A while back I wrote a post suggesting Peter Oborne's recent radio series "Conserve What", on the nature of modern conservatism, was fairly poor, relying as it did so heavily on constructing a straw-man version of liberalism/progressivism and then defining conservatives as simply being those people who didn't like said shambling monstrosity.
I mentioned this show to C at the time, arguing that it was essentially propaganda rather than a serious political analysis, and his immediate question was "When do we get a go?"
Turns out the answer was "in about two months". Last night's Westminster Hour featured the companion piece, Richard Reeve's Political Roots.
First off, I should note that it's a little irritating that whilst conservatives got three episodes, liberals and "whatever Labour thinks they are these days" get one each. Beyond that, though, it was interesting to note how much fairer this piece was than Oborne's attempt. In truth, the actual amount of detail gone into wasn't much better that it was in Conserve What?'s first episode (almost as though 15 minutes isn't enough time to detail what liberalism is), and since I took Oborne to task for arguing conservatism isn't a philosophy but a sensibility, I should also point out Reeves' strange focus liberalism is a gut feeling rather than a considered opinion or set of dogmatic constraints. The latter isn't really something any political group is liable to lay claim to (outside of some of the more obviously lunatic members of the Republican Party), and the former is, to put it mildly, deeply unconvincing. To me part of liberalism's great strength is that it combines a deeply-held feeling that inequality and misery are bad, and then applies logical thought and expansive consideration to the question of how such things can be eliminated. I may be being unfair here, though; Reeves may simply be attempting to combat the liberal image as nothing more than stone-hearted egg-heads (and certainly he doesn't deny the rich intellectual heritage liberalism can lie claim to).
At least though a valid attempt was made to describe what liberals are, rather than just what conservatives aren't, namely people who are deeply concerned by clear inequalities in wealth and social standing, and who believe that the solution to preventing tyranny is to challenge the powerful at all times (in truth every party claims this, though not all practice it equally well), especially those powers which exist simply by force of tradition.
In fact, the only time anyone really brought up a negative comparison of conservatism was in a brief excerpt from Nick Clegg, which was immediately followed by Reeves saying something along the lines of "Of course, he would say that, wouldn't he?". It was a refreshing admission of the bias running through the program which was missing entirely from Oborne's fawning love letter.
Conservatism did come up once more, as part of an argument that "progressivism" as a label has run its course in this country, since now even Cameron is labelling himself as such. It's an interesting point, actually, though it's at least arguable that this merely indicates how deeply confused Cameron's approach (or claimed approach) to politics is. Much as with Oborne, the only way Cameron can define his approach (as indeed he did on Oborne's program) is to invent an alternative approach from whole cloth and then point out why his is better. To hear Cameron tell it, the "pure" progressive will always attempt to solve a problem by removing everything already there that can be used, so as to leave the way clear for an entirely new approach (remember Oborne's claim that removing tradition and institutions was the aim of liberals, rather than simply a price we're entirely prepared to pay in order to achieve what our actual aims are). That way he can state that his brand of conservatism will attempt to create progressive accomplishments within the framework that already exists. That is to say, he's promoting a suggestion that no rational progressive would automatically object to (though of course in any given circumstance there could be heated debate over which aspects of the current framework are and aren't necessary and do or don't do more harm than good), and is presenting it as some kind of shiny new form of revolutionary thinking. In fact, liberals might in fact take some comfort in the idea that the Conservative Party has recognised the only way back to power is to agree with us whilst pretending not to, though it would be a major surprise if Cameron's dedication to progressivism proves any less ephemeral than his definition of liberalism if and when he takes the reins of power.
All in all, it wasn't too bad, and certainly at worst was simply throwaway, rather than genuinely objectionable. So why aren't we getting more of it?
Monday, 30 November 2009
Saturday, 28 November 2009
The Shake Experiment: Here Are The Facts Part IV
Welcome to the latest in our series of pointless and surprisingly basic graph-based analyses of dairy-based drinks. Despite my accidental exposure to its indescribable horrors (described here), the marmite shake is not included in this analysis, being considered instead the first shake in the fifth and potentially final round of the experiment (options for a replacement article are currently being considered, suggestions welcome).
The latest pie chart reveals, as always, the clear superiority of chocolate. More surprising is that cakes come in 2nd, the appalling blackjack shake still proving difficult for the sweet category to recover from. Otherwise, it's business as usual, and yet another demonstration that attempting to flavour milkshakes with biscuits goes against God's plan for mankind.
