Announcement: The End has Arrived

This is the final post for Deep in the Stacks. Existing posts will remain, but there will be no more new material added. Thank you to all of my readers over the last six years.

Good-bye, and God bless you all.

Announcement: The End is Near

I have decided that after five years, and a steady decline in posting activity, that the time has come to close down Deep in the Stacks. My other blog, Ancient Faith in the Far Future, gets more of my attention and time. I am debating whether to simply stop updating this blog, or actually remove it. I will make the final post before the end of the year. Thank you to all who have read my blog, and commented, and shared. Merry Christmas to all.

In appreciation for a gift - an essay

I moved out of my parent’s house in 1995. You know what I miss the most from the house? I mean the house itself, not the family who lived with me, or the occasions & events that happened there.

I miss the pencil sharpener. It was a 1960’s vintage mechanical hand-crank type, in technical terms a "planetary sharpener". It was mounted on the wall in the basement room where I hung out as a teenager.

The room was square, wood walls and floor, no carpet, no windows and no door. But right there by the doorway was the pencil sharpener. 

Sharpening Old School, baby!

I graduated from high school in the late 80’s, in the days before the Internet and Microsoft Word. At least it was at my house. So, I wrote all of my book reports and did all of my homework on paper, with a pencil. I tried to avoid pen because my handwriting is terrible and I had to go back and erase a lot.

Now, that should explain why I used the pencil sharpener, but why was that the thing I miss the most?

Far From the Maddening Crowds

"We live in an age of chattering masses,"  writes librarian Mark Herring of Dacus Library, Winthrop University, in the library journal Against the Grain (Feb 2014 v26,1).  "Everybody talks to everybody else," but nobody is listening, he says. Well, I listened. I also asked his permission to extensively quote his article, and then give my hopefully well reasoned response to it. Here it is. For the remainder of this column, anything in italics are his words.

                In our hyper-connected age, everybody talks to everybody else, with all sorts of entertaining news . . . we 'blow up' the Twitterverse with our claptrap that masquerades as real conversations and human connections. Essentially we are talking to ourselves because no one is really listening.

                Why is no  one listening?  Is it because we're too enamored of our own opinions?  On the 'nets we are free to spout our opinion, often behind a protective layer of anonymity. This gives the added bonus of not having anyone get in our faces about what we've said. There's no consequences to commenting or re-tweeting. It might be, however, that we are instead too insecure in our opinions so that we must shout them louder than everyone else, lest we hear a contrary view that might upset our world. 

                We talk about nothing because to talk about something requires that we stop and think, read, study and consider. If we do that, we might miss something else as it goes zooming by. Our culture, particularly online culture thrives on the new and on things happening fast. This is not in itself new; St Luke notes in the Acts of the Apostles (17:21) that the Athenians spent all their time telling or hearing some new thing. The difference is that today the new thing arrives much more quickly. If we stop to think about any of it, several other things will have passed us by.

                We enjoy Twitter nitwits like Anthony Weiner . . . In many ways people like this deserve what they get, courtesy of the lightning rod we call the Internet.

              Nitwits like Weiner are ubiquitous - it is just that they now have a wider forum in which to display nitwittery. Lack of discretion and foolishness is also a part of the fallen human condition, which is to say it's not new either. The 'nets just make them visible to more people, for a brief period.

             The chattering masses may just want to be heard, to be recognized, to have someone validate their existence. I regretfully note that I check my page counts more than once a week. I am not immune to the lure of Internet fame. It is sad to think that counting 'likes'  or re-tweets may be the new Man's Search for Meaning. Why should we accept this "claptrap that masquerades as real conversations and human connections"? We need conversations and connections, but we simply will not find them on Twitter.  Twitter, by the way, is not the Internet. One can find a form of community online, if one looks for smaller venues that the Twitterverse - forums and blogs and discussion boards that have a common theme, whether hobbies or beliefs or what have you. I have had many informative and sometimes challenging conversations with others online who share my interests. This is still not the same thing as my friends with whom I play games or worship or do my work, but it is not nothing. It cannot however substitute for the real thing.

