been friends with some wrestlers, but when I read the ESPN bit about it (see the notes below) yesterday, it struck me that these are a bit more than cosmetic concerns. In the article, the MMA fighter mentions that she had been removing syringes worth of fluid from the ears, regularly, prior to hers exploding in the fight (there are pictures, so be warned). It seems reasonable to assume that this condition would not be uncommon in professional soldiers and townspeople who enjoy their share of rough-housing.
Illnesses also leave their marks upon the afflicted. Lung infections may permanently decrease someone's endurance. Poxes will leave their scars (for those who survive them). Childhood diseases may affect development. Boils wouldn't be uncommon. Lots of fun diseases leave physical reminders you can inflict upon your characters.
As we've mentioned before, sometimes the intended cures will leave worse marks than the illnesses. Mercury as a cure, really? Poultices were potential sources of infection, depending on what you used (some were actually effective). People still put butter on burns. Some of the syphalis cures are fun to read about as well. You think they'd be deterrent enough.
I've droned on long enough. It's a good start on a lengthy topic. I don't mean to sound gleeful about the suffering of others, but writing for me (as difficult as it can be) is always play. Children are not more careful today than they were 500 years ago, we just have better medicine. Their lives were not safer. You can argue that more of them died as a result, but plenty made it through. Injuries are part of life and caring for them was part of the common lore (even if some was fallacious), leaving us with scars and lost limbs instead of fatalities. I personally have a nice little scar on my arm from brushing against a hot skillet. Give you characters a scar or two. Give your characters a history.
Cauliflower Ear - http://io9.com/what-is-a-cauliflower-ear-1659097505
Graphic info regarding CE - http://espn.go.com/espnw/news-commentary/article/11906630/how-ufc-leslie-smith-recovering-exploded-cauliflower-ear
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Train stations
Yes, I know it sounds like an odd post for an aspiring Fantasy author, but hear me out.
A long time ago I took a trip around Europe. For three weeks I traversed England, France, and Germany (taking a step or three into Scotland and Switzerland), mostly by train. Yes, I only had a backpack. No, I didn't spend much time in my tent, but I was happy to have it on a couple of occasions. To get back on point, in that time, I noticed that there seemed to be an almost national character about each country's rail system. It's quite possible that memory has played tricks, or that I layered my preconceived notions onto my observations, but whenever you have a national system (In your world), the character of that nation can be implied by the physical manifestation of that system.
The English rail system seemed picturesque. The buildings seemed to be constructed out of storybooks, with flower filled window-boxes and rustic touches. One of my trains was followed by a helicopter, aparently shooting a documentary about scenic train trips (at least i think that was a camera mount). Everything seemd very carefully controlled, even if the trains didn't always run on schedule. What really seemed to tell though, was the layers of paint visible on the metalwork. The joint between the beams and the rivets was hidden under generations of upkeep. It was like the country as a whole was consciously and collectively trying to hold on to some ideal history and the paint might be the only thing holding it together.
France was a very different story. It seemed to be more about faded glory. Stone and plaster were crumbling. The paint was chipped and fading. Steel showed trails of rust. The stations were open and airy, with the sense that they used to be somehow more full, of people and life. Maybe they had sold some of the old furnishings. There was little to keep you from wandering across the tracks, the ones with the flowering weeds sprouted between the ties. Trains ran... Unless the workers were on strike.
Germany served as a clear contrast to the others. Germany's railways were clean and modern, all glass and steel. Clear signage pointed you where you needed to go and the trains always seemed to run on time. Like in the US, trains are a means to an end, not a symbol of the past. The past isn't important anyway, right?
More recently I spent a few years living in the Czech Republic. While Prague has some nice stations, most of the outlying towns and cities are not so lucky. Most of the trains have paint faded in the sun, from being in service for so long. Stations tend to be concrete boxes, with some severe wooden benches where you can sit while you hope your train will some day arrive. Some of these stations did have pretty great Soviet style murals on the interiors, or old metal symbols on the exterior. When I worked in Kladno, I'd frequently walk the tracks for a half mile or so into the station as a shortcut. The Czechs seem to generally support your freedom to get yourself killed.
Brazil didn't have much of a train system that I saw. There was a subway, of sorts, in Brasilia and one in Rio, but they didn't go very far. Busses were the main way I got around in Brasil. They tell me that there was a schedule. They posted departure time at Rodoviario Plano Pilota and the Rodoviario in Sudoeste (though Sudoeste's were printed on paper and taped to the pillar by the appropriate bus position), but these were suggestions at best. Bus shelters were usually just a curl of concrete or a cinder block wall with a tin roof to protect you from the rain. They didn't even tell you the bus line servicing the shelters, much less when you could expect the next one, though people in Brasilia tended to leave old books in the shelters, so at least you wouldn't be bored while you waited, even if the maps in them were 20 years out of date.
All of these are simple examples of detail which differentiate one country from another. I could go on for pages about the peculiarities of these institutions. Other examples are things like the postal service, or healthcare. How they impact your characters, like in Kafka's The Castle, will speak to the national psyche. The presence, or lack, or these institutions may also be telling. It is these kinds of touches that can help give depth to your world without requiring a ten page info dump.
A long time ago I took a trip around Europe. For three weeks I traversed England, France, and Germany (taking a step or three into Scotland and Switzerland), mostly by train. Yes, I only had a backpack. No, I didn't spend much time in my tent, but I was happy to have it on a couple of occasions. To get back on point, in that time, I noticed that there seemed to be an almost national character about each country's rail system. It's quite possible that memory has played tricks, or that I layered my preconceived notions onto my observations, but whenever you have a national system (In your world), the character of that nation can be implied by the physical manifestation of that system.
The English rail system seemed picturesque. The buildings seemed to be constructed out of storybooks, with flower filled window-boxes and rustic touches. One of my trains was followed by a helicopter, aparently shooting a documentary about scenic train trips (at least i think that was a camera mount). Everything seemd very carefully controlled, even if the trains didn't always run on schedule. What really seemed to tell though, was the layers of paint visible on the metalwork. The joint between the beams and the rivets was hidden under generations of upkeep. It was like the country as a whole was consciously and collectively trying to hold on to some ideal history and the paint might be the only thing holding it together.
France was a very different story. It seemed to be more about faded glory. Stone and plaster were crumbling. The paint was chipped and fading. Steel showed trails of rust. The stations were open and airy, with the sense that they used to be somehow more full, of people and life. Maybe they had sold some of the old furnishings. There was little to keep you from wandering across the tracks, the ones with the flowering weeds sprouted between the ties. Trains ran... Unless the workers were on strike.
Germany served as a clear contrast to the others. Germany's railways were clean and modern, all glass and steel. Clear signage pointed you where you needed to go and the trains always seemed to run on time. Like in the US, trains are a means to an end, not a symbol of the past. The past isn't important anyway, right?
