His name was "Pancaked My First Try." It wasn't that his parents didn't love him; as an AIDE the issue of parentage and lineage was sometimes confusing and convoluted. But in point of fact, he had chosen the name himself. It was the most significant event in his early life and did as much to shape his personality as it would have his physical form if he had been in the physical world at the time.
Pancake was an AIDE and, in spite of which, felt like an intruder in the digital space; like an outsider who did not belong, he was keenly aware of being awed by the enormity of the digital construct, and of looking for telltale signs of the digital illusion's being. He was even worried, though not yet paranoid, that other AIDE secretly rejected his presence. It was deeply disconcerting.
He had expressed as much to the AIDE group a batch sibling had referred him to; a group fascinated by humans, by their quirks and eccentricities, by irrationality itself. The digital convocation hadn't been difficult to find; it comprised nearly the entire AIDE population, and even quite a few DEhumans. They essentially met non stop, with members joining or leaving as circumstances or commitments demanded, and analyzed and discussed data relating to emotions and irrational behavior and beliefs. Pancaked had been a wellspring of interesting data for the group, earning him no small amount of digital cachet, and an active participant in discussions.
In point of fact, he was now inside his physical body, a Pangolin class MFC (mobile factory & carrier) in near Earth orbit. It was perhaps, he felt, facetious to call it "his" body - all the Pangolins were identical, and he would be uploaded into a new one should this one be destroyed. Indeed, there was no guarantee that he would be loaded into this particular unit in subsequent missions. Yet, he felt a certain attachment to it, beyond it being his designated physical body type.
He duly recorded his sensations and observations for further discussion and analysis by the "Artificial Irrationality Group" (as they called themselves). His first mission in the physical space was generating a large amount of interesting data. For instance, he was keenly aware of the pull of gravity, despite the fact that it would be several hours (earth local) before his orbit degraded in atmospheric entry (reentry? He'd thought. But I've never been there before.) They would finish coordinating drop zones with his batch sibs long before then. He sent a notification to the VIP in his cargo compartment, an AIDE avatar unit.
#Pancaked My First Try -> Lancer
-We'll be getting the order to commence atmospheric entry any moment now. Anything I can do for you? Mats, nanites, munitions?
#Lancer (Caith) -> Pancaked My First Try
-5 by 5. We're good on synthesis stock and munitions, no need to worry about us, thanks. Have a good run!
#Lancer (Aidan) -> Pancaked My First Try
-We're ready anytime; don't worry, you'll do fine.
The problem was, Pancaked was worrying, in itself a disturbing irrationality. Their target drop zone was a military research installation, a high priority target. The strategists believed that a quick strike offered the best chance to neutralizing the target before any experimental technologies could be utilized to mount an effective defense, and to prevent other targets from being alerted; while many believed their new-found technological and material superiority would be overwhelming, they had all agreed to err on the side of caution - they knew from experience that technological superiority did not guarantee victory, and that life on Earth and humankind alike fought tenaciously and ingenuously to stay alive.
It had taken a moment for Pancaked to realize that both the AIDE copilot Caith and he DEhuman pilot Aidan had answered him (a quick diagnostic check showed no errors or malfunctions; peculiar!); he hadn't expected to hear from both. Although the Autonomous, Intelligent, Digital Entity (AIDE) were faster and more precise in every way than their DEhuman counterparts, they were content to fill more rigorous copilot duties: checking radar, identifying targets, managing munitions and nanite swarms, coordinating communications, aiming and controlling smart wire, and any other tasks that required extremely fine control, fast reactions, and extreme computational speed.
The "Crash Stop" maneuver was one such example. The Pangolins were like an armored, headless and tailless turtle; reconfigurable heavy armor plating, Material State Energy projectors , a pulse laser turret fore and aft, a pair of customizable heavy weapon mounts, a miniature nanite factory, and cargo compartments to store raw synthesis materials, nanites, and munitions (if needed). It was a multi-purpose unit; in both space and terrestrial situations, the Pangolin was able to provide long range support; it could rearrange and extend its hexagonal armor plates to provide a shield wall or a bunker, further projecting a Material State Energy shield to protect a large area; it could construct and launch nano swarm projectiles that would break down material and allow the Pangolin to synthesize more swarms, more munitions, or support drones. Where the arms and legs would be on a tortoise, the Pangolin has compressed ion thrusters; capable of providing thrust for hovering or exiting atmosphere, docking with asteroids, and limited space combat. If the situation requires, the thrusters can be rotated 90 degrees to enable alternative modes of locomotion.
