• … according to the Daily Mash.

  • While I’m trying to find the time this week to write a game report… a brief comparison of London and Tokyo subways, that I thought of while I was riding on the Marunouchi Line (Tokyo) this morning, reading a sign that said the train had air-conditioning and an air-cleaning system installed. Reading it reminded me of being crammed into the London subway (“the Tube”) and the inevitable comparisons.

    The London tube is a filthy, grim affair, with narrow, claustrophobic trains travelling through tunnels barely wider than the carriages themselves, like bullets in a chamber. The interior of the tube is so low that tall men have to bow their heads unless they can push to the middle; the seats are so filthy that they are literally ringed with grime at their edges – the centre of the seat is blue cloth but the edge is brown or black with grime. The trains have no airconditioning, and the city famously refuses to find a solution to the problem of the intense heat in the carriages and passageways – in summer in the UK the outside temperature may not go above 23, but down below in the multiple tubular layers of hell, it is well above 35. And of course, in that special London way, there is the constant stink of unwashed bodies packed together. The stations themselves are tiny, cramped affairs with dark, often unfinished tunnels that are already fraying at the edges. Everyone is in the same 3 brands (Zara, TopShop, H&M) and stands sluggishly on the long escalators, staring at the sluggish people passing the other way. Like British houses, the Tube is dark and grey and stuffy.

    All this is in contrast to Tokyo, whose metro stations are wide, large and brightly lit with many exits, shopping centres connected to them, and throngs of bustling, active people who walk briskly up the escalators, and are dressed in the myriad contrasting fashions that only Tokyo can support. The trains are bright and clean, wider and taller than the Tube, even though the people here are smaller and shorter. The trains are air-conditioned and they travel through wider tunnels. In contrast to the intense noise of the Tube as the carriages rattle through the claustrophobic tunnels, passengers and announcers yelling over the din, all is quiet and ordered. Screens over every door broadcast the day’s Korean lesson, or some notes on successful communication. People are packed together, but the train is not stuffy or filled with the reek of unwashed bodies.

    And so this contrast struck me. In London, the workers are hurled to their destination like so much unwanted snot. In Tokyo they are swished to their place of work as treasures, like the money through the automated tube systems of a Love Hotel.

    Of course there’s no point in comparing to Sydney trains… in that “international city” you’re lucky if they turn up at all!

  • Could you lie to this little guy?

    On Thursday night I had my farewell party, primarily filled with my partner’s co-workers, who have been good companions for the past year. Most of them know that I’m an inveterate liar, so I nevertheless considered announcing to them at the party that actually “the job in Tokyo was a lie and I’m not going, and this dinner party was held to reveal the secret to you.” This would have been doubly brilliant, since I would have used my reputation for deception-jokes to pull the mother of all deception jokes. Unfortunately I didn’t think my skills were up to it and anyway, if I succeeded they probably would have lynched me.

    However, during dinner one of my partner’s colleagues, a Japanese-American “half” who speaks perfect English and Japanese – let’s call her Miss Accomplished for the purposes of this story – told me I look like a horse. Unable to let this pass, I responded by pointing out her resemblance to a puffer fish (in Japanese, fugu). This led, naturally, to a discussion of how I quite like puffer fish because I used to keep them. Miss Accomplished asked me where I kept them, and I told her that I kept them when I lived in Shimane Prefecture, three years ago. This is true – I had two very cute little freshwater puffer fish when I lived in Shimane prefecture, and they were cute.

    So, then Miss Accomplished made the mistake of indicating surprise at this – presumably because I was in Shimane for only a year and a half, though I don’t know for sure – and asking me why?

    To which I responded that Shimane Prefecture has a rule that all male residents under a certain age are required to keep puffer fish, in order to preserve a rare species of local puffer fish that is endangered. Miss Accomplished was stunned at this revelation, and asked me for more details about the law, whether all men have to keep them, etc. My partner watched all of this with mild amusement, since it was patently obvious what I was doing. Eventually, once I’d led Miss Accomplished far enough up the garden path to have her up to her neck in fertilizer, I revealed that the whole thing was a lie and Miss Accomplished, up until then thoroughly and completely taken in, slapped me.

    It was worth it. So how do I rate this lie?

    Degree of Difficulty: Given we had just been talking about how I’m a liar, and were surrounded by people who should know better, Miss Accomplishment herself knows I’m a liar, and was sober, and I was doing this in Japanese, I would give this a degree of difficulty of 4.5. However, I think Miss Accomplished might be religious, which indicates a natural susceptibility to bullshit, so I’m downgrading it to a 4.

    Degree of Preposterousness: I think this is actually a pretty preposterous lie. It’s inconceivable that a government would try and pass such a law, could if they did, or would get anyone to follow it. But it’s particularly preposterous that it would only apply to men. So I rate this a 4.5.

    Degree of Success: Completely believed, but she didn’t leave the scene unaware of the lie, so 4 out of 5.

    Overall Rating: 17 out of 25. A good effort.

  • Would you risk your fate with this man?

