Random Destinations

In my last post I mentioned an old fractal algorithm for making randomized world maps for hypothetical planets.  I probably have some old printouts somewhere, but I remembered enough to reconstruct it and give it a whirl.  Here's an example...

Click for bigger version

Somebody who knows a thing or two about plate tectonics will surely see nothing at all realistic here, but it's pretty cool for about a half hour's work.  If anyone would like more details, I can easily send you a code written in IDL that will create as many random maps as you'd like.  (Creating the color image is a separate step; I could automate that in IDL too, but to make the above I just screen-captured it and played with the color table in xv.)

Seeing maps like this make me a bit wistful for the random "New Worlds" (i.e., alternate North & South Americas) generated by the old video game Seven Cities of Gold.  Ah, the Commodore 64...

Billyuns and Billyuns

I was originally planning to do my Obscure RPG Appreciation Day (May 30) post about a quirky sci-fi game called Starfaring.  I've since switched to another topic, but I did want to talk a little bit about this one, too.  This quirky game of seat-of-the-pants interstellar exploration was written by Ken St. Andre and published in 1976.  Not only did this game precede nearly all other sci-fi RPGs, it was also released into the wild a full year before the coming explosion of space opera to be ushered in by some bearded dude from the Central Valley.

Starfaring has already been very ably reviewed by Grognardia, and the offbeat (very un-PC, slightly NSFW) charm of its no-budget illustration style was conveyed further by Jeff Rients.  Since I've never played the game, I didn't think I could add much to what's already been said out there about its rules or its jokey aesthetic.  Even though its sci-fi setting is highly evocative of Star Trek, I think it also presages a bit of the sci-fact wonder that this guy managed to communicate...

...just a few years after 1976.

For me, one of the most fun parts of Starfaring is its extensive tabular system for the Game Master (um, "Galaxy Master") to randomly create interesting solar systems for the players to explore.  In the latter part of the 1980s, this was something I was trying to do myself, with the seemingly infinite tools afforded to me by a spiffy 128K Mac.  In my first forays online, I also found something called the Universe Simulation Mailing List (USML) in which people exchanged ideas and programs to do similar things.

One thing that I never really thought much about was what I would do with the simulated stars, planets, and alien races, once I had created them!  A copy of Starfaring would have done me good at that time, whether or not I would've been able to convince my friends to sit down and play a game or two.  As it was, I didn't really finish constructing any elaborate alien realms, but I can still remember a lot about my fractal algorithm for making random world maps.  Maybe I'll have to try to code it up with the, ahem, slightly more powerful tools that are available today.

Another fascinating thing about both Starfaring and USML was that their creators were working with the certain knowledge of only 9 planets.  Today, astronomers know about more than 800 planets (and those are for sure, with more than 3000 other "candidates" awaiting firmer confirmation) circling hundreds of different stars.  There are some that may be very similar to our Earth, but there are many other weird types that sci-fi authors never dreamed possible.  Here's an animation of the orbits of just a few hundred of them.

And yes, there are some like this, too.

Prediction time:  In my lifetime (I'm in my mid-40s now, FYI) I'm saying there will be convincing data from an extrasolar planet that indicates that some kind of life exists on it.  Probably a combination of pure molecular oxygen (O2) in the atmosphere, liquid water covering much of its surface, and a signature of chlorophyll or some other photosynthetic molecule covering the rest of it.  Of course, the best bet about the details is that it'll really be something that nobody has yet imagined!  All of this is just beyond the reach of current telescopes, but a lot can be done in a few measly decades.  :-)

May activities

After the whirlwind month of April, I hope that my posting to the blog won't take too much of a nose-dive.  Other arenas of life are demanding their fair share of time, too...  To keep things lively, there are two community activities that I'm planning to do at the end of this month:

(1) Cephalopod Coffeehouse

The esteemed Armchair Squid is hosting an online book club, in which each participant can choose their own favorite book (which was read during the current month) and post a review of it on the last day of the month.  I just started reading the new book by Douglas Hofstadter and Emmanuel Sander, Surfaces and Essences: Analogy as the Fuel and Fire of Thinking.  It's kind of a beast, though -- 592 pages chock full of philosophy and linguistics.  I hope to have it finished by the end of the month!  It looks fantastic, and it may end up being useful "glass bead game research" for me, too.

(2) Obscure RPG Appreciation Day

Hosted by the enigmatic Catacomb Librarian, this old-school role-playing game celebration aims to shine a light on the lesser-known, and hopefully not yet completely forgotten, games that often don't get their due in the shadow of their more famous older brother, Dungeons & Dragons.