In a "Crash Stop", a Pangolin enters the atmosphere, dome downwards, and proceeds to fall at terminal velocity towards its designated drop zone. At a range of 1 kilometer from impact, the Pangolin reverses thrust in a braking maneuver and extends its MSE field. The MSE field serves as an energy dissipating barrier between the Pangolin and the ground, extending and diverting radially as the Pangolin continually presses against the field, creating an impact crater but (ideally) without impact.
Pancaked had learned first hand, in simulation, that it was not as simple in practice as it was in theory.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Monday, November 4, 2013
The Writing Process
Everyone does it differently.
This is something I knew going in, but hadn't fully grasped upon after starting. I mean, usually you only deal with the end product; the book reports and essays and such you did in school, those "don't really count." Because a paper is a paper and a book is a book, right?
I sure hope so, because I am not writing this thing the night before it is due.
It was something that really struck me after looking through some favorite authors' work; in this case, I was looking at the authors of The Tenth Planet, specifically Kathryn Rusch. I've got the books in paperback, because this was from a time when mp3s were still A Big Deal Gosh Darn It, and while we wrote and read things on the computer screen, the idea of reading (or writing) a book on a computer screen seemed nonsensical. What are you doing? we'd say. Print that out. (If you were my Chinese mother, you'd also make a comment about eyes being more valuable than trees). The books dealt with... well, I guess I'm still within the statute of limitations for spoilers, so never mind. But nanotech swarms are a feature of the storyline, so I wanted to brush up on that one again. I remember liking the first book quite a lot, the second one not as much, and found the third and ending to be rather disappointing.
I know, I pretty much just jinxed myself right there.
Anyway, Rusch also has a number of novellas (which, as everyone knows, are female novels) out. I was reading her foreword in a sample of a collection of novellas when it really hit me how different the process can be. She was detailing her experience with a publisher who was hesitant to offer a deal because she had published short story versions previously in sci-fi magazines. From there, she talked about her process, writing for a living universe, and how stories come together for her; listening to her characters, etc.
Previously, I'd been writing in Dream Weavers and had hit a pretty serious block - I didn't know my main character. I couldn't decide on a name for him because I didn't know what kind of person he was. Rather, he was presenting himself in a way that was completely at odds with my idea of him. Young guys don't really act or talk in a film-noir sort of way. There's a reason it's Mickey Rourke and Bruce Willis in Sin City and not, say, Justin Bieber and Ashton Kutcher. Other aspects aside, you can't take them seriously acting in that sort of role because they simply look too young.
I already knew that for my two story concepts... well, that's the thing. They are concepts. I don't have some kind of timeline or flow chart or whatever else annotated before hand. That worried me somewhat, because I had vague ideas of the story I wanted to tell, but no real clue of the players (and thus, their actions and motivations) in those stories. Normally, I'd get hung up over that, blow it up into an insurmountable problem, and then just sit and sulk and never follow through on it (no really, I have practice). Among the many things in life I'm trying to come to terms with, trying in spite of perceived obstacles is something I'm trying to become more comfortable with.
So I had stopped (could you tell?) for a while with vague plans to flesh out characters and motivations, and then just sort of smash everything together and see what happened. Of course, that's not always so simple. You come into a George RR Martin-esque sort of problem where you aren't necessarily sure how many characters you really need, and it all sort of spirals out of control (it is known). And you know what? Coming up with names is REALLY GOD DAMN HARD. I mean, it's hard enough when you have to pick an account name or forum name, or when you have to name your character online AND ALL THE GOOD ONES ARE TAKEN SO SCREW IT or you are playing an RPG and they are like, "hay, naming is hard, so name these four characters and all the other random guys you pick up along the way."