More recently I spent a few years living in the Czech Republic. While Prague has some nice stations, most of the outlying towns and cities are not so lucky. Most of the trains have paint faded in the sun, from being in service for so long. Stations tend to be concrete boxes, with some severe wooden benches where you can sit while you hope your train will some day arrive. Some of these stations did have pretty great Soviet style murals on the interiors, or old metal symbols on the exterior. When I worked in Kladno, I'd frequently walk the tracks for a half mile or so into the station as a shortcut. The Czechs seem to generally support your freedom to get yourself killed.
Brazil didn't have much of a train system that I saw. There was a subway, of sorts, in Brasilia and one in Rio, but they didn't go very far. Busses were the main way I got around in Brasil. They tell me that there was a schedule. They posted departure time at Rodoviario Plano Pilota and the Rodoviario in Sudoeste (though Sudoeste's were printed on paper and taped to the pillar by the appropriate bus position), but these were suggestions at best. Bus shelters were usually just a curl of concrete or a cinder block wall with a tin roof to protect you from the rain. They didn't even tell you the bus line servicing the shelters, much less when you could expect the next one, though people in Brasilia tended to leave old books in the shelters, so at least you wouldn't be bored while you waited, even if the maps in them were 20 years out of date.
All of these are simple examples of detail which differentiate one country from another. I could go on for pages about the peculiarities of these institutions. Other examples are things like the postal service, or healthcare. How they impact your characters, like in Kafka's The Castle, will speak to the national psyche. The presence, or lack, or these institutions may also be telling. It is these kinds of touches that can help give depth to your world without requiring a ten page info dump.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
Urban Planning
Yes, I'm talking about designing your world based on historical templates. The concept of urban planning may seem laughable to many of us when we have visited the narrow twisty streets of old European cities, but not all cities evolved in the same manner. The traditional image that many of us have is of a village that evolved into a city over hundreds of years of evolution and accretion. These burgeoning population centers may have started with muddy byways and slowly grown outwards over the surrounding countryside, which little thought to commerce or sanitation, but not all of them did. Just as nations, cities arose in various ways.
Military encampments of the Roman Legion formed a strict grid structure at the heart of many cities thought Europe. Granted, once you get beyond the original boundaries of the Roman camp the purity of the grid tends to break down, but the root structure is there around what generally becomes the center of government. Grid structures were popular in most cities that were built by intention, rather than happenstance, for obvious reasons. These cities are easier to navigate. They make it easier to transport goods, especially with broad diagonal boulevards cutting the grid. It's also easier to quantify and regulate a population in a space that is carefully managed.
Cities designed around governmental or religious buildings may have a radial pattern splaying outward from this central hub. These outer layers serve both as support structures and protection for these central buildings. Successive layers of ring walls may be built as the population expands. Radial patterns are likely to form only part of the city's structure, as they require significantly more precision than the simple grid pattern. Washington DC implemented a radial pattern with a series of circles as a part of a defensive plan for the city.
Topography will often be the defining factor in how a city is laid out (especially if you don't have the technology or manpower to alter it). Hills may encourage a radial pattern. Homes built along a river might give a sinuous curve to their access road. Defensive fortifications will often get the high ground while the commoners fill up the lowlands surrounding. Markets develop along the riverside both because it's easier to transport goods there and because there may be season flooding along the banks. Ground that is too highly sloped or a little rockier might just become the graveyard.
Very few cities have been entirely planned from the outset (though DC and Brasilia are two), so they end up being a mixture of elements. Have you gone to Manhatten and visited The Village after being so sure of yourself in Midtown? Most planned cities grow beyond their original borders in a rather haphazard way. Then again, many old cities have had cataclysmic events (The Great Fire, in London) that made it easy to redraw their maps in a more efficient manner, without evicting massive number of people from their homes and businesses (though not every nation has been averse to that). The simple layout of your city can be a colorful touch which allows you to discuss the history of your world and add significant layers to its character.
http://www.art.net/~hopkins/Don/simcity/manual/history.html
http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/619445/urban-planning
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urban_planning
http://munsonscity.com/tag/radial-grid/
Military encampments of the Roman Legion formed a strict grid structure at the heart of many cities thought Europe. Granted, once you get beyond the original boundaries of the Roman camp the purity of the grid tends to break down, but the root structure is there around what generally becomes the center of government. Grid structures were popular in most cities that were built by intention, rather than happenstance, for obvious reasons. These cities are easier to navigate. They make it easier to transport goods, especially with broad diagonal boulevards cutting the grid. It's also easier to quantify and regulate a population in a space that is carefully managed.
Cities designed around governmental or religious buildings may have a radial pattern splaying outward from this central hub. These outer layers serve both as support structures and protection for these central buildings. Successive layers of ring walls may be built as the population expands. Radial patterns are likely to form only part of the city's structure, as they require significantly more precision than the simple grid pattern. Washington DC implemented a radial pattern with a series of circles as a part of a defensive plan for the city.
Topography will often be the defining factor in how a city is laid out (especially if you don't have the technology or manpower to alter it). Hills may encourage a radial pattern. Homes built along a river might give a sinuous curve to their access road. Defensive fortifications will often get the high ground while the commoners fill up the lowlands surrounding. Markets develop along the riverside both because it's easier to transport goods there and because there may be season flooding along the banks. Ground that is too highly sloped or a little rockier might just become the graveyard.
Very few cities have been entirely planned from the outset (though DC and Brasilia are two), so they end up being a mixture of elements. Have you gone to Manhatten and visited The Village after being so sure of yourself in Midtown? Most planned cities grow beyond their original borders in a rather haphazard way. Then again, many old cities have had cataclysmic events (The Great Fire, in London) that made it easy to redraw their maps in a more efficient manner, without evicting massive number of people from their homes and businesses (though not every nation has been averse to that). The simple layout of your city can be a colorful touch which allows you to discuss the history of your world and add significant layers to its character.
http://www.art.net/~hopkins/Don/simcity/manual/history.html
http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/619445/urban-planning
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urban_planning
http://munsonscity.com/tag/radial-grid/
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Headgear
| http://archive.peruthisweek.com/blogs/travel/476 |
Hats have been employed by almost every culture where people have heads. We use em to keep off the sun and the rain as well. They keep us from getting too cold and serve as handy status symbols (both social and military). Some are used in religious rituals and others provide simple protection from getting thumped. Materials range from straw, to fur, to felt, and beyond. Granted, not every material is suited to every style of hat, but you work with what you've got.Yes, yes, hooded cloaks are very dramatic, but there is so much more to the world of head coverings than that. No, I'm not talking about helmets, though more fantasy characters should be wearing those too (this ain't the movies kids, we can imagine your characters' faces just fine). What I'm talking about is a good old fashioned hat.
Head coverings can provide a shorthand for society and story writer. You know a British police officer when you see his helmet bobbing above the crowd. A man in a tam probably connects himself to a certain history. Similarly, a kepi or a shako has a distinct martial flare. Big furry caps, coming down over the ears, provide an entirely different image. Didn't they used to make college freshmen wear beanies? You get what I'm saying here.