The aim is to post a review (or rant, or some other related material) about a fantasy-themed RPG published between 1975 and 1989, on May 30.  That's just one day prior to Squid's book club deadline, so I hope to have this one 'in the can' a bit sooner than that.  I've identified my game, but won't be revealing its identity until the day of the post.  :-)

Z is for Zindell, David

"Long before we knew that the price of the wisdom and immortality we sought would be almost beyond our means to pay, when man -- what was left of man -- was still like a child playing with pebbles and shells by the seashore, in the time of the quest for the mystery known as the Elder Eddas, I heard the call of the stars and prepared to leave the city of my birth and death."

Thus begins David Zindell's 1988 novel Neverness, which is tied for first place with just one other book (*) as my favorite novel of all time.  So favorite, in fact, that I wrote an online FAQ-type document called A Travel Guide to Neverness about the unique sci-fi setting and culture that Zindell created.

Zindell spent the late 1980s and most of the 1990s on the tales of Neverness -- comprising one short story and four novels -- then moved on to write another series of novels in the fantasy genre (which I haven't yet read).  I have massive respect for Zindell as a teacher, too.  It's rare to find someone who writes so dreamily and philosophically who also has his feet grounded in the hard practical work of getting kids ready for adulthood.

"Neverness" itself is a city on an island (also called Neverness) on a cold planet named Icefall. Human beings came to Icefall thousands of years before the events of Zindell's stories, which take place at least 20,000 years in our future. Neverness is special because it is the home to the Order of Mystic Mathematicians and Other Seekers of the Ineffable Flame. This is a high-minded organization with the goal of discovering the secrets of the universe and the meaning of life.

Much of the intrigue of the Neverness stories involves the different professions of the Order, whose adherents go about Seeking that Ineffable Flame in different ways. We readers get to know the black-robed pilots the best; they fly sophisticated lightships from star to star by proving theorems of probabilistic topology -- i.e., they must prove that there are links between the starting and ending "fixed points" in the spacetime manifold in order to make the journey. Sounds far-fetched, but Zindell's flowing prose makes it work:

"With the number storm carrying me along towards the moment of proof, I passed into dreamtime. There was an indescribable perception of orderedness; there was beauty and terror as the manifold opened before me. The number storm intensified, nearly blinding me with the white light of dreamtime. I wondered, as I had always wondered, at the nature of dreamtime and that wonderful mental space we call the manifold. Was the manifold true deep reality, the reality ordering the shape and texture of the outer universe? Some cantors believe this (my mother is not one of these), and it is their faith that when mathematics is perfectly realized, the universe will be perfectly understood. But they are pure mathematicians, and we pilots are not. In the manifold there is no perfection. There is much that we do not understand."

In the above quote you also hear about the cantors (pure mathematicians), and there are also scryers, eschatologists, cetics, horologues, fabulists, tinkers, and holists.   The last are especially interesting to me, since they embody Zindell's fascination with Hesse's Glass Bead Game.  With their goal of understanding patterns and whole systems, the holists work to develop and perfect a Universal Syntax for expressing any possible idea and comparing it with any other.  There's almost a religious awe in something so powerful...

"I believe we must learn the infinite subtleties and the deepest logic of language. I believe we must become true speakers of the Word. When we have learned to speak of all possible connections between all things, then we may extend the metaphors of language into an infinite number of new relationships and forms. Only then will we be able to make a new mathematics. Only then will we create a perfect mirror in our words and thus make a grammar for all nature that will be truly universal."

All the high-minded philosophy is fun, but Zindell's stories are also about hope, love, and the little joys and pains of life.  He conveys the wonderful goal of being able to open your eyes widely and say "yes" to a universe that is flashing the word "no" at you too many times to count.

Ha!  I didn't plan it, but the above links back perfectly to the quote from Andre Breton's Nadja in my first post of this month's A-Z challenge!  :-)  This has been a fantastic experience, and I thank everyone who came to visit.  I may now take a week or so off blogging to recharge my batteries and think about what to do next.  Happy Walpurgisnacht!

- - -

(*) Footnote: I don't want to take away from Zindell's brilliance in this post, so I'll just give a link to a place where I've already blathered on at length about my other favorite novel.

Y is for Yates, Dame Frances

Frances Yates (1899-1981) was an English historian who specialized in the esoteric traditions of Europe during the Renaissance and Enlightenment.  When she started her career, these were pretty much untouchable topics in academia, and she was one of the major 20th century figures who made them respectable.

