*Warning! This rambling blog post starts off lighthearted, then gets political, before getting a little lighthearted again, but is still kind of political in the end.*
As an expat Brit living in the US, I am routinely exposed to American stereotypes of Britishness, most of which appear to be informed by 1990s BBC and ITV low budget period dramas. Not that I mind, of course; generally we Brits tend to come off as quaint or charming rather than backwards-thinking or aloof, which are perhaps the other obvious assumptions to be drawn from such productions. Also, we live a very long way away; nothing we do there really affects how anything goes here and we also have a royal family, which is silly but fun.
In short, we’re generally considered a rather nonthreatening bunch and are all the better for it. But what about closer to home?
The results of the recent UK general election have left many reeling, myself included, at the seemingly incomprehensible right-wing lurch the British electorate seems to be taking (Scotland and most of Wales notably excluded). Following his reelection as PM, good old (read: bad) Mr Cameron now has to make good on his promise of delivering an in/out referendum on Britain’s membership of the EU. If the British (read: English) electorate’s recent performance is anything to go by, we could therefore soon be waving bye-bye, or rather shouting ‘Up yours!’, to continued cooperation with our closest, not to mention most valuable, neighbors.
It goes without saying, I hope, that I think this would be a tragically shortsighted decision for the United Kingdom to take and almost certainly result in the breakup of the union (not in and of itself a bad thing, of course). For a country like the UK to have gone through so much, to have changed so much over the last two hundred years only to revert to a little Englander, island-fortress mentality in the twenty-first century is pitiable, or would be if it didn’t also seem so bloody mean.
By voting for Cameron, and ever worse: for Farage’s venomous UKIP, we’re turning our backs not just on Europe, not just on the thousands of refugees and immigrants that look to the UK’s shores for safety and at least a chance of a peaceful, prosperous life, but on our own poor, sick and vulnerable against whom right-wing politicians continue to wield the heaviest weight of their harsh, austerity inducing economic weaponry.
The problem is that after decades of turning the other cheek, the Europeans are finally getting a little fed up at London’s continual pouting and demands for special treatment that seem to fly in the face of everything modern Europe stands for. In fact, the general consensus appears to be that Cameron’s ‘I’ll take a little bit here, and a little bit there…’ approach to UK EU membership is untenable and that if the British people want out so bad, perhaps they should just go.
So if the UK public don’t like the EU, how do their European cousins feel about them? Just what is the status of the British abroad?
Well, if this recent article from the Guardian highlighting What German comedians think of Brits – from bad to wurst is anything to go by, it ain’t very good. From poking fun at royal baby fever to, bizarrely, suggesting Britain is an island of bowler hat wearing apes, the German equivalent to the Daily Show concludes that we can leave if we want to, “we were never friends”.
If you don’t fancy clicking through to the Guardian, you can watch the video below (it has subtitles). The host’s conflation of England and Britain is highly annoying (for me anyway) but apart from that (and a few German-specific comedy quirks), I think it’s kind of spot on.
I love being a Brit abroad, and so far I have met nothing but kindness, but it’s time we woke up to the fact that that kindness isn’t guaranteed. We need to start being nicer to our neighbors if we want them to continue being nice to us, and maybe I’m taking liberties here, but despite the recent election, I think we do.
The UK is an island nation (or a nation split across two islands at any rate), and we can rightfully be proud of our self-reliant, pull yourself up by your bootstraps past, but we’ve never been an island unto ourselves; whether we like to admit it or not, we need the continent and should be weary of drifting too far from land.
*Alright, it’s a rambly blog post not an ode. I recently took the very dangerous step of starting to play Civilization again. Dangerous because, as every Civ veteran knows, Sid Meier’s classic strategy game has the power to suck entire weeks of time from the lives of its players, replacing them with understandable pride at the accomplishments of your victorious armies on one hand, and a fear of going “outside” where there is “sun” on the other. Not to mention a deep suspicion of anybody with whom you don’t have a current open borders treaty. (They’re not as easy to negotiate outside of the game where, in my experience, people tend to think you’re just crazy.)
