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Thursday, June 12, 2008

Shannelleran, Day 1

By: Unknown

0 comments

Let's see how much discipline I have.

So, here's the plan: I have a story I've been wanting to write. I'm going to try to do 30 minutes or more of writing a day for a while. We'll see how long it lasts. When I'm done with a chapter, I'll post the chapter. Or maybe when I finish the short story, depending on how this goes. I'll post the day's work on IVIC and a notification on CoK. The chapters or whatever they end up being will be on both.




Shennelleran, Day 1

As the first dim light of dawn filled the cobblestone square, Kilrick peered around the corner of the small peasant house. He seemed to be the first one awake and about in the little village, which was not unusual: he had always been an early riser, and his years of travel had made him still more accustomed to living with a lack of sleep. “Just as well,” he muttered. “I always have to explain myself when people catch me sleeping in the open.” Satisfied that the square was empty, Kilrick stepped out from the shadows.

He felt very conspicuous in the middle of that dismal little burgh, even though it was empty. The town of Darl’s Folly lay like discarded buildings on the shore of once-charming Lake Velindra. The waters swam still and silent, with no river current to mix the dark pond. It was something of a geological oddity: rain or some dead stream had filled a small, awkward depression at some point in the distant past. A large population of fish had once dwelled in the lake when the water was still crystal blue, supported by a pleasant climate and a complete lack of natural predators in the isolated pond. The city of Darlhaven sprang up around Lake Velindra and was swiftly made profitable through the fishing industry and an enviable trade position.

The city soon grew too large for the little lake, the fish population stuttering to a genealogical halt as Darlhaven grasped for food and profit. The pleasant trade road running through the area was forsaken when the Kingdom of Genream to the east finally conquered the long-hostile Sintreln, south of Darlhaven. With the steady and swift waterways of the Sintreln open to the Kingdom, trade with the western Grand Empire of Halreln doubled as the easy but slow overland route was forsaken.

The city soon fell into decline, the imposing balustrades and statuary of the famed Darlhaven Exchange collapsing in disrepair and ruin. Blooms of algae choked the lake, turning the peaceful pond into the brown bog that now lay alongside the village. The people struggled to farm, eking out a living by raking through the muck of the moist land. The population of Darlhaven fell, with the council steadily relenting to changes of moniker: from the Trade City of Darlhaven, to the City of Darlhaven, the Town of Darlhaven, Darlhaven Village and finally Darl’s Folly, the blame for the great city’s failure placed unfairly on the shoulders of its founder.

So, it would seem odd and, for some, cruel for a knight in full armor to stand amidst the ruins of the once-great metropolis. Kilrick always found it difficult to convince townsfolk that it was not pride or mockery that made him constantly outfit himself in his finery. Rather, he had no mule, no squire or page, so it was only practical to wear his armor while he travelled. Still, Kilrick couldn’t help but anxiously rub the hilt of his whitesteel longsword as if he thought it a talisman to ward off conflict.


By my hand,
~Michael Akerman

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Lost Traveller

By: Unknown

0 comments

On the cobblestone street
That I tread on my way
The weary old traveler
Lies sleeping each day.

His clothes were once rich,
But now lay in rags.
His possessions are meager,
In just two small bags.

A battered old lute
Rests with nary a string
With no cover, no draping
To prevent weather's sting.

Curious one day,
I glanced in his eye.
There the fire of genius
Lay waiting to die.

He closed his eyes, dreaming,
As if lost in the past
When his cards had been dealt
And his die had been cast.

"Excuse me," I stated,
"But I can't help but wonder
How you came to this streetside
And the weight you live under."

He smiled up thinly
To acknowledge my sight
And nodded to tell me
My inference was right.

"Life is fickle, my friend,
But more so is fame.
While luck may come quickly
It leaves as it came.

It's true I was famous,
My name knew renown,
But my muse, she soon fled me
And my pen was set down.

My patrons forgot me,
My music ceased playing.
Those who said that they loved me
Could not bother with staying.

While glory may seem fine,
Those you find there aren't true.
They don't stay beside you
When you're feeling blue.

True friends are faithful
And in hardship, steadfast:
You'll find them in those
Who care naught for your past."

I sat with him a while
And thanked him for his time,
And walked away thinking
That his words were sublime.

For he had seen truth
When he fell to his distress,
And I hoped, through my work,
That his words would live, endless.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Think Happy Thoughts

By: Unknown

1 comments

What's your happiest memory?

What event do you look back on, and you can't help but smile? What do you see as the most beautiful moment in your life so far?

I ask this because I was remembering my favorite memory yesterday, which I'll get to in a moment. I was thinking about it, and I think the moment that we consider as our favorite instance in our lives can reveal a lot about what we hold most dear, what we yearn for, and how we consider ourselves.

I'm also just curious about the stories behind other people.

Anyway, my happiest memory is musical.

During my junior year of high school, which was the last year I was in band, we were playing Sweet Georgia Brown as one of our concert band songs. As Mr. Solomon had volunteered to play mandolin with the band for that song (and maybe some others, I don't remember), Mr. Oldham (the band director) decided to loop a rhythm-heavy, melody-poor section and let some volunteers from the band play an improvisational solo over that section.

As a preface, I love playing improvisational jazz. I've been good at it at least since high school, finding myself easily capable of tracing a melodic line from the underlying current of the rhythm and the energy of the room. I wonder sometimes if I'm capable of it (well, was. I haven't tried in ages) because I'm good at math, or for some other talent that also makes me mathematically inclined, or if it's simply unrelated. The link between music and mathematics is fairly well established. I've also got plenty of anecdotal evidence: most of the engineers I know are musicians. At any rate, it seems to me that I evince the right notes to play a beautiful melody in the same way that I pluck out the correct equations and operators to manipulate an equation.

I jumped at the chance to play, of course. We practiced for the length of the semester, but only for the last several practice sessions did the soloists perform in the song. I remember that at least one person played effectively the same thing each time, finding a pleasing ditty and sticking to it with few modifications. The performance was pleasant enough, but it lacked a spark: the energy of the room wasn't in the music. For my part, I improvised. I thought I sounded fine, of course, but it was never anything exceptional.

On the day of the concert, the soloists were to move to the front of the stage in a preplanned order, taking a place next to the mandolinist, the focal point of the audience, and play for a few measures. The band played the opening songs of that concert, whatever they were, and the introduction to Sweet Georgia Brown with no major problems. This, of course, brings us to my part, since I was the first soloist.

I wonder if I can even describe the feeling in words, but words are all I have. Moving to the front of the stage, there were stage lights in front of me and Mr. Solomon to my left, strumming the entrance to the solo section. Audience and saxophone in front, band behind. All eyes on me. And no fear. No nervousness. I felt a purity of stillness, the music of the band washing over me, and I smiled and nodded at Mr. Solomon as I reached the microphone. Closing my eyes for a moment, I brought my saxophone up, a slight smile playing around the edges of my mouthpiece. I played: elements from different parts of the tune danced in and out of the solo as I followed the course that the band set, skipping along the surface of the melody one moment, plunging into the rhythm the next, an otter at play in a river. The music enveloped me, coursing through me, directing my path; the audience drove me, energizing the music, forming my cadence and style. The solo entwined with the room, with the band, with me. The performance was barely mine to control; rather, I served as the instrument of the music that had to be, willingly giving myself over to the tune.