    On Tuesday I start working at the Tokyo University Department of Global Health Policy as an Assistant Professor, which means that on Sunday I am moving from Steamy Beppu to the City of Light. I will also be returning to full time work after a year working part time and being a househusband.

    This means that my Japanese Warhammer 3rd Edition group has broken up, and my Japanese role-playing plans in general have to go on hold until I can find a suitable group in Tokyo. I don’t know how easy that will be. It also means that I’ll have a lot less time for, and material to put into, long posts, so my posting frequency will go down, which is a shame because I’ve been on a bit of a roll recently.

    To keep my posting frequency up I may add a new posting series, about bars and restaurants in Tokyo, because I will be exploring them. I may also put in some taste-testing of various Japanese sake, which I’m becoming interested in… we’ll see. It’s a bit off topic but when I go searching for information about Tokyo night life I appreciate other peoples’ views, so maybe someone will appreciate it being here… also there may be some general aspects of Tokyo life to comment on, so the blog may open a little beyond nerd culture to include general big city culture.

    I will of course be trying to expand my role-playing horizons in Tokyo – who knows, I may even play in English! – and exploring nerd life a little. There may also be some Harajuku-related material on here too… we’ll see how busy I am. But the move to Tokyo may well indicate a move to a broader focus on Japanese otaku life, hopefully from the perspective of someone at least slightly involved in it. We’ll see. But for the meantime, expect me to post slightly less frequently, and don’t be disheartened.

    The miniature at the top of this post was painted by one of my players, Tencho-san. It’s a likeness of me. You can’t see it in the photo but the book has “Master” written on it’s cover, and on the back of the wizard’s jacket is written (混沌東大), which is Japanese shorthand for “Tokyo University Chaos!” This was part of my going-away present, along with the game Make You Fortress and a collection of cards for the game Make You Kingdom, which contain colour cardboard cutouts of all the cute monsters from the game. I really need to play this game at some point…

    A report of the last session of the Rats in the Ranks campaign will be going up soon. In the meantime, any particular requests for investigation you would like to see conducted in Tokyo, please let me know in comments (and yes, if I find a used underwear vending machine I will post a photo!)

  • Well, not quite, but in Sunday’s Daily Telegraph the UK Prime Minister, David Cameron, outlined his vision for the NHS (and all other public services) and it looks like a strong departure from the existing system, and a significant move toward the kind of system I’ve been suggesting would work well in the UK as it does elsewhere. Of course, we can’t judge a government policy on a newspaper editorial, and the White Paper hasn’t been released yet so we don’t know the details, but it appears that the plan is to open up health services for competition between private and public providers. I haven’t found much analysis of this yet (presumably because the details haven’t been published) but Polly Toynbee gives her typically strident take in the Guardian. Under her version of the policy, we read that companies will be able to force the NHS to open any service to tender competition, and if they can prove that they will provide the service at a lower cost than the government, and that quality won’t be reduced, then the NHS will be obliged to fund them to provide that service. This seems (ideological rants aside) broadly consistent with the implication of the Cameron article, where he says

    We will create a new presumption – backed up by new rights for public service users and a new system of independent adjudication – that public services should be open to a range of providers competing to offer a better service

    This will mean that significant services within the NHS that can be separated out from general services could be forcibly privatized, for example the provision of radiology services could be targeted by a major healthcare provider, and then prized loose from existing hospital services and tendered out. It also opens the field for (largely American, but also some European) private healthcare companies to conduct hostile takeovers of British hospitals, provided they can prove that they can offer the same services. It’s kind of the opposite of nationalization, being promulgated by a government.

    Cameron then goes further, to argue that services should be localized as well as privatized, with communities being able to argue that a service should not be managed centrally:

    For example, we will give more people the right to take control of the budget for the service they receive. In this new world of decentralised, open public services it will be up to government to show why a public service cannot be delivered at a lower level than it is currently; to show why things should be centralised, not the other way round.

    I think this part will be a flop, and I have some concerns about its effects on inequality if it were successful, but regardless of its degree of success, I think we’re actually seeing something genuinely, amazing and new here: somewhere in the Western world, a Conservative party has come up with a new idea that works within the Social Democratic framework. We’re not just seeing a repeat of the tired mantra of “cut taxes! me!” And it isn’t a piece of naked self-interest either – as in all of his work to date on the NHS, Cameron retains an awareness of the issue of inequality:

    Of course, the state will still have a crucial role to play: ensuring fair funding, ensuring fair competition, and ensuring that everyone – regardless of wealth – gets fair access.

    So, how will this new service model resemble an Australian-style system, how could it be better than the current NHS, in what possible ways can it fail, and what will its effects on inequality be?

