ursula: Sheep knitting, from the Alice books (sheep)
Does anyone have a good digital art tutorial in static form (essays, pictures, books, links)? I can tell that I'm still treating digital painting as if it were literally painting. This has its own charm sometimes! But I'd like to be able to make more polished pieces, too.
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Give me a topic, and I'll post about it in January?
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I posted my Twine game, Eyes of Tree, to itch.io!


You go outside near twilight or near dawn. You lie flat on your back in the bracken and look up. You can see the edge of the sun's disk, falling below or rising above another hill. You look straight into it. It cannot harm the person you are now.

Loving the Lady under the Hill has a steep price. This game is about what happens after you have paid it.


In the process of formatting for publication, I learned some css and scanned some linocuts I made in grad school: self-publishing is a game of many crafts!
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[personal profile] glasseye, our friend L., and I had a quiet Thanksgiving, in which we ate baked goods (pumpkin rolls from L., ginger parsnip cake courtesy of a link from [personal profile] kaberett, and mushroom turnovers) and Brussels sprouts and a medieval Andalusian lamb dish, and then watched [personal profile] glasseye play the Untitled Goose Game.

Medieval-ish Thanksgiving

A while ago, I wrote a story for [personal profile] vass that involved the apocryphal legend of Susannah. I got wrapped up in trying to write an evocative sentence about the mastic tree, because that's the sort of thing that happens when you're writing historical fiction. Since I had invested all that mental effort, I also bought some mastic. It's crystallized sap that smells like high-pitched, sour pine:

Mastic

Today I finally cooked with some of it! I chose a recipe from Andalusia, translated by Charles Perry and indexed on Medieval Cookery:


Dish of Meat with Walnuts and Mastic. Cut up the meat, after boiling it, and put with it half a dirham of mastic, pepper, cinnamon, lavender, garlic, rue, a little vinegar, oil, salt, whole onions, head (and) greens (or: whole green onions) and a little water. When you have done this, pound walnuts smoothly and pulverize them until they are white and thickened and throw into the pot and stir until they give out their oil and serve on walnut leaves; cover the contents of the pot with an egg and pour it out, sprinkle with pepper and spices and serve it, God willing.


My variant uses lots of modern time-saving appliances. It omits the lavender and rue because I didn't have any, and omits the egg due to a personal dietary restriction. Here's the way I would do it, next time:

recipe )

This time I used 1/4 cup of champagne vinegar and then back-sweetened with a tablespoon of honey because the vinegar seemed too intense, even after simmering for quite a while. The result was very tasty, and it's a plausible medieval technique, but I prefer sticking closer to medieval recipe ingredients when I can.

This is good hot, but actually even better when it cools off a bit and the flavor of the walnuts comes through. I used to love a Persian spread for crackers made from walnuts and feta, and this has a very similar flavor profile. The sweet and sour combination means that it's also good with cranberry sauce!
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I made harira with lamb and kale for [personal profile] glasseye's birthday, with greatly appreciated assistance from his mother:

lamb harira

I adapted a recipe from Paula Wolfert's Food of Morocco, making fairly significant changes. The two big ones in terms of technique are that I converted for the Instant Pot and I didn't add a thickening agent to the broth. (The latter shortcut might make this technically not a harira, since they are supposed to be silky! I personally like soupier soups, though.)

Here's my recipe:

recipe )
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fiction in progress

Neal Stephenson, Fall, or Dodge in Hell. I'm kind of enjoying the sections that the title references, though Dodge's work background does seem oddly convenient.

Fonda Lee, Jade War. Really interesting balance between violence and ordinary family life, here. I'm not yet far enough to see the shape of the story.
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My first AMS Feature Column, Topological Quantum Field Theory for Vampires is now live, with art from [personal profile] cassyblue. Thank you to everyone who helped me workshop this!
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I brought Gennoveus home this evening! He is approximately two years old, purrs very loudly, and has a name taken from an inscription found in early medieval Brittany (in one of [personal profile] hrj's articles).

IMG_20190930_205728

IMG_20190930_211400
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I read Marie Brennan's Turning Darkness Into Light courtesy of Netgalley.