It would be wrong to say, as is cliche, that time stood still. Instead, I had no cognizance of time at all. As if eternity itself coiled through me, writhed around me, erupted from me, I didn't count the measures because the measures were meaningless. I played until the music was finished. I played until the music was supposed to stop, not because of the rules imposed by the performance, but because that was the best way for the music to be. Miraculously, unconsciously, the solo reached it's pinnacle and subsided right at the limit imposed by the rules. The music had confined itself to the limits imposed by mundane necessity, though it felt like it could have strung me along forever.

The feeling was, I suppose, zen. At no other point have I felt so connected to the thrum of the universe and at no other point have I been so proud of my performance. I wonder, sometimes, if it's on tape anywhere, and whether or not I can get a copy of that concert. I'm also terrified of finding one, however. I fear that I wasn't as good as I think I was, or that the performance would be flat, lifeless. How could it be anything but lifeless on a recorded medium, without the pulse of the audience omnipresent? I don't want anything to spoil it because the feeling is what I remember, the performance be damned.

I've stepped back from myself to try to look at that moment from time to time. I think I love it because it was fully my accomplishment: it was not a song taught to me, nor was it something I had carefully planned. The solo had been driven and drawn by the music and the audience, certainly, but it had come through me and from me. Furthermore, it was like the best moments of science: I touched the fabric of the universe, and understood some small, magnificent portion of it, if only for that fleeting space. And, perhaps most fantastically, it was something only I could have performed. I can teach a skill in math or science, or instruct someone how to write with my style, but that performance was unique for the history of the universe: there is no one, anywhere, that can recreate it exactly, including myself.

So, I wonder. What is your happiest memory? What makes you smile to yourself in private? The comments are open.

By my hand,
~Michael Akerman

Sunday, September 09, 2007

A Poem to Break the Silence

By: Unknown

0 comments

To all the times we laughed and played
In long-departed summer days
That passed away like so much haze.

To all our friends and foes and ilk,
And lunchtimes over chocolate milk,
With stature short and skin still silk.

To life within that golden time
When joy we plucked from springtime vines
And the future stood, a glorious line.

Here's to what we'd thought we'd be:
The glories that we thought we'd see,
The lives that we all thought we'd lead,
Inspired by hope and not by greed.

Here's to the dreams you once conceived,
The dreams, I hope, you still believe.
Before this mortal shell you leave,
Here's hoping those dreams you'll still achieve.




By my hand,
~Michael Akerman

Friday, July 20, 2007

Harry Potter Must Die!!!!!

By: UnrepentantNewDealer

1 comments

I bet that got your attention. Actually, I harbor no particular ill-will towards Harry Potter, that was just a shameless attempt to get people to read this. Though, rest assured, I do think J.K. Rowling should knock him off in her seventh and final installment in the Harry Potter odyssey, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, which hits bookstores in about two hours. The New York Times and other papers have apparently illicitly obtained copies in advance and have printed reviews spoiling the endings. I have nothing but contempt for spoilers and have not read or sought out any spoiler details. However, I have been thinking about what the Deathly Hallows was likely to contain and I do have a few predictions.

Dumbledore and Snape

1) Albus Dumbledore: He's Pushing Up Daisies

Yep, let's face it, he's dead and not likely to be coming back. I know some people still refuse to accept this, but it's the truth. Rowling said, point-blank, "He's dead." That's good enough for me. There was something very fishy about the way he died (see below) in the "Half-Blood Prince," but he's still dead. From a writer's standpoint, what good would a revived or resurrected Dumbledore be? He served as Harry's mentor and protector all these years, but the common theme in any myth is that the apprentice cannot stay under the master forever. The master must be removed from the story so that the apprentice can realize his destiny (think how Obi-Wan was killed off in Star Wars, for instance). There is so much that Harry will have to accomplish in book 7 and so many loose ends to tie up that I doubt Rowling will go the trouble to complicate things more by bringing back Dumbledore (or Sirius, for that matter). To Albus, I wish you a fond farewell.

2) Severus Snape: Good Guy

The first time I read book 6, I was floored when I read the scene in which Snape kills Dumbledore. Despite all the clues Rowling had been dropping throughout the book (and in previous books) about Snape's malignant ways, I had refused to see it. Still, I find it hard to accept, though I think there are compelling reasons to doubt Snape's treason.

Earlier in the book, Hagrid reported to Harry and Co. that he'd heard Snape telling Dumbledore that he'd changed his mind and was no longer willing to do it anymore and Dumbledore told him firmly that Snape had promised to it, and so he would have to anyway. Do what? Hagrid assumed Snape was no longer willing to teach at Hogwarts anymore, but that seems unlikely since he'd never before expressed a willingness to leave Hogwarts. What else could Snape and Dumbledore have been arguing over?

At the beginning of "Half-Blood Prince," Dumbledore is severely wounded from destroying one of Voldemort's horcruxes. Snape is able to stop the spread of the poison, apparently, but Dumbledore's hand is dead from this point on. Not to belabor the obvious, but a Snape committed to killing Dumbledore hardly would have saved his life. He could have withheld the appropriate treatment and everyone else would have thought that Snape had tried his hardest, but his hardest just wasn't good enough.

To the contrary, what if Snape wasn't really able to save Dumbledore at all? What if the poison was beyond the powers of Snape to repair? Remember how Snape had bragged about his ability to do many seemingly-miraculous things, including "stopper death"? While I'm not sure what "stoppering death" would entail exactly, my guess is that Snape was able to slow the spread of the poison, to give Dumbledore more time before it finally killed him.

Why would Dumbledore need more time? Because he had to tell Harry everything he knew about Tom Riddle/Voldemort and his horcruxes, so that he could carry on the fight after Dumbledore was dead. It is interesting that it is only in book six that Dumbledore all of a sudden reveals all of this to Harry. After having Harry under his wing for five years, only now does he get down to business, when his mind is concentrated by his impending death. Dumbledore clearly knew his time on Earth was coming to an end (indeed, perhaps it already had, and Dumbledore was in some sense dead, a "walking dead" if you will, during Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts even before the final confrontation on the Astronomy Tower, though I consider this less likely.) Thus when Snape Avada Kedavra'd Dumbledore, he wasn't killing Dumbledore so much as removing the "stopper" he'd placed on death (or alternatively, assuming Dumbledore already in some sense dead, Avada Kedavra would not have "killed" the already technically-dead Dumbledore).

All this was perhaps prefigured in the very first HP book, when Dumbledore revealed that Nicolas Flamel and his wife needed the elixir of life to "set their affairs in order" before they passed on. It stands to reason Dumbledore needed time for the same purpose as well. (I must admit I was not the first to come up with the "stoppered death" theory, so
credit where it's due.)

Alternatively, Dumbledore's death may have been necessitated by the fact that Snape had taken an Unbreakable Oath to help Draco accomplish his task to kill Dumbledore. Snape, I think, agreed to this because doing so would help him gain favor with the Dark Lord, and allow him an opportunity to betray him at a later date. He was also probably acting under Dumbledore's orders to do this, though that's not perfectly clear. In any case, Dumbledore trusted Snape for some reason, though no one else seems to know why.