    Resemblance to the Australian system

    Australia of course has no model of enforced privatization or anything resembling it, but we do have a system in which a universal health insurer – the Federal Government – pays for medical services from a health care sector that is primarily composed of private providers. This is the primary care system in Australia, but what happens in practice is that primary care doctors (General Practitioners; GPs) provide a significant range of quite advanced medical services, including radiology and minor surgery. They then refer more complex patients to private specialists, or to publicly-funded hospitals that provide specialist services. These publicly-funded hospitals are funded by the State government, and serve to prevent market failure in the provision of healthcare, to prevent costs spiralling out of control, and to maintain a strong medical infrastructure. The single universal government run insurer helps to hold down the cost of health care, and the State-run health systems also fund some community health services that provide GP services to those who might not fit into the general health system (e.g. injecting drug users, transgender people, Aborigines, etc.) Australia also runs a fairly large private health sector, in which privately-run hospitals cherry pick the easy, high-profit cases from public hospitals and are paid from private health insurance funds that are affordable and accessible, and partially publicly subsidized. The reason these funds are affordable and accessible is that the government runs all emergency services and provides baseload public medical care, so that the private services don’t have to get into the business of providing extremely high-cost, high-risk services. Also, as far as I know there is no obligation for a publicly-funded hospital to provide all the services using public employees. I think they can contract out, e.g. cleaners, or form contracts with private specialists if they think it will benefit them (though of this I’m not 100% sure).

    It’s a kind of mixed economy where public and private services cooperate to keep people healthy, and Australians are very healthy by world standards. We also don’t pay that much for our healthcare by international standards, because of the extensive cost containment built into the system. No one can say that the system is perfect but it works very well, it’s responsive to new threats (e.g. HIV/AIDS), it’s fairly equitable (except for the shameful issue of Aboriginal health) and it’s cheap.

    David Cameron’s plans could well move Britain organically towards this same system. If the privatization process works effectively, we will see private providers cherry-picking the easy services and the best hospitals in the healthiest areas, providing services from these hospitals at less than it costs the government, and freeing up the government to focus resources in unattractive or challenging areas[1]. We will also see some services within hospitals being privatized at reduced cost, so that the hospitals have more resources to spend on other things. But at the same time the government will still be free to establish new hospitals in underserved areas, to invest in existing hospitals to upgrade or expand them, and to invest in programs to reduce health inequality.

    How it Could Improve the Current System

    The influx of service providers and private investment, the opening of the market to private providers, and the increased efficiency of small private providers competing against monolithic NHS systems will undoubtedly lead to increased capacity and lowered costs. It might also improve workforce size and skill, as these providers in setting up quickly would (hopefully) employ more people. There are a lot of caveats on this, though. If private providers aren’t able to compete in the GP marketplace they will be barred access to the most lucrative part of the market; many of the bigger hospitals and/or the services that they could provide are probably already being run at low cost and high efficiency, and private providers may find it unattractive to take them on after they do the maths.

    With private providers given a foothold in public services, they will then have a presence in the British market that they can leverage to expand the private health industry, which may take pressure off public services[2] and enable private providers to achieve efficiency gains. In the long-term this system will potentially bring private investment in publicly-funded facilities.

    If this model extends to primary care, we will also see large international companies (including, probably, some Australian ones) establishing new, vastly superior models of primary care service provision and competing with existing GPs to provide lower cost, higher quality primary care. And I bet some of those companies will set up in poor areas, where existing provision of GP services is poor. But I am also willing to bet (see below) that GPs will be explicitly excluded from the privatization model, because they have too much power and for GPs this model if implemented would mean a price war, that would drive their wages down rapidly[3].

    I don’t subscribe to the view that all public services must be performing worse or less efficiently than private services, but it is undoubtedly the case that an organization as large and unruly as the NHS will have significant efficiency gains built into it, and it may well take an external provider to realize these. Also, the NHS is capacity-constrained by government funding limits, but private providers may see some benefit in initial infrastructure investment in order to compete for NHS services. The NHS needs investment, and there are some areas – especially elective surgery – where there is no reason to think that the private sector cannot provide a service that is at least as good as the NHS at at least the same cost. If in setting up these services the private sector need to invest, then this is a good thing for the British health system – especially if some companies invest with the long term intention of expanding the scope of services they provide into a growing private health care market. It’s also possible that private providers might combine plans for health tourism with plans for competition in the domestic publicly-funded market, which could make the Tory’s plans for health care tourism of greater benefit to the domestic population.

    How Could it Fail?

    There are a few ways in which this system could be a complete disaster, or at least fail to achieve any of the stated aims.

    Failure to Include GPs: GPs in Britain provide a woefully inadequate, hideously overpriced service that is massively capacity constrained. The GP system costs a lot of money and compared to other primary healthcare systems it doesn’t do a very good job. Because the UK NHS operates a gatekeeper system, but has long waiting times. poor GP referral practices can lead to significant delays in access; there is some evidence that there is inequality in referral practices and access. If the GP system is not shaken up under this privatization process, one of the major barriers to better quality care will continue to function at a very poor level. Currently there is little to no incentive for GPs to improve their service in the UK, because there is no private competition and a demand management system that encourages them to work limited hours in small practices, providing little in the way of significant medical care. Introducing competition to GP services would be an excellent way to improve healthcare, but if this is not done the system will continue to be inefficient at the commonest first port of entry.

