Seven years ago I had a Windows box rocking a Radeon 3400 video card that was working just fine for me, give or take. Then I saw that the successor to Final Fantasy XI was coming out. I had really enjoyed FFXI for a while, though I hadn’t played it in years at that point, and really looked forward to the new title. But there were rumors that the new title had some fairly intensive minimum specs. I downloaded the benchmark software, and lo it was true. Framerates plummeted. Particle effects stuttered. My little Radeon simply wasn’t up to the task, so I bit the bullet and got myself a modest but respectable GTX 460 that was up to the task. Alas, I’ve got no staying power when it comes to MMORPGs. I had stopped playing before they pulled the plug on the ill-fated original release.

Now I’m back. After ignoring multiple requests to try out A Realm Reborn, the re-launch of the game I had so looked forward to that I upgraded by home computer for it, I’ve come back to a strongly similar but greatly expanded, improved, and matured multiplayer game as a complete newbie. Things have changed in the MMO world. A lot of the issues I had with previous titles have been ironed out either through innovations in game design (the Duty Finder is particularly helpful) or simply by the ubiquity of online communities, wikis, and YouTube foolios putting tips & tricks at my fingertips. A little over three months in we’ve got a reasonably-competent new Whitemage / Paladin prowling the Thanalan Desert, marshalling troops for the Twin Adders, and generally making an ass of myself. Square Enix seems to have done a good job of nurturing a community of veteran players, feeding them new content that encourages them to help out us helpful newcomers in ways that I never came across in previous forays into a handful of older titles back in the day.

Part of an ongoing series on an ironman playthrough of Europa Universalis IV as the Papal States. 

In January of 1500, Pope Alexander VI has recently subjugated Candar and Ramazan, two Turkish territories bordering the Black Sea and the Mediterranean respectively. The Papal State’s holdings had expanded to include much of Tuscany, Romagnan lands up to an including Ferrara, and Northern Napoli.  The great bulk of this and previous Popes’ military and diplomatic efforts had been exerted primarily towards limiting and later eliminating the Ottoman juggernaut in the near East, establishing local vassals to peacefully administer the Orthodox Christians and Sunni Muslims native to those lands.  The Mamluks are a serious regional power, Wallachia is poised to pounce on Ottoman Bulgaria. Serbia is losing a war that will force them to spit out Ragusa, a thorn in their side that will become a serious problem in due time.

Looking North, we see that Denmark has incorporated Norway into its realm and annexed Riga. England has Scotland on the ropes, and has split the island of Ireland with Munster. Oldenburg and Nassau has acquitted themselves well, taking over Frisia and Münster. The Teutonic Order is in a pretty sorry state and not likely to maintain independence after its current war with Poland. The middle of the Holy Roman Empire is, as usual, an unqualified mess.

In Western Europe we see a familiar division between Portugal and Castile, with France having taken Catalonia from Aragon, and England maintaining multiple toeholds in the continent. Their war with France isn’t looking good at the moment, but the English lion will remain in Acquitaine and Normandy for some time to come. Austria has expanded its holdings from Sundgau up toward the Low Countries. What could possibly go wrong there? Brittany is not only still independent, but has taken Anjou and Maine from Provence.

To the Eastern extent of Alexander’s knowledge, Muscovy has run Novgorod into the ground and should be forming Russia in short order. Poland and Lithuania have been in a personal union for a while now, and will soon integrate into the Commonwealth, a proper superpower with the greatest manpower resources in the world, eclipsing even Ming China.

Part of an ongoing series on an ironman playthrough of Europa Universalis IV as the Papal States. 

We pick up our story in the year of our Lord 1455. Pope Pius II has been elected by the college of cardinals and assumed the mantle of the Holy See.  He would oversee a period of interior development, as well as the entrance of the Papal States into the Holy Roman Empire. Under his guidance the Vatican Library was founded, Urbino was integrated, and Ferrara was liberated from the petty moneychangers in Venice.