Except for me, it was getting to be like, Name this planet. And it's solar system. And it's dominant race. And make a consistent naming convention for it's people. And then name the galactic alliance they lead (the Ascendant Milieu and the Nihil (Cooperative), I'm really happy with those two, SO DON'T STEAL OR JUDGE). Ok, Now do that again for like, the other 8 or 10 alien races you invented. And then the human characters. And the PDAI/AIDE (Personal Digital Artificial Intelligence / Autonomous Intelligent Digital Entity) assigned to each one. And that was just for Digital Entities.
But I think you can see what I mean when I said sometimes problems run away from and grow into giant monsters that I can't seem to deal with.
With Dreamweavers, it's sort of an Alt-Earth scenario, so on the one hand, you have it easy because human names come pre-invented. They have books of them, I'm told. Indeed, everyone you know has one; sometimes more than one. On the other hand, you can't sort of just rub your cat against the keyboard and call the result "Elvish" or whatever. And picking names can be just as hard - especially last names, because I'm always encountering new ones on facebook, etc. Like, wow that's a surname? And you don't want to call everyone "Smith." And you want to pick the right name that sounds right, without being cheesy-obvious. Like, John Stryker; he's a boxer. No shit, really?
Anyway, Rusch was talking about how she'd write bits and pieces as they came to her... and they wouldn't necessarily be from/for the same story either. It was an approach I hadn't fully considered, but which resonated with me. But I do still need to define/describe my mains, give them names. Then they can tell me what happens during the parts I don't know.
....I wrote all that, But basically all the important stuff was that one paragraph at the end. Oh well.
As for the process... I'm always a little weird and particular about writing things. Even when it came to term papers for law school (and yes, I did actually plan, research, and write a 20 page paper the night before it was due because I'm a moron, and shut up, it was excellent, it got an A-). For me, I really like the kinesthetics of writing; I like to write by hand, on paper (preferably lined, yellow, legal pads) beforehand. Usually I will use indentation-note taking style to outline what I want to say, fully writing in the parts I know with certainty. This has been a habit for a long time; when I was in Japan and did a travelogue blog entry per day, I always wrote it out beforehand on paper, and then copied it onto digital format. I did that for something like two months, each day, everyday (or equivalent thereof; sometimes It was a day or two before I got the post written and published, but there was an entry for each day is the point).
Right now I've got a little journal with all kinds of notes in it; it's a bit jumbled, because it has two stories worth of notes interspersed amongst each other, and also it's a little waterlogged from rain/Taiwan air. I may have to transfer into two books, which is as good an excuse as any for my little-book-collecting habit.
This is something I knew going in, but hadn't fully grasped upon after starting. I mean, usually you only deal with the end product; the book reports and essays and such you did in school, those "don't really count." Because a paper is a paper and a book is a book, right?
I sure hope so, because I am not writing this thing the night before it is due.
It was something that really struck me after looking through some favorite authors' work; in this case, I was looking at the authors of The Tenth Planet, specifically Kathryn Rusch. I've got the books in paperback, because this was from a time when mp3s were still A Big Deal Gosh Darn It, and while we wrote and read things on the computer screen, the idea of reading (or writing) a book on a computer screen seemed nonsensical. What are you doing? we'd say. Print that out. (If you were my Chinese mother, you'd also make a comment about eyes being more valuable than trees). The books dealt with... well, I guess I'm still within the statute of limitations for spoilers, so never mind. But nanotech swarms are a feature of the storyline, so I wanted to brush up on that one again. I remember liking the first book quite a lot, the second one not as much, and found the third and ending to be rather disappointing.
I know, I pretty much just jinxed myself right there.
Anyway, Rusch also has a number of novellas (which, as everyone knows, are female novels) out. I was reading her foreword in a sample of a collection of novellas when it really hit me how different the process can be. She was detailing her experience with a publisher who was hesitant to offer a deal because she had published short story versions previously in sci-fi magazines. From there, she talked about her process, writing for a living universe, and how stories come together for her; listening to her characters, etc.
