rta_mostyn

Memo to Embassy Staff

2009-09-14T23:52:02Z

From: Sir Mostyn Dafydd, Majordomo
To: Clerks, Junior Clerks, and File Clerks
Re: The Perfect Parakeet

We will never speak of the parakeet incident again.

In completely unrelated news, Auxiliary File Storage Room 32B has been locked, sealed, and barricaded, and should under no circumstances be entered for the next six to eight weeks. Anyone working in Auxiliary File Storage Room 32A who suffers from inexplicably strong reactions to the muffled sound of cheeping should report to counseling staff until said personal flaw has been corrected.

Remember, your professionalism in the face of completely resolved and no longer worthy of discussion peril is what keeps this embassy running!

Dear Diary

2009-08-31T18:28:59Z

Saw a bird burst into flames in mid-air today for no readily apparent reason.

Air-breathing fauna are very strange. (Though on consideration, said ability, if natural, could be very useful if enhanced properly for use as a sort of aerial fire bombardment of enemy positions.) And potentially flammable. Must keep this in mind for future research and experimentation techniques.

Dear Diary

2009-07-24T23:22:00Z

Never would have dreamed Begmans could properly appreciate cephalopods. Have nonetheless found my own parochial prejudices to be incorrect; that truth and beauty alike continue to lie within the reach of science; the truest expression of squid joy ever known to man.

Must research this marvelous device further. Perhaps a visit to Begma is in order, as vacation time allows.

Excerpt from the experimental notebooks

2009-07-07T03:46:35Z

- Need improved glue. Currently available supply of glue is doing a terrible of sticking turtles to one another. Must examine the formula, upgrade as appropriate.
- May need a replacement turtle.

Excerpt from the theory notebooks

2009-07-05T18:03:42Z

It may be overly axiomatic to claim that Order defines things as what they are not, as much as it defines them as what they are. This is straightforward and obvious enough as to need little comment. Yet, as with any good axiom, it leads to other theories, and therein lie the complications. If it defines the what-is and what-is-not, where does that leave chaos, which ought to fill in the lines and skins of definition? Where is the room for anything other than order, when such a definition leaves so little space for anything but itself?

I believe that the matter to keep in mind is that a definition of a thing is not that thing. Consider a simple sphere, infinitely thin and empty within, entirely theoretical, compared to every equation needed to represent it. I could write those equations very simply, and even extrapolate from them a few interesting others based on peculiarities of unreal geometry. Yet none of this conjures up this impossible sphere; it is merely numbers on paper, and the thin smear of graphite across the surface of dried wood pulp has more reality than all those perfected numbers.

Nonetheless, there is a connection between the numbers and the reality. If a real, imperfect sphere appears, I may draw several conclusions about them, and define much of its nature to someone who cannot pick up something like this little glass bulb lying on my desk, through the appropriate numbers. With enough numbers and words, someone I have never spoken with, a thousand years from now, might be able to recreate another little glass bulb just like this one, so near its twin that even with more specialized tools we could not tell the two apart when laid next to each other. (I ignore, for the moment, the inevitable effects of time on the original. We assume a theoretical comparison, one against the other, each at the same age.)

If the reality can become numbers, and numbers reality again, where is the cold, sharp line between the two? I believe that is the fissure through which chaos seeps, and animates the inert. From numbers to physical representation requires conscious action. It may be a thousand actions spread across a thousand actors, worked through machines that click along doing what they were made to do without any deliberation of their own, but even so at some point those machines were made by someone to interpret the numbers. The collection of numbers was performed through action and intent, even if it was in making yet another machine that would discover them and pass them along. One may theorize an entire city of nothing but machinery, whirring along with analysis of the world and then recreation of it, moving between numbers and reality seamlessly, and yet somewhere someone has been the origin of all of this.

That is where the chaos hides when one attempts to reduce everything to order. It lies in decisions, even those decisions made with one intention that produce the opposite result. There is no perfect static state for the world, because perfection involves the true nature of things, and too many things have true natures that require motion and change. Too many things have natures set in opposition to other natures, and so any perfection of one must oppose the perfection of another. The immovable object and the irresisitable force cannot coexist.

Except perhaps they can, in a universe of so many worlds. The immovable object sits in one shadow, perfect. The irresistable force in another, rampaging all through its finite world, never stopped. If they cannot meet each other, does it matter that they cannot coexist? There they are, both perfectly true within their own spheres of reality or unreality.

And so it all comes down to context again, of which I never have enough...