                It is an unfortunate truth that we often end up with the results that we fear because of something we did – especially when we are afraid or insecure – which is very common for the post-modern chattering masses.  We want to be heard, but don't listen. Listening is the first step to being heard: if you want others to listen to you, start by listening to them. By shouting (or TYPING IN ALL CAPS) we try to force others to listen to us, but it doesn't work. It may even encourage louder shouting on their part, to get you to listen to them.

                Twits, like Weiner and others, try to get our attention by being outrageous, but how long will it be before his stupidity is so commonplace as to no longer be shocking?  Then we will experience a new depth of outrageous stupidity, and another, and another. We deaden our sensibilities by continuing to absorb the barrage of outrageousness and ridiculousness, and eventually nothing is shocking. We can lose our ability to be shocked, and in the process, our ability to feel anything. 

          “This isn’t so much a reading problem – though it certainly is that - as it is a cultural shift to react, not think, to post, never reflect, to chatter and not shut up for even a second . . . for this we are giving up newspapers, personal communications, books, libraries and Lord only knows what else!?”  I don't Tweet, but I do read and write blogs. The ones I read most often are focused on specific activities - like librarianship, or writing, or my other job, sci-fi role-playing. Of the blogs that I read, I can say that I rarely come across a post that, whether short or long, isn't thought out and expressed with clarity. Often I find myself thinking, "now why didn't I write that?" or "I could write something about that myself". 

                I find these things that Mr. Herring says sad, rather than maddening. The Internet is a very large pond indeed, and we are very small fish. This in itself is difficult for most people (even me) to accept. Shout as we might, it's not going to make a lasting impression. With so many people making ripples on the pond, whatever ripples I may make will be swamped and broken up almost immediately.

                Europeans have long thought of Americans as shallow, frivolous and a bit too silly. But are we a bit too superficial for our own good?  Yes, of course we are. The Europeans look at us and think “Been there, done that” as if their jaded decadence is somehow better than the mess we've got. And of course, it is not like the Internet only exists in America. There are plenty of Euro-nitwits out there cluttering the Twitterverse, I'm sure.

                Andy Warhol supposedly promised everyone would be famous for 15 minutes. What are we supposed to do when the fifteen minutes are up and we get washed back into obscurity? Unplug. Get off the 'nets and go have a conversation with someone face to face. Accept our (relative) obscurity. We are not obscure to God. He made us to be in relationship with Him and with each other – in person, not as text on a screen. The 'nets are nice for information, weather reports and funny cat videos. But it is not where we were meant to live. 

                The irony is not lost on me that I have suggested that people unplug and spend less time online – on a social media site. Nor is it lost on me that almost no-one will read this. I must not be shouting loud enough.

Something is afoot at Deep in the Stacks

I've decided it time to make a change. I have greatly enjoyed the experience of blogging here at Deep in the Stacks, the challenge of finding material, of composing my thoughts, of resisting the temptation to be super self conscious about whether I'm getting readers or not. I don't want to give that up. 

Wait for it . . . 

So I'm not going to. What I am going to do is start a second blog. Now there will be two times the fun! Deep in the Stacks is not going anywhere, but I'm going to move most of my game-related and all of my Traveller related stuff to a new blog which will be about just that. I got some good advice recently about trying to cover too many bases. I enjoy writing about being a librarian; I enjoy writing about Traveller; I enjoy writing about Orthodoxy and its intersections with my job and my hobby. Starting soon, I'm going to be writing in two different places, which I hope will enable me to expand my writing about both.

