mfbrandi

This seems to be a category in which women are short-changed. Maybe the problem is drawing boundaries around the type. There are tricky, clever, appealing, and dangerous women who leave a trail of destruction — like the unnamed protagonists of We Who Are About To … and What Did You Do During the Revolution, Grandma? — but do they count even as Jacks? Are they, anyway, too rational. Is it a phallic category? John Clute is quite good on the Trickster: Do characters like Simon Templar and Raffles really count? They break the law, but they seem to have codes of honour and to be unlikely to burn the whole shithouse down. But, as I say, I am uncertain how far we can push the category. “Ronin Hood” made me laugh, but it looks like Image Comics actually did it.

The Monkey King, Great Sage Equal to Heaven?

I tried being a cynic, but I lacked the necessary enthusiasm for dogs. Diogenes himself seems to verge on the holy fool, which kinda–sorta brings us back to the Trickster. As a kid, I loved the idea of going out at noon with a lamp to look for an honest man … but only on the understanding that I wouldn’t find one. I mean, where would I put him? Here I was only pushing the idea that there is no sliding a cigarette paper between trickster and hero — but then I always rooted for Prometheus, not Achilles.

Or the splitting of the Trickster from the Hero is a reach for plausible deniability — “I would never do that. It was that bum, Eurmal.” — but sooner or later the Hero has to face reality and reintegrate the Trickster. (Or fail, of course.) I mean, the goat never did anything wrong. Except maybe eat my trousers. Gulp!

I suspect that way back when — when we still expected Masters of Luck and Death any day now any year now at all — we none of us thought that going to church would be heroquesting. It is, I suspect, an inside–outside problem. The story of the hero’s confrontation with the external monster may sometimes stand for our confrontation with our inner demons, but when our ritual re-enactment of stories of fights with external monsters becomes a tool to help us fight … err, real external monsters, my brain starts to itch — and not necessarily in a good way. But for good or ill, this is the recursive nightmare of the Arkatland theme park — to which we all happily paid the price of admission — in which we get to see a man not-at-all-figuratively wrestle with and dismember himself. Shame about the collateral damage. Pass the popcorn. To drag this back to the point: is Orlanth’s “hero’s journey” something that begins as a response to/atonement for the murder of the Sun, or is the murder of the Sun an integral part of the quest? It seems to me that you start with the Sun as divine authority (the demon in the brain that makes us see the world wrongly and suffer because of it) [THESIS], so you murder the Sun/god [ANTITHESIS], and you recreate the world so the Sun is more fusion reaction and less divine father/cop in the head [SYNTHESIS]. Rinse and repeat till you have only the mundane world left/you have reached psychic liberation/you have stepped off the hamster wheel of rebirth. Very roughly right? So Nysalor and the Red Moon are the divine reasserting itself within time (keeping us from Nirvana/liberation, whatever they preach). If you see Orlanth as the architect of the Great Compromise — rather than the idiot tool of Trickster and the Sun Spider — then they will be the number one targets of the Orlanthi hero, and the dead civilians and the fallen empires are just details. But if Orlanth were to reassert himself within time, he would be part of the problem. Hence Argrath & the Devil. But if the perfect Orlanthi hero is the manifestation of Orlanth and the hero is always fighting themself, then who gets swallowed and who gets dismembered? I don’t have all the answers. Hell, by trying to squish too much together, I probably end up with none of them. Fail better next time.

Before we knew the light of the Sun, three friends felt something nagging at the backs of their brains: there was something they didn’t understand, but they couldn’t say what it was; it was infuriating. The wisest of them said, “Be calm. Let us meditate. Perhaps an answer will come.” “Where shall we sit?” The wisest of them marked three lines meeting at a point. Now each had their own space to sit, facing the centre and the void. No one can say how long they sat, for back then the rise and fall of the Sun did not mark the passage of days. Perhaps they sat for an aeon, perhaps it was only a moment. Zorak Zoran opened three eyes, screaming. He burned, and soon others would burn around him. He said, “Now I see, but it gives me no peace.” Argan Argar opened two eyes. He looked around and said, “These will be useful. Xiola Umbar, why do you not open your eyes? Do you not want to know this new thing?” Xiola Umbar smiled and said, “Are my eyes closed? I think that they have always been open and that we have always been bathed in Light. But perhaps, my friend, you will always find comfort walking in the shade.” And she laughed, rose, and stood behind Zorak Zoran. She laid her hands on his shoulders, and he was quiet — for a short time, anyway. ————————————————————————————————————————— A new thread to get away from the gonzo Arkat stuff. A new telling of the myth because “for a time they viewed it from a distance” in the Trollpak version was bugging me.