The latest pie chart reveals, as always, the clear superiority of chocolate. More surprising is that cakes come in 2nd, the appalling blackjack shake still proving difficult for the sweet category to recover from. Otherwise, it's business as usual, and yet another demonstration that attempting to flavour milkshakes with biscuits goes against God's plan for mankind.
Moving onto the bar chart of shake quality deviation, we see little has changed since last time. Cake remains both highly rated and dependable, sweets remain strong but with a real risk factor. Chocolate, as always, proves a heavy hitter, and the breakfast cereal category is now even more mired in mediocrity than before.
Lastly, the satisfaction over time graph continues it's (admittedly slight) downward trend, which should help explain why I'm considering terminating the experiment at the end of this next cycle.
Friday, 27 November 2009
Electro-Crack Dealer Is Dealing You Electro-Crack
I'm ashamed to confess that Pause sent me this little Flash game back in July and I've only just around to sampling its wonders.
Said wonders are, er, wonderful. Well, pretty good anyway. It's another one of those fairly basic balance type games, up until Level 11, at which it becomes a balance game based around a Lagrange point.
This, needless to say, is full-on awesome.
Said wonders are, er, wonderful. Well, pretty good anyway. It's another one of those fairly basic balance type games, up until Level 11, at which it becomes a balance game based around a Lagrange point.
This, needless to say, is full-on awesome.
Thursday, 26 November 2009
Wednesday, 25 November 2009
Shake #29
Today's shake: Weetabix
Taste: 4
Texture: 6
Synergy: 5
Scorn: 4
Total Score: 5.25
General Comments: Remember how I said the Crunchy Nut Cornflakes shake was pretty much like drinking the milk from the bowl once you had finished said cereal?
Well, the Weetabix shake is like that too, only once I've finished a Weetabix, I really don't see any point in drinking the milk at all.
Still, at least it made me feel vaguely Christmassy.
Taste: 4
Texture: 6
Synergy: 5
Scorn: 4
Total Score: 5.25
General Comments: Remember how I said the Crunchy Nut Cornflakes shake was pretty much like drinking the milk from the bowl once you had finished said cereal?
Well, the Weetabix shake is like that too, only once I've finished a Weetabix, I really don't see any point in drinking the milk at all.
Still, at least it made me feel vaguely Christmassy.
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
The Ultimate Horror Horrifies... Ultimately
Anyone who has played Arkham Horror even in its most vanilla incarnation could be forgiven for facing the prospect of attempting it with all six expansions added in with the kind of terror usually reserved for a calamari supper with Great Cthulhu himself. The three smaller expansions can be fiddly enough, but adding three extra sections to the main board results in a game that you can't even fit on most tables, let alone play.
As a true board game lover, however, I hold it to be axiomatically true that there is no game that cannot be improved by extra bells, whistles, rules, cards and Great Old Ones (only the latter would be liable to help Monopoly beat genital torture as a choice of pastime, of course). And if I'm going to force people to sit down and grind their way through a game with a board almost longer than my arm span and with at least three dozen different decks of cards (and make no mistake, people will be forced), I figured I should put some effort into ensuring that the feat is physically possible.
The bad news is that the set-up time for this behemoth amongst games is now somewhere around the half-hour mark (and I'm guessing the time lost by doing it single-handedly is entirely compensated for by the time gained by not having to deal with constant questions or stopping people chewing on the playing pieces). The good news, though, and it is very good news, is that once the game kicks off, everything slots together perfectly.
I'm not sure I'd call it a complaint per se, but one of the comments raised by people using the Dunwich and Kingsport expansions was that their unique requirements (stopping the Dunwich Horror from rising and keeping reality-warping rifts in check, respectively) essentially forced one investigator to spend the entirety of their time in those locations, running damage control whilst the rest of the players got on with the far more glamorous job of shooting shoggoths in the face-analogue and hopping to other worlds ("glamorous" in Lovecraft's world being entirely synonymous with "physically hazardous and mentally destabilising"). I suspect that if one played with only the Innsmouth expansion, a similar problem would emerge; someone would have to stay beside Devil's Reef and make sure the Deep Ones don't get too up themselves ("The Horrors From Beyond Time That Got Too Up Themselves" being one of the best Mythos stories, obviously).