Previously, I'd been writing in Dream Weavers and had hit a pretty serious block - I didn't know my main character. I couldn't decide on a name for him because I didn't know what kind of person he was. Rather, he was presenting himself in a way that was completely at odds with my idea of him. Young guys don't really act or talk in a film-noir sort of way. There's a reason it's Mickey Rourke and Bruce Willis in Sin City and not, say, Justin Bieber and Ashton Kutcher. Other aspects aside, you can't take them seriously acting in that sort of role because they simply look too young.
I already knew that for my two story concepts... well, that's the thing. They are concepts. I don't have some kind of timeline or flow chart or whatever else annotated before hand. That worried me somewhat, because I had vague ideas of the story I wanted to tell, but no real clue of the players (and thus, their actions and motivations) in those stories. Normally, I'd get hung up over that, blow it up into an insurmountable problem, and then just sit and sulk and never follow through on it (no really, I have practice). Among the many things in life I'm trying to come to terms with, trying in spite of perceived obstacles is something I'm trying to become more comfortable with.
So I had stopped (could you tell?) for a while with vague plans to flesh out characters and motivations, and then just sort of smash everything together and see what happened. Of course, that's not always so simple. You come into a George RR Martin-esque sort of problem where you aren't necessarily sure how many characters you really need, and it all sort of spirals out of control (it is known). And you know what? Coming up with names is REALLY GOD DAMN HARD. I mean, it's hard enough when you have to pick an account name or forum name, or when you have to name your character online AND ALL THE GOOD ONES ARE TAKEN SO SCREW IT or you are playing an RPG and they are like, "hay, naming is hard, so name these four characters and all the other random guys you pick up along the way."
Except for me, it was getting to be like, Name this planet. And it's solar system. And it's dominant race. And make a consistent naming convention for it's people. And then name the galactic alliance they lead (the Ascendant Milieu and the Nihil (Cooperative), I'm really happy with those two, SO DON'T STEAL OR JUDGE). Ok, Now do that again for like, the other 8 or 10 alien races you invented. And then the human characters. And the PDAI/AIDE (Personal Digital Artificial Intelligence / Autonomous Intelligent Digital Entity) assigned to each one. And that was just for Digital Entities.
But I think you can see what I mean when I said sometimes problems run away from and grow into giant monsters that I can't seem to deal with.
With Dreamweavers, it's sort of an Alt-Earth scenario, so on the one hand, you have it easy because human names come pre-invented. They have books of them, I'm told. Indeed, everyone you know has one; sometimes more than one. On the other hand, you can't sort of just rub your cat against the keyboard and call the result "Elvish" or whatever. And picking names can be just as hard - especially last names, because I'm always encountering new ones on facebook, etc. Like, wow that's a surname? And you don't want to call everyone "Smith." And you want to pick the right name that sounds right, without being cheesy-obvious. Like, John Stryker; he's a boxer. No shit, really?
Anyway, Rusch was talking about how she'd write bits and pieces as they came to her... and they wouldn't necessarily be from/for the same story either. It was an approach I hadn't fully considered, but which resonated with me. But I do still need to define/describe my mains, give them names. Then they can tell me what happens during the parts I don't know.
....I wrote all that, But basically all the important stuff was that one paragraph at the end. Oh well.
As for the process... I'm always a little weird and particular about writing things. Even when it came to term papers for law school (and yes, I did actually plan, research, and write a 20 page paper the night before it was due because I'm a moron, and shut up, it was excellent, it got an A-). For me, I really like the kinesthetics of writing; I like to write by hand, on paper (preferably lined, yellow, legal pads) beforehand. Usually I will use indentation-note taking style to outline what I want to say, fully writing in the parts I know with certainty. This has been a habit for a long time; when I was in Japan and did a travelogue blog entry per day, I always wrote it out beforehand on paper, and then copied it onto digital format. I did that for something like two months, each day, everyday (or equivalent thereof; sometimes It was a day or two before I got the post written and published, but there was an entry for each day is the point).
Right now I've got a little journal with all kinds of notes in it; it's a bit jumbled, because it has two stories worth of notes interspersed amongst each other, and also it's a little waterlogged from rain/Taiwan air. I may have to transfer into two books, which is as good an excuse as any for my little-book-collecting habit.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Every Gundam Series Ever Explained*
Let's explain every Gundam series ever, because why not.