Snape was a master occlumens and could have shielded his thoughts from Dumbledore (or Voldemort) but Dumbledore trusted him anyway. Snape probably swore an Unbreakable Oath to help Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix back when he started at Hogwarts. The two oaths are mutually exclusive, meaning that Snape's life would have been forfeit. If Dumbledore ordered Snape to kill him, however, he would have been helping Draco fulfill his task while at the same time being completely faithful to the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps Dumbledore saw some good that Snape could accomplish this way and considered the cost of his own life to be worth it. Who knows which theory is right? Either way, Snape is a "good guy," of some sort anyway.

The clearest evidence of Snape's "goodness" is that in Snape's flight with the Death Eaters from the castle, he cast no deadly spells at any of the Order or any of the children. When Harry tried to attack him, Snape cast away the curses without casting any deadly ones or even seriously injurious ones back at Harry. Instead, he gave Harry advice on how to cast spells properly, advice such as casting word-less spells. While the advice was couched in the language of mockery, it was still advice Snape was under no obligation to give his foe. Finally, when one of the Death Eaters tried to cast a Cruciatus curse at Potter, Snape stopped him, saying, "Potter belongs to the Dark Lord." But wouldn't Voldemort have been even more pleased with Snape if he'd not only killed Dumbledore but killed or brought Harry Potter back with him? Something doesn't add up here, a lot of somethings.

Not to mention the fact that Snape put his three most closely-held memories in the Pensieve in book 5, and Potter saw one of them (it was Snape being picked on James Potter and his gang and Snape then lashing out at Lilly Potter, an act for which he clearly felt terrible later.) Snape was furious when he caught Harry, but he had no idea what memory he'd seen. My point here is this: if one of the other two memories was about continuing to serve Voldemort as a double agent, wouldn't he assume the worst, that Harry had seen his betrayal of the Order? Instead, he seemed merely embarrassed that Harry had seen him weak and vulnerable. All the evidence seems to point to Snape being good.

Horcruxes

Well, I went on at greater length there than I had meant to. A quick note about horcruxes: Voldemort apparently made six horcruxes so that his soul would be divided into seven pieces, seven being a magical number. It appears those horcruxes were Tom Riddle's Diary (destroyed), Slytherin's ring (destroyed), Slytherin's locket (found by someone known as R.A.B. who I imagine is Regulus Black, as he is the only character I know of with the initials R.B.; the locket may not have been destroyed as Kreacher is mentioned in book 5 as having secreted away a number of Dark Magic artifacts, including a heavy locket that could not be opened....) , the Hufflepuff cup, and two unnamed objects (though I suspect his snake Nagini is one of them, as he seems to possess her at times).

The big question is whether Harry himself is a horcrux. To create a horcrux, one has to commit murder, so it's quite possible Voldemort intended to create another horcrux after the murder of James and Lilly Potter, along with their son. Presumably, somehow during the confrontation, Voldemort unknowingly turned Harry into a horcrux. This would explain why Harry has so many of Voldemort's characteristics (such as being a parseltongue) and why Voldemort and Harry have some kind of mental link. It might also explain Harry's scar;
Orson Scott Card thinks that the scar itself is the horcrux, but I am operating under the assumption that horcruxes have to be preexisting objects (for example, the diary) rather than objects created during the casting of the horcrux spell itself. Either way, it seems that Harry is indeed a horcrux, which means that the horcrux within himself must be destroyed before Voldemort can be destroyed (which may very well entail Harry's death, though I suspect he will find a way to destroy it without killing himself).

To finish, I will merely compile a hit list of characters I think are likely to die in book 7, though I could be completely wrong (and in some cases, I hope I am.)

The List of Doom

-Voldemort: He's the main bad guy, so unless evil triumphs, Voldemort is the only sure casualty.

-Wormtail: He still owes Harry that life-debt, so he will help Harry at a crucial moment, betraying Voldemort and most likely dying in the process. I don't think anyone else has commented on it, but I am intrigued by the similarities between Wormtail and Wormtongue from the Lord of the Rings. Both are sniveling, pathetic creatures who slavishly serve their respective dark masters. But Wormtongue in the end gets so fed up with being treated so badly by Saruman that he betrays him, literally stabbing him in the back, before himself being killed. I don't know if Rowling has even read the Lord of the Rings, but I can't help but think that the similarity here is deliberate.

Snape: He will also "betray" Voldemort at some point (he actually betrayed him long ago), though he might not die in the process. I'd still bet he doesn't outlive Voldemort though.

Draco Malfoy: Who cares? He's a relatively minor character who is a coward, to boot, so I don't imagine it much matters whether he lives or dies. My bet is he tries to run from the Death Eaters and pays the inevitable price.

Hagrid: He was an important character early on (serving as a mentor to Harry), but not recently. His character doesn't have much to do, so he could safely be axed, yet he is a beloved character, so his death would be felt deeply by the other characters and fans alike. I'm afraid he's a goner, though I'd like to be proven wrong.

Arthur Weasley: Molly Weasly has worried about one of her family being struck down from the beginning. The Weasley's are a large family and are all engaged in the struggle against Voldemort. It would take a miracle for them all to emerge unscathed. Arthur and Bill have both had brushes with death, and it seems likely that was foreshadowing for what is to come. My money is on Arthur dying, though I hope he doesn't, because he's always been one of my favorites.

Harry: He might not have to die, but one theme running through the series seems to be the self-sacrificing hero (think Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore). It would almost be out of place for good to prevail without self-sacrifice. Perhaps the others who will die to bring down Voldemort will mean that Harry won't have to die himself. I lean towards death. At least that way, Rowling won't have to write about him again. It's also hard to imagine him living happily ever after with Ginny in the aftermath of defeating Voldemort. Again, I'd love to be proven wrong, though. After all the kid's been through, he deserves a happily-ever-after.

Monday, July 16, 2007

The Ron Paul Economy, or: The Naiveness of the Internet Favorite

By: Unknown

7 comments

For IVIC's apparent 200th post (according to Blogger's post counter, which probably includes draft posts, making this not number 200), I shall explain why I can't vote for Ron Paul, mostly-conservative though he be.

I shall be succinct first, then expository.

Ron Paul, should he get his economic initiatives passed, would be the worst disaster for the economy since the election of FDR over Hoover.

You probably think I'm crazy in oh, so many ways for that sentence. Onward to the destruction of the inaccurate teachings of your past years!

The Fallacy of Gold

I shall strike down the cornerstone first, that the edifice might fall. Ron Paul has a stated goal, standing foremost in his economic platform and tied in with all of his other economic desires that I can find online, of dismantling the Federal Reserve.

As a conservative, this is truly mind-boggling to me. In dismantling the Federal Reserve, a semi-private entity, Paul wishes to consolidate market control back in the hands of Congress. A supposedly avowed conservative actually wishes to consolidate power in the hands of the biggest possible unit of government in our society! This, of course, is a poor argument against liberals, but should be enough to make conservatives recoil in disgust. It is a No Child Left Behind level of hubris shown by this plank.

