Unwise Adventures 2

As promised, a picture of me communing with nature (and by "communing with" I mean "bribing shamelessly").

Also featured (with her permission), the somewhat more photogenic Ibb, once I had finally persuaded her that the lorikeets were unlikely to try to savage her.


Not featured: BigHead, who was apparently convinced the birds were just waiting for the right moment to mug him. It's sad what an upbringing in Teesside can do to you.

The Space Squids Part 2: The Twenty-Third Founding

Creating a new Space Marine Chapter is not an easy thing. Strangely, perhaps the simplest stage is the agonisingly long and difficult process of compiling the gene seeds necessary for such an endeavour. Whilst each Astartes Chapter is obligated to regularly send genetic samples to the Adeptus Mechanicus, in part for this very purpose, the Space Marines are proud and aloof, and above all independent in the way that only they can afford to be. Even when they deign to pay their tithes, each seed must be exhaustively studied to ensure it is free of mutation or other taint, a process which the material itself does not invariably (or even often) survive intact. Finally (though least problematically), the genetic stockpiles must be sorted by Primarch.

These, however, are simply issues of time and of patience. Eventually sufficient gene-seed will be available for the creation of one thousand new Space Marine warriors. It is at this point that things become truly difficult.

It is not always true that savage martial prowess precludes discipline, but the inverse correlation is sufficiently high to be a genuine problem. Taking a thousand feral tribesmen or Deathworld survivors and turning them all into super-human killing machines is all very well, but the end result is not an army, it is a mob; a terrifyingly destructive mob that has only ever known killing, and is delighted to have suddenly become so much better at it.

Thus, the new recruits must be tempered, guided in the best way to do their duty, taught to see their fellows as brothers in arms, rather than rivals, meals or even, occasionally, clothing. Added to this problem is the fact that persuading the initiates to undergo the honour in the first place is next to impossible, unless other Space Marines are the ones doing the "persuading". The martial societies (to the extent to which the latter term is appropriate) that provide the best raw material also tend to resist having the concept of the Adeptus Astartes explained to them by Imperial Missionaries or clanking Tech Adepts.

The only solution is to attach a number of more experienced Space Marines to the nascent Chapter. This is not even remotely as easy as it sounds. There exist no force in the Imperium less willing to see themselves as part of a whole than an Astartes Chapter. A Catachan would mutter threats of violence were he forced to join a regiment of Drookians, a Battle Sister would likely refuse point-blank to change from one Order to another, no matter who issued the command. A Space Marine's response, however, is not one that bears thinking about. The history of the Imperium contains all too many references to Chapters allowing themselves to become extinct rather than retreat, or join with other Chapters. The colours of a marine's Chapter is a source of almost psychotic pride. It is fortunate indeed that Foundings are so rare an occurrence, for finding the necessary genetic material is child's play compared to locating enough Space Marines to form an Officer's Corps for a new Chapter. This was the dilemma faced during the Twenty-Fourth founding in M38.

In the case of the Krakens of Greyjoy salvation came from the remnants of the very Chapter they had been created to replace. The fleet-borne Emperor's Shields Chapter, already severely under-strength following Waaagh! Dedtoof, found themselves under attack from the Apostles Of Minthras Traitor Chapter whilst in the final stages of regrouping their fleet at Raxos. Only a single Thunderhawk Gunship, carrying thirty battle brothers, escaped the resulting conflagration, either through carelessness on the part of the Apostles, or perhaps as a deliberate humiliation.

Most of those Marines who survived wished to attempt to board and repair the nearest intact escort vessel and follow the Apostles' fleet to their base, before attempting to gain their revenge there. Brother-Captain Rekasson, however, who now held the sorrowful distinction of being the the Chapter's most senior officer, realised that such an action would be simple folly. If they were to gain their revenge, it could not be on such unfavourable terms. If he was to join his brothers in death, he had no intention of telling them that they were unavenged. When the Adeptus Mechanicus offered Rekasson and his band of warriors an entire Chapter, raised from the savage inhabitants of the world of Four Feathers, he realised that he would have his instrument of vengeance, and that the Apostle's days were numbered. Thus did Brother-Captain Rekasson of the Emperor's Shields become Chapter Master Rekasson of the Krakens of Greyjoy, and the long tale of the Space Squids begin.

Emperor's Shield Veteran Sergeant Gundersson, one of the thirty survivors of the Battle of Raxos.

I Demand Action!

Ladies and gentlemen, a new enemy has reared its head. Like all the very worst enemies, this one comes cloaked in the guise of a friend.

I speak, of course, of Sainsbury's Stuffed Crust Cheese Feast Pizzas. These delightful discs of dairy-based deliciousness have been in tragically short supply lately. I have recently learned this was to allow for a new recipe to be finalised.

Now, I am not adverse to change per se, but this new so-called "stuffed crust" will not be tolerated. At best, the crust of this half-formed aberration could be considered almost full. Approaching capacity. Not much room inside.

This is not why I buy stuffed crust pizzas. When I tear such a treat into into irregular slices, I want to feel there is a very real chance that the crust is so stuffed, the simple act of breaching it's crisp walls will lead to a cheese explosion, which will send strands of hot cheese in all directions, burning and maiming those who have not built up a tolerance to scalding dairy produce, as I have. I want to spend each bite questioning the very laws of physics, convinced that they could not allow so much cheese to be contained within such a small space. I want my crust to be a motherfucking TARDIS.

