18 December, 2009

relative sizes

When designing a spacecraft or a spaceship, you want to make sure (if you care about the technical side of things and prefer to avoid later complications in a story, that is) that the sizes of your space going vessels is feasable. Unfortunately, there is much and yet little research on the area, so it's not easy to work out the tech-y side of things. Especially when you're not good at maths. Then there's the logistical side of things and the manning power, tonnage...

I don't like stories that contradict, but it's so easy to do. Then after working out what sizes of ships you may want, you want to work out what sort of FTL drive you want to give your ships so that the story doesn't end up spanning thousands of years. Faster than light travel is confusing and choosing a method of travel measurement isn't any easier.

When going with the jump drives, you need to look up folding space and instant teleportation, with something to do with warping the space-time continuum.

Warp drives and slip-stream drives are similar to jump drives as they bend the space-time dimensions around themselves.

Then you've got the hyperspace drives, where normal space is n-space, hyperspace is either h-space or z-space. It's confusing. Like wormholes, space-time is warped.

Whichever drive you choose to go with, you'll end up with massive problems such as where is all the energy requirements going to come from? How big a battery, reactor, engine, etc? Fusion or fission? Efficient solar cells? Dark energy or dark matter energy collectors? Fuel cells? Most likely, you end up having to create your own energy source, large enough to power the spaceship... but then how something small enough can produce such large amounts of energy? Well...

Doing stuff like this is a little hobby of mine. It's not important, but it's fun to do in spare time. Especially cos I'm no good at maths and don't understand a bit of spherical trigonometry, not to mention high school circular trigonometry. Extrapolating all my limited knowledge beyond the stars just skews everything. It's a nice challenge to try and make myself learn more maths.

I like to think. Our solar system is such a size and it took some of our satellites years just to reach its outskirts. If you are talking of travel between systems... How many hundreds of thousands of years you could be talking if you are travelling at light speed? Then if you want faster than light communication, is gravity a possibility? Anti gravity a possibility? Most electromagnetic waves would still move at approximately light speed.

The easiest thing to do is... well, not mention all these things in a story. BUT then the story would be all the poorer for it or so I believe.

There's still the matter of what shape a space ship should take. Should it be sleek, triangular and reduce drag? Comet shaped? UFO shaped? Amoeba shaped? Some of the coolest spaceships would probably be those based on sea creatures or micro-organisms. They just look cool. Circles and flagella and cilia.

Should a space force be based on the navy or air force or a mixture of both? Should they include marines? How many people are required to man a certain sized ship? How big is the payload?

I haven't read that much space opera or science fiction. I've only roughly followed Farscape and Firefly and Doctor Who and Stargate and the Honor Harrington series. That's plenty enough for food for thought right? Anyway, I will work away at these little questions and maybe have myself and self-made answer in two decade's time.

Here is a site I found on relative fictional space craft sizes:

14 December, 2009


Once in the space
The visitor found porridge
But the porridge was sour
Like the yellow tamarind

Just so you know
This isn't a real poem
I'm just writing like this
For the fun of being low.

The yellow tamarind
Ate a orange cluster of dry figs
That had mashed a cake of dates
To a sweet pizza smithereen.

But this is going no where,
so just for you information
The pizza got eaten by a dog
or was it a hog?
I'm not sure.
It could have been either.

10 December, 2009


'Midst the falling, falling rain
A twinkle drop
Splashed on my knee.
On looking up
What did I see?
Dancing globlets
laughing at me.

In my eyes and up my nose
Those water particles
Went where they chose.

'Midst the curtain
Running, running
Blindly through cascade.
Sheeting wind
And driving showers
Drenched me as sky bade.

Clinging clothes
Scratched damply
Heavy those
Chilled amply.

'Neath tree's bough
I rested puffing, puffing
Trying to catch my breath.
"You'll never make it!"
Hooted the clouds,
"Not when this is my weth!"

Shaking fists up at the sky
Hearing it still laughing
When it thought I could do nought
At impromptu bathing.

Squaring my shoulders
In puddles stepping, stepping
Not minding now the wet.
Now that I'm soaked
I'll show the rain
I care not its let.

If weather to me contrary be
I'll oppose it
Wait and see.

'Midst the falling, falling rain
I smiled at the chance
To dance and sing.
Along deserted streets
Walking, walking
Let the cloud-fall ring.

09 December, 2009

and then

So you get nominated for a highly prestigious scholarship program, but can't go because it has little to do with what your area of study is. What should be done?

There are times when I can't get to a computer, so I'm sorry there is no daily post. Still, at least there are new ones... unlike the other blog I maintain. Posts for that one require research and more time than I have, so they will have to wait a little longer.

Emails grab attention flow
They scurry 'round and
Don't let go.
Though you may
reply them all,
Within a day,
You've gained new haul.
Back and forth,
The answers blow,
some not worth
the petty show.
Snatch at time,
Take a breath,
Before the next wave
Dashes you to death.

27 November, 2009


The other day when I wrote the previous post, I thought it had to be one of the most pointless things I've ever written. On re-reading it and fixing what mistakes jumped out at me, I discovered it was reasonably randomly silly. So I was satisfied... but that brings me to today. What shall I do today when today is already over?