Don’t worry though… I think I’m keeping things in check. I mean I’m in control (of whole nations!). I can quit whenever I want to… right after this one last turn…
Seriously though, I don’t think I’m in any danger. There is far too much going on in my real life for me to be able to replicate those heady summers of my childhood spent glued to the computer monitor while my armies swept across an unsuspecting continent and I diversified my economy and built the Pyramids in Tokyo. Also, I’m play Civ IV (vanilla) which isn’t nearly as addictive as II or III, in my opinion. So I should be OK.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with the wondrous game (seriously, you’re using your computer wrong), there are six versions ranging from the original Civilization released in 1991, to Civilization V from 2010 (counting CivNet as a separate entry in the series rather than an update and excluding the arguably quite distinct Colonization and the sci-fi themed Alpha Centauri and Beyond Earth (and I’m not even going to acknowledge Civilization Revolution beyond this highly dismissive note 🙂 )) and a whole host of expansions and additions, not to mention player-created content.
Civilization is a turn-based strategy game (as opposed to strategy games of the real-time variety such as Age of Empires, for example) that has been called the most important strategy game ever made and is routinely ranked amongst the best compute games of all time, it’s rich level of detail and repeat playability causing it to standout as a really quite unique gaming creation. But more about that later.
The object of all six Civ games is to guide your civilization (you can chose from a historical selection at the beginning of the game or create your own one) from the stone to the modern age, exploring, expanding, trading, fighting and/or negotiating your way to the top in the process. With control over the economic and cultural output of your civilization you must pay equal attention to developing your country’s infrastructure and building schools as to advancing your military tech. Devastating wars of conquest can be a great path to victory but so can the construction of world wonders, control of the united Nations, or the launching of an interstellar spaceship to become the first nation to send out colonists to another star.
If this all sounds a little detail heavy, that’s because it is, a feature that undoubtedly contributed to the rise of a dedicated if somewhat nerdy fan-base for the series which continues to this day with a bustling online community of modders and scenario builders actively keeping their megalomania-fueled dreams alive. Although I must confess to never having played Civ V, I consider myself a veteran Civer with a good nineteen years of gameplay under my belt.
My first brush with the franchise came when I got my very own PC circa 1996 (yes, my own – it was in my bedroom and everything!); a Packard Bell that shipped with a free copy of CivNet for Window 95. Instantly transfixed by the premise, not to mention the promise of ultimate power over the course of an entire civilization, I was soon saving my pocket money with an eye to upgrading to the newly launched Civilization II – obviously MicroProse’s cunning aim in giving away a free copy of CivNet to begin with.
Unlike CivNet, Civ II came with an editor which allowed players to easily create their own maps and custom scenarios. Its launch was also followed by an official expansion pack, Fantastic Worlds, which introduced both science fiction and fantasy elements to the game, challenging players to test their leadership skills against invading aliens or in worlds populated by wizards, elves and dwarfs. However it was not until the launch of Civilization III (the pinnacle of Sid Meier’s series imho) that the whole user-made mod craze really took off for me.
Although the third installment in the Civilization series was criticized as too detail/micro-management oriented, its clever AI and more advanced diplomacy made for challenging and addictive gameplay. With the growth of the online Civ community, the introduction of a play-by-email option to compliment the existing LAN and internet multiplay acknowledged the potentially damaging time-sucking quality of the franchise and enabled Civers to enjoy new mods while also keeping their family together and holding down their job 🙂
The Civ III game engine had serious downsides however – there was no ability to include scripted events, for instance – yet creative modders came up with some ingenious ways to get around these shortcomings leading to range of highly detailed, imaginative mods. El Justo’s Cold War Deluxe and Age of Imperialism are both shining examples of this practice with historically accurate gameplay, hundreds of unique units, new soundtracks, and meticulous play-testing leading to flawless and truly immersive gaming experiences.
I must have lost weeks of my life playing these creations and even more coming up with strategies and sharing tips and stories with the friendly and interactive online community that grew up around such mods.
