Brief thoughts, triggered by a discussion. The other person is Christian, hence I neglected to generalize my comparison to all religions, but that's not important. What is important is that the concept of atheism is poorly understood. In discussions of atheism, a commonly seen refrain is, "Atheism is simply the lack of belief in a God." While basically true, this definition is shallow and open to misconceptions. By expanding a little on the concept of atheism, I hope to reduce its ambiguity, and shed some insight on what it means to be an atheist.
What are the consequences of disbelief? Well, to examine that, I need to present a comparison with the consequences of belief. There is something extremely comforting about belief in God, and that is the idea that humanity's existence has a meaning preordained by God. We are special, because God made us, because God says we are special, because God cares about us. And with that comfort comes the responsibility to obey the laws God laid down in time immemorial, because that is how humanity is expected to express its meaning. I won't get into arguments about inherent sin and how that affects the meaning of humanity and so on, because that is an extremely deep topic, and not central to what I'm trying to say anyway.
So that's the basic scenario from a believer's viewpoint. What happens when we take the belief in God away? First, we remove life's preordained meaning. Some people just stop there, and wallow in the apparent meaninglessness of life without God. Christians mock them, and deservedly so. But I want to talk about atheism, not nihilism, so let's look at the rest.
Lacking belief in any divinely inspired meaning to life, and unwilling to believe that there is no meaning to life, these people are left to determine the meaning of life for themselves. Another target for Christian mockery--they think people choose atheism simply to get away from the strictures and morals of faith, and do whatever they want under the guise of relativist morality. Maybe some do. But that is a child's conception of freedom. With the freedom of self-determination comes the responsibility to seek a productive, beneficial, and meaningful philosophy of life, and to live up to that philosophy as best one can. In my view, it is this essential recognition--that the right to think independently carries the obligation to think carefully--that makes atheism a viable, positive way of life rather than a mere denial of religion.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
And Now For Something Completely Different
...or maybe not. Honestly, I'm a math major, but whenever interesting research comes up, it's about biology (heck, this is the first post on my blog that even has the "math" tag). Is it that the barrier to entry for interesting math research is way, way too high for me? Probably. I could post about how interesting I find the Twin Prime Conjecture and the Riemann Hypothesis and infinitely differentiable Riemannian manifolds (Bozhe moi), but I'd just be doing a vaguely boring rehash in most cases. Oh, exception: I find it really neat that the Cantor set contains an uncountably infinite number of points (and the proof of this is really neat, too, and illuminates the name 'Cantor ternary set'), that these points are arranged in segments, and that it still has measure 0 (that is, if you add up the length of all the segments in the set, it sums to 0). Fractals = mindscrew.
This brings me neatly to the subject of evolution. No, really. Woese and Goldenfeld claim that collective evolution, mediated by lateral gene transfer, should dominate our understanding of the formation of genetic novelty in early life. I'd try to give a better summary the way I did last time, but the topic is too big and the paper is too small and I just don't know enough. Upshot: I need to start taking biology again next semester. Oh, and there's a new paradigm of understanding biological innovation and all that.
Query: I seem to recall that some 5-8% of the human genome is sourced from endogenous retroviral DNA...in light of that, how should the collective view of evolution described above influence our understanding of the interaction between extremely complex organisms (like us) and extremely simple ones (like the virii)? Also, can I use virii as a word? Some things to look into.
This brings me neatly to the subject of evolution. No, really. Woese and Goldenfeld claim that collective evolution, mediated by lateral gene transfer, should dominate our understanding of the formation of genetic novelty in early life. I'd try to give a better summary the way I did last time, but the topic is too big and the paper is too small and I just don't know enough. Upshot: I need to start taking biology again next semester. Oh, and there's a new paradigm of understanding biological innovation and all that.
Query: I seem to recall that some 5-8% of the human genome is sourced from endogenous retroviral DNA...in light of that, how should the collective view of evolution described above influence our understanding of the interaction between extremely complex organisms (like us) and extremely simple ones (like the virii)? Also, can I use virii as a word? Some things to look into.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
You know you're a nerd when...
Since I made a nice long compilation of these, I figure I might as well put them somewhere convenient. Here goes.
You know you're a nerd when...
When you write page-long Facebook comments about *serious business*. Heck, when you write page-long Facebook *anything* about serious business.
When your choice of favorite hang-out ends with a TLD.
When Feynman is a household name.
When you verbalize your actions with Net slang. A laugh is just a 'lol', a sigh is just a *sigh*...
When the Rules of the Internet are more familiar to you than the Rules of Fight Club.
When you go to Sporcle to train.
When you prefer Primer to Avatar.
When Neo first shows off his powers irl and you think, "Oh shit, they're embedded in nested Matrices!"
When you are ashamed of your sesquipedalian loquaciousness.
When you decide that referencing xkcd for nerd cred is cheating.
When you bet on the inclusion of one preposition in one line of one book. (It's "Aragorn sped *on* up the hill." Obviously.)
When Twenty Questions really means "Keep asking till you give up."
When the food is problematic.
When you cannot get through the day without your fix of silly cats.
Alternatively, when you disdain silly cats, but think silly dogs are the shit.
When you're good friends with someone you've never met in meatspace.
When you're at the bookstore, and start riffling through a book to see if you want to buy it...and realize, a while later, that it would be pointless to buy a book you've already read, and also that the sun's gone down.
When you consciously verb nouns. Double points if that makes you think of Calvin and Hobbes.
When you make sure your [sarc][/sarc] tags are properly formatted.
When weirdness becomes a goal to attain rather than a quality to shun.
When you are a Timmy, Johnny, or Spike. Melvin or Vorthos? Okay, now you're just a smartass.