Update, 4/11/2014
The new site is up! It will need some additional tweaking, but we are off and running. Several of the gaming-related posts have already disappeared from Deep in the Stacks and are now to be found at:

Ancient Faith in the Far Future

Life Lessons from Chess

     Over the weekend my younger son and I played a game of chess. It lasted two hours, which in itself is a testament to my son's improved concentration and focus. I started teaching my boys to play chess two years ago. I'm not a great player but I do all right if I can remember to always look down the board for the likely response to my move. I can't count the number of games that I've lost because of a hasty move that cost me a key piece, usually the queen. As I reflected on this defect in my own play, I got to thinking during a short break about the lessons about life one can learn from chess. Below are few things that came to mind. I can't really claim any special insight or wisdom, and probably better chess players could add a lot to this. All the same, this is my blog, so here's what I think one can learn about life and living from chess:
 
Be patient. Chess is not like arcade games. You have time to think, use it.

Consider the consequences before you make a move; and its' corollary: Everything you do will have consequences.
 
Cooperation is better than going it alone. Ask any Knight or Bishop that has been sent to die on the enemy's line all by itself.


Respect everyone, even the little guys. A lowly pawn can take down the King, and a pawn that sneaks to your back line is suddenly a very BIG problem.


Whether you win or lose any particular game, it is always an opportunity for you to learn something. It can be about your play, your opponents, or about life above the board. Every game can make you better.   

Planning is a good thing. Having no plan leaves you at the mercy of an opponent who does have one. 

You can wish for a perfect setup if you want, but the setup you have to deal with is the one on the board. Take life as it comes and make the best of it.

You will have to change your plans if your opponent doesn't cooperate. Which he probably won't.

You always have to make a move on your turn, so make the best one you can. Even if it is not an ideal move, do something. No one wins at anything by being frozen in place.

Opponent is not the same thing as Enemy. When you're playing for fun, play to win, but shake hands and be a good winner OR loser. No one should lose a friend over a chess game.

Expect some losses along the way. No one wins a chess game with their whole army intact. Everyone will face some defeats in life, but as long as you're alive you can keep playing. (Yes, I know there's the Fool's Mate, but seriously, how often does that happen?)
 
Abandon your plan as soon as it is clear that it won't work. Evil Overlords throughout history have lost it all by clinging to their Evil Plan that isn't working.


Skill and patience, not luck will get you to your goal. Sure, you will get lucky sometimes, but you have no control over when and how often. It is the same as not having a plan.

Every move entails some risk. You can manage it with good planning, but never eliminate it. Learn to live with uncertainty.

And let me conclude with what is our unofficial family motto:

Latin - “tardus stabilis laborque, finis obtineatur”  
English - By slow and steady labor the goal is achieved.


If you've got Chess advice for Life, please add it in the comments section.  

For the record, my son did not beat me (this time) but he did have me on the ropes once or twice. I expect that he will beat me in the not too distant future. If I've taught him to play chess, great. If I've taught him how to live life, even better. 

Just Across Town has been published

     My second work of short science fiction, Just Across Town, has been published in this month's issue of Gallery of Worlds, published by Lantern Hollow Press! The journal is available as a Kindle e-book, which you can purchase at Amazon.com.  I made up a book cover with the help of the Pulp-o-Mizer. The cover is not available with the Kindle edition, it is available only here on this blog. Enjoy.
 

     A while back I wrote up short descriptions of the main characters, which you can find here:
http://deepinthestax.blogspot.com/2011/11/just-across-town-meet-characters.html
http://deepinthestax.blogspot.com/2011/12/just-across-town-meet-characters-2.html
http://deepinthestax.blogspot.com/2011/12/just-across-town-meet-characters-3.html