Maybe I'm biased, since I grew up loving hats and wearing them (my grandpop used to work in the Stetson factory and always wore em, so i stole his), but they really should more prevalent in Fantasy. They can be entirely utilitarian or they can grant a touch of flare. Nothing wrong with giving your character an ostentatious plume, but don't neglect to adorn others in your stories with more subdued head coverings. Ladies can get in on this too, even if they're just headscarves or those pointy princess hats. I want to bring em back people. Hats for everyone.
Wiki (pics of various traditional and ethnic styles) - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hat
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Water Clocks
Again, still working underground, the question is, "How do you tell time?" If you're living close to the surface, it could be a simple system of relays to note sunrise, sunset, noon and so on. Mister Salvatore invented a massive pillar lit once per day by a master wizard character, which told the time for all who could see it. In essence, time of day doesn't matter much to those who live underground. It's always feeding time in the dark. However, to make a more advanced society work, you probably need some mutually agreed upon method to measure time so that work shifts can be measured and you can all arrive for meetings more or less simultaneously. Obviously the sundial won't work, so we move on to the water clock.
There are two basic forms of water clock: inflow and outflow. Both depend upon a consistent flow of water. An outflow clock is filled with water, which escapes at a uniform rate, with markings along the side which can be read to tell the passage of time. An inflow clock has a second container (with the markings) that collects that water. A second version of the inflow clock has the inflow bowl floating in water, so that the sinking of the inflow vessel would mark the time. These two simple concepts were a good start, but generally not very accurate (difficult to maintain a constant water pressure) or precise (difficult to make perfect graduations to mark time).
The Greeks and Romans advanced water clock design with mechanical components. Through the use of gearing and escapement mechanisms (when a vessel fills to a certain point it tips, activating a pulley, empties and resets). These were connected to bells, gongs and even automated figures (think cuckoo clocks). These clocks were designed even more elaborately in the Arabian world, involving astronomical/astrological elements (though these are obviously not very interesting for those who live underground). The Chinese, as well, built some incredibly complex mechanisms. It wasn't until the 17th Century that the more accurate pendulum clocks replaced water clocks in Europe.
The implications for a subterranean people are simple. As long as you have a steady supply of water, you can have a water clock. You might not be reading off the gradations on said clock, but you could set up a vertical series of buckets to count the hours of the day. It's possible to set up a more complex mechanization to turn a waterwheel whose rotations mark off the hours. You can design all kinds of bells and whistles to sound in response to the passage of time as well. With a little ingenuity you don't need eyesight to tell time. The real beauty is that you don't even need to worry about seasonality or being in time with the outside world, as long as you are internally consistent.
General - http://www.factmonster.com/ipka/A0855491.html
Wiki - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_clock
The Basics - http://www.ancient-origins.net/ancient-technology/ancient-invention-water-clock-001818
klepsydra - http://www-groups.dcs.st-and.ac.uk/history/HistTopics/Water_clocks.html
 |
| http://romantech.wikispaces.com/A+-+Water+Clock |
There are two basic forms of water clock: inflow and outflow. Both depend upon a consistent flow of water. An outflow clock is filled with water, which escapes at a uniform rate, with markings along the side which can be read to tell the passage of time. An inflow clock has a second container (with the markings) that collects that water. A second version of the inflow clock has the inflow bowl floating in water, so that the sinking of the inflow vessel would mark the time. These two simple concepts were a good start, but generally not very accurate (difficult to maintain a constant water pressure) or precise (difficult to make perfect graduations to mark time).
The Greeks and Romans advanced water clock design with mechanical components. Through the use of gearing and escapement mechanisms (when a vessel fills to a certain point it tips, activating a pulley, empties and resets). These were connected to bells, gongs and even automated figures (think cuckoo clocks). These clocks were designed even more elaborately in the Arabian world, involving astronomical/astrological elements (though these are obviously not very interesting for those who live underground). The Chinese, as well, built some incredibly complex mechanisms. It wasn't until the 17th Century that the more accurate pendulum clocks replaced water clocks in Europe.
The implications for a subterranean people are simple. As long as you have a steady supply of water, you can have a water clock. You might not be reading off the gradations on said clock, but you could set up a vertical series of buckets to count the hours of the day. It's possible to set up a more complex mechanization to turn a waterwheel whose rotations mark off the hours. You can design all kinds of bells and whistles to sound in response to the passage of time as well. With a little ingenuity you don't need eyesight to tell time. The real beauty is that you don't even need to worry about seasonality or being in time with the outside world, as long as you are internally consistent.
General - http://www.factmonster.com/ipka/A0855491.html
Wiki - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Water_clock
The Basics - http://www.ancient-origins.net/ancient-technology/ancient-invention-water-clock-001818
klepsydra - http://www-groups.dcs.st-and.ac.uk/history/HistTopics/Water_clocks.html
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
Growing Mushrooms
I've been trying to work out a subterranean culture. This may be abundantly clear from some of my previous posts. Well, you've got to feed those folks somehow. I'm trying to figure out ways for them to exist without too much interaction with the outside world. What do they eat? Well, I've got a couple somewhat creative ideas on that, but a simple addition to that menu is mushrooms. Damn do I love those things. However, having never grown them, I thought it might be a good idea to see if this is feasible, since all of the mushrooms I know do grow above ground. Well, without further ado...
As might be obvious to everyone out there, growing conditions for mushrooms vary from species to species. One of the joys of this is that I can feel free to invent growing conditions for whatever I want to use and go with it as long as I stick within certain parameters. The essential elements you need to manipulate when growing mushrooms are: growing medium, temperature, and humidity.
Most varieties of mushroom require consistent cool temperatures to fruit. Lack of chlorophyll means that they do not require sunlight for growth, but for heat alone. These temperatures can be mimicked in an underground (or indoor) environment fairly simply with either the simple heat of the planet, or a nearby chimney (dwarven forges are always burning, right?). Other mushrooms require changes in temperature for optimal fruiting. White button mushrooms (the most popular in the world) seem to grow best (when cultivated from spawn) when they have a few weeks of 70 degree temperatures to grow in before being cooled to 55 degree temperatures for fruiting. This would seem to mimic autumnal changes. When you aren't dependent upon the weather, you can produce many seasons of fruiting within the calendar year.
Not all mushrooms like to grow in shit, if you hadn't noticed. Some like to grow on (read: eat) sawdust, straw, or wood. Whether you want to make these other mediums available to your subterranean creatures is up to you. I guess it depends partly on how deep your creations live beneath the surface. The trick is that you need to be careful of competing microorganisms. Your carefully regulated moist cool environment is a perfect breeding ground for all sorts of nastiness. Care to recreate the Potato Famine in your fantasy world? Using multiple mediums in your mushroom production is a simple way to demonstrate that you grow multiple varieties, though requires a certain level of sophistication. However, if you have the wherewithal, why limit your diet?