When the fate of your debate rests on a fictional planetary ecologist.
When you feel a compulsive need to use xor to remove logical ambiguity.
When you are familiar with the Laws of Poe, Sturgeon, Godwin, Moore, and Finagle.
When TV Tropes ruins your vocabulary.
When you describe Jesus as a subclass of God that implements the Human interface.
When the zeta function is elementary. (Except when it isn't.)
When you think that Transcendentalists must not have liked polynomials very much.
When you worry about the effects of drunkenness on your mental math.
When your response to use of the words pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, electrophotomicrographically, and floccinaucinihilipilification is something other than "Gesundheit".
When you worry about your use of the Oxford comma.
When your reaction to hearing about Homo floresiensis is to muse that Tolkien was telling the truth all along.
When you join a party by making a charsheet.
When you realize that the Ringworld is unstable.
When you consider the joke "there are 10 types of people in this world, those who understand binary and those who don't," and its higher-base variations, to be old hat.
When your chat with a friend bounces between nontrivial reasoning in philosophical thought experiments and appropriate balance for interacting feats/spells in D&D.
When you start dismissing nerdy pickup lines because the math/science involved is too elementary.
When, in your conversations, the term "lawyer" refers to a gaming pedant rather than the profession.
When the Chinese in Firefly breaks immersion because it's really BAD Chinese, or the dialect changes mid-episode.
When your bedside table reading pile is really a bedside table, three desk shelves, the top of your clothes drawer, and the lower bed bunk--and you leave the room at 3 AM to go find a different book.
When you lose The Game.
When you feel a little sad inside that someone, somewhere, knows more digits of Pi than you.
When hearing a relatively obscure mathematical term causes you to break out in song (Mandelbrot set, anyone? Bonus points if you started singing on 'Julia set' instead).
When you sit down to read all the goddamn codex entries in Dragon Age.
When you start min/maxing your Pokemon's attributes.
When you've been clicking on the 'random article' button for the last two hours.
When you find yourself having to choose between chess and go for the next game.
When you lol irl.
When people compliment you on your Renfaire or cosplay costume.
When you are genuinely outraged that Tom Bombadil got replaced by a random encounter with wood-elves, and then wonder whether those wood-elves were more likely to be Sindarin or Noldorin.
When you have tried to memorize the elements...lyrically.
When you show up to your school's traditional first-day hazing...wearing your self-made chainmaille coif.
When Quenya is your second language.
When you rack your brains thinking of ways to contribute to this list.
********************************************
(note: about 95% of these are actual self-reference, but not all.)
More will be added below when appropriate.
If, at any time during the last 525,600 minutes, you have mused on the diminishing cost of a gigabyte of memory...you might be a nerd.
Related: The probability that you are a nerd increases asymptotically to 1 with the number of arbitrary unit conversions you have memorized.
You know you're a nerd when...
When you write page-long Facebook comments about *serious business*. Heck, when you write page-long Facebook *anything* about serious business.
When your choice of favorite hang-out ends with a TLD.
When Feynman is a household name.
When you verbalize your actions with Net slang. A laugh is just a 'lol', a sigh is just a *sigh*...
When the Rules of the Internet are more familiar to you than the Rules of Fight Club.
When you go to Sporcle to train.
When you prefer Primer to Avatar.
When Neo first shows off his powers irl and you think, "Oh shit, they're embedded in nested Matrices!"
When you are ashamed of your sesquipedalian loquaciousness.
When you decide that referencing xkcd for nerd cred is cheating.
When you bet on the inclusion of one preposition in one line of one book. (It's "Aragorn sped *on* up the hill." Obviously.)
When Twenty Questions really means "Keep asking till you give up."
When the food is problematic.
When you cannot get through the day without your fix of silly cats.
Alternatively, when you disdain silly cats, but think silly dogs are the shit.
When you're good friends with someone you've never met in meatspace.
When you're at the bookstore, and start riffling through a book to see if you want to buy it...and realize, a while later, that it would be pointless to buy a book you've already read, and also that the sun's gone down.
When you consciously verb nouns. Double points if that makes you think of Calvin and Hobbes.
When you make sure your [sarc][/sarc] tags are properly formatted.
When weirdness becomes a goal to attain rather than a quality to shun.
When you are a Timmy, Johnny, or Spike. Melvin or Vorthos? Okay, now you're just a smartass.
When the fate of your debate rests on a fictional planetary ecologist.
When you feel a compulsive need to use xor to remove logical ambiguity.
When you are familiar with the Laws of Poe, Sturgeon, Godwin, Moore, and Finagle.
When TV Tropes ruins your vocabulary.
When you describe Jesus as a subclass of God that implements the Human interface.
When the zeta function is elementary. (Except when it isn't.)
When you think that Transcendentalists must not have liked polynomials very much.
When you worry about the effects of drunkenness on your mental math.
When your response to use of the words pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, electrophotomicrographically, and floccinaucinihilipilification is something other than "Gesundheit".
When you worry about your use of the Oxford comma.
When your reaction to hearing about Homo floresiensis is to muse that Tolkien was telling the truth all along.
When you join a party by making a charsheet.
When you realize that the Ringworld is unstable.
When you consider the joke "there are 10 types of people in this world, those who understand binary and those who don't," and its higher-base variations, to be old hat.
When your chat with a friend bounces between nontrivial reasoning in philosophical thought experiments and appropriate balance for interacting feats/spells in D&D.
When you start dismissing nerdy pickup lines because the math/science involved is too elementary.
When, in your conversations, the term "lawyer" refers to a gaming pedant rather than the profession.
When the Chinese in Firefly breaks immersion because it's really BAD Chinese, or the dialect changes mid-episode.