Pope Pius went on to his eternal reward on October 9, 1465 after ten years of enlightened rules. Callistus III was elected shortly thereafter. During his reign, territories were gained from Naples, Constantinople was recovered from Aragon, and the Ottomans were pushed from the Bosphorus for good. So weak had the Sultan’s grip become that its Eastern Beys, Wallachia, and even tiny Albania were able to wage offensive wars against him. Strong diplomatic relations with Austria, France, and Hungary as well as the protective hand of the Holy Spirit stood the Papacy in good stead for years, until the delicate balance was disrupted. In August 1487, France would embark upon a protracted and bloody trade dispute against Aragon.  Entering the war would mean breaking a long-standing alliance with Hungary and exposing his temporal realm to a three-front war in Northern and Southern Italy as well as in Greece. With manpower already perilously low and unwilling to unleash the depravity of mercenary forces against fellow Christians, Callistus declined to engage. This rattled the King of France’s confidence in the Holy Father, a grudge that would continue for over a hundred years. The Bishop of Rome’s territory had grown great, but his armies were weary and surrounded by jealous princes sharpening their swords.

On April 2, 1488, Pope Callistus passed on his sacred duties to Pope Pius III, an accomplished diplomat, able administrator, and skilled soldier. He would immediately set about mending relations with nearby Milan, Savoy, and even Qara Qoyunlu in hopes of eventually staging a crusade to break the infidel Mamluk stranglehold on the Holy Land. It was in 1490 that the Holy See first weighed in on the question of slavery in the New World. This was an issue that would come up repeatedly in the years to come, a frequent point of contention between future Popes and the emerging colonial powers. The ambitions and plans of Callistus amounted to little more than a brief period of war recovery, as he returned to his creator’s arms after a brief four years.

In April of 1492 Alexander VI assumed the triregnum, a sharp military mind well-suited to his time but sadly not quite so blessed as his predecessor in other matters. His tenure would carry us into the 16th century, and he is best remembered for beginning the process of integrating Byzantium in 1497 and for subjugating the Ottoman Beys of Candar and Ramazan as Muslim vassals. Our next installment will look at the known world as Alexander VI knew it in AD 1500.

Having just giving the Papal States a test-drive in Europa Universalis this weekend, I’ve decided to give it a proper play-through and report on my progress, challenges, and setbacks.  First, some background:

The Papal States represents the temporal authority of the Holy See. As such, certain options aren’t directly available for somebody playing as the Pope.  For one, you’re stuck as a theocracy. This means no royal marriages for diplomatic purposes, but it also means there’s no worrying about your ruler dying without an heir; there’s always somebody lined up to pick up the banner as Bishop of Rome.  Also it looks like the Papal government form can never promote itself to Empire status.

The starting position of the Papal States is reasonably strong but without a safe means of early expansion.  Four central Italian provinces that are well-developed, good early-game manpower for such a small state, excellent tax revenue, and a single-province vassal ready to use as a buffer for overextension are all in the plus column.  There’s also Avignon, but that’s mostly just a magnet for trouble with France, Burgundy, and Provence. In the minus column you’ve got the neighbors. Several small-to-middling Northern Italian states look ripe for the picking, but they’re all in the Holy Roman Empire but the Pope isn’t. Attacking Siena or Lucca on day one before they have any allies would be awfully tempting if they didn’t get the automatic assistance of the sitting Emperor. To the South lies Naples, encompassing the whole South of Italy and sitting pretty as the minor partner in a Personal Union with Aragon. Aragon has a much more impressive navy and army than the Pope, and frequently makes friends with Spain, France, Burgundy, or even Austria, none of whom are safe to dance with when you’ve got four Italian provinces and little tiny vassal. Reasonably nearby but not neighboring directly is Venice. Venice has a clutch of vassals, tends to make friends with at least one major regional player, and can generally be counted on to have a strong navy. There’s also the Holy Father himself to look at. Pope Eugenius IV is not a towering pillar of personal effectiveness.