It's hard to think of things to write when here I sit before a keyboard and screen ready to type something nicely profound. Something interesting enough to capture no audience's attention... which is what I'm already doing, but I'm being sarcastic. I'm sure you could tell. When I turn off the computer, lie down in bed, that's when the words flow and imagination runs with motor cars of the air. I could scribble them down and scribble them down, but the effort of getting out of bed and walking all the way over to the light switch is not worth it.

What people want when they read a blog is something different, something unique... something that captures their attention and imagination. Distracts them. Now, my other blog, it kinda did that, but I've temporarily run out of ideas and haven't been bothered (although my official excuse is [of course] that I haven't had the time) to pull out all the stories' bits and pieces and start re-fitting my jigsaw pieces together on a legible board of text.

Now, people will one day say that I have misused my words and that is not how you use a word that means something else... or ... there's no such word in the English dictionary. I'm not sticking with rules. These are thoughts that have thrown themselves out of my head and onto the screen. Some are there just for the sound they make or the colour I associate the word with - because there aren't always the right words I want for expression. Patterns, colours and rhythm. Puzzles that seem and yet don't seem to fit together.

Badabing, badaboom. Figure it out thyselfsom.

Musky though the raskers ride
Fudgy though the felpots slide
On the surfboards of the dry
Ballooning through the air.

Misty on the cyrus tail
Cushy on the fluffy rail
There the butterfly soars on streams
of lifting-falling pare.

Roar of wind
Whistle of hair
Shy of wobble
Why of care.
Here fly freebies of the blue
In the mood.

25 November, 2009


Trudging mud will not make a spacious place cleaner. I'm hungry, but the hens are pecking at the keyboard and asking for nuts. Nuts? Hens don't eat nuts. They don't even like dried corn unless it's been hammered into sizeable pieces. My purse is empty, yet full of receipts. How that happened? Ask the night owl who took it on a shopping spree. I don't like the idea of going to Japan, that's why I'm not going. Too noisy, too crowded, too many people... and I can't speak Nihongo. Still, the orange sandwich hasn't been finished - wait! I haven't finished my lunch! Have to do that before I eat dinner in 5 minutes time. Still gotta pick up the eggs before dark, but I don't like going into the chookhouse. Dusty. Lots of poop. smelly and my clothes will get dragged, inadvertently of course, upon the yuck. Yuck. I'm hungry. Going to eat dinner. Hope the cat and flies haven't got it yet.

Trudge and plod
There the motorcycle screeches
Drift around the corner car
Grin at scudded tyre
Clouds are high
Fog is by
Walking, walking
on a tram
surf the rattle-shake
Trudge and plod
I don't like ponds
Mosquitoes whine in the air.

21 November, 2009


Today the sky is grey, where the brilliant blue that glared until your eyes were sore has dissipated after a big dust storm. Any cars caught out in the subsequent rain have now been painted with the dust the clouds caught and threw back towards the earth through their egestion. As such the cars are well mottled, as if they're about to go bush and camouflage themselves. I pity those who washed their cars yestermorn.

Today is interesting. Mostly because it's no longer yesterday neither is it tomorrow yet. It's today. Present. A present. Not always a welcome present, but still today's present.

So... the earth has turned another round and measured up no single sound. Why I have to rhyme so much in my poems is beyond me. I used to be able to make them work via rhythm alone, but they disagree with me now. Only the remnants remain.

Raining! Raining! Quick take down the clothes, before the spit of the sky makes the drying garments dusty. Again.

Wither will the rains yet come,
wither will they go again,
When summer rages
and fires pages
Taking away many wages.
In the lightning of the storm
In the gale of the lorm,
Now the houses must well be kept
and all the yards well swept
Let not the hunger satiate
In radiating, whirling heat.

20 November, 2009


Round and round
The whirlygig blows
To the sound of
The lollypop shows
Where a traveller
Dressed so bright
In chequered greens
And orange seams,
Plays a tune with might.

Angry though a bear may stomp
Frightened though a mouse may skitter
Frustrated though a cat may pomp
At the screeching titter.
All through day he prances there
All through night he plays the lair.
Trickle down
The leafy boughs
Rain drops gown
Bare toes.

Whistle kite
No thistle straw
Trancing fingers
On shining draw.
Mingle tinkle
On the dringle
Where will the garden grow?
He cares not for
places small
Nor for mis-matched

Here a skip
There a stop
Stip a coin
Upon the knop
Tonight we'll dine in.
Lay upon the moonshine's pillow
Tomorrow the sun's warm billow.

19 November, 2009


To blurg ,
to blog ,
it will not merg,
when apples cease
and trotters surg.

There is no point
but to elaborate,
To huddle,
To expel,
To extrapolate.

'Mercy!' cry the heels of toe,
When sense is none
and sharks think woe.

Again no point
shall these words here make.
Just to annoy,
To trickle,
To apple pie bake.

Bit by bit the sand do fly,
Attrition is the best man's sigh.
Little by little cats will tie
Their tails in knots of mice so shy.

Fiddle and faddle,
Grabble the rabble,
Tiller the tattle,
When time to babble.