This is a novel about Lady Trent's granddaughter Audrey, who is recruited to translate a sequence of Draconean tablets belonging to a private collector. The novel takes the form of diary entries, letters, translated excerpts, police reports, and so forth. I definitely classify "getting to be the first translator of an important ancient text" as an escapist fantasy; if you are in the same camp, this book will deliver good, fluffy amusement. (For reasons of literary exigency, the text itself is rather more coherent and rather less bloodthirsty than most of the ancient literature with which I am familiar).

The general villain of the story is prejudice against Draconeans, but the specific villain is Aaron Mornett, a beautiful young man who is "not a reputable scholar." Audrey's mixed feelings about Aaron Mornett are effectively and compellingly represented. I wasn't inclined to be all that patient with them as a reader, though: I've spent my fair share of time dealing with brilliant, entitled young men in the real world, and don't need to be assured that they really are that awful.

Aaron Mornett's opposite is Cora Fitzarthur, the painstaking niece of the man who collected the Draconean tablets. I hoped for a while that Audrey and Cora would fall in love: the way Audrey learns to trust her is so obviously a parallel to the way she learns distrust of Aaron. Also, I grew up on novels about the trials of being an orphan who becomes the ward to someone terrible. I would have liked to read more about Cora's tribulations, or, failing that, about her newfound expertise in volcanoes. Instead, the book ends with revelations about Draconeans, politics, and a surprising amount of violence and rushing about. (And, of course, with footnotes, which are not to be skipped.)

poem post

Jul. 30th, 2019 08:01 am
ursula: second-century Roman glass die (icosahedron)
My poem "Tuesday" is now up at The Journal of Humanistic Mathematics.
ursula: Sheep knitting, from the Alice books (sheep)
I skipped this weekend's SCA event because I have a cold, the inevitable result of too much time spent in airports, and am feeling dull and dragging. Instead, I listened to music and sewed in all the ends on the gloves for [personal profile] redsixwing:

fox gloves

fox gloves

(I will mail them on Monday, I promise!)

Then I pondered my next project. I think I want to make an actual sweater for myself, which I haven't done in a long time. I dug through lots and lots of cabled cardigans on Ravelry, and eventually settled on either Cassidy or Central Park. There are two salient differences that aren't obvious from images of the cable patterns. One is that Cassidy has waist shaping, while Central Park has a rectangular body. The other is that the smaller sizes of Cassidy are separated by two-inch increments, while Central Park sizes up four inches at a time. I am really not used to thinking about knitting for positive ease--with gloves and socks you typically want to make something a bit smaller than the body for which it's intended, to allow for stretching, whereas sweaters can drape--but it looks to me as if I could knit Cassidy for myself as written, but would have to alter Central Park to get an intermediate size.

I'm now debating whether I have the energy to hike to the yarn store (it's about two miles away, and I don't really know how to park nearby), or whether I can bear to wait an entire week before I have time to drop by after work. (Obviously one can buy yarn online, but this will be a long and slow enough project that I'd rather buy materials I love to touch, which is easier judged in person.)
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This Is How You Lose the Time War
Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

This book is made of words.

Depending on your preferred flavor of literalism, I imagine you are now protesting either, "But so is every book," or, "Strictly speaking, this book is made of 1s and 0s encoded in the circuits of your phone." I mean something specific by my claim, though: certain sound-focused writers, especially science fiction poets (Amal El-Mohtar, Sonya Taaffe, Yoon Ha Lee sometimes) pile word on coruscating word, glistering. If you're an image-focused reader like me, the effect can be almost too much: each word is its own picture, layered, overbalancing. I worried about that effect, approaching This Is How You Lose the Time War: would I be overwhelmed? Certainly this is a book focused on individual words and associated separate images--agents braid time and dance through it, and you never quite learn how or wherefore, the process is the point--but I had underestimated the sheer exuberant fun of it. This Is How You Lose the Time War is an accurate title: it's a dare, from one agent in that time war to another.

It took me a little while to settle into reading, in large part because I was trying to sort out the differences between the two characters: one woman is named Red and the other Blue, and about half the book is letters from Red to Blue about what Blue might be doing or vice versa, so it's easy to coast along in ambiguity. I eventually--more slowly than might seem warranted--arrived at the mnemonic that blue is like green and Blue is from the Garden future, where everything is more or less a growing plant. Meanwhile, Red is from a future of machines and artificially enhanced intelligences.