    Failure to properly integrate private providers in planning: future growth in the British health system depends on expansion of the workforce, a slow process that depends on negotiation with universities (who train new staff) and representative organizations (who set and maintain healthcare training standards). If private providers are excluded from proper involvement in this planning process, then they will end up competing with public providers for limited workforce resources, rather than adding to them. This has been a perennial problem in the British system, which doesn’t have enough GPs or nurses. Proper workforce planning requires central involvement at least at a regulatory level (to prevent, for example, doctors choosing to restrict numbers of trained GPs in order to increase their wages) and it also requires government or private investment in universities. This needs to be coordinated in some way, and it’s not clear that this is easily done.

    Paper Tiger Regulation: The British privatization environment seems to involve this model of private providers being regulated by public agencies, but these public agencies can often be toothless, weak agents. In order to ensure Cameron’s central goal of proving that the private sector will provide a service of the same quality at lower price, the agencies that assess quality need to be tough as nails. If they’re not, the British will get lower quality services. I suspect that the Tories are not the best party to oversee strong regulation of the private sector, but then Labour were terrible at this (there was a small financial problem in the UK partly related to their unwillingness to regulate their mates, after all). If regulation is not strong and well funded, there will be little oversight of the privatization process and quality will decline. On the flipside, the NHS is no doubt not great at managing itself (in fact Labour had to set up various arms-length industry bodies to do this) so maybe offloading some functions to private sector agencies will improve the ability of the NHS to monitor quality. Certainly, a wholesale recasting of the NHS as primarily a purchaser and regulator of healthcare services has the potential to vastly improve the quality of the services. But we’ve heard this before amongst the arguments for privatization in the UK, and the UK still has crap power systems, crap water systems, crap railways and crap phone providers…

    Inequality: privatization has the potential to increase inequality, because private providers tend to find that providing services to the wealthy is more profitable than providing them to the poor; and private providers themselves have no particular obligation to look out for the poor or disadvantaged. We’ll look at this separately …

    Contract Failure: Based on what little is available about the new plan, it doesn’t appear that the NHS will be moving towards a limited role as healthcare purchaser and regulator; it will be involved in service provision as well. Also, it doesn’t appear that a fee-for-service model or a straight out insurance model will be adopted. Rather, it appears that the government will put out bids for contracts to provide services. This is kind of similar to how it manages GPs (through contracts) and hospitals (through block grants, I think) now. But while such service agreements may work for publicy-owned and run services they may not be the best model for privately run services. If the funding model doesn’t suit the system, it may lead to under-funding, or to excessive funding of some private bodies. Also, I don’t think I’d be too confident with the ability of the NHS to assess tenders and make good contracts. My own experience of the NHS is that you can drive a truck through their contracts, and come out the other side loaded with booty; there is some recent evidence of huge variations in payment levels by area in the NHS that aren’t related to area-specific needs (i.e. some NHS areas are being fleeced). Contract failure runs the risk of turning the whole thing into a big rort for smart private organizations.

    Effects on Inequality

    Privatization and competition have the risk of increasing inequality, by concentrating private investment and better quality services in areas that have more money, and depriving poor areas of some services or forcing them to rely on second-rate under-funded government services. The government says it’s going to address this specifically, and for two or three years now the Tories have talked a lot about inequality, so I don’t doubt that at least some of them (Cameron and Lansley included) are serious. But how they aim to go about ensuring inequality doesn’t increase is not yet clear. There’s no fundamental reason it should, since the government will remain involved in providing care and so can address market failure in poor areas directly; and I presume that the increased privatization will come along with continual improvements in patient choice that free poor people up to go to wealthy areas for their care.

    Another, in my opinion potentially more serious, cause of inequality is the Tory focus on localism. To my mind “localism” and “inequality” go hand in hand, and while it’s good to have local flexibility in the provision of services it’s also important to keep central control over just how much inequality in distribution of and access to services this causes. If “localism” means that local councils or community groups get to choose to defund GPs in one area so they can fund fancy services in a wealthier area, then someone at some point is going to have to step in and stop them. It’s not clear that the new Tory system has a way of doing this; but then, it’s not clear that this has ever been done effectively in the NHS. Plus, of course, much of health inequality in the UK is an upstream issue, caused by social inequality that is reflected in health, and better addressed through welfare and employment policy, urban planning, educational improvements, etc. than patched up by the NHS.

    Nonetheless, when you overhaul a system to give it a greater dependency on service providers who are going to follow money rather than central diktats, you open the risk that they’ll provide less or lower quality services to poor people. This needs to be avoided. And when you introduce increased localism you also need to account for the increased risk of inequality (or, for that matter, just plain bad decisions) that comes with it. How the new plan will do that is not yet clear.