Mushrooms have all kinds of fun properties that you can use in your stories. We all know how good they are for the eating, providing a good food source for the otherwise nutrient-poor subterranean world. Obviously, you could use "magic" mushrooms either for recreational or religious purposes. One man's meat is another man's poison. Maybe your creatures are like poison dart frogs, using the poisons they ingest for self defense. They are also used for their curative properties in some traditions. They're your mushrooms, do what you want with them. Happy growing.
ps: Remember to harvest your mushrooms with a knife. A good straight cut across the base, above the soil, is the best way to protect the underground structures that'll produce more mushrooms.
http://www.wikihow.com/Grow-Mushrooms-Indoors
http://www.garden.org/ediblelandscaping/?page=december_shroom
http://www.bhg.com/gardening/vegetable/vegetables/how-to-grow-mushrooms/
As might be obvious to everyone out there, growing conditions for mushrooms vary from species to species. One of the joys of this is that I can feel free to invent growing conditions for whatever I want to use and go with it as long as I stick within certain parameters. The essential elements you need to manipulate when growing mushrooms are: growing medium, temperature, and humidity.
Most varieties of mushroom require consistent cool temperatures to fruit. Lack of chlorophyll means that they do not require sunlight for growth, but for heat alone. These temperatures can be mimicked in an underground (or indoor) environment fairly simply with either the simple heat of the planet, or a nearby chimney (dwarven forges are always burning, right?). Other mushrooms require changes in temperature for optimal fruiting. White button mushrooms (the most popular in the world) seem to grow best (when cultivated from spawn) when they have a few weeks of 70 degree temperatures to grow in before being cooled to 55 degree temperatures for fruiting. This would seem to mimic autumnal changes. When you aren't dependent upon the weather, you can produce many seasons of fruiting within the calendar year.
Not all mushrooms like to grow in shit, if you hadn't noticed. Some like to grow on (read: eat) sawdust, straw, or wood. Whether you want to make these other mediums available to your subterranean creatures is up to you. I guess it depends partly on how deep your creations live beneath the surface. The trick is that you need to be careful of competing microorganisms. Your carefully regulated moist cool environment is a perfect breeding ground for all sorts of nastiness. Care to recreate the Potato Famine in your fantasy world? Using multiple mediums in your mushroom production is a simple way to demonstrate that you grow multiple varieties, though requires a certain level of sophistication. However, if you have the wherewithal, why limit your diet?
Mushrooms have all kinds of fun properties that you can use in your stories. We all know how good they are for the eating, providing a good food source for the otherwise nutrient-poor subterranean world. Obviously, you could use "magic" mushrooms either for recreational or religious purposes. One man's meat is another man's poison. Maybe your creatures are like poison dart frogs, using the poisons they ingest for self defense. They are also used for their curative properties in some traditions. They're your mushrooms, do what you want with them. Happy growing.
ps: Remember to harvest your mushrooms with a knife. A good straight cut across the base, above the soil, is the best way to protect the underground structures that'll produce more mushrooms.
http://www.wikihow.com/Grow-Mushrooms-Indoors
http://www.garden.org/ediblelandscaping/?page=december_shroom
http://www.bhg.com/gardening/vegetable/vegetables/how-to-grow-mushrooms/
Friday, October 24, 2014
Is My Sky Blue?
So, part of the fun in creating a Fantasy world is that you can essentially do whatever the fuck you want. Of course this comes with the eternal caveat of maintaining consistency (well, unless you really want to make your readers angry). The other part of the reason for changing things is to remind your readers that the world they are immersing themselves in is not the real world, so they can relax and not worry about the ideas you are exploring that might otherwise be troubling to them (I covered that last idea in the post "Why I Love Fantasy").
There are loads of ways in which you can alter the world to shake up your reader. Multiple moons are a dead giveaway to any space-traveler awakening on a new world. James Cameron's "Avatar" gave us islands floating in the air (not to be confused with Dr. Dolittle's island that floats on water). Jack Vance's "Dying Earth" series features a sickly looking star, providing illumination to his ancient cultures. In Steven Brust's "Dragaera" series, you can't even see the sky through the net of sorcery over a portion of the world. All of these ideas have a similar "We're not in Kansas anymore" effect.
When selecting something to tweak in your world, addition is always easier than subtraction. In the words of Malcolm Reynolds, "You can't miss someplace you never been." Including a new and strange feature is an obvious something. You encounter it. You can describe it when your characters see it for the first time. Removing something from the world is much more difficult. If your characters have only ever lived on Arakis, they can't really miss sailing the ocean. Additionally, there may be significant pieces of culture and language that change (they'd never be "three sheets to the wind," even if they were) with something's absence. Before you take something away from your world it's important to take the time to work out the ramifications.
Setting off this thought was a post I read the other day (see below) about why the sky is blue (no, it's not the reflection of sun off the ocean). It additionally addressed the question as to why the sun is yellow. This all brought me back to the image of the guttering Sun of Vance's "Dying Earth" (I need to go back and reread them to see how he used it, also because they're great). The changing of the Sun leads to interesting questions for the writer. How would this lower energy Sun effect the environment? If the sun itself is red, would that then alter the color of the sky? What would it do to the appearance of other colors? When you start messing with something so essential, it can have significant implications.
This inspired today - http://io9.com/the-sky-is-not-blue-so-why-does-it-look-blue-1649379309/all
There are loads of ways in which you can alter the world to shake up your reader. Multiple moons are a dead giveaway to any space-traveler awakening on a new world. James Cameron's "Avatar" gave us islands floating in the air (not to be confused with Dr. Dolittle's island that floats on water). Jack Vance's "Dying Earth" series features a sickly looking star, providing illumination to his ancient cultures. In Steven Brust's "Dragaera" series, you can't even see the sky through the net of sorcery over a portion of the world. All of these ideas have a similar "We're not in Kansas anymore" effect.
When selecting something to tweak in your world, addition is always easier than subtraction. In the words of Malcolm Reynolds, "You can't miss someplace you never been." Including a new and strange feature is an obvious something. You encounter it. You can describe it when your characters see it for the first time. Removing something from the world is much more difficult. If your characters have only ever lived on Arakis, they can't really miss sailing the ocean. Additionally, there may be significant pieces of culture and language that change (they'd never be "three sheets to the wind," even if they were) with something's absence. Before you take something away from your world it's important to take the time to work out the ramifications.
Setting off this thought was a post I read the other day (see below) about why the sky is blue (no, it's not the reflection of sun off the ocean). It additionally addressed the question as to why the sun is yellow. This all brought me back to the image of the guttering Sun of Vance's "Dying Earth" (I need to go back and reread them to see how he used it, also because they're great). The changing of the Sun leads to interesting questions for the writer. How would this lower energy Sun effect the environment? If the sun itself is red, would that then alter the color of the sky? What would it do to the appearance of other colors? When you start messing with something so essential, it can have significant implications.