When your bedside table reading pile is really a bedside table, three desk shelves, the top of your clothes drawer, and the lower bed bunk--and you leave the room at 3 AM to go find a different book.
When you lose The Game.
When you feel a little sad inside that someone, somewhere, knows more digits of Pi than you.
When hearing a relatively obscure mathematical term causes you to break out in song (Mandelbrot set, anyone? Bonus points if you started singing on 'Julia set' instead).
When you sit down to read all the goddamn codex entries in Dragon Age.
When you start min/maxing your Pokemon's attributes.
When you've been clicking on the 'random article' button for the last two hours.
When you find yourself having to choose between chess and go for the next game.
When you lol irl.
When people compliment you on your Renfaire or cosplay costume.
When you are genuinely outraged that Tom Bombadil got replaced by a random encounter with wood-elves, and then wonder whether those wood-elves were more likely to be Sindarin or Noldorin.
When you have tried to memorize the elements...lyrically.
When you show up to your school's traditional first-day hazing...wearing your self-made chainmaille coif.
When Quenya is your second language.
When you rack your brains thinking of ways to contribute to this list.
********************************************
(note: about 95% of these are actual self-reference, but not all.)
More will be added below when appropriate.
If, at any time during the last 525,600 minutes, you have mused on the diminishing cost of a gigabyte of memory...you might be a nerd.
Related: The probability that you are a nerd increases asymptotically to 1 with the number of arbitrary unit conversions you have memorized.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Biology is Weird
...and that's one reason why I like it. Consider: the selective inefficiency of complex organisms like mammals is one reason why we become more complex, according to a recent paper published in Genome Research. In simple, rapidly reproducing organisms like our single-celled cousins, gene duplications get eliminated reasonably quickly because they're a resource drain. But in complex organisms that tend to have smaller populations and longer generation times, these redundant paralogs can survive, and this often leads to specialization as paralogs diverge via mutation. I mean, it's not all that surprising to consider gene duplication as a significant mechanism for introducing variation and complexity (once you realize that it happens, anyway), but the idea that these occurrences depend on our poor selection is kind of a mind-bender.
...on an unrelated note: looking at this post, I realized that I'm falling prey to sesquipedalian loquaciousness, i.e. I'm using more big words than I need to. That's not good, even for my writing seminar--I bet profs get annoyed by roundabout expressions and overly complex language just as much as any other reader. Time to cut back. (...I think it's working!)
...on an unrelated note: looking at this post, I realized that I'm falling prey to sesquipedalian loquaciousness, i.e. I'm using more big words than I need to. That's not good, even for my writing seminar--I bet profs get annoyed by roundabout expressions and overly complex language just as much as any other reader. Time to cut back. (...I think it's working!)
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Binghamton Monthly Tourney November '09
I have a rating now! Well, actually, I think it will take several more days to show up online, but I am still officially a member of USCF! This is very exciting. How did I get a rating, you ask? Simple! I went to Binghamton for their monthly tourney, as the title suggests. It offers free 1-year membership in USCF with the $35 entry fee. Great deal, considering the membership's around $30/year by itself.
The chess was very fun, though not quite as intense as when I played Palatnik in the simultaneous match. I recorded the games, of course, and I present them here with extremely rudimentary analysis. I am the Unrated player in each game--I decided to leave out names, since there's no particular need to include them.
Game 1
White: Unrated
Black: 1476
E91 - King's Indian/Classical System with 7. ...d6
1.d4 Nf6
2.c4 g6
3.Nc3 Bg7
4.e4 d6
5.Be2 0-0
6.Nf3 Nc6
7.0-0 d6
8.Be3 Ng4
9.Bg5 Qd7
10.Ne1 Nf6
11.f4 h6
12.Bh4 Nh7
13.e5 dxe5
14.dxe5 Nd4
15.Bf3 Nf5
16.Bf2 Rd8
17.Nc2 Qe7
18.Qe2 c5
19.Rd1 Rxd1
20.Rxd1 Qc7
21.Nb5 Qe7
22.Ne3 a6
23.Nxf5 gxf5
24.Nd6 Qc7
25.Bh5 f6
26.Ne8 Qe7
27.Bh4 Bd7
28.exf6 Nxf6
29.Bxf6 Bxf6
30.Nxf6+ Qxf6
31.Rxd7 b5
32.cxb5 axb5
33.Qxb5 Qh4
34.Bf7+ Kh8
35.g3 Qf6
36.Qb7 Rd8
37.Bxe6 Rxe7
38.Qxe7 Qxb2
39.Qe8+ Kg7
40.Qf7+ 1-0
-------------------------------
Game 2
White: Unrated
Black: 2097
Opening: D08 - Queen's Gambit/Albin's Counter Gambit with 4. a3
1.d4 d5
2.c4 e5
3.dxe5 d4
4.a3 a5 (a3 is passive, but required. Perhaps better is 4. Nf3 immediately.)
5.e3 Nc6
6.Nf3 Bg4
7.Be2 dxe3
8.Bxe3? Qxd1 (8.Qxd8+ Rxd8 9.Bxe3 Ne7 10.Nbd2 Ng6 11.0-0-0 drawish)
9.Bxd1 Ne7
10.Nc3 0-0-0
11.h3? Bxf3 (11.0-0 Bxf3 12.Bxf3 Nxe5 13.Be2 Nf5 14.Bf4 Ng6 15.Bg4 Nxf4 16.Bxf5+ Kb8 17.Rad1 drawish, but I haven't thought about it much)
12.Bxf3 Nxe5
13.Be2 Nf5
14.Bf4 Ng6
15.Bh2 Nd4
16.Bg4+? f5 (16. 0-0 is far less bad)
17.Bd1 Re8+
18.Kf8 Ne5
19.b3 Nd3
20.Nd5?? Re1# (Anything else loses, but Nd5?? was fastest)
0-1
-------------------------------
Game 3
White: 1550
Black: Unrated
C02 - French/Advance Variation with 4. Bb5+?
