Showing posts with label T. S. Eliot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label T. S. Eliot. Show all posts

Thursday, 21 April 2011

Next year's words


     For last year's words belong to last year's language
     And next year's words await another voice. 



Thanks to Cygnus at Servitor Ludi I spent a bit of time today reading one very engaging blog in particular.

The blog is Secret Sun and the first of its many gems I'd like to commend to the readers of the Expanse is the series of posts in The Star Wars Symbol Cycle.

Most reading this will know - or see - George Lucas borrowed or absorbed a few ideas, but not everyone will know all of the speculated sources. I didn't, and probably still don't. But the sources named open up gateways to whole other worlds of speculation. Click around the blog and check some out. How inspiring, and limiting, is that?

My question to all you bright people is this. Can one of us wake up tomorrow and create a truly new work - whether game, story or image - one which draws on no existing works, and is based on, say, first principles?

Saturday, 18 December 2010

Mapmaking merry (4)

We can all name worlds, real or imagined, and as gamers, writers and readers we've probably visited many in some way or other. I set a short snippet of fiction at Neptune a few posts back and suggested a 'retropia' on Triton. That's two, and still real ones.

Worldbuilding can be a big part of writing, roleplaying and wargaming - even if only for a campaign - and in sci-fi really does become about whole worlds. If anyone is building a world from scratch - in however much detail - they could well need a little help. If you're going big, plenty can be found at This Orb, a bold attempt I linked to at the snippet.

Our solar system is of course still the source of almost all the solid knowledge we have. To fill in the gaps that have appeared over the years or get up to date with recent developments, you could do worse than this amateur but highly ambitious animation.


Mercury inspires Mordian, and so gives us the Iron Guard? Well, maybe - and more.
It's strange in our backyards, but so much like home. It's "Little Gidding" by T. S. Eliot.

And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
.