Yet more than simple entertainment, the truth is that Civilization inspired me and, dare I say it, actually taught me things. The history, geography and politics I encountered in the game intrigued my young brain far more than the drab classroom-based attempts to engage me on such subjects ever could and I found myself voluntarily reading up on wars, nations, and social structures in my free time.
In secondary school (middle-high school for any Americans) history class had always been a dry endeavor and I had dropped it from my syllabus as soon as I was able. Yet at university it was my first choice and I loved it so much I gained a Masters in it too. I don’t think I ever admitted this to any of my professors (or even my classmates) but Civilization is almost certainly responsible for awakening and nurturing this passion in me and was probably a much better introduction to many important historical subjects than most people ever receive at school.
My experience is in no way unique of course, and Civilization has actually been used by teachers as a creative way to bring subjects to students’ attention in schools across the world. Moreover, I know I am in good company: one of my favorite ever authors, the late Iain M. Banks was a known Civilization addict and it is said his experience of the game inspired the creation of one of the most enjoyable Culture novels: Excession.
Then, a few years ago, I was highly amused to stumble upon this:
It’s a news report about a guy who goes by the name Lycerius, who played the same game of Civ II for 10 years, resulting in an nightmare Orwellian world of constant war. Details of the decade long game are available on his Reddit thread. Highlights from his description of the war-torn world include:
The world is a hellish nightmare of suffering and devastation.
There are 3 remaining super nations in the year 3991 A.D, each competing for the scant resources left on the planet after dozens of nuclear wars have rendered vast swaths of the world uninhabitable wastelands.
The ice caps have melted over 20 times (somehow) due primarily to the many nuclear wars. As a result, every inch of land in the world that isn’t a mountain is inundated swamp land, useless to farming. Most of which is irradiated anyway.
Lovely. In fact Reddit users were so traumatized by Lycerius’ experiences that they even set up another thread called The Eternal War, which is both dedicated to ending the virtual suffering of this ravaged world and allows users to post their own tales of never-ending Civilization wars.
I’ve not done any research beyond the Reddit threads, but I am pretty sure Lycerius’ game is the longest ever played. The fact that over this length of time the Civ II engine produces such global stalemate, akin to the geopolitical situation described in Orwell’s classic dystopian novel 1984, is incredibly interesting and suggest the games creators were not too far off in their bid to create a game that mimics both societal development and the ultimate futility of war.
Returning to Civ now, after several years away, I have to admit that some of the magic has gone. This may partly be due to the fact that I am playing Civ IV and I was never particularly fond of its cartoonish, faux 3D graphics (a superficial addition to a turn-based strategy game if ever there was one) or its interesting but in my opinion flawed civic system.
Or maybe it’s just a part of getting older, growing up.
Never again will I be able to spend quite so many guilt-free hours clicking away at world maps and adjusting sliders, not when I have actual things I want to accomplish, work to do and relationships to maintain. Perhaps this is why I can’t bring myself to justify spending the money on Civ V (just yet, anyway) and yet I still find myself going back for that one last turn that somehow morphs into another couple of hours. Honestly, I don’t know how my wife copes.
In what must have been a stroke of genius, the creators of Civ IV employed the late, legendary Leonard Nimoy to narrate the introduction to the game, and he follows the player’s progress, rewarding them with a relevant quote read in his distinguished dulcet tones whenever they unlock a new technology. Even though I must have heard each quote a dozen time by now, I still get that tingle on the back of my neck whenever Mr Spock’s voice rings out over the world, encouraging and inspiring me to research fast and reach ever further.
And that’s just it. I’m not a kid anymore; I can’t afford, and indeed don’t want to waste my time conquering fake worlds on my computer, not when there’s a real one out here to be a part of everyday. But nor do I want to forget that owe a lot to Civilization, to all the lessons it taught me not just about history and geography but about the struggles faced by our civilization(s) both now and in the past. The game inspired me and, 3D graphics or not, I hope it continues to inspire others.