1.e4 e6
2.d4 d5
3.e5 c5
4.Bb5+? Bd7
5.Bxd7+ Nxd7
6.c3 Ne7
7.Nf3 Nc6
8.0-0 cxd4
9.cxd4 Qb6
10.b3 Rc8
11.Ba3 Bb4!?
12.Bb2 Na5
13.Nd2 0-0
14.Qe2? Rc2
15.Rb1 Rc8
16.Rfc1 Qd8
17.Rxc2 Rxc2
18.Qd3 Rc7
19.Qb5 Nc6
20.a3 a6
21.Qd3 Be7
22.Rc1 f6
23.Qc3 fxe5
24.Nxe5 Nxe5
25.dxe5 Bg5
26.Rc2 Rf7
27.Nf3 d4!
28.Qd3 Rd7
29.Bc1? Bxc1
30.Rxc1 Rd5
31.Re1 Rc5
32.b4 Rc3
33.Qb1 Rxa3
34.Rd1 Qb3
35.Ng5 d3
36.Nxe6 Nxb4
37.Qb2 Ra2
38.Qb3 Qxf2+
39.0-1
-------------------------------
Game 4
White: 1784
Black: Unrated
Opening: King's Indian Attack vs. French Defense
1.e4 e6
2.d3 d5 (I actually expected him to play 2.d4 so much that I wrote down d4 on my record sheet, made my move, and then noticed his next move and realized, "Oh, right, he plays KIA.")
3.Nd2 Nf6
4.e5 Nd7
5.g3 Bb7
6.Bg2 c5
7.Nf3 b6
8.0-0 Nc6
9.Re1 Be7
10.Nb3 Qc7
11.Bf4 c4
12.Nd4 cxd3
13.Nb5 Qd8
14.Bg5 0-0
15.Bxe7 Qxe7
16.cxd3 Ba6? (I honestly didn't spot the next move. I got compensation, though.)
17.Nc7 Nc5
18.Nxa8 Nxd3
19.Re3 Nxb2
20.Rb1 Nc4
21.Rc3 Rxa8
22.Qf4 b5
23.Rc1 Nb4
24.Rb3 Nxa2
25.Ra1 Nb4
26.Rxb4 Qxb4
27.Rxa6 Qb1+
28.Bf1 b4
29.Ng5 Qg6
30.Bh3 b3
31.Rxe6 b2!
32.Bf5 b1=Q+
33.Bxb1 Qxb1+
34.Kg2 Qb7? (34.fxe6 and White cannot mate)
35.Qf5 g6 (if now ...fxe6, 36.Qxh7+ Kf7 37.Qh8+ Ke7 38.Qxg7+ and Black can resign)
36.Qf6 fxe6
37.Qxe6+ Kh8?? (37. ...Kf8 escapes, eventually)
38.Nf7+ Kg7
39.Qf6+ Kf8
40.Nd8+ 1-0
-------------------------------
I was...moderately happy with this outcome. I definitely should have won the last game, and probably could have drawn the second game with solid play. My play wasn't exactly ideal in the other two games, either. But overall I showed well, I think.
Oh, since I haven't put up my game against Palatnik on the blog, I'll do that now. It was a simultaneous game, so I don't read too much into it, but I was ecstatic to get the draw.
White: Semon Palatnik 2473
Black: Terry Drinkwater Unrated
E05 - Catalan Opening
1.d4 Nf6
2.c4 e6
3.g3 d5
4.Bg2 Be7
5.Nf3 0-0
6.0-0 dxc4
7.Ne5 c5
8.dxc5 Qc7
9.Nxc4 Rd8
10.Qb3 Bxc5
11.Nc3 e5
12.Bg5 Nc6
13.Bxf6 gxf6
14.Nd5 Rxd5
15.Bxd5 Nd4
16.Qd3 Bf5
17.Be4 Bg4
18.Bf3 Bf5
19.Be4 Bg4
20.Bf3 Bf5
21.1/2-1/2
The chess was very fun, though not quite as intense as when I played Palatnik in the simultaneous match. I recorded the games, of course, and I present them here with extremely rudimentary analysis. I am the Unrated player in each game--I decided to leave out names, since there's no particular need to include them.
Game 1
White: Unrated
Black: 1476
E91 - King's Indian/Classical System with 7. ...d6
1.d4 Nf6
2.c4 g6
3.Nc3 Bg7
4.e4 d6
5.Be2 0-0
6.Nf3 Nc6
7.0-0 d6
8.Be3 Ng4
9.Bg5 Qd7
10.Ne1 Nf6
11.f4 h6
12.Bh4 Nh7
13.e5 dxe5
14.dxe5 Nd4
15.Bf3 Nf5
16.Bf2 Rd8
17.Nc2 Qe7
18.Qe2 c5
19.Rd1 Rxd1
20.Rxd1 Qc7
21.Nb5 Qe7
22.Ne3 a6
23.Nxf5 gxf5
24.Nd6 Qc7
25.Bh5 f6
26.Ne8 Qe7
27.Bh4 Bd7
28.exf6 Nxf6
29.Bxf6 Bxf6
30.Nxf6+ Qxf6
31.Rxd7 b5
32.cxb5 axb5
33.Qxb5 Qh4
34.Bf7+ Kh8
35.g3 Qf6
36.Qb7 Rd8
37.Bxe6 Rxe7
38.Qxe7 Qxb2
39.Qe8+ Kg7
40.Qf7+ 1-0
-------------------------------
Game 2
White: Unrated
Black: 2097
Opening: D08 - Queen's Gambit/Albin's Counter Gambit with 4. a3
1.d4 d5
2.c4 e5
3.dxe5 d4
4.a3 a5 (a3 is passive, but required. Perhaps better is 4. Nf3 immediately.)
