Autumn

Autumn.

Autumn happens for me thrice a year, which I suppose makes me rather special.

But for me, autumn isn't a season, a time of year or even a colour scheme - damn you, you property programs.

No, to me it's a a series of events that happen every year, where ever I've been. Each on it's own can anytime, anywhere...but they never do.

The first happened weeks ago. It's a thing of sunlight and colour - as you drive or walk somewhere, the setting sun streaming across before you. The leaves on trees all golden, yellow and red - that surprise, because you've seen one tree or two in colour - but the striking sight of them all in golden sunlight.

That moment of realisation that the end is in sight. Not here yet, or even near - but inevitable.

Sight is the first - but the second is smell. This time, here, it happened last night. Dusk, late in the afternoon...the world around you in dying shades of grey. The sun, now gone...

The mist and fog swirling - but in the air, catching at your throat like the echo of great sorrow the tang, the tickle of woodsmoke in the evening air stroking the back of your throat. Permeating the air around you, the burning of wood to drive back the cold and hunger of night.

Finally...last of all comes the moment when all around you is dark. Through the windows you see nothing but darkness and lights. Not yet six o'clock and the people hide in their homes. All desperately trying to deny the truth - that the night has won again.

That the sun and moon have lost to the stars, fleeing the sky from a terrible force they can never defeat.

Winter.

And winter is here.

The temptation to ask a question.

This morning I was working in a Sexual Health Clinic, sorting out a minor issue that required administrator rights and someone on-site to poke it till it behaved.

Anyway, I was sitting there in the office, allowing the hustle and bustle of office life to flow around me. Phones ringing, people talking...

Now - I don't know about anyone else, but I can't not understand words. If I'm there, and I can hear them clearly....even if I'm reading, typing or really not paying attention, they're still there.

It's that same trick men all over the world use - the ability to recite the last few lines of a conversation, the moment a women says "You aren't listening". We might not have been, but the words are there...

Where was I? Ah, sitting in a sexual health clinic not listening, as a phone rang.

The young lass on the picked it up..."Yes, this is a sexual health clinic...yes....yes....of course...we do everything..."

At this point I heard what she said, choked on my tea (yep, I'll happily go back to that place, they made me tea first thing on a cold Monday morning) and I resisted. It was an effort, but...well...

At that moment there was nothing I wanted to do more then turn to her and say, stressing every syllable one at a time:

"You do...Everything...?"

Zombie Films

I'm quite a zombie film fan - no, really.

There's quite a lot I enjoy about them - the madness, the weirdness...the death, destruction and mayhem...

I admit, the occasional, really scantily clad young thing does help a little - even if some of the best films don't have one.

But...well....Land of the Dead, by George A. Romero.

I'm disappointed.

No, that doesn't cover it. I'm hugely disappointed by a film that should have been an A1 film. It's..well...junk. It really is.

The early films were good as films. The first - trapped in a house, zombies coming in huge waves.

The second - a shopping mall, the perfect place to survive, or not....

The third I admit I slept through. But this? It has perhaps one interesting quality - and that's not enough to save a film. One interesting character.

This was not a film about zombies. It wasn't a film about survival, rescue or horror. There was no romance or love, no gratuitous sex scene or comedy.

Nope - this film was about social parody and statement. How the rich rule the poor.

I had hopes - really, high hopes. I thought that perhaps this film might be an intelligent treatment of how man might survive the coming zombie apocalypse. A tale of a people built on the decaying corpse of the 20th century.

A people pulling together to forge a future - if not a bright one, then at least something that only comes in shades of blood and rot.

One day, one day...

Vulnerable people...

While I was driving to a site today, I made a mistake.

Rare I know, but I'm not too proud to admit to them on those uncommon occasions.

This mistake was...well...not the first time I'd made this one. You see, I made the mistake of assuming that the recent banking crisis would be equally bad for everybody. That loosing a thousand points off the FTSE 100 would hurt everyone.

Job losses are bad for everyone in the economy, right?

Well...apparently...no. For you see, I tuned into women's hour on radio 4 part way through a program. And as far as the presenter and guest was concerned, this whole issue would hit women hardest.

They seem convinced that women would be caused immense trouble by the downturn and that now of all times their rights (guaranteed by laws, some very recent) should be protected with extra vigilance.

Now here's the thing - if the law mandates that a certain part of the population has more rights then another part, should you as an employer ignore this?

For the last I don't know how many years programs like Women's hour have campaigned for extra rights for female workers. Over time, they have got rights.

And - finally - they've appeared to realise that these rights are not cost neutral - that somewhere along the line there is some company paying for them. These companies that are struggling in the current recession.

And that this makes women more vulnerable.

But instead of addressing the core problems - that hiring replacements for women on maternity leave for a year costs money - no, instead of addressing the issue, the cause of the problem - cost - they can only suggest the wrong way.

Greater enforcement of the rules that are causing a problem that they wanted in the first place.

--

And before you start - I'm all for rights for women.

But every right has a cost. So I believe in reasonable rights.

The road to hell...

I could talk about the banking crisis. The insanity that is politics....but I'll make my point a different way.

The problem with any plan to improve the world - any part of it, from the financial system to your local street - is unexpected side effects. One cause of the sub prime mortgage mess is the US Government encouraging lending to the less well off, because owning your own home is good for society at large.

So take the game of Dungeons and Dragons - D&D. You've seen my hand wringing before about making characters, my agonising over effectiveness. So this time, for that Canadian who's smarter then me - for his game I decided to throw away efficiency - and go with the Roleplay.

We're in a swamp...surrounded with marsh and mud. About the only semi-sentient race in 20 leagues are lizard men and pirates....so lizard man it is.

Magic using lizard men are rare...so it's fighter and barbarian to choose from. But lizard men are a primitive race. They've not entirely mastered the art of fire...spears really are the height of technology...sounds perfect for a barbarian...who kills his foes with his teeth while in a killing frenzy.

Yep, very roleplay. Barbarians can't even write....perfect sense in a swamp. It'll just decay anyway...

It was at this point the DM suggested something. I'm not going to say what....but it's a little extra bit of roleplay. Took a few weeks to agree on it, as it's mostly homebrew.

So far, so good.

So I toddle along to the DM's home and arrive a little early. I make a list of everything Hrissis starts with.

It takes a whole page of paper.

Then a role some dice. In full view of everyone, I got a nice set of numbers to work with. Not unusually high. I've had better - but nothing to complain about.

So after a little work - number crunching, copying out information, thinking of a name...we have Hrissis. And once again the road to hell has found us.

Made with only the intention of being a good "roleplay" character we have Hrissis. Starting with upto three attacks (compared to the usual one) he has a standard attack of +10 (compared to the typical +9) with 1d4+6 damage, for an average of 8.5 - which is the same as for a normal barbarian. So what's so bad about this?

Why do I say he's on the pathway to hell?

Because at the drop of a hat he can go to three attacks at +12 for 1d4+8 damage. So about as good as THREE equivalent level characters.

And did I mention he's naked??

If when playing a simple game you can accidentally screw up by a factor of three - what makes governments, charities or ANYONE ELSE think they can avoid unintended side effects??