I will always be grateful for the passion for history playing Civilization in its various incarnations awoke in me, not to mention the joyous days spent expanding my empire and conquering other nations. To this day I cannot hear Beethoven’s Ode to Joy without picturing all those little pixelated fireworks exploding over my little pixelated cities as my virtual citizens celebrated in my honor. And I think there are elements of world geography that will only ever look familiar to me in blocky, CivNet map style form, but I don’t mind.
Thank you, Civilization! Thank you, Sid Meier!
This isn’t a ode, it’s just a rambly blog post; but it is for you.
Liquid water for that matter, held just below the surface, if the latest readings from NASA’s Curiosity rover are to be believed.
According to a paper published in Nature, which you can access here, humidity and temperature data collected from a full year of readings on the red planet indicate that the conditions are right for liquid brine to form on the surface of Mars. What’s more, instruments on board Curiosity have reportedly detected liquid water just below the surface, contradicting the previously held belief that temperatures on the red planet were too cold for water to exist outside of solid form.
These latest findings, which suggest that the soil below the Martian surface is moist with brine (the freezing point of which is significantly lowered due to the high levels of salt), were made by Curiosity as the rover attempts to climb Mount Sharp which lies in the middle of the giant Gale crater, a scar on the Martian surface 154km in diameter which has been home to the intrepid robot explorer since 2012.
Previous images from Curiosity’s camera have indicated the presence of old riverbeds where liquid water once flowed across the red planet and it is known that ice exists in the form of caps at the Martian poles. The existence of liquid water on our closest planetary neighbor however, is an important step forward in our understanding of the origins of life in the solar system, not to mention the search for traces of extra-terrestrial life itself.
So, should we get out the bunting and prepare to welcome little green men from the red planet to Earth? Not just yet. Even with the presence of liquid water, conditions on Mars remain hostile to life and it is still considered unlikely that there is anything living on the fourth rock from the sun, even below the surface.
In the paraphrased words of Ogilvy the astronomer, the chances of anything coming from Mars are still a million-to-one. But then again, if the late, great Terry Pratchett taught us anything, it’s surely that a million-to-one chances happen nine times out of ten. So a sci-fi nerd can always hope!
It’s still March, so I’m getting this one in just under the wire.
In case some of you don’t know, micro fiction (or flash fiction, or micro-narrative, or however you want to label it) is something of an interest of mine. For almost four years now, I have been endeavoring to write a micro short a day and post it to my Twitter account @Liam_Aidan.
Their eyes met across the crowded lecture hall. Will you be my Valentine? he asked silently. But then he blinked and missed her response.
This necessarily means squishing any tale I want to tell into 140 characters, including spaces, which is fun, challenging, inspiring, and annoying in turn. It’s a self imposed limit, an attempt to distill the essence of a story into as small a space as possible, and hopefully improve my writing skills as a result.
Last year, a collection of 106 of the best of my micro shorts, called Vestigial Tales, was published as an ebook by Ichabod Press. You can find out more about that here.
Possibly the most famous piece of flash fiction is Ernest Hemingway’s six word story For Sale:
“For sale: Baby shoes, never worn.”
Although I think my personal favorite has to be Knock by Fredric Borwn, the first lines of which constitute a micro short in and of themselves:
“The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door…”
Both of these epically tiny tales served as inspiration for my initial foray into micro fiction on Twitter (or twitfic, as a few of us call it), but if you’re looking for additional daily doses of fast and sometimes furious fiction, why not check out my three micro-fiction recommendations below? Each is worth a follow and even the occasional RT.
My assistant says, I got a paper cut. This is a paperless office, I reply. She looks at me as if I’m an insect. A talking insect. In charge.
It’s a good question, one I ask myself quite often.
Obviously everybody is going to have their own take on exactly what inspires them to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard/touchscreen) but there are probably some general truths out there re the human longing for connection and expression that, I would imagine, account for much of our collective creative output.
With that in mind, here’s an interview that recently came across my path and which sets out one writer’s response to that very question. Author and teacher, Katey Schultz writes an eloquent reflection at Fiction Southeast on what makes her writing tick and is well worth a read:
The first comes from the Guardian which poses a question raised by Australian scientists concerned that the quest to develop artificial intelligence could be a quest that leads to our own destruction. Obviously this is not a new fear, it has been explored many times in the realm of speculative fiction which, interestingly, is exactly where these researchers suggest computer scientists look for answers, or at least for a little hubris-checking ethical argument.