5.e3 Nc6
6.Nf3 Bg4
7.Be2 dxe3
8.Bxe3? Qxd1 (8.Qxd8+ Rxd8 9.Bxe3 Ne7 10.Nbd2 Ng6 11.0-0-0 drawish)
9.Bxd1 Ne7
10.Nc3 0-0-0
11.h3? Bxf3 (11.0-0 Bxf3 12.Bxf3 Nxe5 13.Be2 Nf5 14.Bf4 Ng6 15.Bg4 Nxf4 16.Bxf5+ Kb8 17.Rad1 drawish, but I haven't thought about it much)
12.Bxf3 Nxe5
13.Be2 Nf5
14.Bf4 Ng6
15.Bh2 Nd4
16.Bg4+? f5 (16. 0-0 is far less bad)
17.Bd1 Re8+
18.Kf8 Ne5
19.b3 Nd3
20.Nd5?? Re1# (Anything else loses, but Nd5?? was fastest)
0-1
-------------------------------
Game 3
White: 1550
Black: Unrated
C02 - French/Advance Variation with 4. Bb5+?
1.e4 e6
2.d4 d5
3.e5 c5
4.Bb5+? Bd7
5.Bxd7+ Nxd7
6.c3 Ne7
7.Nf3 Nc6
8.0-0 cxd4
9.cxd4 Qb6
10.b3 Rc8
11.Ba3 Bb4!?
12.Bb2 Na5
13.Nd2 0-0
14.Qe2? Rc2
15.Rb1 Rc8
16.Rfc1 Qd8
17.Rxc2 Rxc2
18.Qd3 Rc7
19.Qb5 Nc6
20.a3 a6
21.Qd3 Be7
22.Rc1 f6
23.Qc3 fxe5
24.Nxe5 Nxe5
25.dxe5 Bg5
26.Rc2 Rf7
27.Nf3 d4!
28.Qd3 Rd7
29.Bc1? Bxc1
30.Rxc1 Rd5
31.Re1 Rc5
32.b4 Rc3
33.Qb1 Rxa3
34.Rd1 Qb3
35.Ng5 d3
36.Nxe6 Nxb4
37.Qb2 Ra2
38.Qb3 Qxf2+
39.0-1
-------------------------------
Game 4
White: 1784
Black: Unrated
Opening: King's Indian Attack vs. French Defense
1.e4 e6
2.d3 d5 (I actually expected him to play 2.d4 so much that I wrote down d4 on my record sheet, made my move, and then noticed his next move and realized, "Oh, right, he plays KIA.")
3.Nd2 Nf6
4.e5 Nd7
5.g3 Bb7
6.Bg2 c5
7.Nf3 b6
8.0-0 Nc6
9.Re1 Be7
10.Nb3 Qc7
11.Bf4 c4
12.Nd4 cxd3
13.Nb5 Qd8
14.Bg5 0-0
15.Bxe7 Qxe7
16.cxd3 Ba6? (I honestly didn't spot the next move. I got compensation, though.)
17.Nc7 Nc5
18.Nxa8 Nxd3
19.Re3 Nxb2
20.Rb1 Nc4
21.Rc3 Rxa8
22.Qf4 b5
23.Rc1 Nb4
24.Rb3 Nxa2
25.Ra1 Nb4
26.Rxb4 Qxb4
27.Rxa6 Qb1+
28.Bf1 b4
29.Ng5 Qg6
30.Bh3 b3
31.Rxe6 b2!
32.Bf5 b1=Q+
33.Bxb1 Qxb1+
34.Kg2 Qb7? (34.fxe6 and White cannot mate)
35.Qf5 g6 (if now ...fxe6, 36.Qxh7+ Kf7 37.Qh8+ Ke7 38.Qxg7+ and Black can resign)
36.Qf6 fxe6
37.Qxe6+ Kh8?? (37. ...Kf8 escapes, eventually)
38.Nf7+ Kg7
39.Qf6+ Kf8
40.Nd8+ 1-0
-------------------------------
I was...moderately happy with this outcome. I definitely should have won the last game, and probably could have drawn the second game with solid play. My play wasn't exactly ideal in the other two games, either. But overall I showed well, I think.
Oh, since I haven't put up my game against Palatnik on the blog, I'll do that now. It was a simultaneous game, so I don't read too much into it, but I was ecstatic to get the draw.
White: Semon Palatnik 2473
Black: Terry Drinkwater Unrated
E05 - Catalan Opening
1.d4 Nf6
2.c4 e6
3.g3 d5
4.Bg2 Be7
5.Nf3 0-0
6.0-0 dxc4
7.Ne5 c5
8.dxc5 Qc7
9.Nxc4 Rd8
10.Qb3 Bxc5
11.Nc3 e5
12.Bg5 Nc6
13.Bxf6 gxf6
14.Nd5 Rxd5
15.Bxd5 Nd4
16.Qd3 Bf5
17.Be4 Bg4
18.Bf3 Bf5
19.Be4 Bg4
20.Bf3 Bf5
21.1/2-1/2
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Fight!
So after I made a big deal out of apologizing for being a day late, this is three weeks later that I actually put anything on the blog. As expected, writing challenges don't just disappear when I make a commitment to make them disappear, but I'm working on it. Anyway, the way the writing is going, I can't exactly post in chronological order. Some scenes don't work at all, and some flow out nicely. So today I'm posting my most recent effort. Time to introduce some new characters, neh? Well, not really; but they do come up.