    Conclusion

    Though I still don’t think the proposed plans offer the flexibility the NHS needs, and while I still think injecting funds is more important at the moment than reform, these plans do suggest some cause for optimism, and may lead to a more efficient, more flexible system that is a little closer to the kind of systems that the rest of the developed world has found seem to work best. The changes carry the risk of failure, of some private providers being able to loot the system, and of an increase in inequality or loss of quality – particularly seeing as they’re being introduced at a time of cost cutting and funding cuts. But if they’re managed well, and properly regulated, they will at least open the NHS up to future improvements. I’m tentatively in favour of them, at least until I see the details in the White Paper.

    fn1: In theory. The UK government will probably choose to spend this money on something worthless, because this is Britain we’re talking about here, but let’s try and be optimistic

    fn2: I’m really dubious that this is a big effect of private insurance in mixed systems, but with the private system in the UK quite small I can see how it would make a large difference in the short term

    fn3: One of my visions for the UK system is an Aussie or South African private provider setting up a 24 hour GP clinic in a poor, inner city area in the UK, employing Aussie and Polish doctors at much lower wages than a British GP gets, providing all sorts of on-site services that a British GP will not offer, and vastly improving the quality of local health care, while taking pressure off local hospital emergency and elective care services, and driving all the surrounding GPs out of business or forcing them to negotiate new, lower-price contracts. Somewhere at the back of this will be a flamboyant, oily Antipodean doctor – in my vision he has been barred from practicing himself[4], probably for shagging patients – who drives fast cars, has 3 mistresses, and blows huge amounts of money up his nose. It’ll never happen, but it would be great if it did.

    fn4: And this oily guy is always male

  • Flood is a disaster story of epic proportions, written by Stephen Baxter. The story follows a group of 4 friends over a 30 year period from the moment in 2012 when they make a pledge under strange circumstances to always look out for one another, as a disaster of incredible size overtakes the earth. This disaster is a biblical-style flood, caused by huge, previously undiscovered reservoirs of water under the earth’s crust that escape into the world’s oceans after a seismic event. The seepage is initially small, leading just to increased amounts of rain, and then to unexpected floods, but the rate of increase is exponential and the quantity of water beneath the globe sufficient to completely submerge all land on earth. This isn’t a global warming event – though the increase in quantities of warm water accelerates the effects of global warming – but a massive,worldwide seismic catastrophe causing a rapid and catastrophic loss of human habitat.

    The early part of the story, when the flooding is still manageable, is more of a human interest story about how the four friends recover from the circumstances of their initial meeting and settle into a new and waterlogged world. But as the floods intensify and it becomes clear that something is up the story turns into one of discovery as the friends find out what is really happening, then a slow devolution from adaptation to survival to extinction. The later stages of the story become more of an overview of how human society tries to cope with its own imminent extinction by forces beyond any technology’s ability to control, and attempts to describe both the geopolitical, social, and personal effects of the essential collapse of human civilization and the potential disappearance of the human race.

    This is a very interesting idea. How do societies behave as their collapse becomes inevitable, and what will people do to survive? And can people even come to terms with the possibility of their civilization’s inevitable destruction? What measures would they put in place? And can humanity survive without land? Obviously irrelevant questions, because the science of the catastrophe is completely unrealistic, but this is the kind of speculation science fiction was built for. After I finished this book I spent a lot of time wondering how society could adapt to living on a water world where all mining is impossible, and energy can only come from sun, wind and waves. What raw materials could you use? How would you prepare the remnants of your society for this? An interesting intellectual exercise. The book covers this primarily through the perspective of an egotistical company direct who runs a corporation specializing in disaster preparedness and recovery. As the world retreats from the sea he conceives of increasingly desperate schemes to protect his family and friends, and to remain powerful and on top in the new world. His schemes are ultimately fruitless in a sense, though he and his allies survive a lot longer than almost everyone else, and can be said to have escaped the catastrophe in a sense. His failure is no fault of his personal failings, either – the water just got the better of him, and the constant failings of the increasingly fragile societies within which he works continually set his schemes backwards. There is also the implication that other approaches – cooperation with other organizations and states – may have worked better, though I suspect we’ll find that their schemes were even crazier and less successful if we read the sequel, Ark. Certainly he seemed like an ingenious survivor to me, and lasting 30 years as the sea wipes out everything seems like quite an achievement to me.

    The science of this book being obviously, ludicrously impossible, the main flaws in this book concerned characterization and dialogue. It’s definitely hard sci-fi and sometimes the prose was a little dry and uninteresting, the interactions of the characters a little stilted and hollow, and in this sense the book is definitely driven forward by the continual unfolding of events, and the fascination with watching everyone drown. For this reason it’s definitely not a book to everyone’s tastes, but if you’re interested in questions of social adaptation, survival and how the world changes under extreme environmental pressure, it’s worth looking into. I don’t think it has much direct relevance to global warming and its effects – the most extreme predictions of which don’t hold a candle to the events in this tale – but it does serve as an interesting tale about the importance of “ecological services” to human social cohesion and economic success. To this end it also fits in well with the movie I watched on the weekend, The Road, and some of my thoughts about zombies and survivalism. But ultimately the disasters in all these books and movies are so beyond anything we can expect to actually befall the earth that really they’re just interesting speculative tales. I wonder what it says about modern sensibilities that they all involve, one way or another, cannibalism?

