I used to play a naval tabletop warfare game called Seekrieg with a group of friends; usually 8 to 10 people participating. It was basically a WW2 sim; the group would split into “fleets” of Axis, Allied, French Forces, whatever the scenario called for and then face off. Each player controlled a ship in a fleet.

The game was played with miniature ships on a large table (or the floor if the engagement was large enough). One fleet would move their ships, then the other fleet would do the same. Once moves were finished each player wrote down what guns were firing and what target(s) they were being fired at. It’s important to note that ships had movement rules based on the type of ship. They could only turn a certain amount in degrees, and only reach certain speeds based on their maneuvers; they’d lose a certain amount of speed in turns, had max speeds, etc.

There were two official methods for playing the game: First was the “statistical” method, where each ship had certain bonuses and hindrances based on historical data, and dice rolls would determine if the ship was successful in hitting their targets. This was the option for “serious biz” players. The other method was much better suited to our group (drinking beer and bullshitting style) and was known as “range estimation.” In this method, players would pick a target and visually estimate the range to that target in inches. When firing was resolved, the actual distance would be measured and hits determined. Players estimated to the 1/2 inch and could hit to the 1/4 inch (ex; if the player guessed 30" range and the ship was actually at 30.25", it would still hit).

Well, during this time I had been working on my degree and had gone most of the way through college trigonometry. The functions and identities were all fresh in my head. We came together one night for a game and as we were setting up I thought I could probably use my newfound skills to get the range estimation down pat. I was given a light cruiser with 8" guns. One of my opponents, who often made terrible mistakes in the game, was given a heavy cruiser with fewer guns, but bigger nastier 12 inchers.

We started the game and the first round closed distance. He outranged me and fired before I could, but missed. Second round I fired a huge spread at his ship, just to range him out (I should note that the actual range is called out when your estimate is checked if you’re within 1/2 inch). So I fired at 30", 31", 32" etc., but in doing so learned the true range to his ship. For round three I wrote down his ship’s turn angles and distances, noted mine, and then calculated the new distance. I fired all guns at his ship on this range; every single shell hit as I had dialed it in exactly. His ship took massive damage and was crippled. Repeat for round 4 and he was sunk. I repeated the performance against other players (though some of them were a bit tricksier in their maneuvers so it wasn’t quite as brutal), but our fleet carried the match without a loss.

Everyone took it in stride, but it also kinda dampened the game. I decided not to do it again since it really kinda shit on the fun factor we were playing for.

They have a name for it: Dead Sea Effect.

“WORTHLESS!!”

Your first paragraph reminded me of a short story: There Will Come Soft Rains.

I daily a 1996 Jeep Cherokee. Manual transmission, manual windows, manual door locks. The basic radio was broken before I got it. It does have computer engine control with OBD2, but even that is simple in comparison.

When something breaks or maintenance is needed, it’s a straightforward fix with typical tools. I’ve come to appreciate the simplicity.

“There are old pilots, and there are bold pilots. But there are few old, bold pilots.”

Gravity reversal. Like suddenly gravity switches to a universally repellent force and everything on the surface of the Earth starts falling into space (me included). Eventually you’d just “fall” away and the atmosphere too and you’d suffocate.

Tajabone by Ismaël Lo