My early-game strategy is going to take all of this into consideration and make friends with my obvious enemies. On day one try to ally with Aragon and Venice, plus possibly Austria or Hungary. Aragon and Venice are important for the naval assistance they can provide, and will probably both be necessary. Austria has excellent manpower as the starting Holy Roman Emperor and making friends with the emperor will open the door to HRE membership and North Italian conquest with fewer strings attached. Hungary is a poor second-choice to Austria; they’ve got he manpower but not the connections.  Of course, Austria tends to drag its allies into a bunch of pointless wars against big players, so they’re not automatically the go-to manpower-provider.  But what to do with two moderate naval powers and a big army? Jump on Byzantium, of course!

The City of the World’s Desire is what they call Constantinople, but mostly it’s the city the Ottomans desire. By subjugating the Byzantines any country can get itself an early-game vassal that has several coastal cores currently held by the Ottoman Empire in 1444.  Get the Byzantines in-hand, integrate Urbino to free up a diplomatic relationship, and pick fights with the Ottomans using mercenaries and allied manpower to keep war exhaustion down, and by 1500 the Pope should have Greece and parts of Asia Minor all sewn up. Integrate the Byzantines diplomatically and there you go, a Papal State with some legs. And really good flatbread.

Mid-game things will rely a fair bit on some unique features the Papal State can call on. Its national ideas grant it extra tax revenue and extra religious stability. From what I’ve seen of its events (the Sistine Chapel, the Vatican Library, St. Peter’s Basilica, etc.) there are ample opportunities to gain a continuous stream of Prestige and Devotion. For idea groups I’ll start with Diplomacy, then move on to Aristocratic, then possibly Administrative. Each of these have a cap feature that reduces technology costs by 10% for Diplomacy, Military, and Administrative respectively.  With lowered technology costs it should be somewhat easier to keep stability positive, develop provinces, and hire competent military leaders.

Let’s get thing running with the brief reign of his most holy Pope Eugenius IV, starting in November of the year of our Lord 1444.

In the Papal War of Aggression against Byzantium the Vicar of Christ Pope Eugenius IV found his true calling as an able leader of soldiers at war. He would lead the Armata di Roma through the course of every battle and siege, never losing an engagement. Sadly it was not God’s will that he should live to see the peace his efforts would eventually forge. Venice had most-unreasonably declared the Papal State as her rival and as such was unavailable as a military ally. Aragon, Austria, and Hungary remained true to their faith and immediately agreed to treaties of mutual friendship and support-in-arms.  Having secured stout allies, Eugenius immediately declared a war of subjugation against Byzantium with no formal casus belli. Rome’s fleets set forth immediately to Achea. Reinforcements from Naples, Aragon, and Hungary arrived shortly thereafter. Eugenius set his sights on the castle at Morea, laying siege for several months while his allies cleared out the sea lanes of Byzantine galleys.  The Greeks put up a valiant defense of Constantinople and were swept aside. The great city fell in short order, but due to a misunderstanding, miscue, or miscommunication it was the forces of Aragon that claimed the province, complicating the peace negotiations somewhat. The Byzantines and their vassal Athens were vanquished, but could not be made subject to Rome while Aragon held their capital. On February 23 1448, still encamped with the Armata di Roma outside the freshly-surrendered Constantinople, Pope Eugenius IV contemplated his options in prayer. He left detailed instructions to his subordinates and passed on from the mortal world. And so it was that even as Rome celebrated her victory she mourned her warrior Pope and welcomed a remarkable new leader.

Pope Gregorius XIII was particularly well-suited to pick up where Eugenius left off, shepherding the spiritual and temporal church into the beginning of a new era of influence. In his first act, Gregorius concluded the peace of 1448, granting Aragon the city of Constantinople and reserving Achea, Morea, and Athens for the Papal State. He immediately demonstrated the virtues of charity and mercy upon his new subjects by releasing them as a single vassal.  Having acquired a valuable territory through the Pope’s generosity, Aragon immediately broke her alliance with the Papal State. Gregorius predicted this would likely result in terrible conflict in the future, but time would tell. He set about consolidating his holdings and preparing for a truce with the Ottomans to expire, as they were embroiled in multiple simultaneous wars and Byzantium was eager to recover lost territory. The 1450’s would have a terrible start for the Ottoman Turks. Crimea had dragged them into war with Venice and Genoa. Muslim neighbors harried their Eastern borders. Then Pope Gregorius deemed it was time to press Byzantium’s claims to Greek lands. Again Hungary answered the call, bringing its army down like a hammer through the Bulgarian frontier while Roman and Greek forces swung up through Thessaly. The Ottoman forces had too many threats from too many directions, and were soon completely swept from their European holdings. In 1454 Byzantium was made whole and the Turks were driven from their own capitol of Edirne, which was taken by Rome and sold back to Byzantium a day later for zero ducats.