In combination, though, that need is somewhat lessened. The accumulated volume of extra Mythos cards vastly decreases the frequency with which gates appear in Dunwich, which in turn delays the arrival of the Horror itself. Similarly, since playing with all three extra boards allows the players to subtract two from their number for all rules requiring a count (I played with six characters, since that seems to be the optimal number for the basic game), the terror track fills up more slowly than would otherwise be the case, and increasing terror is what the Deep Ones are relying upon to feed their hideous appetites.
The effect of this is that Dunwich and Innsmouth can both be visited when necessary, rather than policed at all times (alas, Kingsport still requires constant supervision, which is a shame since it is in many ways the least interesting of the four towns). Not only does this afford greater flexibility, it allows the characters to concentrate on the main board, which means more dead gribblies, and more closed gates. At one point last night I actually found myself at a loss regarding character movement, since there were no open gates on the board left to deal with (had I been more even-handed with whom I had sent into other realms, of course, I would have already have won by that point).
With regard to the card-only expansions, it's worth noting that the entire game can go by without explicitly referencing them at all (the various additional items, encounter cards and so on are still likely to make an appearance, of course). Whether this allays fears about being bombarded with too much information, or irritates you over buying an expansion that might hardly feature, is up to you. Currently, I'm going with the former.
Moving away from the combined game to discuss the Innsmouth expansion on its own terms (the only expansion I hadn't played before), there is a distinct possibility that this is the best expansion so far. Whilst Dunwich essentially relegates one character to monster hoover, and Kingsport requires some kind of horribly repetitive guided tour, Innsmouth both allows exploration and action. The mid-game switch to martial law, requiring an investigator to sneak around to avoid arrest, is a particularly nice touch (it's also a wonderful nod to Dark Corners Of The Earth, still one of the best FPS games ever made, though it might have occurred in the original story as well, I haven't read it). There's also a strange sense of satisfaction to amassing enough evidence to persuade the Feds to show up and ruin Innsmouth's shit, far more than there is in killing one more monster, or visiting the Artist's Colony for the umpteenth time.
The Innsmouth Expansion also contains a personalised goal for each character. Not only do these add flavour to the characters, which until now have been relatively interchangeable (special rules notwithstanding), but unlike pretty much everything else in Arkham Horror, the conditions required to fulfil these individualised side missions are not overwhelmingly difficult. Of the seven characters I played (one of them being devoured by a Moon Beast halfway through, poor guy), two characters achieved their goal, two failed (including the replacement for the poor sod who got eaten, who arrived in the game after his failure condition had already occurred), and the remaining three were all heading towards the finish line, albeit with varying degrees of success.
Overall judgment, then? Innsmouth is a great expansion; the whole combined shebang plays very well and isn't quite as drawn-out as you might think (the game itself took me a little under four hours); and the balance between the various expansions means that it finally feels like failure is a distinct risk rather than a near-certainty. I was literally one turn away from winning the game (I had two characters about to return to Arkham through the last two gates, one of whom was the only remaining character sans gate trophy) when the Great Old One awoke (Chaugnar Faugn this time, and congratulations to the game artists for managing to come up with the most sinister rendition possible of what is essentially a fat-bastard elephant man). If only Groth, The Nemesis Moon hadn't been the Herald. If only that gate burst from a few turns earlier hadn't cost me a precious Elder Sign. If only that Moon Beast hadn't been so impossible to dodge. If only...
As a true board game lover, however, I hold it to be axiomatically true that there is no game that cannot be improved by extra bells, whistles, rules, cards and Great Old Ones (only the latter would be liable to help Monopoly beat genital torture as a choice of pastime, of course). And if I'm going to force people to sit down and grind their way through a game with a board almost longer than my arm span and with at least three dozen different decks of cards (and make no mistake, people will be forced), I figured I should put some effort into ensuring that the feat is physically possible.
The bad news is that the set-up time for this behemoth amongst games is now somewhere around the half-hour mark (and I'm guessing the time lost by doing it single-handedly is entirely compensated for by the time gained by not having to deal with constant questions or stopping people chewing on the playing pieces). The good news, though, and it is very good news, is that once the game kicks off, everything slots together perfectly.
I'm not sure I'd call it a complaint per se, but one of the comments raised by people using the Dunwich and Kingsport expansions was that their unique requirements (stopping the Dunwich Horror from rising and keeping reality-warping rifts in check, respectively) essentially forced one investigator to spend the entirety of their time in those locations, running damage control whilst the rest of the players got on with the far more glamorous job of shooting shoggoths in the face-analogue and hopping to other worlds ("glamorous" in Lovecraft's world being entirely synonymous with "physically hazardous and mentally destabilising"). I suspect that if one played with only the Innsmouth expansion, a similar problem would emerge; someone would have to stay beside Devil's Reef and make sure the Deep Ones don't get too up themselves ("The Horrors From Beyond Time That Got Too Up Themselves" being one of the best Mythos stories, obviously).