Isn’t this what happened to Zorak Zoran? And man, I really stings. If an illuminant is burning from the inside, stand well back. Do not return to a lit firework. Aren’t the watchwords of the Orlanthi religion — seen capaciously — “there is always another way” and “violence is always an option”? These are sometimes seen as being in opposition, but one can combine them: there is always another way to unleash Hell. Arguably, this goes all the way back to Orlanth’s accepting Death from Trickster and using it on Yelm. Then the question is whether Orlanth is a numpty who acts impulsively and lives to regret it, or is subtle and playing the long game. In the long run, murdering the Sun worked out just fine, but at the time — oi! So just how un-Orlanth is improvising weapons of mass destruction? If I were the cattle raider on the Clapham omnibus, I would be terrified by Argrath’s shenanigans, but if I were Orlanth themself, wouldn’t I be looking down fondly and saying, “That’s my boy”? Again, Orlanth and the Orlanthi are a blindspot for me — or maybe grit in my eyes — so I may have that all wrong. As for Arkat (illuminated among the Aldryami, one supposes), surely he would stop at nothing to further his war with himself/plunge into darkness — ZZ Arkat was always in the cards, even if there was a post-war period of reflection in the Autarchy/Empire of Peace. So problematic how? Or problematic for the bystanders because Arkati, all-too-Arkati?

I don’t know though: as a naïve hick from the sticks, the Welshman is quite “relatable”, no? A bit of a Rurik the Restless. (I suppose it depends on the teller of the tale.) This comment is really just an excuse to plug the absolutely stunning film by Éric Rohmer, Perceval le Gallois.

I am not trying to say Argrath is Achilles, just that one should ask what the relationship between a people and “its” hero is. Achilles is a petulant child who learns a measure of compassion rather late in his short life. He may have “martial virtues” — which we imagine were important to Homer’s audience/readership, who might have to fight themselves — but these don’t seem to be unproblematic for Homer: the Iliad is a rather chilling read. Sure, she is his patron, but that doesn’t mean she is him. Still, you may have a better feel for this than I do. Why is that? I can see that when trying to rouse the Orlanthi rabble, Argrath might want to make it seem so, but would they go for that? I am not the person to speak authoritatively, but I would imagine that 3rd Age Orlanthi have some stories about Arkat and can see Argrath as an Arkat-type hero (Deciever, Betrayer, Destroyer), even if they don’t think that he is literally Arkat come again. If they do, then siding with Argrath is going to seem like doing a deal with the Devil — Gbaji, Wakboth, or Kajabor: take your pick — isn’t it? Taking the long view, that Devil’s bargain may be wise — because it gets the gods out of human affairs — but for the short-term goal of throwing off the Imperial yoke, one can expect a high price to pay, no? Now, I can never get a handle on the Orlanthi: they preach freedom, but they seem conservative. IRL, this is common enough, but are the Orlanthi supposed to be the NRA or the Proud Boys? Anyway, the ideology of Orlanth has him as a rule-breaker, an innovator, and someone willing to shed a lot of blood to get his will enacted or to satisfy his pride, doesn’t it? (Forgive me if I have that wrong, he is a massive blind spot for me.) Wouldn’t that make Argrath a pretty good Orlanthi hero, in the imitatio Orlanth sense? Doesn’t mean he won’t throw you — and Orlanth — under the bus, but being like Orlanth is not the same as taking tender care of Orlanth and his people, is it? Of course, if your hero does seem to embody your god (rather than being an ambassador for him), it might be hard not to follow him over the cliff. TL;DR: I don’t know.