********************************************************
As Yuki and I circled warily, I mused that it wasn't actually all that different from work. All right, so office suits didn't carry swords into the conference room, but their verbal sparring often had the same life-and-death quality.
She moved first, reversing direction and coming in hard with a slash towards my left shoulder. I took it on my left guard and punched out with the other, pivoting towards her, but she just kept moving and ended up to my left with a clear shot at my back. I dropped into a forward roll and winced as her sword cut the air above me.
I spun as I rose, expecting a fast-approaching blade, but Yuki just stood there looking at me curiously. Not questioning my fortune, I started my own charge, hoping to get in close, where my mailed fists would be more effective than her blade. But she danced away, and I had to put up both arms to block a flurry of blows.
"Slow," Yuki taunted as she struck. "Perhaps it is my fault for expecting something. What happened to the skill of the one known as Iron Fury?" She worked my guard high, then suddenly reversed into a middle thrust.
"I'll take age and treachery over youth and skill any day," I retorted. I pivoted around the incoming sword and dropped my right hand down to keep her from shifting to a slash. The pivot ended with my back to the sword, as I reached out for a vicious backhand blow. Yuki traded for a knee to the side, and then it was her turn to fall away in a roll. I pursued, but stopped before a nigh impenetrable steel curtain, Yuki whipping her blade back and forth to keep me at bay even as she rose.
"You say that, but you don't really mean it," she pointed out. "You fight tricky, but you never used tricks to fight. You've laid on a world-weary veneer, but--"
I interrupted with my fists. We exchanged a few blows, sword on fist, then separated. Yuki was the worse off; I could feel a bruise coming up, but she was limping.
"Why'd you cut me off?" she demanded.
"After years apart, you still talk like you know me," I said. "Not to mention you still talk like it's a free action. I'm not here to listen to you. I fight, I take you to the hospital, I go. That simple." I closed in, leading with my left.
And blocking with my right, against Yuki's descending blade. I told you it was her feet, right? Against anyone else two fists beats one blade, but Yuki was already miles away from my intended attack. Not just that, either. Her grin was all the warning I had before I got a hammer blow to the side. I staggered, and she was behind me. I whirled, left arm sweeping below my right guard, but she just came in behind the block and poked my chest with her sword. I raised my arms in defeat.
"So is this what it takes to get you to listen?" Yuki inquired, breathing hard.
"Well, it helps," I replied.
"'Good," she said with some asperity. "Because 'simple' is the last word for our situation, and if it takes a blade to make you listen to an adventurer, I'll leave it there till I'm done."
"Now you're just being contrary."
"Maybe I am," she admitted, smiling. "Besides, inside's better than out for long talks." She sheathed her sword. "But then, the only reason you're not leaving right now is that you know I'm faster. And when I'm done, you'll know why that's worst for all of us."
"All of you, maybe," I retorted. "Worst for me would be--wait a second. All? You mean everyone's back? And how did you manage that little feat?" I looked quizzically at her, but faltered at her suddenly grim expression.
"Not everyone," she said quietly. "Verth never took to townie life the way you did. I found him a month ago, all right--found him with a layer of snow covering the hole in his belly. Word was he'd fallen in with the local thugs, and ran his mouth once too often for the boss." She stared into the distance. I laid my arm across her shoulders.
"The thugs?" My voice was soft.
"Dead," she said, almost without emotion. But her eyes were moist. "Took me a week to root them all out. Not sure anyone else knew who was who--got myself a couple of wanted posters by the fourth day. You know how it is."
"That I do," I sighed. "How about the others?"
"Carran never left," she answered, blinking her eyes dry. "This is his life. Couldn't pry him away from it with a crowbar. Lyran was on-again, off-again. Trying to have it both ways, I'm surprised he never got--caught. Too fond of creature comforts for his own good, the rascal," she grumbled good-naturedly. "We'd pick him up in Plesset and he'd drop out in Deringham, saying he'd never be back. Didn't have your resolve, I guess. Ephestra settled down like you, though. Hell, she was going steady when I showed up. She was more trouble than you, honestly. You don't want to come back, but she didn't want to leave. Love's harder to budge than hate."
"She left, though," I cut in. "Why don't we head back to Folger's, and you can catch me up on why."
"What, you don't want to hear more about Ephestra's exploits?" she asked mischievously. "Time was you'd be jealous."
"Time gone past," I replied in kind, then sobered. "Besides, you may be chuckling now, but last night you weren't so pleasant. Not angry, either, however you tried to fake it." I fixed her with a serious stare. "You were nervous--scared, even. And that's got me more worried than when you had three feet of steel pointed at my chest."
"Yeah, but that's because you knew I wouldn't follow through," she pointed out.
"No, that wasn't it," I replied, moving suddenly. Before she could react I had her in a headlock. She yelped, reaching for her sword, but I blocked her from drawing. "Notice anything?" I asked her casually.
She sniffed. "You didn't break a sweat. But why let me think you were out of practice?"
"Because I wanted to see if you needed me, broken down as I wasn't," I replied, releasing the hold. "Besides, if you'd been going all out yourself I'd have been down at the first blow. Shall we?"
"I still would've won," she said irritably, stalking towards the road. I smiled and followed.
********************************************************
I'll also be editing the first excerpt for continuity and style whatnots.
********************************************************
As Yuki and I circled warily, I mused that it wasn't actually all that different from work. All right, so office suits didn't carry swords into the conference room, but their verbal sparring often had the same life-and-death quality.