In combination, though, that need is somewhat lessened. The accumulated volume of extra Mythos cards vastly decreases the frequency with which gates appear in Dunwich, which in turn delays the arrival of the Horror itself. Similarly, since playing with all three extra boards allows the players to subtract two from their number for all rules requiring a count (I played with six characters, since that seems to be the optimal number for the basic game), the terror track fills up more slowly than would otherwise be the case, and increasing terror is what the Deep Ones are relying upon to feed their hideous appetites.
The effect of this is that Dunwich and Innsmouth can both be visited when necessary, rather than policed at all times (alas, Kingsport still requires constant supervision, which is a shame since it is in many ways the least interesting of the four towns). Not only does this afford greater flexibility, it allows the characters to concentrate on the main board, which means more dead gribblies, and more closed gates. At one point last night I actually found myself at a loss regarding character movement, since there were no open gates on the board left to deal with (had I been more even-handed with whom I had sent into other realms, of course, I would have already have won by that point).
With regard to the card-only expansions, it's worth noting that the entire game can go by without explicitly referencing them at all (the various additional items, encounter cards and so on are still likely to make an appearance, of course). Whether this allays fears about being bombarded with too much information, or irritates you over buying an expansion that might hardly feature, is up to you. Currently, I'm going with the former.
Moving away from the combined game to discuss the Innsmouth expansion on its own terms (the only expansion I hadn't played before), there is a distinct possibility that this is the best expansion so far. Whilst Dunwich essentially relegates one character to monster hoover, and Kingsport requires some kind of horribly repetitive guided tour, Innsmouth both allows exploration and action. The mid-game switch to martial law, requiring an investigator to sneak around to avoid arrest, is a particularly nice touch (it's also a wonderful nod to Dark Corners Of The Earth, still one of the best FPS games ever made, though it might have occurred in the original story as well, I haven't read it). There's also a strange sense of satisfaction to amassing enough evidence to persuade the Feds to show up and ruin Innsmouth's shit, far more than there is in killing one more monster, or visiting the Artist's Colony for the umpteenth time.
The Innsmouth Expansion also contains a personalised goal for each character. Not only do these add flavour to the characters, which until now have been relatively interchangeable (special rules notwithstanding), but unlike pretty much everything else in Arkham Horror, the conditions required to fulfil these individualised side missions are not overwhelmingly difficult. Of the seven characters I played (one of them being devoured by a Moon Beast halfway through, poor guy), two characters achieved their goal, two failed (including the replacement for the poor sod who got eaten, who arrived in the game after his failure condition had already occurred), and the remaining three were all heading towards the finish line, albeit with varying degrees of success.
Overall judgment, then? Innsmouth is a great expansion; the whole combined shebang plays very well and isn't quite as drawn-out as you might think (the game itself took me a little under four hours); and the balance between the various expansions means that it finally feels like failure is a distinct risk rather than a near-certainty. I was literally one turn away from winning the game (I had two characters about to return to Arkham through the last two gates, one of whom was the only remaining character sans gate trophy) when the Great Old One awoke (Chaugnar Faugn this time, and congratulations to the game artists for managing to come up with the most sinister rendition possible of what is essentially a fat-bastard elephant man). If only Groth, The Nemesis Moon hadn't been the Herald. If only that gate burst from a few turns earlier hadn't cost me a precious Elder Sign. If only that Moon Beast hadn't been so impossible to dodge. If only...
A Horror Beyond Your Imagining
I spent last night and some of this morning playing Arkham Horror with all six expansion packs included, mainly to check whether or not it was feasible to do so without dedicating an entire month to the proceedings.
I'll post up some comments on how it went later, but for now I just wanted to ask the following question: would even the total destruction of mankind by the sanity-blasting forces of chaotic darkness be enough convince Stan Lee to join forces with Cherie Blair?
Having said that, he doesn't seem too in to it, does he?
I'll post up some comments on how it went later, but for now I just wanted to ask the following question: would even the total destruction of mankind by the sanity-blasting forces of chaotic darkness be enough convince Stan Lee to join forces with Cherie Blair?
Having said that, he doesn't seem too in to it, does he?
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)