On the domestic front, Pope Gregorius faced many decisions with wisdom and grace. He permitted the local government in Romagna to handle the non-enforcement of ordinances issue, showing a willingness to tolerate a high degree of local autonomy. He commissioned the reconstruction of the Sistine Chapel, a decision that will likely set off a long-lasting chain of events for the greater glory of God on Earth as well as in Heaven. He also established the creation of a General Hospital, which will greatly benefit the faithful and permit even more healthy young souls to serve under arms for centuries to come. Shortly after the war to restore Byzantine lands from the Ottomans concluded, the Papal State began the diplomatic process of integrating Urbino. Pope Gregorius XIII began his tenure at the sunset of war, he lead through war and peace for seven years, and he passed on to his eternal reward on July 4th, 1455.

Our next installment will start with the troubled reign of Pope Pius II, a far less capable man than his predecessor.

It’s my understanding that in Victoria 2, the five-year-old grand strategy game from Paradox, Brazil is in a pretty good position to do quite well. I’m a veteran of several Crusader Kings, Europa Universalis, and a couple of Hearts of Iron games, but new to Vicky 2 and I think things turned out pretty well.

One of my first goals was to liberalize Brazil enough to become an immigration magnet. The first 50 years or so were rough going in this regard, as all three initial political parties available (Reactionary, Conservative, and Liberal) weren’t big on granting legal rights to immigrants.  Once the Partido Paulista came in, I was set.  The Paulistas favored full citizenship rights, were pro-military, and allowed “state capitalism.” State capitalism is a great position to be in for this game, as you can interfere with the economy whenever your computer-controlled capitalists are making dumb choices like putting liquor distilleries in the wrong places or doubling down on fertilizer when it’s losing money.  With full citizenship on the table and lots of trouble in Europe and China, the immigrants started pouring in and Brazil’s population flourished.

Military expansion in South America was limited to Brazil’s core provinces. This meant giving Bolivia, Colombia, and Paraguay (not shown here, as it was later gobbled up) a bit of a haircut. Colonial expansion was the goal here, not strife with our Spanish-speaking cousins.

Speaking of colonial expansion, Brazil waged three separate wars for colonial concessions from Sokoto and Egypt to get a toehold on the Dark Continent. This provided access to Darfur and the Hausaland early on. Portugal was able to colonize inland from its initial holdings.  In 1870 the race was on, with Brazil being first to unlock Colonial Negotiations (an in-game euphemism for diplomacy by machinegun). After spending decades building up naval facilities along the Brazilian coast, my patience and foresight were rewarded with rich territories in Nigeria, the Congo, Somalia, Kenya, Togo, et cetera.

The other colonial nations were slow to pick up the Southern end of Africa, so Brazil mopped up with a few late expeditions. France cut us off from linking with our Northern colonies, something that would cause headaches in the Great Wars.

Speaking of Great Wars, colonization, industrialization, immigration, and a bit of military enthusiasm put Brazil into a tenuous Great Power status. Through moderately-shrewd diplomatic action and the judicious use of influence, Brazil was able to force the United Kingdom to give up much of her initial holdings.  Here we see a late 1935 British Isles with an independent Ireland (sphered by Germany), an independent Scotland (sphered by Brazil), and Brazilian-held Cornwall. That’s right, they’re speaking Portugese in Bath.