Dear Diary

2009-07-01T21:27:01Z

Came to unexpected success in today's sparring match. Not certain if this is actually reason to be optimistic about success rate vs. possible upcoming assassination attempts. Unlikely to be reason to worry more than any existing reasons for worry, so will assume optimism, hope, long-term survival, et cetera for the time being.

Must remember to speak to Captain M. about security issues, especially involving mirrors. Have been wondering about the possible uses of mirror creation and study for inflitration of mirror-free locations. More study may be required. More study may be highly entertaining. Good combination, that.

Dear Diary

2009-06-20T17:06:11Z

Out of tea. Running out of options. Considering moving to a less political career.

Wonder if the University of Begma accepts foreign students to their engineering program.

To-Do List

2009-06-10T15:58:56Z

- Examine updated pony permit paperwork and compare against existing embassy rules to determine if an exception is valid
- Find out just how much screaming will occur from floor-buffing staff if paperwork is approved
- Check with Captain about potential security hazards of introducing ponies to embassy interior
- Tea!
- Reschedule all sleep for tomorrow
- Find out if enormous stack of extradition request paperwork still needs to be delivered to the Watch
- Add perch to the embassy menus for the next week
- Tea!
- Reschedule all sleep for Friday
- Check on Glanworths' return to schedule discussion re: mechanical prophet, fabulous house
- Compose extremely polite eviction notice
- Ask resident selkies about long-term side-effects of breathing-related kissing/handshakes
- Tea!
- Reschedule all sleep for some time next week
- Feed Snooker
- Put out fires caused by excited aestupus
- Apologize to embassy cooks re: huge quantity of perch in the cool room
- Stop by Palace Library to do research while attempting to look not very Rebman (remember the hat)
- Tea!
- Fail to get any sleep (see: rescheduling, tea)

Dear Diary

2009-06-09T18:50:17Z

Stayed up all night working on theory & design for mechanical prophet. (Have rescheduled missing hours of sleep for a week from Thursday.) Hypothesis needs testing, but seems sound so far. Suspect trip to Begma may be in order to reduce variables for best functioning of prophetic nature, mechanical nature, combination of the two.

Expecting highly accurate prophecies of major upcoming events related to large quantities of mechanical items in near future as soon as test is attempted. Cannot see how anything could possibly go wrong with this.

Dear Diary

2009-05-28T01:55:14Z

No progress on the mechanical prophet experiment due to conveniently mechanically inclined friends being off in Begma. Would take it as inspiration for a visit right now, except for relative instability of international politics this month. Fully aware that "stability" has not lingered overly near concepts like "politics" while locatd in Amber in all the time since having arrived here, but nonetheless feel that departure, frivolous romping through other nations for personal investigations and experimentation would be somewhat improper at this point.

Must remember to remove perch from the embassy baths. Perhaps mechanical perch would be less objectionable? Must investigate upon C&M's return.

Note to self:

2009-04-22T04:16:32Z

Speak with C. about building a mechanical prophet, suitable for predicting future events affecting large numbers of machines, to test new theory re: nature of non-divine prophecy methodology and sympathetic energy with reverse chronological flow.

(Also, try to find someone able to speak with rock, willing to engage in fascinating new experiments related to prophetic abilities of granite. Sandstone? Must research relative sensitivity of varying rock types. Suspect metaphoric rock will be most useful.)

Dear Diary

2009-04-13T18:22:37Z

Somewhat concerned about destruction of Begman embassy, though less so than initially expected due to unusual reports from home. Primary remaining concern involves potential for similar attack on own embassy, though if such should be threatened have high confidence in C.M. stabbing all invaders before fire, chaos, et cetera break out in excessive quantities. Very reassuring to have such faith in embassy security.

Resulting discussions re: magic vs. technology moderately interesting, especially in light of personal investigations in both areas. Have generally held with the viewpoint that technology and magic are varying approaches to essentially similar goals using differing media for the purpose (compare: crossing ocean on a ship vs. swimming). Both involve research, study, advances, lost knowledge, et cetera. Both seem prone to making things catch on fire, though some more purposefully than others. (Do mages set things on fire accidentally when in training stages? Must investigate. Not often relevant in home environment.) However, differences seem strikingly relevant of late.

Not entirely certain where own research fits in between supposedly polar opposites of magic, technology. Distinct similarities to both, even if the mystical connections are more easily apparent. (Suspect this is due to magical effects being more varying in nature than those of moderately standardized technology; thus, easier to draw connections to the magical with any new topic of research than to the technological.) G.'s involvement clear sign technological connection isn't dismissable. May yet be a third point, though not clear if this is a metaphorical triangle, third dimension, or if magical/technological can form an axis with orderly/chaotic for a sort of plotting graph of various effects.