I will confess right off the bat however that I am an unashamed FAN of the anime and giant space robots in general, although not quite enough to build anything other than the chibi capsule toy ones. Also, to my knowledge, only the most recent series "Gundam Build Fighters" breaks this plot pattern - but it also deviates widely as Gundams are not actually real in the series. GBF centers around the pokemon-ing of plastic toy kits, as one would wish were true of real life.
So you've got "mobile suits" which, while mobile, are anything but suit-like. These are giant (30-50 ft tall) walking, flying, sometimes transforming, robot space tanks. Usually there's been war as a result, or there is still war going on. Whatever.
But it's not enough to build the ultimate super weapon that can be mass produced; you have to build the Gundam. The nigh invincible super robot space tank of legend. It's usually fairly plain looking, designed somewhat like a WWI era soldier's kit. Also no one seems to know why it's called Gundam. Whatever.
So the military, or some secret organization, spends billions in resources to make this ONE super robot space tank. Then some enemy attacks with better space robot tanks than the mass produced ones the good guys have. So the only hope is GUNDAM. Good thing they built it, causing the enemy to attack. Maybe they should try to just talk it out? Whatever.
So, only one effective weapon, the Gundam, against hundreds of enemies. It represents billions in resources and man hours to make. It is the most advanced weapon ever.
They will give it to a kid (preteen to mid teens) pilot. Because giving their only hope to a child who has no real conception of the real world, remains hopelessly idealistic, has no military training, no experience piloting a giant multi-ton walking space tank, is the last thing the enemy would think of, and therefore the best option.
Also, this super advanced walking robot space tank's best weapon is a sword (or some other 8th century weapon); it's best defense is a shield. Like, a giant metal shield. Attached to the arm. So basically, if knights from medieval times rode around inside giant robots instead of on horses, and also they were entering puberty, that's Gundam. Seriously, all the technology to make a self-powered, 30 foot tall, multi ton, flying, walking armored robot tank of annihilation, and the best weapon and defense they can invent is a sword and shield. Sometimes it's not even an energy sword. Come on.
But so that will fool the enemy for like, 5 minutes. But then they just up and kidnap the kid, because he is a kid and they are adults, and that's pretty much how that works. Sometimes the kid ends up fighting for the enemy, so good decision giving him your best weapon.
And then a lot of stuff explodes, and war is resolved.
Take Gundam-AGE for example (Advanced Gundam Evolution? Artificial Gundam Evolving? Fried Gundam?). It takes place over the course of 3 generations. Also, spoilers.
The very first gundam is made by the military with the help of a 11 year old kid. Because his parents were awesome robot designers, and genetics. But also they are dead, so the kid is better than nothing. The kid is also traumatized from seeing his parents (and indeed, entire space colony) get killed in front of his eyes by dragon-alien robot tanks. But they don't bother sending him to a psychiatrist or anything.
More dragon robots attack. This kid is the only person who can pilot the gundam, the only one of its kind because it was that expensive. I guess the military, desperate because all their weapons are totally ineffective at even scuffing the enemy, aren't desperate enough to take the KEY from the kid. So ok, no training, no association to the military, no accountability, no maturity.... but he's got spirit!
So they have adventures. It largely centers around the incredible AGE device that allows his gundam to improve.... incrementally. Also, although it can improve the space carrier, it can't do anything for the mass produced suits that are more like the gundam than the space carrier. Also, the army still sends people out in the mass produced suits, even though they literally do no damage and just explode.
Kid grows up, has a kid of his own. Joins the military, builds an even better gundam, and then gives it to his kid because 1) nepotism, and 2) it's a proven track record. Everything pretty much repeats. The son has a child, and then goes off to join pirates. So grandpa builds an even more betterer third gundam to give to the grandson, because two wrongs make a really awesome super robot space tank.
Grandson gets kidnapped and pretty much turns out to be an uber idealist. And then they all blow up all technology, and everyone learns to get along.
