What is an adult? Ordinarily I'd say it's a person of any age who has both empathy and responsibility. What is an old person? I'm starting to suspect it's someone for whom the passage of time has become frighteningly fast. As a child, the timescales on which adults do things seems like watching an ent moot deliberating over whether to sack Isengard. All of which is ambling its way to the conclusion that I have spent about two months making an 8-part series on producing a modular urban terrain set for Warhammer 40,000, and those two months somehow stretch from now (the end point) to May 2021 (the start). Why did it take so long? Primarily because in 2021, almost all my terrain projects were solo efforts. Since then we have learned the value of team play, and that's what finally got this large and repetitive urban project to bear concrete fruit. 6'x4' of modular paving Ooooo, paving. Mmmmmm, beige. It feels very, very good to have got this done, since drybrus...
There are many big, difficult issues in the world. War, famine, corruption, ecological collapse, the Storm Speeder's turret design. I could go on. Today's post holds an answer to one of those issues. It's a very, very simple answer, so in the interests of not burying the lead: I plopped the Impulsor turret in the relevant hole. No conversion work is needed, you just pop it in. You don't even need glue; once the surfaces are painted, it'll hold nice and firmly. The internet has joked long and hard about poor Brother Tinnitus up there in the turret. Ironically I don't think tinnitus is his biggest problem, given that soldiers generally fire shoulder-mounted missile launchers, literally rest their cheeks on their rifles while aiming, and are generally subjected to all manner of loud noises whether or not they're manning a turret. No, Brother Tinnitus' biggest problem is knees. I doubt he has any. Presumably his role requires a double amputee, and in fairnes...