    Anyway, in summary this book is a good read if you’re interested in ecological catastrophes and/or disaster tales, it’s easy to read if you can be carried forward by plot and are willing to overlook occasional clumsiness in writing style and characterization. Overall I recommend it.

  • This is not a milk delivery

    The Road is a nasty post-apocalypse movie by John Hillcoat, based on the novel of the same name by Cormac McCarthy. The basic story is very simple – a man and his son are walking south towards the coast through a post-apocalyptic landscape, trying to survive while they head for the sea. The cause of the apocalypse is not described, but the land has been locked in a perpetual winter, all the animals and plants are dead and gone, and there are no surviving communities. What few humans there are mostly live by cannibalism, scavenging the ruined towns and cities for any edible remnants of the time before but mostly living by killing and eating other travellers – or keeping them alive and eating them bit by bit, depending on how clever they are. The sky, the land and the buildings are all grey, there is regular rain and snow, and the father in the story is slowly dying of what appears to be some kind of apocalypse-related disease. They are heading south in hopes of finding land capable of sustaining life and communities, and also some warmth, because they realize they can’t survive another winter in the freezing inland.

    The majority of this movie is a story completely without goodness or hope. The scenes of cannibalism are quite horrific, and the two lead characters do not have any positive encounters with people during their travels. They hide from any people they see, and don’t trust anyone. On several occasions they stumble on functioning small communities of about the size of a small gang, only to discover that they are cannibals living in horrifyingly primitive and evil circumstances, and have to flee. Even the non-cannibals they meet have hints of terrible pasts – an old man who may have eaten his own son, for example – and the two main characters are themselves constantly starving, so that the question of “would you or wouldn’t you?” weighs heavily upon them.

    This movie was probably a little too grim for my tastes, and strikes me as one of those moments where a book shouldn’t have been made into a film. It’s just too nasty to put actors to, even if the actors in question manage to do the job brilliantly. The world of the apocalypse is powerfully done, so that you really do feel like you’re there, and there’s not really anything you question about the veracity of the setting – it’s internally very consistent. Viggo Mortensen puts in a powerful performance as the father, and all the other actors live up to their parts most admirably. But you find yourself thinking, by the end of it, that surely even the most powerful artistic powers are thoroughly wasted if they are bending their prodigious talents to the production of something so horrific and grim as this.

    My only two complaints with this movie are minor, but they may bug other viewers too. The boy – Viggo Mortensen’s son – played by Kodi Smit-McPhee, is annoyingly weak and innocent, and does things that after 7 or 10 years of post-apocalyptic life you’d think would be well beaten out of any sensible survivor. He seems to have no cynicism or mistrust, he is physically weak (reasonable, I suppose) and he is incapable of being silent when he needs to be. He also doesn’t seem to analyze situations very well, either. His innocence and purity are so inconsistent with the world around him that it makes one think he was written into the story as a kind of allegory of human conscience, in which case it was all done rather clumsily. At times his mistakes and weak points are quite frustrating, and it’s hard to believe that after 10 years of dodging cannibals – and in some cases watching them kill and eat the people who don’t dodge them – he hasn’t quite managed to work out that he is living in a world where no-one can be trusted. But I can also see that this is the intent of the story – the father has managed to shelter his boy from the worst of the apocalypse for years, and has difficulty preparing the boy to look after himself once papa dies.

    My other complaint is that the ending seems a bit deus ex machina, in that after setting up a world of such unrelenting cruelty, that presents its survivors with such hard and nasty choices, the final resolution to the plot seems so unbelievable as to be almost an act of god. However, the presence of a moment of hopefulness in an otherwise completely forlorn and ruined world made it acceptable. Had the movie ended more realistically, with the final scene being the kid being butchered and eaten by scumbags, I probably would have set fire to my tv. Or myself.

    In short, this is a great movie that it’s best not to watch.

  • PC達がヘイデルドーフの冒険を終了して、逃げている貴族からいろな慰労金をもらった。この慰労金は宝石や高級アイテムで編成されたが、合計は160銀コインであった。PC達は、損傷がひどいから、ウバーズレイクに帰ったとたんにこのお金を消費して、治療を買った。治療後の残りは10銀だから、冒険の終わりはウーバーズレイクから出かけたままの状況に戻った。

    いすれかの準備ができたあとで、この間送らせたネズミ捕りのスパイからメッセージが届けた。北の公園で会って、ネズミ捕り組合についての情報を伝えてもらった:

    • 組合は、1ヶ月以内に、大きい事件を期待している
    • PC達が組合メンバーの人数を減らしたから、組合はPC達について心配していて、PC達を扱うために8人の傭兵を契約した
    • 明日、組合の大尉はPC達と連絡して、貴族としてものまねしながら狂言冒険の契約を提案する。PC達は、この狂言冒険を従ったら、傭兵に伏せられて、殺される
    • PC達が見つけたアジトの下にある下水の地図がある
    • 組合の人数は20人+上士メンバー