For spheres of influence, Brazil did nicely. Several fascist and communist revolutions aside, Brazil ended up with 17 subsidiary states, including the bulk of sub-Saharan Africa (a revolution kicked Portugal and the Netherlands out of our sphere late in the campaign, otherwise it would be green here). We were able to grab Cuba and Haiti away from the United States, and aside from lands held by Britain and France, the entirety of South America lay under Brazil’s protective umbrella.

A little look at the end-of-game summary:

And the ledger:

We were able to enact all of the political reforms, abolishing slavery, introducing universal suffrage (including for women). We were able to enact most of the social reforms, with a 98% literacy rate, won several Nobel Prizes, hosted the Olympics four times, and sent the first successful expeditions to both the North and South Poles. We defeated Britain, France, Russia, Italy, and the Ottomans in multiple wars, and formed a mighty three-way alliance along with Germany and China that was so potent that France spat out Algeria diplomatically rather than risk open conflict.

My only regret is that there was no battle between North and South America for dominance of our hemisphere. The USA and Brazil were allied early on, but they proved worthless in intercontinental struggles, reluctant as they are to send soldiers abroad. They had a tremendous early edge on immigration flow, swiftly outpacing Brazil in population and industry.

There’s an odd genre of games that’s been making the rounds over across the Pacific for ages. Graduation and Princess Maker come to mind as older examples. Basically they’re a choose-your-own-adventure game where you take on the role of a responsible adult trying to guide a child to adulthood. Play involves making a series of decisions, some repetitive, some unique, which result in the child acquiring various characteristics. At the end of play you get a summary of how the child’s life turned out, effectively giving you a scorecard.

The latest addition to this odd little niche is Long Live the Queen, a title by Hanako Games. In it you guide young Elodie, the crown princess of a fantasy kingdom, through the last forty weeks before assuming the crown on her fifteenth birthday.

Each week you may select two courses of classwork for her to study. Upon completion of the coursework you may select how she spends her weekend. The classes affect her skills, the weekend activities affect her mood. Depending on her dominant mood (there are four pairs of opposing moods), she will have an easier time with certain topics. For example, if she’s angy she’ll excel at swordsmanship. If she’s depressed she’ll do better at music.

Overall a successful run through to coronation is a pretty short play-through, but this title is pretty replayable, with several alternate routes through to survival and victory. In addition to choosing her coursework (will she be a military tactician, a cunning court intriguer, a fearsome mage?) a number of events will crop up in classic choose-your-own-adventure style. Others events provide different results depending on the skills Elodie has developed.

The skill check events (and one straight-up bad decision involving a box of chocolates) can result in an array of bad endings for our fair princess. I’ve tripped across the following so far (some intentionally, some not so much):

The Steam Achievements list suggests there are another four possible deaths. The hair trigger on this game for killing you off reminds me of the old Sierra games, where you’d get crushed into paste for stepping two pixels too far to the left or clicking on the wrong object on an office desk.

The art is cute but not remarkable, there is no technical triumph to be found here, and the setting isn’t the most inspired bit of worldcraft you’ll see, but at under $10 it’s a good buy and a fun way to burn a few hours trying to figure how how the “save the world with the power of song” or die trying.

Having successfully rage-quit my first ironman run through XCOM: Enemy Unknown (dear God, the casualties and missteps!) and completed a full run-through, I’m still looking forward to another run through this highly-addictive exercise in sado-masochism. A couple of things I’ve picked up, mostly the hard way:

Continue reading →

Looking forward to the unlocking my preload of XCOM: Enemy Unknown this evening, my thoughts keep wandering to what exactly I intend for my approach to be early on. With a limited number of troopers available for each ground mission, one temptation will be to expand the number I can deploy by upgrading my base to allow for five- or six-man squads.  Depending on the other options available at the moment, compared to my budget, that will be a strong temptation indeed.

Developing some basic body armor and support capabilities in the form of decent medical kits will be another early priority, presuming that I find my troopers’ weapons to be sufficiently deadly. In the original X-Com the conventional armaments were laughable, so I’ll be sorely temped to research and manufacture laser weapons. I’m leaning toward the defensive, though, as a shoddy weapon in the hands of a veteran is preferable to an excellent weapon held by a panic-prone rookie. I hope.