Red's first letters to Blue are aggressively silly (timey-wimey something something). The book's first shift in tone involves a ridiculous, over-the-top, embodied pun. I was hooked in around that point, the moment that Red and Blue shift from writing to each other as enemies to writing as rivals who might understand one another. The story shifts again after Red's superior, the Commandant, realizes that an agent from the other faction has taken an interest in her, and shifts once more as Red reacts to Blue's reaction. Somewhere in there I started sending my friends messages consisting entirely of exclamation marks.

The ending is complete unto itself: the promise of a love story and the promise of a universes-spanning, time-spanning rivalry, woven in together.

(This review is based on an ARC from Netgalley.)
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I received a review copy of Yoon Ha Lee's Hexarchate Stories from Netgalley.

Many of the Hexarchate Stories center on details of Cheris or Jedao's early life. They're sweet on their own, or filled with doom if you start thinking about the fates of Cheris and Jedao's families. Jedao's family menagerie often appears, including his mother's geese and a laid-back, tractable cat (I expected said cat to end up having kittens on a pile of clothes in the back of someone's closet, but apparently that memory belongs only to my childhood, not to Jedao's). Of the domestic stories, one from Jedao's older brother's point of view and another about Cheris's birthday particularly stand out.

The final story is "Glass Cannon," a novella which picks up a few years after Revenant Gun left off. Much of "Glass Cannon" is straight-up adventure, echoing the exuberant action scenes of the beginning of Revenant Gun. I was spoiled... )

poem sale

May. 14th, 2019 09:21 am
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My dystopian Wisconsin math poem "Circle packing" is coming out in the anthology Rosalind's Siblings, edited by Bogi Takács.
ursula: second-century Roman glass die (icosahedron)
[personal profile] yhlee asked for a math-check of this Tumblr post. Here are some thoughts!

I've seen a few variants on this string of jokes; in particular, I'm pretty sure that the claim that behold the field... )

I need to catch a plane, so I'm not going to talk about why people care about fields or Banach spaces right this second, but you should ask me those questions in comments!
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Tade Thompson's novel Rosewater is named after a city that has grown up around an alien edifice somewhere in Nigeria. Scenes before the edifice grew are intermingled with scenes that come after. The viewpoint character, Kaaro, is an interesting sort of antihero. Maybe I should say he's straight-up aheroic. He dislikes violence and avoids carrying a gun, but he is also inclined to shirk responsibility in small and large ways. His stealing in the earlier timeline seems like the kind of awful teenage choice people I care about have made. Some of the choices Kaaro makes in the alien-mediated psychic realm were harder for me to handle. This isn't a book that minds making readers ill-at-ease, though. If you weren't ever disconcerted, maybe it would have failed you.

The later-timeline Kaaro struck me as deeply, quietly depressed. I wondered for a long time whether he would align with the aliens, or with one of the groups trying to exploit or control them. In the end, Kaaro doesn't choose either option. He simply decides that he wants to be alive, and to be engaged with the world. This is mediated mostly through the woman he's in love with, and it's hard to say whether this resolve will stick once the new-relationship glow wears off. Maybe? They have compatible levels of weird secrets.

All of the women in Rosewater are intense, strong-minded, ambitious people. They know what they want, in a way that Kaaro often doesn't. I liked them very much; I particularly enjoyed a conversation Kaaro has with the brilliant engineer Oyin Da about what fraction of her has become alien and what fraction of her has turned into a robot. I wondered about the pattern, though, where the man gets to be feckless and uncertain, while the women are all strong. I've noticed it often before in comic novels--Pratchett in particular tends this way--and though I like all the tough complicated interesting women as individuals, in aggregate I sometimes wonder what this authorial choice says about who gets to be ordinary. It's a trickier pattern to criticize because fecklessness does have different costs, depending on who you are. That's why Kaaro's relentless refusal to play the hero matters, in the first place.

(Review based on a NetGalley copy.)
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I've been doing a lot of reading lately around violent resistance, nonviolent resistance, and counterinsurgency. This involves a lot of thinking about how ordinary people respond when they don't feel safe, and how those reactions can be shaped or exploited.