She moved first, reversing direction and coming in hard with a slash towards my left shoulder. I took it on my left guard and punched out with the other, pivoting towards her, but she just kept moving and ended up to my left with a clear shot at my back. I dropped into a forward roll and winced as her sword cut the air above me.
I spun as I rose, expecting a fast-approaching blade, but Yuki just stood there looking at me curiously. Not questioning my fortune, I started my own charge, hoping to get in close, where my mailed fists would be more effective than her blade. But she danced away, and I had to put up both arms to block a flurry of blows.
"Slow," Yuki taunted as she struck. "Perhaps it is my fault for expecting something. What happened to the skill of the one known as Iron Fury?" She worked my guard high, then suddenly reversed into a middle thrust.
"I'll take age and treachery over youth and skill any day," I retorted. I pivoted around the incoming sword and dropped my right hand down to keep her from shifting to a slash. The pivot ended with my back to the sword, as I reached out for a vicious backhand blow. Yuki traded for a knee to the side, and then it was her turn to fall away in a roll. I pursued, but stopped before a nigh impenetrable steel curtain, Yuki whipping her blade back and forth to keep me at bay even as she rose.
"You say that, but you don't really mean it," she pointed out. "You fight tricky, but you never used tricks to fight. You've laid on a world-weary veneer, but--"
I interrupted with my fists. We exchanged a few blows, sword on fist, then separated. Yuki was the worse off; I could feel a bruise coming up, but she was limping.
"Why'd you cut me off?" she demanded.
"After years apart, you still talk like you know me," I said. "Not to mention you still talk like it's a free action. I'm not here to listen to you. I fight, I take you to the hospital, I go. That simple." I closed in, leading with my left.
And blocking with my right, against Yuki's descending blade. I told you it was her feet, right? Against anyone else two fists beats one blade, but Yuki was already miles away from my intended attack. Not just that, either. Her grin was all the warning I had before I got a hammer blow to the side. I staggered, and she was behind me. I whirled, left arm sweeping below my right guard, but she just came in behind the block and poked my chest with her sword. I raised my arms in defeat.
"So is this what it takes to get you to listen?" Yuki inquired, breathing hard.
"Well, it helps," I replied.
"'Good," she said with some asperity. "Because 'simple' is the last word for our situation, and if it takes a blade to make you listen to an adventurer, I'll leave it there till I'm done."
"Now you're just being contrary."
"Maybe I am," she admitted, smiling. "Besides, inside's better than out for long talks." She sheathed her sword. "But then, the only reason you're not leaving right now is that you know I'm faster. And when I'm done, you'll know why that's worst for all of us."
"All of you, maybe," I retorted. "Worst for me would be--wait a second. All? You mean everyone's back? And how did you manage that little feat?" I looked quizzically at her, but faltered at her suddenly grim expression.
"Not everyone," she said quietly. "Verth never took to townie life the way you did. I found him a month ago, all right--found him with a layer of snow covering the hole in his belly. Word was he'd fallen in with the local thugs, and ran his mouth once too often for the boss." She stared into the distance. I laid my arm across her shoulders.
"The thugs?" My voice was soft.
"Dead," she said, almost without emotion. But her eyes were moist. "Took me a week to root them all out. Not sure anyone else knew who was who--got myself a couple of wanted posters by the fourth day. You know how it is."
"That I do," I sighed. "How about the others?"
"Carran never left," she answered, blinking her eyes dry. "This is his life. Couldn't pry him away from it with a crowbar. Lyran was on-again, off-again. Trying to have it both ways, I'm surprised he never got--caught. Too fond of creature comforts for his own good, the rascal," she grumbled good-naturedly. "We'd pick him up in Plesset and he'd drop out in Deringham, saying he'd never be back. Didn't have your resolve, I guess. Ephestra settled down like you, though. Hell, she was going steady when I showed up. She was more trouble than you, honestly. You don't want to come back, but she didn't want to leave. Love's harder to budge than hate."
"She left, though," I cut in. "Why don't we head back to Folger's, and you can catch me up on why."
"What, you don't want to hear more about Ephestra's exploits?" she asked mischievously. "Time was you'd be jealous."
"Time gone past," I replied in kind, then sobered. "Besides, you may be chuckling now, but last night you weren't so pleasant. Not angry, either, however you tried to fake it." I fixed her with a serious stare. "You were nervous--scared, even. And that's got me more worried than when you had three feet of steel pointed at my chest."
"Yeah, but that's because you knew I wouldn't follow through," she pointed out.
"No, that wasn't it," I replied, moving suddenly. Before she could react I had her in a headlock. She yelped, reaching for her sword, but I blocked her from drawing. "Notice anything?" I asked her casually.
She sniffed. "You didn't break a sweat. But why let me think you were out of practice?"
"Because I wanted to see if you needed me, broken down as I wasn't," I replied, releasing the hold. "Besides, if you'd been going all out yourself I'd have been down at the first blow. Shall we?"
"I still would've won," she said irritably, stalking towards the road. I smiled and followed.
********************************************************
I'll also be editing the first excerpt for continuity and style whatnots.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Ok, So It's a Day Late
As promised, the first part of my writing. I may have to rethink this--it wouldn't be fair to me or to you to release half-finished junk (for example, right after the end of this section I've skipped a good deal of what I envision to be internal dialogue because it depends on where I take the novel later). OTOH, it means I could edit the posts as I go along, which might be educational in itself.
All right, here goes.
************************************************************
“So a guy walks into a bar.” I used to laugh at those. Get a man drunk and he’ll do things he wouldn’t soberly consider for love or money. Ever hear the one about Superman luring people off the roof? But sobriety hadn't stopped me from doing unimaginable things. And love had nothing to do with it, worse luck.
