I have almost caught up with all the old school Dungeons & Dragons posts I’ve been doing on twitter! So, without further ado, here’s part 9!
Die, Vecna, Die! (2000), by Bruce R. Cordell and Steve Miller. This module has the curious distinction of being perhaps the last “old school” adventure ever published!
Here’s another blog post inspired, in part, by my work on my upcoming book on Falling Felines and Fundamental Physics!
When we discuss our ideal impressions of science, we often imagine repeatedly doing laboratory experiments in which every variable is controlled and the fundamental phenomenon is isolated from all others. However, in plenty of situations, especially involving biological specimens, such controlled experiments are impractical, impossible, or unethical.
For instance, as discussed in my upcoming book, there is a phenomenon known as “feline high-rise syndrome,” in which cats that fall from higher floors of a skyscraper are seemingly less injured than those falling from lower floors. Because — thankfully — nobody is deliberately throwing cats out of windows to study how they fall, veterinarians must rely on those accidental fallen cats that are brought in for treatment.
A similar issue arises for unusual injuries in humans, of course. A particular spectacular — and horrifying — opportunity arose to systematically study one of these in 1886, when an accidental explosion caught ten people in its concussive blast. Here was a grisly chance for an enterprising researcher to learn more about injuries to the ear that are caused by the sounds of artillery explosions.
The arrangement of men at the U.S. Ordinance Proving Ground, Sandy Hook, October 21, 1886. From Sexton’s paper in Science.
Some exciting news to share: it turns out that my upcoming book on Falling Felines and Fundamental Physics will be translated into five languages so far! In case you missed the lovely cover image before, here it is again, for the English edition:
Right now, it looks like it’s slated to be translated into: Italian, Japanese, Korean, Russian, and Chinese, and will also be available in audiobook format! I will have more details on those translations when they get closer to completion.
In the meantime: please don’t forget that you can pre-order my book through Amazon or directly through the Yale University Press website! It is coming out on October 22nd! I will be sharing a lot more information next week, once we’re at the one month countdown.
It’s a quiet night, and I’m feeling great, so here’s old school D&D, part 8!
Chronomancer (1995), by Loren Coleman. Chronomancer is one of the oddest AD&D supplements I’ve come across yet, and highlights how much TSR was willing to experiment to keep players engaged in the 1990s.
Almost caught up on my old school Dungeons & Dragons posts from twitter! So here’s part 7!
UK4: When a Star Falls (1984), by Graeme Morris. We start today with another of the UK-produced modules, which tend to have a very different flavor and welcome quirkiness when compared to their US counterparts.
Part 6 in a long series of posts about my month and a half in China. Part 1 can be read here, Part 2 can be read here, Part 3 can be read here, Part 4 can be read here, and Part 5 can be read here.
On the day we arrived in Beijing, and on the day before I nearly killed myself climbing the Great Wall, we warmed up by visiting another of the major historical landmarks of the city: The Temple of Heaven. We in fact visited later in the day, having taken the train from Jinan that morning, but still had plenty of time to see the major sites in what is now a lovely historical park.
That image is just a tease to get your attention, but let’s back up for a minute and discuss the Temple of Heaven, its history, and its purpose.
Still doing the research on some new physics blog posts, but in the meantime, I have a lot of old school Dungeons & Dragons to catch up on! So before I share more science tricks, here’s part 6!
CB1: Conan Unchained (1984), by David Cook. As a company, TSR was not immune to the allure of making more money by licensing deals. Later, I’ll discuss some products that will blow your mind! One of the more obvious choices was to take advantage of the popularity of a certain barbarian, and the actor who played him!
Trying to keep my game of catch-up on old school D&D alive, so here’s part 5!
WG5: Mordenkainen’s Fantastic Adventure (1984), by Robert J. Kuntz and Gary Gygax. This adventure is reeeeeally old school, even though it was published in 1984!
The name sounds a bit silly, but don’t let it fool you: this adventure was first written in 1972/1973 by Robert Kuntz in order to challenge the skills of none other than Gary Gygax, who used his wizard Mordenkainen! It is a quite punishing dungeon.
Time for another edition of Old School Dungeons & Dragons! I did soooooo many of these threads on twitter, I’m kinda amazed and appalled. Still have many to catch up on here…
DDA1: Arena of Thyatis (1990), by John Nephew. This more obscure module is one I’ve had in my collection for a long time, but only finally got around to reading once I started these threads!
The final long-awaited conclusion of a trilogy of posts describing the history of the discovery of conservation of energy, inspired by my research on “Falling Felines and Fundamental Physics.” Part 1 can be read here, and part 2 can be read here.
NOTE: Be prepared this is a long post! James Joule did a lot.
In 1798, Count Rumford had noted that there was a problem with the accepted caloric theory of heat. In 1842, Julius Robert Mayer presented a theory of conserved “forces,” basically laying out for the first time a theory of what we now call conservation of energy, in which energy is neither created nor destroyed, but only changes form. Mayer furthermore gave a quantitative estimate of the mechanical equivalent of heat, viewing heat as a form of motion (as we now know today to be true).
James Joule, circa 1863. Taken from the Memoir of James Prescott Joule (1892).
But neither Rumford nor Mayer pursued their investigations with enough rigor to convince the scientific community to embrace such a radical new vision of physics. Such work would instead be done by a third unlikely researcher: James Prescott Joule (1818-1889), the son of a wealthy brewer and a remarkably young man when he made his key breakthroughs in the 1840s. Starting from simple investigations into the efficiency of engines, Joule would eventually, almost ruthlessly, demonstrate the energy equivalence of a variety of different types of natural phenomena — mechanical work, heat, electricity, and chemical reactions. His studies would transform our understanding of the universe and connect different aspects of it in ways previously almost undreamed of.
The author of Skulls in the Stars is a professor of physics, specializing in optical science, at UNC Charlotte. The blog covers topics in physics and optics, the history of science, classic pulp fantasy and horror fiction, and the surprising intersections between these areas. 
Skulls in the Stars 