 an excerpt from Just Across Town:
      As Alex was speaking, Consul Tellis dashed out onto the balcony and crouched next to Alex and Eddie. “Captain Howard, I am going to need you and your crew to help me. I'm sure by now you've observed that we are under attack. I need you to . . . .” Several flashes of light played on the palace walls, followed a fraction later by a stutter of booms, mixed with cries of pain from below and frightened screams from the guests on the balcony, who fled in panic. Alex peered through the balcony railing to see squads of Jorabite guardsmen forming up on the hilltop to face the invaders. They were terribly outnumbered, but stood their ground  . . . as Alex watched, most of them fell before the flash-and-boom of the strange guns. The survivors retreated back to the palace through a side door, behind the cover of the cloud of gray smoke the guns produced. Somewhere above them, a bell rang out.
      Consul Tellis tried again, “I need you to get me to the military headquarters building. If we are to stop this invasion, I have to get there.” Alex looked at Eddie, who was looking out at the soldiers advancing towards the palace. The first of them had reached the doors, and had forced them open. As they began to file inside, Alex counted heads, and wished he had brought even his sidearm with him.

and later on . . . 


     Meanwhile, Eddie, Alex and the Consul had made a dash across the street to the shadow of another house. Eddie leaned against the wall, gasping for air. “Gehenna, I wish I could breathe,” He panted. “Yeah, that would be nice,” Alex nodded agreement and sank to the ground. Eddie managed a wry smile. “You know, I always said I wanted to see the universe, but this wasn't what I had in mind.”
      Consul Tellis gave a short laugh, “So why did you buy your ship, then, Captain Howard?” Eddie puffed a few more times and then answered. “I spent twenty years in the Space Patrol, right? Never once in that whole time did we ever leave the Kingdom. We just patrolled the same places over and over again. I wanted to get out and explore. That was what I thought I'd be doing when I joined the Patrol. I saved up all the money I could and got out and bought the Not Yet. I like the name, right? It reminds me there's still more to see. 'Have we seen everything?' 'Not Yet.'” “Well,” Alex remarked, “if we want to do any more exploring, we've got to get this business finished first. Let's get moving again as soon as Jake and Scott catch up.”

Defenestration

     Defenestration - this has long been one of my favorite words. It's so odd-sounding and complicated and funny all at the same time. It is an uncommon word, but it has shown up in odd places like an old Calvin & Hobbes Sunday comic strip. I've used it in conversation and a few years ago when I was laying a new floor in our bedroom, I actually did it. If you don't know about this wonderfully odd word, check out this informative video from Merriam-Webster.com (an invaluable resource for wordsmiths).

Defenestration

     Now, I don't recommend or approve of throwing people out of windows, just for the record. While I was installing new flooring, it was convenient for me to throw the wood scraps and packaging out the window, onto my deck, where I collected it and disposed of it. Defenestration saved me the trouble of hauling it all down the stairs, is all. 

Feast Day of St Thomas the Apostle

     Today in the West we celebrate the feast of my patron saint, Thomas the Apostle. 

     In the Orthodox Tradition, he is known not for his doubt, but for his wonderful confession of faith "My Lord and My God!" when he came face to face with the risen Savior.  It is a pious custom in the West to confess as did St Thomas "My Lord and My God" when the priest presents the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist.
     The Lord commended Thomas for his faith, and furthermore blessed those in the generations to come saying "Blessed are they that do not see, and yet believe." 
     Holy Apostle Thomas, by your intercession to Christ our God, may our faith be strengthened and may our souls be saved. Amen.

Just Across Town nearing publication?

     Many, many months ago, I put up a series of posts introducing characters from a short story I was writing, called Just Across Town. I am glad to announce that I've finally gotten it done (enough) to submit to the good folks at Lantern Hollow Press, who published my story Snowball last year. I am hopeful that they will publish JAT in their spring issue, but I figure if they don't, then I'll break it up into segments and publish it here, in serial format, like Charles Dickens (no, I'm not putting myself in the same category of writer as Dickens).
     The story is how my four main characters, who are touring their way around My Traveller Universe, find themselves at the wrong (right?) place at the wrong (right?) time and have to take a dangerous journey of only a few miles under difficult conditions in order to save the day.