This inspired today - http://io9.com/the-sky-is-not-blue-so-why-does-it-look-blue-1649379309/all
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Hospitals
Ah, another post inspired by a visit to the Franklin Institute, but more specifically by the man himself. One of his many accomplishments was cofounding Pennsylvania Hospital (1751), the first chartered hospital in what would become the United States (Cortez founded one in Mexico, in 1524. Canada got one in 1639). Philadelphia was established by William Penn in 1682. Ben's old hometown of Boston (estd 1630) didn't get their first hospital until 1811. To be fair, between 1700 and 1790, Boston merely doubled in size (to 18,000), while Philly grew by a factor of ten (to 42,000). These young cities were just finding their feet and trying to meet the needs of their burgeoning population, but hospitals seem like a no-brainer. People get sick, hurt. They need care. So, recognizing that the presence of hospitals was not as ubiquitous as I'd once imagined, I thought it best to do some digging.
The word 'hospital' derives from the Latin root hospes, or guest. A hospital, in its original use, is a guest-house. Hospitals in the medieval world might be multipurpose or serve one specific group: the sick, foundlings, orphans, the poor who were unable to work, the old, and poor or infirm pilgrims. All of these early institutions in Europe were staffed and organized by the Church (Catholic and Eastern Orthodox), with care provided by monks and nuns. Some of these institutions were connected to monasteries, but others were established independently and endowed with lands to support their operations (such donations were generally thought by rich Christians at the time to be 'get out of hell free' cards).
The general recognition of the importance of these institutions is clear, thanks to Charlemagne. During his reign, he decreed that all hospitals which had fallen into disrepair should be restored, and that there should be a hospital attached to each cathedral and monastery. It isn't until the 14th Century that the secular government directly supports any of these institutions (and only when forced to, since the protestants didn't believe you could buy your way into heaven, and later the king dissolved all the monasteries of England). In these institutions, all services were free to the poor (no self-respecting noble would go to one). The workers not only provided 24-hour care, but went into the community to seek out those in need. Financial support came not only from amongst the faithful, but from the clergy themselves, who were often required to give a portion of their incomes. Others took it upon themselves to donate food, wood, or other goods to support the hospitals.
It is the duty of housing and protecting pilgrims that allowed the evolution of some of these philanthropic Christian organizations into military orders. The Teutonic Order evolved under the walls of Acre. The Hospitallars were founded in Jerusalem, as were the Templars. The initial aim of these orders was to protect pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land, but we all know how that worked out. Like the Church itself, these organizations were richly endowed by the nobility. Individual members, being bound by vows of poverty (like all monks), couldn't do much with the donated wealth, so it fell to the control of the leadership. The military and financial power wielded by these organizations changed the face of European politics.
As trade increased and the medieval world began to open up again, hospitals began to be established in the revitalized cities (which had been on the decline since the Romans left). These new hospitals gave the best care they could afford, and were often established near running water or in close proximity to the poorer neighborhoods. It was not uncommon for them to be located outside of the city wall, so those suffering from illness could get away from 'evil vapors' and also decrease the risk of passing contagions along to others. Many of these hospitals accepted only small numbers of patients (7-25), but the Grand Hospital of Milan (opened 1445) often cared for 2,000 patients at a time. Multiple hospitals might be founded in a given city (Cologne had 16).
The Church in general has a pretty nasty reputation in the Medieval period, and for good reason, but it's important to remember that it did some good work as well. Certainly there were improprieties connected to some hospitals, they did fleece the rich to support themselves, plus that whole warrior/monk thing, but hospitals did provide valuable services to those in need, that we today view as essential. They took care of the orphans and the foundlings. They healed the sick. They protected people upon the road. While they certainly did not embody the entirety of the Christian ethos, they did plenty more for the common person than any other political organization of e day was willing to. The interesting question is, in your fantasy world, what group do you have that believes in mercy? Who will wash the feet of the unclean? What happens to the lepers?
Wiki - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_hospitals
Catholic Encyclopedia - http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/07480a.htm
Population data - http://wps.ablongman.com/wps/media/objects/244/250688/Appendix/12.pdf
The word 'hospital' derives from the Latin root hospes, or guest. A hospital, in its original use, is a guest-house. Hospitals in the medieval world might be multipurpose or serve one specific group: the sick, foundlings, orphans, the poor who were unable to work, the old, and poor or infirm pilgrims. All of these early institutions in Europe were staffed and organized by the Church (Catholic and Eastern Orthodox), with care provided by monks and nuns. Some of these institutions were connected to monasteries, but others were established independently and endowed with lands to support their operations (such donations were generally thought by rich Christians at the time to be 'get out of hell free' cards).
The general recognition of the importance of these institutions is clear, thanks to Charlemagne. During his reign, he decreed that all hospitals which had fallen into disrepair should be restored, and that there should be a hospital attached to each cathedral and monastery. It isn't until the 14th Century that the secular government directly supports any of these institutions (and only when forced to, since the protestants didn't believe you could buy your way into heaven, and later the king dissolved all the monasteries of England). In these institutions, all services were free to the poor (no self-respecting noble would go to one). The workers not only provided 24-hour care, but went into the community to seek out those in need. Financial support came not only from amongst the faithful, but from the clergy themselves, who were often required to give a portion of their incomes. Others took it upon themselves to donate food, wood, or other goods to support the hospitals.
It is the duty of housing and protecting pilgrims that allowed the evolution of some of these philanthropic Christian organizations into military orders. The Teutonic Order evolved under the walls of Acre. The Hospitallars were founded in Jerusalem, as were the Templars. The initial aim of these orders was to protect pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land, but we all know how that worked out. Like the Church itself, these organizations were richly endowed by the nobility. Individual members, being bound by vows of poverty (like all monks), couldn't do much with the donated wealth, so it fell to the control of the leadership. The military and financial power wielded by these organizations changed the face of European politics.
As trade increased and the medieval world began to open up again, hospitals began to be established in the revitalized cities (which had been on the decline since the Romans left). These new hospitals gave the best care they could afford, and were often established near running water or in close proximity to the poorer neighborhoods. It was not uncommon for them to be located outside of the city wall, so those suffering from illness could get away from 'evil vapors' and also decrease the risk of passing contagions along to others. Many of these hospitals accepted only small numbers of patients (7-25), but the Grand Hospital of Milan (opened 1445) often cared for 2,000 patients at a time. Multiple hospitals might be founded in a given city (Cologne had 16).
The Church in general has a pretty nasty reputation in the Medieval period, and for good reason, but it's important to remember that it did some good work as well. Certainly there were improprieties connected to some hospitals, they did fleece the rich to support themselves, plus that whole warrior/monk thing, but hospitals did provide valuable services to those in need, that we today view as essential. They took care of the orphans and the foundlings. They healed the sick. They protected people upon the road. While they certainly did not embody the entirety of the Christian ethos, they did plenty more for the common person than any other political organization of e day was willing to. The interesting question is, in your fantasy world, what group do you have that believes in mercy? Who will wash the feet of the unclean? What happens to the lepers?