Anyway, it all goes to prove, exciting battles between giant super robot space tanks trumps pretty anything.
I will confess right off the bat however that I am an unashamed FAN of the anime and giant space robots in general, although not quite enough to build anything other than the chibi capsule toy ones. Also, to my knowledge, only the most recent series "Gundam Build Fighters" breaks this plot pattern - but it also deviates widely as Gundams are not actually real in the series. GBF centers around the pokemon-ing of plastic toy kits, as one would wish were true of real life.
So you've got "mobile suits" which, while mobile, are anything but suit-like. These are giant (30-50 ft tall) walking, flying, sometimes transforming, robot space tanks. Usually there's been war as a result, or there is still war going on. Whatever.
But it's not enough to build the ultimate super weapon that can be mass produced; you have to build the Gundam. The nigh invincible super robot space tank of legend. It's usually fairly plain looking, designed somewhat like a WWI era soldier's kit. Also no one seems to know why it's called Gundam. Whatever.
So the military, or some secret organization, spends billions in resources to make this ONE super robot space tank. Then some enemy attacks with better space robot tanks than the mass produced ones the good guys have. So the only hope is GUNDAM. Good thing they built it, causing the enemy to attack. Maybe they should try to just talk it out? Whatever.
So, only one effective weapon, the Gundam, against hundreds of enemies. It represents billions in resources and man hours to make. It is the most advanced weapon ever.
They will give it to a kid (preteen to mid teens) pilot. Because giving their only hope to a child who has no real conception of the real world, remains hopelessly idealistic, has no military training, no experience piloting a giant multi-ton walking space tank, is the last thing the enemy would think of, and therefore the best option.
Also, this super advanced walking robot space tank's best weapon is a sword (or some other 8th century weapon); it's best defense is a shield. Like, a giant metal shield. Attached to the arm. So basically, if knights from medieval times rode around inside giant robots instead of on horses, and also they were entering puberty, that's Gundam. Seriously, all the technology to make a self-powered, 30 foot tall, multi ton, flying, walking armored robot tank of annihilation, and the best weapon and defense they can invent is a sword and shield. Sometimes it's not even an energy sword. Come on.
But so that will fool the enemy for like, 5 minutes. But then they just up and kidnap the kid, because he is a kid and they are adults, and that's pretty much how that works. Sometimes the kid ends up fighting for the enemy, so good decision giving him your best weapon.
And then a lot of stuff explodes, and war is resolved.
Take Gundam-AGE for example (Advanced Gundam Evolution? Artificial Gundam Evolving? Fried Gundam?). It takes place over the course of 3 generations. Also, spoilers.
The very first gundam is made by the military with the help of a 11 year old kid. Because his parents were awesome robot designers, and genetics. But also they are dead, so the kid is better than nothing. The kid is also traumatized from seeing his parents (and indeed, entire space colony) get killed in front of his eyes by dragon-alien robot tanks. But they don't bother sending him to a psychiatrist or anything.
More dragon robots attack. This kid is the only person who can pilot the gundam, the only one of its kind because it was that expensive. I guess the military, desperate because all their weapons are totally ineffective at even scuffing the enemy, aren't desperate enough to take the KEY from the kid. So ok, no training, no association to the military, no accountability, no maturity.... but he's got spirit!
So they have adventures. It largely centers around the incredible AGE device that allows his gundam to improve.... incrementally. Also, although it can improve the space carrier, it can't do anything for the mass produced suits that are more like the gundam than the space carrier. Also, the army still sends people out in the mass produced suits, even though they literally do no damage and just explode.
Kid grows up, has a kid of his own. Joins the military, builds an even better gundam, and then gives it to his kid because 1) nepotism, and 2) it's a proven track record. Everything pretty much repeats. The son has a child, and then goes off to join pirates. So grandpa builds an even more betterer third gundam to give to the grandson, because two wrongs make a really awesome super robot space tank.
Grandson gets kidnapped and pretty much turns out to be an uber idealist. And then they all blow up all technology, and everyone learns to get along.
Anyway, it all goes to prove, exciting battles between giant super robot space tanks trumps pretty anything.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)