Wiser heads than mine would have a better idea. IMO, I don’t think the Greeks thought x is a hero because x exemplifies the virtues (or flaws) of god, y. I also grew up thinking that the Greeks didn’t see the Olympians as moral exemplars — that is why I liked the Greek myths: a break from bible stories. I may be wrong, but I doubt I will shake that attitude at this late date. Well, they are both supposed to be wise, but he is whingeing, womanising, and devious, which maybe doesn’t fit her. (I see Athena as like Supergirl: the powerful woman who upholds the patriarchy — a “class traitor” if you like.) Isn’t Odysseus supposed to be more of a Trickster figure? “That man of twists and turns” is Fagles’ translation, I think — which might make him a Hermes figure if he must be compared to a god. And so back to Argrath as Orlanthi hero: that needn’t mean that he is exemplary in an imitatio Orlanth sense. But only @Joerg can say exactly what he meant.

Well … that still leaves open the question of the relationship between a people and their archetypal hero. I mean, just look at Achilles!

Derivations of Darkness, Cold, Heat, and Fire from Light: The cultic sigil (rotate at will): What are the cult’s runes? It surely cannot have all of these. Depends who you ask. Ostensibly, Harmony, Darkness, and Disorder — they seem safe — but in the right company, this is displayed: And that, I promise, is it.

We have already derived Phi and Harmony. Moon is a trivial derivation. We get Stasis and Motion by breaking the Moon and playing with the pieces. Storm is like Motion but diminished, an altogether lesser thing: Sea/Water and all the other straight line segment runes are too boring to construct. The Man rune is straight lines plus Light and the Moon segment we used to create Motion and Storm/Air. If we ever have any non-runic pieces left over, we just multiply them by Light. (This shows that Light is as much the void as Darkness is.)

Disorder from Chaos — Taken directly from a Transport for London project plan.

Harmony from Chaos (it was deprecated because they didn’t want you to know), Fibonacci style.

Well, we are not a million miles away from the plant rune, are we? All part of the secret of the light within, so be careful what you wish for.

Self-dismemberment is a core Arkat capability — like the cosmic dragon creating the world.

You say negative, I say inescapable complement or concomitant. Truth values are 1 and 0, not 1 and -1. More of this anon (i.e. once I have drawn the pictures). Derivations coming. Honest, guv!

No just running variations on light–dark using the truth–illusion superposition that was surely always intended. I thought about curving the arms of the truth rune to suggest the motion rune, but … nah!

Well, that’s how it looks, but I am increasingly of the opinion that Arkat the Deceiver, the Destroyer, the Trickster, really is on our side and suffers and dies at his own hand over and over again to “save” the world. Every time he destroys and recreates the world, it is a little bit better … and a little bit closer to its end.

A theory, he says. Could one get more Tricksterish than Arkat — “No, he’s Gbaji!” — Nysalor, the lozenge’s greatest one-person double act and magisterial manipulator of smoke and mirrors?

Invented to melt Valind’s Glacier and raise sea levels?

You shouldn’t need full Acrobat to add a page to front and back (if that’s what you want). For example PDF-Shuffler is free. If that won’t run on your platform, PDF Split and Merge probably will. Or message me and arrange to send me the files and I should be able to do it for you today — fingers crossed!

Presumably, it occurred to @Squaredeal Sten, as he immediately reached for flamingo-keets as Glorantha’s flamingos. Maybe … but possibly not good to lean too hard on IRL etymology of words “translated” from the Gloranthan. Also the theory that Durulz were a race (species) of birds cursed into humanoid form might have led people to hypothesize an original “purely avian” race of ducks that may never have existed (and then squished the words together). Either way, the Durulz might take “duck” as an insult. Could Durulz and Keets be hsunchen who were cursed to remain in an intermediate form? Maybe for embracing “modern” technology/lifestyles. If, say, all reindeer are Uncolings, then one might expect the avian forms corresponding to Durulz and Keets to be gone from the lozenge if entire species were cursed — which would be a shame. Bird hsunchen seem to be thin on the ground [sorry!]: there are the Flari owl people, the Ri-si woodpecker people, and that seems to be it — the Qa-ying eagle people having been retconned into wind children (yuck!), requiring an amusing switch of sides in the Battle of Six Herds (Guide p. 283 versus the earlier Well of Daliath). Still I have my fingers crossed for honest-to-god feathery dinosaur flamingos (although in Glorantha that’s a whole other can of wyrms).