Librarians in the Classroom

      Today I had another opportunity to get out of my office and interact with the students. I spoke with an English class, freshman composition, talking about the library's resources, Interlibrary loan and what we can do to help the students in their research. I always appreciate the chance to do this, if for not other reason than it give me a chance to talk about a subject that I enjoy. I cannot, however, help but notice that not all of the students react with the same enthusiasm about the library that I have.

      I see a remarkable contrast from one class to another in their reactions. Just last week I met with two classes, back to back, giving the same lecture on the same subject to both. The first group seemed to be paying attention, asking questions and answering the ones I throw out to give them a chance to interact with the material I present. The even laughed at my few laugh lines. I have had to monitor myself to resist the urge to 'play to my audience' and try to be funny.

      The second class had the same number of students, but they spoke not a word. I was only a few minutes into my lecture when I realized that this group was not as 'live' as the previous one. This kind of class is why I don't try to be funny. It's dreadful when you pop a knee-slapper and it dies in the first row. No questions were asked or answered and a dull silence for the rest of the lecture.

      Now which of these two groups got more out of my presentation? I couldn't say. Hopefully, they all got one or two bits of useful information about the research process and I pointed them towards new and appropriate research resources. At least the classroom teachers get to give them quizzes to find out if they've learned anything. Once in a great while I have a student drop by my office to ask for help, so I must at least that often make a positive impression.

September 11, 2001

     I don't need to say much and I'm not going to say much about this day and what it means to us as Americans. Yes, we have our political differences but 9-11 wasn't an attack on a political party or candidate, it was an attack on all of us who bear the name American. Even as we wrestle with the important issues of choosing a future course for this country, let us remember that while we may be political opponents, we are all Americans together. 

     May God have mercy upon our nation, and remember with mercy the souls of the departed who were taken from us by our enemies. 

A moment of silence, please. That is all.

RIP Harry Harrison

     The news is no longer current, but I have just learned that author Harry Harrison died on August 15th. Harrison was the author of (among other things) a long running series of sci-fi stories featuring the intergalactic master thief James "Slippery Jim" DiGriz, better known as the Stainless Steel Rat. I first read Harrison's stories in Junior High school because my sister was reading them. I enjoyed the stories immensely, and even tried once to make a home-made audio book of "The Stainless Steel Rat for President". 
     I can't say that Harrison directly influenced any of my Traveller gaming, but I'm going to go back and re-read The Stainless Steel Rat books to mine them for Traveller ideas.

     Some of his works are available for free online from Project Gutenburg and from Librivox, including "Deathworld" and "The Misplaced Battleship". Have a read/listen of some great classic science fiction and say a prayer for the soul of our departed friend. May his memory be eternal!

Back on the Track again

     This past weekend, (my, the days have been busy since the peace & quiet of Saturday morning) I went to the local HS track again to run two miles. My younger son accompanied me this time. He tried to keep up with Daddy but at his age, that wasn't going to happen. However, he did manage to complete four laps around for a total of one mile, in about 15 minutes.  Several times he waited for me at the 'finish line' and ran part of the lap around with me until he couldn't keep up. Now what I'm hoping to do is get my older son up there as well. He's started with a local soccer league, and needs to build his wind up. Plus it will keep me honest with doing my own running. I finished two miles in a little over 17 minutes, and if I want to do any races this fall, I should pick up the pace and get that time down.

Memory Eternal Fr. Peter Gillquist

     I learned when I arrived at work this morning that Fr. Peter E. Gillquist, Sr. fell asleep in the Lord last night after a long battle with melanoma. He was until his retirement the priest of
All Saints Orthodox Church in Bloomington, Indiana. Fr. Peter was part of Campus Crusade for Christ back in the '70s and '80s until he and a group of ministers began a serious search for authentic first century Christianity, and discovered that it still existed to this day, in the Orthodox Church. In 1987 he and several thousand people in the United States all came home to Orthodoxy together, and ever since, Fr Peter was  a tireless evangelist for the Faith.  I met Fr. Peter personally several times since my own journey to Orthodoxy. He spoke several times at the Saint Stephens Course in Orthodox Theology, held at the Antiochian Village Camp & Conference Center. He also came to our parish and spoke to a gathering of Orthodox Christians from around the area about evangelism. Some friends of mine in our parish first visited because of Fr. Peter.  One time when we were speaking, I asked him what kind of music he enjoyed listening to, and he introduced me to the 1950's vocal jazz group The Four Freshmen. I've enjoyed the 4F ever since.
     Fr. Peter was attended by family and friends, and went to be with the Lord he loved in peace. May his memory be eternal!