As for those rookies, as soon as I’ve got a squad worth of veterans, there will be a rotation of fresh meat on every mission I can swing it for.  I know at some point a valuable, experienced lynchpin of my tactics is going to get himself poisoned or burned or blasted all to hell, and end up spending quality time in the hospital or pushing up daisies.  Just having one good sniper or heavy or support guy isn’t a good option; it’s a recipe for long-term disaster. So somebody’s going to have to ride the bench every mission.  Sometimes getting laid up with an injury will make this decision easy, but other times it’ll be painful. As rookies get promoted and find their role, their place in the rotation will shift.

Once I’ve got a stable of modestly-experienced troopers available, I figure I’ll go half-and-half with hard-bitten veterans and the lower ranks. Nobody is really expendable, but I’d much rather take the hard-nosed position of sending a corporal in first instead of  a major or colonel.

When I have enough experienced troopers to fill out two full squads, it is time to expand squad size. The 1994 X-Com saw enough Normandy Beach effect, with rookies dying in droves as they exited their Skyranger. No need to repeat that more than absolutely necessary.

Squad composition will go balanced for a while, with a Sniper, Support, Assault, and Heavy Weapons specialist in the mix whenever I have them available, swapping out the Assault and Heavy Weapons troopers for rookies more often than not. I expect a lot of Assault specialist casualties early on. For early play I hope that a barely-competent Heavy Weapons guy will get his job done more often than not; he’s for clearing out walls, right? I hope to get a Support specialist early on and keep him on a road of continuous improvement. This role strikes me as particularly conducive to my cautious-advance style of play from the old days.

In a couple days, with any luck, it’ll turn out this is a good approach. Unfortunately luck seems to swing both ways in the X-Com world.

I’m not a big hardware guy. I use computers as a tool, sometimes for work, sometimes for hobbies, but I generally only get under the hood when something is wrong, and only then when whatever went wrong is seriously getting in my way.  Take the recent gallery outage for example.

I run an old Linux box with an unimpressive CPU, unremarkable storage and memory, in a seriously-oversized 4U rackmount chassis that I’ve had parked at my employer’s data center for the past half-dozen years.  Being not-particularly-inclined to fiddle with my operating system just for the heck of it, I let things get pretty seriously outdated, to the point where upgrading software like my WordPress install here was troublesome and required odd work-arounds. So I poked at it a bit, patching here and there, and at some point I managed to deny myself SSH terminal access. I could still get in via SCP (which is odd because SCP uses SSH to connect, but hey), so for the most part this didn’t matter to me.

I let it sit for a few months, taking a poke at it now and again when the mood struck me, but eventually I managed to totally screw it up to the point where I couldn’t connect via my https control panel (Webmin), SSH, nor SCP. I don’t let anybody else use any of the above, so nobody else was affected. People who wanted to use my gallery could, the handful of web robots and actual people that visit this blog could still do so as normal, and my Riddle of Steel wiki was functioning, so no harm, no foul.

Then I bit the bullet and opted for the nuclear option. In the back of my mind I was already concerned about disk usage and my decrepit old IDE drive, so I pulled the old 4u from its rack to pop a fresh disk in, install a modern operating system, and migrate the old data over. No problem, right? I’d have it done in an evening.  Of course not.

My first challenge was my server’s neighbors.  It turned out that the five servers above mine in the datacenter cabinet were not properly mounted. They weren’t even improperly mounted. They were just resting atop my box. Four little bolts in the face of my server were the only thing between them and plummeting to the floor. Oh, and one slightly-short CAT-5 cable that just about gave up the ghost as everything sagged.  A metal rack shelf and a couple of 4x4s later (I kid you not, the’re still there) my lazy neighbor’s equipment was reasonably secure again and I had my server out and ready to service.

This is when I realize for the first time in half a dozen years that my server has no CD drive. It had been a network install and never needed one before. But I didn’t have anything set up ready to serve a network install, so I’d have to cannibalize one from one of my retired desktop machines at home. Glorious. While I was was at it, I figured I would use the drive from the same machine. This will come back to haunt me later.