    これから、PC達は何をするかわかった。この大尉を捕まえて、尋問する。そして、アジトに行って、組合の秘密な計画がばれるまで組合のメンバーの全員を殺す。

    ネズミ捕り大尉の終わり

    ネズミ捕り大尉の出会いは「悲しい盾」というパブで行われる。このパブはネズミ捕りのパブだから、何か事件があったらだれも気がつかない。大尉と警備兵と個室で会ったから、部屋に入ったとたんに攻撃した。アルソンは矢の連射攻撃して、ヘインズが魔法ダートを繰り出して、シュゼットが弱き呪いを呼び出した。皆さんが戦闘に絡まれれば、部屋の後ろのドアからネズミ捕りもう4人が入り込んでPC達を攻撃した。大尉がテブルの上に飛んで、だれでもに細い刀で刺したが、4ラウンドくらいあとで、ネズミ捕りの全員がヘインズの雷光呪文で退治された。戦闘の部屋が雷光に満ちた。

    PC達が早く死体を調べて、無意識の大尉を発根で逃げたが、尋問何をしても、かれは組合の秘密を出さなかった。大尉を不明な状態で見捨てて、アジトに急いで行った。

    アジトと下水

    アジトで使われている倉庫に着いたと、誰もいないと発見した。組合の人数がそんなに少なくなったから、アジト倉庫に張り込める人数がないようであった。PC達が秘密なドアを開けて、下水に下がった。基本地図を従って、アルソンは入り口の近くの警備室まで隠密で行って、射撃要撃で2人のネズミ捕りを殺した。広い導管で下水の汚い水に歩いて行くかわりに、狭い廊下でネズミ捕り巣に行った。この廊下の途中で、アルソンは上手に隠された糸罠を見つけた。この罠にかかったら、石が落ちて大きな音でアラームを呼ぶようであったが、アルソンが見つけたからPC達が隠密でネズミ捕り巣に行けた。廊下の出口についたと、古い下水の建物の遺跡を見た。この遺跡の中には、ネズミ捕り部下の8人、警備兵1人、大尉1人がいた。このメンバーはPC達が見られなかったから、PC達が伏せてネズミ捕りを攻撃した。ネズミ捕りは驚いたが、すぐ戦闘に入った。

    この戦闘の中で、ヘインズがよくヘイデルドーフで見つけたペドロの侵蝕三角柱を使ったから、すぐ混沌変異を得た。からのヒフが悪そうな白い光で輝く変異を得たから、皆さんは、ヘインズを見るとヘインズは混沌侵蝕を我慢しているのがわかりやすい。ヘインズの耐久力値が3だから、もう2つの混沌変異だけ我慢ができる。4つ目我慢するときに、PCが終わって、自分のに混沌変異として壊滅されるはずである。あの三角柱が呪いだと分かって、使用をやめたが、戦闘がすぐ終わったから問題がなかった。PC達が、軽いケガだけを我慢してネズミ捕りに勝った。ネズミ捕りメンバーの人数はこれから10人以下だから、PC達はすぐこの変な組合のボスを殺して、秘密を見つけると思っていた。。。

  • Having finished their activities in the town of Heideldorf (which the PCs refer to as “Sausageville”), the PCs were given minor rewards by the (rapidly) departing nobles. These rewards added up in total to 160 Silver Shillings, which upon their return to Ubersreik the PCs immediately spent on healing and healing potions, leaving them a mere 10 Silver Shillings better off than they were when they were last in Ubersreik. “At last I can give up this life of crime…”

    Having attended to some basic housekeeping, the PCs received a note from the rat-catcher who had wisely decided to work as a spy for them in the mysterious rat-catchers’ guild of Ubersreik. They met him in the park north of the castle, and he told them some useful information about the situation within the rat-catchers’ guild:

    • The guild was expecting some kind of big “event” within a month
    • The PCs had significantly reduced the guild’s numbers, and so they were beginning to worry about the PCs. To this end they had hired 8 mercenaries to deal with the PCs
    • Tomorrow, a senior figure in the guild would meet the PCs disguised as a noble, and offer them a fake adventure, an adventure which would end with them being ambushed by the mercenaries and slaughtered
    • He had a map of the sewers underneath the safe house the PCs had found previously
    • About 20 rat-catchers remained in the guild, plus senior leaders

    So, now the PCs knew what to do … they would catch this “senior figure,” and administer some “enhanced interrogation” until he coughed up everything they needed to know. Then they would break into the safe house and kill everyone until they got an answer to the question “what are you lot up to?”