So, I shall also attack why this is a bad idea.

The Federal Reserve (hereafter "the Fed," for simplicity), as you should know, regulates the amount of money in the market. In fairly-clear economic terms, it regulates the money supply. It does this through actions known as Open Market Operations, or OMOs. OMOs basically involve buying and selling used treasury bonds on the market. To increase the money supply, the Fed buys a used treasury bond on the market, and deposits money into the buyer's account. This payment is now money that did not exist previously in the economy. The total money supply has risen. To decrease the money supply, bonds are sold on the market. The payment is taken out back, heaped in a big pile, and set alight. Okay, that's not actually true, but the money is destroyed anyway.

But what's the point of this? What is the goal of the Fed in manipulating the money supply?

There are actually a significant number of reasons. The primary long-term reason is to keep the economy at a low, positive rate of inflation in order to allow the continued growth of the economy. In actuality, a zero inflation state would be preferable in the short term, but it is both nearly impossible to attain and undesirable in the long run because it reduces the Fed's flexibility in using the money supply to slow rampant growth or halt recession (both of which are bad things) without causing economic turmoil. That leads to the second reason: in order to use Keynesian economics to mitigate harmful occurrences in the market. The rate of decline of the GDP can be slowed by increasing the money supply. Similarly, the rate of increase in the GDP can be decreased by decreasing the money supply.

Additionally, people need money. If we had limited ourselves as a country to 5 one-dollar bills representing our economic holdings, we would all have a lot of hundredths or thousandths of a penny on us, and holding a dollar bill would be absolutely the best way of getting rich quick. Until, of course, the economy collapsed because of a lack of faith that the money will hold its present value. This would actually be an occurrence of anti-hyperinflation, with money gaining value with extraordinary rapidity. Which brings me to something I should point out.

Inflation is not based solely, or even mostly, on the amount of money in the money supply. Inflation is an effect of the aggregate demand of the economy (that is, all the wanting people do) growing faster than the aggregate supply (all the making people do). Since demand makes supply, there is always a lag in a healthy economy, and so there is a positive inflation rate. The Fed couldn't hold the economy at zero inflation even if it tried really really hard.

Now that you understand why money market control is necessary, let me explain why it's best to let the Fed, and not Congress, carry it out.

Actually, we can look at history easily enough for this. Consider all of the economies that have suffered hyperinflation in the 20th century. We'll take Germany as exemplar. Hyperinflation can only occur under a fiat currency (that is, "unbacked" currency, like the American dollar after Nixon) system, since money can be printed relatively free of charge. It is one of the dangers that come with the astounding benefits of the fiat system, which I'll get to later. Control of the money supply was left in the hands of the government itself. As the government promised more and more spending, they found themselves without the means to pay for it. The solution seemed simple, of course: "We can print our own money!" they said. "And no one will be the wiser!"

Increasing the money supply in this manner works for a very short period of time. They ended up paying off their first promises. Each time they paid people like this, though, they increased the money supply of the economy. According to Keynes (he was right, by the way), increasing the money supply increases aggregate demand. As I stated earlier, aggregate demand growing faster than aggregate supply causes inflation. So, as they keep doing this, their currency devalued. Fast. Each payment they made in this manner cost more units of currency than the last, because the money kept losing value. We know the story of Germany (and now, Zimbabwe), where bread grew to be worth millions of marks.

The Fed avoids this issue. By targeting a specific federal funds rate, they target a specific inflation rate, guarding automatically against hyperinflation. Since they do not fall under the jurisdiction of the legislative branch, but are a government-owned corporation, they do not have the temptation to print money to pay debts. Moving control to Congress under a fiat currency would be disastrous, removing the failsafes of the Fed. The only feasible control would be moving back to gold-backed currency, which would prevent Congress from crapping things up. Well, sort of.

The Fallacy of the Valueless Dollar

Incidentally, Paul also expresses a strong desire to move back to gold-backed money. Currently, he claims, our money has no backing, and so has no inherent value, and thus has no stability. At any time the dollar could go plummeting into oblivion! Doom and gloom! Falsehoods and lack of economic understanding!

Whether or not the dollar has value depends entirely on what you mean by "inherent value." It is inarguable that the dollar has a very high value of exchange (that is, you can buy stuff with it), and it is true that the paper and ink used to make a dollar are exceedingly cheap (compared to metal-backed money). So, one could say that dollars have extremely little inherent value. However, one would also have to say that dollars on the gold standard have exactly the same very low inherent value, since it is made from the same ink and paper. That makes the comparison useless.

More usefully: the gold-standard dollar is backed by a certain quantity of gold, giving it inherent value. What the Paulies don't see is that the fiat dollar is backed in precisely the same way, but by a much larger pool of resources. The American dollar is backed by the total economic output of the American economy. The Almighty Dollar is a stalwart representative of our impressive GDP. And it is backed in the same way. Under the gold standard, a dollar could be exchanged for the gold that backed it. Under the current system, the dollar can be exchanged for the economic output that backs it.

This also reveals something impressive. Fiat currency encourages economic growth. Not just a little growth. A lot of growth. This is because fiat currency is so cheap compared to gold. This is fairly obvious if you think for a moment. We cannot hope to have as much gold as we have economic activity. It's infeasible: gold is a scarce resource. So, the total dollar supply can have far more value under the fiat system for no inherent cost (other than the risk of hyperinflation, but I've covered that, and it could happen under the gold standard anyway). To use very confusing terms, a dollar now costs a couple of cents to make and represents a dollar. A dollar under the gold standard cost far more, let's say 50 cents (gold costs economic output to produce and acquire. Mining is a use of labor), and represented a dollar. That is a net loss of nearly half of the value.

Clearly, moving to the gold standard is a fantastic means of crippling our economy. So, with plenty of reasons to keep the fiat system, it's clear that the Fed only has one more thing that could be used as an argument against it.

The Fallacy of the Falling Dollar

The value of the American Dollar is falling relative to many other currencies on the international market. This is true. Why? Is it because it has no value? No, that couldn't be it: it's backed by our GDP. Could it be because we import more than we export?

Actually, that wouldn't cause it anyway, but I wanted to use the opportunity to blast apart some really poor economics that happens with trade. There is a prevailing idea that having more exports than imports is a "favorable balance of trade." This is false. Rather, it's incomplete. Trade is always favorable because it allows a nation to exploit their comparative advantage. That is, if Japan is better at making TVs, the US can get cheaper TVs by doing something that they are better at and trading. We make pharmaceuticals very well, and we end up with a net increase in economic productivity, and no loss of jobs. Jobs are made by people. You can't lose jobs overseas. Interestingly, Paul understands the first point, but fails to grasp the second, as seen here.

Consider, for a second, if we took this to the extreme. I can't take credit for this paragraph. It was Bastiat's idea first (French economist). If high exports and low imports are the best thing for the economy, it would be quite simple to make the system perfect. We put all of our goods on a boat. We send the boat to the ocean. We take the crew off, light a stick of dynamite, and blow the ship to kingdom come. If every country does this, there are no imports. The only thing is exports. What a paradise!