Because Yates was best known for introducing the public to some strange and unstudied historical topics, it's hard to separate her from her fascinating material.  Still, I think her genius was that of a Glass Bead Game Master, in that she didn't just catalog the facts and figures -- she synthesized!  When I read her books, she gives me a deep intuitive feel for the sweep of connections between those facts and figures.  Who else could help you learn how Shakespeare's plays were connected to the plight of the Jews across Europe?  Or how people being thrown out of windows were related to the dawn of modern magic, or to the very first encyclopedias, or to the first scientific societies?

A lot of Yates' research involved the Renaissance polymath Giordano Bruno, who is known for being an early adopter of Copernican heliocentrism, and an even earlier pioneer of the idea that there are other worlds in the cosmos teeming with life.  Bruno also wrote a lot about the ancient "Art of Memory," a set of mnemonic techniques that help people remember large quantities for later regurgitation.  Yates revealed that the Renaissance fascination with these memory techniques had a deep meditative and mystical vein running through it.  About Bruno's 1591 book De Imaginum, she wrote:

"There is genius in this book, as of a being of great brilliance working at a white heat of intensity at a problem which he believes to be more important than any other, the problem of how to organize the psyche through the imagination.  The conviction that it is within, in the inner images which are nearer to reality than the objects of the outer world, that reality is grasped and the unified vision achieved, underlies the whole.  Seen in the light of an inner sun, the images merge and fuse into the vision of the One."

We're into deep territory, here, and Dame Yates is the psychopomp leading us along.  When I look at the topics she chose to study, I see a forward-looking optimism that can be applied to our own futures, just as much as it was applied literally to the optimism of people in the past, like the Rosicrucians...

"New discoveries are at hand, a new age is dawning.  And this illumination shines inward as well as outward; it is an inward spiritual illumination revealing to man new possibilities in himself, teaching him to understand his own dignity and worth and the part he is called upon to play in the divine scheme."

We're almost to the end of the alphabet, but we're ever at the beginning of our journey.

Licht, Liebe, und Leben

The fantabulous Yaz Pistachio has granted me the Liebster blog award. These are fun occasions to share a bit about yourself and build connections to one's fellows in the blogosphere.  About a year ago, I got another of these bloggy awards from Amanda Heitler (does anyone know what became of her?), and at that time, I punted on the fun facts about myself.  Time to make up for that!

So the thing is to provide 11 random facts about myself, answer the 11 questions posed by the granter of the award, nominate another 11 bloggers, and pose them 11 new questions. I don't think I'll hit all 44 of those marks, but let's see...

Eleven Fun Facts About Cygnus:

1. For about a year in college, I was the theater critic for our university newspaper.

2. I'm half Irish, one quarter English, and one quarter Italian.  My son has to sum up his ethnic origins in thirty seconds.  :-)

3. I juggle.

4. Ever since I can remember, I've had kind of a sixth sense regarding old-style television sets (the ones with vacuum tubes, I suppose).  I could tell if one was on within a radius of 30 or 40 feet, even if it was in another room, around corners, with the sound turned all the way down, etc.  It's an unmistakable fuzzy, staticky resonance that fills the whole body.

5. If I ever join a religion that requires me to face the most sacred place in the world while praying, I'd have a hard time choosing between Harvard's Widener Library and Moe's Books in Berkeley.  Two of the choicest concentrations of holy objects in the world.

6. Like most boys, I had disagreements with my Dad growing up.  But he made Mjolnir for me.  We're good.

7. There's a line in the REO Speedwagon song "Keep On Lovin' You" that I misunderstood for most of my life.  The singer likens his subject to a snake, who's "All coiled up and hissin."  For the life of me, I always thought it said "All coiled up in hearsay."  I still like my version better.

8. Because of strange scheduling conflicts and coincidences, my wife and I defended our dissertations and obtained our respective advanced degrees -- at different universities -- on the same day.  It's crappy that we couldn't be there for each other, but at least the stress was over and done with in one go.

9. One of the strangest places I've ever been was Vigeland Park in Oslo, Norway.  Hundreds of oddly distinctive statues -- some of which reminded me of Ally McBeal's creepy dancing baby -- all created by the same artist, dot these stately grounds.  I suppose part of the strangeness for me was that I was there around 11:00 pm, in the month of June, and it was still light out.

10.  I don't really speak German, but I can recite (and sing off-key) the first few verses of Schiller's Ode to Joy in the original.  At least one German said that I sound like a native speaker when doing it.  Just don't ask me "Wie geht es Ihnen?" or anything complicated like that!  :-)

11. There's no place in the world I'd rather be on a Saturday night than home watching Doctor Who with my lovely wife and adorable son.