Suspect a research paper on the topic would be fascinating, if four people had not already forbidden me to speak publically about various aspects of my research. Oh well.

Dear Diary

2009-03-24T04:37:14Z

~~Found out that~~

~~Discovered that I shouldn't talk about~~

~~Still worried about~~

Everything is fine today. Nice to be back in Rebma for a few days. Not especially looking forward to visiting Mother, but one does what one must. Will have to remember to call U. and ask her to check in on Snooker for me while away. Could probably use a small vacation anyway.

Note to Self:

2009-03-22T03:05:29Z

Princes are terrifying.

Multiple Princes in one location are terrifying exponentially, not linearly.

To-Do List

2009-03-04T06:58:04Z

- Breakfast!
- Check on estimate for bulk order of AutoClerks with C.
- Check on house construction progress, esp. shark pit
- Infuse assorted small, easily contained animals with primal Order
- Find out what happens when they're cross-bred with each other or unmodified animals
- More weapons practice with M., and M. if available
- Select, improve, and send off politically inoffensive yet suitably demonstrative object for J.
- Lunch!
- Look into spring styles for new form creation among trendy young accountants this year
- Discuss benefits, potential disadvantages (any?) of close personal relationship with Order, with various
- Worry about sudden uptick in rate of meetings with royalty, non-Rebman
- Paperwork
- Offer constructive criticism to junior clerks
- Dinner! (With E. if possible)
- Attempt to perfect something entirely new. (Wallpaper? Mustard? Yarn? May be time to ask U. or C. for suggestions.)
- Play with Snooker
- Recreational mathematics
- Sleep (as time allows)

Dear Diary

2009-02-23T04:30:02Z

Can't sleep. ~~Prince Caine~~ ~~clowns~~ ~~sharks~~ ~~Prince Caine~~ Scary things will get me.

A Letter Home

2009-02-18T02:57:49Z

Dear Mother,

I've been giving a great deal of thought lately to the nature of things, and by extension, how we become the people we are. There's the age old simplification of the entire question--nature versus nurture--but that is a simplification, isn't it? There is more to either of us than the sum of our bloodlines and how we were raised, or even the sum of our specific parents and our experiences. The trick lies in determining what, in the midst of all the overlapping constructs of fealties and preferences, actually defines who we are. We would all be different people in some ways if our blood made different demands on us, or our nations, yet I do believe in each person there is something quintessentially them that would remain the same. But this single essential piece is like a musical note, or the color in a picture: distinct, yet without moral compass, inherent meaning, any aspect of good or bad or proper of its own. It can only be expressed as part of those accrued structures, nature or nature, and through them expressed in a way it should or shouldn't.

Why do I bring up this matter of constructs and reality and the untangling of the essential from the accrued in a letter to you? I suppose that's a fair question, if I may be so bold as to assume you've bothered to read this far and reached the natural reaction. It's actually quite simple; you are the producer of much of the structure about me, and so however I express myself now, whatever this color I might be, I have you to thank or blame for the lines drawn around me that give me definition. You are not the sole definer of these structures, but you built the earliest scaffolding about me, and dictated for me a range of all my expressions of self. So perhaps in this you'll understand what I mean when I say that you have made me what I am today, as a statement that gives definition without handing any power back to you.

Shall we discuss power? If my true self is one dimension, and those structures that my self is built into and fills out to have meaning are the second dimension, power must be the third. What I am, what I choose to do, and then what I am able to do. Perhaps we should speak of power as environment, closely linked to the structures mentioned earlier. (The second and third dimensions have always been easier to tie to each other than either to the first, in its line-like, one-note nature. There is very little of interest to say about the first dimension, even though it's what all the others are built upon.) When I write of power, it might almost be more accurate to refer to a lack of resistance to action. The third dimension is always space. Space to act, space to move, space to decide and determine and act upon others.

I have more space here in Amber than you ever gave me. I once thought that by leaving your presence, I would find that space I needed, that third dimension you'd kept from me, but I only changed the shape of the restrictions around me. Here in a dry land far from home I've finally learned how to carve out the space around me. The little tin cut-out has finally become a real boy, just like in the stories, but I think this story continues beyond the happily ever after.