Here's an annotated bibliography/suggested reading list.

accessible introductions

These books make an emotional case using history and evocative personal anecdotes. I sometimes wished for a more nuanced, scholarly approach, but they are good places to get started.

Dave Grossman, On Killing. Grossman argues that the US military has become more effective at training soldiers to kill people, and describes the psychological cost. (Depending on the edition, this book may have a strikingly racist introduction about violent video games; Grossman has been involved in militarization of US police forces, so reading this book from a peace perspective is in some ways a matter of knowing one's enemy.)

Srdja Popovic, Blueprint for Revolution: How to Use Rice Pudding, Lego Men, and Other Nonviolent Techniques to Galvanize Communities, Overthrow Dictators, or Simply Change the World. Popovic is one of the founders of Otpor!, a group that successfully pushed to overthrow Slobodan Milošević in Serbia. He writes about the techniques Otpor! used and their application in other conflicts.

between theory and practice

David Kilcullen, The Accidental Guerrilla. Kilcullen is an Australian counterinsurgency expert who advised US forces in Iraq and Afghanistan. He writes in a compelling way about how small-scale conflicts become intertwined with large ones, often using examples from his own work. This book focuses on Afghanistan, and is a good introduction to Kilcullen's theory of counterinsurgency.

theoretical structures

These books provide new tools for thinking about how power structures work. They are serious works of political science that incorporate detailed discussion of alternative hypotheses, lengthy footnotes, and so forth. I recommend them highly, with the caveat that my bar for dense theoretical writing is quite high (I actually think these are quite readable, but that's in comparison to, say, the historiography of late antiquity).

Erica Chenoweth and Maria Stephan, Why Civil Resistance Works. Chenoweth and Stephan argue that nonviolent resistance is more effective than violent resistance in creating lasting political change. They construct a theoretical framework and use it to analyze multiple cases of resistance, both successful and unsuccessful.

Stathis Kalyvas, The Logic of Violence in Civil War. Kalyvas theorizes that violence against civilians is most likely to occur in areas of "contested control", where armed groups are actively competing for power. He tests his theory using data from Greece.

further reading

Amelia Hoover Green, The Commander's Dilemma. Hoover Green is interested in measuring both lethal and non-lethal violence against civilians. The commander's dilemma is training soldiers to kill without inspiring them to indiscriminate violence. Hoover Green argues that institutionalized training can change the "repertoire" of violence that a force uses (or refrains from using) against civilians, using El Salvador as a case study.

David Kilcullen, Blood Year. What went wrong in Syria.

David Kilcullen, Counterinsurgency. A collection of Kilcullen's articles. The description of his experiences as part of a peacekeeping force in East Timor is particularly interesting.

David Kilcullen, Out of the Mountains. Argues that we should anticipate modern, interconnected, urban warfare where the line between institutional/state and independent actors is not clear. Case studies include Kingston (Jamaica), Mogadishu, and Bombay.

Carlos Marighella, Minimanual of the Urban Guerrilla. 1960s training manual for leftist insurgents.

Anna Politkovskaya, A Small Corner of Hell. The war in Chechnya, as experienced by ordinary people. Politkovskaya was later murdered for her reporting. Review here.

US Army Sergeants Major Academy, Long Hard Road: NCO Experiences in Afghanistan and Iraq. First-person accounts by non-commissioned officers who served in a variety of roles.
ursula: second-century Roman glass die (icosahedron)

  • "Don't help any babies!"
  • "I feel like we should not all die. That would be good."
  • "I'm talking about the vibrations in your spirit."
    "I must have a very dry spirit."
  • "We're making rolls to get on someone's Outlook calendar."
  • "Humans do live in the result of a giant apocalypse."
    "Are we talking in game, or out of game?"
    "I'm not sure."
  • [gagging sounds]
    "This is not a musical about a pizza guy!"
  • "Who do we worship, asks the priest of Tlaloc!"

podcast

Apr. 11th, 2019 08:57 pm
ursula: second-century Roman glass die (icosahedron)
My interview for the "My Favorite Theorem" podcast went live today! Here's Evelyn Lamb's blog post about the episode, mirror symmetry, and ramen, and here is the episode and a transcript.

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