I can take credit for this paragraph. Why are imports good? Let us again consider the extreme. One day, off the coast of California, a giant whirlpool opens up. A booming voice echoes forth: "I shall give you any good you want, if you supply me with your American dollars!" it says. The Fed hatches a scheme. This is a simple issue! We print up money, and we throw it in the whirlpool. Out pops a TV, a car, a washing machine, a refrigerator, a house. Someone just got a fully furnished house, for the price of a few pieces of paper. And this is truly valueless paper! In a world with only imports, we never have to pay the debts inherent in the dollars we send out, because the owner of the IOU never comes calling, so the dollars sent are not backed by economic output. They're just paper! The best possible situation would be a no-export, all import economy.

Aside: this trade stuff is covered excellently in Russell Roberts' The Choice. Read it. It's the best book on politics and economics I've ever read, and it's only about 100 pages, and it's narrative. Seriously. Stop reading my trash and read that. Go. Now. It's paperback. It's cheap.

End aside.

This can't happen, of course, unbalancing imports or exports. True exports and imports always balance out. If we import more than we export, we make up for it by exporting investment overseas.

And there's the thing!

The value of the dollar is based entirely on the supply and demand for the dollar overseas! It's very simple: when international markets feel like American economic activity is a sound investment, the value of the dollar is high relative to other currencies. In this case, we import more than we export, because other countries don't want to buy our stuff (useless for us anyway. We can't pay taxes in yen), they want to invest in our economy. This increases our growth. It's a capital inflow, and causes our economy to grow stronger still!

The falling dollar is no one's fault. It is an indicator of the coming, and expected, recession. Every seven to nine years or so we have one. It is no indicator of the collapse of the American currency, nor it is a harbinger of a depression. Which brings us back to the Fed again!

The Fallacy of the Dangerous Fed

Okay, I lied. One more reason to dismantle the Fed: the Fed is dangerous, with their mindless meddling leading to the downfall of the economy in the Great Depression.

Actually, this is kind of true. The Fed did cause the Great Depression. So did FDR, which explains the line in the first section that you all thought was crazy.

The Fed's fault: fear of inflation. Remember that in the 20s, the German economy was in an awful inflationary spiral. The cause was clear: unjustified money was being printed. So, the prevailing economic reasoning was obvious: do not print money without extraordinary justification. So, in the 20s, and especially under FDR, the money supply was not expanding. As it turns out, we know today that it was contracting, but this was something of an accident (they didn't intend to shrink the money supply. Eventually, bills break down). At any rate, when the regular (every seven to nine years) recession hit, the slowing economy suffered under a reduction in the money supply, reducing the amount of trade barter in the hands of consumers and slowing aggregate demand growth. In effect, the actions (or inactions) of the Fed served as a strong braking action on the already slowing economy.

This caused the Great Depression, leading to the stock market crash. Most people think the stock market crash caused the Great Depression, but indeed it is the other way around. Hoover tried to get the Fed to help, but largely failed. They were still worried about inflation. While his balanced budget was a mistake, he also didn't add business controls to the economy. Blamed for the Depression, Hoover was ousted and FDR was beckoned in.

This, it turns out, was something of a mistake. FDR was an advocate of balanced budgets. The conventional wisdom went that you couldn't spend more than you made, and you couldn't "print your way to prosperity." The first is untrue for governments, who can spend more than they take in through taxes by borrowing on the promise of future economic performance (if the borrowed capital is invested, they can always pay back any mature debts). The second is true, but misleading. Guided by these, er, "principles," the money supply continued to contract while FDR cut spending in many areas, expanding, admittedly, social services and public works, but making up for it in increased taxes. That is, his budget was balanced, with a net income of around 0. For the expansion that FDR's spending wrought, he applied an equal or greater contractionary force by increasing taxes and reducing spending. He also added controls on business practices, blaming the corporations for ruining the country. Because, you know, they hate profit.

The public works, incidentally, were pretty much entirely worthless for economic recovery. They were no better than stealing money from one person to give to another (welfare, actually). Taking the form of the classic "move this rock here, then back" job, they followed the unqualified principle that jobs are good. In actuality, jobs must create real, valuable economic output to be beneficial.

Adolf Hitler and Hideki Tojo broke the Depression. To face WWII, government spending had to increase drastically. Wartime jobs, making real goods of value, had to be created. The accelerator was stepped on again while monetary policy shifted to an expansionary stance to pay for the war. Upward the economy surged.

That quasi-aside is to illustrate something. The mistakes and inactions of the government were not institutional! They were mistakes of economic theory. The issue that matters, the mistakes of the Fed, were caused by the classical economic theory, where inflation is the greatest evil. The savior of the economy was Keynesian economics! And that is the set of economic theory we work under today.

I bring this up because it shows that dismantling the Fed would do nothing to protect the economy from disasters like these. The alternative to having the Fed, a group of well-trained professional economists, running the money supply is having a group of Congressmen (that is, people trained in, at best, law) running the money supply. Either economic theory would be followed, or so-called common sense would be followed. We are either left in exactly the same position (assuming Congress had the economic understanding to apply economic theory), or a far worse position, stuck at the whims of some lawyers. While economic theory could be wrong, I'd rather learned men apply it than less learned men deny it.

Speaking of learned men...

The Fallacy of the Wealthy Bankers

That was a terrible segue to this. Another claim against the Fed is that it was formed by bankers so that bankers could profit. To be frank, they can't. Not from the actions of the Fed.

Remember first that money supply control is done through OMOs, secret purchasing and sales to the market as a whole. Mark one against the wealthy bankers: they cannot ensure they get the "profits" (which are no bigger than the profits from a normal sale) from this purchase-and-sale cycle. The sale goes to the highest bidder, the purchase to the lowest. This is why the bond market is so powerful at doing OMOs: it represents a democratic purchasing area of the economy (since anyone can buy bonds of many different values).

Mark two: there is no way that money supply control could make a banker usefully rich. Let us imagine that a banker gained control of the entire Fed. No whistle-blowers stood up, so they don't get in trouble. The Fed simply kowtows to their desires. They print money, and keep it for themselves. They spend it, but this causes undue inflation: money that shouldn't be in the market is flooding into it. Herein lies the rub: bankers make money from healthy, low-inflation economies. Far more money than they can make by ruining the economy, actually. People only save money when inflation is low, and bankers use saved money for investments and loans, which are the things that lead to profit. In order to gain a moderate (to them), short term financial gain, they sacrifice long term profitability and large future gains (incidentally, you don't get to be a wealthy banker by screwing up investment).

Admittedly, it's theoretically possible. It won't happen, but it could. So, what happens if we prevent it by shifting control to Congress? Wouldn't that prevent corruption? I hope some of you are laughing by now.

Who I've Decided to Vote For

I've finally decided the basic framework under which I have to view this election so far. Ron Paul is the only candidate avidly espousing economic policies that would cripple the American economy. His misguided views are something three months in a college economics class could remedy, but still he curries favor with his meaningless platitudes and false beliefs. So, rather than risk causing irreparable damage to the American standard of living, I am voting against Ron Paul. To defend the American economy from a crippling blow, I am voting against Ron Paul. Instead of hoping that Congress will have the wits to go against his terrible ideas, I am voting against Ron Paul.