Wiki - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_hospitals
Catholic Encyclopedia - http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/07480a.htm
Population data - http://wps.ablongman.com/wps/media/objects/244/250688/Appendix/12.pdf
Thursday, October 16, 2014
A Quick Thank You
I knew it was coming up, but looking back to my original post, it seems that tomorrow is the one year anniversary of this very blog. I'm honestly astonished that I've kept at it so long, and with relative consistency. When I started, I told myself that this would be a place I could unpack my brain a bit, keep all of my research in one place (well, some of it at least), and keep filling up blank spaces on a computer screen to constantly work on finding my voice and improving my writing (not sure if that last bit has happened, but you gotta have goals).
Along the way I found that one of the joys of blogging come from being discovered by someone new. My audience is small enough that I can usually tell from the statistics when someone new finds my work (my assumption is that it is they who delve into my back catalogue). I treasure my regular readers, but you can't tell who reads a whole post, or takes their time mulling over my musings. Each hit could simply be someone clicking over by mistake... What? My self image is fine.
Currently, I'm ramping up to start work on my next novel. I know, I know, you all want to know where you can send money to get the first one. Patience, my lovelies. We all must have patience. I'm told by myriad reputable sources that many early attempts either take time to be recognized, or may remain locked in a trunk for eternity. My creative aspect doesn't really care, I'll just keep writing, so I'll have a bunch ready for publication whenever I'm discovered (see? I told you my self image was fine). The point is, I should have loads of new fodder for posting starting to flow very soon, but I would still like to know what you, my audience, is interested in. Do you like History? Science? Musings on the industry? Perhaps you'd like updates on my Ultimate Frisbee pickup sessions. While this is my space to work in, I'd like you to feel at home here too.
You know, it's funny, I set out to create this blog on the advice of other writers, to get my name out into the world, but then set out to routinely undercut this end. I only ever posted about it once on FB. I tell my friends about it sometimes, but only send them links to it when they specifically ask. What I'm trying to say is that it's a small miracle that I've achieved having even ten visitors a day for the past year, but I really want to thank those of you who take the time out of your day to read my thoughts. You don't know how much your support means to me.
Now go out there and tell all of your friends. ; ).
Along the way I found that one of the joys of blogging come from being discovered by someone new. My audience is small enough that I can usually tell from the statistics when someone new finds my work (my assumption is that it is they who delve into my back catalogue). I treasure my regular readers, but you can't tell who reads a whole post, or takes their time mulling over my musings. Each hit could simply be someone clicking over by mistake... What? My self image is fine.
Currently, I'm ramping up to start work on my next novel. I know, I know, you all want to know where you can send money to get the first one. Patience, my lovelies. We all must have patience. I'm told by myriad reputable sources that many early attempts either take time to be recognized, or may remain locked in a trunk for eternity. My creative aspect doesn't really care, I'll just keep writing, so I'll have a bunch ready for publication whenever I'm discovered (see? I told you my self image was fine). The point is, I should have loads of new fodder for posting starting to flow very soon, but I would still like to know what you, my audience, is interested in. Do you like History? Science? Musings on the industry? Perhaps you'd like updates on my Ultimate Frisbee pickup sessions. While this is my space to work in, I'd like you to feel at home here too.
You know, it's funny, I set out to create this blog on the advice of other writers, to get my name out into the world, but then set out to routinely undercut this end. I only ever posted about it once on FB. I tell my friends about it sometimes, but only send them links to it when they specifically ask. What I'm trying to say is that it's a small miracle that I've achieved having even ten visitors a day for the past year, but I really want to thank those of you who take the time out of your day to read my thoughts. You don't know how much your support means to me.
Now go out there and tell all of your friends. ; ).
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Intelligent Design
No, this isn't an article about Creation versus Evolution, but about drawing inspiration from the world around you to help build your world. You can believe what you will about how these things came about, but learning about how various species cope with their natural environment is an endless source of wonder. Yesterday I went to the Franklin Institute with my nieces and nephew, and got a quick reminder of that fact.
I've spent some time in my "creature culture" and "subterranean creatures" posts talking about how to design working non-human denizens for your world. Most of this discussion has been focused on intelligent (and potentially hostile) organisms. Being in a Fantasy world, it's a luxury to have someone able to "speak for the trees" or be a simple metaphor for accepting the "other." However, it is entirely unnecessary (and rather cumbersome) to have this true of every species you design. Humans have had relationships with our fellow creatures since time immemorial, and we didn't always have to have conversations with them. Working animals, foodstuffs, pack animals, and best friends can be designed too.
Beasts of burden are an incredible resource for a culture. Obviously, they can aid us it traveling great distances or carrying heavy loads. We hook them to plows and fertilize those same fields with their droppings. They change the way we fight wars by being ridden, pulling chariots, or dragging cannons and baggage trains. They are a power supply when there is no moving water around. Their byproducts become an essential part of our way of life. Finally, they are a food source when all other options have run out (or they pass on). Any culture that can harness the energy of these great beasts has a significant leg up on the competition. To create one of your own, it is a simple matter of taking the most useful elements of some of these creatures and applying them to a new shape (similarly, it's a good idea to look at large creatures we haven't domesticated and dwell on why not).
Horses have been quickly incorporated into every culture to which they have been introduced (see: Native Americans). Their mixture of speed and endurance makes them suitable for most any laborious task. Hooves allow them to traverse surfaces that would be difficult for creatures with paws or bare feet (though they should be shod). Food can at times be shared with humans, but they forage well, allowing for easier travel over great distances. Their ears are incredibly mobile, improving their hearing and shooing away insects. Tails and manes were used throughout history for decorative crests (and bows for instruments, no?). Often we breed horses to be more suitable for one task or another, like any domesticated species, but even a racing horse would be better at pulling a cart than a human.
Camels are an excellent example of a creature suited to its terrain. Those odd humps of theirs actually store fat, allowing them to survive for long periods without eating (and not insulating them, which would cause them to overheat). They are so water efficient that their dung comes out dry enough to burn, which is good on those freezing desert nights. A third eyelid helps clear any grit that might get on the old eyeballs. Hooves (being a pretty standard feature for beasts of burden) make sure no tender toes are touching the sand. Additionally, they have a thick layer of tissue over the sternum, called the pedestal, which keeps the bulk of the buddy off of the sand while at rest. Their coats reflect the sun as an additional cooling measure. Yeah, these things are pretty amazing, and that's just what's on the surface.
