A bit more musing from me, if you will indulge me. This thread seems to be turning into philosophy 101.
I finished a book last night called "Catapult: Harry and I Build a Seige Weapon." It is a strange and facinating book, and in a way, is not about the actual building of the machine, but of the process, how it alters the authors perceptions and world view. What began as a fun lark ended up becoming a war machine, what he and others described as "mean-looking." It was always great fun, though, including firing stones into the ocean at the end of the book. The guys in the book thought perhaps they were making a toy, but that is not what emerged.
I have to wonder about that myself, but not in the same way. I look at many bows here, and the majority of the weapons are made for hunting. I myself am not a hunter, but love venision, and have no issues at all with those who hunt with traditional weapons. Someday, I do hope to go hunting, actually. LA, where I grew up, is not an enclave for hunters, maybe!
The historic war weapons, like the great English warbow, the Asiatic bows, crossbows, etc., have similarities to a hunting or sport weapon, but the intent behind them is entirely different.
This is neither bad nor good, but it what it is. But as I progress in this project, I seem to be "plugging into" a mindset that is far different than any other for any other project I have ever undertaken, including bows, shelving, clothing, cooking, and so on, so I look at this project in a way that is entirely new in archery, but not perhaps in other aspects of my life and past.
My wife seems to enjoy seeing this machine as it emerges, but she has made some interesting comments. It was a crazy collection of wooden components and sketches and so on at first. Once I got the frame and stock set for some photos which I posted earlier in this thread, she took a long look at it and said wow, this is serious. This is dangerous looking.
And it is. Even without the springs or bow arms, the potential built into the machine is there as you look at it, like a power that kind of hums just beyond our range of hearing. And it is a seductive kind of power, too, which I think you have to embrace as the machine comes into existance. The design drives that, and without it, I don't know if it would be possible to finish it.
I am no pacifist, and served in the US Army as an infantryman, and recall that I had all sorts of options for various training schools and MOSs (Military Occupational Specialty), based on my testing scores. But, the only thing that interested me was being a grunt, and if I could do it all over again, I would go down the same route. As a rifleman, your weapon is an extension of yourself. It is a personal kind of relationship that makes your weapon not a tool but part of who you are. This manuballista seems to have the same kind of vibe to me now, if that makes any sense at all. I think it will be a beautful machine when it is done, glittering bronze, burnished steel, glowing wooden components, horsehair rope, and that beauty will bring out the lethal nature of the beast, too. I see that in some of the amazing armor suits from the high middle ages, or the dueling pistols with fantastic engraving. The beautiful craft that makers lavished on these weapons seems to make them deadlier looking.
And that is all for now.
Dane