A video of Fr. Peter talking about Finding the New Testament Church. 

Gaming Report - Antietam

     My older son and I have once again taken the plunge into a tabletop wargame. This time the subject is the Battle of Antietam, (Sept 14, 1862). The game is part of SPI's Blue & Gray set (1975); SPI was James Dunnigan's game company. This was the battle where Union General George McClellan squandered an opportunity to deal a decisive blow to General Robert E. Lee's Army of Northern Virginia. Some have argued that if Lee had been crushed here, the War Between the States might have come to an end in 1862. I don't know about that, but I've been interested in this battle for several years, after visiting the battlefield in Sharpsburg, MD, and discovering that my side of the family has an ancestor who fought in this battle, Benjamin F. Jamison, of the 125th PA Regiment (1Bde, 1Div, 12th Corps).  When I covered this battle in my military history class last year, I used this book from the Army Center of Military History: Antietam Staff Ride.
    My son elected to play the Confederacy, which is the less complicated side to play. All the Confederates have to do is survive and be able to exit the map via ferry over the Potomac by the last turn. The Union's task is to capture/eliminate as many Confederates as possible and secondarily to capture Sharpsburg. The Union has one big limitation, though. To model McClellan's indecisiveness, the Union side can move only 10 units per turn, while the Confederates have no restriction. 
     Five turns into the game, and very little of significance has happened. The Confederates have retreated and massed around Sharpsburg, they have units protecting the ferry and are maintaining a decent perimeter. The Union forces, such as I can get to move, are across Antietam creek, but so far have had no luck in getting past the Confederates to cut off their retreat. I am in position to get troops into Sharpsburg; possession of the town is a major victory point consideration. The Confederates managed to isolate, surround and destroy two Union brigades, pinning them against the Potomac upstream from the ferry. 
     The last half of the game proved to be much more exciting.  The Union forces momentarily broke the South's hold on Sharpsburg but lost it on the next turn; the Confederate counterattack was costly to them, but effective. Then on the following turn, a small Union force cut off the bulk of Lee's army from the ferry with a picket line of units. On the last turn of the game Confederate forces launched a costly assault on the western end of the picket, which succeeded in turning the Union flank, and were able to break through to re-open the line of retreat to the ferry. With the setting of the sun, the Union forces were ordered to hold in place, and watched in frustration as nearly all of Lee's force marched away to safety on the far side of the Potomac. 
     I haven't studied the battle sufficiently to really venture an opinion in print as to whether another Union commander would have been more successful, say Meade for example. In the game, though, the movement restriction on the Union forces meant that over half of my forces spent the battle sitting on their setup hex, never getting orders to advance. There were maybe 20 brigades out of the over 40 on the field that did all the fighting. Simply infuriating to see opportunities open up that I couldn't exploit simply because I didn't have enough units to move into the area. 
     In the final analysis, while I picked off over a dozen Confederate units while losing only four myself, the accomplishment of his two objectives meant that my son won a substantive victory. Next we're going to try Chicamauga, and see how that plays out. A good game, over all.