To prove my emphasis on this, I'll clarify: even if the race ends up as a challenge between Ron Paul and Hillary Clinton in '08, I will vote for Hillary Clinton in the hopes that Ron Paul will be kept out of office. Foolish social policies hurt few and are easily remedied. Foolish economic policies can crush the country.

As far as references, I can't find the awesome Great Depression article that I'd like to find, and my economic understanding is from Professor McElroy's EC 302H class (yes, I have the notes. Yes, I checked the notes. No, his book is not currently online since it's the middle of summer). So, aside from the reasoning, which I hope is laid out clearly enough, I can direct you to a few Wikipedia articles if you really want. Actually, I think I have that article saved on my computer. If I find it, I'll comment about it, and I'll gladly email it to anyone who wants it.

By my hand,
~Michael Akerman

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

A Streak of Independence

By: Unknown

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As I mentioned on CoK, there is a growing trend in gaming consoles toward encouraging outside, small-time developers to make games that are then delivered digitally. Examples include the venerable XBox Live Arcade and the newly-announced initiative from Nintendo to sell indie games in the Wii Shop as Wii Ware. We witness now the birth of a new creative flowering of video games, where a zeitgeist is formed by the masses of computer programmers of moderate to high skill, their ideas revealed to the world for others to imitate.


I should note, certainly, that this is not entirely new. The PC game development scene has been riddled with independent development studios since the time of Zork. One would be hard pressed, however, to point to an efficient delivery and popularization mechanism common to most, or even a large percentage, of PC gamers.


Let us take XBox Live Arcade as an example. In that system we have an interface common to all XBox 360s that provides a platform to announce and deliver games to all XBox users with an internet connection. There is no searching through websites for an executable that will download quickly, nor are there options to fiddle with when installing. There is no need to worry about malware or viruses because all of the games are approved my Microsoft before they are sent out to the masses. Most importantly, there is only one source of digital delivery on the console: all new downloadable games are given roughly equal footing on the platform, and users can easily locate new games.


On PC, the content delivery systems are more similar to warring factions. Steam offers an extremely effective interface with a good number of games to choose from, but all games do not go through Steam. GameTap can also be an effective indie game platform, but the main service requires a monthly fee and GameTap still has fairly low market penetration. The recently-added free versions offer a very limited selection of games, though GameTap could (and should) change this to be a small number of commercial games and a laundry list of free indie games. FilePlanet is available to any PC user, since it requires only a web browser for basic access, and there is a tremendous selection of games, but the site is coated with advertisements for non-subscribers and relegates non-subscribers to long queues in order to download games. As a large-scale content delivery system, FilePlanet is only viable with a paid subscription, since that allows quick downloads and is the only current method set up to pay for games, though that could change to allow non-subscribers to pay per-game.

The console markets are different. Since they are controlled by the manufacturing company, a single delivery system can be accessed by everyone who owns the console. Small games can garner high profiles and, since the delivery systems are designed to allow the manufacturer to charge for certain applications while allowing others to be downloaded for free, indie developers can choose whether to earn profits on the game and how much to make. This encourages small-scale development, causing more creative people to get in the game.


This is all well and good, so far, but what really makes this important is that this is happening on consoles. Mechanisms of keyboard-mouse control have been largely explored, but gamepads have only really been touched by large developers. The Wii especially will benefit from seeing more ideas tested and exposed. The small-scale games provide a safe, stable proving ground for new game and control ideas: failed games are minor setbacks for investors or just a fun hobby for the programmers. The risk of losing millions on a big-name game is evaporated, allowing companies large and small to invest in what is essentially video game research and development. These delivery systems are to video gaming what the space race was to science in the 1960s: a powerful motivating and insuring force to spur the development of better games.


By my hand,

~Michael Akerman

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

How the French Duped Washington into Winning the Revolution

By: UnrepentantNewDealer

4 comments

Hey, I know it's been a long time since I posted last. I have been keeping quite busy this summer, what with a summer class, and work, and getting my wisdom teeth out on Monday and getting my three-year old Dell Inspiron 5150 notebook finally fixed (a long story for another day). Anyway, I might start up a blog of my own at some point along the lines of Akerman's new one, but in the meantime, I do have a brief post of a historical nature, in honor of Independence Day.

We Americans are loath to credit our success to others, but the standard narrative of the American Revolution has finally adapted to place the French role near the center, as it was indeed the crucial element in the 13 colonies' victory over the British Empire. However, the turning point is usually misplaced in most accounts. The battle of Saratoga in October 1777 is usually held to be the turning point of the war, because it was Saratoga that convinced the French court that the Americans could in fact win. It was after Saratoga that the French agreed to sign the Treaty of Alliance with the Continental Congress, in which each side pledged to come to the other's aid if attacked, and to not negotiate a separate peace without the other nation's consent (a mutual defense treaty of a type America did not sign again until the North Atlantic Treaty of 1949.) However, this oversimplifies the rest of the war. Victory was by no means inevitable or even probable after the entry of the French into the war.

First, the French had their own agenda: they were in it, not to help secure our freedom, but to score a victory against their hated long-time nemesis, Great Britain. To that end, they were far more focused on helping themselves to Britain's most valuable colonial possessions, from the Caribbean to Cairo to India, than on helping the insurgents in the Eastern Seaboard colonies in North America. The French attacks on far-flung British outposts around the globe forced the British to divert manpower and resources that otherwise would have gone to the American campaign, thus indirectly helping the rebellious colonists.

Second, the first several Franco-American military endeavors--from the Battle of Rhode Island in 1778 to the ill-fated attempt to reconquer Savannah, Georgia in 1779--were fiascoes. Little wonder the French chose to concentrate their efforts on harrying the British for the prize of the Caribbean sugar isles! Of course, the French were by this point already delivering crucial amounts of weapons and monetary aid, but the Patriots, most particularly Washington, were impatient for French military aid, which they believed was unduly slow in coming.

By the winter of 1780-81, the war was for all intents and purposes at a stalemate. In the north, the British under General Henry Clinton were enjoying the fruits of the occupation of New York City. In the south, Washington had finally found a general who would fight, in the person of Nathanael Greene. Greene had fought General Charles Cornwallis to a standstill in his campaign to reconquer the southern colonies, leading Cornwallis to conclude, at the end of the campaign ending with the battering his men took at Guilford Courthouse, to quit the theater altogether, and to try to split the colonies in half by conquering Virginia. Unfortunately for Cornwallis, his superior officer, General Clinton, overruled him and ordered him to occupy a position along the Virginia coast that could serve as an outpost for a future campaign (and for the overly-cautious Clinton, any campaign in which he did not outnumber his opponents by at least five-to-one, was a campaign to put off until a later date.)

Meanwhile, in New England, Washington sat brooding. His most humiliating defeat had been the loss of New York in 1776 and he was obsessed with winning it back and erasing the shame of the loss. But as he conferred with the French commanders on possibilities for joint action in the 1781 campaign, they had little enthusiasm for Washington's plans for an amphibious assault on New York City. The French General Jean-Baptiste de Rochambeau had overseen such campaigns before in the Old World, and knew that New York City was so heavily fortified, an attempt to take it would be little more than a suicide mission. In vain did he try to persuade Washington to give up on his unrealistic thoughts of retaking New York, but Washington was determined and kept pestering Rochambeau as to the whereabouts of the French fleet, which he would need to assault New York.