    Captain Rat-catcher’s End

    The meeting with the captain was due to take place in the Sad Shield, the rat-catcher guild’s tame local pub, where any trouble would go unreported. They were to meet the captain and his two bodyguards in a private room. The PCs didn’t mess around here; as soon as they entered the room they launched to the attack, with Aruson the thief unleashing a volley of arrows into the captain, Heinze letting fly with his magic dart, and Suzette unleashing weakening curses on all present. After battle was joined a group of 4 rat-catcher sewer guards burst in from a rear door, and the Captain leapt onto the table, drawing his rapier and laying about him with gleeful abandon; but after perhaps 4 or 5 rounds the entire squad were subdued by Heinze’s lightning bolt spell, which suffused the entire room in a ball of lightning that wiped out the entire rat-catcher squad. The PCs quickly looted the bodies, then dragged the unconscious and badly injured captain out the back door and away to their safe house.

    Here they interrogated him for a few hours, but nothing they did would work. He wasn’t willing to disclose any information, so they abandoned him – in a possibly not very clearly-stated manner – and set off to pursue their next line of inquiry. They would infiltrate the sewers beneath the rat-catcher’s safe house and kill the remaining 14 members in their quest to uncover the truth of the Guild’s plans.

    The Safe House and The Sewers

    The PCs went straight to the warehouse that served as a safe house for the rat-catchers, and finding no one inside they went straight through the secret door and down into the sewers. Following the basic map they had been given, Aruson the thief snuck ahead to a guardroom near the entryway, and killed the two guards there in a surprise attack. Rather than wade through the main causeways to the rat-catchers’ nest, the PCs took a narrow, not-quite-so-smelly side corridor that led to the same destination. In amongst the muck of this corridor Aruson managed to spot a fiendishly well-hidden wire trap that would have sprung an alarm, and the PCs were able to sneak up on the main body of rat-catchers undetected. Here they found 8 sewer guards, a rat-catcher captain and his bodyguard. They sequestered themselves in the entry to the corridor, and opened fire with magic, bow and pistol on the group of rat-catchers. The rat-catchers charged forward, and battle was joined.

    During this battle, Heinze made heavy use of the prism he had found in Heideldorf, in order to bolster his powers. Unfortunately, he was unaware of its sinister curse, and before the end of the battle he had incurred Tzeentch’s wrath – his first mutation. His skin was changed so that it glowed with a faint and sickly white light, a clear sign to anyone viewing him that there was something wrong about him. Realizing that the prism was a dangerous curse, Heinze stopped using it, and so was able to contribute less to the battle. Nonetheless, the PCs prevailed with only minor injuries to themselves, their position in the mouth of the corridor guaranteeing that their missile weapon users were safe from attack and able to rain death on their opponents. They had defeated more than half of the remaining rat-catchers, and now were free to chase down the leader of the Guild without having to fight many of his underlings.

    The secret of the Guild lies tantalizingly before them, and soon all its machinations must surely be revealed to them…

  • This is a magic item from the Warhammer 1st Edition adventure Fear the Worst, which I converted to 3rd Edition recently, and ran for my group as a side adventure over two sessions. After they killed the mutants in the castle the PCs discovered that the mutant leader, a wizard of Tzeentch (the chaos god of mutation and change) had a magical prism in his possession, which he appeared to be doing some kind of research on. They couldn’t identify it at the time, but after they took it back to Ubersreik and paid a mate, they learnt its powers – or so they thought.

    Pedro’s Corrupting Prism

    This magical prism is an unprepossessing, ordinary-looking glass prism, but if viewed with magical sight clearly holds a strong, neutral magic aura. Ordinary bright light (e.g. daylight) shone through it will split into the 7 colours of the rainbow just as it would through any normal, properly-used prism; but if a (mostly) pure member of the Bright or Celestial Orders shines a magical light through it, a much more sinister effect obtains. The light will split into bizarre, sickening patterns that give off a disturbing, dark magic aura. This is the only hint that any magic user can obtain that the prism is, in fact, powerfully cursed in the service of Tzeentch. The prism confers a powerful boon on its user, but comes with a secret and ultimately deadly curse.

    Enhanced Energy Summoning: When carried, the prism enables a wizard of any order to use the Channel Energy action as a free action without any penalty, once per round. This is an enormously seductive power, since it enables the wizard to draw energy and cast a spell every round, without suffering the usual penalties on the use of the spell that obtain from the usual quick-casting process.

    Corruption Curse: Every time a Wizard who is not a servant of Tzeentch uses this prism, have the player roll a dice pool consisting entirely of a number of challenge dice equal to the number of times the prism has been used in that encounter. That is, the first time the player uses the prism in an encounter, he or she rolls one challenge die; the second time, 2 challenge dice; and so on. If any chaos stars appear in the results, the player must immediately make an easy (1 challenge die) Resilience check. If this check fails, the player must immediately draw a single mutation from the mutation card deck.

    Optional extra evil: If the GM wishes, he or she may roll the challenge dice secretly, to make it more difficult for the player to identify the cause of the mutations. Because there is a 12.5% chance of a chaos star on a single challenge die, this optional way of resolving the curse is likely to lead to the destruction of the PC, as they will incur multiple mutations before they realize the cause, and is only recommended for GMs who themselves serve the Lord of Change.