I finally get the CD drive and new HDD installed and promptly discover that the tray won’t open to take my freshly-burned install CD. Great.  Cue another pause in getting the gallery back up.  I cannibalize another drive from another retired machine, and lo this one opens and is bootable.  I get my install disk up and running, and 23% of the way through the process it declares I’ve got a corrupted file. Outstanding. I burn another install disk and get 11% in before getting the same error.  Two disks later it finally completes, I’ve got a simply LAMP server to migrate my data to. Or do I?

I power down, put in the old server’s HDD, and turn it back on. ATAPI errors out the butt. I fiddle with the jumper configurations, but they persist. Finally I discover that one of my ATA cables wasn’t set up correctly, and perhaps never had been. I get the sorted out and find out that my cannibalized HDD won’t boot, for reasons unknown.  Off to the store, get a new HDD, install the operating system from scratch, get the old HDD back into the picture, figure out how to mount it, and get the files copies over.

Then comes wrestling with the network configuration.  Linux likes to play coy about things like network interfaces and whether it’s got link on which port.  I get it up and running by DHCP on my office LAN to make sure I’ve got Apache and MySQL up configured properly, import the gallery database from backup, square away a couple of php.ini and virtualhost issues, and it’s time to re-rack the sucker.

There is currently a metal shelf and two 4×4’s where my box used to be, but there’s a convenient 4U opening elsewhere in the cabinet, so no problem there. I slide it in, secure it properly out of deference to the folks whose gear is below mine, and go to plug back into the switch.  The CAT5 cable I had left when I pulled the box is now gone. I grab a spare and plug it into the port I used to be on and see my link indicator light up. I fire up a console and manually enter my static IP information. Which is, naturally, kept in a different place than my DNS resolver information. Thanks, Linux.

I discover that I can’t ping out. Not by name, not by IP. I check for link. I check to make sure I’m connected to the port I used to be on. No good.  I double-check the syntax on /etc/network/interfaces and restart the network services. No good.  I check the records of which port I’m supposed to be on. The record says I’m supposed to be four ports off what what I had noted when I had removed my gear. I try that port. I get link. I reset my network. I still cannot ping. I try each of the other open ports on the switch in turn, getting link each time and finding myself unable to ping each time.  So I check for other loose cables. I find three in all, one of which I think was my old cable. I try it. No dice.  I try the others, and lo! what used to be port 10 is now port 2 and I’m back up and running.

I configured my DNS and hostname, buttoned down the cabinet, and popped the gallery link back up atop my blog.

The moral of the story here is that getting it to work is half the fun. If you can’t enjoy a process like the one described above, hire a professional.

Got a speed problem? Check that wiring. No, really. Pull out a couple of screwdrivers and go to town. This morning I put on some Curious George to distract the boys, and my useless second line has never been better.

At issue here was some shoddy internal wire work I did while home on a lunch break a while back. It turns out that having a loose contact at the phone box can reduce your stable ADSL2+ line rates by eighty-three percent or so.

The lousy splice bumped the downstream line attenuation from ~47dB to ~65dB, leaving the circuit extremely sensitive to the RF noises found in the wilds of suburban California. Physically identifying the problem consisted of simply making sure the various contacts involved were firmly screwed down and gently tugging on the wires at an unsightly jellybean splice and at the MPOE. I inadvertently demonstrated to myself that modern fool-proof demarcation point technology is in fact fool-susceptible, provided sufficient foolishness.

The 3mbps line speed shown is the result of having capped my maximum sync rate cautiously, as I’m on a rather long loop from the ILEC’s central office. Normally you’d have to call your ISP to get this adjusted.

Tools required: One phillips-head screwdriver for the biscuit block in my living room, one flat-head screwdriver to open my phone box, one medium-sized self-adhesive bandage for my finger after somehow cutting myself with the phillips-head screwdriver, one TV with a DVR set to maintain a hoard of children’s programming.