Fortune intervened in the form of the French fleet under Admiral Francois de Grass. De Grass planned to spend the summer pillaging British positions in the Caribbean, but could be available to head north to calmer waters by late August to avoid hurricane season in the Caribbean. Might my fleet be of service to the cause, de Grass asked Rochambeau, and if so, where? Knowing that Cornwallis was bunkered down at Yorktown where he could be forced to surrender if surrounded by land and sea, Rochambeau went behind Washington's back and told de Grass to head for the Chesapeake. He then told Washington that the French fleet would be in the Chesapeake by September and if Washington wanted a decisive victory in 1781, he should lead the Continental Army to Yorktown to cut off Cornwallis' escape.

Now came the moment of truth: Rochambeau had gone behind Washington's back to ensure the French fleet arrived in Virginia rather than New York, thus styming Washington's plans for an assault on New York. Washington could have let the personal slight and insult enrage him to the point of refusing to launch the audacious 500-mile march from Connecticut to Virginia. If he had, the war might very well have been lost right then and there. Each side had battered and bruised the other sufficently that neither had a strong upper hand in 1781, yet each side was at the breaking point, both economically in terms of being able to finance further conflict, as well as in terms of public morale and will to continue the fight. As Washington himself wrote that spring: "We are at the end of our tether.... and now or never our deliverance must come." Whichever side struck the next big blow would strike the knockout blow of the war and bring whole conflict to a swift conclusion.

Given Clinton's predilection for defense and Washington's desire to prove himself and redeem himself for the loss of New York, it seems most likely that Washington would have tried to launch the knock-out blow at New York--and failed. Of course, the French would have already left town, knowing how hopeless Washington's chances would be, even with French help. The alliance would almost certainly have fallen apart right there, and with it, any hope of winning the war. The defeat of Washington's army, coming as a body-blow to an army that had already suffered mass mutinies over pay and equipment the previous winter, would have sounded the death-knell for the Patriot cause. John Adams once estimated that only about 1/3 of the colonists supported the Patriots, and that number was probably even lower by 1781 as the Continental dollar continued its nose-dive into hyperinflation. Absent the American victory at Yorktown, 1781 would almost certainly have seen only one victory: the complete triumph of the British army over the Continental Army at New York. The rest of the war would have but a "mopping-up" action. A King's Pardon would have sufficed to win over the majority of colonists; the King's hangman would have taken care of the rest, as had been the case in earlier revolts in Ireland and India.

A lesser man would have taken such umbrage, and so doomed the cause for which he had given his life. But instead, Washington chose to put aside his displeasure at being misled by those who thought (and in this case, thought correctly) that they knew better, and take the once-in-a-lifetime chance presented by the French fleet being in the Chesapeake. The story of the long campaign that followed--of the spiriting out of Washington's men to the south, all the while leading Clinton to believe the main strike was still coming at New York until it was too late for him to send reinforcements to Cornwallis; the defeat of the British fleet off the Virginia Capes, allowing de Grasse to cut Cornwallis off from the sea; the narrowly-run battles in the redoubts of Yorktown--all of it makes for a thrilling story. However, the pieces for victory had already been set in motion when Rochambeau went behind Washington's back and Washington decided to play the hand he'd been dealt, even though he still preferred his own unworkable plan.

A man more thin-skinned or convinced of his own infallibility, would never have been able to swallow his pride and adopt the plans of others, as Washington did. We value steadfastness in time of war, as indeed we should, but we should never forget that flexibility can be an even more important battlefield virtue. Thus it is that we come to the delicious irony, not merely that we could not have the Revolutionary War without the help of the French, but that we could not have won without the duplicity of the French, or without the courage of a Commander-in-Chief who decided not to take it too personally. The echoes of that decision reverberate down the present day. As we celebrate the heroism of our forefathers, let us also celebrate the heroism (and duplicity) of our allies, without which, all of their sacrifices would have been in vain.

Viva la France!
Viva la America!
Viva la Duplicité!

Primary Source:
Davis, Burke. "The Campaign That Won America: The Story of Yorktown," Eastern Acorn Press, 1970. http://www.iobabooks.com/details.php?dcx=3755181&aid=frg

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

For Lighter Fare

By: Unknown

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Just so you, my faithful readers (reader, maybe? Anyone? Hello?) know, I've set up a new blog for myself. The Chronicles of Kashik will house far lighter posts than this illustrious sounding board. The name is subject to change, because the abbreviation is CoK.

That will also be where I do things that other blogs have done for what seems like decades now: publish my thoughts on news and my life (because you're all so interested!).

What it's also going to hopefully do is give me ideas for topics I want to write about more fully on this, my illustrious, if a little decrepit, essay blog.

Check back here and there as necessary (there more than here). I'd suggest you get an RSS reader, but to each his own.

By my hand,
~Michael Akerman

Monday, May 21, 2007

Army of Athens

By: Unknown

4 comments

This is not a historical post.

I've played WoW for something around a year now, and I've always been intrigued by the guild system in the game. Many a time have I run into situations where a group of players with some kind of interpersonal ties and expectations of certain behaviors would have been an extremely valuable asset: notably, running dungeons and elite quests would have been a lot easier. Additionally, it would give me someone to talk to while I was out grinding mobs alone (grinding mobs means, effectively, killing monsters for a long time, usually for some kind of rare reward).

For the uninitiated, I should explain the guild system, before I lay out my issues with most guilds, followed by my master plan.

A guild is effectively an organization of players. By joining a guild, you get a bit of text over your head that shows the name of your guild and you get a pane in your social window that shows the members of your guild (having never been in a guild, I don't know precisely how this works). Depending on your guild, you could end up with anything from a total lack of administration, where the guild serves mostly as a pool of like-minded, free-play (casuals, as they are generally called) individuals, to an essentially despotic administration, where the guild leader makes the decisions for the guild and expects the members to perform their assigned role as laid out in the battle plan. This makes for a very effective raiding guild (for hardcore players, the other end of the spectrum from casuals), where, much like in a military, battle roles are laid out: the healer heals, the tank absorbs damage, the DPS people do a lot of damage.

In most cases, these types of guilds are fine. They are not right for me, however. I don't want a freewheeling guild that will never get organized to do any end-game raiding, nor do I want a guild that will force members to participate in end-game raids to stay in the guild. Rather, I want a guild that will respond to the desires of the guild as a whole, that will remain flexible in the face of any events. A historical perspective makes it clear that this is exactly what one wants in the governance of a nation. So, I turned to the governing systems of the past to plan my dream guild. I need a government that will offer both administration and flexibility.

Despotism is right out. Everyone, I hope, recognizes that. There is no flexibility in despotism: the guild succumbs to the will of the leadership. Anarchy is also unwise: there is no governance. Democracy is attractive, but it is slow to react: if every voice must be heard, every voice must be given time to speak. In the large guild that I hope this guild will become, that is prohibitive. So, we turn to the experiments of Athens, and later (and more successfully), Rome. A republic.