Oxen (feel free to include water buffaloes here) are another beautiful and useful beast of burden. These are adult male (generally) cattle that have been castrated. While not as agile as the horse, they certainly make up the difference in power. They are also felt to be more even of temper than horses, so easier to handle. While they have cloven hooves, working oxen are often shod to protect their hooves against damage. Usually these animals are worked in teams to haul freight, but could be utilized to draw water or break sod with their steady pace. In some areas, after a few years of work, oxen were sold off for their meat, helping to defray the cost of a new team. As we have discussed in other posts, the horns, skins, and hooves of these animals were all widely used materials. Unfortunately, cows do require lots of room and feed to be kept properly. Consequently, beef cattle was not an efficient use of space for the medieval man.
Before the invention of the internal combustion engine, the beast of burden was the backbone of human progress. Not only did they help us to break sod, and to collect the harvest, but also get our goods to market. They were essential to trade over forest track or desert wasteland. However, not all large animals are suited to these tasks. Good luck training a big cat, or keeping it fed. A small dinosaur might be lethargic in the morning (though I seem to remember the whole cold-blooded thing being in question), and a desert variety might be nocturnal. Those banthas, with the long dragging coats, also seem like a bad idea. Do a little research, take a closer look, and have a little fun designing your own helpers.
Time for me to get back to it as well. Thanks for visiting.
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ox
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel
I've spent some time in my "creature culture" and "subterranean creatures" posts talking about how to design working non-human denizens for your world. Most of this discussion has been focused on intelligent (and potentially hostile) organisms. Being in a Fantasy world, it's a luxury to have someone able to "speak for the trees" or be a simple metaphor for accepting the "other." However, it is entirely unnecessary (and rather cumbersome) to have this true of every species you design. Humans have had relationships with our fellow creatures since time immemorial, and we didn't always have to have conversations with them. Working animals, foodstuffs, pack animals, and best friends can be designed too.
Beasts of burden are an incredible resource for a culture. Obviously, they can aid us it traveling great distances or carrying heavy loads. We hook them to plows and fertilize those same fields with their droppings. They change the way we fight wars by being ridden, pulling chariots, or dragging cannons and baggage trains. They are a power supply when there is no moving water around. Their byproducts become an essential part of our way of life. Finally, they are a food source when all other options have run out (or they pass on). Any culture that can harness the energy of these great beasts has a significant leg up on the competition. To create one of your own, it is a simple matter of taking the most useful elements of some of these creatures and applying them to a new shape (similarly, it's a good idea to look at large creatures we haven't domesticated and dwell on why not).
Horses have been quickly incorporated into every culture to which they have been introduced (see: Native Americans). Their mixture of speed and endurance makes them suitable for most any laborious task. Hooves allow them to traverse surfaces that would be difficult for creatures with paws or bare feet (though they should be shod). Food can at times be shared with humans, but they forage well, allowing for easier travel over great distances. Their ears are incredibly mobile, improving their hearing and shooing away insects. Tails and manes were used throughout history for decorative crests (and bows for instruments, no?). Often we breed horses to be more suitable for one task or another, like any domesticated species, but even a racing horse would be better at pulling a cart than a human.
Camels are an excellent example of a creature suited to its terrain. Those odd humps of theirs actually store fat, allowing them to survive for long periods without eating (and not insulating them, which would cause them to overheat). They are so water efficient that their dung comes out dry enough to burn, which is good on those freezing desert nights. A third eyelid helps clear any grit that might get on the old eyeballs. Hooves (being a pretty standard feature for beasts of burden) make sure no tender toes are touching the sand. Additionally, they have a thick layer of tissue over the sternum, called the pedestal, which keeps the bulk of the buddy off of the sand while at rest. Their coats reflect the sun as an additional cooling measure. Yeah, these things are pretty amazing, and that's just what's on the surface.
Oxen (feel free to include water buffaloes here) are another beautiful and useful beast of burden. These are adult male (generally) cattle that have been castrated. While not as agile as the horse, they certainly make up the difference in power. They are also felt to be more even of temper than horses, so easier to handle. While they have cloven hooves, working oxen are often shod to protect their hooves against damage. Usually these animals are worked in teams to haul freight, but could be utilized to draw water or break sod with their steady pace. In some areas, after a few years of work, oxen were sold off for their meat, helping to defray the cost of a new team. As we have discussed in other posts, the horns, skins, and hooves of these animals were all widely used materials. Unfortunately, cows do require lots of room and feed to be kept properly. Consequently, beef cattle was not an efficient use of space for the medieval man.
Before the invention of the internal combustion engine, the beast of burden was the backbone of human progress. Not only did they help us to break sod, and to collect the harvest, but also get our goods to market. They were essential to trade over forest track or desert wasteland. However, not all large animals are suited to these tasks. Good luck training a big cat, or keeping it fed. A small dinosaur might be lethargic in the morning (though I seem to remember the whole cold-blooded thing being in question), and a desert variety might be nocturnal. Those banthas, with the long dragging coats, also seem like a bad idea. Do a little research, take a closer look, and have a little fun designing your own helpers.
Time for me to get back to it as well. Thanks for visiting.
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ox
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camel
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Vinegar
It's not always easy to come up with new ideas to do research on, since some of the time I'm editing, or on some
kind of writers' block hiatus. One thing I can always come back to is food. Hell, there are so many culinary
creations out there; I'll never run out. Not that I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel here (I'm getting back into the
creative part now), but sometimes I know what I'm talking about and don't need to do as much research. Crazy, I
know. So, anyway, sometimes when I'm at a loss for a topic I just take a look in the kitchen cabinet.
Vinegar has been a part of various traditions across the planet for about as long as we've been recording history.
It consists primarily of acetic acid and vinegar. The acetic acid is produced by the fermentation of ethanol (like
when you leave your wine open) by certain bacteria. It all works off of the sugars, once they figured out how to
ferment it, they could then make vinegar from it (date wine, brandy, sake, etc). However, vinegar is much more
than that. It's used to clean and disinfect. It was employed as a medicine and a cooling agent. Oh yeah, we
make pickles with the stuff too.
Good vinegar takes time. Traditional balsamic sold today is aged for 12 to 25 years before it's ready for sale.
Granted, most of the stuff on shelves today is not that. Vinegar used to be aged in barrels or crocks for three
or four years in a cool dark place. Sealed bottles can be stored indefinitely, though exposure to light can change
the flavor. Even though they'd been at it for thousands of years, the quality of the product was not reliable until
the development of the Orleans Method, which used vinegar starter from a previous desirable batch (called mother),
to add to the diluted wine or beer, and aged for the first few months with access to the open air (well, screened).
Like many industries, methods of production were closely guarded secrets throughout the Medieval period. Apart
from the basic recipes, herb can be infused in the mix to create an almost infinite variety of flavors.
Medicinal applications for this stuff are legion. That's not to say that it works, but it's been used to these ends.
Samurai used it for a strength tonic. Caesar's army drank Posca to prevent something or other, or maybe just as
a digestive. It was used to clean wounds and prevent infection. Four Thieves Vinegar was thought to prevent
contraction of the Plague (some housebreakers who robbed the infected were pardoned in return for giving up the
recipe). If it didn't actually prevent the plague, its vapors, dispensed from a small sponge in a small metal "vinegar"
covered the foul odors. Still today, there are those who advocate for using it as a medicine for extending life and other more specific (though again, unverified) applications.