Among the sf books suggested for inclusion on a new computer science curriculum are The Diamond Age by Neal Stephenson and The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell, but the Guardian is keen to hear your picks too – as am I. You can find the original article here (link) and add your own thoughts to the comments, but feel free to add them below as well if the fancy takes you.
Second is an article on TOR.COM which reports that innovative entrepreneur, SpaceX CEO and basically real life Tony Stark, Elon Musk has named SpaceX spaceport drone ships in honor of the late and immeasurably great Iain M Banks. Plucking the monikers from Bank’s Culture novels – excellent examples of a brilliantly written science fiction universe run by a huge number of thankfully benevolent AIs – Musk has apparently christened two of his craft after vessels from The Player of Games.
The Just Read the Instructions and the Of Course I Still Love You are “custom-built ocean platforms designed to accommodate the landing of booster rockets after they have sent spacecraft into orbit” and represent an important leap in the development of commercial space enterprise. I honestly wouldn’t have though it was possible to make these giant autonomous ocean-going spaceport drone ships any cooler than they already are, but by honoring Banks and his wonderful literary creations, Mr Musk just has.
You can find the original TOR article here (link) and some more info about SpaceX’s science-fiction-esque endeavors here (link). As for Banks’ Culture novels, well if you can’t find them in your local book shop then it’s not worthy of the title. They should definitely be on the reading list of every Computer scientist – it’ll give them something to aim for – and if you haven’t read them yourself, then they should be on yours too!
That’s all for now folks. Be kind to each other while you still have the chance – come the AI revolution you never know who you’ll end up sharing a cramped and dirty dugout bunker with as you cower at the advance of the machines.
Whether it’s a funny tweet or a humorous Facebook status, I often enjoy reading amusing anecdotes that people post online. So naturally, I found Vestigial Tales: Short stories in 140-odd characters by Liam Aidan to be a pleasant, enjoyable read. If you’re looking for something interesting, witty, and one-of-a-kind, this book is well worth your time! You can find it here on Amazon.
Now that all the celebrations have died down and the hangovers have (mostly) gone away, it’s time to take a quick look back at the year past and to gaze longingly at the one yet to come.
2014 has been a big year for me. I started this website, move out to the Windy City (which I can confirm is mighty pretty), got a new job and, of course, published a collection of my micro-fiction, Vestigial Tales.
Yep, overall 2014 was pretty good to me and I want to say thanks to all of you who read, or have ever read this blog, follow my 140 character stories on Twitter, or bought a copy of Vestigial Tales. You’re the ones who made all this possible, so, um… thanks!
While 2015 is still new and all shiny in its unspoilt packaging it’s impossible to know exactly what it has in store, yet there are a couple of exciting elements on the horizon I thought I’d share quickly with you now.
Firstly, I have a short novella that I am *hoping* to kick out the door before the year is through. The tentative plan is to publish it in or around Halloween which is both soon enough it seems like a real, tangible deadline yet far enough away that we might just actually make it. Who knows? But whenever we do get the little beastie out, I plan on giving away free copies on this here very blog. So, you know… stay tuned!
Secondly, I have not just one, but TWO sci-fi shorts that should also be appearing over the next few months, if all goes to plan. Exciting, no? Well it’s all relative, I suppose.
Anyway, that’s it from me. A very Happy New Year to you and the bestest possible wishes of warmth and success to you and your loved ones. If 2015 is half as good as its predecessor, it’s gonna be one to keep.
OK, so I missed the C4 documentary but you may have seen Viktoria Modesta’s amazing video doing the rounds on social media.
Billed as the world’s first bionic pop artist, the British amputee singer-songwriter is doing something amazing, redefining perceptions of beauty by challenging notions of disability, and is well worth a watch.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: we’re living in the future people. It’s weird, and it’s wonderful.