Now, I'm not suggesting we boycott Sainsbury's, or track down those responsible for this horror and garrote them with cheese strings, but I do ask that the next time you drive past an outpost of the offending party, you shake your fists in rage. I think they'll get the message.

They fucking better do, anyway. Except for coffee and booze and sleep and being mean to people, cheese is all that gets me through the day.

Shake #10

Today's shake: Fig Roll

Taste: 3
Texture:3
Scorn:3
Synergy:2
Total Score: 3.75

General Comments: Once again I seem to have under-scorned. Initially, I assumed that fig would go relatively well with ice-cream, and that the comparatively soft nature of the fig roll biscuit would prevent further lacerations of my palette.

Alas, I was a fool. Fig is too tart to combine well with ice-cream, the overall taste forces your senses to arbitrarily choose between the two flavours and then attempt to shut out the interloper, an attempt which is disappointingly never successful. Further, one thing you never realise about the biscuit covering of a fig roll is that it is mainly there to prevent the bits of fruit from wedging themselves in your teeth and refusing to come out, like squishy brown limpets. With this protective barrier destroyed in the blending process, frequent pauses must be made to desperately keep one's teeth clear of invaders.

Avoid.

It's Never Wise To Over-Stimulate Conservatives

Just as an addition to Tomsk's post last week on conservatives being really dumb about money:

With the economy showing signs of recovery, fiscally conservative economists and Republican lawmakers are suggesting that the large unspent portion of the nearly $800 billion stimulus fund should be redirected to slash this year's nearly $2 trillion annual deficit.

Democratic lawmakers, Obama administration officials and many economists doubt the wisdom of truncating the stimulus program so soon after it began. But Republican congressmen and economists who were not thrilled with the stimulus effort are increasingly calling for it to be foreshortened as a return to economic growth appears closer at hand.

To summarise, the GOP argued the stimulus wouldn't work. Now, they say that since it's starting to work, it's time to stop it.

I've been watching a lot of House recently, so it's hard for me to not see this as a terminally ill patient initially refusing medication because they don't believe it will work. Then, having been forced to take the treatment, they concede that they feel a little bit further from agonising death, and that therefore they clearly no longer need medication.

h/t to Steve Benen.

Comparitisation

By e-mail Chemie sent me a three part article by Peter Baldwin comparing Europe to America.

The overall argument is that on any given issue, America lies within a spectrum of the European countries, making much of our kvetching about our friends across the Atlantic inaccurate.

To be honest, I'm not entirely unsympathetic to this idea in theory. There are a lot of misunderstandings and factoids floating around regarding the U.S. I'm not sure Baldwin's article really helps with any of that, though. Mainly, this is because his method of comparison means not only can Baldwin pull the trick of matching America to whichever European country he like for each concept, but he can completely ignore the fact that America's problems lie in their particular combination of factors. To use a very dumb analogy, he's arguing that because the UK has more sulphur, Sweden has more potassium, and Germany has more charcoal, it is silly to suggest that the US has more gunpowder than anywhere else. Or, to be more appropriate, he's ignoring that the American health-care crisis is born from the fact that despite the US spending more per capita on health-care than we do, you can't get access to a lot of that unless you have health insurance. The guaranteed access to the NHS in this country is also a reason why pointing out the US spends more per capita on unemployment benefits is pretty pointless (and that's before we even get into the fact that there are plenty of other considerations regarding unemployment benefit that are ignored, most importantly how easy they are to qualify for and for how long they last.). Lastly on this subject, it seems to me that conflating comprehensive access to health-care with the survival rates for specific illnesses is a particularly bullshit move.

I'd also argue that a country that spends more per student than any country in Europe and still have a mediocre literacy rate is not evidence that their education system is better than people think (any more than spending more on health-care for worse results). His decision to consider the American system on mass rather than state by state also means he can bypass the fact that there are many places (the District of Columbia, for example) that are absolutely screwed education wise. If he were to cross-reference each American state with each European country, the result might be very different.

Finally, of course, it's worth noting that when people compare the U.S. to "Europe", they almost universally mean "Western Europe". This is a somewhat unfortunate and egocentric conceit (of which I'm sure I am guilty), but that does not make it any less the case. Pointing out that America does better than certain Eastern European countries, then, seems rather irrelevant to the debate as it is generally considered.

In Which I Add My Voice To The "Ed Whelan Is A Prick" Choir

While I may technically be an anonymous blogger, my identity is so ludicrously easy to ascertain (from my e-mail address, for one), and my daily hit rate so modest, that I think I can comment on recent events without it seeming particularly self-serving.

Ed Whelan is a prick. There's very little more to be said about him. Responding to having his arguments mocked by arbitrarily punishing the mocker is the action of an obvious twat. The real clue to his douche-osity, though, is in his follow-up.

A blogger may choose to blog under a pseudonym for any of various self-serving reasons, from the compelling (e.g., genuine concerns about personal safety) to the respectable to the base. But setting aside the extraordinary circumstances in which the reason to use a pseudonym would be compelling, I don’t see why anyone else has any obligation to respect the blogger’s self-serving decision.

This is exactly the sort of argument I despise. Absent a verifiable obligation to respect someone's wishes, it goes, there's nothing wrong with violating them on a whim. It's the stunted offspring of the "If it's not illegal, it's not immoral" pseudo-argument which is all that allows 99% of politicians to look at themselves in the mirror. If all you have to justify what you've done is there was nothing to stop you doing it, you need to seriously consider the possibility that you're just an arsehole, especially if the reason you did do it was out of wounded pride.

Update: Credit where it's due, Whelan has now directly apologised to publius.