Eleven Questions from Ms. Pistachio:

1. Why do you blog?
In 2011, I started this blog because my excitement about games (both the old-school role playing variety and the philosophical Glass Bead variety) was peaking, and I needed to gush about them and explore their connections.  In 2013, I keep blogging because I haven't yet plumbed the depths of those connections, and I keep finding new, fascinating connections -- of the people variety.

2. What is your goal for the next six months?
Get back to 4-5 days a week on the treadmill.  :-)

3. The next year?
Successfully enrich young minds.  (I'm slated to teach courses in Spring 2014 and Fall 2014...)

4. The next five years?
If I really am serious about constructing the Glass Bead Game, I'd probably better learn to play a musical instrument.  (So many people see music as the glue that holds the Universal Language of All Ideas together...)  I think I can trick myself by actually taking the plunge and buying some kind of portable electronic keyboard.  Once good money has been paid, I'd feel too guilty if I didn't start piano lessons on it!

5. If you could have any meal for dinner tonight, anywhere in the world, what would you have?
On special occasions, my wife makes a Szechuan peanut butter noodle dish that has the most exquisite flavor combo.  Cannot be topped!

6. Who are your influences?
Part of that story is being told in my April A-Z posts.  The others were a whole host of teachers, advisors, colleagues, and friends.  See #11 below for one of them. 

7. Have you ever had a recurring (sleeping) dream? If so, care to share it?
There are actually 5 or 6 that make an appearance every so often.  They all seem to be either visits to places that do not really exist, or memories of times that did not really happen.  (As you may be able to guess from fun fact #5, many of the places involve secret sources of rare books!)  These dreams feel utterly real when having them, and when waking up there's often a brief time when I have to sort out my memories a bit.  Am I sure that I've never been there, or done that?

8. Without looking it up, do you know what your birth stone and zodiac sign are?
Leo, and I'd guess the stone is golden yellow in color (topaz?), since Leo is ruled by the Sun.  [Bzzt... nope.  But what do peridot and sardonyx have to do with a solar lion?]
 
9. What was the first name of the first person you kissed/who kissed you?
Carla.

10. What is your favorite pizza topping?
Oh, Squid precognitively stole my answer.  How can it be anything other than bacon?
 
11. Most interesting teacher you ever had?
Well, the most interesting was the geometry teacher who encouraged us to steal spoons from the restaurant at which we had an awards banquet.  But let me go with "best" teacher instead.  In high school, we had a split course in anthropology and sociology, taught by the gentlest soul I've ever known.  Mr. K (first name Gyula) was polymathic in knowledge and introduced me to many concepts that changed how I thought about the world.  Even well into college I looked back on the notes I took from his class.  But what's burned into my memory is his consolation of a girl who was going through a rough time.  A few kids were sitting around a table -- study hall, I think -- but none of us knew what to say after hearing what she was going through.  Mr. K kind of spoke to all of us, but really was addressing her.  He told a few anecdotes, some about his own life, one from Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead, and ended simply with "You know I believe in you."  My summary doesn't do it justice, but trust me -- magic.


Eleven Other Bloggers to Get the Award:

Glurp... this is where I have start to have problems.  Many of the ones I'd choose were already a part of my group of 11, and Squid picked off a few others.  What say you good readers just look to the right at my blog roll and pick a few new places to visit.  I know it's not to easy to "Follow" other bloggers any more (i.e., there's no longer an easy "follow button" at the top of the screen; at least for me), but please make the effort if you discover someone interesting.  Many of these folks are old-school role-playing game enthusiasts with streaks of creativity that just won't stop.

I'm going to pass on creating the 11 new questions, since I'm not explicitly tagging anyone with them.

Oh, and the title of this post is German for Light, Love, and Life -- gotta balance being a Liebster with being a Lichtster and a Lebenster (if that makes any sense).  This phrase was also the title of a mythical magical lodge that supposedly started the whole Victorian English occult revival in the 1800s.

X is for Xenophanes?

I actually did intend to write about the pre-Socratic philosopher Xenophanes, about whom I remember being fascinated when I was researching my Great American Novel.  However, I'll be darned if I can think of more than 2 or 3 marginally interesting factoids about him to report to you fine readers.

So, with apologies, I'll take a bit of a break today.  I'm excited about Y and Z, but for now I'll just give you another X-named personage to fill the void...