This is why the current title of the guild is likely the one I'll keep: the Army of Athens.

To the average reader, it is likely easier to think about America than ancient history. Conveniently, this is as usefully illustrative in this case: America is not a democracy. It is a republic. Representatives are elected to work for the good of their constituents. Every voice is heard by the government through the elected representatives, though every voice need not speak. The will of the populace is carried out without the time-consuming process of town hall-style debate. So, the basic structure is clear: the guild should be a republic or, if you prefer the inaccurate, elementary-school term, a "representative democracy."

The details remain (I shall lay these out more clearly in a second post to which new members will be referred, so they won't have to read my thought process if they don't want to). In order for representatives to execute their duties faithfully, there must be a clear constituency for each representative. These constituencies should have similar challenges and abilities, so no one set of constituents outranks another in the eyes of the representative. In WoW, this delineation seems fairly simple: level-based constituencies. It is clear that certain level ranges have different priorities than others: people of very low level are focused on learning the game, gaining levels, and running the very first instances effectively. Middle levels are focused more heavily on small-group instances. Upper levels begin to focus their attention to raid instances (and the Outland, with the Burning Crusade expansion). These are apparent trends, but they are not necessarily truths for any set of people at a certain level.

This is the beauty of the republic, though. Were I to stand here and say that the low-level representative would focus on leveling, the mid-level on instances, and the upper-level on raiding, the abnormal people (I count myself among them in nearly all of the classifications) would be left out: what of the people who want to run small-group instances at a high level? What of the mid-level people who want to focus on trade skills, and need a network of resources for it?

By dividing the constituency into thirds, a small number of people can impact the politics of the guild. I envision three broad constituencies of around 20 people in each group (clearly, this means at least 63 people must be in the guild, 20 in each constituency with 3 representatives for the plan to come to real fruition, but growth takes time). Classifications would be by low-level (levels 1-23), mid level (levels 24-46) and high level (levels 47-70). As a character grew out of his current level range, he would automatically move into the next one. This creates an admittedly odd situation in that the representatives cover a level range, not a certain group of constituents. I think this is preferable in a situation like WoW, where priorities seem more dependent on level than on the specific people in a group. Of course, if the government as a whole deems this untrue, we amend this virtual constitution to some other form (flexibility, again).

When a group fills, a second grouping in the constituency will form, such that there would be a, for instance, low-level group A and a low-level group B (I think they should be allowed to choose a name for the group when this occurs). The full group will either need to be split at this point, or the new group will simply start with one constituent until more join. This will surely be based largely on the growth rate of the guild, so the decision seems best left to the government as a whole (with careful consideration given to the opinions of the constituents). The exact number to split groups at would also need to be decided by the governing body.

So, there's the nitty-gritty of the constituent groupings. But what is a representative going to be?

Here, I borrow terminology from Plato's Republic because I like the title, especially in the context of the proposal above, though the role the representatives fill isn't the same as in Plato's work. The representatives will be called Guardians, which I think aptly fits their role in their constituency. The Guardians will be nominated by either the guildmembers or themselves, and run in elections. The nominees need not fall into the level category of the constituency, so if the voters so chose, a level 5 character could be the Guardian of the high-level group. A preliminary election will be held within a week of the announcement of candidates in order to narrow the field (think of it like a primary election). The constituents in the group will send their votes to the guild leader (that would be me) via email (I hope to have a website eventually, but I've never set up anonymous voting via a website, so bear with me). The top two candidates will remain in the running. After three weeks (presumably of frantic campaigning), the final vote will be taken. The emails will be tallied, and the winner deemed the Guardian of the group.

The Guardians will act as both the legislative and judicial branch, at least in the early stages of the guild (if everyone is a member of the government, who does the government represent?). Punitive decisions will be based on the rules of the guild, as outlined below and added to by the government as is seen fit. An appeal system will be in place, in which disputed decisions will be allowed to go to the greater governing body before action is taken.

Elections, I think, should be held every three months. There will initially be no term limits, unless the government chooses to amend them to the guild constitution (which doesn't exist yet). Defeated Guardians, or those who choose not to run again, will retire to the Council of Elders, a sort of Senate for the guild. The Council of Elders will consist of all current Guardians (I need to discuss this with the guild members early. Having a double vote throws up warning flags to me), as well as all the retired Guardians still active in the guild. The Guardians will also form a sort of House of Representatives, the Council of Guardians. Clearly, the Council of Guardians will always be smaller than the Council of Elders. Major decisions (raid schedule, rule changes, etc.) will be based on a simple majority in each house. If there is a difference in ruling in each house (that is, the CoG approves a measure while the CoE denies it), the houses will attempt to resolve the disputes in compromise. If this fails, the measure will fail.

Allow me to lay out some facts this implies about Guardians and Elders. Guardians carry judicial power, while Elders do not. This can be seen as a burden or as a boon, depending on the specific person filling the role. The House of Guardians is smaller than the House of Elders, so each Guardian wields more power than each Elder. Therefore, Elders have fewer responsibilities but less of a voice. An Elder can run for a second Guardianship during any election, which would restore both Guardian power and Guardian duties to the Elder.

The final thing I must discuss are the preliminary rules of the guild. These are tenets that I shan't bend on: they must hold for the life of the guild, or there is no guild to me. They are as follows:

1.) Don't be a dick.

This admittedly complex rule set must be the basic foundation of the guild. It implies that the members of the guild will endeavor to be kind to one another in any situation, and to give each other the benefit of the doubt in cases of apparent inability. Remember: one shouldn't blame malice when stupidity will explain the action. Therefore, rather than getting angry at one's guildmate for a perceived injustice or failure to perform adequately, aid him. If you expect him to heal because he's a Priest, discuss this with him. In most cases, you'll find that there are good reasons that he did not do what you wanted (generally, either because he didn't think about it or because he has specifically developed his character contrary to the cause). Resolve disputes in a civilized manner. The punishment for repeated offenses against this rule is banishment from the guild. Since such a drastic measure is to be taken, failure to adhere to this rule will be taken to the Guardian. If found guilty, the case will always go to the Council of Elders (that is, these cases have a forced appeal process). Banishment will only be used on repeat offenders, and will be based on the decision of the council: if you have been clearly malicious in your intent and had reason to understand that your actions would lead to this punishment, you will be removed from the guild. That said, no one will be banished for a first offense against this rule. A warning will be issued, putting the offender in extreme jeopardy should the rule be again unheeded.

This rule is to be the very foundation of the guild: the basis for the existence and governance of the guild. And, if every member follows this rule, and the Guardians and Elders serve in good faith, the Army of Athens can grow to be great: a powerhouse of a guild that maintains the compassion and friendliness it was conceived in, that is fully equipped to help low-level characters while still being flexible enough to execute raids. The guild can grow only as the members see fit. The decisions of the members of the Army of Athens will make or break the guild. I hope the choices are wise.

This post will be summarized later, as I'm aware that it is currently some pretty heavy reading. Besides, most of the procedures need not be known by most guild members, as they can be informed of them when the time comes (elections, for instance).