What this all comes down to, I suppose, is two points. Thank you for what you made me into; it's served me well. And I don't really need you anymore, though it seems I did before more than I ever realized. The scaffolding is superfluous after the building is finished. The chisel isn't needed once the stone has been carved. I will give you thanks for what you made of me, even if it was no more your plan than the the sculpture is the idea of the chisel.

I do believe I'm ready to handle things without you, now. But you have not been forgotten. Only rendered irrelevant by the passage of time and the increase in understanding.

Your dutiful son,

Mostyn

Dear Diary

2009-02-16T19:47:47Z

Have finally found a way to combat the squirrels. All it requires now is working out the last details of the math, and the menace from small furry woodland creatures will finally be properly addressed. Spent a few minutes practicing appropriate dramatic speeches discussing the end to their reign of terror in a mirror, but when even Snooker begins laughing at me, suspect said dramatic speeches should wait. Just don't have the flair to carry them off. Maybe when have acquired as much experience as Uncle S.

Also came to interesting new metaphysical conclusions that suggest best way to improve the universe is to remove certain portions of it, in a suitably surgical manner. Suspect there would be objections in various circles to any attempts to do so. (Then again, possibly not; population of Amber, Golden Circle apparently highly prone to ignoring all major instances of destruction and doom not intimately tied to their own livelihoods, and even some that are. Suspect it is a sort of acquired defensive trait, akin to playing dead in front of predators.) In any case, in no position to act on interesting metaphysical conclusions, though some could do with some discussion and presentation to potentially like-minded individuals.

Also completed the final revision of the new filing system for the embassy. Can only hope that the clerks are prepared for this one. Has been months since the last complete reworking of the filing system, so they ought to be expecting it by now. Will keep them busy while my time's taken up with looking over construction progress on the new house.

Dear Diary

2009-01-05T17:35:57Z

Encountered and patted the Best Rock Ever, then got back to the city in time to receive the Best Present Ever. Overall, an excellent day, suitable for memorializing in a diary entry. However, too busy studying the manual for the Best Present Ever to spend much longer creating said diary entry.

Dear Diary

2008-12-31T20:35:36Z

Difficulty with being on the verge of a breakthrough is that the verge continues to not, in fact, be the actual breakthrough itself. Growing somewhat weary of trees. They continue to be aboreal and mildly untidy, though one must admire the fractal-like nature of the branch growth patterns among some species.

Must stop by C.'s place to discuss building plans, acquire portable anti-squirrel devices, attempt new improved Begman coffee technique, et cetera, as soon as he and M. return from Begma trip. The empty lot continues to be exceedingly empty, but at least the title and permit issues are being dealt with promptly.

Dear Diary

2008-12-18T19:21:34Z

Forget squirrels, it's the horses that are out to kill me.

Dear Diary

2008-12-17T17:58:29Z

Difficult to write neatly from horseback. Difficult to seriously contemplate Squirrel Plotting when in pain from horseback riding, and hours yet to go today. (Plus more riding tomorrow. Ow.) Difficult to do paperwork when more than a day's travel away from the office. Difficult to figure out where we are or where we're going, as the rangers aren't a talkative bunch.

On the plus side, making excellent time. Possibly. Or at least gathering informative new data points about horse-based travel rates through wooded areas.

Dear Diary

2008-12-15T17:05:31Z

Still dreaming of trees.

Can't sleep. Imaginary squirrels will eat me.

Dear Diary

2008-12-07T15:52:30Z

Spent a day-trip yesterday in one of those big open places full of air and trees, in hopes of better understanding the natural order behind the conspiracy among the squirrels. Managed to avoid being devoured by any fuzzy woodland creatures, squirrel-like or otherwise, but returned home in a state of disarray not typically equalled by a casual stroll down to a coffee house in the city. Still having difficulty seeing the organization within such an area, which leads me to the natural and tentative conclusion:

The squirrels are concealing something from me.

Further study is no doubt in order.

Dear Diary

2008-11-28T22:34:40Z

Still haven't discovered an ultimate source of Order. Still haven't discovered the location of a high concentration of Order. Still haven't arrived at a solution for all existing difficulties through the simple application of a single universal formula. Have taken to making perfected paperclips and axiomatic letter openers out of general frustration. (Discovery: a sufficiently orderly letter opener will cut an envelope open without any rips every time, but will not accidentally impale one's hand in an unfortunate slip while drinking tea. Improvement!)

On the plus side, having marvelous luck with imported teas from Penglai, quirks of translating pi into binary representation, and terrorizing clerks into appropriate levels of accuracy in their work.