Animals in the Kingdom of God

     Yesterday afternoon I buried a cat. A friend of ours, a single mom, had to put the family cat down, and the kids wanted it to be buried in the back yard. So I dug a hole (no easy feat in Virginia red clay) and we laid the cat to rest.
     Although the kids did not ask me "is our cat in heaven now?", I believe that we very well may see beloved pets in the Kingdom of God. I can't speak formally for the Church's position on this, to the best of my research she doesn't have one. It has never come up as a question that needed a definitive answer. All the same, taking what I do know about the life of the world to come, I'd like to lay out my case for why we may have pets in the kingdom.
      The Church confesses in the Nicene Creed that God created all things visible and invisible, which includes pets. Genesis (1:25) tells us that when God created the beasts of the field, He saw that it was good. The Church teaches that Jesus became Incarnated to redeem not only fallen humanity, but all of creation as well.
      Many of the prayers of the Church (St. John Chrysostom's liturgy is full of these) which ask for God's mercy include the statement "For You are good and love mankind" It is in God's nature to love us, and do good for us.
     So, God made animals, and animals are good, and the animal kingdom will be redeemed along with mankind at the Second Coming when Christ makes all things new. The dead in Christ will be raised and their bodies restored and glorified. It is not at all a stretch to believe that beloved family pets may be so raised as well. This would be a cause for much joy among His people, and our loving Father loves to give good gifts to His children.
     This is my reasoning which leads me to believe that we may (I cannot say will, for I am no prophet, nor do I read God's mind) have our pets with us in the Kingdom of God.

Didn't See That Coming, Round Two

     This evening, while I was out walking my dogs, I happened to notice a bit of commotion in front of the townhouse directly opposite mine. I walked over to investigate and found my across-the-street neighbors, college students at the school where I work, had succeeded in locking themselves out of their house. Fortunately this was not one of those movie setups where someone got out of the shower and went outside in a towel. But I digress. Despite the niggling concern that I might have been aiding and abetting housebreakers, I fetched my ladder and one of the students hoisted themselves into an upstairs window that was unlocked. As the fellow was half-way through the window, one of the ones holding the ladder optimistically opined "what could go wrong now?" I was reminded of THIS entry over at TV Tropes. Yes, I spend a lot of time reading there. It's fun. You should go have a look. Well the fellow got in, and the door was unlocked, and they weren't thieves, and now I'm going to bed. What fun it is to have college students for neighbors.

Gaming Report - Battle of Chantilly

       This morning I served as referee as my sons and two of their friends re-fought the Battle of Chantilly, also known as Ox Hill. Never heard of it?  Not surprising, as it was historically a minor skirmish between the 2nd Battle of Bull Run and the Battle of Antietam. Look it up. Then Examine the map.
     Right from the start, this battle was a toe-to-toe slugfest.  The Confederate forces, attempting to stop Pope's retreat back to Washington, took up positions on and around Ox Hill, near Chantilly. The game objective for the Union was to force the Confederates off of Ox Hill, and the Confederates had to hang on to the hill for two hours, the game's stated length. 

      The Union forces, occupying some covering stands of trees, pushed forward aggressively, both sides charging into melee every turn. The Confederate artillery on Ox Hill quickly silenced the Union guns in a classic artillery duel, but Union reinforcements were able to replace the guns and knock out the Ox Hill batteries. The Confederates, fearful of being pushed off the map by morale checks in melee, advanced into the Union lines, and brigades got mowed down like wheat. 

     After two hours of close in fighting the remnants of the Confederate forces re-grouped on Ox Hill, consisting of several brigade-less commanders, a third of Stafford's brigade and Gen Kearney's staff. One of the last three intact Union brigades charged up the hill to push the Confederates off. The whole battle came down to one die roll - whichever side rolled higher would hold the hill and win the game. Much to our surprise, the tottering Confederates held on by a fingertip, and forced the Union back as time ran out. There was much cheering and some weeping, but everyone had a good time. We hope that there will be more events like this over the summer.

Commercial Space Ship takes flight

     This morning a privately owned spacecraft took off from Florida, to deliver a payload to the International Space Station.   Here's the full article from CNN:

   

     As an American, I think it's great that the private sector is getting involved in space travel. As a Traveller, I think it's even more cool. We are taking another step forward in the long journey to the stars.