So I ignored the joker and ordered my drink. Yeah, I was sober, but I didn’t want to be. And this was the only place in town that served 12% beer, so here I was. The first swallow scorched my throat going down, and I was going for actual flames when a shove from behind turned the rest of the bottle into glass shards and foamy splatter. I turned around to let the shover have a piece of my mind, and perhaps a few hours’ rest. Like a drunkard, remember, I thought, and let my fist come around in a massive, sloppy arc that it never completed.
Yuki stood there, one hand on her hip like the other was meant to be, only it was busy crushing my wrist. “Really, John, I knew you must have deteriorated, but this is pathetic,” she said with a hint of accent. “It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t just break this and leave you to fester.”
I’d prefer if you didn’t—break it, anyway,” I managed with some semblance of politeness. “Be hard to work one-handed.” If she was here, then so was the rest of the gang.
“Relax, John,” she said scornfully, seeing my eyes dart. “They're busy trawling--you know the drill. I wouldn’t need backup anyway, the state you’re in.” I didn’t dispute the point, even if she had mistaken my punch for the real thing. “On the other hand,” she added, “I’m not here to drown myself in alcohol either, like you are. I’ve got better things to do than dwell on the bad old days, and now you do too.”
“Yeah, I have a job.” I freed my wrist. She let me. “I make an honest 9-to-5 living now, and I don't need--"
"Trouble," Yuki interrupted, sneering. "You used to live for trouble, John. You've got the scars to prove it. Are you so scared of acquiring more that you'd hide behind a desk and a mug of beer? Have your fists gone soft? Or is it that you're too good for us, with your steady pay and comfortable lifestyle?" She looked up at me, face hard. "I guess we don't need a man getting fat in the belly and the purse. We'll just be about our merry way, and let you be about your job." She made it seem a dirty word.
I knew she was goading me, but I was never famed for my patience. "Do you want to see if I've gone soft? Take this outside, and we can have ourselves a philosophical discussion." I almost said "put up your fists," but I remembered that it was her feet I'd have to watch.
"It can wait until you've sobered up," she replied. "We're staying at Folger's Inn down Broadside Way. Tomorrow, at noon--if you still have the guts." She strode away. I didn't bother to protest that I'd had less than one drink. Watching her flowing movements, I wasn't sure I could best her, sober or not. One fight, I told myself. I have my pride. But after that, I'm done, no matter what they say or do.
************************************************************
ps. John and Yuki are just names, right now, and subject to change. I can tell you one name that won't come up as Yuki's replacement, as if it matters: Kagemoto Hoshiko. I want to use that name, but not on a character who seems so hard-headed. I might even write something just for that name, because it's so evocative to me. It translates: Star's child, origin of shadows. Sweet.
All right, here goes.
************************************************************
“So a guy walks into a bar.” I used to laugh at those. Get a man drunk and he’ll do things he wouldn’t soberly consider for love or money. Ever hear the one about Superman luring people off the roof? But sobriety hadn't stopped me from doing unimaginable things. And love had nothing to do with it, worse luck.
So I ignored the joker and ordered my drink. Yeah, I was sober, but I didn’t want to be. And this was the only place in town that served 12% beer, so here I was. The first swallow scorched my throat going down, and I was going for actual flames when a shove from behind turned the rest of the bottle into glass shards and foamy splatter. I turned around to let the shover have a piece of my mind, and perhaps a few hours’ rest. Like a drunkard, remember, I thought, and let my fist come around in a massive, sloppy arc that it never completed.
Yuki stood there, one hand on her hip like the other was meant to be, only it was busy crushing my wrist. “Really, John, I knew you must have deteriorated, but this is pathetic,” she said with a hint of accent. “It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t just break this and leave you to fester.”
I’d prefer if you didn’t—break it, anyway,” I managed with some semblance of politeness. “Be hard to work one-handed.” If she was here, then so was the rest of the gang.
“Relax, John,” she said scornfully, seeing my eyes dart. “They're busy trawling--you know the drill. I wouldn’t need backup anyway, the state you’re in.” I didn’t dispute the point, even if she had mistaken my punch for the real thing. “On the other hand,” she added, “I’m not here to drown myself in alcohol either, like you are. I’ve got better things to do than dwell on the bad old days, and now you do too.”
“Yeah, I have a job.” I freed my wrist. She let me. “I make an honest 9-to-5 living now, and I don't need--"
"Trouble," Yuki interrupted, sneering. "You used to live for trouble, John. You've got the scars to prove it. Are you so scared of acquiring more that you'd hide behind a desk and a mug of beer? Have your fists gone soft? Or is it that you're too good for us, with your steady pay and comfortable lifestyle?" She looked up at me, face hard. "I guess we don't need a man getting fat in the belly and the purse. We'll just be about our merry way, and let you be about your job." She made it seem a dirty word.
I knew she was goading me, but I was never famed for my patience. "Do you want to see if I've gone soft? Take this outside, and we can have ourselves a philosophical discussion." I almost said "put up your fists," but I remembered that it was her feet I'd have to watch.
"It can wait until you've sobered up," she replied. "We're staying at Folger's Inn down Broadside Way. Tomorrow, at noon--if you still have the guts." She strode away. I didn't bother to protest that I'd had less than one drink. Watching her flowing movements, I wasn't sure I could best her, sober or not. One fight, I told myself. I have my pride. But after that, I'm done, no matter what they say or do.
************************************************************
ps. John and Yuki are just names, right now, and subject to change. I can tell you one name that won't come up as Yuki's replacement, as if it matters: Kagemoto Hoshiko. I want to use that name, but not on a character who seems so hard-headed. I might even write something just for that name, because it's so evocative to me. It translates: Star's child, origin of shadows. Sweet.
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