Vinegar also makes a lovely cleaning product. My old landlord in Czech always sang the praises of "a little
acid" (no I didn't look in the basement). Medieval soldiers may have used it in conjunction with sand to clean their
mail. Louis XIII apparently use it to cool his cannons and keep them rust-free. There is the old story about
Cleopatra winning a bet by using vinegar to dissolve a pearl. If it can do that to a pearl, imagine what it can do
stains! Apparently it works on leather too. Just be careful to rinse well when you're done, so the acid doesn't
work too well.
If you just want to eat the stuff, you can do that too. Some times it's a simple condiment (malt vinegar on
your chips) or salad dressing. It's also used in making some chutneys and a variety of marinades (which helps
kill some of those wee beasties). Vinegar is a principle ingredient in Philippine cuisine and is an essential element
of sushi rice (which we all know is the most important element of good sushi). Of course, it's also used in some
pickling processes, especially in conjunction with salt. Damn that stuff is useful.
Not all vinegar is good for all of these applications, of course. Balsamic vinegar would be terrible to use for
removing stains or cleaning your cannons, just like plain white vinegar wouldn't be the best thing to put on your
salad. It seems that as long as we've been making booze, we've been leaving some to turn to vinegar. Got to do
something with that stuff. Happily it can be extremely useful. Now, I wouldn't suggest that you try to make this
stuff at home, though I guess we've done all the boutique booze styles already, so this could be the next logical
step. Ooooh look, I'm putting you ahead of the curve. Just remember, don't try to make this stuff in your bathtub,
or you'll find yourself short of porcelain.
All around article - http://www.thenibble.com/reviews/main/oils/vinegar-101.asp
Vinegar producer - http://www.moutarde-de-meaux.com/en/histo-origine-vinaigre.php
Wiki - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vinegar
good compilation - http://hilobrow.com/2011/01/11/de-condimentis-5-vinegar/
general - http://humantouchofchemistry.com/know-how-vinegar-came-into-existence.htm
general - http://www.enzyme-facts.com/vinegar-history.html
traditional balsamic - http://theplanetd.com/traditional-balsamic-vinegar-150-years-of-passion/
uses around the house - http://www.versatilevinegar.org/usesandtips.html
kind of writers' block hiatus. One thing I can always come back to is food. Hell, there are so many culinary
creations out there; I'll never run out. Not that I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel here (I'm getting back into the
creative part now), but sometimes I know what I'm talking about and don't need to do as much research. Crazy, I
know. So, anyway, sometimes when I'm at a loss for a topic I just take a look in the kitchen cabinet.
 |
| http://hilobrow.com/2011/01/11/de-condimentis-5-vinegar/ |
Vinegar has been a part of various traditions across the planet for about as long as we've been recording history.
It consists primarily of acetic acid and vinegar. The acetic acid is produced by the fermentation of ethanol (like
when you leave your wine open) by certain bacteria. It all works off of the sugars, once they figured out how to
ferment it, they could then make vinegar from it (date wine, brandy, sake, etc). However, vinegar is much more
than that. It's used to clean and disinfect. It was employed as a medicine and a cooling agent. Oh yeah, we
make pickles with the stuff too.
Good vinegar takes time. Traditional balsamic sold today is aged for 12 to 25 years before it's ready for sale.
Granted, most of the stuff on shelves today is not that. Vinegar used to be aged in barrels or crocks for three
or four years in a cool dark place. Sealed bottles can be stored indefinitely, though exposure to light can change
the flavor. Even though they'd been at it for thousands of years, the quality of the product was not reliable until
the development of the Orleans Method, which used vinegar starter from a previous desirable batch (called mother),
to add to the diluted wine or beer, and aged for the first few months with access to the open air (well, screened).
Like many industries, methods of production were closely guarded secrets throughout the Medieval period. Apart
from the basic recipes, herb can be infused in the mix to create an almost infinite variety of flavors.
Medicinal applications for this stuff are legion. That's not to say that it works, but it's been used to these ends.
Samurai used it for a strength tonic. Caesar's army drank Posca to prevent something or other, or maybe just as
a digestive. It was used to clean wounds and prevent infection. Four Thieves Vinegar was thought to prevent
contraction of the Plague (some housebreakers who robbed the infected were pardoned in return for giving up the
recipe). If it didn't actually prevent the plague, its vapors, dispensed from a small sponge in a small metal "vinegar"
covered the foul odors. Still today, there are those who advocate for using it as a medicine for extending life and other more specific (though again, unverified) applications.
Vinegar also makes a lovely cleaning product. My old landlord in Czech always sang the praises of "a little
acid" (no I didn't look in the basement). Medieval soldiers may have used it in conjunction with sand to clean their
mail. Louis XIII apparently use it to cool his cannons and keep them rust-free. There is the old story about
Cleopatra winning a bet by using vinegar to dissolve a pearl. If it can do that to a pearl, imagine what it can do
stains! Apparently it works on leather too. Just be careful to rinse well when you're done, so the acid doesn't
work too well.
If you just want to eat the stuff, you can do that too. Some times it's a simple condiment (malt vinegar on
your chips) or salad dressing. It's also used in making some chutneys and a variety of marinades (which helps
kill some of those wee beasties). Vinegar is a principle ingredient in Philippine cuisine and is an essential element
of sushi rice (which we all know is the most important element of good sushi). Of course, it's also used in some
pickling processes, especially in conjunction with salt. Damn that stuff is useful.
Not all vinegar is good for all of these applications, of course. Balsamic vinegar would be terrible to use for
removing stains or cleaning your cannons, just like plain white vinegar wouldn't be the best thing to put on your
salad. It seems that as long as we've been making booze, we've been leaving some to turn to vinegar. Got to do
something with that stuff. Happily it can be extremely useful. Now, I wouldn't suggest that you try to make this
stuff at home, though I guess we've done all the boutique booze styles already, so this could be the next logical
step. Ooooh look, I'm putting you ahead of the curve. Just remember, don't try to make this stuff in your bathtub,
or you'll find yourself short of porcelain.
All around article - http://www.thenibble.com/reviews/main/oils/vinegar-101.asp
Vinegar producer - http://www.moutarde-de-meaux.com/en/histo-origine-vinaigre.php
Wiki - http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vinegar
good compilation - http://hilobrow.com/2011/01/11/de-condimentis-5-vinegar/
general - http://humantouchofchemistry.com/know-how-vinegar-came-into-existence.htm
general - http://www.enzyme-facts.com/vinegar-history.html
traditional balsamic - http://theplanetd.com/traditional-balsamic-vinegar-150-years-of-passion/
uses around the house - http://www.versatilevinegar.org/usesandtips.html
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